BV  4425  .B373  1871 
 Bate,  John. 
 A  cyclopedia  of 
 illustrations  of  moral  and 
 
CYCLOPEDIA 
 
 OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    OF 
 
 MOEAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  TRUTHS. 
 
A    CYCLOPEDIA 
 
 OF 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 MOEAL  AND  EELIGIOUS  TRUTHS 
 
 CONSISTING   OF 
 
 DEFINITIONS,  METAPHORS,  SIMILES,  EMBLEMS,  CONTRASTS, 
 ANALOGIES,  STATISTICS,  SYNONYMS,  ANECDOTES, 
 
 ETC.,    ETC. 
 
 JOHN  '^BATE. 
 
 SEVENTH    EDITION,    REVISED    AND    ENLARGED. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JARROLD    AND    SONS,    12,    PATERNOSTER    ROW 
 
 1871. 
 
PREFACE    TO  THE    FIRST   EDITION. 
 
 It  is  not  necessary  to  detain  the  reader  with  a  dissertation  on  the 
 nature,  use,  and  importance  of  Illustrations  in  teaching  and  enforcing 
 Moral  and  Religious  Truths.  Enough  has  been  written  upon  these 
 points ;  nor  is  it  necessary  that  much,  or  anything,  should  be  said  by 
 way  of  commending  the  book  before  him  to  his  judgment.  This  shall 
 be  left  to  be  done  by  the  book  itself. 
 
 This  boolf  is  published  with  a  view  to  supply  a  want  which  doubtless 
 has  been  felt  by  thousands,  to  furnish  a  volume  of  Illustrations  in 
 variety  of  kind,  in  compreliension  of  subjects,  in  simplicity  of  arrange- 
 ment, that  would  be  serviceable  at  any  time,  and  on  any  topic,  to  the 
 teacher  of  Eeligious  Truths.  It  is  hoped  that  the  object  contemplated 
 will,  to  some  extent,  be  accomplished.  . 
 
 A  book  is  enhanced  in  value  in  proportion  to  the  ability  which  it 
 possesses  of  creating  or  suggesting  thought,  by  the  thought  which  it 
 contains,  and  the  manner  in  which  that  thought  is  expressed.  It  is 
 believed  that  the  following  pages  possess  this  ability.  "While,  on  the 
 one  hand,  the  reader  will  find  illustrations  suited  to  his  theme  of  study, 
 he  will  find,  if  he  observe  the  working  of  his  mind,  that  others  are  sug- 
 gested from  other  sources  of  a  difiereut  nature.  The  intrinsic  value  and 
 real  use  of  such  a  work  will  be  duly  appreciated  by  all  the  thoughtful. 
 
 In  this  volume  will  be  found  community  of  mind,  coming  from  a  great 
 variety  of  countries,  ages,  churches,  and  circumstances.  Arminius  and 
 Calvin ;  Wesley  and  Toplady ;  Fletcher  and  Plill ;  Churchmen  and 
 Dissenters  ;  Protestants  and  Papists  ;  Philosophers  and  Divines ;  Poets 
 and  Historians  ;  Infidels  and  Christiaus  ;  Clergy  and  Laity,  the  Living 
 and  the  Dead,  meet  side  by  side,  and  without  a  breath  of  discord  or  a 
 line  of  controversy  combine  their  testimonies  in  support  of  the  same 
 mighty  themes  of  Divine  Inspiration. 
 
 It  may  be  necessary  to  suggest  to  the  reader  that  in  case  he  does  not 
 find  as  many  views  as  he  wishes  under  one  general  subject,  he  will,  in 
 almost  every  instance  where  practicable,  find  something  more  under  a 
 synonymous  one. 
 
 That  the  selections  and  arrangement  are  perfect  is  far  from  being 
 imagined.  Difference  in  taste  will  of  course  create  difference  in  judg- 
 ment upon  this  partit-ular.  After  a  work  is  finished,  imperfections 
 often  show  themselves  when  they  were  hid  in  the  plan  and  in  the 
 process  of  workmanship.  There  are,  however,  many  who,  while  they 
 can  point  out  a  fault  in  a  work  complete,  would  have  made  gi-eater 
 faults  had  they  been  the  workmen  in.  carrying  out  the  design.  This  is 
 one  of  the  privileges  of  which  most  critics  do  not  fail  very  frequently  to 
 avail  themselves. 
 
 After  much  prayer,  labour,  and  pleasure,  in  the  preparation  of  the 
 Work,  it  is  now  commended  to  God  for  His  blessing  upon  its  use  ;  and 
 to  the  Reader  for  his  assistance  in  every  good  word  and  work.  The 
 garden  is  laid  out  as  best  it  could  be  for  his  service,  with  every  variety 
 of  fiowers,  trees,  and  shrubs.  If  here  and  there  he  find  a  full-grown 
 weed,  or  a  bitter  herb  in  bloom  among  the  pleasant  fruits  and  flowers, 
 like  the  wise  and  happy  bee,  let  him  not  object  to  gather  honev  from 
 all  alike.  J.  B. 
 
 Dec,  1864, 
 
NOTICE   TO   THE    SECOND   EDITION. 
 
 It  is  no  small  recommendation  of  this  work,  that  the  Pirst  Edition 
 was  disposed  of  iu  about  six  mouths  after  its  issue. 
 
 This  edition  differs  from  the  first  in  several  important  respects.  In 
 the  former  the  logical  plan  was  followed  as  far  as  possible,  in  the  pre- 
 dicate arrangeuient  of  the  subjects ;  in  this,  the  alphahetical.  It  was 
 suggested  that,  while  the  logical  might  have  its  advantages  to  some,  to 
 the  majority,  the  alphabetical  would  be  more  simple  and  acceptable; 
 and  as  simplicitij  in  arrangement  is  a  chief  matter  to  be  observed  in  the 
 construction  of  a  book  of  this  kind,  the  suggestion  has  been  adopted. 
 The  reader,  therefore,  iu  the  use  of  the  work,  will  not  only  look  alpha- 
 betically for  the  subject  .itself  which  he  may  want,  bvit  also  for  the 
 predicate  of  the  subject.  For  example,  does  he  desire  a  reference 
 upon  Heaven  as  the  subject,  he  will  at  once  find  the  word  as  in  any 
 dictionary;  but  does  he  seek  a  specific  reference  on  heaven,  such  as 
 activity  in  heaven,  or  recognition  in  heaven,  he  must  look  for  the  word 
 activity  or  recognition  in  its  alphabetical  order  as  placed  in  con- 
 nection with  the  subject.  Heaven.  The  point  will  easily  be  seen  by 
 examination  of  any  one  subject  on  which  there  is  a  variety  of  extracts. 
 It  is  hoped  that  this  arrangement  will  be  an  additional  commendation 
 of  the  work. 
 
 This  edition  will  be  found  to  contain  some  five  hundi'ed  new  extracts 
 from  fifty  or  sixty  more  authors,  extending  the  volume  about  sixty 
 pages,  introducing  a  considerable  number  of  new  subjects  of  illus- 
 tration. 
 
 This  work  is  not  intended  to  be  a  substitute  for  'thinking,  but,  on  the 
 contrary,  an  Assistant,  by  its  suggestiveness,  its  variety,  its  compre- 
 hensiveness (see  'Reading — Suggestiveness  in,'  p.  722). 
 
 An  Index  of  Subjects  would  have  been  given  but  for  two  reasons : 
 First,  the  book  is  already  larger  than  was  intended ;  secondly,  it  was 
 not  deemed  necessary,  in  view  of  the  indexical  arrangement  of  the  book 
 tself. 
 
 This  edition  having  been  stereotyped,  no  more  material  alterations 
 will  be  made  in  any  future  editions. 
 
 Believing  tlie  book,  as  stated  by  some  of  the  reviewers,  to  have  "  no 
 compeer,"  to  be  complete  in  its  "  arrangement  and  compilation,"  and 
 to  be  "by  no  means  "a  dear  one,"  this  edition  is,  with  increased  con- 
 fidence, commended  to  the  public  for  its  approval  and  use. 
 
 J.  B. 
 
 DouKiKO,  September,  1S65. 
 
v-   ./    -p^'Vf 
 
 7 
 
 CYCLOPAEDIA 
 
 lllustratious  of  ||lorat  aiiir  ^clicjioii^  Cvut|$, 
 
 ^" 
 
 AARON— a  Type  of  Christ. 
 
 I.  Aaron,  a  teacher,  or  the  mountain  of 
 fortitude ;  so  is  Christ  the  true  teacher  of 
 God's  Word. 
 
 II.  Aaron  was  Moses's  mouth  to  the 
 people  ;  so  is  Christ  His  Father's  mouth  to 
 men,  declaring  His  will  and  mind  to  them. 
 
 III.  Aaron  was  the  blesser  of  the  people 
 (Lev.  ix,  22) ;  so  is  Christ  the  true  blesser 
 of  His  people  (Acts  iv,  27). 
 
 IV.  Aaron  was  the  high  priest  of  the 
 Lord  ;  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  true  High 
 Priest  of  the  Church. 
 
 V.  Aaron  died  upon  the  mount ;  Christ 
 was  crucified  on  Mount  Calvary.  B.Keach. 
 
 ABILITIES  OF  MAN— not  Perfect. 
 
 The  abilities  of  man  must  fall  short  on 
 one  side  or  other,  like  too  scanty  a  blanket 
 when  you  are  abed :  if  you  pull  it  upon 
 your  shoulders  you  leave  your  feet  bare;  if 
 you  thrust  it  down  upon  your  feet  your 
 shoulders  are  uncovered.       Sir  W.  Tem'ple. 
 
 ASILITIES— Use  of  Common. 
 
 The  ambition  of  a  man  of  parts  is  very 
 often  disappointed  for  the  want  of  some 
 common  quality,  by  the  assistance  of  which 
 men  with  very  moderate  abilities  are  capa- 
 ble of  making  a  great  figure. 
 
 Dr.  Armstrong. 
 
 ABSTINENCE— Bodily. 
 
 Deep,  earnest  thoughts  have  often  stirred 
 in  me  on  bodily  abstinence,  as  the  condition 
 of  helping  the  spirit  through  the  strait  : 
 gate  of  opposing  animalism,  into  the  sweet  ; 
 and  holy  Paradise  element.  There  is  an 
 element  of  which  Jesus  is  the  Prince,  and 
 there  is  an  element  of  which  Satan  is 
 prince.  While  we  appropriate  the  elements 
 of  the  nethermost  ])rince,  we  maybe  strong 
 in  the  powers  of  nature,  but  perhaps  not 
 
 I  so  strong  in  the  life  that  is  hid  with  Christ 
 in  God  ;  for  in  the  exercise  and  indulgence 
 of  our  fleshly  appetites  we  do  not  breathe 
 deeply  enough  to  inspire  the  holy  element 
 of  our  risen  Prince.  Finding  that  deep 
 and  holy  spirit-breathing  was  suspended 
 during  bodily  enjoyments,  godly  souls  have 
 often  interdicted  the  gratifications  of  the 
 flesh,  in  order  to  help  their  sjjirits  in  the 
 God-ward  direction.  /.  Fulsford. 
 
 ACT— Influence  of  a  Right. 
 
 A  rigid  act  strikes  a  chord  that  extends 
 through  the  whole  universe,  touches  all 
 moral  intelligence,  visits  every  world,  vi- 
 brates along  its  whole  extent,  and  conveys 
 its  vibrations  to  the  very  bosom  of  God ! 
 Pray  learn  to  understand  how  all  work 
 has  in  it  a  spiritual  element;  how  the 
 meanest  thing  on  earth  has  a  divine 
 side;  how  all  temporary  forms  include 
 essences  that  are  to  be  eternal.  Whatever 
 be  the  meanness  of  a  man's  occupation,  he 
 may  discharge  and  prosecute  it  on  prin- 
 ciples common  to  him  with  Michael  or 
 Gabriel,  or  any  of  the  highest  spirits  of 
 heaven.  T.  Binney. 
 
 ACTION— Fame  in. 
 
 Act !  for  in  action  are  wisdom  and  glory : 
 
 Fame,  immortality, — these  are  its  crown  ; 
 Wouldst     thou    illumine    the    tablets    of 
 story  ? — 
 Build  on  acMevements  thy  doom  of  re- 
 nown. Anon. 
 
 ACTION — Happiness  in. 
 
 Happiness  is  in  action,  and  every  power 
 is  intended  for  action  ;  human  happiness, 
 therefore,  can  only  be  complete  as  all  the 
 powers  have  their  full  and  legitimate  play. 
 As  all  the  chords  of  a  well-tuned  instrument 
 contribute  to  the  music  it  is  dej^igned  to 
 produce,  so  all  the  powers  of  the  soul  are 
 
ACTION— ACTIONS. 
 
 intended  to  contribute  to  the  sum  of  felicity 
 inan  is  fitted  to  enjoy.     No  cliord  must  be 
 untouched ;    each    must    send   forth   some 
 vibration  to  make  the  harmony  complete. 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 ACTION— Man  made  for. 
 
 Action  is  at  once  the  destiny  and  the  lot 
 of  man.  All  the  conditions  of  his  existence 
 are  framed  upon  the  supposition  of  his  ac- 
 tivity. It  is  so  in  man's  physical  frame. 
 The  elastic  foot  is  for  speed ;  the  firm  lithe 
 limb  for  endurance ;  the  arm,  at  once  sup- 
 ple and  sinewy,  for  toil ;  the  eye  and  the 
 ear  are  for  their  respective  revelries  in 
 sight  and  sound.  It  is  so  in  our  mental 
 constitution.  By  the  active  exercise  of  the 
 powers  which  God  has  given  us  we  classify 
 objects  aio*?.  understand  truths :  we  discri- 
 minate, we  invent,  we  analyse,  we  compare, 
 we  combine.  We  have  a  memory  that  can 
 inherit  the  past;  we  have  a  regal  imagina- 
 tion which  can  colonise,  and  almost  enact, 
 the  future.  It  is  so  in  our  moral  nature. 
 The  power  by  which  we  distinguish  be- 
 tween right  and  wrong ;  an  instinct  of  wor- 
 ship, wliich,  however  we  may  brutalise,  we 
 cannot  wholly  stifle;  yearnings  after  a 
 nobler  life,  which  no  debauchery  can  ex- 
 tinguish nor  murder  absolutely  kill — these 
 are  all  implanted  within  us  by  the  Giver  of 
 every  good  and  perfect  gift.  Alike,  then, 
 in  the  realm  of  hand,  and  brain,  and  heart, 
 God  has  made  the  health  and  vigour  of  the 
 faculties  contingent  upon  their  exercise, 
 stamping  activity  as  an  irreversible  law  on 
 man.  Tiie  muscle  will  shrink  if  it  be  not 
 strung ;  the  moveless  arm  will  stillen  into 
 hopeless  catalepsy ;  the  athlete  worsted  in 
 the  Olympian  games,  at  least  gets  strength 
 for  life.  Every  faculty  will  attenuate  if  it 
 be  not  exerted.  The  moral  nature  will 
 grow  weak  if  it  be  not  roused  to  resistance ; 
 feeble  in  its  faith  unless  it  be  constantly 
 exercised;  languid  and  hopeless  in  its 
 struggle  against  evil  if  the  conscience  do 
 only  indolently  strive  against  the  incur- 
 sions and  aggressions  of  sin.  Man  was  not 
 made  to  live  merely  for  the  possible  recep- 
 tion of  external  impressions,  a  harp  upon 
 which  every  fitful  wind  might  blow ;  he 
 was  made  to  act,  to  will,  to  influence,  to 
 become  a  power,  and  the  living  centre  of 
 ever  radiating  impressions.  Itwere  strange, 
 indeed,  if  in  a  laborious  universe  man  should 
 be  the  only  idler  among  the  works  of  the 
 Creator's  hands.  While  all  around  are 
 working,  from  the  wavelet's  tiniest  ripp'e 
 and  from  the  rosebud's  heart,  ever  glow- 
 ing into  deeper  crimson,  to  the  tireless 
 ocean  and  the  menial  and  monarch  sun; 
 whilst  unwearied  labour  was  the  condition 
 of  Paradise,  and  angels  cease  not  in  their 
 ministry,  and  there  is  no  faltering  in  the 
 march  of  the  heavens,  and  the  Son  v/ent 
 
 about  doing  good,  and  the  Eternal  Father, 
 
 the  watchman  of  Israel,  neither  slumbereth 
 nor  sleepeth,  you  will  not  wonder  that,  hy 
 a  law  as  benign  as  it  is  authoritative,  God 
 has  impressed  activity  upon  his  favorite 
 creature,  man,  and  has  provided  that  his 
 shall  not  be  a  zoophite  existence,  clinging 
 in  blind  helplessness  as  a  parasite  to  its 
 guardian  rock,  but  a  life  beautiful  and 
 holy,  a  life  of  quickened  pulses,  and  an 
 activity  and  an  energy  of  which  insensate 
 matter  knows  not ;  and  finding,  in  the 
 rapturous  doing  of  everyday  life,  its  very 
 soul  and  essence  of  joy.  There  is  a  neces- 
 sity in  man,  then,  for  activity.  Act  he 
 must  and  will,  and  it  is  the  province  of 
 religion  to  direct  and  control  this  tendency, 
 so  that  his  doing  may  be  according  to  that 
 which  is  right.  W.  M.  Fumhon. 
 
 ACTION — Patience  in. 
 
 Let  us  then  be  up  and  doing, 
 
 With  a  heart  for  every  fate  ; 
 Still  achieving,  still  pursuing. 
 
 Learn  to  labour  and  to  wait.  LongfeUow. 
 
 ACTIONS— Continuance  of. 
 
 The  only  things  in  which  we  can  be  said 
 to  have  any  property  are  our  actions.  Our 
 thoughts  may  be  bad,  yet  produce  no  poison; 
 they  may  be  good,  yet  produce  no  fruit. 
 Our  riches  may  be  taken  away  by  misfor- 
 tune, our  reputation  by  malice,  our  spirits 
 by  calamity,  our  health  by  disease,  our 
 friends  by  death.  But  our  actions  nmst 
 follow  us  beyond  the  grave;  with  i-espcct 
 to  them  alone,  we  cannot  say  that  we  shad 
 carry  nothing  with  us  when  we  die,  neither 
 that  we  shall  go  naked  out  of  the  world. 
 Our  actions  must  clothe  us  with  an  im- 
 mortality loathsome  or  glorious  ;  these  are 
 the  only  title-deeds  of  which  we  cannot  be 
 disinherited;  they  will  have  their  full  weight 
 in  the  balancTe  of  eternity,  when  everything 
 else  is  as  nothing ;  and  their  value  will  be 
 confirmed  and  established  by  those  two  sure 
 and  sateless  destroyers  of  all  other  earthly 
 things — Time  and  Death.  C  Cotton. 
 
 ACTIONS  OF  INTELLECT— based  on  Feel- 
 ings. 
 Every  action  of  the  intellect,  save  that 
 which  is   purely   scientific,  is  based  upon 
 !  some  feeling.  '  Ambition  says  to  Intellect, 
 I  "  Look  out  for  me ;"  Fear  cries,  "  Look  out 
 for  me ;"    Greed   also,   "  Arouse,   sharpen 
 yourself;   pierce   the   darkness,   teach  me 
 how  to  gain  ; '  and  Love  cries  passionately, 
 pleadingly,  ".\ wake,  be  my  advocate,  think, 
 think  lor  me."  -ff.  W.  Beeaher. 
 
 ACTIONS— Formation  of. 
 
 All  our  actions  take 
 Their  lines  from  the  complexion  of  theheart. 
 As  landscapes  their  variety  from  light. 
 
 W.  T.  Bacon. 
 
ACTIONS— ACTIVITY. 
 
 ACTIONS— Good  and  Evil. 
 
 To  do  an  evil  action  is  base ;  to  do  a  good 
 action,  without  incurring  danger,  is  com- 
 mon enough  ;  but  it  is  the  part  of  a  good 
 man  to  do  great  aud  noble  deeds,  though 
 he  risks  everything.  Plutarch. 
 
 ACTIONS  (Trifling)— Importance  of. 
 
 The  most  trifling  actions  that  affect  a 
 man's  credit  are  to  be  regarded.  The  sound 
 of  your  liammer  at  five  in  the  morning, 
 or  nine  at  night,  heard  by  a  creditor,  makes 
 him  easy  six  months  longer  ;  but  if  he  sees 
 you  at  a  billiard-table,  or  hears  your  voice 
 at  a  tavern,  when  you  should  be  at  work, 
 he  sends  for  his  money  the  next  day ;  de- 
 mands it  before  he  can  receive  it  in  a  lump. 
 B.  Franklin. 
 
 ACTIONS— Interpreted. 
 
 There  is  no  word  or  action  but  may  be 
 taken  with  two  hands;  either  with  the 
 right  hand  of  charitable  construction,  or 
 the  sinister  interpretation  of  malice  and 
 suspicion :  and  all  things  do  succeed  as 
 they  are  taken.  To  construe  an  evil  action 
 well,  is  but  a  pleasing  and  proiitable  deceit 
 to  myself;  but  to  misconstrue  a  good 
 thing  is  a  treble  wrong — to  myself,  the 
 action,  aud  the  author.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 ACTIVITIES— in  Life's  Calling. 
 
 The  Jews  compared  a  man  with  a  fixed 
 employment  to  "a  vineyard  fenced."  A 
 good  comparison.  A  man's  activities,  with- 
 in his  proper  calling,  are  not  like  trees 
 scattered  up  and  down  the  wayside,  or 
 over  the  wilderness,  when  much  of  the 
 fruit  is  lost ;  but  like  well-planted  and 
 well-trained  vines  in  a  garden,  where  the 
 most  is  made  of  them,  and  they  are  all 
 husbanded  and  preserved.        J.  Stouyldon. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Achievements  of. 
 
 Dr.  Adam  Clarke  said  that  "  the  old 
 proverb  about  having  too  many  irons  in 
 the  fire,  was  an  abominable  old  lie.  Have 
 all  in  it — shovel,  tongs,  and  poker."  Wes- 
 ley said,  "  I  am  always  in  haste,  but  never 
 in  a  hurry ;  leisure  and  I  have  long  taken 
 leave  of  each  other."  He  travelled  about 
 five  thousand  miles  in  a  year;  preached 
 about  three  times  a  day,  commencing  at 
 five  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and  his  pub- 
 lished works  amounted  to  about  two 
 hundred  volumes.  Asbury  travelled  six 
 thousand  miles  a  year,  and  preached  in- 
 cessantly. Coke  crossed  the  Atlantic 
 eighteen  times,  preached,  wrote,  travelled, 
 established  missions,  begged  from  door  to 
 door  for  them,  and  laboured  in  all  respects 
 as  if,  like  the  apostles,  he  would  "  turn 
 the  world  upside  down."  At  nearly  seventy 
 years  of  age  he  starlcx  to  Christianise 
 India,  X>r.  Stevens, 
 
 ACTIVITY— Achievements  of. 
 
 Francis  Asbury  was  the  pioneer  bishop 
 of  the  Methodist  Church  in  America.  Al- 
 ways and  everywhere,  with  harness  oa 
 ready  for  spiritual  warfare,  he  may  be 
 said  almost  to  have  created  the  Church  in 
 its  present  form,  and  during  his  long  and 
 active  life  kept,  all  its  departments  in 
 motion.  He  ordained  upward  of  three 
 thousand  preachers,  and  preached  seven- 
 teen thousand  sermons,  besides  attending 
 to  the  varied  and  multitudinous  duties 
 connected  with  his  peculiar  relation  to  the 
 Church  and  his  episcopal  office. 
 
 Dr.  Strickland. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Benefit  of. 
 
 As  animal  power  is  exhausted  exactly  in 
 proportion  to  the  time  during  which  it  is 
 acting,  as  well  as  in  proportion  to  the  in- 
 tensity of  foi'ce  exerted,  there  may  often  be 
 a  great  saving  of  it  by  doing  work  quickly, 
 although  with  a  little  more  exertion  during 
 the  time.  Suppose  two  men  of  equal 
 weight  to  ascend  the  same  stair,  one  of 
 whom  takes  only  a  minute  to  reach  the 
 top,  and  the  other  takes  four  minutes,  it 
 will  cost  the  first  little  more  than  a  fourth 
 part  of  the  fatigue  which  it  costs  the 
 second,  because  the  exhaustion  is  in  pro- 
 portion to  the  time  during  which  the 
 muscles  are  acting.  The  quick  mover  may 
 have  exerted  perhaps  one  twentieth  more 
 force  in  the  first  instant  to  give  his  body 
 the  greater  velocity,  which  was  afterwards 
 continued,  but  the  slow  supported  his  load 
 four  times  as  long.  Dr.  Arnott. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Christian. 
 
 The  more  excellent  anything  is,  the 
 more  active.  The  sun  is  a  glorious  crea- 
 tion, it  is  ever  in  motion,  going  its  circuit : 
 fire  is  the  purest  element,  and  the  most 
 active,  it  is  ever  sparkling  and  fiaming: 
 the  angels  are  the  most  noble  creatures, 
 they  are  represented  by  the  cherubims, 
 with  wings  displayed.  The  more  active  for 
 heaven,  the  more  illustrious,  and  the  more 
 do  we  resemble  the  angels.         T.  Watson. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Comfort  in  Christian. 
 
 Wouldst  thou  from  sorrow  find  a  sweet 
 relief  ? 
 Or  is  thy  heart  oppress'd  with  woes 
 untold"? 
 Balm  wouldst  thou  gather  for  corroding 
 grief? 
 Pour  blessings  round  thee  like  a  shower 
 
 of  gold : — 
 'Tis  when  the  rose  is  wrapped  in  many 
 a  fold 
 Close  to  its  heart,  the  worm  is  w^asting 
 there 
 Its  life   and   beauty !    not  when, 
 unroll'd. 
 
ACTIVITY— ADAM. 
 
 Leaf  after  leaf,  its  bosom,  ricli  and  fair, 
 Breathes  freely  its  perfumes  throughout  the 
 ambieut  air.  W.  Wilcox. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Importance  of. 
 
 It  is  good  policy  to  strike  while  the  iron 
 is  hot :  it  is  still  better  to  adopt  Cromwell's 
 procedure,  and  make  the  iron  hot  hy  strik- 
 ing. The  master-spirit  who  can  rule  the 
 storm  is  great,  but  he  is  much  greater  who 
 can  both  raise  and  rule  it.  To  attain  that 
 grand  power,  one  must  possess  the  brave 
 and  indomitable  soul  of  activity  v,-hich 
 prompted  Edmund  Burke  to  exclaim  to 
 his  constituents  in  his  famous  speech  at 
 Bristol,  "Applaud  us  when  we  run;  con- 
 sole us  when  we  fall;  cheer  us  when  we 
 recover;  but  let  us  pass  on — for  God's 
 sake  let  us  pass  on."  E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Incitement  to. 
 
 Wake  thou  that  sleepest  in   enchanted 
 bowers, 
 Lest  these  lost  years  should  haunt  thee 
 on  the  night 
 When  death  is  waiting  for  tiiy  immbered 
 hours 
 To  take  their  swift  and  everlasting 
 
 flight ; 
 Wake,  ere  the  earth-born  charm  un- 
 nerve thee  quite. 
 And  be  thy  thoughts  to  work  Divine  ad- 
 dress'd. 
 Do  something — do  it  soon — with  all 
 thy  might. 
 An  angel's  wing  would  droop  if  long  at 
 rest. 
 And  God  Himself,  inactive,  were  no  longer 
 blest. 
 'Tis  infamy  to  die  and  not  be  miss'd. 
 Or  let  all  soon  forget  that  thou  didst 
 e'er  exist ! 
 Rouse  to  some  work  of  high  and  holy  love. 
 And  thou  an  angel's  happiness  shalt 
 know, — 
 Shalt  bless  the  earth  while  in  the  world 
 above ; 
 The  good  begun  by  thee  shall  onward 
 
 flow 
 In    many    a  branching   stream,   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  !  W.  Wilcox. 
 
 ACTIVITY— Literary. 
 
 You  must  act :  inactive  contemplation  is 
 a  dangerous  condition  for  minds  of  pro- 
 found moral  sensibility.  We  are  not  to 
 dream  away  our  lives  in  the  contemplation 
 of  distant   or   imaginary  perfection.     We 
 
 are  to  act  in  an  imperfect  and  corrupt 
 world;  and  we  must  only  contemplate  per- 
 fection enough  to  ennoble  our  natures,  but 
 not  to  make  lis  dissatisfied  and  disgusted 
 with  these  faint  approaches  to  that  per- 
 fection, which  it  would  be  the  nature  of  a 
 brute  or  a  demon  to  despise.  It  is  for  this 
 i-eason  that  I  exhort  you  to  literary  ac- 
 tivity. It  is  not  as  the  road  of  ambition, 
 but  of  duty,  and  as  the  means  of  useful* 
 ness  and  the  resource  against  disease.  It 
 is  an  exercise  necesj<ary  to  your  own  health, 
 and  by  which  you  directly  serve  others. 
 
 Sir  J.  Mackintosh. 
 ACTIVITY— Soul. 
 
 There  is  a  fire-fly  in  the  southern  clime 
 Which  shineth  only  when  upon  the  wing ; 
 So  is  it  with  the  mind :  when  once  we  rest, 
 We  darken.    On  !  said  God  unto  the  soul. 
 As  to  the  earth,  for  ever.     On  it  goes, 
 A  rejoicing  native  of  the  infinite — 
 As  a  bird  of  aii- — an  orb  of  heaven.     Anon. 
 
 ACTS— Influence  of. 
 
 Think  how  our  acts  will  influence  others. 
 Augustine  of  Canterbury  remained  seated 
 when  the  clergy  of  Britain  approached, 
 Tliat  archiepiscopal  etiquette  caused  them 
 to  resist  him  as  provid,  and  thus  a  matter 
 so  small  as  keeping  a  seat  kept  ti%o 
 churches  apart,  and  perpetuated  disastrous, 
 feud.  The  right  or  wrong  of  an  iinniortal 
 spirit  often  depends  upon  impressions  made 
 by  our  conduct;  and  that  at  times  when 
 we  least  expect  observance,  and  when  the 
 matters  we  are  about  seem  to  us  of  the 
 most  trivial  import.  S.  Coley. 
 
 ACTS— Unselfish. 
 
 Unselfish  and  noble  acts  are  the  most 
 radiant  epochs  in  the  biography  of  souls. 
 When  wrought  in  earliest  youth,  they  lie 
 in  the  memory  of  age  like  the  coral  islands, 
 green  and  sunny,  amidst  the  melancholy 
 waste  of  ocean.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 ADAM— a  Type  of  Christ. 
 
 I.  Adam  had  no  father  but  God;  so 
 Christ  likewise  had  no  father  but  God. 
 They  were  both  in  an  especial  manner 
 called  the  sons  of  God ;  the  one  by  creation, 
 the  other  by  an  eternal  generation. 
 
 IL  Adam  was  made  heir  of  the  world; 
 Christ  is  heir  of  all  things,  not  only  of  this 
 world,  but  of  thai  which  is  to  come. 
 
 III.  Adam  was  a  common  or  public 
 person,  representing  all  his  seed  or  na- 
 tural oft'spriug ;  hence  his  sin  is  charged 
 upon  all  his  posterity  (Rom.  v,  12,  14). 
 Christ,  the  second  Adam,  is  a  common 
 public  person,  representing  all  His  true 
 seed  or  spiritual  ofl'spriug;  so  that  as 
 Adam's  sin  was  imputed  to  all  his  children, 
 so  is  Cljrist's  righteousness  imputed  to  all 
 His  children  through  faith  (Rom.  v,  19). 
 
 The  first  Adam  merited  death  for  his 
 
ADAPTATION— ADOPTION. 
 
 seed ;  the  second  Adam  merited  life  for  His 
 seed.  B.  Keach. 
 
 ADAPTATION— in  Nature. 
 
 The  bodies  of  animals  hold  in  their  con- 
 stitution and  properties  a  great  and  impor- 
 tant relation  to  the  elements  by  which 
 ,hey  are  surrounded.  The  wings  of  birds 
 ■^ear  a  relation  to  air,  and  the  fins  of  fishes 
 ;o  water. 
 
 Throughout  the  universe  there  is  a 
 woudertul  proportioning  of  one  thing  to 
 mother.  The  size  of  animals,  of  man  es- 
 oeciall}',  when  considered  with  respect  to 
 )ther  animals,  or  to  the  plants  which  grow 
 around  him,  is  such  as  a  regard  to  his  con- 
 veniency  would  have  pointed  out.  A  giant 
 or  a  pigmy  could  not  have  milked  goats, 
 reaped  corn,  or  mowed  grass  ;  a  giant  could 
 not  have  rode  a  horse,  trained  a  vine,  or 
 shorn  a  sheep,  with  the  same  bodily  ease  as 
 we  do,  if  at  all.  A  pigmy  would  have 
 been  lost  amongst  rushes,  or  carried  off  by 
 birds  of  prey. 
 
 It  may  be  observed,  likewise,  that  the 
 model  and  the  materials  of  the  human 
 body  being  what  they  are,  a  much  gi-eater 
 bulk  would  have  broken  down  by  its  own 
 weight.  The  persons  of  men  who  much 
 exceed  the  ordinary  stature  betray  this 
 tendency. 
 
 How  close  is  the  suitableness  of  the 
 earth  and  sea  to  their  several  inhabitants, 
 and  of  these  inhabitants  to  the  places  of 
 their  appointed  residence ! 
 
 Take  the  earth  as  it  is ;  and  consider  the 
 correspondency  of  the  powers  of  its  inhabi- 
 tants with  the  properties  and  condition  of 
 the  soil  which  they  tread.  Take  the  in- 
 habitants as  they  are ;  and  consider  the 
 substances  which  the  earth  yields  for  their 
 use.  They  can  open  its  surface;  and  its 
 surface  supplies  all  which  they  want. 
 Such  is  the  length  of  their  faculties,  and 
 such  the  constitution  of  the  globe,  that 
 this  is  sufficient  for  all  their  occasions. 
 
 When  we  pass  from  the  earth  to  the  sea, 
 from  land  to  water,  we  pass  through  a 
 great  change;  but  an  adequate  change 
 accompanies  us  of  animal  forms  and  func- 
 tions, of  animal  capacities  and  wants.  The 
 earth  in  its  nature  is  very  different  from 
 the  sea,  and  the  sea  from  the  earth;  but 
 one  accords  witli  its  inhabitants  as  exactly 
 as  the  other;  and  the  correspondency  m- 
 stituted  by  Divine  Wisdom  pervades  and 
 harmonises  the  whole.    Archdeacon  Paley. 
 
 ADOPTION— Assurance  of. 
 
 A  person  who  was  an  alien,  when  taken 
 into  the  family  of  a  citizen  and  recognised 
 as  a  child,  receives  the  assurance  of  his  son- 
 ship  in  the  smiles,  favours,  protection,  and 
 name  of  the  father ;  in  the  apparel  given 
 him  to  wear ;  in  the  aff"ection,  kindness, 
 and  union  of  the  members  of  the  family ; 
 
 in  the  knowledge  that  he  is  included  in  the 
 will  of  the  father.  Even  so,  he  who  wns 
 once  alienated  from  God,  but  now  adopted, 
 has  the  assurance  of  his  adoption,  in  the 
 Spirit  sent  into  his  heart ;  in  the  smiles  of 
 God  resting  upon  him ;  in  the  righteous- 
 ness of  Christ  which  clothes  him ;  in  the 
 provision  of  grace  which  he  enjoys,  in  the 
 protection  of  grace,  in  the  love  of  the 
 brethren,  in  the  knowledge  of  his  Father's 
 will.  John  Bate. 
 
 ADOPTION— Civil ; 
 
 Sacred. 
 
 Betwixt  cidl  and  sacred  adoption  there 
 is  a  twofold  agreement  and  disagreement. 
 They  agree  in  this,  that  both  flow  from  the 
 pleasure  and  good  will  of  the  adoptant; 
 and  in  this,  that  both  confer  a  right  to 
 privileges  which  we  have  not  by  nature ; 
 but  in  this  they  differ  :  one  is  an  act  imi- 
 tating nature,  the  other  transcends  nature  : 
 the  one  was  founA  out  for  the  comfort  of 
 them  that  had  no  children,  the  other  for 
 the  comfort  of  them  that  had  no  Father. 
 Divine  adoption  is  in  Scripture  either 
 taken  properly  for  that  act*  or  sentence  of 
 God  by  which  we  are  made  sons,  or  for  the 
 privileges  with  which  the  adopted  are  in- 
 vested. We  lost  our  inheritauce  by  the  fall 
 of  Adam ;  we  receive  it  by  the  death  of 
 Christ,  which  restores  it  again  to  us  by  a 
 new  and  better  title.  J.  Flavel. 
 
 ADOPTION— Definitions  of. 
 
 Adoption  is  that  act  of  God  by  which  we 
 who  were  alienated,  and  enemies,  and  dis- 
 inherited, are  made  the  sons  of  God,  and 
 heirs  of  His  eternal  glory.  R.  Watson. 
 
 Adoption  is  an  action  whereby  a  man 
 takes  a  person  into  his  family,  in  order  to 
 make  him  part  of  it,  acknowledges  him  for 
 his  son,  and  receives  him  into  the  number, 
 and  gives  him  a  right  to  the  privileges  of 
 his  children.  Pharaoh's  daughter  adopted 
 young  Moses,  and  Mordecai  Esther,  Ex.  ii, 
 io ;  Esther  ii,  7,  15.  A.  Cruden. 
 
 ADOPTION— Gain  of. 
 
 By  adoption  God  gives  us — 1,  a  new 
 nature  (2  Pet.  i,  3) ;  2,  a  new  name  (Rev. 
 iii,  12) ;  3,  a  new  inheritance  (Rom.  viii, 
 17) ;  4,  new  relations  (Rom.  viii,  15,  16); 
 5,  a  new  hope  (1  Pet.  i,  3).         John  Bate. 
 
 ADOPTION— Honour  of. 
 
 How  high  is  this  dignity  !  To  be  called 
 the  sons  of  God  !  this  is  our  prerogative 
 royal.  We  tell  you  not  of  a  kindred  im- 
 perial, adopted  into  some  of  the  Ca?sar's 
 families ;  nor  of  David  matching  into  the 
 house  of  Saul,  which  seemed  to  him  no 
 small  preferment ;  we  blazon  not  your  arms 
 with  the  mixture  of  noMe  ingressions,  nor 
 fetch  your  lineal  descents  from  heroes  and 
 
ALOPTIOir. 
 
 monarchs.  You  are  made  the  sons  and 
 daughters  of  God  :  this  is  honour  amply 
 sufficient.  T.  Adams. 
 
 When  the  Danish  missionaries  stationed 
 at  Malabar  set  some  of  their  converts  to 
 translate  a  Catechism,  in  which  it  was 
 asserted  that  believers  became  the  sons  of 
 God,  one  of  the  translators  was  so  startled 
 that  he  suddenly  laid  down  his  pen,  and 
 exclaimed  "It  is  too  much,  let  me  rather 
 render  it,  '  They  shall  be  permitted  to  kiss 
 His  feet !'  "  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 ADOPTION  (Divine)  —  contrasted  with 
 Man's. 
 1.  Men  generally  adopt  when  they  have 
 no  children  of  their  own.  But  God  had  a 
 Son,  His  dear  Son,  His  well-beloved  Son.  He 
 had  angels.  2.  Men  generally  adopt  such 
 as  they  think  deserving  ;  God  adopts  cri- 
 minals, traitors,  enemies.  3.  Men  adopt 
 living  children ;  God,  those  that  are  by 
 nature  spiritually  dead.  4.  Man  generally 
 adopts  one  only ;  God  adopts  many. 
 
 O.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 ADOPTION— Privileges  of. 
 
 By  it  God  the  Father  is  made  our  Father. 
 The  incarnate  God- man  is  made  our  elder 
 brother,  and  we  are  made — 1.  Like  Him. 
 2.  Intimately  associated  with  Him  in  com- 
 munity of  life,  standing,  relations,  and 
 privileges.  3.  Joint-heirs  with  Him  of 
 His  glory  (Eom.  viii,  17,  29 ;  Heb.  ii,  17 ; 
 iv,  15).  The  Holy  Ghost  is  our  indweller, 
 teacher,  guide,  advocate,  comfoi-ter,  and 
 sanctifier.  All  believers,  being  subjects  of 
 the  same  adoption,  are  brethren  (Eph.  iii, 
 6;  1  John  iii,  14;  v,  1).         A.  A. 
 
 Adoption  presents  the  new  creature  in 
 his  new  relations  ;  his  new  relations  entered 
 upon  with  a  congenial  heart,  and  his  new 
 life  developing  in  a  congenial  home,  and 
 surrounded  with  those  relations  which 
 foster  its  growth  and  crown  it  with  blessed- 
 ness. A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 ADOPTION— Spirit  of. 
 
 Sometimes  the  soul,  because  it  hath 
 somewhat  remaining  in  it  of  the  principle 
 that  it  had  in  its  old  condition,  is  put  to 
 question,  whether  it  be  a  child  of  God  or 
 not ;  and  thereupon,  as  in  a  thing  of  the 
 greatest  importance,  puts  in  its  claim,  with 
 all  the  evidences  that  it  hath  to  make  good 
 its  title.  The  spirit  comes  and  bears  wit- 
 ness in  this  case.  It  is  an  allusion  to 
 judicial  proceedings  in  point  of  titles. 
 The  judge  being  set,  the  person  concerned 
 lays  his  claim,  produceth  his  evidences,  and 
 pleads  them  ;  his  adversaries  endeavouring 
 all  that  in  them  lies  to  disannul  his  plea. 
 In  the  midst  of  the  trial  a  person  of  l.nown 
 
 and  approved  integrity  comes  into  the 
 court,  and  gives  testimony  fully  and  di- 
 rectly on  behalf  of  the  daimer,  which  stops 
 the  mouth  of  all  his  adversaries,  and  fills 
 the  man  with  joy  and  satisfaction.  So  is 
 it  in  this  case.  The  soul,  by  the  power  of 
 its  own  conscience,  is  brought  before  the 
 law  of  God ;  there  a  man  puts  in  his  plea, 
 that  he  is  a  child  of  God,  that  he  belongs 
 to  God's  family  ;  and  for  this  end  produ- 
 ceth all  his  evidences,  everything  whereby 
 faith  gives  him  an  interest  in  God.  Satan, 
 in  the  mean  time,  opposeth  with  all  his 
 might  J  many  flaws  are  found  in  hi? 
 evidences ;  the  truth  of  them  all  is  ques- 
 tioned, and  the  soul  hangs  in  suspense  as 
 to  the  issue.  In  the  midst  of  the  contest 
 the  Comforter  comes,  and  overpowers  the' 
 heart  with  a  comfortable  persuasion,  and 
 bears  down  all  objections,  that  his  plea  is 
 good,  and  that  he  is  a  child  of  God.  When 
 our  spirits  are  pleading  their  right  and 
 title,  He  comes  in  and  bears  witness  on 
 our  side.  At  the  same  time  enabling  us  to 
 put  forth  acts  of  filial  obedience,  crying 
 "  Abba,  Father"  (Gal.  iv,  6).    Dr.  J.  Owen. 
 
 ADOPTION— The  Trinity  in. 
 
 God  the  Father  adopteth,  as  the  fountain 
 of  adoption ;  God  the  Son,  as  the  conduit  j 
 God  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the  cistern ;  faith, 
 as  the  cock  whereby  it  runs  into  our 
 hearts.  T.  Adams, 
 
 ADOPTION— What  is  implied  in. 
 
 1.  Derivation  of  nature  from  God  (John 
 i,  13  ;  Jam.  i,  18 ;  1  John  v,  18). 
 
 2.  Being  born  again  in  the  image  of 
 God,  bearing  His  likeness  (Rom.  viii,  29; 
 2  Cor.  iii,  18;  Col.  iii,  10;  2  Pet.  i,  4). 
 
 3.  Bearing  His  name  (1  John  iii,  1 ; 
 Rev.  ii,  17  ;  iii,  12). 
 
 4.  Being  the  objects  of  His  peculiar  love 
 (John  xvii,  23 ;  Rom.  v.  5—8 ;  Titus  iii, 
 4;  1  John  iv,  7— 11). 
 
 5.  The  indwelling  of  the  Spirit  of  His 
 Son  (Gal.  iv,  6) ;  who  gives  an  obedient 
 spirit  (1  Pet.  i,  14  ;  2  John,  6),  a  spiri^  free 
 from  sense  of  guilt,  legal  bondage,  fear  of 
 death  (Rom.  viii,  15,  21 ;  2  Cor.  iii.  17 ; 
 Gal.  v,  1 ;  Heb.  ii,  15;  1  John  v,  14);  a 
 spirit  elevated  with  a  holy  boldness  and 
 royal  dignity  (Heb.  x,  19,  22;  1  Pet.  ii,  9; 
 iv,  14). 
 
 6.  Present  protection,  consolations,  and 
 abundant  provisions  (Ps.  cxxv,  2;  Isa.  Ixvi, 
 13;  Luke  xii,  27—32;  John  xiv,  18;  1 
 Cor.  iii,  21—23 ;  2  Cor.  i,  4). 
 
 7.  Present  fatherly  chastisements  for  our 
 good,  including  both  spiritual  and  temporal 
 afflictions  (Ps.  Ii,  11,  12 ;  Heb.  xii,  5—11). 
 
 8.  The  certain  inheritance  of  the  riches 
 of  our  Father's  glory,  as  heirs  with  God, 
 and  joint-heirs  with  Christ  (Rom.  viii,  17  ; 
 Jam.  ii,  5 ;  1  Pet.  i,  4 ;  iii,  7) ;  including 
 
ADOPTION— ADVICE. 
 
 the  exaltation  of  our  bodies  to  fellowship 
 with  Hiin  (Rom.  viii,  23;  Phil,  iii,  21). 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 ADOPTION  AND  JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Justification  is  the  act  of  God  as  a  Judge, 
 adoption  as  a  Father.  By  the  former  we 
 are  discharged  from  condemnation,  and 
 accepted  as  righteous ;  by  the  latter  we 
 are  made  the  children  of  God,  and  joint- 
 heirs  with  Christ.  By  the  one  we  are 
 taken  into  God's  favour ;  by  the  other  into 
 His  family.  Adoption  may  be  looked  upon 
 as  an  appendage  to  justification,  for  it  is 
 by  our  being  justified  that  we  come  to  a 
 right  to  all  the  honours  and  privileges  of 
 adoption.  J.  Guyse. 
 
 ADVERSITY— Discipline  of. 
 
 As  weeds  grow  fastest  in  a  fat  and  rank 
 soil,  so  our  corruptions  grow  and  thrive, 
 and  are  ready  to  overrun  our  souls,  when 
 our  outward  state  and  condition  is  most 
 prosperous  and  successful ;  and,  therefore, 
 God's  love  and  care  of  us  constrain  Him 
 sometimes  to  use  severe  discipline,  to  nip 
 those  luxuriances,  and  to  cut  us  short  in 
 our  temporal  enjoyments ;  which  else,  He 
 sees,  we  should  only  turn  into  provision  for 
 our  lusts.  Bp.  Sopkins. 
 
 ADVERSITY— No  Friends  in. 
 
 As  it  is  with  the  deer  that  is  hunted, 
 when  the  huntsman  goes  into  the  park,  he 
 rouses  the  whole  herd,  and  they  all  run 
 together  ;  but  if  one  be  shot,  and  they  see 
 the  blood  run  down,  they  will  soon  push 
 him  out  of  their  company.  Or,  as  a  man 
 being  in  his  travel  upon  the  road,  and  there 
 being  a  sun-dial  set  up  in  the  way,  if  the 
 sun  shine,  he  will  step  out  of  his  way  to 
 take  notice  of  it ,-  but  if  the  sun  do  not 
 shine,  he  will  go  by  a  hundred  times  and 
 never  regard  it.  So  let  but  the  sun  of 
 prosperity  shine  upon  a  man,  then  who  but 
 he  ?  he  shall  have  friends  more  than  a  good 
 many  ;  but' if  a  cloudy  day  come  and  take 
 away  the  sunshine,  he  m;iy  easily  number 
 his  acquaintance.  And  so  when  a  man 
 goes  on  in  the  credit  of  the  world,  he  shall 
 be  welcome  into  all  companies,  and  much 
 made  of  bj'  every  one  ;  but  it  he  come  once 
 to  be  shot,  and  disgrace  put  upon  him, 
 then  he  shall  soon  perceive  a  cloud  in  every 
 man's  face,  no  one  so  much  as  regarding 
 him.  Spencer. 
 
 ADVERSITY— Influence  of. 
 
 There  are  minerals  called  hj'drophanous, 
 ■wh'ch  are  not  transparent  till  they  are  im- 
 mersed in  water,  when  they  become  so ;  as 
 the  hydrophane,  a  variety  of  opal.  So  it 
 is  with  many  a  Christian.  Till  the  floods 
 of  adversity  have  been  poured  over  him, 
 his  character  appears  marred  and  clouded 
 by  selfishness  and  worldly  influences.     But 
 
 trials  clear  away  the  obscurity,  and  give 
 
 distinctness  and  beauty  to  his  piety. 
 
 Prof.  Hitchcock, 
 
 ADVERSITY— Others  in. 
 
 A  wretched  soul,  bruis'd  with  adversity, 
 
 We  bid  be  quiet  when  we  hear  it  cry ; 
 
 But  were  we  burthen'd  with  like  weight  of 
 pain. 
 
 As  much  or  more  we  should  ourselves  com- 
 plain. Shakespeare, 
 
 ADVERSITY— Short. 
 
 Ye  good  distressed ! 
 Ye  noble  few,  who  here  unbending  stand 
 Beneath  life's  pressure,  yet  bear  up  awhile. 
 And  what  your  bounded  view,  which  only 
 
 saw 
 A  little  part,  deem'd  evil,  is  no  more ; 
 The  storms  of  wintry  time   will   quickly 
 
 pass. 
 And  one  unbounded  spring  encircle  all. 
 
 J.  Thomson, 
 ADVERSITY— Useful. 
 Adversity,  sage  useful  guest. 
 Severe  instructor,  but  the  best. 
 It  is  from  thee  alone  we  know 
 Justly  to  value  things  below.      Somerville. 
 
 So  do  the  winds  and  thunder  cleanse  the  air; 
 So  working  bees  settle  and  purge  the  wme ; 
 So  lopp'd  and  pruned  trees  do  flourish  ; 
 So  doth  the  fire  the  drossy  gold  refine. 
 
 E.  Spenser. 
 
 ADVERSITY  AND  PROSPERITY. 
 
 If  adversity  hath  killed  his  thousands, 
 prosperity  hath  killed  his  ten  thousands ; 
 therefore  adversity  is  to  be  preferred.  The 
 one  deceives,  the  other  instructs  ;  the  one 
 miserably  happy,  the  other  happily  misera- 
 ble; and  therefore  many  philosophers  have 
 voluntarily  sought  adversity  and  so  much 
 commend  it  in  their  precepts.  Demetrius, 
 in  Seneca,  esteemed  it  a  great  infelicity 
 that  in  his  lifetime  he  had  no  misfortune. 
 Adversity  then  is  not  so  heavily  to  be  taken, 
 and  we  ov.ght  not  in  such  cases  so  much  to 
 macerate  ourselves.  R.  Burton. 
 
 ADVICE— Moral. 
 
 Know  thyself.  Be  contented  with  thy 
 lot.  Trust  not  wealth,  beauty,  nor  para- 
 sites, they  will  bring  thee  to  destruction. 
 Have  peace  with  all  men,  war  with  vice. 
 Be  not  idle.  Look  before  you  leap.  Be- 
 ware of  Had  I  wist.  Honour  thy  parents, 
 speak  well  of  friends.  Be  temperate  in 
 four  things,  lingua,  locis,  oculis,  et  poculis. 
 Watch  thine  eye.  Moderate  thine  ex- 
 penses. Hear  much,  speak  little,  snstine 
 et  abstine.  If  thou  seest  ought  amiss  in 
 another,  mend  it  in  thyself.  Keep  thine 
 own  counsel,  reveal  not  thy  secrets,  be 
 silent  in  thine  intentions.     Give  not  ear  to 
 
8 
 
 AFPECTATION— AFPECTION. 
 
 tale-tellers,  babblers,  be  not  scurrilous  in 
 conversation  :  jest  without  bitterness  :  give 
 no  man  cause  of  olfence  :  set  thine  house 
 in  order :  take  heed  of  suretyship.  Fide 
 et  diffi.de,  as  a  fox  on  the  ice ;  take  heed 
 whom  you  trust.  Live  not  beyond  thy 
 means.  Give  cheerfully.  Pay  thy  dues 
 willingly.  Be  not  a  slave  to  thy  money ; 
 omit  not  occasion,  embrace  opportunity, 
 lose  no  time.  Be  humble  to  thy  superiors, 
 respective  to  thine  equals,  afl'able  to  all, 
 but  not  familiar.  Flatter  no  man.  Lie 
 not,  dissemble  not.  Keep  thy  word  and 
 ])romise,  be  constant  in  a  good  resolution. 
 Speak  truth.  Be  not  opinfetive,  maintain 
 no  factions.  Lay  no  wagers,  make  no  com- 
 parisons. Find  no  faults,  meddle  not  with 
 other  men's  matters.  Admire  not  thyself. 
 Be  not  proud  or  popular.  Insult  not. 
 Fortunam  reverenter  liahe.  Fear  not  that 
 which  cannot  be  avoided.  Grieve  not  for 
 that  which  cannot  be  recalled.  Under- 
 value not  thyself.  Accuse  no  man,  com- 
 mend no  man  rashly.  Go  not  to  law  with- 
 out great  cause.  Strive  not  with  a  greater 
 man.  Cast  not  off  an  old  friend,  take  heed 
 of  a  reconciled  enemy.  If  thou  come  as  a 
 guest  stay  not  too  long.  Bo  not  unthank- 
 ful. Be  meek,  merciful,  and  patient.  Do 
 good  to  all.  Be  not  fond  of  fair  words. 
 lie  not  a  neuter  in  a  faction;  moderate 
 thy  passions.  Think  no  place  without  a 
 witness.  Admonish  thy  friend  in  secret, 
 commend  him  in  public.  Keep  good  com- 
 pany. Love  others,  to  be  loved  thyself. 
 Ama  tanquani  osunis.  Provide  for  a  tem- 
 pest. Do  not  prostitute  thy  soul  for 
 gain.  Make  not  a  fool  of  thyself  to  make 
 others  merry.  Marry  not  an  old  crony  or 
 a  fool  for  money.  Be  not  over  solicitous 
 or  curious.  Seek  that  which  may  be  found. 
 Seem  not  greater  than  thou  art.  Take  thy 
 pleasure  soberly.  Ocymiim  ne  terito.  Live 
 merrily  as  thou  canst.  Take  heed  hy  other 
 men's  examples.  Go  as  thou  wouldest  be 
 met,  sit  as  thou  wouldest  be  found.  Wilt 
 thou  live  free  from  fears  and  cares  ?  Live 
 innocently,  keep  thyself  upright,  thou 
 needest  no  other  keeper.  R.  Burton. 
 
 AFFECTATION. 
 
 Be  yourself.  Ape  no  greatness.  Be 
 willing  to  pass  for  what  you  are.  A  good 
 ftirthing  is  better  than  a  bad  sovereign. 
 Ad'ect  no  oddness ;  but  dare  to  be  right, 
 tlioiigh  you  have  to  be  singular.     S.  Coley. 
 
 AFFECTATION— Cure  of. 
 
 When  Cicero  consulted  the  oracle  at  Del- 
 ])lios,  concerning  what  course  of  studies  he 
 should  pursue,  the  answer  was,  "  Follow 
 Nature."  If  every  one  would  do  this,  affec- 
 tation would  be  almost  unknown. 
 
 J.  Beaumont, 
 AFFECTATION— an  Enemy. 
 
 Aifectation  is  the  greatest  enemy  both  of 
 
 doing  good  well,  and  good  acceptance  of 
 what  is  done.  I  hold  it  the  part  of  a  wise 
 man,  to  endeavour  rather  that  fame  may 
 follow  him  than  go  before  him.     Bp.  Hall. 
 
 Affectation  is  a  greater  enemy  to  the  face 
 than  smallpox.  St.  Fvremond. 
 
 AFFECTATION  IN  MINISTEES. 
 
 In  man  or  woman,  but  far  most  in  man, 
 And  most  of  all  in  man  that  ministers 
 And  serves  the  altar,  in  my  soul  I  loathe 
 All  affectation  ;  'tis  my  perfect  scorn ; 
 Object  of  my  implacable  disgust. 
 
 W.  Coivper. 
 
 AFFECTATION  AND  VANITY. 
 
 I  will  not  call  vanity  and  affectation 
 twins,  because,  more  properly,  vanity  is 
 the  mother,  and  affectation  is  the  darling 
 daughter.  Vanity  is  the  sin,  and  affecta- 
 tion is  the  punishment ;  the  first  may  he 
 called  the  root  of  self-love,  the  other  the 
 fruit.  Vanity  is  never  at  its  full  growth 
 till  it  spreadeth  into  affectation,  and  then 
 it  is  complete.  Sir  S.  Saville. 
 
 AFFECTION— Conjugal. 
 
 The  man  and  woman  should  be  made  and 
 meved  to  enter  into  the  married  state  by 
 the  united  perception  of  some  excellence, 
 real  or  supposed,  in  the  person  sustaining 
 it ;  thus  determining  each  to  a  particular 
 object.  A  vivid  delight  would  thus  be  felt 
 by  each  in  the  contemplation  of  the  object 
 selected;  and,  as  a  consequence,  each  would 
 desire  nothing  but  good  for  the  other. , 
 Now,  there  is  conjugal  love,  an  affection 
 which  supposes  the  existence  of  some 
 quality  or  qualities  in  the  beloved  object, 
 which,  by  virtue  of  the  constitution  of  the 
 mind,  are  capable  of  yielding  it  pleasure. 
 And  of  this  affection  marriage  is  the  visi- 
 ble symbol  or  means  of  ratificntion. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Harris. 
 
 Cavades,  King  of  the  Persians,  being  de- 
 posed and  imprisoned  by  his  subjects,  his 
 queen,  who  alnne  remained  attached  to  hira 
 in  all  his  misfortunes,  never  failed  to  bring 
 him  necessaries  with  her  own  hands,  though 
 she  was  not  permitted  to  see  him.  But 
 observing  the  keeper  of  the  castle  to  be 
 affected  with  her  beauty,  she  soothed  him 
 so  far  as  to  gain  access  to  her  husband,  and 
 thereby  procured  his  enlargement  :  for 
 staying,  as  she  often  did,  late  in  the  even- 
 ing, she  changed  clothes  with  the  king, 
 who  by  this  means  was  enabled  to  leave 
 the  prison  without  being  discovered.  As 
 she  pretended  to  be  sick,  and  not  to  leave 
 her  bed  for  some  days,  the  cheat  was  not 
 discovered  till  Cavades  had  time  enough  to 
 make  his  escape.  He  fled  to  the  King  of 
 the  Euthalites,  by  whose  assistance  he  was 
 restored  to  his  throne  and  kingdom. 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
APPECTION. 
 
 AFFECTION— Definition  of. 
 
 Affection,  in  a  philosophical  sense,  re- 
 fers to  the  manner  in  which  we  are  affected 
 by  anything  for  a  continuance,  whether 
 painful  or  pleasant ;  but  in  the  common 
 sense,  it  may  be  defined  to  be  a  settled  bent 
 of  mind  towards  a  particular  being  or  thing. 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 AFFECTION— Excellency  of. 
 There  is  in  life  no  blessing  like  affection ; 
 It  soothes,  it  hallows,  elevates,  subdues. 
 And   bringeth   down  to  earth,  its  native 
 
 heaven : — 
 Life  has  nought  else  that  may  supply  its 
 
 place.  L.  E.  Landon. 
 
 AFFECTION— Gift  of. 
 
 Every  gift  which  =s  given,  even  though 
 it  be  small,  is  in  reality  great,  if  it  be  given 
 with  afi'ection.  Findarus. 
 
 AFFECTION— Filial. 
 
 Epaminondas  was  one  of  the  greatest 
 generals  of  Greece.  When  he  had  con- 
 quered Sparta  and  delivered  Greece,  in  the 
 midst  of  universal  applause,  he  was  heard 
 to  say,  "  My  joy  arises  from  my  sense  of 
 that  which  the  news  of  my  victory  will 
 give  my  father  and  mother." 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 Cyaxares,  uncle  of  Cyrus  the  Great, 
 having  been  an  eye-witness  of  the  courage, 
 conduct,  and  many  amiable  qualities  of 
 his  nephew,  was  desirous  of  giving  a  signal 
 testimony  of  the  value  he  had  for  his  merit. 
 Cyaxares  had  no  son,  and  but  one  daughter. 
 This  favorite  princess  he  offered  in  mar- 
 riage to  Cyrus,  with  an  assurance  of  the 
 kingdom  of  Media  for  her  portion.  Cyrus, 
 who  loved  the  princess,  had  a  grateful 
 sense  of  it ;  but  nevertheless  did  not  think 
 himself  at  liberty  to  accept  it  till  he  had 
 first  obtained  the  consent  of  his  father  and 
 mother :  thus  leaving  a  noble  example 
 to  all  future  ages  of  the  respectful  submis- 
 sion and  dependence  which  all  children 
 ought  to  show  their  parents  on  the  like 
 occasion,  of  what  age  soever  they  be,  or  to 
 whatever  degree  of  power  and  greatness 
 they  may  have  arrived.         L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 Olympias,  Alexander's  own  mother,  was 
 of  such  an  unhappy  disposition,  that  he 
 would  never  let  her  have  any  concern  in 
 the  affairs  of  the  government.  She  used 
 frequently  to  make  very  severe  complaints 
 on  that  account ;  but  he  always  submitted 
 to  her  ill  humour  with  great  mildness  and 
 patience.  Antipater,  one  of  his  friends, 
 having  one  day  wrote  a  long  letter  against 
 her,  the  king,  after .  reading  it,  replied, 
 "  Antipater  does  not  know  that  one  single 
 tear    shed   by    a   mother   will    obliterate 
 
 ten  thousand  such  letters  as  this.*  A  be- 
 haviour like  this,  and  such  an  answer, 
 show  at  one  and  the  same  time  that  Alex- 
 ander was  both  an  affectionate  son  and  an 
 able  politician.  i.  M.  Stretch, 
 
 Ancient  history  records  that  a  certain 
 city  was  besieged,  and  at  length  obliged  to 
 surrender.  In  the  city  there  were  two 
 brothers  who  had,  in  some  way,  obliged 
 the  conquering  general;  and  in  conse- 
 quence of  this,  received  permission  to  leave 
 the  city  before  it  was  set  on  fire,  taking 
 with  them  as  much  of  their  property  as 
 each  could  carry  about  his  person.  Ac- 
 cordingly the  two  generous  youths  ap- 
 peared at  the  gates  of  the  city,  one  of 
 them  carrying  their  father,  and  the  other 
 their  mother.  K.  Arvine. 
 
 The  three  sons  of  an  eastern  lady  were 
 invited  to  furnish  her  with  an  expression 
 of  their  love,  before  she  went  a  long  jour- 
 ney. One  brought  a  marble  tablet,  with 
 the  inscription  of  her  name ;  another  pre- 
 sented her  with  a  rich  garland  of  fragrant 
 flowers;  the  third  entered  her  presence 
 and  thus  accosted  her  : — "  Mother,  I  have 
 neither  marble  tablet  nor  fragrant  nosegay, 
 but  I  have  a  heart :  here  your  name  is  en- 
 graved, li^re  your  memory  is  precious,  and 
 this  heart,  full  of  affection,  will  follow  you 
 wherever  you  travel,  and  remain  with  you 
 wherever  you  repose."  K.  Arvine. 
 
 AFFECTION— Filial  and  Fraternal. 
 
 A  short  time  since,  just  at  sunset  on  a 
 summer's  day,  I  went  to  the  grave  of  a 
 dear  sister  of  mine.  Her  two  little  boys 
 went  with  me.  When  we  had  arrived 
 there,  I  saw  four  little  rose-bushes  stand- 
 ing, two  at  the  head,  and  two  at  the  foot  of 
 the  grave,  bending  over,  as  if  to  meet  and 
 hang  over  the  grave. 
 
 "That  is  her  grave — our  mother's  grave," 
 said  one  of  the  boys. 
 
 "  And  those  rose-bushes,"  said  I,  as  the 
 tears  started  in  my  eyes. 
 
 "  Those,"  said  the  eldest,  "  brother  and 
 I  and  father  set  soon  after  she  was  laid 
 there.  Those  two  at  the  head  she  planted 
 in  the  garden  herself,  and  we  took  them  up 
 and  set  them  there,  and  call  them  '  Mother's 
 bushes.' " 
 
 "And  what  do  you  remember  about 
 your  dear  mother,  my  boys  ?" 
 
 "  Oh  !  everything." 
 
 "  What  in  particular  ?" 
 
 "  Oh  this,  uncle,  that  there  never  was 
 a  day  since  I  can  remember  in  which  she 
 did  not  take  us  to  her  closet,  and  pray 
 with  us,  unless  she  was  sick  on  the  bed  !" 
 
 Never  did  that  sister  seem  so  dear  to  me 
 as  at  that  moment;  and  never  did  my 
 heart  feel  so  full  a  hope  in  the  words 
 which  were  enarraved  on  the  tombstone : — 
 
10 
 
 AFFECTION. 
 
 "  No  mortal  woes 
 Can  reach  the  peaceful  sleeper  here, 
 While  angels  watch  her  soft  repose." 
 
 Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 AFFECTION— Fraternal. 
 
 Fraternal  att'ection  approaches  very 
 nearly  to  self-love ;  for  there  is  but  a  short 
 remove  from  our  own  concerns  and  hap- 
 piness to  theirs  who  came  from  the  same 
 stock,  and  are  partakers  of  the  same  blood. 
 Nothing,  therefore,  can  be  more  unnatural 
 than  discord  and  animosity  among  mem- 
 bers so  allied ;  and  nothing  so  beautiful  as 
 harmony  and  love. 
 
 This  relation  is  formed  by  nature,  not 
 by  choice  ;  and  though  it  has  many  things 
 in  common,  yet  it  is  ]>ri()r  to  the  obliga- 
 tions of  friendship,  and  the  tenderness 
 it  inspires  continues  in  the  bosom  of  the 
 just,  even  after  friendship  has  become 
 extinct;  consequently,  nature  and  reason 
 dictate  that  there  should  be  a  peculiar 
 aft'ectiou  between  brethren.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 Fathers  alone  a  father's  heart  can  know ; 
 What  secret  tides  of  still  enjoyment  flow 
 When  brothers  love :    but   if  their  hate 
 
 succeeds. 
 They  wage  the  war ;  but  'tis  the  fiither 
 
 bleeds.  Toung. 
 
 As  one  of  the  water-bearers  at  the  foun- 
 tain of  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain,  in 
 Paris,  was  at  his  usual  labours  in  August, 
 17G6,  he  was  taken  away  by  a  gentleman 
 in  a  splendid  coach,  who  proved  to  be  his 
 own  brother,  and  who,  at  the  age  of  thi-ee 
 years,  had  been  carried  away  to  India, 
 where  he  made  a  considerable  fortune. 
 On  his  return  to  France  he  made  inquiry 
 resjiecting  his  fiimily ;  and  hearing  that  he 
 had  only  one  brotlier  alive,  and  that  he 
 was  in  the  humble  condition  of  a  water- 
 bearer,  he  sought  him  out,  embraced  him 
 with  great  affection,  and  brought  him 
 to  his  house,  where  he  gave  him  bills  for 
 upwards  of  a  thousand  crowns  per  annum. 
 K.  Arvine. 
 AFFECTION— Maternal. 
 
 Entering  the  domestic  circle,  what 
 marks  of  benevolent  design  appear  in  the 
 arrangement  by  which  the  tender  remem- 
 brances and  yearning  associations  which 
 *'  accumulate  in  the  maternal  mind  during 
 the  period  of  gestation,  should  all  be 
 summed  up  amid  the  throes  of  parturi- 
 tion," and  go  to  augment  the  affection 
 which  she  is  henceforth  to  feel  to  her  off- 
 spring ;  by  which  the  necessary  aliment  is 
 secreted  in  the  maternal  bosom,  and  the 
 mouth  of  the  suckling  is  provided  with  the 
 means  of  abstracting  and  imbibing  it;  and 
 in  that  by  which  the  strength  of  the 
 maternal    regard   is  proportioned   to   the 
 
 helplessness  and  wants  of  her  child,  not 
 waiting  for  its  power  of  appreciating  and 
 returning  her  affection,  but  meeting  it 
 with  caresses  in  the  hour  of  its  weakness 
 and  unconsciousness,  Br.  J.  Harris. 
 
 The  poor  wren, 
 The  most  diminutive  of  birds,  will  fight, 
 Her  young  ones  in  her  nest,  against  the  owl. 
 S/iukespeare. 
 
 A  Campanian  lady,  who  was  very  rich, 
 and  still  fonder  of  pomp  and  show,  after 
 having  displayed,  in  a  visit  she  made 
 her  diamonds,  pearls,  and  richest  jewels, 
 earnestly  desired  Cornelia  the  illustrious, 
 mother  of  the  Gracchi,  to  let  her  see  her 
 jewels  also.  Cornelia  dexterously  turned 
 the  conversation  to  another  subject,  to 
 wait  the  return  of  her  sons,  who  were 
 gone  to  the  public  schools.  When  they 
 returned,  and  entered  their  mother's 
 apartment,  she  said  to  the  Campanian 
 lady,  pointing  to  them  with  her  hand, 
 "  These  are  my  jewels,  and  the  only  or- 
 naments I  admire."  And  such  orna- 
 ments, which  are  the  strength  and  support 
 of  society,  add  a  brighter  lustre  to  the  fair 
 than  all  the  jewels  of  the  East. 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 AFFECTION— Mutual. 
 
 To  see  a  father  treating  his  sons  like  an 
 elder  brother,  and  to  see  sons  covet  their 
 father's  company  and  conversation,  because 
 they  think  him  the  wisest  and  most  agree- 
 able man  of  their  acquaintance,  is  the  most 
 amiable  picture  the  eye  can  behold ;  it  is  a 
 transplanted  self-love,  as  sacred  as  friend- 
 ship, as  pleasurable  as  love,  and  as  happy 
 as  religion  can  make  it. 
 
 If  every  father  remembered  his  own 
 thoughts  and  inclinations  when  he  was 
 a  son,  and  every  son  remembered  what  he 
 expected  from  his  fathei  when  he  himself 
 was  in  a  state  of  dependency,  this  one 
 reflection  would  keep  fathers  from  bein<i 
 rigid,  or  sons  dissolute.         L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 All  school-day  friendship,  childhood  inno- 
 cence. 
 
 We,  Hermia,  like  two  artificial  gods. 
 
 Have  with  our  needles  created  both  one 
 flower. 
 
 Both  on  one  sampler,  sitting  on  one 
 cushion. 
 
 Both  warbling  of  one  song,  both  in  one  key. 
 
 As  if  our  hands,  our  sides,  voices,  and 
 minds 
 
 Had  been  incorporate.  Shakespeare 
 
 Among  the  saints  on  earth 
 
 Let  mutual  love  be  found ; 
 Heirs  of  the  same  inheritance, 
 
 With  mutual  blessings  crown'd. 
 
AFFECTION— AFFECTIONS. 
 
 11 
 
 Thus  will  the  Church  below 
 
 Resemble  that  above : 
 Where  streams  of  bliss  for  ever  flow, 
 
 And  every  heart  is  love.  Beddome. 
 
 In  one  fraternal  bond  of  love, 
 
 One  fellowship  of  mind. 
 The  saints  below  and  saints  above 
 
 Their  bliss  and  glory  find.  J.  Montgomery. 
 
 AFFECTION— Parental. 
 
 As  the  vexations  wliieh  parents  receive 
 from  their  children  hasten  the  approach  of 
 age,  and  double  the  weight  of  years ;  so 
 the  comforts  which  they  reap  from  them 
 are  a  balm  to  all  other  sorrows,  and  dis- 
 appoint the  injuries  of  time.  Parents  re- 
 peat their  lives  in  their  oflspring ;  and 
 their  concern  for  them  is  of  so  intense 
 a  nature,  that  they  feel  all  their  sufferings, 
 and  taste  all  their  enjoyments.  However 
 strong  we  may  suppose  the  fondness  of 
 a  father  for  his  children,  yet  they  may  find 
 more  lively  marks  of  tenderness  in  the 
 bosom  of  a  mother.  There  are  no  ties 
 in  nature  comparable  to  those  which  unite 
 an  affectionate  mother  to  her  children,  who 
 repay  her  tenderness  with  obedience  and 
 love.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 AFFECTION— Paternal. 
 
 Some  feelings  are  to  mortals  given, 
 
 With  less  of  earth  in  them  than  heaven  ; 
 
 And  if  there  be  a  human  tear 
 
 From  passion's  dross  refined  and  clear, 
 
 A  tear  so  limpid  and  so  meek 
 
 It  would  not  stain  an  angel's  cheek  : 
 
 Tis  that  which  pious  fathers  shed 
 
 Upon  a  duteous  daughter's  head. 
 
 Sir  W.  Soctt. 
 
 AFFECTION— Paternal. 
 
 History  informs  us  that  a  father  went 
 to  the  agents  of  a  tyrant  to  endeavour 
 to  redeem  his  two  sons,  military  men,  who, 
 with  some  other  captives  of  war,  were 
 appointed  to  die.  He  offered  as  a  ransom 
 to  surrender  his  own  life  and  a  large  sum 
 of  money.  The  soldiers  who  had  it  in 
 charge  to  put  them  to  death  informed 
 him  that  this  equivalent  would  be  ac- 
 cepted for  one  of  his  sons,  and  for  one 
 only,  because  they  should  be  accountable 
 for  the  execution  of  two  persons;  he 
 might,  therefore,  choose  which  he  would 
 redeem.  Anxious  to  save  even  one  of 
 them  thus  at  the  expense  of  his  own  life, 
 he  yet  was  utterly  unable  to  decide  which 
 should  die,  and  remained  in  the  agony 
 of  his  dilemma  so  long  that  his  sons  were 
 both  slain.  K.  Arvine. 
 
 AFFECTION— SubUmity  of. 
 
 There  is  more  in  the  heart  of  man  than 
 genius — it  has  the  power  of  affection. 
 The  highest  moment  known  on  earth  by 
 
 the  merely  natural,  is  that  in  which  the 
 mysterious  union  of  heart  with  heart  is 
 felt.  Call  it  friendship — love — what  you 
 will,  that  mystic  blending  of  two  souls  in 
 one,  when  self  is  lost  and  found  again  iu 
 the  being  of  another;  when,  as  it  were, 
 moving  about  in  the  darkness  and  loneli- 
 ness of  existence,  we  suddenly  come  in  con- 
 tact with  something,  and  we  find  that 
 S])irit  has  touched  spirit.  This  is  the 
 purest,  serenest  ecstasy  of  the  merely 
 human— more  blessed  than  any  sight  that 
 can  be  presented  to  the  eye,  or  any  sound 
 that  can  be  given  to  the  ear  :  more  sublime 
 than  the  sublimest  dream  ever  conceived 
 by  genius  in  its  most  gifted  hour,  when  the 
 freest  way  was  given  to  the  shaping  spirit 
 of  imagination.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 AFFECTIONS— The. 
 
 The  aS'ections  are  by  divines  called  the 
 feet  of  the  soul ;  if  these  feet  move  not  to- 
 ward heaven,  it  is  because  there  is  no  life. 
 T.  Watson. 
 AFFECTIONS —Earthly. 
 
 It  is  storied  of  Henry  the  Fourth  of 
 France,  asking  the  Duke  of  Alva  if  he  had 
 oliserved  the  eclipses  happening  in  that 
 year,  he  answered,  that  he  had  so  much 
 business  on  earth,  that  he  had  no  leisure 
 to  look  up  to  heaven.  A  sad  thing  it  is  for 
 men  to  be  so  bent,  and  their  hearts  so 
 set  on  the  things  of  this  world,  as  not 
 to  cast  up  a  look  to  the  things  that  are  in 
 heaven;  nay,  not  to  regard  though  God 
 brings  heaven  down  to  them  in  His  Word 
 and  sacraments.  Yet  so  it  is :  most  men 
 are  of  this  Spanish  general's  mind;  witness 
 the  oxen,  the  farms,  the  pleasures,  the 
 profits  and  preferments,  that  men  are 
 so  fast  glued  unto,  that  they  have  hardly 
 leisure  to  entertain  a  thought  of  any  good- 
 ness. Spencer. 
 
 AFFECTIONS— Exercise  of  the. 
 
 The  heart  is  the  noblest  part  of  human 
 nature,  and  God  says,  "My  son,  give  me 
 thine  heart."  And  just  as  the  affections 
 are  the  noblest  ingredient  in  human  nature, 
 so  the  elevation  and  happiness  of  a  human 
 being  mainly  depend  ou  the  right  bestow- 
 ment  and  ample  exercise  of  these  affections. 
 To  be  self-sufficient  and  self-seeking — that 
 is,  to  keep  all  the  affections  to  one's  self — 
 is  the  meanest  and  most  miserable  predica- 
 ment a  creature  can  be  in.  The  homestead 
 of  a  finite  spirit — much  more  the  desolate 
 chamber  of  a  sinful  heart — does  not  con- 
 tain resources  enough  for  its  own  blessed- 
 ness. The  soul  must  go  out  from  itself 
 if  it  would  find  materials  of  joy.  It  must 
 love  its  neighbour,  or  it  must  love  the 
 works  of  God,  or  it  must  love  its  family,  or 
 its  circle  of  friendship,  if  it  would  not 
 be  absolutely  dreary  and  foi'lorn.  And  just 
 
12 
 
 AFFECTIONS— APFLICTION 
 
 as  the  soul's  happiness  depends  on  going 
 out  from  itself,  so  its  elevation  depends  on 
 its  going  up — depends  on  its  setting  its 
 affections  on  something  higher  than  itself; 
 something  nobler,  or  holier,  or  more 
 engaging.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 AFPECTIONS— Governing  the. 
 
 He  that  rideth  a  fierce  horse,  let  the 
 horse  keep  what  pace  he  will,  so  long 
 as  the  rider  commands  him  hy  the  bridle, 
 we  say  he  rides  strongly  ;  but  if  the  horse 
 get  the  bit  in  his  mouth,  and  run  away, 
 the  faster  his  pace  the  weaker  the  rider, 
 because  he  cannot  check  him.  Our  affec- 
 tions are  just  like  tliat  fierce  horse,  and  our 
 reason  should  be  as  a  strong  bridle,  stir 
 they  never  so  much :  if  reason  command, 
 we  are  strong  ;  but  if  reason  have  no  power 
 and  our  affections  run  loose,  then  certainly 
 the  more  violent  they  are  the  more  weak 
 we  are.  Spencer. 
 
 AFFECTIONS— Harmony  of  the. 
 
 A  curious  musician  never  leaves  tamper- 
 ing with  his  instrument  till  it  be  in  tune ; 
 and  so  the  Christian  ceases  not  to  compose 
 his  affections  till  they  agree  among  them- 
 selves in  an  harmonious  peace.  J.  Brexelms. 
 
 AFFECTIONS— Heavenly. 
 
 The  eagle,  a  princely  bird,  of  piercing 
 sight,  a  swift  and  lofty  flight,  mounts  up- 
 wards, setting  light  by  the  things  that  are 
 below,  never  condescending  to  any  of  those 
 inferior  things  but  when  necessity  compels, 
 not  when  superfluity  doth  allure :  such  an 
 eagle  was  Zaccheus,  that  left  his  extortion  ; 
 Matthew  his  toll-gathering ;  Peter  his 
 all ;  such  as  used  this  world  as  if  they  used 
 it  not,  wher.ewith  to  supply  their  necessary 
 wants,  and  no  further.  O  happy  change  ! 
 when  they  leave  all  for  Him  that  is  worth 
 more  than  all ;  though  riches  increase,  yet 
 they  set  not  tlieir  hearts  upon  them ; 
 though  their  estates  be  changed,  yet  they 
 are  not  changed;  their  desire  is  not  to 
 be  rich  unto  this  world,  but  unto  God ; 
 their  bodies  are  below,  but  their  hearts  are 
 above ;  their  hves  here,  but  their  con- 
 versation is  in  heaven.  Spencer. 
 
 AFFECTIONS— Eight  bestowment  of  the. 
 
 The  main  part  of  true  religion  is  the 
 right  bestowment  of  the  affections.  ^Vhen 
 these  are  set  on  things  above — on  God,  and 
 on  Jesus  who  sitteth  at  God's  right  hand — 
 they  are  set  as  high  as  a  seraph  can  set  his. 
 They  are  set  so  high  that  they  cannot  fail 
 to  lift  the  character  along  with  them,  and 
 make  his  a  peculiar  life  whose  ends  in 
 living  are  so  lofty.  A  self-forgetting  de- 
 votion to  some  noble  earthly  character  has 
 exerted  a  refining  and  elevating  influence 
 on  many.  Veneration  for  some  illustrious 
 sage  has  sometiuies  quickened  a  sluggard 
 
 into  a  scholar,  and  enthusiastic  attachment 
 to  a  high-souled  patriot  lias  been  known  to 
 kindle  up  an  idler  into  a  hero.  But  there 
 is  only  One  of  character  so  lofty  and  of  in- 
 fluence so  transforming,  that  love  to  Him 
 will  convert  a  sinner  into  a  saint.  Such  a 
 One,  however,  there  is,  and  it  is  the  busi- 
 ness of  the  Gospel  to  make  Him  known. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Haynilton. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Benefit  of. 
 
 In  a  journal  of  a  tour  through  Scotland 
 by  the  Rev.  C.  Simeon,  of  Cambridge,  we 
 have  the  following  passage  : — "  Went  to  see 
 Lady  Ross's  grounds.  Here  also  I  saw 
 blind  men  weaving.  May  I  never  forget 
 the  following  fact.  One  of  the  blind  men, 
 on  being  interrogated  with  respect  to  his 
 knowledge  of  spiritual  things,  answered, 
 '  I  never  saw  till  I  was  blind ;  nor  did  I 
 ever  know  contentment  when  I  had  my 
 eyesight,  as  I  do  now  that  I  have  lost  it : 
 I  can  truly  affirm,  though  few  know  how 
 to  credit  me,  that  I  would  on  no  account 
 change  my  present  situation  and  circum- 
 stances with  any  that  I  ever  enjoyed  before 
 I  was  blind.'  He  had  enjoyed  eyesight  till 
 twenty-five,  and  had  been  blind  now  about 
 three  years.  My  soul,"  Mr.  Simeon  adds, 
 "was  much  affected  and  comforted  with 
 his  declaration.  Surely  there  is  a  reality 
 in  religion  \" 
 
 Affliction  is  a  thorn,  but  still  it  is  from 
 God,  by  which  He  pierces  through  the 
 leaves  of  pride.  Many  trees  grow  better 
 in  the  shade  than  in  the  sunsliine.  Oh  !  if 
 God  is  only  with  us,  the  furnace  is  changed 
 into  a  fire  of  joy,  a  prison  into  a  pleasure- 
 ground,  an  earthquake  into  a  cheerful 
 dance.  Even  the  rod  of  His  anger,  like 
 Aaron's  rod,  blossoms  and  bears  almonds, 
 like  the  staff  of  Jonathan's,  with  honey- 
 comb on  its  point.  Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 Affliction  is  the  wholesome  soil  of  virtue; 
 Where  patience,  honour,  sweet  humility, 
 Calm    fortitude,   take    root   and    strongly 
 flourish.  D.  Mallet. 
 
 The  good  are  better  made  by  ill. 
 
 As  odours  crush'd  are  better  still.  S.  Hogers. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Blessedness  of. 
 
 "  Why  should  I  murmur  ?"  said  Henry 
 Martin  in  his  last  sickness ;  "  weakness, 
 peril,  and  pain,  are  but  the  ministering 
 angels  whose  office  it  is  to  conduct  me  to 
 glory."  The  holiest  weep,  but  their  tears, 
 as  rain-drops  in  the  spring-time,  are  shot 
 through  with  sunbeams  ;  "  they  sorrow  not 
 as  those  without  hope."  S.  Coley. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Comfort  in. 
 
 There  will  be  no  Christian  but  what  will 
 have   a  Gethsemane,    but   every  praying 
 
ATFLICTIOK. 
 
 13 
 
 Christian  will  find  that  there  is  no  Getli- 
 semane  without  its  aiigel.  T.  Binney. 
 
 The  apostle,  speaking  of  persecuted 
 saints,  saith,  "  They  took  joyfully  the 
 spoiling  of  their  goods,  knowing  that  they 
 have  in  heaven  a  better  and  an  enduring 
 substance."  And  thus  David  (as  once  his 
 Jonathan)  tastes  honey  from  the  top  of  the 
 rod:  "Thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort 
 nie ;"  not  only  God's  staff  to  support  him, 
 but  even  His  rod  to  chastise  and  correct 
 him,  were  sweet  and  comfortable  to  him. 
 
 Bjp.  Hopkins. 
 AFFLICTION— Design  of. 
 
 Each  care,  each  ill  of  mortal  birth, 
 
 Is  sent  in  pitying  love. 
 To  lift  the  lingering  heart  from  earth, 
 
 And  speed  its  flight  above. 
 And  every  pang  that  wrings  the  breast. 
 
 And  every  joy  that  dies. 
 
 Tell  us  to  seek  a  purer  rest, 
 
 And  trust  to  holier  ties. 
 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 
 When  God  visits  us  in  affliction,  it  is  as 
 a  man  when  he  goes  to  try  a  vessel  to  see 
 whether  there  be  wine  or  water  in  it,  and 
 of  what  quality.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 When  God  afflicts  the  saints,  it  is  to  try 
 their  "  pi-ecious  faith."  Afflictions  are  His 
 spade  and  mattock,  by  which  He  digs  into 
 His  people's  hearts  to  find  out  the  gold  of 
 faith;  and  in  Hebrews  xi  He  commends 
 the  old  worthies,  not  for  their  love  and 
 patience,  but  for  their  faith.  Gurnall. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Discipline  of. 
 
 As  they  lay  copper  in  aquafortis  before 
 they  begin  to  engrave  it,  so  the  Lord 
 usually  prepares  us  by  the  searching, 
 softening  discipline  of  affliction  for  making 
 a  deep,  lasting  impression  of  Himself  upon 
 our  hearts.  Nottidge. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Duration  of. 
 
 The  Scriptures  use  several  figures  to 
 show  the  short  continuance  of  affliction : — 
 "for  a  season" — "a  day  of  adversity" — 
 "a  night  of  weeping" — "the  hour  of 
 temptation" — "our  light  affliction,  which 
 is  but  for  a  moment."  John  Bate. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Fearless  in. 
 
 God,  of  Thine  Israel's  faithful  three 
 
 Who  braved  the  tyrant's  ire. 
 Who  nobly  scorn'd  to  bow  the  knee, 
 
 And  walk'd  unhurt  in  fire  : — 
 O  breathe  their  faith  into  my  breast, 
 
 In  every  trying  hour  ; 
 And  stand,  0  Son  of  Man,  confess'd 
 
 In  all  Thy  saving  power ! 
 While  Thou,  Almighty  Lord,  art  nigh. 
 
 My  soul  disdains  to  fear ; 
 
 Both  sin  and  Satan  I  defy, 
 
 Still  impotently  near ; 
 The  earth  and  hell  their  wars  may  wage, 
 
 I  mock  their  vain  design  ; 
 And  calmly  smile  to  see  them  rage 
 
 Against  a  child  of  Thine.      C.  Wesley. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Fruitfulness  of. 
 
 When  Mr.  Cecil  was  walking  in  the 
 Botanical  Gardens  of  Oxford,  his  attention 
 was  arrested  by  a  fine  pomegranate  tree, 
 cut  almost  through  the  stem  near  the  root. 
 On  asking  the  gardener  the  reason  of  this, 
 "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  this  tree  used  to  shoot  so 
 strong  that  it  bore  nothing  but  leaves ;  I 
 was  therefore  obliged  to  cut  it  in  this 
 manner ;  and  when  it  was  almost  cut 
 through,  then  it  began  to  bear  plenty  of 
 fruit."  The  reply  atibrded  this  inquisitive 
 student  a  general  practical  lesson,  which 
 was  of  considerable  use  to  him  in  after  life, 
 when  severely  exercised  by  personal  and 
 domestic  afllictions.  Alas  !  in  many  case.s, 
 it  is  not  enough  that  the  useless  branches 
 of  the  tree  be  lopped  off,  but  the  stock 
 itself  must  be  cut — and  cut  nearly  through 
 — before  it  can  become  extensively  fruitful 
 And  sometimes  the  finer  the  tree,  and  the 
 more  luxuriant  its  growth,  the  deeper  must 
 be  the  incision.  J.  A.  James, 
 
 AFFLICTION— as  a  Furnace. 
 
 1.  A  furnace  is  prepared  for  gold :  "  The 
 refining  pot  for  silver,  and  the  furnace  for 
 gold;"  so  afllictions  are  appointed  for  the 
 saints,  who  are  compared  to  gold. 
 
 2.  A  furnace  refines  gold,  and  makes  it 
 much  purer  than  before;  so  afflictions  re- 
 fine and  make  more  holy  :  "  When  He  hath 
 tried  me,  I  shall  come  forth  as  gold." 
 
 3.  A  furnace  is  made  sometimes  very 
 hot,  according  to  the  kind  and  condition  of 
 the  metal;  go  are  afflictions,  sometimes 
 very  grievons,  heavy,  and  trying,  as  the 
 case  requires. 
 
 4.  A  furnace  melts  the  gold,  and  makes 
 it  soft  before  it  is  refined;  so  afflictions 
 those  whom  they  mean  to  purify. 
 
 5.  A  furnace  will  destroy  tin,  lead,  &c., 
 and  also  the  drossy  part  of  gold;  so 
 afflictions  burn  up  the  loose  and  hypo- 
 critical, and  purges  from  His  people  all 
 their  corruptions. 
 
 6.  The  metal,  when  it  comes  forth  from 
 the  furnace,  is  more  prepared  for  its  proper 
 use ;  so  are  the  people  of  God  when  they 
 come  forth  from  afflictions.  B.  Keach. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Future  Good  of. 
 
 To  a  person  unacquainted  with  the  pro- 
 cess, the  pruning  of  the  tree,  the  clearing 
 of  the  ground  with  the  ploughshare,  the 
 operation  of  the  chisel  on  the  stone,  would 
 look  like  an  eflbrt  to  destroy.  But  look  at 
 the  things  afterwards.     Behold  the  vine. 
 
14 
 
 AFFLICTION. 
 
 adorned  with  purple  clusters;  survey  the 
 field,  enriched  with  its  golden  crops;  ex- 
 amine the  sculptor's  labours,  when  he  has 
 finished  his  design  :  then  it  is  we  discover 
 that,  out  of  apparent  injury,  arises  this 
 happy  result ;  it  is  intended  by  God  that 
 we  should  lose  nothing  by  our  afflictions 
 but  our  sins.  Anon. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Good  in. 
 
 The  cloud  which  appeared  to  the  prophet 
 Ezekiel  carried  with  it  winds  and  storms, 
 but  it  was  environed  with  a  golden  circle, 
 to  teach  us  that  the  storms  of  affliction, 
 which  happen  to  God's  children,  are  en- 
 compassed with  brightness  and  smiling 
 felicity.  iV.  Caussiii. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Goodness  of  God  in. 
 
 We  heat  back  the  flame,  not  with  a  pur- 
 pose to  suppress  it,  but  to  raise  it  higher, 
 and  diffuse  it  more. 
 
 These  afflictions  and  repulses  which 
 seem  to  be  discouragements,  are  indeed 
 the  merciful  incitements  of  grace.  If  God 
 did  mean  judgment  to  my  soul,  He  would 
 either  witlidraw  the  fuel,  or  pour  water 
 upon  the  fire,  or  sufier  it  to  languish  for 
 want  of  new  motions ;  but  now  that  He 
 continues  to  me  the  means,  and  oppor- 
 tunities, and  desires  of  good,  I  shall  mis- 
 construe the  intentions  of  my  God,  if  I 
 shall  think  His  crosses  sent  rather  to  damp 
 than  to  quicken  His  Spirit  in  me.  Bp.  Sail. 
 
 AFFLICTION— The  Good  Man  in. 
 
 Affliction  is  the  good  man's  shining  scene; 
 Prosperity  conceals  his  brightest  ray ; 
 4.S  night  to  stars,  woe  lustre  gives  to  man. 
 Young. 
 
 Aromatic  plants  bestow 
 No  spicy  fragrance  while  they  grow  ; 
 But,  crush'd  or  trodden  to  the  ground, 
 Diffuse  their  balmy  sweets  around. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Graces  multiply  by. 
 
 Graces  multiply  by  afflictions,  as  the 
 saints  did  by  persecutions.  "The  move 
 they  were  afflicted,  the  more  they  multi- 
 plied." These  terrors  may  aflront  us;  they 
 shall  not  aflright  us.  Crosses  be  rough  and 
 smarting;  but  we  look  to  the  unction  of 
 comfort,  that  makes  them  portable  and 
 easy.  In  all  conditions  we  bless  His  provi- 
 dence who,  according  to  His  own  wisdom, 
 not  ours,  disposeth  things ;  which,  if  they 
 be  harsh  to  a  state  that  must  suffer,  are 
 good  for  an  estate  that  shall  be  blessed  for 
 ever.  T.  Adams. 
 
 AFFLICTION- followed  by  Heaven. 
 
 Wlien  the  Christian's  last  ])it  is  digged, 
 when  he  is  descended  into  his  grave,  and 
 
 finished  his  state  of  sorrows  and  suffering, 
 then  God  opens  the  river  of  abundance,  the 
 rivers  of  life  and  never  ceasing  felicities. 
 As  much  as  moments  are  exceeded  by  eter- 
 nity, and  the  sighing  of  a  man  by  the  joy 
 of  an  angel,  and  a  salutary  frown  by  the 
 light  of  God's  countenance,  a  few  groans 
 by  the  infinite  and  eternal  hallelujahs  :  so 
 much  are  the  sorrows  of  the  saints  to  be 
 undervalued,  in  respect  of  what  is  deposited 
 for  them  in  the  treasures  of  eternity.  Their 
 sorrows  can  die,  but  so  cannot  their  joys. . . . 
 Every  chain  is  a  ray  of  light,  and  every 
 prison  is  a  palace,  and  every  loss  is  the 
 purchase  of  a  kingdom,  and  every  aff'ront 
 in  the  cause  of  God  is  an  eternal  honour, 
 and  every  day  of  sorrow  is  a  thousand 
 years  of  comfort,  multiplied  with  a  never- 
 ceasing  numeration  :  days  without  night, 
 joys  without  sorrow,  sanctity  without  sin, 
 charity  without  stain,  possession  without 
 fear,  society  without  envying,  communica- 
 tion of  joys  without  lessening ;  and  they 
 shall  dwell  in  a  blessed  country,  where  an 
 enemy  never  entered,  and  from  whence  a 
 friend  never  went  away.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 AFFLICTION- Heavier. 
 
 The  physician,  when  he  findeth  that  the 
 potion  which  he  hath  given  his  patient  will 
 not  work,  he  seconds  it  with  one  more  vio- 
 lent ;  but  if  he  perceive  the  disease  to  be 
 settled,  then  he  puts  him  into  a  course  of 
 physic,  so  that  he  shall  have  at  present  but 
 small  comfort  of  his  life.  And  thus  doth 
 the  surgeon,  too :  if  a  gentle  plaister  will 
 not  serve,  then  he  applies  that  which  is 
 more  corroding;  and  to  prevent  a  gangrene, 
 he  makes  use  of  his  cauterizing  knife,  and 
 takes  off"  the  joint  or  member  that  is  so  ill- 
 aflected.  Even  so  God,  when  men  profit 
 not  by  such  crosses  as  He  hath  formerly 
 exercised  them  with,  when  they  are.  not 
 bettered  by  lighter  afflictions,  then  He  sends 
 heavier,and  proceeds  from  milder  to  sharper 
 crosses.  If  the  dross  of  their  sins  will  not 
 come  off".  He  will  throw  them  into  tho 
 melting-pot  again  and  again,  crush  them 
 harder  in  the  press,  and  lay  on  such  irons 
 as  shall  enter  more  deep  into  their  souls. 
 If  He  strikes  and  they  grieve  not,  if  they 
 be  so  foolish  that  they  will  not  know  the 
 judgment  of  their  God,  He  will  bring  seven 
 times  more  plagues  upon  them,  cross  upon 
 cross,  loss  upon  loss,  trouble  upon  trouble, 
 one  sorrow  on  the  neck  of  another,  till  they 
 ai-e  in  a  manner  wasted  and  consumed. 
 
 Spencer. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Hope  in. 
 What  though  my  harp  and  viol  be 
 Both  hung  upon  the  willow  tree? 
 What  though  my  bed  be  now  my  grave, 
 And  for  my  house  I  darkness  have  ? 
 What  though  my  healthful  days  are  fled, 
 And  I  lie  numbered  with  the  dead  ? 
 
AFFLICTION. 
 
 15 
 
 Yet  I  have  hope,  hy  Thy  great  power. 
 To  spring — though  now  a  withered  flower. 
 R.  Rerrick. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Impatience  under. 
 
 The  truth  is,  when  we  are  under  any 
 afHiction,  we  are  generally  troubled  with  a 
 malicious  kind  of  melancholy ;  we  only 
 dwell  and  pore  upon  the  sad  and,  dark 
 occurrences  of  Providence ;  but  never  take 
 notice  of  the  more  benia:n  and  bright  ones. 
 Our  way  in  tliis  world  is  like  a  walk  under 
 a  row  of  trees,  checkered  with  light  and 
 shade  :  and  because  we  cannot  all  along 
 walk  in  the  sunshine,  we  therefore  per- 
 versely fix  only  upon  the  darker  passages, 
 and  so  lose  all  the  comfort  of  our  comforts. 
 We  are  like  froward  children  who,  if  you 
 take  one  of  their  playthings  from  them, 
 throw  away  all  the  rest  in  spite. 
 
 Bp.  Sojihins. 
 
 AFFLICTION— as  Medicine. 
 
 Affliction  is  the  medicine  of  the  mind. 
 If  it  be  not  toothsome,  let  it  suffice  that 
 it  is  wholesome.  It  is  not  required  in 
 physic  that  it  should  please,  but  heal, 
 
 B]p.  Senshaw. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Patience  in. 
 
 On  her  arrival,  Mrs.  Tatham  was  greatly 
 distressed  to  see  her  beloved  child  reduced 
 by  acute  suifering  to  a  state  of  total  pro- 
 stration. During  this  season  of  anguish, 
 however,  the  sufierer  manifested  the  most 
 Christian  patience.  The  Rev.  G.  I.  John- 
 son, an  aged  minister  of  Christ,  inquired 
 of  her  what  he  should  particularly  pray 
 for;  and  received  answer,  "That  I  may 
 have  entire  resignation."  "  How  good  it 
 is  to  have  Jesus  near  us  in  the  hour  of 
 trial !"  "  Yes,"  said  Miss  Tatham  ;  "  but 
 I  cannot  either  pray  or  trust  Him  as  I 
 ought:  I  feel  I  deserve  to  perish.  Jesus! 
 Saviour !  help  me  to  come  to  Thee !  Save 
 me !  Thou  art  all  in  all— all  in  all.  My 
 Saviour  !  be  thou  near  me  through  life's 
 night.  Give,  0  give  me  Thy  Holy  Spirit ! 
 Jesus !  Jesus !  may  I  not  be  impatient  or 
 ungrateful."  Memoir  of  Miss  Tatham. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Preservation  in. 
 
 The  three  Hebrew  children  were  won- 
 derfully preserved,  not  only  from  de- 
 struction, but  even  from  the  smell  of  fire 
 upon  their  garments.  All  they  lost  were 
 the  bands  which  bound  them.  So  are 
 Christ's  people  graciously  kept  in  the  hour 
 of  affliction  from  the  destroying  power 
 of  their  enemies.  The  Son  of  God  is  with 
 them  as  He  was  with  the  Hebrew  worthies. 
 They  lose  nothing  but  the  evils  of  their 
 nature,  which  have  hitherto  been  entangle- 
 ments to  them.  They  come  forth  with 
 freedom  and  purity  for  the  service  of  God, 
 either  on  earth  or  in  heaven.     John  Bate. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Purification  of. 
 He  that  from  dross  would  win  the  precious 
 ore, 
 
 Bends  o'er  the  crucible  an  earnest  eye. 
 The  subtle  searching  process  to  explore. 
 
 Lest  the  one  brilliant  moment  should  pass 
 
 When,  in  the  molten  silver's  virgin  mass, 
 He  meets  his  pictured  face  as  in  a  glass. 
 
 Thus  in  God's  furnace  are  His  people  tried ; 
 
 Thrice  happy  they  who  to  the  end  endure. 
 But  who  the  fiery  trial  may  abide  ? 
 
 Who  from  the  crucible  come  forth  sopure 
 That  He  whose  eyes  of  flame  look  through 
 
 the  whole 
 May  see  His  image  perfect  in  the  soul  ? 
 
 Nor  with  an  evanescent  glimpse  alone. 
 As  in  that  mirror  the  refiner's  face ; 
 But,  stampt  with  Heaven's  broad  signet, 
 there  be  shown 
 Immanuel's  features,  full  of  truth  and 
 grace : 
 And  round  that  seal  of  love  this  motto  be, 
 "  Not  for  a  moment,  but — eternity  !" 
 
 /.  Montgomery. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Examples  of. 
 
 FiKST,  OF  SAINTS. — Joseph  (Gen.  xxxix, 
 20—23;  Psa.  ciii,  17—19).  Moses  (Heb. 
 xi,  23).  Eli  (1  Sam.  iii,  18).  Nehemiah 
 (i,  4).  Job  (i,  20—22).  David  (2  Sam. 
 xii,  15—23).  Paul  (Acts  xx,  22— 24j 
 xxi,  13.  Apostles  (1  Cor.  iv,  13 ;  2  Cor. 
 vi,  4—10). 
 
 Secondly  of  the  wicked. — Pliaraoh 
 and  the  Egyptians  (Ex.  ix,  14,  15;  xiv, 
 24,  25).  Ahaziah  (2  Kings  i,  1—4).  Ge- 
 hazi  (2  Kings  v,  27).  Jehoram  (2  Chr. 
 xxi,  12—19).  Uzziah  (2  Chr.  xxvi,  19—21). 
 Ahaz,  &c.  (2  Chr.  xxviii,  5—8,  22). 
 
 Anon. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Examples  of  the  Benefit  of. 
 Joseph's  brethren  {Gew.  xlii,  21).  Joseph 
 (Gen.  xlv,  5,  7,  8).  Israel  (Deu.  viii,  3,  5). 
 Josiah  (2  Kings  xxii,  19).  Rezelciah  (2  Chr. 
 xxxii,  25,  26).  Manasseh  (2  Chr.  xxxiii, 
 12).  Jonah  (ii,  7).  Job.  David.  Pro- 
 digal son  (Luke  xv,  21).  Ihid. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Submission  in. 
 
 Drones  gather  honey  only  from  the 
 hive ;  a  true  believer  will  gather  it  even 
 from  thistles.  We  prescribe  not  a  physician 
 by  what  medicine  he  shall  help  our  bodies ; 
 and  shall  we  set  down  our  heavenly 
 Physician  a  course,  how  He  shall  deal  in 
 the  cure  of  our  souls  ?  To  think  we  need 
 no  pills,  no  cauteries,  is  to  think  we  are 
 not  the  sons  of  Adam.  Had  we  rather 
 stay  in  Egypt  than,  by  passing  the  penu- 
 rious deserts  of  Arabia,  to  come  to  our 
 Canaan  ?  It  was  a  great  prince  that, 
 being  in  health,  pleasantly  asked  bis  phy- 
 sician which  was  the  way  to  heaven  j  he 
 
16 
 
 APniCTIOlT— AGE, 
 
 gravely   answered,    "  That  your  highness 
 thought  upon  when  you  were  hist  sick." 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 Come,  then,  affliction,  if  my  Father  bids, 
 And  be  my  frowning  friend :  a  friend  that 
 
 frowns 
 '  Is  better  than  a  smiling  enemy. 
 We  welcome  clouds  which  bring  the  farmer 
 
 rain, 
 Though  they  the  present  prospect  blacken 
 
 round. 
 And  shade  the  beauties  of  the  op'ning  year. 
 That,  by   their  rich   stores   enrich'd,  the 
 
 earth  may  yield 
 A  fruitful  summer  and  a  plenteous  crop. 
 
 C  Swaine. 
 
 Submissively,  my  God, 
 
 I  all  to  Thee  resign, 
 And  bow  before  Thy  chast'ning  rod ; 
 
 Nor  will  I,  Lord,  repiue. 
 Why  should  my  heart  complain 
 
 When  wisdom,  truth,  and  love 
 Direct  the  stroke,  intiict  the  pain. 
 
 And  point  to  joys  above  ? 
 How  short  my  suff'riugs  here  ; 
 
 How  needful  every  cross  : 
 Away  with  doubt,  distress,  and  fear, 
 
 Nor  call  my  gain  my  loss. 
 
 T.  Haiveis. 
 
 ArrilCTIOU'— Sympathy  of  Jesus  in. 
 
 They  tell  us  that  in  some  trackless  lands, 
 when  one  friend  passes  through  the  path- 
 less forests,  he  breaks  a  twig  ever  and  anon 
 as  he  goes,  that  those  who  come  after  may 
 see  the  traces  of  his  having  been  there,  and 
 may  know  that  they  are  not  out  of  the 
 road.  Oh,  when  we  are  journeying  through 
 the  murky  night,  and  the  dark  woods  of 
 affliction  and  sorrow,  it  is  something  to 
 find  here  and  there  a  spray  broken,  or  a 
 leafy  stem  bent  down  with  the  tread  of 
 His  foot  and  the  brush  of  His  hand  as  He 
 passed  ;  and  to  remember  that  the  path  He 
 trod  He  has  hallowed,  and  that  there  are 
 lingering  fragi-ances  and  hidden  strengths 
 m  the  remembrance,  "  in  all  points  tempted 
 as  we  are,"  bearing  grief /b?*  us,  bearing 
 grief  with  us,  bearing  grief  like  us. 
 
 J.  Maclaren. 
 
 *?irLICTION— Use  of. 
 
 Affliction  is  a  winged  chariot,that  mounts 
 up  the  soul  toward  heaven.  T.  Adams. 
 
 AFFLICTION— Various  views  of. 
 
 No  man  is  more  unhappy  than  the  man 
 who  is  never  in  adversity.  In  other  words, 
 the  greatest  affliction  in  life  is  never  to 
 be  afflicted. 
 
 "  If  my  property  had  not  perished,"  says 
 an  ancient  philosopher,-  "  I  should  have 
 perished."     Many  of  the  servants  of  God 
 
 have  been  enriched  for  eternity  by  being 
 made  poor  for  a  time. 
 
 Our  bodies  need  physic ;  our  trees  need 
 pruning ;  our  metals  need  the  furnace  ;  and 
 our  minds  need  the  discipline  of  affliction. 
 
 Afflictions  are  blessings  to  us,  when  we 
 can  bless  God  for  afflictions. 
 
 Sanctified  afflictions  are  spiritual  pro- 
 motions. 
 
 Under  the  equitable  Master  whom  we 
 serve,  we  do  not  sufier  a  single  affliction 
 that  hath  not  for  its  foundation  either  His 
 justice,  which  corrects  us  for  our  sins, 
 or  His  mercy,  which  would  prevent  the 
 faults  into  which  we  are  liable  to  fall. 
 There  is  not  one  affliction,  therefore,  which 
 is  not  either  a  just  chastisement  or  a  mer- 
 ciful preservation.  Anon. 
 
 AGE — Happiness  of. 
 
 As  ripe  fruit  is  sweeter  than  green  fruit, 
 so  is  age  sweeter  than  youth,  provided  the 
 youth  were  grafted  into  Christ.  As  harvest- 
 time  is  a  brighter  time  than  seed-time,  so 
 is  age  brighter  than  youth ;  that  is,  if  youth 
 were  a  seed-time  for  good.  As  the  com- 
 pletion of  a  work  is  more  glorious  than  the 
 beginning,  so  is  age  more  glorious  than 
 youth ;  that  is,  if  the  foundation  of  the 
 work  of  God  were  laid  in  youth.  As  sailing 
 into  port  is  a  happier  thing  than  the  voyage, 
 so  is  age  happier  than  youth ;  that  is,  when 
 the  voyage  from  youth  is  made  with  Christ 
 at  the  "helm.  J.  Pulsjord. 
 
 AGE— of  Man. 
 
 But  few  men  die  of  old  age.  Almost  all 
 die  of  disappointment,  passionate,  mental, 
 or  bodily  toil,  or  accident.  The  passions 
 kill  men  sometimes  even  suddenly.  The 
 common  expression,  "choked  with  passion," 
 has  little  exaggeration  in  it;  for  even, 
 though  not  suddenly  fatql,  strong  passions 
 shorten  life.  Strong-bodied  men  die  young 
 — weak  men  live  longer  than  the  strong, 
 for  the  strong  use  their  strength,  and  the 
 weak  have  none  to  use.  The  latter  take 
 care  of  themselves,  the  former  do  not.  As 
 it  is  with  body,  so  it  is  with  mind  and 
 temper.  The  strong  are  apt  to  break 
 down,  or,  like  the  candle,  to  run,  the  wick 
 burned  out.  The  inferior  animals,  which 
 live,  in  general,  regular  and  temperate  lives, 
 have  generally  their  prescribed  term  of 
 years.  The  horse  lives  twenty-five  years ; 
 the  ox  fifteen  or  twenty ;  the  lion  about 
 twenty ;  the  dog  ten  or  twelve;  the  rabbit 
 eight;  the  Guinea-pig  six  to  seven  years. 
 These  numbers  all  bear  a  similar  proportion 
 to  the  time  the  animal  takes  to  grow  to  its 
 full  size. 
 
 When  the  cartilaginous  parts  of  the 
 bone  become  ossified,  the  bone  ceases  to 
 grow.  This  takes  place  in  man  at  about 
 twenty  years,  on  an  average;  in  the  camel 
 at  eight ;  in  the  horse  at  five ;  in  the  ox  ab 
 
AGE. 
 
 17 
 
 four;  in  the  Hon  at  four ;  in  the  dog  at  two; 
 iu  the  cat  at  eighteen  months;  in  the  rabbit 
 at  twelve;  iu  the  Guiuea-pig  at  seven. 
 Five  or  six  times  these  numbers  give  the 
 term  of  life;  five  is  pretty  near  the  average  ; 
 some  animals  greatly  exceed  it.  But  man, 
 of  all  the  animals,  is  the  one  that  seldom 
 comes  up  to  his  average.  He  ought  to  live 
 a  hundred  years,  according  to  his  physio- 
 logical law,  for  five  times  twenty  are  a 
 hundred;  but  instead  of  that,  he  scarcely 
 reaches,  on  the  average,  four  times  his 
 growing  period;  whilst  the  dog  reaches  six 
 times;  the  cat  six  times ;  the  rabbit  even 
 eight  times  his  standard  of  measurement. 
 The  reason  is  obvious — man  is  not  only  the 
 most  irregular  and  most  intemperate,  but 
 tlie  most  laborious  and  hard- worked  of  all 
 animals.  He  is  also  the  most  irritable  of 
 all  animals;  and  there  is  reason  to  believe, 
 though  we  cannot  tell  what  an  animal 
 secretly  feels,  man  cherishes  wrath  to  keep 
 it  warm,  and  consumes  himself  with  the 
 fire  of  his  own  secret  reflections. 
 
 Blaehwood, 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Activity  and  Strength  in. 
 
 When  seventy-three  years  old,  he  (Wes- 
 ley) writes,  that  he  is  far  abler  to  preach 
 than  he  was  at  three-and-twenty.  What 
 natural  means  has  God  used  to  produce 
 so  wonderful  an  effect  ?  he  asks. — 1.  Con- 
 tinual exercise  and  change  of  air,  by 
 travelling  about  4000  miles  in  a  year.  2. 
 Constant  rising  at  four.  3.  The  ability  to 
 sleep  immediately,  when  he  needed  it.  4. 
 The  never  losing  a  night's  sleep  in  his  life. 
 5.  Two  violent  fevers,  and  two  "  deep 
 consumptions.  These,  it  is  true,"  he  adds. 
 "  were  rough  medicines ;  but  they  were  of 
 admirable  service,  causing  my  flesh  to  come 
 again,  as  the  flesh  of  a  little  child."  Lasti_) , 
 he  mentions  evenness  of  temper.  "  I  feel 
 and  grieve ;  but,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I 
 fret  at  nothing."  Dr.  Stevens. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Activity  and  Strength  in. 
 Tho'  I  look  old,  yet  I  am  strong  and  lusty ; 
 For  in  my  youth  I  never  did  apply 
 Hot  and  reljeUious  liquors  in  my  blood ; 
 Nor  did  not  with  unbashful  forehead  woo 
 The  means  of  weakness  and  debility; 
 Therefore  ray  age  is  as  a  lusty  winter, 
 Frosty,  but  kindly.  Shakespeare. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Beautiful. 
 
 The  gray  hairs  of  threescore  years  and 
 ten  were  his  (Wesley's)  only  sign  of  de- 
 clining life.  His  brow  was  smooth,  his 
 eye  clear  and  brilliant  as  in  youth — "  the 
 brightest  and  most  piercing  that  can  be 
 conceived,"  says  one ;  his  complexion  ruddy, 
 his  voice  strong,  and  an  addition  of  years 
 nearly  equal  to  what  was  then  a  genera- 
 tion remained  for  him.  Good,  great, 
 marvellous   old  man!   history   would  not 
 
 be  faithful  to  herself  if  she  could  con- 
 template him  at  this  period  without  emo- 
 tion. Br.  Stevens. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Description  of. 
 
 We  have  here  an  elegant  description  of 
 old  age.  "  Then  the  sun,  and  the  light, 
 and  the  moon,  and  the  stars,  will  be  dark- 
 ened." That  is,  aU  outward  comfort  and 
 prosperity,  whether  by  day  or  by  night, 
 will  be  eclipsed  and  withdrawn. 
 
 "  And  the  clouds  will  return  after  the 
 rain."  That  is,  one  bodily  distemper  and 
 trouble  will  follow  another  in  quick  suc- 
 cession. 
 
 Then  wiU  "  the  keepers  of  the  house 
 tremble."  That  is,  the  arms  and  hands, 
 which  defend  the  body,  will  by  reason  of 
 their  cold  and  dry  temper  shake  and  quiver. 
 
 "  And  the  strong  men  will  how  them- 
 selves." That  is,  the  thighs  and  legs, 
 which  have  strongly  borne  up  the  structure 
 of  the  body,  will  be  weak,  and  need  the 
 support  of  a  staff  to  assist  them. 
 
 "And  the  grinders  will  cease  because 
 they  are  few."  That  is,  the  teeth,  which 
 chew  and  grind  our  food,  will  break,  decay, 
 and  fall  out ;  so  that,  being  reduced  to  a 
 few,  they  will  be  unalile  to  do  their  office. 
 
 "  And  those  who  look  out  at  the  windows 
 will  be  darkened."  That  is,  the  sight  v/ill 
 fail ;  the  eye,  through  which,  as  through  a 
 window,  the  soul  looks  out,  being  dim  and 
 weakened. 
 
 "  And  the  doors  shall  be  shut  in  the 
 streets."  That  is,  the  lips  and  mouth  will 
 be  disabled  from  speaking  and  eating. 
 
 "  When  the  sound  of  the  grinding  is 
 low."  That  is,  digestion,  which  is  assisted 
 by  cliewing,  will  be  weak  and  imperfect, 
 so  that  the  system  will  be  ill  supplied  with 
 nourishment. 
 
 "  And  he  shall  rise  up  at  the  voice  of  the 
 bird."  That  is,  our  sleep  will  be  so 
 shallow,  that  the  least  noise  will  awake  us, 
 and  so  short,  that  it  will  prevent  the  cock 
 crowing. 
 
 "  And  all  the  daughters  of  music  shall 
 be  brought  low."  That  is,  our  ears  will 
 grow  dull,  so  that  the  sweetest  music  will 
 have  lost  all  its  charms. 
 
 "  And  they  shall  be  afraid  of  that  which 
 is  high."  That  is,  we  shall,  by  reason  of 
 weariness,  dizziness,  and  want  of  breath, 
 be  afraid  of  ascending  high  places,  and  of 
 attempting  such  high  things  as  in  youth 
 we  adventured  upon  without  hesitation. 
 
 "  And  fears  shall  be  in  the  way."  That 
 is,  we  shall  be  afraid  in  our  joiu'neying, 
 lest  we  dash  our  weak  and  weary  foot 
 against  a  stone. 
 
 "  And  the  almond-tree  shall  flourish." 
 That  is,  our  head  will  grow  white,  like  the 
 alm(md-tree,  which  soon  ripens. 
 
 "  And  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a  burden." 
 That  is,  the  least  weight  will  be  too  heavy 
 2 
 
18 
 
 AGE. 
 
 for  our  infirm  body;  yea,  we,  'being tlien  like 
 enough  to  grasshoppers,  shall  be  a  burden 
 both  to  ourselves  and  to  others. 
 
 "  And  desire  shall  fail."  That  is,  all  our 
 bodily  appetites  will  cool  and  cease. 
 
 At  length  "  the  silver  cord  will  be 
 loosed."  That  is,  the  back-bone,  with  the 
 spinal  marrow  which  it  encloses,  and  the 
 nerves  and  fibres  belonging  to  it,  will  be 
 weakened. 
 
 "  And  the  golden  bowl  will  be  broken." 
 That  is,  the  vessel  and  membrane  in  which 
 the  brain  is  enclosed  (which  is  aptly  called 
 "golden,"  both  for  its  colour  and  value) 
 will  at  last  be  shattered. 
 
 "  And  the  pitcher  will  be  broken  at  the 
 fountain."     That  is,  the  veins  will  cease  i 
 from   doing  their  office,  at  the  right  ven-  | 
 tricle  of  the  heart,  which  is  the  fountain  of 
 life ;  and  so,  our  blood  stagnating,  we  are 
 soon  extinguished. 
 
 "  And  the  wheel  shall  be  broken  at  the 
 cistern."  That  is,  the  great  artery,  which 
 is  knit  to  the  left  side  of  the  heart,  by 
 which  the  blood  is  conveyed  into  the 
 system  generally,  ceases  its  action,  and  the 
 pulse  with  it,  which  are  the  immediate 
 forerunners  of  death. 
 
 And  "  then  the  dust  returns  to  the  earth 
 as  it  was,  and  the  spirit  returns  unto  God 
 •who  gave  it."  Thus  we  see  man's  body, 
 like  some  curious  edifice,  first  battered  by 
 various  storms;  at  length  the  roof  and 
 walls  decay  ;  and  at  last  it  falls  to  the 
 ground  :  but  our  blessed  Redeemer  hath 
 provided  for  the  inhabitant  "  a  house  not 
 made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 
 R.  Smith. 
 AGE  (Old)— Dread  of. 
 
 Let  me  not  live. 
 After  my  flame  lacks  oil,  to  be  the  snuff 
 Of  younger    spirits,    whose    apprehensive 
 
 senses 
 All  l>ut  new  things  disdain ;  whose  judg- 
 ments are 
 Mere    fathers  of  their    garments:  whose 
 
 constancies 
 Expire  before  their  fashions.    Shalcespeare. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Happiness  in. 
 
 Thank  God  most  High  for  all  His  un- 
 merited mercies  and  lovingkindness  to  me, 
 to  this  day,  now  closing  my  seventy- 
 seventh  year.  Through  waves,  and  clouds, 
 and  storms,  He  has  gently  cleared  my  way. 
 Praise  to  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne, 
 and  makoth  all  things  now.  Amen,  and 
 Amen.  O  eternity  !  blissful  eternity  !  Sin, 
 earth,  and  hell  I  now  defy  ;  I  lean  upon  my 
 Saviour's  breast !  God  be  thanked  !  Amen. 
 The  end  shall  soon  come;  joyful  news ! 
 
 Gideon  Ouseley. 
 AGE  (Old)— Happy. 
 Though  old,  he  still  retained 
 His  manly  sense  and  energy  of  mind; 
 Virtuous  and  wise  he  was,  but  not  severe ; 
 
 He   still   remembered    that  he   once  was 
 
 young ; 
 His  easy  presence  check'd  no  decent  joy, 
 Him  even  the  dissolute  admired,  for  he 
 A  graceful  looseness,  when  he  pleased,  put 
 
 on. 
 And,  laughing,  could  instruct.   Armstrong. 
 
 AGE— (Old)  Happy. 
 
 How  hajipy  is  the  evening  tide  of  life. 
 
 When  phlegm  has  quench'd  our  passions, 
 
 trifling  out 
 The  feeble  remnant  of  our  silly  days 
 lu  follies,  such  as  dotage  best  is  pleased 
 
 with. 
 Free  from  the  wounding  and  tormenting 
 
 cares 
 That    toss    the    thoughtful,   active,    busy 
 
 miud.  T.  Otway. 
 
 In  age  and  feebleness  extreme 
 Who  shall  a  heljiless  worm  redeem  ? 
 Jesus,  my  only  hope  Thou  art, — 
 Strength  of  my  failing  flesh  and  heart; 
 Oh  !  could  I  catch  a  smile  from  Thee, 
 And  drop  into  eternity.  C.  Wesley, 
 
 So  fine  an  old  man  (that  is,  Wesley),  says 
 one  who  often  saw  him,  I  never  saw.  The 
 happiness  of  his  mind  beamed  forth  in 
 his  countenance ;  every  look  showed  how 
 fully  he  enjoyed  "  the  gay  remembrance  of 
 a  life  well  spent."  Wherever  he  went  he 
 dirt'used  a  portion  of  his  own  felicity.  .  .  . 
 AVhile  the  grave  and  serious  were  charmed 
 with  his  wisdom,  his  sportive  sallies  of 
 innocent  mirth  delighted  even  the  young 
 and  thoughtless ;  and  both  saw  in  his  un- 
 interrupted cheerfulness  tlje  excellence  of 
 
 true  religion -In  him,  even  old  age 
 
 appeared  delightful — like  an  evening  with- 
 out a  cloud  ;  and  it  was  impossible  to  observe 
 him  without  wishing  frequently,  "  May 
 my  latter  end  be  like  his."        Br.  Stevens. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Honorable. 
 
 Philo,  the  learned  Jew,  noted  that,  al- 
 though many  in  the  beginning  lived  to  a 
 great  length  of  time,  so  that  they  more 
 than  trebled  the  years  of  Abraham,  yet 
 none  is  mentioned  and  named  to  have  been 
 an  old  man  in  Scripture  until  Abraham,  of 
 whom  it  is  said  that  he  died  in  a  good  old 
 age  (Gen.  xxv,  8),  whereof  Philo  con- 
 ceiveth  the  reason  to  be  because,  though 
 his  years  were  fewer,  his  virtues  were 
 more,  and  because  he  was  gone  farther  in 
 the  way  of  righteousness,  though  his  course 
 were  shorter  in  the  way  of  life  ;  and  this  it 
 was  that  made  his  old  age  to  be  good ;  this 
 it  was  that  made  it  to  be  a  crown  of  glory ; 
 for  it  is  a  reproach  to  be  able  to  prove  our 
 old  age  only  by  numbers  of  years,  and  not 
 by  increase  of  knowledge  and  goodness; 
 it  being  so,  that  age  will  never  become 
 truly  honorable,  nor  the  hoary  head  as  a 
 
AGE— AGES. 
 
 19 
 
 crown  of  glory,  till  it  be  found  in  the  way 
 of  righteousness.  Spencer. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Hopes  of. 
 
 Here  is  one  that  wishes  to  live  longer; 
 
 Peels  not  his  gout,  nor  palsy  ;  feigns  him- 
 self 
 
 Younger  by  scores  of  years ;  flatters  his  age 
 
 With  confident  belying,  with  hopes  he  may 
 
 With  charms,  like  Eson,  have  his  youth 
 restored ; 
 
 And  with  those  thoughts  so  battens,  as  if 
 fate 
 
 Would  be  as  easily  cheated  on  as  he. 
 
 £en  Jonson. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Eeligion  in. 
 
 Behold  a  patriarch  of  years,  who  leaneth 
 
 on  the  staff  of  religion  ; 
 His  heart  is  fresh,  quick  to  feel,  a  bursting 
 
 fount  of  generosity; 
 He,  playful  in  his  wisdom,  is  gladdened  in 
 
 his  children's  gladness. 
 He,  pure  in  his  experience,  loveth  in  his 
 
 son's  first  love  : 
 Lofty    aspirations,   deep    aifections,    holy 
 
 hopes,  are  his  delight ; 
 His  abliorrence    is    to    strip   from  life  its 
 
 charitable  garment  of  ideal. 
 The  shrewd  world    laughed    at    him    for 
 
 honesty,  the  vain  world  mouthed  at 
 
 him  for  honour. 
 The  false  world  hated  him  for  truth,  the 
 
 cold  world  despised  him  for  affection. 
 Still  he  kept  his  treasure,  the  warm  and 
 
 noble  heart. 
 And  in  that   happy  old  man  survive  the 
 
 child  and  lover.  M.  Tupjjer. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Eeverence  of. 
 
 "  Thou  shalt  rise  up  before  the  hoary 
 head,  and  honour  the  face  of  the  old  man, 
 and  fear  thy  God."  (Levit.  xix,  32.)  God 
 hath  put  a  signal  honour  upon  it  by 
 styling  Himself  "the  Ancient  of  Days;" 
 and  He  threatens  it  as  a  great  judgment 
 upon  a  people  (Isa.  iii,  5),  that  the  children 
 shall  behave  themselves  proudly  against 
 the  ancients.  We  read  how  severely  a 
 scorn  cast  upon  an  aged  prophet  was  re- 
 venged on  those  children  which  mocked 
 his  baldness.  A  reverend  awe  before  them 
 is  not  only  a  point  of  manners,  but  a  part 
 of  a  moral  and  express  duty ;  and  there- 
 fore it  is  said  of  Elilui  (Job  xxxii,  4)  that 
 he  waited  till  Job  had  spoken,  because 
 lie  was  elder  than  he;  and  in  verse  6  he 
 saith,  "  I  am  young,  and  ye  are  very  old : 
 wherefore  I  was  afraid,  and  durst  not 
 show  you  mine  opinion."         B^.  Hopkins. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Self-respect  in. 
 
 If  reverence  is  due  from  others  to  the 
 old,  they  ought  also  to  respect  themselves ; 
 and  by  grave,  and  prudent,  and  holy  ac- 
 tions, to  put  a  crown  of  glory  upon  their 
 
 own  gray  heads.  They  ought  not  to  be 
 vain  and  light  in  their  converse  ;  nor  chil- 
 dren of  a  hundred  years  old ;  nor,  by  the 
 folly  and  wickedness  of  their  lives,  expose 
 themselves  to  that  contempt  which  will 
 certainly  be  cast  upon  them,  where  age  is 
 not  accompanied  with  gravity  and  pru- 
 dence. And  therefore  we  find  it  (Prov. 
 xvi,  31),  "  The  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of 
 glory,  if  it  be  found  in  the  way  of  right- 
 eousness;" otherwise,  instead  of  being  a 
 glory,  it  is  but  a  double  shame  and  re- 
 proach, Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 AGE  (Old)- Scene  in. 
 
 The  son  of  Crabbe  gives,  in  his  bio- 
 graphy of  the  poet,  a  brief  scene  in  the 
 last  days  of  Wesley  : — "At  Lowestoft,  one 
 evening,  all  adjourned  to  a  Dissenting 
 chapel  to  hear  the  venerable  John  Wesley 
 on  one  of  the  last  of  his  peregrinations. 
 He  was  exceedingly  old  and  infirm,  and 
 was  attended,  almost  su23ported,  in  the 
 pulpit  by  a  young  minister  on  each  side. 
 The  chapel  was  crowded  to  suffocation. 
 In  the  course  of  the  sermon  he  repeated, 
 though  with  an  application  of  his  own,  the 
 lines  from  Anacreon  : 
 "  '  Oft  am  I  by  woman  told. 
 
 Poor  Anacreon  !  thou  grow'st  old  j 
 See,  thine  hairs  are  falling  all ; 
 Poor  Anacreon  !  how  they  fall ! 
 Whether  I  grow  old  or  no. 
 By  these  signs  I  do  not  know ; 
 By  this  I  need  not  to  be  told 
 'Tis  time  to  live,  if  I  grow  old ! ' 
 "  My  father  was  much  struck  by  his  re- 
 verend   appearance,   and  his   cheerful  air, 
 and  tlie  beautiful  cadence  he  gave  to  these 
 lines;  and    after    the    service    he  was  in- 
 troduced to  the  p;itriarch,  who  received  him 
 with  benevolent  politeness."     Dr.  Stevens. 
 
 AGE  (Old)— Veneration  of. 
 
 The  eye  of  age  looks  meek  into  my 
 heart !  The  voice  of  age  echoes  mourn- 
 fully through  it !  The  hoary  head  and 
 palsied  hand  of  age  plead  irresistibly  for 
 its  sympathies!  I  venerate  old  age;  and 
 I  love  not  the  man  who  can  look  without 
 emotion  upon  the  sunset  of  life,  when  the 
 dusk  of  evening  begins  to  gather  over  the 
 watery  eyes,  and  the  shadows  of  twilight 
 grow  broader  and  deeper  upon  the  under- 
 standing. Longfelloiu. 
 
 AGES— Old. 
 
 Men  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  sim- 
 plicity and  purity  of  past  times,  and  to 
 compare,  with  a  sigh,  the  good  old  era  of 
 the  stage-coach  and  the  spinning-wheel 
 with  these  days  of  whizzing  machinery, 
 Aladdin  palaces,  and  California  gold.  But 
 the  core  of  logic  that  lies  within  this  rind 
 of  sentiment  forces  a  conclusion  tliat  the 
 world  is  going  backward.     I  never  knew 
 
20 
 
 AGONY— AMBITION. 
 
 of  an  epoch  that  was  not  thought  by  some 
 then  living  to  be  the  worst  tliat  ever  was, 
 and  which  did  not  seem  to  stand  in  humi- 
 lisitiug  contrast  with  some  blessed  period 
 gone  by.  But  the  golden  age  of  Christi- 
 anity is  in  the  future,  not  in  the  past. 
 Tiiose  old  ages  are  like  the  landscape  that 
 shows  best  in  purple  distance,  all  verdant 
 and  smooth,  and  bathed  in  mellow  light. 
 But  could  we  go  back  and  touch  the  reality, 
 we  should  find  many  a  swamp  of  disease, 
 and  rough  and  grimy  paths  of  rock  and 
 mire.  Those  were  good  old  times,  it  may 
 bethought,  when  baron  and  peasant  feasted 
 togetlier.  But  the  one  could  not  read,  and 
 made  his  mark  with  a  sword-pommel,  and 
 the  other  was  held  as  dear  as  a  favorite 
 dog.  Pure  and  simple  times  were  those  of 
 our  grandfathers — it  may  be.  Possibly 
 not  so  pure  as  we  may  think,  however,  and 
 with  a  simplicity  ingrained  with  some 
 bigotry  and  a  good  deal  of  conceit. 
 
 Dr.  Chapin, 
 AGONY  OP  CHRIST, 
 
 The  agony  of  our  Lord  was  a  conflict,  a 
 violent  struggle,  a  grappling  and  wrestling 
 with  the  deepest  horror,  the  agitation  of  a 
 breast  penetrated  with  the  greatest  sense 
 of  fear  and  amazement.  He  was  heard  in 
 that  He  feared.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 AGONY  OF  CHRIST— Causes  of  the. 
 
 1.  The  powers  of  darkness — legions  of 
 devils,  who  poured'  on  His  devoted  head 
 their  utmost  rage  and  mahce.  2.  The 
 feeling  of  the  weight  of  the  wrath  of  God 
 (and who  knoweth  the  power  of  His  anger? ) 
 as  kindled  against  sin,  the  terrors  of  the 
 Lord,  the  cup  of  trembling,  the  withdraw- 
 ing of  God's  comfortable  presence.  3.  The 
 fear  of  His  farther  sufl'ering — a  violent, 
 dreadful,  and  approaching  death.  4.  The 
 atoning  for  our  coldness,  and  the  painful 
 foresight  with  how  much  truth  those  words 
 of  the  prophet  might  be  applied  to  many, 
 "  Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  ?" 
 J.  Fletcher. 
 
 AGONY  OP  CHRIST— Tears  in  the. 
 
 He  filled  the  silent  night  with  His  cry- 
 ing, and  watered  the  cold  earth  with  His 
 tears,  more  precious  than  the  dew  of 
 Hermon,  or  any  moisture,  next  unto  His 
 own  blood,  that  ever  fell  on  God's  earth 
 since  the  creation  (see  Heb.  v,  7). 
 
 Traill. 
 AIMING  HIGH. 
 
 Some  time  ago  half  a  dozen  young  men, 
 dressed  in  green,  were  shooting  at  a  target 
 with  bows  and  arrows,  when  the  arrows  of 
 one  of  them  invariably  struck  the  earth, 
 on  account  of  his  aiming  too  low.  "Aim 
 hicfher"  cried  out  one  of  his  companions, 
 '■'Aim  higher,  fix"  vour  arrow-head  is  alwavs 
 
 pointed  to  the  ground.  He  that  aims  at  a 
 barn-door  will  never  hit  the  weathercock 
 on  the  church  spire." 
 
 A  father  giving  advice  to  his  son,  said, 
 "Let  your  objects  be  high  and  holy,  and 
 then  the  High  and  Holy  One  will  give  you 
 strength  and  grace  to  attain  them." 
 
 "  What  would  you  advise  me  to  aim 
 at  ?"  asked  a  young  man  of  a  Christian 
 friend.  "At  riches  and  honours,"  replied 
 his  friend,  "  if  you  mean  to  be  satisfied 
 with  earth  ;  but  at  Christian  graces,  if  you 
 have  any  desire  ever  to  enter  heaven." 
 
 G.  Mogridge. 
 
 ALCOHOL — in  Great  Britain,  Money  spent 
 in. 
 
 Would  every  year  support  200,000  mis- 
 sionaries (which  would  be  about  one  to 
 every  3000  adult  heathen)  at  £200  each ; 
 2000  superannuated  missionary  labourers  ' 
 at  £100  each;  100,000  schoolmasters  at 
 £100  each;  build  2000  churches  and 
 chapels  at  £2000  each ;  build  200  schools  at 
 £500  each;  give  to  50,000  widows  5s. 
 each  per  week ;  issue  50,000  Bibles  every 
 day  at  1*.  Gd.  each,  and  100,000  tracts 
 every  day  at  45.  per  hundred ;  and  present 
 to  192,815  poor  families  £10  each  on 
 Christmas  Day ;  or  it  would,  in  one  teae, 
 supply  each  human  being  on  the  globe 
 with  a  Bible;  or  it  would,  in  one  year, 
 provide  200  hospitals  at  £20,000  each; 
 12,000  churches  and  chapels  at  £2000 
 each ;  10,000  schools  at  £600  each ;  2000 
 mechanics'  institutions  and  lecture  halls 
 at  £2000  each  ;  25,000  almhouses  at  £200 
 each  ;  1000  baths  at  £2000  each ;  2000  H- 
 braries  at  £500  each  ;  200  public  parks  at 
 £5000  each;  give  400,000  poor  families 
 £10  each ;  and  present  a  new  Bible  to 
 each  man,  woman,  and  child  in  Great 
 Britain.  So  that  the  money  spent  in  Great 
 Britain  alone,  for  strong  drink,  would,  as 
 far  as  outward  ministry  is  concerned,  evan- 
 gelise the  world — besides  providing  largely 
 for  temporal  distress.  Newman  Hall, 
 
 AMBITION— Ascent  of. 
 
 Lowliness  is  young  Ambition's  ladder 
 
 Whereto   the   climber   upward  turns   his 
 
 face ; 
 But  when  he  once  obtains  the  utmost  round. 
 He  then  unto  the  ladder  turns  his  back. 
 Looks   in   the   clouds,  scorning   the   bare 
 
 degrees 
 By  which  he  did  ascend.  Shakespeare. 
 
 AMBITION— without  Bounds. 
 
 Ambition  is  a  devouring  fire,  who  can 
 poise  it  ?  It  is  a  wind,  who  can  fathom  it  ? 
 It  is  an  abyss,  who  is  able  to  recount  the 
 sources  and  issues  thereof?  A  wise  man 
 saith  very  well,  that  the  middle  of  the  earth 
 hath  been  found,  the  depth  of  the  sea  hath 
 been   found,   the   height  of  the  Hiphean 
 
AMBITION. 
 
 21 
 
 hills  hath  been  measured,  the  remotest 
 limits  of  the  hollow  caverns  of  Caucasus 
 have  been  discoTered;  the  head-spring;  of 
 Nilus  hath  not  escaped  :  only  in  the  heart 
 of  man  we  cannot  tind  the  bounds  of  the 
 desire  of  ruling,  N.  Caussin. 
 
 AMBITION— Danger  of. 
 
 Ambition  is  like  choler,  which  is  ahumour 
 that  maketh  men  active,  earnest,  full  of 
 alacrity,  and  stirring,  if  it  be  not  stopped. 
 But  if  it  be  stopped,  and  cannot  have  its 
 way,  it  becometh  a  dust,  and  thereby  malign 
 and  venomous.  So  ambitious  men,  if  they 
 find  the  way  open  for  their  rising,  and  still 
 get  forward,  they  are  rather  busy  than 
 dangerous ;  but  if  they  be  checked  in  their 
 desires,  they  become  secretly  discontent, 
 and  look  upon  men  and  manners  with  an 
 evil  eye,  and  are  best  pleased  when  things 
 go  backward.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 AMBITION— Deceitfalness  of. 
 
 Ambition  is  a  gilded  misery,  a  secret 
 poison,  a  hidden  plague,  the  engineer  of 
 deceit,  the  mother  of  hypocrisy,  the  pa- 
 rent of  envy,  the  original  of  vices,  the 
 moth  of  holiness,  the  blinder  of  hearts, 
 turning  medicines  into  maladies,  and  reme- 
 dies into  diseases.  High  seats  are  never 
 but  uneasy,  and  crowns  are  always  stuffed 
 with  thorns.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 AMBITION— Definition  of. 
 Ambition  !  the  desire  of  active  souls 
 That  pushes  them  beyond  the  bounds  of 
 
 nature. 
 And  elevates  the  hero  to  the  gods ; 
 That   can  inform  the  souls   of  beardless 
 
 boys. 
 And  ripen  'em  to  men  in  spite  of  nature. 
 N.  Rowe. 
 
 Ambition's  like  a  circle  on  the  water 
 Whicli  never  ceases  to  enlarge  itself. 
 Till   by   broad   spreading  it  disperses   to 
 nought.  Shakespeare. 
 
 AMBITION— Destructive. 
 
 Ambition  destroys  the  pleasures  of  the 
 present  in  ardent  aspirations  after  an  ima- 
 ginative future.  Br.  Thomas. 
 
 AMBITION— Discontent  of. 
 
 Ambition  is  tornuent  enough  for  an 
 enemy  ;  for  it  affords  as  much  discontent- 
 ment in  enjoying  as  in  want,  making  men 
 like  poisoned  rats,  which,  when  they  have 
 tasted  of  their  bane,  cannot  rest  till  they 
 drink,  and  then  can  much  less  rest  till  they 
 die.  Bp.  Bail. 
 
 I  dare  say  Alexander  the  Great  was 
 somewhat  staggered  in  his  plans  of  con- 
 quest by  Parmenio's  way  of  putting  things. 
 "After  you  have  conquered  Persia,  what 
 
 will  you  do?"  "Then  I  shall  conquer 
 India."  "  After  you  have  conquend  India, 
 what  will  you  do  ?"  "  Conquer  Scythia." 
 "And  after  you  have  conquered  Scythia, 
 what  will  you  do  ?"  "  Sit  down  and  rest." 
 "  Well,"  said  Parmenio  to  the  conqueror, 
 "  why  not  sit  down  and  rest  now  ?" 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 
 AMBITION— End  of  Worldly. 
 
 Look  to  the  end  of  worldly  ambition, 
 and  what  is  it  ?  Take  the  four  greatest 
 rulers,  perhaps,  that  ever  sat  upon  a  throne. 
 Alexander,  when  he  had  so  completely 
 subdued  the  nations  that  he  wept  because 
 there  were  no  more  to  conquer,  at  last  set 
 tire  to  a  city  and  died  in  a  sense  of  debauch. 
 Hannibal,  who  filled  three  bushels  with  the 
 gold  rings  taken  from  the  slaughtered 
 knights,  died  at  last  by  poison  adminis- 
 tered by  his  own  hand,  unwept,  and  un- 
 known, in  a  foreign  land.  Ccesar,  having 
 conquered  800  cities,  and  dyed  his  gar- 
 ments with  the  blood  of  one  million  of  his 
 foes,  was  stabbed  by  his  best  friends,  in  the 
 very  place  which  had  been  the  scene  of  his 
 greatest  triumjni.  Napoleon,  after  being 
 the  scourge  of  Europe,  and  the  desolater  of 
 his  country,  died  in  banishment,  conquered 
 and  a  captive.  So  truly  "  the  expectation 
 of  the  wicked  shall  be  cut  off." 
 
 O.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 The  builders  of  Babel  were  confounded 
 in  their  speech,  scattered  abroad  in  the 
 earth,  and  their  work  left  as  a  monument 
 of  their  folly.  Abimelech  was  killed  with 
 a  millstone  cast  upon  his  head  by  a  woman. 
 Absalom  was  hanged  by  the  hair  of  his 
 head  in  the  wood,  while  seeking  the  throne 
 from  his  father.  Haman  was  hanged  on  a 
 gallows  which  he  had  prepared  for  Mor- 
 decai.  Nebuchadnezzar  was  thrust  ii-om  his 
 throne  and  his  palace  into  the  condition  of 
 a  beast  in  the  wilderness.  Semiramis  was 
 slain  in  a  brutish  passion  by  the  hand  of 
 her  own  son.  Caesar  was  gored  with  many 
 stabs  of  daggers  in  the  senate-house. 
 Pompey,  after  he  had  caused  golden  moun- 
 tains to  be  carried  in  tiiumph,  finding  no 
 more  land  to  conquer,  he  having  gained  so 
 much,  wanted  five  or  six  feet  of  ground  to 
 make  him  a  sepulchre.  Another,  who  had 
 taken  for  ensign  a  world,  with  the  helm  of 
 a  ship,  and  his  motto,  Hoc  opus,  showing 
 that  his  ambitions  transported  him  not  to 
 any  lower  pitch  than  the  world's  conquest, 
 found  himself  to  be  in  a  worst  state  than  if 
 he  had  been  a  swablier  in  a  ship.  Mac- 
 rinus,  a  hunter,  a  fencer,  a  scrivener,  be- 
 came an  orator,  then  a  fiscal,  next  pretoi 
 of  the  palace,  then  emperor,  and  lastly  was 
 massacred  by  his  son  Diaduinenus.  Ab- 
 lavius,  most  powerful  under  Constantine, 
 was  torn  in  pieces  under  Constantius,  as  a 
 victim.  JS-  Caussin. 
 
22 
 
 AMBITION— AMBITIOUS  MAN. 
 
 AMBITION— End  of  Worldly. 
 
 The  shadow,  wheresoever  it  passes,  leaves 
 no  track  behind  it ;  and  of  the  greatest 
 personages  of  the  world,  when  they  are 
 once  dead,  then  there  remains  no  more 
 than  if  they  had  never  lived.  How  many 
 preceding  emperors  of  the  Assyrian  mon- 
 archy were  lords  of  the  world  as  well  as 
 Alexander !  and  now  we  remain  not  only 
 ignorant  of  their  monuments,  but  know 
 not  so  much  as  their  names.  And  of  the 
 same  great  Alexander,  what  have  we  at 
 this  day,  except  the  vain  noise  of  his  fame? 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 AMBITION— Examples  of. 
 
 Adam  and  Mve  (Gen.  iii,  5,  6) ;  Builders 
 of  Bahel  (Gen.  xi,  4)  ;  Miriam  and  Aaron 
 (Num.  xii,  2) ;  Korah,  Sfc.  (Num.  xvi, 
 3) ;  Absalom  (2  Sam.  xv,  4 ;  xviii,  18) ; 
 Adonijah  (1  Kings  i,  5)  ;  Sennacherib 
 (2  Kings  xix,  23) ;  Shebna  (Isa.  xxii,  16) ; 
 Sons  of  Zebedee  (Matt,  xx,  21) ;  Antichrist 
 (2  Thes.  ii,  4) ;  Biotrephes  (3  John  5). 
 
 Anon,. 
 AMBITION— True. 
 The  true  ambition  there  alone  resides 
 Where    justice    vindicates,    and    wisdom 
 
 guides; 
 Where  inward  dignity  joins  outward  state. 
 Our   purpose   good,  as   our  achievements 
 
 great;  _ 
 Where  public  blessings,  public  praise^  at- 
 tend. 
 Where  glory  is  our  motive,  not  our  end ; 
 Wouldst  thou  be  famed  ?   have  those  high 
 
 acts  in  view 
 Brave    men    would    act,    though    scandal 
 would  ensue.  Young. 
 
 AMBITION— Unreasonableness  of. 
 
 There  is  no  greater  unreasonableness  in 
 the  world  than  in  the  designs  of  ambition ; 
 for  it  makes  the  present  certainly  miserable, 
 unsatisfied,  troublesome,  and  discontented, 
 fur  the  uncertain  acquisition  of  an  honour, 
 which  nothing  can  secure;  and  besides  a 
 thousand  possibilities  of  miscarrying,  it 
 relies  upon  no  greater  certainty  than  our 
 life  ;  and  when  we  are  dead,  all  the  world 
 sees  who  was  the  fool.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 AMBITIOUS  MAN— Emblem  of  the 
 
 The  serpent,  though  creeping  in  the  dust, 
 hath  a  lofty  spirit,  reaching  not  only  to 
 men,  but  even  at  the  birds  of  the  air.  And 
 here  is  the  ambitious  man's  emblem.  He 
 was  bred  out  of  the  dust,  yet  he  catcheth 
 at  lordships  and  honours  ;  ransacks  the 
 city,  forages  the  country,  scours  it  through 
 tlie  Church  ;  but  his  errand  is  to  the  court. 
 He  is  the  maggot  of  pride,  begot  out  of 
 corruption  ;  and  looks  in  an  office  as  the 
 ape  did  when  he  had  got  on  the  robes  of  a 
 senator.  T.  Adams. 
 
 AMBITIOUS  MAN— Inconstancy  of  the. 
 
 His  life  is  composed  of  leaps,  bounds, 
 and  skips.  He  is  the  very  reed,  the  very 
 shuttle-cock  of  inconstancy.  He  is  a 
 mere  wind-blown  balloon,  which  is  tossed 
 this  way  and  that  way,  sometime  with  the 
 foot,  sometime  with  the  hand.  He  is  en- 
 forced upon  all  occasions  to  hear  the  fool's 
 babble ;  and  having  drunk  so  long  and  deep 
 draughts  of  the  water  of  forget  fulness,  he 
 cannot  awake  himself  from  his  drunkenness 
 until  death  come  to  close  up  his  eyes. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 AMBITIOUS  MAN— Madness  of  the. 
 
 While  he  beholds  the  stars,  with  Thales, 
 he  forgets  the  ditch ;  and  yawning  so  wide 
 for  preferment,  contempt  is  easily  thrown 
 into  his  mouth.  I  have  read  of  Menecrates, 
 a  physician,  that  would  needs  be  counted  a 
 god,  and  took  no  other  fee  of  his  patients 
 but  their  vow  to  worship  him.  Uionysius 
 Syracusanus,  hearing  of  this,  invited  him 
 to  a  banquet ;  and  to  honour  him  according 
 to  his  desire,  set  before  him  nothing  but  a 
 censer  of  frankincense ;  with  the  smoke 
 whereof  he  was  feasted  till  he  starved, 
 while  others  fed  on  good  meat.  This 
 showed  the  great  naturalist  a  natural  fool, 
 a  madman.  Sapor,  a  Persian  king,  wrote 
 himself.  King  of  kings,  Brother  to  the  Sun 
 and  Moon,  and  Partner  with  the  Stars. 
 Yet,  alas  !  he  was  a  man  ;  therefore  a  mad- 
 man in  the  arrogation  of  his  style. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 Eusebius  reports  of  Simon  Magus,  that 
 he  would  be  honoured  as  a  god,  and  had  an 
 altar  with  this  inscription,  "  To  Simon,  the 
 holy  god :"  which  it  seemed  his  harlot 
 Helena  did  instigate.  But  when,  by  the 
 power  of  the  devil,  he  presumed  to  riy  up 
 to  heaven,  at  the  command  of  St.  Peter, 
 the  unclean  spirit  broke  his  neck.  He 
 climbed  high,  but  he  came  down  with  a 
 vengeance.  His  miserable  end  showed  him 
 an  ambitious  man,  a  madman.     T.  Adams. 
 
 AMBITIOUS  MAN— Restlessness  of  the. 
 
 Where  is  it  that  the  ambitious  man  can 
 find  place  of  stability  and  centre  of  repose  ? 
 If  he  be  in  quest  of  honour  (and  when  is 
 he  not  ?),  behold  him  in  a  whirlpool,  in 
 fire ;  behold  him  in  the  feverish  excesses  of 
 heat  and  cold,  whiclf  afford  him  no  inter- 
 mission. Admit  he  obtain  what  he  pre- 
 tendeth  unto,  no  sooner  is  he  engaged  in 
 one  way,  but  his  feet  itch  to  transfer  him 
 to  another.  If  he  be  but  upon  terms  of 
 repulse,  behold  him  drenched  in  desperate 
 and  furious  envy,  which  maketh  him  die  as 
 many  deaths  as  there  are  others  more 
 happy  than  himself.  Verily  the  wheel  of 
 Ixion  is  a  silly  fable  in  comparison  of  the 
 tortures  of  the  ambitious.  N.  Caussin. 
 
AMEN— AMIABILITY. 
 
 23 
 
 AMEN— Chinese. 
 
 The  Chinese  have  no  word  which  will 
 compare  with  our  English  word  "Amen  ;" 
 they  say,  instead,  Sin  yenen  cliing  sing, 
 "  The  heart  wishes  exactly  so." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 AMEN — Manner  of  saying. 
 
 The  Rabbins  say,  that  our  Am^n  in  the 
 close  of  our  prayers  must  not  be  said,  first, 
 hasty,  but  with  consideration,  1  Cor.  xiv, 
 16.  Secondly,  nor  maimed,  or  defective ; 
 we  must  stretch  out  our  hearts  after  it, 
 and  be  swallowed  up  in  God ;  thirdly,  nor 
 alone,  or  an  orphan,  that  is,  without  feith, 
 love,  and  holy  confidence.         John  Trapp. 
 
 AMEN— Meaning  of. 
 
 When  it  is  prefixed  before,  it  \s^  asser- 
 tory ;  as  in  the  Evangelists,  "Verily,  verily, 
 I  say  unto  thee,"  that  is,  Amen,  amen,  I 
 say  unto  thee ;  which  is  a  vehement  asser- 
 tion of  the  truth  and  necessity  of  what  he 
 speaks. 
 
 When  it  is  subjoined  and  used  at  the 
 end  of  a  speech  or  prayer,  it  is  precatory, 
 and  signifies  our  earnest  desire  to  have  our 
 prayers  heard  and  our  petitions  granted ; 
 as,  "  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel 
 from  everlasting  to  everlasting;  Amen  and 
 Amen,"  kc. 
 
 In  the  former  sense  it  signifies  so  it  is ; 
 in  the  latter,  so  be  it.  Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 AMEN— Teachings  of. 
 
 It  teaches  us  to  put  up  all  our  prayers 
 with  understanding.  For  when  we  use 
 vain  and  insignificant  babbling,  how  can 
 we  seal  and  close  them  up  with  a  hearty 
 Amen  ?  When  we  pray  without  under- 
 standing, and  say  Amen,  it  is  like  setting 
 a  seal  to  an  instrument  when  we  know 
 not  what  it  contains,  and  is  expressly  con- 
 demned by  the  apostles  (1  Cor.  xiv,  16). 
 
 It  teacheth  us  to  present  all  our  requests 
 to  the  throne  of  grace,  with  fervent  zeal 
 and  affection.  Amen  is  a  wing  to  our 
 prayers ;  it  is  the  bow  that  shoots  them  up 
 to  heaven. 
 
 Whether  we  pray  ourselves,  or  join  in 
 prayers  with  others  and  make  their  peti- 
 tions ours,  we  ought  to  attest  our  under- 
 standing of,  our  assent  unto,  and  our 
 earnest  desires  after,  the  mercies  that  are 
 begged  by  sealing  up  the  prayers  with  an 
 Amen.  Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 AMEN — Ancient  Use  of. 
 
 St.  Jerome  tells  us,  it  was  the  custom  in 
 his  days  to  close  up  every  prayer  with 
 such  an  unanimous  consent,  that  their 
 Amens  rung  and  echoed  in  the  church, 
 and  sounded  like  the  fall  of  waters  or  the 
 noise  of  thunder.  Bp.  Hopkins, 
 
 AMEN— Importance  of  the  Public  Use  of. 
 
 It  would  be  a  very  beseeming  thing  if 
 Amens  were  audible  and  sounding ;  unless 
 we  are  ashamed  to  be  thought  to  pray 
 when  others  pray,  and  to  make  use  of 
 others'  expressions  to  present  our  petitions. 
 When  we  come  to  the  public  worship,  we 
 are  not  to  look  upon  the  minister  only  as 
 praying  for  the  people;  but  he  is  the 
 people's  mouth  unto  God ;  and  it  is,  or 
 ought  to  be,  the  prayer  of  the  whole  con- 
 gregation: which  he  presents.  They  pray 
 with  him  and  by  him  ;  and  every  petition 
 that  he  makes  to  God  ought  to  be  ratified 
 with  an  Amen  sent  from  our  very  hearts  ; 
 which,  if  we  sincerely  and  afi'ectionately 
 perform,  we  have  abundant  assurance  that 
 what  is  confirmed  by  so  many  suff'rages  on 
 earth,  shall  likewise  be  confirmed  by  our 
 Father  which  is  in  heaven.  And  how 
 beautiful,  how  becoming,  would  this  be, 
 when  the  whole  congregation  shall  thus 
 conspire  together  in  their  request. 
 
 Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 AMIABILITY— in  Religion. 
 
 We  have  sometimes  seen  a  form  of  dis- 
 tinguished personal  beauty  disfigured  by  a 
 want  of  cleanliness  and  slovenly  attire. 
 The  exquisite  symmetry  could  not  be  al- 
 together concealed ;  but  how  much  more 
 attractive  would  it  have  appeared  with 
 other  and  more  suitable  accompaniments  ! 
 So  it  is  with  character ;  there  may  be  real 
 beauty  of  holiness,  but  in  sad  and  slovenly 
 attire  of  temper.  Changing  the  illustra- 
 tion, I  may  observe  the  brilliancy  of  the 
 most  valuable  diamond  may  be  hidden  by 
 earthly  incrustations,  the  lustre  of  gold 
 may  be  dimmed  for  want  of  polish,  and 
 the  most  majestic  portrait  be  half  covered 
 with  dust  or  mildew.  So  religion,  which 
 is  more  precious  than  rubies,  more  valu- 
 able than  gold,  and  the  very  image  of  God 
 in  the  soul  of  man,  may  have  its  worth 
 and  its  excellence  depreciated  by  infirmities 
 of  temper,  and  a  want  of  amiable  deport- 
 ment. Religious  young  men,  be  amiable 
 as  well  as  pious  ;  not  only  your  happiness, 
 but  your  usefulness,  requires  it.  You  know 
 that  vice  has  not  unfrequently  its  attrac- 
 tions in  the  amiabilities  with  which  it  is 
 associated,  and  that  some  are  reconciled  to 
 it  on  this  ground.  It  is  equally  true  that 
 religion  may  have  its  repulsions,  and  that 
 some  may  be  driven  from  it  by  these  partial 
 defi)rmities.  Be  it,  then,  your  desire,  your 
 endeavour,  your  prayer,  to  unite  the  holy 
 and  the  amiable  ;  let  the  diamimd  with  its 
 flashing  hues  be  thus  seen  in  its  most 
 tasteful  setting — the  gold  in  its  brightest 
 polish,  and  the  picture  exhibiting  the 
 freshest  colours,  and  surrounded  by  the 
 richest  frame.  J.  A.  James. 
 
AMUSEMENTS— ANGELS. 
 
 AMUSEMEITTS. 
 
 They  are  to  relitrion  like  breezes  of  air 
 to  the  flame — gentle  ones  will  fan  it,  but 
 strong  ones  will  put  it  out.      Br.  Thomas. 
 
 "  He  that  is  not  satisfied,"  says  Bishop 
 Wilson,  "that  plays  are  an  unlawful  di- 
 version, let  him,  if  he  dare,  offer  up  this 
 prayer  to  God  before  he  goes  :  '  Lord,  lead 
 me  not  into  temptation,  and  bless  me  in 
 what  I  am  now  to  be  employed  in.'  " 
 There  are  many  other  occupations  and 
 nnusements  in  which  the  same  advice  is 
 worth  attending  to.  J.  Whitecross. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS— Innocent. 
 
 Innocent  amusements  are  such  as  excite 
 moderately,  and  such  as  produce  a  cheerful 
 frame  of  mind,  not  boisterous  mirth  ;  such 
 as  refresh,  instead  of  exhausting,  the  sys- 
 tem ;  such  as  recur  frequently,  rather  than 
 continue  long ;  such  as  send  us  back  to  our 
 daily  duties  invigorated  in  body  and  spirit; 
 such  as  we  can  partake  of  in  the  presence 
 and  society  of  respectable  friends ;  such  as 
 consist  with  and  are  favorable  to  a  grate- 
 ful piety;  such  as  are  chastened  by  self- 
 respect,  and  are  accompanied  with  the  con- 
 sciousness that  life  has  a  higher  end  than 
 to  be  amused.  Dt'.  Channing. 
 
 ANGEL— Meaning  of  Term. 
 
 Both  the  Hebrew  and  the  Greek  words 
 signify  messenger.  But  in  the  Scriptures 
 a  prophetic  dream  is  called  an  angel  (al- 
 though occasionally  we  find  that  real 
 manifest  angels,  that  is,  spirits  in  a  partly 
 human  form,  appeared).  The  pillar  of  fire 
 that  went  before  the  Israelites  is  called 
 God's  angel.  The  winds  and  flames  of  fire 
 are  angels  to  us  when  used  by  God  to 
 teach  us,  or  as  rods  to  punish  us.  The 
 angel  of  a  nation  denotes  its  king  or  ruler. 
 The  angels  of  the  churches  were  no  other 
 than  the  ecclesiastical  ministers  set  over 
 them — whether  bishops,  priests,  or  elders. 
 It  is  to  be  understood  that  the  admoni- 
 tions addressed  to  the  angels  of  the  seven 
 churches  applied  to  the  members  of  those 
 churches,  rather  than,  if  at  all,  to  the 
 ministers.  Anon. 
 
 ANGELS— Creation  of. 
 
 It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  angels 
 were  created  at  the  same  time  with  the 
 visible  universe,  and  that  they  are  con- 
 sidered as  comprehended  under  the  general 
 name  heavens.  That  the  angels  were 
 ci-eated  at  some  particular  period,  we  learn 
 from  the  testimony  of  Num.  xvi,  22,  and 
 xxvii,  16,  "God  of  the  spirits."  (Heb.  i, 
 7;  Col.  i,  16):  "By  Him  were  all  things 
 created  .  .  .  visible  and  invisible,  whether 
 they  be  thrones,"  &c.  But  that  they  were 
 created  on  the  first,  or  on  any  one  of  the 
 
 six  days,  seem  to  be  asserted  (like  most 
 received  opinions)  with  more  confidence 
 than  reason,  chiefly  on  the  authority  of  the 
 repetition  inGen.ii,  1: — "Thus  the  heavens 
 and  the  earth  were  finished,  and  all  the 
 host  of  them  " — unless  we  are  to  suppose 
 that  more  was  meant  to  be  implied  in  the 
 concluding  summary  than  in  the  previous 
 narration  itself,  and  that  the  angels  are  to 
 be  considered  as  the  host  who  inhabit  the 
 visible  heav'us.  For  when  it  is  said  (Job 
 xxxviii,  7)  that  they  shouted  for  joy  before 
 God  at  the  creation,  it  proves  rather  that 
 they  were  then  already  in  existence,  than 
 that  they  were  then  first  created.  Many, 
 at  least,  of  the  Gi'eek,  and  some  of  the 
 Latin  fathers,  are  of  opinion  that  angels, 
 as  being  spirits,  must  have  existed  long 
 before  the  material  world;  and  it  seems 
 even  probable  that  the  apostacy,  which 
 caused  even  the  expulsion  of  so  many 
 thousands  from  heaven,  took  place  before 
 the  foundations  of  this  world  were  lakl. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— in  Death. 
 
 It  has  been  too  often  said  to  have  been 
 always  said  without  truth,  that  angel  forms 
 were  standing  round  the  bed,  waiting  to 
 attend  the  spirit  in  its  last  flight.  Of 
 course  we  can  never  feel  sure,  when  some- 
 thing of  this  kind  is  affirmed  by  a  dying 
 Christian — we  can  never  feel  sure  that  there 
 is  anything  more  than  a  sort  of  delirious 
 vision,  or  that  the  words  may  be  taken  as 
 aught  else  than  an  indication  "of  wandering 
 of  mind  as  spirit  struggles  free  from  flesh. 
 But  neither  would  we  ever  venture  to  be 
 sure  that  the  matter  of  fact  is  not  precisely 
 as  dying  men  state,  and  that  radiant  forms, 
 not  the  figments  of  delirium,  but  the  real 
 embodyings  of  ministering  angels,  are  ac- 
 tually crowding  the  chamber,  though  there 
 may  be  only  one  privileged  eye  to  which 
 they  are  visible.  This  we  can  feel,  that  if 
 indeed,  it  be  true  that  there  is  thus  a  mani- 
 festation to  the  senses  at  the  vei'y  moment 
 when  a  man  has  the  greatest  need  of  com- 
 fort and  succour,  God  mightily  consults  for 
 the  wants  of  our  nature,  and  suits  His 
 dealings  to  our  constitution.  The  angels, 
 acting  merely  as  spirit  upon  spirit,  may 
 possibly  so  strengthen  man  passing  through 
 the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  as  though 
 they  clothed  themselves  in  glorious  ibrms 
 to  advance  visibly  before  the  sufferer  as  a 
 guardian  and  a  guide.  II.  Melvill. 
 
 ANGELS— Description  of. 
 
 Six  wings  he  wore,  to  shade 
 His  lineaments  divine ;  the  pair  that  clad 
 Each  shoulder  broad  came  mantling  o'er 
 
 his  breast 
 With  regal  ornament ;  the  middle  pair 
 Girt,    like   a   starry  zone,   his   waist,  and 
 1      round 
 
ANGELS. 
 
 Skirted  his  loms  and  thighs  with  downy 
 
 o-old 
 
 And  colours  dipp'd  in  heaven;    the  third 
 
 his  feet 
 Shadow'd  from  either  heel  with  feather'd 
 
 mail. 
 Sky-tinctured  grain.  Hilton. 
 
 ANGELS— Guardianship  of. 
 
 Wo  may  suppose  a  troop  of  heavenly 
 beings  entrusted  witli  the  guardianship  of 
 one  of  God"s  jieopie,  and  v/hen  this  in- 
 dividual is  in  cirrunistanees  of  danger,  or 
 l^erplexity,  or  sorrow,  we  may  believe  that 
 tliese  attendant  spirits  do  much  towards 
 removing  obstacles  from  his  path,  directing 
 him  as  to  the  best  course  to  take,  or  sug- 
 gesting material  of  comfort  and  of  hope. 
 We  are  not  able  to  measure,  and  far  less,  as 
 we  suppose,  to  overrate  the  amount  of 
 benefit  which  results  to  Christians  from 
 these  spiritual  ministrations.  But  who  will 
 not  allow  that  if,  as  it  was  with  the  pro- 
 phet's servant,  the  eyes  were  opened  to 
 discern  the  chariot  of  tire,  and  the  horses 
 of  lire  mai'shalled  to  our  protection — who 
 V  ill  not  allow  that  we  should  have  a  greater 
 sense  of  security  than  is  ordinarily  conveyed 
 through  an  infusion  of  fresh  vigour  into 
 the  principle  of  faith  ?  S.  Melvill. 
 
 ANGELS  (Joy  of)— at  Christ's  Birth. 
 
 We  think  that  no  sooner  had  the  High 
 Priest  in  the  Christian  Church  entered  on 
 Ills  eartiily  sojourning,  than  the  mystery 
 which  had  for  ages  been  hid  in  the  Eternal 
 Mind,  of  which  only  dim  and  shadowy 
 notices  had  been  vouchsafed  to  any  finite 
 intelligence — this  mystery,  we  say,  broke 
 suddenly  forth  ;  a  v.'ave  of  delightful  an- 
 tiiem  went  out  from  thousand  times  ten 
 thou-and  squadrons ;  with  one  accord  the 
 counfle-;s  niuUitiide  of  spirits  swept  their 
 liarp-strinii's,  and  so  loud  was  the  minstrelsy 
 and  so  wide  the  waving  of  the  chorus,  that 
 the  shepherds  on  Bethlehem's  plains  caught 
 the  echo  of  the  one,  and  the  magi  in  the 
 distant  East  caught  the  reverberation  of 
 the  other.  S.  Mslvill. 
 
 AITGELS- Knowledge  of. 
 
 Nothing  but  omniscience  can  outdo  the 
 knowledge  of  angels ;  a  knowledge  that 
 dives  into  all  the  recesses  of  nature,  and 
 spies  out  all  the  secret  workings  of  second 
 causes  by  a  certain  and  immediate  view ; 
 which  the  quickest  human  intellect  pursues 
 by  tedious  meditation,  dubious  conjectures, 
 sliort  experiments,  and  perhaps  after  all  is 
 forced  to  sit  down  in  ignoi-ance  and  dis- 
 satisfaction. Dr.  South. 
 
 ANGELS — limited  in  Knowledge. 
 
 The  good  angels  do  not  look  into  all  the 
 secret  things  of  God,  as  the  papists  pre- 
 tend; some  things  indeed  they  know  by 
 
 revelation,  and  others  by  means  of  tlie 
 excellent  intelligence  with  which  they  are 
 gifted;  there  is  much,  however,  of  which 
 they  are  ignorant.  An  angel  is  introduced 
 inquiring  (Dan.  viii,  13)  "  how  long  shall 
 be  the  vision  ?"  (xii,  6)  "  how  long  shall  it 
 be  to  the  end  of  these  wonders  ?"  (IMatt. 
 xxiv,  36)  "  of  that  day  knoweth  no  man, 
 no,  not  even  the  angels  in  heaven."  (Eph. 
 iii,  1  ^)  "  to  the  intent  that  now  unto  the 
 principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly  places 
 might  be  known  by  the  Church  the  mani- 
 fold wisdom  of  God."  (Rev.  v,  3)  "no 
 man  in  heaven  was  able  to  open  the  book." 
 "  Which  things  the  angels  desire  to  look 
 into."  MUton 
 
 ANGELS— Ministration  of. 
 How  oft  do  they  their  silver  bowers  leave. 
 To  come  to  succour  us  that  succour  want ! 
 How  oft  do  they  with  golden  pinions  cleave 
 The  flitting  skyes,  like  Hying  pursuivant. 
 Against  fowle  fiendes  to  ayd  us  militant! 
 They  for  us  fight,  they  watch  and  dewly 
 ward. 
 And  their  bright  squadi'ons  round  about 
 us  plant ; 
 And  all  for  love,  and  nothing  for  reward ; 
 O  w^y  should  heavenly  God  to  men  have 
 such  regard !  E.  Sjieiiser, 
 
 In  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  Socrates, 
 there  is  mention  made  of  one  Theodorus,  a 
 martyr  put  to  extreme  torments  by  Julian 
 the  Apostate,  and  dismissed  again  by  him 
 when  he  saw  him  unconquerable.  Rullinus, 
 in  his  history,  saith,  that  he  met  with  this 
 martyr  a  long  time  after  his  trial,  and 
 askecl  him  whether  the  pains  he  felt  were 
 not  insufferable  ?  He  answered,  that  at 
 first  it  was  somewhat  grievous,  but  alter  a 
 while  there  seemed  to  stand  by  him  a 
 young  man  in  white,  who,  with  a  soft  and 
 comfortable  handkerchietj  wiped  off  the 
 sweat  from  his  body  (which,  through  ex- 
 treme anguish,  was  little  less  than  blood) 
 and  bade  him  be  of  good  cheer,  insomuch 
 as  then  it  was  rather  a  punishment  than  a 
 pleasure  to  him  to  be  taken  off  the  rack, 
 sith  when  the  tormentors  had  done  the 
 angel  was  gone.  Thus  it  is  that  the 
 blessed  angels  of  God  have  ministered  from 
 time  to  time  to  His  people,  in  the  days 
 of  their  distress ;  it  may  be  bringing  food 
 to  their  bodies,  as  once  to  Elijah ;  but  cer- 
 tainly comfort  unspeakable  to  their  souls, 
 as  to  Jacob,  Hagar,  Daniel,  Zacharias, 
 Joseph,  Cornelius,  Paul.  &c.,  and  to  our 
 modern  martyrs,  in  their  prisons,  at  the 
 stake,  and  in  the  fire.  They  pity  our 
 human  frailties,  and  secretly  suggest  com- 
 fort, when  we  perceive  it  not;  they  are 
 as  ready  to  help  us  as  the  bad  angels  are 
 to  tempt  us ;  always  they  stand  looking  on 
 the  face  of  God  to  receive  orders,  for  the 
 
ANGELS. 
 
 accomplishment  of  onr  good,  whicli  they 
 no  sooner  have  than  they  readily  despatch, 
 even  with  weariness  of  flight.  Sjiencer. 
 
 Angels  onr  servants  are. 
 
 And  keep  in  all  our  ways ; 
 And  iu  their  watchful  hands  they  bear 
 
 The  sacred  sons  of  grace  : 
 Unto  that  heavenly  bliss 
 
 They  all  our  steps  attend ; 
 And  God  Himself  our  Father  is, 
 
 And  Jesus  is  our  friend.       C.  Wesley. 
 
 We  believe,  upon  the  authority  of  Scrip- 
 ture, that  angels  are  l)eings  who  minister  to 
 the  righteous;  but  the  ministration  is  al- 
 together secret.  There  are  no  outward 
 tokens  by  which  we  can  determine  when  or 
 how  it  is  carried  on.  We  can  only  sup- 
 pose that  many  of  those  suggestions  which 
 seem  whispered  to  our  minds,  we  know  not 
 by  whose  voice — many  of  the  warnings,  ex- 
 hortations, and  consolations,  which  we  are 
 conscious  of  receiving,  we  cannot  tell  when 
 ■ — are  to  be  ascribed  to  kind  and  watchful 
 spirits,  who  cover  us  by  God's  command, 
 observing  our  dangers,  and  studious  to 
 avert  them.  S.  Melvill. 
 
 ANGELS— Objects  of  their  Ministry. 
 
 Their  ministry  relates  especially  to  be- 
 lievers ;  (Heb.  i,  14)  "  are  they  not  all  min- 
 istering spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  for 
 them  who  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation  ?" 
 (Ps.  xxxiv,  7)  "  the  angel  of  Jehovah  en- 
 campeth  round  aliout  them  that  fear  Him." 
 (Ps.  xci,  11)  "  He  shall  give  His  angels 
 charge  over  thee."  (Isa.  Ixiii,  9)  "the 
 angel  of  His  presence  saved  them."  (Matt. 
 xviii,  10)  "  their  angels  do  always  behold 
 the  face  of  My  Father."  (Matt,  xiii,  41) 
 "the  Son  of  Man  shall  send  forth  His 
 angels,  and  they  shall  gather  out  of  His 
 kingdom  all  things  that  offend."  (xxiv) 
 "they  shall  gather  together  His  elect  from 
 the  four  winds."  (Acts  xii,  15)  "it  is 
 his  angel."  (1  Cor.  xi,  13)  "for  this 
 cause  ought  the  woman  to  have  power  on 
 her  head  because  of  the  angels,"  namely,  as 
 some  think  (and  numerous  examples,  in 
 confirmation  of  their  opinion,  are  not  want- 
 ing), those  angels  whose  office  it  was  to 
 be  present  at  the  religious  assemblies  of 
 believers.  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— Ministers  of  Vengeance. 
 
 They  are  sometimes  sent  from  heaven  as 
 messengers  of  the  Divine  vengeance,  to 
 punish  the  sins  of  men.  They  destroy 
 cities  and  nations  (Gen.  xix,  13  ;  2  Sam. 
 xxiv,  16).  (1  Chron.  xxi,  16)  "  David  saw 
 the  angel  of  Jehovah  ....  having  a  drawn 
 sword  in  his  hand  stretched  out  over  Jeru- 
 salem." They  lay  waste  whole  armies  with 
 unexpected  destruction  (2  Kings  xix,  35). 
 Compare  also  other  passages  to  the  same 
 
 effect.  Hence  they  are  frequently  repre- 
 sented as  making  their  appearance  in  the 
 shape  of  an  armed  host.  (Gen.  xxxii,  1,  2) 
 "this  is  God's  host."  (Josh,  v,  15)  "the 
 captain  of  the  host  of  Jehovah."  (2  Kings 
 vi,  17)  "  the  mountain  was  full  of  horses 
 and  chariots  of  fire."  (Ps.  Ixviii,  17)  "the 
 chariots  of  God  are  twenty  thousand." 
 (Luke  ii,  13)  "a  multitude  of  the  heavenly 
 host."  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— Nature  of. 
 
 The  very  names  assigned  to  angels  by 
 their  Creator  convey  to  us  ideas  pre-emi- 
 nently pleasing,  fitted  to  captivate  the 
 heart,  and  exalt  the  imagination ;  ideas 
 which  dispel  gloom,  banish  despondency, 
 enliven  hope,  and  awaken  sincere  and 
 unraingled  joy.  They  are  living  ones ; 
 beings  in  whom  life  is  inherent  and 
 instinctive  ;  who  sprang  up  under  the 
 quickening  influence  of  the  Sun  of  Kight- 
 eousness,  beneath  the  morning  of  everlast- 
 ing day;  who  rose,  expanded,  and  blossomed 
 in  the  uncreated  beam,  on  the  banks  of 
 the  river  of  life,  and  were  nourished  by 
 the  waters  of  immortality.  Tliey  are  spi- 
 rits, winged  with  activity,  and  formed 
 with  power,  which  no  labour  wearies,  and 
 no  duration  impairs  ;  their  faculties  always 
 fresh  and  young,  their  exertions  unceasing 
 and  wonderful,  and  their  destination  noble 
 and  delightful,  without  example  and  with- 
 out end.  They  are  burning  ones,  glowing 
 with  a  pure  and  serene,  with  an  intense 
 and  an  immortal  flame  of  Divine  love ;  re- 
 turning without  ceasing  the  light  and 
 warmth  which  they  have  received  from  the 
 great  central  sun  of  the  universe,  reflect- 
 ing, with  supreme  beauty,  the  image  of 
 that  divine  luminary ;  and  universally 
 glorious,  although  differing  from  each  other 
 in  glory.  Dr.  Bwight. 
 
 Angels  are  spirits  (Matt,  viii,  16).  They 
 are  of  etherial  nature  (1  Kings  xxii,  21; 
 Ps.  civ,  4,  compared  with  Matt,  viii,  31 ; 
 Heb.  i,  7) ;  "as  lightning"  (Luke  x,  18), 
 whence  also  they  are  called  seraphim. 
 Immortal  (Luke  xx,  36),  "neither  can 
 they  die  any  more."  Excellent  in  wisdom 
 (2  Sam.  xiv,  20)  ;  most  powerful  in  strength 
 (Ps.  ciii,  20;  2  Pet.  ii,  11;  2  Kings  xix, 
 35  ;  2  Thess.  i,  7).  Endued  with  the 
 greatest  swiftness,  which  is  figuratively 
 described  by  the  attribute  of  wings  (Ezek. 
 i,  6).  In  number  almost  infinite  (Deut. 
 xxxiii,  2  ;  Job  xxv,  3;  Dan.  vii,  10;  Matt. 
 xxvi,  53 ;  Heb.  xii,  22 ;  Eev.  v,  11,  12). 
 Created  in  perfect  righteousness  and  holi- 
 ness (Luke  ix,  26;  John  viii,  44;  2  Cor. 
 xi,  14,  15),  "angels  of  light.  .  .  .  minis- 
 ters of  righteousness."  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— Prince  of. 
 
 There   appears  to  be  one  who  presides 
 
ANGELS. 
 
 27 
 
 over  the  rest  of  the  good  angels,  to  whom 
 the  name  of  Michael  is  often  given.  (Josh. 
 V,  14)  "  as  captain  of  the  host  of  Jehovah 
 am  I  come."  (Dan.  xi,  11)  "  Michael,  one 
 of  the  chief  princes,  came  to  help  me." 
 (xii,  1)  "  Michael  shall  stand  up,  the  great 
 prince."  (Rev.  xii,  7,  8)  "  Michael  and  his 
 angels  fought  against  the  dragon."  It  is 
 generally  tliought  that  Michael  is  Christ. 
 But  Christ  vanquished  the  devil,  and 
 trampled  him  under  foot  singly ;  Michael, 
 the  leader  of  the  angels,  is  introduced  in 
 the  capacity  of  a  hostile  commander  waging 
 war  with  the  prince  of  the  devils,  the  armies 
 on  both  sides  being  drawn  out  in  battle 
 array,  and  separating  after  a  doubtful  con- 
 flict (Rev.  xii,  7).  St.  Jude  also  says  of 
 the  same  angel,  "when  contending  with 
 the  devil  he  disputed  about  the  body  of 
 Moses,  he  durst  not  bring  against  him  a 
 railing  accusation" — which  would  be  an 
 improper  expression  to  use  with  reference 
 to  Christ,  especially  if  He  be  God.  ( 1  Thess. 
 iv,  16)  "  the  Lord  Himself  shall  descend 
 from  heaven  with  the  voice  of  the  arch- 
 angel." Besides,  it  seems  strange  that  an 
 apostle  of  Christ,  in  revealing  things  till 
 then  so  new  and  unheard  of  concerning  his 
 Master,  should  express  himself  thus  ob- 
 scurely, and  should  even  shadow  the  person 
 of  Christ  under  a  ditierence  of  name. 
 
 31iUon. 
 
 ANGELS— with  the  Sick. 
 
 I    have    seen   angels   by    the    sick    one's 
 pillow — 
 Theirs  was  the  soft  turn  and  the  sound- 
 less tread ; 
 Where  smitten  hearts  were  drooping  like 
 the  willow. 
 They  stood  between  the  living  and  the 
 dead.  Wetherall. 
 
 ANGELS— Superiority  of. 
 
 Compare  a  Solomon,  an  Artistotle,  or  an 
 Archimedes,  to  a  child  that  newly  begins 
 to  speak,  and  they  do  not  more  transcend 
 such  a  one  than  the  angelical  under- 
 standing exceeds  theirs,  even  in  its  most 
 sublime  imi^rovements  and  acquisitions. 
 
 Br.  Suidh. 
 
 ANGELS— Swift  flight  of. 
 
 Down  thither  prone  in  flight, 
 lie  speeds,  and  through  the  vast  ethereal 
 
 sky 
 Sails  between  world  and  world  with  steady 
 
 wings : 
 Now  on  the  polar  winds,  then  quick  with 
 
 fan 
 Winnows  the  buxom  air.  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— Sympathy  of. 
 
 Oh !  there  are  no  tears  in  heaven ;  but 
 when  angels  come  down  to  earth,  it  may 
 
 be  they  can  fall  into  companionship  with 
 human  sadness,  and  even  learn  to  weep  ; 
 and  where  is  the  spectacle  which  shall 
 wring  tears  from  eyes  which  they  were 
 never  meant  to  stain,  if  it  be  not  that  of 
 the  obstinate  rejection  of  the  Gospel  of  re- 
 conciliation, and  of  careless  trifling  with  a 
 thing  so  inestimably  precious  as  the  soul  ? 
 Old  men,  buried  with  your  gold  !  angels 
 weep  over  you.  Young  men,  frittering 
 away  your  days  in  vanities  and  pleasures  ! 
 angels  weep  over  you.  K.  Meloill. 
 
 ANGELS— Titles  and  Distinctions  of. 
 
 They  are  called  sons  of  God  (Job  i,  6, 
 and  xxxviii,  7;  Dan.  iii,  25,  compared 
 with  V,  28),  and  even  gods  (Ps.  viii,  5  ; 
 xcvii,  7).  But  they  are  not  to  be  compared 
 with  God :  (Job  iv,  18)  "  His  angels  He 
 charged  with  folly,"  (v,  15)  "the  heavens 
 are  not  clean  in  His  sight;"  (Isa.  vi,  2) 
 "  with  two  wings  he  covered  his  face." 
 They  are  distinguished  one  from  anothei 
 by  offices  and  degrees  (Matt,  xxv,  41; 
 Rom.  viii,  38 ;  Col.  i,  16  ;  Eph.  i,  21 ;  iii, 
 10  ;  1  Pet.  iii,  22  ;  Rev.  xii.  7).  Cherubim 
 (Gen.  iii,  24);  seraphim  (Isa.  vi,  2),  and 
 by  proper  names  (Dan.  viii,  16,  ix.  21,  x, 
 13;  Luke  i,  19;  Jude  9;  Rev.  xii,  7);  (1 
 Thess.  iv,  16)  "  with  the  voice  of  the 
 archangel;"  (Jos.  v,  14).  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS— Worship  of. 
 
 Angel-powers  the  throne  surround. 
 
 Next  the  saints  in  glory  they ; 
 Lull'd  with  the  transporting  sound. 
 
 They  their  silent  homage  pay  j 
 Prostrate  on  their  face  before 
 
 God  and  His  Messiah  fall ; 
 Then  in  hymns  of  praise  adore, 
 
 Shout  the  Lamb  that  died  for  all. 
 
 C.  Wesley. 
 
 Thee  the  first-born  sons  of  light. 
 
 In  choral  symphonies, 
 Praise  by  day,  day  without  night. 
 
 And  never,  never  cease : 
 Angels  and  archangels,  all 
 
 Praise  the  mystic  Three  in  One; 
 Sing,  and  stop,  and  gaze,  and  fall 
 
 O'erwhelm'd  before  Thy  throne.  Ihid. 
 
 Thee,  while  the  first  archangel  sings, 
 He  hides  his  face  behind  his  wings  ; 
 And  ranks  of  shining  thrones  around 
 Fall  worshipping,  and  spread  the  ground. 
 Dr.  Wiitts. 
 
 ANGELS  (Good  and  Evil)— our  Attendants. 
 Man  hath  two  attendant  angels. 
 
 Ever  waiting  at  his  side. 
 With  him  wheresoe'er  he  wanders, 
 
 Wheresoe'er  his  feet  abide. 
 One  to  warn  him  when  he  darkleth. 
 
 And  rebuke  him  if  he  stray  : 
 
ANGELS. 
 
 One  to  leave  him  to  his  nature, 
 
 And  so  let  him  go  his  way. 
 Two  recording  spirits,  reading 
 
 All  his  life's  minutest  part. 
 Looking  in  his  soul,  and  hstening 
 
 To  the  beatings  of  his  heai-t. 
 Each  with  ])en  of  fire  electric. 
 
 Writes  the  good  or  evil  wrought ; 
 Writes  with  truth  that  adds  not,  errs  not, 
 
 Purpose,  action,  word,  and  thought. 
 
 One,  the  Teacher  and  Reprover, 
 
 Marks  each  heaven-deserving  deed ; 
 Graves  it  with  the  lightning's  vigour; 
 
 Seals  it  with  the  lightning's  speed; 
 For  the  good  that  man  achieveth — 
 
 Good  beyond  an  angel's  doubt — 
 Such  remains  for  aye  and  ever. 
 
 And  cannot  be  blotted  out. 
 
 One  (severe  and  silent  Watcher) 
 
 Noteth  every  crime  and  guile. 
 Writes  it  with  a  holy  duty. 
 
 Seals  it  not,  hut  waits  awhile  ; 
 If  the  evil-doer  cry  not — 
 
 "  God,  forgive  me  !"  ere  he  sleeps. 
 Then  the  sad  stern  spirit  seals  it, 
 
 And  the  gentler  spirit  weeps.  F.  Frince. 
 
 ATJTGEIS  (Evil)— Employment  of. 
 
 They  are  (remember  !  so  far  as  God  per- 
 mits) "  governors  of  the  world."  So  that 
 there  may  be  more  ground  than  we  are  apt 
 to  imagine,  for  that  strange  expression  of 
 Satan  (Matt,  iv,  8,  9),  when  he  showed  our 
 Lord  "  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and 
 the  glory  of  them."  "  All  these  things  will 
 I  give  Thee,  if  Thou  wilt  fall  down  and 
 worship  me."  It  is  a  little  more  particu- 
 larly exjjressed  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  St. 
 Luke:  "The  devil  showed  unto  Him  all 
 the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  moment  of 
 time."  (Such  an  astonishing  measure  of 
 power  is  still  left  in  the  prince  of  darkness  !) 
 "  And  the  devil  said.  All  this  power  will  I 
 give  Thee,  and  the  glory  of  them  ;  for  that 
 is  delivered  unto  me ;  and  to  whomsoever 
 I  will,  I  give  it"  (ver.  5,  6).  They  are  the 
 rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  age  (so  the 
 words  are  literally  translated),  of  the  pre- 
 sent state  of  things,  during  which  the  whole 
 world  lieth  in  the  wicked  one.  He  is  the 
 element  of  the  children  of  men,  only  those 
 who  fear  God  being  excepted.  He  and  his 
 angels,  in  connection  with,  and  in  subordi- 
 nation to  him,  dispose  all  the  ignorance, 
 all  the  error,  all  the  folly,  and  particularly 
 all  the  wickedness  of  men,  in  such  a  manner 
 as  may  hinder  most  tlie  kingdom  of  God, 
 and  advance  most  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 ANGELS  (Evil)— Liberty  and  Work  of. 
 
 They  are  sometimes  j)ermitted  to  wander 
 throughout  the  whole  eartli,  the  air,  and 
 heaven  itself,  to  execute  the  judgments  of 
 
 God.  (.Tob  i,  7)  "  from  going  to  and  fi-o 
 in  the  earth."  (1  Sam.  xvi,  15)  "  the 
 Spirit  of  Jehovah  departed  from  Saul,  and 
 an  evil  spirit  from  Jehovah  troubled  him." 
 (John  xii,  31)  "  the  prince  of  this  world." 
 (2  Cor.  iv,  4)  "the  god  of  this  world." 
 (Matt,  xii,  43)  "  he  walketh  through  dry 
 places."  (Eph.  ii,  2)  "according  to  the 
 prince  of  the  power  of  the  air."  (vi,  12) 
 "  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high 
 places."  They  are  admitted  into  the  pre- 
 sence of  God  (Job  i,  6,  ii,  1).  (  1  Kings 
 xxii,  21)  '"there  came  forth  a  spirit  and 
 stood  before  Jehovah."  (Zech.  iii,  1)  "  he 
 showed  me  Joshua  the  high  priest  standing 
 before  the  angel  of  Jehovah,  and  Satan 
 standing  at  his  right  hand  to  resist  him." 
 (Luke  X,  18)  "  I  beheld  Satan  as  lightning 
 fall  from  heaven."  (Rev.  xii,  12)  "  woe  to 
 the  inhahiters  of  the  earth,  for  the  devil 
 is  come  down  unto  you."  Their  proper 
 place,  however,  is  the  bottomless  pit,  from 
 which  they  cannot  escape  without  permis- 
 sion. See  Luke  viii,  31 ;  Matt,  xii,  43 ; 
 Markv;  Rev.  xx,  2,  3;  Job  i,  12;  Matt. 
 viii,  31. 
 
 So  stretched  out  huge  in  length  the  Arch- 
 
 Fiend  lay, 
 Chain'd    on  the   burning  lake,    nor    ever 
 
 thence 
 Had  ris'n  or  heav'd  his  head,  but  that  the 
 
 will 
 And  high  permission  of  all-ruling  Heav'n 
 Left  him  at  large  to  his  own  dark  designs. 
 Milton. 
 
 God  holds  them  chain'd  in  fetters  of  His 
 
 power ; 
 That.,  without  leave,  one  minute  of  an  hour 
 They  cannot  range.  Du  Bart  as. 
 
 ANGELS  (Evil)— Prince  of. 
 
 The  devils  also  have  their  prince.  (Matt. 
 xii,  24)  "  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the 
 devils."  See  also  Luke  xi,  15.  (Matt,  xxv, 
 41)  "  the  devil  and  his  angels."  (Rev.  xii, 
 
 9)  "  the  great  dragon  was  cast  out 
 
 and  his  angels."  They  retain  likewise 
 their  respective  ranks.  (Col.  ii,  15)  "having 
 spoiled  principalities  and  powers."  (Eph. 
 vi,  12)  "against  principalities,  against 
 powers." 
 
 The    Stvgian  council   tlu:s   dissolv'd,  and 
 
 forth 
 In  order  came  the  grand  infernal  peers; 
 Midst  came  their  mighty  Paramount. 
 
 Their  leader  is  the  author  of  all  wicked- 
 ness, and  the  opponent  of  all  good.  (Job 
 i  and  ii ;  Zech.  iii,  1)  "  Satan."  (John 
 viii,  44)  "  the  father  of  lies."  ^1  Thess.  ii, 
 18)  "  Satan  hindered  us."  (Acts  v,  3) 
 "  Satan  hath  filled  thine  heart."  (Rev.  xx, 
 3,  8)  "  that  he  should  deceive  the  nations 
 no  more."     (Eph.  ii,  2)  "  the  spirit  that 
 
ANGSLS— ANGER. 
 
 29 
 
 now  workctb  in  the  children  of  disobe- 
 dience." Hence  he  has  obtained  many 
 names  corresponding  with  his  actions.  He 
 is  frequently  called  "  Satan,"  that  is,  an 
 enemy  or  adversary  (Job  i,  6 ;  1  Chron. 
 xxi,  1).  "The  great  dragon,  that  old 
 serpent,  the  devil,"  that  is,  the  false  ac- 
 cuser (Rev.  xii,  9).  "  The  accuser  of  the 
 brethren"  (ver.  10).  "The  unclean  spirit" 
 (Matt,  xii,  43).  "The  tempter"  (iv,  3). 
 "  Abaddon,  Apollyou,"  that  is,  the  destroyer 
 (Rev.  ix,  11).  "A  great  red  dragon" 
 (xii,  3).  Milton. 
 
 AA^GELS  (Evil)— Punishment  of. 
 
 The  evil  angels  are  reserved  for  punish- 
 ment. (Matt,  viii,  29j  "  art  thou  come 
 hither  to  torment  us  before  the  time  ?" 
 (2  Pet.  ii,  4)  "God  cast  them  down  to 
 hell,  and  delivered  them  into  chains  of 
 dnrkness,  to  be  reserved  unto  judgment." 
 (Jude  6)  "  He  hath  reserved  them  in  ever- 
 lasting chains  under  darkness  imto  the 
 judgment  of  the  great  day."  (1  Cor.  vi,  3) 
 "  know  ye  not  that  we  shall  judge  angels  ?" 
 (Matt.  XXV,  41)  "  everlasting  fire,  prepared 
 for  the  devil  and  his  angels."  (Rev.  xx, 
 10)  "  they  shall  be  tormented  for  ever  and 
 ever."  Milton. 
 
 ANGELS  OF  THE  HOUSE. 
 
 I  know  a  man.  He  is  not  a  Christian, 
 His  daily  life  is  not  in  accordance  with 
 even  principles  of  morality.  He  has  three 
 beautiful,  well-behaved  children.  The  other 
 day  he  told  me  this  incident  of  one  of  them, 
 his  little  girl,  three  or  four  years  old. 
 
 Said  he — "  Perhaps  some  people  would 
 think  it  sacrilege,  but  I  don't;  but  for 
 some  time  back  I  have  been  in  the  habit 
 of  reading  the  Bible  and  of  having  prayers 
 every  night  before  the  children  go  to  bed. 
 I  have  done  it  because  it  has  a  good  in- 
 fluence on  the  children,  and  because  1  hope 
 it  may  have  a  good  influence  on  myself. 
 Last  night  I  went  to  '  Lodge'  (he  is  a 
 Masnn),  and  did  not  get  home  till  after  11 
 o'clock.  The  children,  of  course,  were  all 
 abed,  and  I  supposed  asleep.  Before  going 
 to  bed  I  knelt  down  by  my  bed  to  pray, 
 and  had  been  there  but  a  moment  when  I 
 heard  Nobie  get  up  from  her  bed  in  the 
 next  room,  and  her  little  feet  came  patter- 
 ing across  the  floor  toward  me.  I  kept 
 perfectly  still,  and  she  came  and  knelt  down 
 beside  me  without  saying  a  word.  I  did 
 not  notice  her,  and  in  a  moment,  speaking 
 just  above  her  breath,  she  said,  'Pa,j}ray 
 'oud.'  I  prayed.  I  kissed  her,  and  she 
 went  back  to  bed;  and  I  tell  you,  G — , 
 I  have  had  nothing  affect  me  so  for  the 
 last  ten  years.  1  have  thought  of  nothing 
 else  all  day  long  but  just  that  little — '  Fa, 
 pray  'oud.' "  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 ANGELS  OF  THE  HOUSE. 
 
 Three  pairs  of  dimpled  arms,  as  white  as 
 snow. 
 
 Held  me  in  soft  embrace ; 
 Three  little  cheeks,  like  velvet  peaches  soft. 
 
 Were  placed  against  my  face. 
 
 Three  pairs  of  tiny  eyes,  so  clear,  so  deep. 
 
 Looked  up  in  mine  this  even  ; 
 Three  pairs  of  lips  kissed  me  a  sweet  "  Good 
 night," 
 
 Three  little  forms  from  heaven. 
 
 Ah !  it  is  well  that  "  little  ones"  should 
 love  us ! 
 It  lights  our  faith  when  dim. 
 To   know  that  once   our  blessed   Saviour 
 bade  them 
 Bring  "  little  ones"  to  Him. 
 
 And  said  He  not,  "  Of  such  is  heaven,"  and 
 blessed  them. 
 And  held  them  to  His  breast  ? 
 Is  it  not  sweet  to  know  that  when  they 
 leave  us, 
 'Tis  then  they  go  to  rest  ? 
 
 And  yet,  ye  tiny  angels  of  my  house. 
 
 Three  hearts  encased  in  mine, 
 How  'twould  be  shatter'd  if  the  Lord  should 
 say, 
 "  Those  angels  are  not  thine !" 
 
 Anon. 
 ANGER— Correction  of. 
 
 Anger  is  like  the  waves  of  a  troubled 
 sea : .  when  it  is  corrected  with  a  soft  reply, 
 as  with  a  little  strand,  it  retires,  and  leaves 
 nothing  behind  but  froth  and  sheik — no 
 permanent  mischief.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 ANGER— Cure  of. 
 
 Had  I  a  careful  and  pleasant  companion, 
 that  should  show  me  my  angry  face  in  a 
 glass,  I  should  not  at  all  take  it  ill.  Some 
 are  wont  to  have  a  looking-glass  held  to 
 them  while  they  wash,  though  to  little 
 purpose ;  but  to  behold  a  man's  self  so  un- 
 naturally disguised  and  disordered,  will 
 conduce  not  a  little  to  the  impeachment  of 
 anger.  Flutarch. 
 
 It  is  an  easy  matter  to  stop  the  fire  that 
 is  kindled  only  in  hair,  wool,  candle-wick, 
 or  a  little  chafl";  but  if  it  once  have  taken 
 hold  of  matter  that  hath  solidity  and 
 thickness,  it  soon  inflames  and  consumes, — 
 "Advanced,  the  highest  timber  of  the  roof;" 
 as  ^schylus  saith;  so  he  that  observes 
 anger  while  it  is  in  its  beginning,  and  sees 
 it  by  degrees  smoking  and  taking  fire  from 
 some  speech  or  chaff-like  scurrility,  he  need 
 take  no  great  pains  to  extinguish  it,  but 
 oftentimes  puts  an  end  to  it,  only  by  silence 
 or  neglect.  For  as  he  that  adds  no  fuel  to 
 fire,  hath  already  as  good  as  put  it  out ;  so 
 he  that  doth  not  feed  anger  at  the  first, 
 
ANGER. 
 
 If,  hath  prevented 
 Flutarch. 
 
 nor  blow  the  fire  in  hi 
 and  destroyed  it. 
 
 ANGER— Deformity  of. 
 
 The  angry  man  is  compared  to  a  ship 
 sent  into  the  sea,  which  hath  the  devil  for 
 its  pilot.  The  anger  of  mortal  man  should 
 be  mortal  like  himself.  But  we  say  of 
 many,  as  Valerius  Maximus  of  Sylla,  it  is 
 a  question,  whether  they  or  their  anger  die 
 first,  or  whether  death  prevents  them  both 
 together.  If  you  look  into  this  troubled 
 sea  of  anger,  and  desire  to  see  the  image  of 
 a  man,  behold,  you  find  fiery  eyes,  a  falter- 
 ing tongue,  gnashing  teeth,  a  heart  boiling 
 in  brine,  and  drying  up  the  moisture  of  the 
 flesh  ;  till  there  be  scarce  any  part  left  of 
 his  right  composition.  T.  Adams. 
 
 ANGER— Eescription  of. 
 
 Anger  sets  the  house  on  fire,  and  all  the 
 spirits  are  busy  upon  trouble,  and  intend 
 propulsion  and  defence,  displeasure  and  re- 
 venge ;  it  is  a  short  madness,  and  an  eternal 
 enemy  to  discourse,  and  sober  counsels,  and 
 fair  conversation ;  it  is  a  fever  in  the  heart, 
 and  a  calenture  in  the  head,  and  a  fire  in 
 the  f^ice,  and  a  sword  in  the  hand,  and  a 
 fury  all  over.  It  hath  in  it  the  trouble  of 
 sorrow,  and  the  heats  of  lust,  and  the 
 disease  of  revenge,  and  the  bodings  of  a 
 fever,  and  the  rashness  of  precipitancy,  and 
 the  disturbance  of  persecution.  If  it  pro- 
 ceed from  a  great  cause,  it  turns  to  fury ; 
 if  from  a  small  cause,  it  is  peevishness ; 
 and  so  it  is  always  terrible  or  ridiculous. 
 It  makes  a  man's  body  deformed  and  con- 
 temptible, the  voice  horrid,  the  eyes  cruel, 
 the  face  pale  or  fiery,  the  gait  fierce.  It  is 
 neither  manly  nor  ingenuous,  and  is  a 
 passion  fitter  for  flies  and  wasps  than  for 
 persons  professing  nobleness  and  bounty. 
 It  is  a  confiuence  of  all  the  irregular  pas- 
 sions. There  is  in  it  envy  and  scorn,  fear 
 and  sorrow,  pride  and  prejudice,  rashness 
 and  inconsideration,  rejoicing  in  evil,  and  a 
 desire  to  inflict  it,  Bp,  Taylor. 
 
 ANGER— FoolisTiness  of. 
 
 To  be  angry,  is  to  revenge  the  fault  of 
 others  upon  ourselves.  Fope. 
 
 To  he  angry  about  trifles  is  mean  and 
 childish  ;  to  rage  and  be  furious  is  brutish ; 
 and  to  maintain  perpetual  wrath  is  akin  to 
 the  practice  and  temper  of  devils ;  but  to 
 prevent  and  suppress  rising  resentment  is 
 wise  and  glorious,  is  manly  and  Divine. 
 
 Br.  Watts. 
 
 ANGER — Intoxication  of. 
 
 The  intoxication  of  anger,  like  that  of 
 the  grape,  shows  us  to  others,  but  hides  us 
 from  ourselves ;  and  we  injure  our  own 
 cause,  in  the  opinion  of  the  world,  when 
 
 we  too  passionately  and  eagerly  defend  it ; 
 like  the  fiither  of  Virginia,  who  murdered 
 his  daughter  to  prevent  her  violation. 
 Neither  will  all  men  be  disposed  to  view 
 our  quarrels  precisely  in  the  same  light  we 
 do ;  and  a  man's  blindness  to  his  own  de- 
 fects will  ever  increase  in  proportion  as  he 
 is  angry  with  others,  or  pleased  with  him- 
 self. C.  Colton. 
 
 ANGER— Examples  of. 
 
 Cain  (Gen.  iv,  5,  6) ;  Usaii  (Gen.  xxvii, 
 45) ;  Simeon  and  Levi  (Gen.  xlix,  5,  7) ; 
 Moses  (Num.  xx,  10,  11);  Balaam 
 (Num.  xxii,  27);  Saul  (1  Sam.  xx,  30); 
 Akab  (1  Kings  xxi,  4) ;  Naaman  (2  Kings 
 V,  11) ;  Asa  (2  Chr.  xvi,  10)  ;  Uzziah  (2 
 Chr.  xxvi,  19)  ;  Raman  (Est.  iii,  5)  ;  jVe- 
 hucliadnezzar  (Dan.  iii,  13);  Jonah  (Jon. 
 iv,  41 ;  Kerod  (Matt,  ii,  16) ;  Jews  (Luke  iv, 
 28) ;  Kigh  Priest  (Acts  v,  17,  vii,  54). 
 
 Anon. 
 ANGER— Self-cm-ed. 
 Anger  is  like 
 A  full  hot  horse,  who,  being  aUow'd  his 
 
 way. 
 Self-mettle  tires  him.  Shalcespeare, 
 
 Those  hearts  that  start  at  once  into  a  blaze. 
 And    open   all  their   rage,    like    summer 
 
 storms 
 At  once  discharg'd,  grow  cool  again  and 
 
 calm.  C.  Johnson. 
 
 'When  anger  rushes  unrestrained  to  action, 
 Like  a  hot  steed  it  stumbles  in  its  way ; 
 The  man  of  thought  strikes  deepest,  and 
 strikes  fastest.  E. 
 
 ANGER— Short  Continuance  of. 
 
 The  English  by  command  of  William 
 the  Conqueror  always  raked  uj)  their  fires 
 and  put  out  their  candles  when  the  curfew 
 bell  was  rung;  some  part  of  which  laudable 
 custom  of  those  times  remaineth  yet,  in  the 
 ringing  of  our  eight  or  nine  o'clock  beU. 
 Let  it  then  mind  us  thus  much,  that  the 
 sun  go  not  down  upon  our  wrath ;  let  it 
 not  carry  news  to  the  antipodes  in  another 
 world  of  our  revengeful  nature,  but  rather 
 quench  all  sparks  of  anger,  rake  up  all  heat 
 of  passion  that  may  arise  within  us. 
 
 Spencer. 
 ANGER— without  Sin. 
 
 One  of  the  late  Dr.  Spencer's  parishioners 
 in  Brooklyn,  New  York,  met  him  hurriedly 
 urging  his  way  down  the  street  one  day ; 
 his  lip  was  set,  and  there  was  something 
 strange  in  that  gray  eye.  "  How  are  you 
 to-day,  doctor  ?"  he  said,  pleasantly.  He 
 waked  as  from  a  dream,  and  replied  soberly, 
 "  I  am  mad !"  It  was  a  new  word  for  a 
 mild,  true-hearted  Christian:  but  he  waited. 
 
ANGER— ANXIETY. 
 
 31 
 
 and  with  a  deep,  earnest  voice  went  on : — 
 "  I  found  a  widow  standing  by  lier  goods 
 thrown  in  the  street;  she  could  not  pay  the 
 month's  rent ;  the  hindlord  turned  her  out ; 
 and  one  of  her  chihlren  is  going  to  die  ; 
 and  that  man  is  a  member  of  the  church ! 
 I  told  her  to  take  her  things  back  again. 
 I  am  on  my  way  to  see  him  \"  Anon. 
 
 ANGER— when  Sinful. 
 
 1.  When  we  are  angry  with  the  provi- 
 dence of  God. 
 
 2.  When  we  are  angry  with  the  laws  of 
 God. 
 
 3.  When  we  are  angry  at  the  doctrines 
 of  the  Gospel. 
 
 4.  When  we  are  angry  at  the  good  we 
 see  in  others. 
 
 5.  When  we  are  angry  with  those  who 
 differ  from  us  in  religious  sentiments. 
 
 6.  When  we  are  angry  at  reproof. 
 
 7.  When  we  wish  evil  upon  our  reprover. 
 
 8.  W^hen    we    use    unlawful    means    to 
 avenge  ourselves,  we  sin  in  anger. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 ANNIHILATION— Dread  of. 
 
 To  be  no    more  :  sad  cure ;  for  who  would 
 
 lo^e, 
 Though     full    of    pain,    this    intellectual 
 
 being, 
 Those     thoughts     that    wander     through 
 
 eternity ; 
 To  perish  rather,  swallow'd  up  and  lost 
 In  the  wide  womb  of  uncreated  night, 
 Devoid  of  sense  and  motion  ?  Milton. 
 
 ANNIHILATION— No. 
 
 We  have  no  reason  to  infer,  from  any- 
 thing we  can  discover  in  creation,  the  utter 
 annihilation  of  anything.  Death  is  but  the 
 prelude  to  new  life,  and  decay  to  re-pro- 
 duction. Destruction  is  but  temporary 
 dissipation — a  preparation  for  re-co?istruc- 
 tion.  Nothing  perishes,  in  the  strictest 
 sense  of  the  term ;  for  <Z/*solution  is  but  the 
 resolution  of  matter  into  its  elements,  as 
 the  materials  for  building  up  some  new 
 form  of  being.  In  the  fullest  sense  of  the 
 term,  matter  itself  appears  to  be  immortal, 
 or  indestructible.  Why,  then,  should  we 
 conceive  that  mind  is  not  ?  W^hy  suppose 
 that  annihilation  should  seize  upon  that 
 which,  by  reason  of  its  essential  unity  and 
 incorporeity,  seems  far  more  capable  of  im- 
 mortality ?  And  mind  must  be  either  im- 
 mortal, or  become  annihilated;  because, 
 though  our  corporeal  frame  can,  and  will, 
 by  dissolution,  become  the  material  of 
 which  another  is  built  up,  such  cannot  be 
 the  case  with  mind,  since  one  person's 
 consciousness  can  never  become  another's  ; 
 nor  can  there  be  any  transmigration  of  the 
 "  sense  of  personality,"  and  the  "memory  or 
 sense  of  the  sequence  of  ovu"  lives." 
 
 T.  Ragg. 
 
 ANTICIPATIONS. 
 
 Men  spend  their  lives  in  anticipations, 
 in  determining  to  be  vastly  happy  at  some 
 period  or  other,  luhen  they  have  time.  But 
 the  present  time  has  one  advantage  over 
 every  other — it  is  our  own.  Past  opportu- 
 nities are  gone,  future  are  to  come.  We 
 may  lay  in  a  stock  of  pleasures  as  we  would 
 lay  in  a  stock  of  wine ;  but  if  we  defer  the 
 tasting  of  them  too  long,  we  shall  find  that 
 both  are  soured  with  age.  Let  our  happi- 
 ness, therefore,  be  a  modest  mansion,  which 
 we  can  inhabit,  while  we  have  our  health 
 and  vigour  to  enjoy  it ;  not  a  fabric  so  vast 
 and  extensive  that  it  has  cost  us  the  best 
 part  of  our  lives  to  build  it,  and  which 
 we  can  expect  to  occupy  only  when  we 
 have  less  occasion  for  a  habitation  than 
 the  tomb.  It  has  been  well  observed,  that 
 we  should  treat  futurity  as  an  aged  friend, 
 from  whom  we  expect  a  rich  legacy.  Let 
 us  do  nothing  to  forfeit  his  esteem,  and 
 treat  him  with  respect,  not  with  servility. 
 But  let  us  not  be  too  prodigal  when  we  are 
 young,  nor  too  parsimonious  when  we  are 
 old,  otherwise  we  shall  fall  into  the  common 
 error  of  those  who,  when  they  had  the 
 power  to  enjoy,  had  not  the  prudence  to 
 acquire  ;  and  when  they  had  the  prudence 
 to  acquire,  had  no  longer  the  power  to  en- 
 joy. C.  Colton. 
 
 ANXIETY,  Evils  of. 
 
 Anxiety  is  the  poison  of  human  life.  It 
 is  the  parent  of  many  sins,  and  of  more 
 miseries.  In  a  world  where  everything  is 
 doubtful,  where  you  may  be  disappointed, 
 and  be  blessed  in  disappointment — what 
 means  this  restless  stir  and  commotion  of 
 mind  ?  Can  your  solicitude  alter  the  cause 
 or  unravel  the  intricacy  of  human  events  ? 
 Can  your  curiosity  pierce  through  the 
 cloud  which  the  Supreme  Being  hath  made 
 impenetrable  to  mortal  eye  ?  To  provide 
 against  every  important  danger,  by  the 
 employment  of  the  most  promising  means, 
 is  the  office  of  wisdom ;  but  at  this  point 
 wisdom  stops.  Br.  Blair. 
 
 ANXIETY— Unavailing. 
 
 After  all  your  careful  "watching  for  the 
 corner  of  the  heaven  where  the  cloud  is  to 
 come  from,  there  will  he  a  cloud,  and  it  will 
 rise  somewhere,  but  you  will  never  know  in 
 what  quarter.  The  morrow  shall  have  its 
 own  anxieties.  After  all  your  fortifying  of 
 the  castle  of  your  life,  there  will  be  some 
 little  postern  left  unguarded,  some  little 
 weak  place  in  the  wall  left  uncommanded 
 by  a  battery ;  and  there,  where  you  never 
 look  for  him  the  inevitalile  invader  wiU 
 come  iu!  After  all  the  plunging  of  the 
 hero  in  the  fabled  waters  that  made  him 
 invulnerable,  there  was  the  little  spot  on 
 the  heel,  and  the  arrow  found  its  way 
 there  !  J.  Maclaren. 
 
APOSTACY— APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION. 
 
 APOSTACY— Definition  of. 
 
 The  canon  law  defines  apostacy  to  he  a 
 wilfni  departure  from  tliat  state  of  faith 
 which  any  person  has  professed  himself  to 
 hold  in  the  Christian  Ctiurch.      J.  Farrar. 
 
 APOSTACY— Various  Kinds  of. 
 
 The  more  ancient  Christians  distin- 
 guished several  kinds  of  apostacy. — 1.  That 
 of  those  who  relapsed  from  Christianity  to 
 Judaism.  2.  That  of  those  who  blended 
 Judaism  and  Christianity  together.  3.  That 
 of  those  who  so  far  complied  with  the  Jews 
 as  to  communicate  with  them  in  many  of 
 their  unlawful  practices,  without  making  a 
 formal  profession  of  their  religion.  4.  That 
 of  tiiose  who,  having  been  Christians,  volun- 
 tarily relapsed  into  Paganism.  The  per- 
 version of  Christian  to  Judaism,  Paganism, 
 or  other  false  religion,  was  punished  by 
 some  emperors  with  confiscation  of  pro- 
 perty; capital  punishment  was  added,  in 
 later  times,  in  case  of  the  apostate's  per- 
 verting others.  Tiie  term  apostate  is  in 
 Cburcii  history  applied  by  wny  of  emphasis 
 to  the  Emperor  Julian,  who,  though  he  had 
 been  nominally  Christian,  when  he  came  to 
 the  throne  renounced  the  Christian  religion, 
 and  used  every  means  in  his  power  to  re- 
 establish Paganism  in  the  empire. 
 
 J.  Farrar. 
 APOSTLE— Meaning  of. 
 
 The  term  is  generally  employed  in  the 
 New  Testament  as  the  descriptive  appella- 
 tion of  a  comparatively  small  class  of  men, 
 to  whom  Jesus  Christ  entrusted  the  organi- 
 sation of  His  Church  and  the  dissemination 
 of  His  religion  among  mankind.   /.  Brown. 
 
 APOSTLES— Characteristics  of. 
 
 It  was  essential  to  their  office — 1.  That 
 they  should  have  seen  the  Lord,  and  been 
 eye  and  ear  witnesses  of  what  they  testified 
 to  the  world.    (John  xv,  27 ;  Acts" i,  21,  22.) 
 
 2.  Tney  must  have  been  immediately  called 
 and  chosen  to  thai  office  by  Christ  Himself. 
 
 3.  Infallible  inspiration  was  also  essentially 
 nGcess;iry  to  that  office.  4.  Another  apos- 
 tolic qualification  was  the  power  of  working 
 miracles.  5.  To  these  characteristics  may 
 be  added  the  universality  of  their  commis- 
 sion. J.  McLean. 
 
 APOSTLES— Death  of  the. 
 
 Matthew  is  supposed  to  have  suffered 
 martyrdom  or  was  slain  with  the  sword  at 
 the  city  of  Ethiopia. 
 
 Mark  was  dragged  through  the  streets 
 of  Alexandria,  in  Egypt,  till  he  expired. 
 
 Luke  was  hanged  on  an  olive  tree  in 
 Greece. 
 
 John  was  put  into  a  cauldron  of  boiling 
 oil  at  Rome,  and  escaped  death.  He  after- 
 wards died  a  natural  death  at  Ephesus,  in 
 Asia. 
 
 James  the  Great  was  beheaded  at  Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 James  the  Less  was  thrown  from  a  pin- 
 nacle or  wing  of  the  Temple,  and  then 
 beaten  to  death  with  a  fuller's  club. 
 
 Philip  was  hanged  up  against  a  pillar,  at 
 Hierapolis,  a  city  of  Phrygia. 
 
 Bartholomew  was  flayed  alive  by  the 
 command  of  a  barbarous  king. 
 
 Andrew  was  bound  to  a  cross,  whence  he 
 preached  to  the  people  till  he  expired. 
 
 Thomas  was  run  through  the  body  with 
 a  lance  at  Coromandel  in  the  East  Indies. 
 
 Jude  was  shot  to  death  with  arrows. 
 
 Simon  Zelotes  was  crucified  in  Persia. 
 
 Matthias  was  first  stoned,  and  then  be- 
 headed. Br.  Raven. 
 
 APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION. 
 
 Apostolical  succession,  as  taught  some- 
 times, means  simply  this — a-  succession  of 
 miraculous  powers  flowing  in  a  certain  Hue. 
 The  true  apostolic  succession  is — not  a  suc- 
 cession in  an  hereditary  line,  or  line  marked 
 by  visible  signs  which  men  can  always 
 identify,  but  a  succession  emphatically 
 spiritual.  The  Jews  looked  for  an  hereditary 
 succession;  they  thought  that,  because 
 they  were  Abraham's  seed,  the  spiritual 
 succession  was  preserved;  the  Redeemer 
 told  them  that  "God  was  able  of  those 
 stones  to  raise  up  children  unto  Abraham." 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION— Impossible. 
 Apostolical  succession  is  no  more  possible 
 as  a  law  for  the  Church  than  an  equivalent 
 theory  would  be  in  the  world  of  art.  Think 
 of  trying  to  institute  in  such  a  way  the 
 right  and  the  gift  of  teaching  beauty ! 
 Think  of  an  hierarchical  pretension  in  the 
 artistic  world,  claiming  that  only  the  stu- 
 dents upon  whom  Raftaelle,  or  Michael 
 Angelo,  or  Murillo,  or  Rubens,  or  Reynolds, 
 or  West,  or  Turner,  or  AUston,  had  laid  his 
 hands,  were  rightfully  consecrated  and 
 equipped  to  paint,  and  to  educate  the  taste 
 of  men  !  By  aU  means  have  studies,  and 
 studios,-  and  thorough  intercourse  with  the 
 masterpieces  of  ages.  But  leave  room  for 
 genius — its  freedom,  its  new  methods,  and 
 its  fire.  And  do  not  try  to  conduct  the 
 potent  and  volatile  essence  of  inspiration, 
 which  flows  only  from  the  laying  on  of 
 God's  hand,  along  the  fixed  methods  of  any 
 confederation.  T.  S.  King. 
 
 APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION— Test  of. 
 
 Though  you  have  a  straight  line  of  apos- 
 tolic successors,  if  your  work  is  poor,  you 
 are  not  in  the  line  of  succession;  and  if 
 your  church  does  not  make  full-grown  men, 
 it  is  not.  I  do  not  care  anything  about  the 
 line  of  succession  of  my  grapes,  if  my  vhie- 
 yard  brings  forth  better  wine  than  your 
 vineyard  does.     You   may  say  that  yours 
 
APPEARANCE. 
 
 came  from  those  that  Noah  planted ;  but 
 they  are  not  so  good  as  mine,  after  all.  For 
 by  their  fruit  ye  shall  know  them.  And  the 
 best  of  all  churches,  as  of  all  orthodoxies, 
 and  all  doctrines,  and  all  usages,  and  all 
 governments,  is  this — What  is  their  efiect 
 upon  the  generations  of  men  ? 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 APPEARANCE— Judging  by. 
 
 Were  men  to  be  guided  by  the  appear- 
 ance of  things  only,  in  forming  their  judg- 
 ment, how  erroneous  and  deceptive  would 
 it  be !  The  sun  would  be  no  more  than 
 a  few  miles  distant  and  a  few  inches  in 
 diameter ;  the  moon  would  be  a  span  wide 
 and  half  a  mile  away ;  the  stars  would  be 
 little  sparks  glistening  in  the  atmosphere  ; 
 the  earth  would  be  a  plain,  bounded  by  the 
 horizon  a  few  miles  from  us ;  the  sun  would 
 travel  and  the  earth  stand  still;  nature 
 would  be  dead  in  winter  and  only  alive  in 
 summer;  men  would  sometimes  be  women 
 and  women  men ;  truth  would  often  be 
 error  and  error  truth ;  honest  men  would 
 be  rogues  and  rogues  honest  men ;  wealth 
 would  be  poverty  and  poverty  wealth; 
 piety  would  be  wickedness  and  wickedness 
 piety.  In  fine,  there  is  scarcely  any  rule 
 so  deceptive  as  the  rule  of  appearance  ;  and 
 there  are  multitudes  who,  in  many  things, 
 have  no  other  rule  by  which  they  form  their 
 judgment.  Hence  the  errors  of  their  speech 
 and  life;  the  ridicule  and  blunders  into 
 which  they  plunge  themselves  before  the 
 world.  John  Bate. 
 
 I  remember  a  pretty  apologue  that  Bro- 
 miard  tells:  A  fowler,  in  a  sharp  frosty 
 morning,  having  taken  many  little  birds 
 for  which  he  had  long  watched,  began  to 
 take  up  his  nets,  and  nipping  the  birds  on 
 the  head,  laid  them  down.  A  young 
 thrush,  espying  the  tears  trickling  down 
 his  cheeks  by  reason  of  the  extreme  cold, 
 said  to  her  mother,  that  certainly  the  man 
 was  very  merciful  and  compassionate,  who 
 wept  so  bitterly  over  the  calamity  of  the 
 poor  birds.  But  her  mother  told  her  more 
 wisely,  that  she  might  better  judge  of  the 
 man's  disposition  by  his  hand  than  by  his 
 eye ;  and  if  the  hands  do  strike  treacher- 
 ously, he  can  never  be  admitted  to  friend- 
 ship, who  speaks  fairly  and  weeps  pitifully. 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 If  appearance  were  the  only  rule  of 
 judging,  what  would  you  say  of  Jesus  in 
 His  humble  birth ;  in  His  lowly  training  ; 
 in  His  fasting  and  temptation ;  in  His 
 servant-form ;  in  His  persecutions  from 
 the  people ;  in  His  poor  disciples ;  in  His 
 bloody  sweat ;  in  His  base  trial ;  His  mock 
 kingship;  His  ascent  up  Calvary;  His 
 crucifixion  with  two  thieves;  His  dying 
 exclamation  ?     What   would    you    say    of 
 
 Christianity  as  the  religion  of  this  Man, 
 and  His  poor  Apostles  ?  But  you  are  not 
 to  judge  Jesus  and  His  religion  by  the 
 appearance,  any  more  than  nature  and 
 man.  Righteousness  is  the  only  legitimate 
 rule  of  judgment :  "  Judge  righteous  judg- 
 ment." John  Bate- 
 
 APPEARANCE — no  Rule  of  Happiness. 
 
 We  are  shallow  judges  of  the  happiness 
 or  misery  of  others,  if  we  estimate  it  by 
 any  marks  that  distinguish  them  from 
 ourselves ;  if,  for  instance,  we  say  that  be- 
 cause they  have  more  money  they  are 
 happier,  or  because  they  live  more  meager- 
 ly,  they  are  more  wretched.  For  men  are 
 allied  by  much  more  than  they  diifer.  The 
 rich  man,  rolling  by  in  his  chariot,  and  the 
 beggar,  shivering  in  his  rags,  are  allied  by 
 much  more  than  they  differ.  It  is  safer, 
 therefore,  to  estimate  our  neighbour's  real 
 condition  by  what  we  find  in  our  own  lot, 
 than  by  what  we  do  not  find  there  .... 
 Surely,  you  will  not  calculate  any  essential 
 difi"erence  from  mere  appearances ;  for  the 
 light  laughter  that  bubbles  on  the  lip  often 
 mantles  over  brackish  depths  of  sadness, 
 and  the  serious  look  may  be  the  sober  veil 
 that  covers  a  Divine  peace.  You  know 
 that  the  bosom  can  ache  beneath  diamond 
 brooches;  and  how  many  blithe  hearts 
 dance  under  coarse  wool !  Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 APPEARANCE— no  Rule  of  Ineciuality. 
 
 You  say  that  the  poor  man  who  passes 
 yonder,  carrying  his  burden,  has  a  hard  lot 
 of  it,  and  it  may  be  he  has;  but  the  rich  man, 
 who  brushes  by  him,  has  a  hard  lot  of  it 
 too — ^just  as  hard  for  him,  just  as  well 
 fitted  to  discipline  him  for  the  great  ends 
 of  life.  He  has  his  money  to  take  care  of; 
 a  pleasant  occupation  you  may  think  ;  but, 
 after  all,  an  occupation  with  all  the  strain 
 and  anxiety  of  labour,  making  more  hard 
 work  for  him  day  and  night,  perhaps,  than 
 his  neighbour  has,  who  digs  ditches.  Or 
 thumps  a  lapstone.  And  it  is  quite  likely 
 he  feels  poorer  than  the  poor  man,  and,  if 
 he  ever  becomes  self-conscious,  has  great 
 reason  to  feel  meaner.  And  then,  he  has 
 his  rivah-ies,  his  competitions,  his  troubles 
 of  caste  and  etiquette,  so  that  the  mer- 
 chant, in  his  sumptuous  apartments,  comes 
 to  the  same  essential  point,  "  sweats  and 
 bears  fardels,"  as  well  as  his  brother  in  the 
 garret ;  tosses  on  his  bed  with  surfeit,  or 
 perplexity,  while  the  other  is  wrapped  in 
 peaceful  slumber ;  and  if  he  is  one  who  re- 
 cognises the  moral  ends  of  life,  finds  him- 
 self called  upon  to  contend  with  his  own 
 heart,  and  to  fight  with  peculiar  temp- 
 tations. And  thus  the  rich  man  and  the 
 poor  man,  who  seem  so  unequal  in  the 
 street,  would  find  but  a  thin  partition  be- 
 tween them,  could  they,  as  they  might, 
 detect  one  another  kneeling  on  the  same 
 
84 
 
 APPEARAlsCE. 
 
 platform  of  spiritual  endeavour,  and  send- 
 ing up  prayers  to  the  same  eternal  throne. 
 Dr.  Cliapin. 
 
 APPEARANCES— Deceitful. 
 
 They  that  seem  best  to  the  world  are 
 often  the  worst  to  God ;  they  that  are  best 
 to  God  seem  worst  to  the  world.  When  the 
 moon  is  highest  to  the  earth,  she  is  darkest 
 to  heaven  ;  when  she  is  highest  to  heaven, 
 she  is  darkest  to  the  earth.  So  often  men 
 most  glorious  to  the  world  are  obscurest  to 
 the  Divine  approbation  ;  others,  obscure  to 
 the  world's  acknowledgment,  are  princi- 
 pally respected  in  God's  favour.  Man 
 would  have  cleared  the  Pharisee  and  con- 
 demned the  publican,  when  they  both 
 appeared  in  the  Temple  together— the  one 
 as  it  were  in  the  choir,  the  other  in  the 
 belfry ;  but  Christ's  judgment  is,  that  the 
 publican  departed  rather  justified. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 The  world  is  still  deceived  with  ornament. 
 In  law,  what  plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt, 
 But,  being  season'd  with  a  gracious  voice, 
 Obscures  the  show  of  evil  ?     In  religion, 
 What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 
 Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
 Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  ornament  ? 
 There  is  no  vice  so  simple,  but  assumes 
 Some  mark  of  virtue  on  its  outward  parts. 
 How  many  cowards,  whose  hearts  are  all  as 
 
 fal>e 
 As   stairs   of  sand,    wear   yet   upon  their 
 
 chins 
 The    bijards    of    Hercules    and  frowning 
 
 Mars, 
 Who,  inward  search' d,  have  livers  white  as 
 
 milk  ! 
 And  thi;se  assume  but  valour's  excrement. 
 To    render    them    redoubted.      Look    on 
 
 beauty. 
 And  you  shall  see  'tis  purchased    by  the 
 
 weight ; 
 Which  therein  works  a  miracle  in  nature, 
 Making  them  liglitest  that  wear  most  of  it: 
 So  are  those  crisped,  snaky,  golden  locks. 
 Which  make  such  waaton  gambols  with  the 
 
 wind, 
 Upon  supposed  fairness,  often  known 
 To  be  the  dowry  of  a  second  head ; 
 The  skull  that  bred  them,  in  the  sepulchre. 
 Thus  ornament  is  but  the  gulled  shore 
 To  a  most  dangerous  sea;    the  beauteous 
 
 scarf 
 Veiling  an  Indian  beauty ;  in  a  word. 
 The  seeming  truth  which  cunning  times 
 
 put  on 
 To  entrap  the  wisest.  Shakespeare. 
 
 APPEARANCES- in  the  Street. 
 
 We  know  how  much  is  put  on  purposely 
 for  the  public  gaze,  and  has  no  other  inten- 
 tion than  to  be  seen ;  how  hollow  are  many 
 of  the  smiles,  and  gay  looks,  and  smooth 
 
 decencies.  And  even  the  complexion  of 
 some,  with  its  red  and  white,  is  more  un- 
 substantial than  aU  the  rest,  for  it  is  in 
 danger  of  being  washed  away  by  the  first 
 shower.  It  is  strange  to  meet  people  whose 
 personal  signification  in  life  is  that  of  a 
 shop-window  exhibiting  lace  and  jewelry  j 
 strange  to  encounter  men  in  whose  place 
 we  might  substitute  a  well-dressed  effigy, 
 and  they  would  hardly  be  missed.  Of 
 course  appearances  should  be  attended  to, 
 and  are  good  in  their  place.  It  is  right 
 that  we  should  honour  society  by  our  best 
 looks  and  ways.  But  it  is  not  merely 
 ridiculous,  it  is  sad,  to  think  how  much  in 
 the  street,  where  humanity  exhibits  all  its 
 phases,  is  appearance,  and  but  little  else. 
 Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 APPEARANCE  OF  EVIL. 
 
 President  Adams,  the  elder,  was  once 
 within  twenty  miles  of  home  when  over- 
 taken by  the  Sabbath.  He  had  been 
 delayed  by  impassable  snow-banks.  A 
 sickly  family  at  home  required  his  pre- 
 sence. His  clerical  friend,  with  whom  he 
 lodged,  told  him  he  thought  the  circum- 
 stances of  his  case  would  justify  his  travel- 
 ling on  the  Sabbath.  His  reply  was,  that 
 to  those  who  witnessed  it,  it  would  have 
 the  appearance  of  evil,  as  they  would  be 
 ignorant  of  the  justifying  circumstances. 
 The  friends  of  the  Sabbath  would  be 
 grieved  to  see  him  apparently  disregard 
 the  saeredness  of  the  day  ;  and  those  who 
 wished  to  be  free  from  its  restraints,  would 
 rejoice  to  have  him  to  sanction  their  in- 
 dulgence by  bis  example.  Anon. 
 
 APPEARANCE  OP  EVIL— Abstain  from. 
 
 A  thing  may  have  the  appearance  of 
 evil,  and  not  be  evil  in  itself,  just  as  an 
 apple  may  have  the  appearance  of  sweet- 
 ness and  soundness,  and  yet  be  both  sour 
 and  rotten  in  reality.  Why,  then,  are  we 
 to  abstain  from  the  appearance  of  evil  ? 
 1.  Because  the  most  judge  by  the  appear- 
 ance, and  would  therefore  judge  us  wrong- 
 fully. 2.  Because  in  this  judgment  our 
 characters  would  be  damaged  and  Chris- 
 tianity be  defamed.  3.  Because  by  follow- 
 ing the  appearance  we  should  promote  and 
 encourage  evil  itself.  4.  Because  we  are 
 positively  commanded.  5.  Because  it  is 
 directly  inconsistent  with  the  good  which 
 we  profess.  6.  Because  by  abstaining  we 
 neither  go  against  conscience  nor  our  in- 
 terests. John  Bate. 
 
 A  Christian  is  called  to  refrain  from 
 some  things,  which,  though  actually  right, 
 yet  will  not  bear  a  good  appearance  to  all 
 men.  I  once  judged  it  my  duty  to  refuse 
 a  considerable  sum  of  money  which  I 
 might  lawfully  and  fairly  have  received, 
 because  I  considered  that  my  account  of 
 
APPLAUSE— ARMOUR  OP  GOD. 
 
 35 
 
 the  matter  could  not  be  stated  to  some, 
 to  whom  a  diflerent  representation  would 
 be  made.  A  man  who  intends  to  stand 
 immaculate,  and,  like  Samuel,  to  come  for- 
 ward and  say,  "  Whose  ox,  or  whose  ass, 
 have  I  taken  ?"  must  count  the  cost.  I 
 knew  that  my  character  to  me  was  worth 
 more  than  this  sum  of  money.  By  pro- 
 bity, a  man  honours  himself.  It  is  the 
 part  of  a  wise  man  to  waive  the  present 
 good  for  the  future  increase.  A  merchant 
 suflers  a  large  quantity  of  goods  to  go  out 
 of  the  kingdom  to  a  foreign  land  ;  but  he 
 has  his  object  in  doing  so  :  he  knows,  by 
 calculation,  that  he  shall  make  so  much 
 more  advantage  by  them.  A  Christian  is 
 made  a  wise  man  by  counting  the  cost. 
 
 M.  Cecil. 
 
 APPLAUSE— Ill-timed. 
 Awhile  your  loud,  untimely  joy  suspend, 
 And  let  your  rash,  injurious  clamours  end; 
 Unruly  murmurs,  or  ill-timed  applause, 
 Wrong  the  best  speaker,  and  thejustest 
 cause.  Jlomer. 
 
 APPLAUSE— Posthumous. 
 
 Great  minds  had  rather  deserve  con- 
 temporaneous applause,  without  obtaining 
 it,  than  obtain  without  deserving  it ;  if  it 
 follow  them,  it  is  well,  but  they  will  not 
 deviate  to  follow  it.  With  inferior  minds 
 the  reverse  is  observable  ;  so  that  they  can 
 command  the  flattery  of  knaves  while 
 living,  they  care  not  for  the  execrations  of 
 honest  men,  when  dead.  Milton  neither 
 aspired  to  'p^'esent  fame,  nor  even  expected 
 it;  but  (to  use  his  own  words)  his  high 
 ambition  was  "  to  leave  somethiug  so 
 written  to  after  ages,  that  they  should  not 
 willingly  let  it  die."  And  Cato  finely  ob- 
 served, he  would  much  rather  that  posterity 
 should  inquire  why  no  statues  were  erected 
 to  him,  than  why  they  ivere.  C.  Colton. 
 
 ARBITRATION- Advantage  of. 
 
 Arbitration  has  this  advantage,  there 
 are  some  points  of  contest  which  it  is 
 better  to  lose  by  arbitration,  than  to  win 
 by  law.  But  as  a  good  general  ofl"ers  his 
 terms  before  the  action,  rather  than  in  the 
 midst  of  it,  so  a  wise  man  will  not  easily 
 be  persuaded  to  have  recourse  to  a  re- 
 fereuc(!,  when  once  his  opponent  has 
 dragged  him  into  a  court.  C.  Colton. 
 
 ARK  OP   THE   COVENANT— a    Type   of 
 Christ. 
 
 I.  The  ark  was  an  assurance  of  God's 
 presence  amongst  His  people  :  so  Christ  is 
 the  cause  and  assurance,  that  God  in  a 
 gracious  way  is  present  with  us. 
 
 II.  Where  the  ark  was  there  it  was 
 lawful  to  offer  sacrifice,  and  nowhere  else  ; 
 which  might  show  that  our  acceptance  in 
 God's  sight  is  through  Jesus  Christ. 
 
 III.  In  the  ark  was  the  pot  of  manna; 
 to  show  that  in  Christ  is  the  life,  comfort, 
 and  spiritual  nourishment  for  our  souls. 
 
 IV.  The  ark  had  a  crown  of  gold  about 
 it  ;  signifying  the  majesty  of  Christ's 
 kingdom,  or  His  regal  power. 
 
 V.  The  two  tables  of  the  law  were  in  the 
 ark,  the  ark  kept  them ;  which  might 
 signify  Christ's  kee])ing  the  law  perfectly 
 for  us,  and  delivering  us  thereby  from  the 
 curse  of  it. 
 
 VI.  When  the  ark  was  set  in  the  temple 
 of  Dagon,  Dagon  fell  down  and  broke  to 
 pieces :  so  when  Christ  and  His  truth  are 
 set  up  in  a  man's  heart,  or  a  nation,  sin 
 and  idolatry  will  go  down. 
 
 VII.  Where  the  ark  was  there  was  the 
 glory  of  God ;  and  when  that  departed,  the 
 glory  of  God  departed :  so  where  Christ's 
 blessed  Gospel  is,  there  is  the  glory  of 
 God,  but  when  Christ  leaves  a  people, 
 takes  away  His  Gospel,  the  glory  of  God 
 goes  from  that  people.  -B.  Keach. 
 
 ARMOUR  OF  GOD— Whole. 
 
 It  is  reporter!,  by  the  poets,  of  Achilles, 
 the  Grecian  captain,  that  his  mother,  being 
 warned  by  the  oracle,  dipped  him — being  a 
 child — in  the  river  Lethe,  to  prevent  any 
 danger  that  might  ensue  by  reason  of  the 
 Trojan  war  ;  but  Paris,  his  inveterate 
 enemy,  understanding  also  by  the  oracle 
 that  he  was  impenetrable  all  over  his  body, 
 except  the  heel,  or  small  part  of  his  leg, 
 which  is  mother  held  him  by,  when  she 
 dipped  him,  took  h'.s  advantage,  shot  him 
 in  the  heel,  and  killed  him.  Thus  every 
 man  is,  or  ought  to  be,  armed  cap-a-pie 
 with  that  panoply, — the  whole  armour  of 
 God.  For  the  devil  will  be  sure  to  hit  the 
 least  part  that  he  finds  unarmed  ;  if  it  be 
 the  eye,  he  will  dait  in  at  that  casement 
 by  the  presentation  of  one  lewd  object  or 
 other ;  if  it  be  the  ear,  he  will  force  that 
 door  open  by  bad  counsel ;  if  the  tongue, 
 that  shall  be  made  a  world  of  mischief;  if 
 the  feet,  they  shall  be  swift  to  shed  blood, 
 kc.  Spencer. 
 
 Leave  no  unguarded  place, 
 
 No  weakness  of  the  soul ; 
 Take  every  virtue,  every  grace. 
 
 And  fortify  the  whole.         C.  Wesley. 
 
 Wherefore  take  unto  you  the  whoie 
 armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to 
 withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done 
 aU,  to  stand.  -S^.  Pciul. 
 
 Put  on  the  whoie  armour  of  God,  that 
 ye  may  be  able  to  stand  against  the  wiles 
 of  the  devil.  St.  Paul. 
 
 ARMOUR  OF  GOD— Use  of  the. 
 
 The  armoury  of  a  nation  may  be  well- 
 
ASCENSION— ASPIRATION. 
 
 stored  with  every  part  of  the  best  armour 
 wliich  is  possible  to  be  provided,  but  it  is 
 of  no  practical  use  there.  It  must  be  taken 
 and  "  put  on  "  the  warriors ;  each  part  in 
 its  right  place  and  relation  :  and  not  only 
 so,  it  must  be  used  after  it  is  put  on,  and 
 used  in  the  proper  way  and  at  the  proper 
 times,  in  order  that  its  utility  may  be 
 proved  in  the  preservation  and  victory  of 
 the  warrior  over  his  foes.  So  with  the 
 armour  of  God.  He  has  provided  the  best 
 moral  armour  in  the  universe,  for  His 
 people.  (See  Eph.  vi,  13 — 18.)  It  is  in  the 
 armoury  of  the  Scripture,  the  means  of 
 grace,  and  the  Spirit's  agency,  but  the 
 soldier  of  the  Cross  must  put  it  on,  and  use 
 it  in  all  courage  and  propriety,  or  he  will 
 not  be  victorious  over  his  enemies,  nor  will 
 the  practical  glory  of  the  armour  be  mani- 
 fest. John  Bate. 
 
 Of  all  the  various  parts  making  up  the 
 armour  of  God,  there  is  none  provided  for 
 the  bacJc,  showing  to  us  that  the  Christian 
 warrior  was  never  meant  to  run  from 
 his  enemies,  but  fight  the  good  fight  of 
 faith,  that  he  may  lay  hold  on  eternal  life  ; 
 and  also  that  if  any  opposition  came  from 
 the  rear,  he  might  be  stimulated  and  im- 
 pelled to  run  all  the  faster  towards  his 
 heavenly  inheritance.  Ibid. 
 
 ASCENSION  or  CHRIST— Design  of  the. 
 
 1.  To  confirm  the  prophecies.  2.  To 
 commence  His  mediatorial  work  in  heaven. 
 3.  To  send  the  Holy  Ghost.  4.  To  prepare 
 a  place  for  His  prepared  people.  He  went 
 up  as  our  Representative  Forerunner,  High 
 Priest,  and  Intercessor;  and  as  the  King  of 
 Glory^  O.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 ASCENSION  OF  CHRIST— Manner  of  the. 
 The  manner  of  Christ's  ascension  into 
 heaven  may  be  said  to  have  been  an  in- 
 stance of  Divine  simplicity  and  sublimity 
 combined,  which  scarcely  has  a  parallel. 
 While  in  the  act  of  blessing  His  disciples. 
 He  was  parted  from  them,  and  was  carried 
 up,  and  disappeared  beliind  a  cloud.  There 
 was  no  pomp ;  nothing  could  have  been 
 more  simple.  How  can  the  followers  of 
 this  Lord  and  Master  rely  on  pomp  and 
 ceremony  to  spread  His  religion,  when  He, 
 its  founder,  gave  no  countenance  to  such 
 appeals  to  the  senses  of  men  ?  Had  some 
 good  men  been  consulted  about  the  manner 
 of  the  ascension,  we  can  imagine  the  result. 
 JSf.  uldams. 
 
 ASPIRATION— Boundless. 
 
 0  for  a  bliss  unbounded !     Far  beneath 
 
 A  soul  immortal  is  a  mortal  joy  j 
 
 Nor  are  our  powers  to  perish  immature, 
 
 But  after  feeble  effort  here,  beneath 
 
 A  brighter  sun,  and  in  a  nobler  soil. 
 Transplanted  from  this  sublunary  bed. 
 Shall  flourish  fair  and  put  forth  all  their 
 bloom.  Young. 
 
 ASPIRATION— Formation  of. 
 
 A  noble  man  compares  and  estimates 
 himself  by  an  idea  which  is  higher  than 
 himself,  and  a  mean  man  by  one  which  is 
 lower  than  himself.  The  one  produces 
 aspiration  ;  the  other  ambition.  Ambition 
 is  the  way  a  vulgar  man  aspires. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 ASPIRATION— after  God. 
 
 Loose  me  from  earth's  enclosure,  from  the 
 
 sun's 
 Contracted  circle  set  my  heart  atlarge; 
 Eliminate  my  spirit,  give  it  range 
 Through  provinces  of  thought  yet  unex- 
 plored ; 
 Teach  me,  by  this  stupendous  scaffolding, 
 Creation's  golden  steps,  to  climb  to  Thee. 
 Anon. 
 
 ASPIRATION— Holy. 
 
 Spirit  of  Life  !  with  Thy  pure  love  inspire 
 My  longing  spirit  as  it  upward  turns, — 
 
 Kindle  and  nurse  to  strength  the  heavenly 
 fire 
 Which  in  my  penitence  so  feebly  burns. 
 
 Let  love  the  law  to  all  my  being  give. 
 Love  its  continual  aspiration  be, — 
 
 To  love — to  love — this  is  indeed  to  live. 
 Thou  God  of  Love,  O  breathe  this  life  in 
 me !  Prof.  Vinet. 
 
 ASPIRATION— Universal, 
 
 Every  man  is  born  with  aspiration.  It 
 does  not  develop  in  every  man.  Neither 
 do  half  the  buds  in  trees  blossom.  But 
 they  are  there.  And  there  is  aspiration  in 
 every  man,  whether  you  suspect  or  not,  and 
 though  it  may  not  blossom.  Aspiration 
 means  tendril,  twining,  or  anything  else 
 by  which  one  vines  upward,  holding  on  by 
 the  way  to  whatever  will  support  it.  Some 
 plants  take  hold  by  winding  around,  some 
 by  little  roots,  some  by  tendrils,  some  by 
 hooks,  and  some  by  leaves  that  catch  like 
 anchors.  But  these  things  take  hold  not 
 for  the  sake  of  staying  when  they  take 
 hold,  but  only  that  they  may  climb  higher. 
 And  so  it  is  with  men.  We  clasp  things 
 above  by  every  part  of  our  nature,  oue  after 
 another,  not  for  the  sake  of  remaining 
 when  we  take  hold,  but  that  we  may  go 
 higher.  In  other  words,  when  in  the  ordi- 
 nary experience  of  life  we  gain  satisfaction, 
 we  do  it  almost  only  by  feeding  on  each 
 other.  When  we  attain  development,  we 
 do  that  in  the  same  way.  The  soul  feeds  on 
 soul,  whether  for  satisfaction  or  develop- 
 ment. S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
ASPIEATIONS— ASSURANCE. 
 
 37 
 
 ASPIRATIONS— Holy. 
 
 Aspirations  after  tlie  Holy — the  only 
 aspiration  in  which  the  human  soul  can  be 
 assured  that  it  will  never  meet  with  disap- 
 pointment. M.  Mcintosh. 
 
 As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water 
 brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  Thee,  O 
 God! 
 
 My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living 
 God  :  when  shall  I  come  and  appear  before 
 God  ?  Fsalms. 
 
 ASSOCIATION— Law  of. 
 
 So  subtle  and  so  persuasive  is  this  law  of 
 association,  that  it  is  influential,  even  when 
 ■we  are  hardly  conscious  of  its  existence. 
 The  chance  word  from  the  lips  of  a  friend, 
 falling  upon  some  nascent  desire  like  a 
 spark  upon  tinder ;  the  vision  of  some 
 grave  or  wise  one,  held  up  to  the  glance  of 
 fancy  so  often,  that  it  has  become  the  ideal 
 model  of  the  heart's  aspiring;  the  music  of 
 some  old  word  greeting  the  ear  with  a 
 strange  melody,  have  fixed  the  tone  of  a 
 spirit  and  have  fasliioned  the  direction  of  a 
 life.  The  world  is  just  one  unbroken  chain 
 of  these  actions  and  reactions.  We  are 
 bound  by  them ;  we  are  compassed  by  them  ; 
 and  we  can  no  more  escape  from  tliem 
 than  we  can  fling  ourselves  beyond  the  in- 
 fluence of  the  law  of  gravitation,  or  refuse 
 to  be  trammelled  by  the  all-embracing  air. 
 W.  M.  Ptmshon. 
 
 ASSURANCE- taught  in  all  Ages. 
 
 The  Church  of  England  leads  her  people 
 publicly  to  declare,  "  I  believe  in  the  for- 
 giveness of  sins."  Her  Homilies  teach  that 
 "  a  true  faith  is  a  sure  trust  and  confidence 
 which  a  man  liath  in  God,  that,  by  the  merits 
 of  Christ,  his  sins  are  forgiven,  and  he  recon- 
 ciled to  the  favour  of  God ;"  and,  further, 
 that  "  godly  men  feel  inwardly  God's  Holy 
 Spirit  inflaming  their  hearts  with  love." 
 Hence,  Bishops,  and  eminent  expounders  in 
 that  Church,  have  set  it  forth  plainly  and 
 positively.  Bishops  Reynolds,  Pearson,  and 
 Andrews, — Richard  Hooker,  Dr.  Isaac  Bar- 
 row, and  many  others,  have  done  so.  The 
 Presbyterians  and  Puritans,  from  Calvin 
 downwards,  have  taught  it.  John  Bunyan, 
 the  Church's  Allegorist,  speaks  of  three 
 shining  ones  coming  to  Pilgrim  at  the 
 cross,  and  saluting  him  with  "  Peace."  The 
 first  shining  one  he  describes  as  saying  to 
 him,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee ;"  the 
 second,  as  stripping  him  of  his  rags,  and 
 clothing  him  with  a  change  of  raiment ; 
 and  the  third,  as  setting  a  mark  upon  his 
 forehead,  and  giving  him  a  roll  with  a  seal 
 upon  it ;  which  roll,  or  inward  assurance. 
 Christian  lost  in  "  pleasant  harbour,"  where 
 in  unwatchfulness  he  slept  at  noonday. 
 Wesley  and  Whitfield  preached  this  doc- 
 
 trine of  the  Spirit's  witness,  freely  and 
 fully ;  and  their  preaching  was  attended  by 
 spiritual  signs  and  wonders,  unexampled  in 
 modern  times.  Increasing  thousands  in 
 successive  generations,  down  to  the  present 
 period, have  professed  this  Divine  assurance, 
 and  have  rejoiced  in  it,  both  in  life  and  in 
 death.  And  whenever  any  great  revival  of 
 the  work  of  God  occurs,  the  fact  of  the 
 Spirit's  testimony  being  i-eceived  by  con- 
 verts, is  always  made  prominent.  Thus 
 this  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit's  witness 
 to  the  heart  of  the  believer,  is  not  new,  as 
 some  have  set  forth.  It  is  as  old  as  the 
 work  of  God  in  the  souls  of  men  ;  and  has 
 been  known  and  held  in  the  Cliurch  from, 
 the  beginning.  Dr.  Johson. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Benefit  of. 
 
 It  makes  the  firmest,  the  most  active, 
 the  most  useful,  the  holiest,  the  hai^piest, 
 the  most  even  and  regular  Christians 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Comfort  of. 
 
 "  Knowing  in  yourselves,"  saith  the 
 Apostle,  "  that  ye  have  in  heaven  a  better 
 and  a  more  enduring  substance ;"  so  our 
 translation  renders  it ;  but,  in  the  original 
 it  is,  "  Know  that  in  yourselves  you  have  a 
 better  and  a  more  enduring  substance  in 
 heaven :"  those  th.it  are  assured  of  the 
 truth  of  their  own  graces,  have  a  heaven  in 
 themselves,  a  better  and  a  more  enduring 
 substance  in  themselves;  such  discoveries 
 of  God,  such  sweet  peace  and  tranquillity  of 
 soul,  such  overflowing  joys  of  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  that  heaven  itself  is  never  able  to 
 bestow  other  kind  of  happiness  than  this  is, 
 though  there  they  shall  have  it  in  further 
 degrees  and  measure.  JBp.  So^kms. 
 
 How  sweet  it  is.  This  is  the  manna  id 
 the  golden  pot ;  the  white  stone,  the  wine 
 of  paradise  which  cheers  the  heart.  How 
 comfortable  is  God's  smile  !  the  sun  is  more 
 refreshing  when  it  shines  out  than  when  it 
 is  hid  in  a  cloud ;  it  is  a  prelibation  and  a 
 foretaste  of  glory,  it  puts  a  man  in  heaven 
 before  his  time  ;  none  can  know  how  deli 
 cious  and  ravishing  it  is,  but  such  as  have 
 felt  it ;  as  none  can  know  how  sweet  honey 
 is,  but  those  who  have  tasted  it. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 ASSURANCE— in  Death. 
 
 It  was  at  this  momentous  crisis  that  his 
 (St.  Paul's)  faith  approved  itself, — not  the 
 leaf  driven  by  the  tempest, — not  the 
 reed  shaken  with  the  wind, — but  an  oak, 
 more  deeply  rooted,  by  the  raging  blasts 
 of  a  thousand  storms,  and  unmoved,  wheu 
 the  last  mighty  whirlwinds  were  sweeping 
 through  its  branches.  He  stands  before  uw. 
 in  the  attitude  of  calm  Christian  assurance, 
 
38 
 
 ASSURANCE. 
 
 with  tlie  fire  of  heaven  lighting  up  his  eye, 
 even  while  the  chain  of  persecution  is 
 fretting  his  aged  frame,  and  the  fire  or 
 sword  of  martyrdom  is  waiting  for  its  prey. 
 The  shadows  of  eventide  are  beginning  to 
 gather,  but  the  gleam  of  a  brighter  sky  is 
 seen  beyond,  and,  with  the  assured  convic- 
 tion that  the  object  of  his  life  is  fully  ac- 
 complished, these  are  his  impressive  words, 
 "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  am 
 persuaded  that  He  is  able  to  keep  that 
 which  I  have  committed  to  Him  against 
 that  day."  J.  A.  Macduff". 
 
 Death,  like  the  proud  Philistine,  comes 
 marching  out  in  his  hideous  shape,  daring 
 the  whole  host  of  Israel  to  match  him  with 
 an  equal  combatant.  The  atheist  dares  not 
 die,  for  fear  non  esse,  that  he  shall  not  be 
 •dt  all :  the  profane  dares  not  die,  for  fear 
 male  esse,  to  he  damned:  the  doubtful 
 conscience  dare  not  die,  because  he  knows 
 not  whether  he  shall  he,  or  be  damned, 
 jr  not  be  at  all.  Only  the  resolved  Chris- 
 tian dares  die,  because  he  is  assured  of  his 
 election,  he  knows  he  shall  be  happy,  and 
 so  lifts  up  pleasant  eyes  to  heaven,  the  in- 
 lallible  place  of  his  eternal  rest.  He  dares 
 encounter  with  his  last  enemy,  trample  on 
 him  with  the  foot  of  disdain,  and  trium- 
 phantly sing  over  him,  "  0  death,  where  is 
 Ihy  sting  ?  0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?" 
 He  conquers  in  being  conquered ;  and  all  be- 
 (viuse  God  hath  said  to  his  soul,  "  I  am  thy 
 salvation."  T.  Adams. 
 
 Donald  Cargill,  on  the  scaffold,  July  28th, 
 1681,  as  he  handed  his  well-used  Bible  to 
 one  of  his  iriends  that  stood  near,  gave  this 
 testimony  : 
 
 "  I  bless  the  Lord  that  these  thirty  years 
 and  more  I  have  been  at  peace  with  God, 
 auil  was  never  shaken  loose  of  it.  And  now 
 1  am  as  sure  of  my  interest  in  Christ,  and 
 feace  ivith  God,  as  all  within  this  Bible  and 
 the  Spirit  of  God  can  make  me.  And  I  am 
 no  more  terrified  at  death,  nor  afraid  of  hell, 
 hecause  of  sin,  than  if  I  never  had  sin :  for 
 aU  my  sins  are  freely  pardimed,  and  washed 
 thoroughly  away,  through  the  precious 
 b' jod  and  intercession  of  Jesus  Christ." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Eefinltion  of. 
 
 Assurance  is  the  persuasion  or  confidence 
 which  a  Christian  has,  that  he  is  a  child  of 
 God.  In  its  subjective  character,  or  as  it 
 exists  and  is  recognised  in  our  conscious- 
 ness, it  is  of  the  nature  of  faith  !  faith  not 
 in  the  act  of  it,  but  in  the  coniulence  which 
 accompanies,  or,  in  the  order  of  nature, 
 fc' lows  it.  Our  consciousness  plainly  dis- 
 tinguishes between  our  act  of  faith,  and 
 the  consequent  persuasion  which  we  feel  of 
 the  truth  of  what  we  believe;  the  confi- 
 dence with  which   we  rest   in   its  truth.  I 
 
 Both  the  act  of  believing  and  this  result- 
 ing confidence  belong  to  a  proper  religious 
 faith.  Assurance  is  such  a  confidence  of 
 faith.  J.  Miley. 
 
 ASSURANCE— desirahle. 
 
 A  man  can  never  be  too  sure  of  his  going 
 to  heaven.  If  we  purchase  an  inheritance 
 on  earth,  we  make  it  as  sure,  and  our 
 tenure  as  strong,  as  the  brain  of  the  law, 
 or  the  hrains  of  the  lawyers,  can  devise. 
 We  have  conveyances,  and  bonds,  and  fines, 
 no  strength  too  much.  And  shall  we  not 
 be  more  curious  in  the  setthng  our  eternal 
 inheritance  in  heaven  ?  T.  Adams. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Examples  of. 
 
 Abel  "obtained  witness  that  he  was 
 righteous,  God  testifying  of  his  gifts." 
 "  Enoch  walked  with  God ;  and  before  his 
 translation,  had  this  testimony,  that  he 
 pleased  God."  Noah  received  a  testimony 
 of  his  acceptance  :  "  Thee  have  T  seen 
 righteous  before  Me  in  this  generation." 
 Abraham  was  called  "  the  friend  of  God." 
 Job  knew  that  his  Redeemer  lived,  and 
 that  he  should  see  Him,  &c.  Moses  spake 
 face  to  face  with  God.  David  in  his  Psalms 
 gives  repeated  evidence  of  his  assurance. 
 He  calls  God,  "My  God."  Jehovah  was 
 his  rock,  his  portion,  his  refuge,  &c. 
 When  through  unfaithfulness  he  lost  it,  he 
 sought  it  again  with  great  penitence  and 
 earnestness.  Isaiah  sang,  "  0  Lord,  I  will 
 praise  Thee :  though  Thou  wast  angry  with 
 me.  Thine  anger  is  turned  away,  and  Thou 
 comfortedst  me." 
 
 The  New  Testament  saints  are  descrihed 
 as  being  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  as 
 rejoicing  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
 glory.  St  Paul  affirmed,  "  I  know  whom 
 I  have  believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  He 
 is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed 
 unto  Him  against  that  day."  And  the 
 Apostle  St.  John  exnltingly  avers  of  himself, 
 and  of  those  to  whom  he  wrote,  "  Beloved, 
 now  are  tve  the  sons  of  God."  So  that 
 Scripture  teaching  on  Religious  Assurance 
 is  plain  and  consistent  throughout.  It  in- 
 culcates confidence  and  joy  in  the  Lord  by 
 precept ;  and  supports  and  illustrates  it  by 
 example.  Br.  Jobson. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Fear  with. 
 
 The  wealthiest  saints  have  suspected 
 their  poverty,  and  the  richest  in  grace  are 
 yet  poorest  in  spirit.  As  it  is  seen  in  rich 
 misers ;  they  possess  much,  yet  esteem  it 
 little  in  respect  of  what  they  desire;  for 
 plenitudo  opumnon  implet  hiatum  mentis, — 
 the  fulness  of  riches  cannot  answer  the  in- 
 satiable affection.  Whence  it  comes  to 
 pass  that  they  have  restless  thoughts,  and 
 vexing  cares  for  that  they  have  not,  not 
 caring  for  that  they  have.  So  many  good 
 men,  rich  in  the  graces  of  God's  Spii-it,  are 
 
ASSURANCE. 
 
 so  desirous  of  more,  that  they  regard  not 
 what  they  enjoy,  but  what  they  desire  ; 
 complaining  often  that  they  have  no  grace, 
 no  love,  no  life.  T.  Adams. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Happiness  of. 
 
 Lord,  how  secure  and  blest  are  they 
 
 Who  feel  the  joys  of  pardon'd  sin  ; 
 Should  storms  of  wrath  shake  earth  and 
 sea, 
 Their    minds    have  heaven  and   peace 
 within. 
 
 The  day  glides  sweetly  o'er  their  heads 
 
 Made  up  of  innocence  and  love  ; 
 And  soft  and  silent  as  the  shades. 
 
 Their  nightly  minutes  gently  move. 
 Quick  as  their  thoughts,  their  joys  come 
 on, 
 
 But  fly  not  half  so  swift  away  ; 
 Their  souls  are  ever  bright  as  noon, 
 
 And  calm  as  summer  evenings  be. 
 How  oft  they  look  to  the  heavenly  hills, 
 
 Where  groves  of  living  pleasure  grow; 
 And  longuig  hopes  and  cheerful  smiles, 
 
 Sit  undisturb'd  upon  their  brow. 
 They  scorn  to  seek  earth's  golden  toys. 
 
 But  spend  the  day  and  share  the  night, 
 In  numbering  o'er  the  richer  joys 
 
 That  heaven  prepares  for  their  delight. 
 Dr.  Watts. 
 
 ASSURANCE— not  Infallible. 
 
 As  in  a  walk  that  is  shaded  with  trees 
 and  checkered  with  light  and  shadow,  some 
 tracks  and  paths  in  it  are  dark,  and  others 
 are  sunshine  :  such  is  usually  the  life  of  the 
 most  assured  Christian.  Sometimes,  he 
 walks  in  the  light  of  God's  countenance, 
 and  rejoices  in  the  smiles  of  His  favour  : 
 and,  at  other  times,  he  walks  in  darkness 
 and  can  see  no  light ;  he  steps  out  of  the 
 bright  manifestations  of  God's  love,  into 
 the  umbrages  of  sad  and  cloudy  apprehen- 
 sions concerning  his  present  state  of  grace 
 and  his  present  state  of  glory.  -B^.  Hojjkins. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Keeping. 
 
 If  you  have  assurance,  be  careful  you  do 
 not  lose  it ;  keep  it ;  for  it  is  your  life, 
 viz.,  hene  esse,  the  comfort  of  your  life. 
 Keep  assurance. — 1st.  By  prayer  (Ps.  xxxv, 
 10),  "O  continue  thy  loving  kindness:" 
 Lord,  continue  assurance :  do  not  take  away 
 this  privy-seal  from  me.  2nd.  Keep  assur- 
 ance by  humility.  St.  Paul  had  assurance, 
 and  he  baptizeth  himself  with  this  name, 
 "  Chief  of  sinners."  The  jewel  of  assurance 
 is  best  kept  in  the  cabinet  of  an  humble 
 heart.  T.  Watson. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Loss  of. 
 
 The  loss  of  assurance  may  arise  — 
 1.  Defective  views  of  the  righteousness 
 of  Christ,  faith  and  works,  law  and  Gos- 
 pel.   2.  From  cherished  sin — Christian  lost 
 
 his  roll  In  the  arbour,  as^  he  slept.  3. 
 Brooding  over  our  sins  too  much.  4.  In- 
 difference in  regard  to  our  Christian  privi- 
 leges. 5.  Not  sufficiently  appreciating 
 assurance  when  we  have  it.         John  Bate. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Necessity  of. 
 
 A  believer  can  have  but  weak  and  un- 
 stable comfort  without  assurance.  What 
 if  all  the  clusters  of  Canaan  were  laid  on  a 
 heap  ?  What  if  all  the  cordials  of  the 
 Gospel  wei'e  strained  into  one  cup  ?  Were 
 the  soul  anything  the  better,  if  it  must 
 only  tantalise  to  see  them  and  want  them  ? 
 What  sweetness  can  a  Christian  draw  from 
 a  promise  till  he  know  it  belongs  to  him  ? 
 Will  it  enrich  a  man  to  know  that  there 
 are  pearls  and  diamonds  in  the  world  ?  or 
 satisfy  a  fainting  Israelite  to  know  that 
 there  is  a  Canaan,  although  it  may  be  he  shall 
 never  come  near  it  ?  So  that  take  away  a 
 Christian's  interest  and  property  in  a 
 promise,  and  what  becomes  of  his  consola- 
 tion ?  But  God  hath  given  His  word.  His 
 oath.  His  seal.  His  earnest,  and  all  to  this 
 very  end,  that  a  Christian  may  be  assured 
 of  his  salvation,  Culverwell. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Possibility  of. 
 
 David  would  never  pray  for  that  which 
 could  not  be.  "  Say  unto  my  soul,  1  am 
 thy  salvation."  Nor  would  St.  Peter  charge 
 us  with  a  duty  which  stood  not  in  possi- 
 bility to  be  performed  (2  Pet.  i,  10),  "  make 
 your  election  sure."  And  to  stop  the 
 bawling  throats  of  all  cavilling  adversaries, 
 Paul  directly  proves  it  (2  Cor.  xiii.  5), 
 "  Know  ye  not  your  own  selves  how  that 
 Jesus  Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be  repro- 
 bates ?"  We  may  then  know  that  Christ 
 is  in  us  :  if  Christ  be  in  us,  we  are  in 
 Christ ;  if  we  be  in  Christ  we  cannot  be 
 condemned.  T.  Adams. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Reception  of. 
 
 Neither  our  spirit  alone,  nor  God's  Spirit 
 alone,  makes  this  certificate,  but  both  con- 
 curring  God's  Spirit  and  our  spirit 
 
 meeting  together  are  concordes  and  con- 
 testes,  joint  witnesses.  Indeed  the  prin- 
 cipal work  comes  from  God's  Spirit ;  He  is 
 the  primary  cause  of  this  assurance.  Now 
 He  certifies  us  by  word,  by  deed,  and  by 
 seal.  By  word,  terming  us  in  the  Scripture 
 God's  children,  and  putting  into  our  mouths 
 that  filial  voice  whereby  we  cry  "Abba, 
 Father."  By  deed,  "  The  fruit  of  "the  Spirit 
 is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suft'ering,"  &c.  By 
 these  is  our  election  made  sure,  saith  St. 
 Peter.  By  seal,  "  Grieve  not  the  Holy 
 Spirit  of  God,  by  whom  you  are  sealed  to 
 the  day  of  redemption."  Now  our  spirit 
 witnesseth  with  Him  from  the  sanctity  of 
 our  life,  faith,  and  reformation.  "  He  that 
 believeth  on  the  Sou  of  God  hath  tiie 
 witness  in  himself."  T.  Adams. 
 
40 
 
 ASSUEANCE— ATHEISM. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Eeception  of. 
 
 Mr.  Wesley  records,  that  when  he  was 
 enabled  to  believe  in  Christ  as  his  Saviour, 
 under  the  reading  of  Luther's  Preface  to 
 the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Romans,  at 
 about  a  quarter  before  nine,  in  Aldersgate 
 Street,  that  he  felt  his  heart  strangely 
 warmed  within  him;  that  he  felt  he  did 
 trust  in  Christ  alone  for  salvation;  and 
 that  there  and  then  assurance  was  given 
 him  that  Jesus  had  taken  away  all  his  sins, 
 even  Ms,  and  saved  him  from  the  law  of 
 sin  and  death.  Br.  Jobson. 
 
 ASSURANCE— Self-deception  in. 
 
 The  man  who  comes  to  assurance,  and 
 maintains  it,  while  his  conscience  testifies 
 of  him  that  he  is  habitually  declining  in 
 religious  a  flections,  living  in  the  habitual 
 neglect  of  known  duty,  or  in  the  indulgCTice 
 of  actual  sin,  is  one  of  the  most  fearful  in- 
 stances of  self-deception  in  our  woi-ld. 
 
 J.  A.  James. 
 ATHEISM— Absurdity  of. 
 
 The  celebrated  astronomer,  Kircher, 
 having  an  acquaintance  who  denied  the 
 existence  of  God,  took  the  following 
 method  to  convince  him  of  his  error;  he 
 procured  a  very  handsome  globe,  or  repre- 
 sentation of  the  starry  heavens,  which  he 
 placed  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  to  attract 
 his  friend's  observation,  who,  when  he  came, 
 asked  from  whence  it  came,  and  to  whom 
 it  belonged.  "  Not  to  me,"  said  Kircher, 
 "  nor  was  it  ever  made  by  any  person,  but 
 came  here  by  mere  chance."  "  That,"  re- 
 plied his  sceptical  friend,  "  is  absolutely 
 impossible;  you  surely  jest."  Kircher, 
 however,  seriously  persisting  in  his  asser- 
 tion, took  occasion  to  reason  with  his  friend 
 on  his  own  atheistical  principles.  "  You 
 ■will  not  believe,"  said  he,  "  that  this  small 
 body  originated  in  mere  chance,  and  yet 
 you  would  contend  that  those  heavenly 
 bodies,  of  which  it  is  but  a  faint  resem- 
 blance, came  into  existence  without  order 
 or  design."  Pursuing  this  train  of  reason- 
 ing, his  friend  was  at  first  confounded,  next 
 convinced,  and  cordially  confessed  the 
 absurdity  of  denying  the  existence  of  a 
 God.  W.  Nicholson. 
 
 It  would  be  as  wise  for  a  man  to  say  that 
 all  the  railways  in  Great  Britain  were  con- 
 structedand  keptinworkingorder  by  a  com- 
 pany of  ants  ;  or  that  the  city  of  London  was 
 built  and  occupied  by  a  riice  of  beavers  ;  as 
 to  say  that  this  universe  was  made  and  kept 
 in  being  by  the  laws  of  chance,  or  anything 
 else,  apart  from  Him  to  whom,  both  alike 
 are  justly  attributed.  John  Bate. 
 
 ATHEISM— Blindness  of. 
 
 The  owl  in  its  course  in  the  calm  and 
 heautifnl  moonlit  evening, takes  an  athwart 
 
 and  rapid  flight,  to  avoid  the  light  which 
 illuminates  its  eyes  ;  so — 
 
 "  Forth  from  his  dark  and  murky  hiding 
 
 place 
 (Portentous  sight)  the  owlet  Atheism, 
 
 Sailing   on   obscene    wings    athwart    the 
 
 noon. 
 Drops  his  blue-fringed  lids,  and  holds  them 
 
 close. 
 And  hooting  at  the  glorious  sun  in  heaven. 
 Cries  out— WuEKE  is  it  ?"  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 ATHEISM— Modern. 
 
 The  atheism  of  this  age  is  chiefly  founded 
 upon  the  absurd  fallacy  that  the  idea  of  law 
 in  nature  excludes  the  idea  of  God  in  nature. 
 As  well  might  they  say  the  code  of  Napoleon 
 in  France,  excludes  the  idea  of  Napoleon 
 from  France.  To  me,  no  intvntion  is  clearer 
 than  this,  that  intelligent  control  every- 
 where manifests  the  presence  of  a  ruling 
 mind.  To  me,  physical  law,  in  its  perma- 
 nence, expresses  the  immutable  persistence 
 of  His  will;  in  its  wise  adjustments,  the 
 infinite  science  of  His  intellect ;  in  its 
 kindly  adaptations,  the  benevolence  of  His 
 heart.  S.  Coley. 
 
 ATHEISM— An  Objection  of. 
 
 "  If  God  has  spoken,  why  is  not  the 
 universe  convinced  ?"  asked  Shelley,  in  the 
 necessarily  brief  days  of  a  poet's  atheism. 
 This  query  has  been  repeated  by  every 
 atheist  down  to  George  Jacob  Holyoake, 
 who  has  repeated  it  in  his  "  Trial  of 
 Theism."  Why  is  not  the  universe  con- 
 vinced ?  The  universe  is  convinced.  So 
 convinced  are  men  of  God,  that  they  treat 
 those  who  doubt  or  deny  His  existence  as 
 madmen  to  be  pitied  or  confined,  idiots  to 
 be  laughed  at,  or  wretches  to  be  regarded 
 with  horror.  Why  is  not  the  universe  con- 
 vinced? In  the  lofty  language  of  the 
 Psalmist :  "  There  is  no  speech  nor  lan- 
 guage where  their  voice  is  not  heard. 
 Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the 
 earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the 
 world."  It  is  useless  to  urge  that  there 
 is  a  sentence  in  Strabo  which  refers  to  some 
 barbarous  tribe  that  had  no  conception  of 
 God;  or  that  a  missionary  has  somewhere 
 met  with  a  handful  of  half-human  beings 
 in  the  same  pitiable  condition.  Is  it  from 
 absolute  brutality  that  the  atheist  has 
 learned  his  creed  ?  The  very  poverty  of  the 
 list  is  an  answer  to  the  argument  that 
 would  be  founded  upon  it.  Are  these  all  ? 
 Then  the  paltriness  of  the  exceptions  jirovis 
 the  rule.  In  the  height  of  his  culture  the 
 olden  Greek  erected  an  altar,  and  when 
 Paul  stood  on  Mars  Hill  he  could  appeal  to 
 that  presentiment  of  the  Unknown  God, 
 which  lives  in  the  consciousness  of  mankind. 
 The  sable  Numidian,  however  he  may  sym- 
 bolise Him,  however  gross  his  conception 
 
ATHEISM— ATHEIST. 
 
 4.1 
 
 of  Him,  worships  God.  The  Persian  saw 
 God  in  the  sun,  the  fire.  The  colonists  of 
 Columbus's  newly  discovered  western  world 
 found  the  savage  aborigines  worshipping 
 God  ;  and  Europe,  with  this  her  nineteenth 
 century  civilisation,  with  one  accord  bows 
 before  the  throne  of  the  Invisible  God. 
 Down  from  the  far,  far  ages,  from  the  in- 
 fan(;y  of  the  world  and  of  the  human  race, 
 comes  a  voice  fi'om  the  heart  of  humanity. 
 Its  utterances  in  the  past  are  recorded  by 
 the  iron  pen  of  history  ;  it  thunders  in  our 
 very  ears  in  the  present ;  it  speaks  of  God. 
 And  we  are  asked  to  believe  that  the  great 
 heart  of  humanity  lies — has  always  lied ! 
 It  does  not  lie,  it  has  not  lied.  God  exists, 
 and  before  Him  have  I  knelt,  and  with  all 
 the  fervour  of  which  my  nature  is  capable, 
 have  I  poured  out  my  soul  in  gratitude  to 
 Him,  for  that  He  has  rescued  me  from  the 
 horrible  pit,  the  blinding  creed  of  atheism. 
 W.  Bebbingto7i. 
 
 ATHEISM— Theft  of. 
 
 Atheism  is  the  highest  theft  against 
 God,  because  it  would  steal  from  Him  not 
 sua,  sed  se.  His  goods,  but  Himself;  pro- 
 ceeding farther  than  "  Deus  hacc  non  curat," 
 to  "  Deus  non  est,"  than  to  say,  "  God  will 
 not  regard  it ;"  but,  "  there  is  no  God  to 
 regard  it."  These  offer  not  only  a  wicked 
 hand  to  their  own  conscience,  to  scrape  out 
 the  deep-engraven  and  indelible  characters 
 of  the  Divinity  there,  but  a  sacrilegious 
 hand  to  heaven,  as  if  they  would  empty  it 
 of  Deity,  and  pull  Jehovah  out  of  His 
 throne  and  make  Him  a  non  ens. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 ATHEIST— Belief  of  the. 
 
 He  must  believe  in  a  thousand  anomalies 
 which  he  cannot  reconcile  with  reason  ;  in 
 contradictious  and  impossibilities  without 
 number ;  in  effects  which  are  greater  than 
 their  causes,  and  in  the  greatest  of  effects 
 being  produced  without  a  cause ;  and  all 
 this  that  he  may  escape  from  the  sound 
 and  natural  conclusions  of  reason  ;  that  he 
 may  close  his  eyes  to  the  light  which  beams 
 everywhere  upon  him,  from  satellite  and 
 planet,  and  sun  and  system,  reflected  in 
 the  voiceless  but  soul-speaking  eyes  of 
 millions  of  intelligent  creatures;  that  he 
 may  shut  his  ears  to  the  voices  that  are 
 ever  and  anon  rising  up  with  the  sound  of 
 nature's  harmonies — in  the  hum  of  insects, 
 the  songs  of  birds,  the  mui'mur  of  restless 
 M'aters,  the  wild  roaring  of  thunders  and 
 tempests,  and  the  thousand  thousand 
 articulations  of  intelligent  creatures — 
 "There  is  a  God  who  created  all 
 THINGS."  T.  Bagg. 
 
 ATHEIST— Description  of  the. 
 
 An  atheist,  if  you  take  his  word  for  it 
 is  a  very  despicable  mortal.     Let  us  de- 
 
 scribe him  by  his  tenet,  and  copy  him  a 
 little  from  his  own  original.  He  is,  then, 
 no  better  than  a  heap  of  organised  dust,  a 
 stalking  machine,  a  speaking  head  without 
 a  soul  in  it.  His  thoughts  are  bound  by 
 the  laws  of  motion,  his  actions  are  all  pre- 
 scribed. He  has  no  more  liberty  than  the 
 current  of  a  stream,  or  the  blast  of  a  tem- 
 pest ;  and  where  there  is  no  choice  there 
 can  be  no  merit.  J.  Collier. 
 
 ATHEIST— a  Difficulty  of  the. 
 
 To  make  this  out,  that  there  is  no  God, 
 he  would  need  to  travel  abroad  over  the 
 surrounding  universe,  till  he  had  exhausted 
 it,  and  to  search  backward  through  all  the 
 hidden  recesses  of  eternity ;  to  traverse  in 
 every  directinn  the  plains  of  infinitude,  and 
 sweep  the  outskirts  of  that  space  which  is 
 itself  interminable  ;  and  then  bring  back 
 to  this  little  world  of  ours  the  report  of  a 
 universal  blank,  wherein  he  had  not  met 
 with  one  movement  of  a  presiding  God. 
 For  man  not  to  know  of  a  God,  he  has  only 
 to  sink  beneath  the  level  of  our  common 
 nature.  But  to  deny  Him,  he  must  be 
 a  god  himself.  He  must  arrogate  the 
 ubiquity  and  omniscience  of  the  Godhead. 
 Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 ATHEIST— Doom  of  the. 
 
 Thou  that  sayest  the  Christians  perish 
 dost  perish  thyself,  and  leave  the  Christians 
 behind  thee.  Whither  go  these  atheists? 
 I  believe  not  to  heaven,  for  they  believe 
 there  is  no  heaven.  They  sliall  never  have 
 those  joys  they  would  not  believe.  They 
 are  not  in  hell  neither ;  there  is  no  atheist. 
 Where  then  ?  In  hell  they  are  indeed, 
 but  not  as  atheists.  They  no  sooner  put 
 their  heads  within  those  gates  but  atheism 
 drops  off;  they  believe  and  feel  now  there 
 is  a  God.  T.  Adams. 
 
 ATHEIST— Stoicism  of  the. 
 
 There  is  one  quality  that  I  have  re- 
 marked in  every  atheist — at  least  every 
 contented  atheist — that  I  have  met  with. 
 This  is  a  predominance  of  intellect,  a  penury 
 of  feeling.  When  I  say  predominance  I  do 
 not  mean  an  absolute  predominance ;  there 
 is  a  disproportion  in  the  relative  develop- 
 ment of  intellect  and  feeling.  They  are 
 cold  and  passionless — no  warmth,  no  phan- 
 tasy— nothing  can  move,  nothing  can  excite 
 them.  They  are  impassive  as  marble. 
 Shov/  nie  a  contented  atheist,  and  I  will 
 show  you  a  man  who  never  wept  over  a 
 tragedy,  who  never  felt  an  enthusiastic 
 burst  of  joy.  I  could  always  feel  enrap- 
 tured with  those  Hebrew  Psalms — now  a 
 dirge  of  sorrow,  now  a  glorious  burst  of 
 triumph.  I  have  read  over  and  over  again 
 that  wondrous  drama  contained  in  the 
 book  of  Job,  which  towers  away  among 
 the  loftiest  poesy  in  the  world,  and  almost 
 
42 
 
 ATHEIST— ATONEMENT. 
 
 wailed  with  the  patriarch  in  his  distress. 
 Over  the  grand  okl  Hebrew  prophets,  who 
 now  fuhninated  the  awful  threatenings  of 
 Jehovah  against  tlie  rebellious  Jews — now 
 sung  rapturously  of  the  coming  Messiah, 
 the  Day  Star  from  on  high — over  these,  I 
 say,  I  liave  hung,  charmed  and  balf-en- 
 trani-ed  with  the  beauty  and  loftiness  of 
 their  poesy.  But  do  atheists  generally  do 
 this  ?  1  never  met  with  one  who  did;  I 
 have  heen  rebuked  a  hundred  times  for 
 admitting  the  grandeur  of  the  Bible.  But 
 the  men  of  whom  I  speak  are  men  for 
 whom  not  only  Isaiah,  David,  sung  in  vain  ; 
 hut  also  Homer,  Milton,  Dante,  Virgil, 
 Shakespeare.  I  know  them,  and  I  know 
 it.  Search  their  literature  through  for  one 
 poetic  thought ;  if  you  find  it  don't  despair 
 of  discovering  the  elixir  of  life,  the  philo- 
 sopher's stone.  W.  Bebbington. 
 
 ATHEIST— Temerity  of  the. 
 
 The  wonder  turris  on  the  great  process 
 hy  which  a  man  could  grow  to  the  intelli- 
 gence which  can  know  that  there  is  no 
 God.  What  ages,  and  what  lights  are 
 requisite  for  TUis  attainment !  This  in- 
 telligence involves  the  very  attributes  of 
 Divinity,  while  a  God  is  denied;  for,  unless 
 this  man  is  omnipresent — unless  he  is  at 
 this  moment  in  every  place  in  the  uni- 
 verse, he  cannot  know  hut  there  may  be 
 in  some  place  manifestations  of  a  Deitj', 
 by  which  even  he  would  be  overpowered. 
 If  he  does  not  know  absolutely  every  agent 
 in  the  universe,  the  one  that  he  does  not 
 know  may  be  God.  If  he  is  not  himself 
 the  chief  agent  in  the  universe,  and  does 
 not  know  wliat  is  so,  that  which  is  so  may 
 be  God.  If  he  is  not  in  absolute  possession 
 of  all  the  propositions  that  constitute  uni- 
 versal truth,  the  one  which  he  wants  may 
 be,  that  there  is  a  God.  If  he  cannot  with 
 certainty  assign  the  cause  of  all  that  he 
 perceives  to  exist,  that  cause  may  be  God. 
 If  he  does  not  know  everything  that  has 
 been  done  in  the  immeasurable  ages  that 
 are  past,  some  things  may  have  been  done 
 by  a  God.  Thus,  unless  he  kiiows  all  things 
 — that  is,  precludes  all  other  divine  ex- 
 istence hy  being  Deity  himself — he  cannot 
 know  that  the  Being  whose  existence  he 
 rejects  does  not  exist ;  but  he  must  know 
 that  he  does  not  exist,  else  he  deserves 
 equal  contempt  and  compassion  for  the 
 temerity  with  which  he  firmly  avows  his 
 rejection,  and  acts  accordingly. 
 
 JoIm  Foster. 
 
 ATHEIST— Three  kinds  of. 
 
 Of  Atheists  there  are  three  classes :  1. 
 Those  who  confessedly  deny  the  being  of 
 any  God  ;  such  as  those  who  believe  in  an 
 eternal  succession  of  things  as  tliey  are,  or 
 in  a  successive  development  of  nature  in 
 virtue  of  inherent  mechanical  laws,  e.g.. 
 
 Comte,  &c.  2.  Those  who,  while  admit- 
 ting God  nominally,  deny  any  of  His  es- 
 sential constituent  attributes.  In  this 
 sense  the  Pantheist,  who  denies  the  per- 
 sonality of  God,  and  who  confounds  Him 
 with  the  universe,  is  really,  though  not 
 nominally,  an  Atheist,  since  it  makes  little 
 difierence  whether  we  say  that  the  world 
 is  God,  or  that  God  is  the  world.  3.  To 
 the  same  end  tends  practically,  and  by 
 logical  though  not  by  confessed  conse- 
 quence, all  materialism,  which  makes  in- 
 telligence the  result,  not  the  cause,  of  phy- 
 sical organisation ;  and  all  naturalism, 
 which,  while  verbally  admitting  a  distant 
 God  in  the  first  inconceivably  remote  act 
 of  creation,  denies  Him  altogether  in  aU 
 providence  and  supernatural  revelation. 
 
 A.  A,  Hodge. 
 
 ATHEIST— "Wickedness  of  the. 
 
 They  tell  us,  "  It  is  better  to  be  a  living 
 dog  than  a  dead  lion,"  which  is  true  among 
 beasts  like  themselves,  but  among  men  a 
 dead  beast  is  better  than  a  living  atheist. 
 Like  dogs  they  bark  at  heaven,  but  they 
 cannot  bite  it ;  it  is  out  of  their  circum- 
 ference. Though  they  build  up  reasons 
 and  treasons  like  Babel,  yet  they  prove 
 but  confusion.  They  would  pull  God  out 
 of  His  throne,  if  it  were  possible ;  but  He  is 
 safe  enough  out  of  the  reach  of  their 
 malice,  else  it  had  gone  ill  with  Him  before 
 this.  Their  song  is,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink 
 (they  think  of  no  reckoning  to  pay),  for  to- 
 morrow we  die."  They  promise  to-morrow, 
 yet  kill  themselves  to-day.  This  is  their 
 song,  but  the  Holy  Ghost  adds  the  burden  : 
 "  After  death  cometh  the  judgment." 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 ATONEMENT— Explains  Christ's  Sufferings. 
 We  contend  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
 atonement,  the  doctrine  that  Christ  died 
 as  a  sin- offering  and  propitiation  for  the 
 oifences  of  the  world,  furnishes  the  only  ex- 
 planation of  the  anguish  and  the  horrors  of 
 the  sufferer.  Regard  Jesus  only  as  a 
 man,  dying  only  to  set  an  example  of  pa- 
 tience and  to  give  authority  to  what  He  had 
 taught,  and  we  are  bold  to  say  that  there  is 
 a  strangeness  and  an  awfulness  in  Hisdeath, 
 which  might  go  far  towards  inducing  a 
 suspicion  that  He  had  not  come  from  God, 
 but  had  been  imposing  on  the  world.  Is  it 
 perfect  innocence  which  thus  trembles  as 
 tliough  an  avenging  conscience  were  busy  ? 
 Is  it  the  messenger,  the  approved  and  be- 
 loved of  God,  who  bitterly  complains  to  us 
 that  He  is  deserted  of  God  ?  But  admit  the 
 great  truth  that  Christ  "bare  our  sins  in 
 His  own  body  on  the  tree,"  and  the  scenes 
 of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary  are  such  as  we 
 might  expect,  though  nevertheless  inex- 
 pressibly solemn  and  mysterious.  I  know 
 whv  the  sufferer,  though  He  had  done  "  no 
 
ATONEMENT. 
 
 sin,  neither  was  guilt  found  in  His  mouth," 
 shrinks  and  is  aghast  even  as  though  a 
 mountain  of  iniquities  were  upon  Him. 
 A  mountain  of  iniquities  is  upon  Him  ;  my 
 ini(juities  are  there;  your  iniquities  are 
 tliere ;  the  iniquities  of  tlie  whole  liuman 
 race  are  there ;  and  I  understand  wliy  the 
 undefiled  One  should  stagger,  and  be  sorely 
 oppressed.  I  know  why  the  victim,  though 
 His  purity  of  soul  must  have  made  Him 
 precious  in  God's  sight,  cries  out  as  though 
 surroiinded  hy  the  terrible  darkness  ot 
 spiritual  desertion.  He  is  surrounded  by 
 that  darkness  ;  He  is  standing  in  the  place 
 of  criminals;  justice  is  exacting  from  Him 
 the  penalties  of  criminals,  and  the  liglit 
 of  God's  countenance  must  for  a  while 
 be  liid  from  tlie  being  on  whom  the  vials  of 
 wrath  are  rapidly  descending.     H.  Melvill. 
 
 ATOl^TEMENT— Extent  of  the. 
 
 It  is  not  like  a  banquet,  accommodated 
 to  tlie  tastes  and  wants  of  so  many  and  no 
 more.  Like  a  masterpiece  of  music,  its 
 virtues  are  independent  of  numbers. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 The  doctrines  of  the  apostles  did  excite 
 controversies  about  predestination  to  life, 
 the  sovereignty  of  Divine  grace,  the  account- 
 ableness  of  a  sinner  to  the  moral  law,  the 
 reality  of  the  atonement,  &c. ;  but  there  is 
 not  the  most  remote  allusion  to  any  con- 
 troversies having  been  raised  concerning 
 the  EXTENT  of  the  atonement.  Some  of 
 the  Jews,  indeed,  at  one  time,  had  doubts 
 about  the  universal  calling  of  the  Gentiles; 
 but  those  doubts  arose  from  their  views  of 
 the  Mosaic  covenant,  and  not  from  consi- 
 derations relative  to  the  intrinsic  aspect 
 and  design  of  the  atonement. 
 
 The  apostles  declare,  in  language  the 
 most  distinct  and  unequivocal,  that  the 
 death  of  Christ  was  a  ransom  for  all,  and 
 a  propitiatiim  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
 world,  that  He  tasted  death  for  every  man, 
 and  that  God,  consequently,  was  in  Him 
 reconciUng  the  world  unto  Himself.  Yea, 
 tliey  openly  declared  that  persons,  who  de- 
 nied or  renoun(;ed  the  Lord  who  bought 
 ihem,  would  notwithstanding  meet  with  a 
 damnation  that  slumbered  not.  Yet  tliis 
 universal  aspect  of  the  atonement  is  never 
 supposed  to  have  shocked  the  minds  or 
 clashed  with  the  doctrines  of  the  primitive 
 churches.  In  all  the  apostolical  writings, 
 there  is  no  hint  given  that  the  churches 
 had  any  narrow  views  of  the  design  of  the 
 death  of  Christ ;  and  no  reply  is  given  to 
 any  objection  which  might  imply  a  misap- 
 prehension of  such  an  unshackled,  unquali- 
 fied, and  unlimited  testimony,  concerning 
 the  extent  of  the  atonement. 
 
 That  the  apostles  represented  Christ  to 
 have  died  "  for  the  Church,"  "  for  the  people," 
 &c.,  does  not  in  the  least  weaken  this  posi- 
 
 tion J  for  what  is  true  of  the  whole  of  man- 
 kind, must  be  true  of  a  part,  and  such  a 
 language  expresses  the  actual  result  of  the 
 atonement,  and  not  the  nature,  aspect,  and 
 adaptation,  and  design  of  it. 
 
 The  apostles  understood  their  commissions 
 to  be  general  and  indiscriminate  for  "every 
 creature  ;"  so  they  received  it  from  Him, 
 who  laid  the  foundation  of  such  an  exten- 
 sive ministration,  by  tasting  deatli  for 
 every  man.  Accordingly  they  went  forth 
 on  their  commission  to  preach  the  Gospel 
 to  "  all  the  world."  They  did  not  square 
 their  message  by  any  human  system  of  the- 
 ology, nor  measure  their  language  to  the 
 lines  of  Procrustean  creeds.  They  em- 
 ployed a  dialect  that  traverses  the  length 
 and  breadth  of  the  world.  They  did  not 
 tremble  for  such  an  unreserved  exhibition 
 of  the  ark  and  the  mercy  seat.  They  could 
 not  bring  themselves  to  stint  the  remedy 
 which  was  prepared  and  intended  to  restore 
 a  dying  world ;  nor  would  they  cramp  the 
 bow,  which  God  had  lighted  up  in  the 
 storm  that  threatened  all  mankind. 
 
 Dr.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 
 "  He  tasted  death  I'or  every  man."  "  He 
 gave  Himself  a  ransom  for  all."  "  He  is  a 
 propitiation  lor  the  sinsof  the  whole  world." 
 That  all  are  not  saved  is  no  olyection.  It 
 is  suggested  by  a  popular  expositor  that  in 
 material  nature  much  goodness  seems 
 wasted.  Rain  and  dew  descend  upon 
 flinty  rocks  and  sterile  sands  ;  floods  of 
 genial  light  come  tiding  down  every  morn- 
 ing from  the  sun  on  scenes  where  no  human 
 foot  has  trod ;  flowers  bloom  in  beauty  and 
 emit  their  fragrance,  trees  rise  in  majesty 
 and  throw  away  their  clustering  fruit,  on 
 spots  where  as  yet  there  has  never  been  a 
 man.  Wealth  sufficient  to  enrich  whole 
 nations  is  buried  beneath  the  mountains 
 and  the  seas,  while  millions  are  in  want. 
 Medicine  for  half  the  ills  of  life  is  shut  up 
 in  minerals  and  plants,  while  generations 
 die  without  knowing  of  the  remedy  which 
 nature  has  provided.  It  is  no  objection, 
 therefore,  to  the  universality  of  the  atone- 
 ment, that  all  are  not  benefited  by  it.  Its 
 benefits  one  day  will  be  universally  enjoyed. 
 There  are  men  coming  after  us  who  shall 
 live  in  those  solitary  wastes,  enjoy  the 
 beauty  and  the  light  which  now  seem 
 wasted,  appioi)riate  the  fruits,  the  wealth, 
 and  the  medicine,  which  feu*  ages  have  been 
 of  no  avail.  It  will  be  even  so  with  the 
 death  of  Christ.  There  are  men  coming 
 after  us  that  shall  participate  of  the  bless- 
 ings of  that  atonement,  which  generations 
 have  either  ignorantly  rejected  or  wickedly 
 despised.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 ATONEMENT— Incarnation   necessary    to 
 the. 
 An  incarnation  is  implied  and  presup- 
 
ATOWEKENT. 
 
 posed  in  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  Atone- 
 ment, as  the  necessary  means  to  the  end. 
 For  if  satisfaction  was  to  be  made  to 
 Divine  justice  for  the  sins  of  men,  by 
 vicarious  obedience  and  vicarious  sufS'er- 
 ings,  in  such  a  way  (and  in  no  other  way  it 
 could  be  consistent  witli  Divine  wisdom)  as 
 might  attach  the  pardoned  offender  to 
 God's  service,  upon  a  principle  of  love  and 
 gratitude,  it  was  essential  to  this  plan 
 that  God  himself  should  take  a  principal 
 part  in  all  that  His  justice  required  to 
 be  done  and  suffered,  to  make  room  for 
 His  mercy;  and  the  Divine  nature  itself 
 being  incapable  of  suffering,  it  was  neces- 
 sary to  the  scheme  of  pardon  that  the 
 Godhead  should  condescend  to  unite  to 
 itself  the  nature  capable.         Bp.  Sorsley. 
 
 Tlie  incarnation  of  Christ  was  for  a  pur- 
 pose whicii  God  only  could  accomplish,  and 
 God  himself  could  accomplish  in  no  other 
 way  :  it  was  for  the  execution  of  a  plan 
 which  Divine  wisdom  could  alone  contrive, 
 — Divine  love  and  Almighty  power  could 
 alone  effect :  it  was  to  rescue  those  from 
 endless  misery  whom  Divine  justice  (which, 
 because  it  is  mere  and  very  justice,  must 
 be  inflexible)  demanded  for  its  victims. 
 
 jB^.  Sorsley. 
 
 ATONEMENT— above  Law. 
 
 Atonement  is  not  an  expedient  contrary 
 to  law,  but  above  law.  It  is  wliat  law,  as 
 Jaw,  cannot  contemplate.  It  is  introduced 
 into  an  administration,  not  to  execute  the 
 letter  of  the  law,  but  preserve  "  the  spirit 
 and  the  truth"  of  the  constitution.  The 
 death  of  Christ  is  an  atonement  for  sin 
 committed,  it  is  a  public  expression  of 
 God's  regard  for  the  law  which  has  been 
 transgressed;  and  it  is  an  honorable 
 ground  of  showing  clemency  to  the  trans- 
 gressors. Dr.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 
 ATONEMENT— Meaning  of. 
 
 The  v/ord  atonement  occurs  but  once  in 
 the  English  translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
 ment, Kom.  V,  11 ;  but  the  Greek  word,  of 
 which  in  that  case  it  is  a  translation, 
 Ka~aXXay;;,andthe  verb  of  the  same  origin 
 and  meaning,  KaraXXacrtrw  ("  to  change,  ex- 
 change, to  reconcile")  occur  together  ten 
 times  in  the  New  Testament,  viz.,  Rom.  v, 
 10,  twice  ;  ver.  11 ;  xi,  15;  1  Cor.  vii,  11 ; 
 2  Cor.  V,  18,  twice;  ver.  19,  twice;  and 
 ver.  20.  In  every  case  the  verb  is  trans- 
 lated "  to  reconcile  "  and,  except  in  Rom. 
 v,  11,  the  noun  is  rendered  "reconcilia- 
 tion ;"  the  mode  of  this  reconciliation  being 
 clearly  indicated,  Rom.  v,  10,  viz.,  "  by  the 
 death  of  His  Son." 
 
 Thronglioui  the  Old  Testament  the  word 
 atonement  is  constantly  used  to  signify  tb.e 
 recoufilialion  of  God  by  means  of  bloody 
 sacritices,  to  men  alienated  irom  Him  by 
 
 the  guilt  of  sin.  The  priest  made  atone- 
 ment for  the  transgressors  of  the  law,  by 
 sacrifices,  and  it  was  forgiven  them.  Lev. 
 iv,  20 ;  V,  6 ;  vi,  7  ;  xii,  8 ;  xiv,  18 ;  Num. 
 XV,  25.  On  the  great  "  day  of  atonement," 
 the  high  priest  made  atonement,  first  for 
 his  own  sins,  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  bullock  ; 
 and  for  the  sins  of  all  the  people,  by  the 
 sacrifice  of  a  goat ;  and  then  the  sins  thus 
 atoned  for  were  confessed  and  laid  upon  the 
 head  of  the  live  goat,  and  carried  away  by 
 him  into  oblivion,  Lev.  xvi,  6 — 22. 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 ATONEMENT— Nature  and  Design  of  the. 
 
 An  atonement  is  any  provision  that  may 
 be  introduced  into  the  administration  of  a 
 government,  instead  of  the  infliction  of  a 
 punishment  due  to  an  offender — any  expe- 
 dient that  will  justify  a  government  in 
 suspending  the  literal  execution  of  the 
 penalty  threatened — any  consideration  that 
 fllls  the  place  of  punishment,  and  that 
 answers  the  purposes  of  government  as 
 effectually  as  the  infliction  of  the  penalty 
 on  the  offender  himself  would ;  and  which 
 thus  supplies  to  the  government  just,  safe 
 and  honorable  grounds  for  oft'ering  and 
 dispensing  pardon  to  the  offender. 
 
 This  definition  or  description  may  be 
 more  concisely  expressed  thus :  atonement 
 is  an  expedient  substituted  in  the  place  of 
 literal  infliction  of  the  threatened  punish- 
 ment, so  as  to  supply  to  the  government 
 just  and  good  grounds  for  dispensing 
 favours  to  an  offender. 
 
 In  the  administration  of  a  government 
 an  atonement  means,  something  that  may 
 justify  the  exercise  of  clemency  and  mercy, 
 without  relaxing  the  bands  of  just  autho- 
 rity. The  head  of  a  commonwealth,  or  the 
 supreme  organ  of  government,  is  not  a  pri- 
 vate person,  but  a  public  officer.  As  a 
 private  person  he  may  be  inclined  to  do 
 many  things  which  the  honour  of  his 
 pulilic  office  forbid  him  to  do.  Of  this  we 
 have  an  instance  in  the  feelings  of  David 
 towards  his  son  /  ^^salom  in  rebellion. 
 Therefore,  to  reconcile  the  exercise  of  his 
 personal  disposition  with  that  of  his  public 
 function,  some  expedient  must  be  found, 
 which  will  preserve  the  honour  of  his 
 government  in  the  exhibition  that  he  makes 
 of  his  clemency  and  f  ivour.  For  want  of 
 sudi  an  expedient,  a  public  organ  of  govern- 
 ment must  often  withhold  his  favours.  This 
 principle  is  pi-actically  adopted  every  day  in 
 the  discipline  of  children  in  a  family,  as 
 well  as  in  the  civil  administration  of  public 
 justice. 
 
 I  will  endeavour  to  illustrate  this  defini- 
 tion of  an  atonement  by  two  remarkable 
 instances,  one  borrowed  from  holy  Scripture 
 and  the  other  from  profane  history. 
 
 The  first  instance  is  that  of  Darius  and 
 Daniel,   in   Dan.   vi,    14,    15,    16.     King 
 
ATONEMENT. 
 
 45 
 
 Darius  had  established  a  royal  statute,  and 
 made  a  firm  decree,  and  signed  the  writing, 
 that  whosoever  should  ask  a  petition  of  any 
 god  or  man  for  thirty  days,  save  of  the 
 king  himself,  should  be  cast  into  the  den  of 
 lions.  Daniel,  one  of  the  children  of  the 
 captivity  of  Judah,  was  found  to  be  the 
 first  oft'ender.  "  Then  the  king,  when  he 
 heard  these  words,  was  sore  displeased  with 
 himself,  and  set  his  heart  on  Daniel  to 
 deliver  him  j  and  he  laboured  till  the  going 
 down  of  the  sun  to  deliver  him.  Then 
 these  men  assembled  unto  the  king,  and 
 said  unto  the  king.  Know,  O  king,  that 
 the  law  of  the  Medes  and  the  Persians  is, 
 that  no  decree  or  statute  which  the  king 
 estabhsheth  may  be  changed.  Then  the 
 king  commanded,  and  they  brought  Daniel, 
 and  cast  bim  into  the  lions'  den." 
 
 Here  is  an  instance  of  an  absolute 
 sovereign  setting  his  heart  on  the  deliver- 
 ance of  an  offender,  and  labouring  to  obtain 
 it ;  and  yet  prevented  from  exercising  his 
 clemency,  by  a  due  sense  of  the  honour  of 
 his  government.  Could  not  Darius  at  once 
 hsive pa}-do)ied Daniel?  Yes;  Darius  could, 
 as  a  private  person,  forgive  any  private 
 injury ;  but  he  could  not,  as  a  public  officer, 
 privately  forgive  a  public  oft'ence  committed 
 against  the  authority  of  his  office.  Could 
 not  Darius  have  repealed  the  law  which  he 
 himself  had  made  ?  Yes ;  but  not  with 
 honour  to  the  Medes  and  Persians.  Such 
 a  repeal  would  have  shown  egregious 
 fickleness  in  him;  and  such  fickleness 
 and  uncertainty  in  the  administration 
 of  his  government  might  encourage  any 
 disaffection  or  treason  among  the  pre- 
 sidents, princes,  and  satraps  of  the  pro- 
 vinces. Could  not  Darius  have  banished 
 or  silenced  all  the  abettors  of  the  law  and 
 enemies  of  Daniel  ?  Yes;  but  such  a  deed 
 would  have  published  his  folly,  imbecility, 
 and  injustice,  in  every  province  of  his 
 empire ;  his  foll^,  in  enacting  a  law  which 
 he  found  it  unreasonable  to  execute ;  imbe- 
 cility, in  want  of  due  authority  in  his  own 
 council,  and  of  due  firmness  to  enforce  his 
 own  edict ;  and  his  injustice,  in  protecting 
 and  favouring  an  offender  at  the  expense  of 
 the  loyal  supporters  of  the  law  and  the 
 throne. 
 
 What,  then,  is  to  he  done  ?  Cannot 
 some  means  be  found  which  will  enable  the 
 king  to  keep  the  honour  of  his  public 
 character,  and  yet  save  Daniel  ?  No  :  the 
 king  laboured  till  the  going  down  of  the 
 sun  to  deliver  him.  He  pondered,  and 
 thought,  and  devised,  about  a  way  to 
 deliver  him  honorably,  but  failed.  Conse- 
 quently, the  very  personage  who  had  set 
 his  heart  to  deliver  him,  "commanded" 
 with  his  own  lips  that  Daniel  be  brought 
 forth  and  thrown  into  the  den  of  Uons. 
 
 Why  was  this  done  ?  Not  because  the 
 king  had  no  mercy  in  him,  but  simply  and 
 
 only,  because  no  expedient  could  be  found, 
 which  would  at  once  preserve  the  honour  of 
 the  government  and  allow  the  exercise  of 
 clemency  towards  the  offender.  Daniel, 
 then,  was  cast  into  the  lions'  den,  merely 
 because  no  atonement  was  found  to  vindicate 
 and  to  show  forth  "  the  public  justice"  of  the 
 governor  in  his  deliverance.  Here,  then, 
 is  an  instance  of  mercy  being  withheld, 
 merely  from  the  want  of  an  honorable 
 ground  or  medium  for  expressing  it ;  i.  e. 
 the  want  of  an  atonement. 
 
 The  other  instance  to  which  I  alluded,  is 
 from  profane  history.  Iti  this  instance,  also, 
 there  was  a  strong  disposition  to  save  the 
 offender,  and  yet  there  was  a  difficulty, 
 almost  insurmountable  in  the  way  of  his 
 honorable  acquittal.  His  deliverance,  how- 
 ever, was  devised  by  a  wise  expedient 
 introduced  by  the  governor  himself.  I 
 allude  to  the  case  of  the  son  of  Zaleucus. 
 
 Zaleuctts,  the  king  of  the  Locrians,  had 
 established  a  law  against  adultery,  the 
 penalty  of  which  was,  that  the  oifender 
 should  lose  both  eyes.  The  first  person 
 found  guilty  of  this  offence,  was  the  king's 
 own  son.  Zaleucus  felt  as  a  father  toward 
 his  son,  but  he  felt  likewise  as  a  king 
 towards  his  government.  If  he,  from  blind 
 indulgence,  forgive  his  son,  with  what 
 reason  can  he  expect  the  law  to  be  respected 
 by  the  rest  of  his  subjects  ?  and  how  will 
 his  public  character  appear  in  punishing 
 any  future  offender  ?  If  he  repeal  the  law, 
 he  will  brand  his  character  with  dishonour 
 — for  selfishness,  in  sacrificing  the  public 
 good  of  a  whole  community  to  his  private 
 feelings ;  for  iveakness,  in  publishing  a  law 
 whose  penalty  he  never  could  inflict ;  and 
 for  foolishness,  in  introducing  a  law  the 
 bearings  of  which  he  had  never  contem- 
 plated. This  would  make  his  authority  for 
 the  future  a  mere  name. 
 
 The  case  was  a  difficult  one.  Though  he 
 was  an  offended  governor,  yet  he  had  the 
 compassion  of  a  tender  father.  At  the 
 suggestion  of  his  unbribed  mercy,  he  em- 
 ployed his  mind  and  wisdom  to  devise  a 
 measure,  an  expedient,  through  the  medium 
 of  which  he  could  save  his  son,  and  yet 
 magnify  his  law  and  make  it  honorable. 
 The  expedient  was  thus : — the  king  himself 
 would  lose  one  eye,  and  the  offender  should 
 lose  another.  By  this  means  the  honour 
 of  his  law  was  preserved  unsullied,  and  the 
 clemency  of  his  heart  was  extended  to  the 
 offender.  Every  subject  in  the  kingdom, 
 when  he  heard  of  the  king's  conduct,  would 
 feel  assured  that  the  king  esteemed  his  law 
 very  highly ;  and  though  the  offender  did 
 not  suffer  the  entire  penalty,  yet  the 
 clemency  shown  him  was  exercised  in  such 
 a  way,  that  no  adulterer  would  ever  think 
 of  escaping  with  impunity.  Every  reporter 
 or  historian  of  the  fact  would  say  that  the 
 king  spared  not  his  own  eye,  that  he  might 
 
46 
 
 ATONEMENT— AVAKICE. 
 
 spare  his  offending  child  with  honour. 
 He  woukl  assert  that  this  sacrifice  of  the 
 king's  eye  completely  demonstrated  his 
 abhorrence  of  adidtery,  and  high  regard  for 
 his  law,  as  effectually,  as  if  the  penalty 
 had  been  literally  executed  upon  the  sinner 
 himself.  The  impression  on  the  public 
 mind  would  be,  that  this  expedient  of  the 
 father  was  an  atonement  for  the  offence  of 
 his  sou,  and  was  a  just  and  honorable 
 ground  for  pardoning  him. 
 
 Such  an  expedient,  in  the  moral  govern- 
 ment of  God,  the  apostles  asserted  the 
 death  of  Christ  to  be.  They  preached  that 
 all  men  were  "  condemned  already," — that 
 God  had  "  thoughts  of  peace,  and  not  of 
 evil"  towards  all  men, — that  these  thoughts 
 were  to  be  exercised  in  such  a  manner,  as 
 not  to  "  destroy  the  law,"  and  that  the 
 medium  or  expedient  for  doing  this  was  the 
 sacrifice  of  His  only  Son,  as  an  atonement 
 or  satisfaction  to  public  justice  for  the  sins 
 of  men. 
 
 The  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God  were 
 substituted  in  the  room  of  the  execution  of 
 the  penalty  threatened  to  the  offender.  The 
 atonement  in  the  death  of  Christ  is  not  the 
 literal  enduring  of  the  identical  penalty 
 due  to  the  sinner ;  but  it  is  a  provision,  or 
 an  expedient,  introduced  instead  of  the 
 literal  course  of  suffering,  which  will  answer 
 the  same  purposes,  in  the  Divine  adminis- 
 trations, as  the  literal  execution  of  the 
 penalty  on  the  offender  himself  would 
 accomplish. 
 
 Had  Darius  found  any  person  willing  to 
 be  thrown  into  the  lions'  den  instead  of 
 Daniel,  and  literally  to  bear  the  penalty 
 threatened,  this  could  never  have  been 
 deemed  an  atonement  to  the  laws  of  the 
 Medes  and  the  Persians.  These  laws  had 
 never  contemplated  that  the  offender  should 
 have  the  option  of  bearing  the  penalty, 
 either  in  person  or  by  substitute.  It  would 
 have  been  a  much  more  likely  atonement 
 of  the  laws,  if  one  of  the  presidents  of  the 
 provinces,  one  high  in  the  esteem  of  the 
 king,  one  concerned  for  the  honour  of  the 
 government,  and  one  much  interested  in 
 Daniel,  had  consented,  either  to  lose  his 
 right  hand  on  a  public  scafibld,  or  to  fight 
 with  a  lion  in  an  amphitheatre,  for  the  sake 
 of  honorably  saving  Daniel.  In  that  case 
 one  class  of  suflFering  would  have  been 
 substituted  instead  of  inflicting  another 
 class.  Dr.  T.  W.  JenJcyn. 
 
 ATONEMENT  AND  SATISFACTION. 
 
 Satisfaction  is  the  more  specific  term; 
 atonement  is  the  reconciliation  of  God  to 
 vnan  by  the  death  of  His  Son.  Satisfaction 
 expresses  the  relation  which  the  work  of 
 Christ  sustains  to  the  demands  of  God's 
 law  and  justice.  A.  A,  Sudge. 
 
 AVARICE— Effects  of. 
 
 Avarice  isolates  man  from  the  great  uni- 
 verse and  the  holy  God,  deadens  the  sensi- 
 bilities to  the  highest  joys,  and  shuts  the  soul 
 up  in  its  own  dark  self,  the  victim  of  a  thou- 
 sand miserable  suspicions,  and  the  subject 
 of  attributes  that  every  generous  heart 
 must  loathe.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 AVARICE— Examples  of. 
 
 My  Lord  Hardwich,  the  late  Lord  Chan- 
 cellor, who  is  said  to  be  worth  £800,000, 
 sets  the  same  value  on  half  a  crown  now  as 
 he  did  when  he  was  worth  only  £100.  That 
 great  captain,  the  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
 when  he  was  in  the  last  stage  of  life,  and 
 very  infirm,  would  walk  from  the  public 
 room  in  Bath  to  his  lodgings,  on  a  cold 
 dark  night,  to  save  a  sixpence  in  chair 
 hire.  If  the  duke,  who  left  at  his  death 
 more  than  a  million  and  a  half  sterling, 
 could  have  foreseen  that  all  his  wealth  and 
 honours  were  to  be  inherited  by  a  grandson 
 of  my  Lord  Trevor's,  who  had  been  one  of 
 his  enemies,  would  he  have  always  saved  a 
 sixpence  ? 
 
 Sir  James  Lowther,  after  changing  a 
 piece  of  silver  in  George's  Coffee  House, 
 and  paying  for  his  dish  of  coflee,  was 
 helped  into  his  chariot  (for  he  was  lame 
 and  infirm)  and  went  home ;  some  time 
 after,  he  returned  to  the  same  coffee-house 
 on  purpose  to  acquaint  the  woman  who  kept 
 it,  that  she  had  given  him  a  bad  halfjjenny, 
 and  demanded  another  in  exchange  for  it. 
 Sir  James  had  about  £48,000  per  annum, 
 and  was  at  a  loss  whom  to  appoint  his  heir. 
 
 I  know  one  Sir  Thomas  Colby,  who  lived 
 in  Kensington,  and  was,  I  think,  in  the 
 Victualling  Office ;  he  killed  himself  by 
 rising  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  when  he 
 was  in  a  profuse  sweat,  the  etlect  of  a  me- 
 dicine which  he  had  taken  for  thai  purpose, 
 and  walking  down  stairs  to  look  for  the 
 key  of  his  cellar,  which  he  had  inad- 
 vertently left  on  a  table  in  his  parlour ;  he 
 was  apprehensive  that  his  servant  might 
 seize  the  key  and  rob  him  of  a  bottle  of 
 port  wine.  This  man  died  intestate,  and 
 left  more  than  £1,200,000  in  the  funds, 
 which  were  shared  among  five  or  six 
 day  labourers,  who  were  his  nearest  rela- 
 tions. 
 
 Sir  William  Smythe,  of  Bedfordshire,  was 
 my  own  kinsman.  Wlien  he  was  near 
 seventy,  he  was  wholly  deprived  of  sight ; 
 he  was  persuaded  to  be  couched  by  Taylor, 
 the  oculist,  who,  by  agreement,  was  to  have 
 sixty  guineas  if  he  restored  his  patient  to 
 any  degree  of  sight.  Taylor  succeeded  in 
 his  operation,  and  Sir  William  was  able  to 
 read  and  write  without  the  use  of  spec- 
 tacles during  the  rest  of  his  life ;  but  as 
 soon  as  the  operation  was  performed,  an^ 
 Sir  William  saw  the  good  efl'ect  of  it,  in 
 
AVARICE— BABY. 
 
 47 
 
 stead  of  being  overjoyed  as  any  other  per- 
 son would  have  been,  he  began  to  lament 
 the  loss  (as  he  called  it)  of  his  sixty 
 guineas.  His  contrivance,  therefore,  was 
 how  to  cheat  the  oculist;  he  pretended 
 he  could  not  see  anything  perfectly ;  for 
 that  reason  the  bandage  on  his  eye  was 
 continued  a  month  longer  than  the  usual 
 time.  By  this  means  he  obliged  Taylor  to 
 compound  the  bargain,  and  accept  of 
 twenty  guineas ;  for  a  covetous  man  thinks 
 no  method  dishonest  which  he  may  le- 
 gally practise  to  save  his  money.   Dr.  King. 
 
 AVARICE— Misery  of. 
 
 "  What  an  unfortunate  wretch  am  I !" 
 complained  a  miser  to  his  neighbour. 
 "  Some  one  last  night  has  taken  away  the 
 treasure  which  I  buried  in  the  garden  and 
 laid  a  cursed  stone  in  its  place."  "  And 
 yet  you  have  never  used  your  treasure," 
 answered  his  neighbour.  "  Only  bring 
 yourself  to  believe  that  the  stone  is  still 
 your  treasure,  and  you  are  none  the  poorer." 
 "If  I  am  none  the  poorer,"  returned  the 
 miser,  "is  not  some  one  else  the  richer? 
 The  thought  is  enough  to  di-ive  me  mad." 
 
 Frof.  Lessing. 
 AVARICE— Pretence  of, 
 
 "  There  are  those,"  as  our  Bromiard  ob- 
 serves, "  who  in  a  fair  pretence  of  mortifica- 
 tion, like  sonring  kites,  fly  up  from  earth 
 and  cry,  '  Fie,  fie  !'  in  their  flight,  as  if  they 
 scorned  these  lower  vanities,  and  yet,  when 
 they  have  done,  stoop  upon  the  first  car- 
 rion that  comes  in  their  eye."  False  Pha- 
 risees, that  under  the  colour  of  long 
 prayers  devour  widows'  houses ;  pharisaical 
 votaries,  that  under  colour  of  wilful 
 poverty  sweep  away  whole  countries  into 
 their  corban.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 AVARICE— Selfishness  of. 
 
 Had  covetous  men,  as  the  fiible  goes  of 
 Briareus,  each  of  them  one  hundred  hands, 
 they  would  all  of  them  be  employed  in 
 grasping  and  gathering,  and  hardly  one  of 
 them  in  giving  or  laying  out,  but  all  in  re- 
 ceiving, and  none  in  restoring ;  a  thing  in 
 itself  so  monstrous,  that  nothing  in  nature 
 besides  is  hke  it,  except  it  be  death  and  the 
 grave,  the  only  things  I  know  which  are 
 always  carrying  ofi'  the  spoils  of  the  world 
 and  never  making  restitution.  For  other- 
 wise, all  the  parts  of  the  universe,  as  they 
 borrow  of  one  another,  so  they  will  pay  what 
 they  borrow,  and  that  by  so  just  and  well 
 balanced  an  equality,  that  their  payments 
 always  keep  pace  with  their  receipts. 
 
 J.  JDryden. 
 
 B. 
 
 BABE— Comforts  of  a. 
 
 A  babe  in  a  house  is  a  well-spring  of  plea- 
 sure,  a  messenger  of  peace  and  love ; 
 
 A  resting  place  for  innocence  on  earth ;    a 
 link  between  angels  and  men  ; 
 
 Yet  is  it  a  talent  of  trust,  a  loan  to  be 
 rendered  back  with  interest ; 
 
 A  delight,  but  redolent  of  care ;   honey- 
 sweet,  but  lacking  not  the;  bitter. 
 
 M.  Tapper. 
 
 BABIES— Death  of. 
 
 'Twas  summer,  and  a  Sabbath  eve. 
 
 And  balmy  was  the  air ; 
 I  saw  a  sight  which  made  me  grieve — 
 And  yet  the  sight  was  fair — 
 Within  a  little  cofiin  lay 
 Two  lifeless  babes,  as  sweet  as  May. 
 Like  waxen  dolls  which  infants  dress, 
 
 Their  little  bodies  were ; 
 A  look  of  placid  happiness 
 Did  on  each  face  appear; 
 And  in  the  coffin  short  and  wide. 
 They  lay  together,  side  by  side. 
 A  rose-bud  nearly  closed  I  found 
 
 Each  little  hand  within  ; 
 And  many  a  pink  was  strew'd  around. 
 With  sprigs  of  jessamine; 
 And  yet  the  flowers  that  round  them  lay. 
 Were  not  to  me  more  fair  than  they. 
 Their  mother,  as  a  lily  pale, 
 
 Sat  by  them  on  a  bed — 
 And  bending  o'er  them,  told  her  tale. 
 And  many  a  tear  she  shed ; 
 Yet  oft  she  cried,  amidst  her  pain, 
 ''My  babes  and  I  shall  meet  again." 
 
 Br.  J.  Todd. 
 BABIES— Intellect  in. 
 
 It  is  well  for  us  that  we  are  born  babies 
 in  intellect.  Could  we  understand  half 
 what  mothers  say  and  do  to  their  infants, 
 we  should  be  filled  with  a  conceit  of  our 
 own  importance,  which  would  render  us 
 insupportable  through  life.  Happy  the 
 boy  whose  mother  is  tired  of  talking  non- 
 sense to  him,  before  he  is  old  enough  to 
 know  the  sense  of  it.  J.  C.  Hare. 
 
 BABY— Death  of  a. 
 
 The  baby  wept ; 
 The  mother  took  it  from  the  nurse's  arms. 
 And  soothed  its  grief,  and  stilled  its  vain 
 alarms. 
 And  baby  slept. 
 Again  it  weeps ; 
 And  God  doth  take  it  from  the  mother's 
 
 arms. 
 From  present  pain,  and  future  unknown 
 harms, 
 And  baby  sleeps.  Hinds. 
 
48 
 
 BAGKSLIDEB. 
 
 BACESLIDEE— Course  of  a. 
 
 As  the  fig-tree  began  to  wither  so  his 
 gifts  begin  to  paire,  as  if  a  worm  were 
 still  gnawing  at  them  :  his  judgment  rusts 
 like  a  sword  which  is  not  used  :  his  zeal 
 trembleth  as  though  it  were  in  a  palsie : 
 his  faith  withereth  as  though  it  were 
 blasted ;  and  the  image  of  death  is  upon  all 
 his  religion.  After  this,  he  thinketh  like 
 Samson  to  pray  as  he  did,  and  speak  as  he 
 did,  and  hath  no  power,  but  wondereth 
 like  Zedekiah  how  the  spirit  is  gone  from 
 him.  Now  when  the  good  Spirit  is  gone, 
 then  Cometh  the  spirit  of  blindness,  and  the 
 spirit  of  error,  and  the  spirit  of  fear ;  and 
 all  to  seduce  the  spirit  of  man.  After  this, 
 by  little  and  little  he  falls  into  error,  then 
 he  comes  unto  heresie,  at  last  he  plungeth 
 into  despair :  after  this  if  he  inquire,  God 
 will  not  suffer  him  to  learn :  if  he  read, 
 God  will  not  suffer  him  to  understand :  if 
 he  hear,  God  will  not  suffer  him  to  remem- 
 ber :  if  he  pray,  God  seemeth  unto  him  like 
 Baal,  which  could  not  hear :  at  last  he 
 beholdcth  his  wretchedness,  as  Adam 
 looked  upon  his  nakedness  ;  and  mourneth 
 for  his  giftsasRachel  wept  for  her  children, 
 because  they  were  not.  All  this  cometh  to 
 pass,  that  the  Scripture  might  be  fulfilled, 
 "  Whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be 
 taken  that  which  he  seemeth  to  have." 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 BACKSLIDER— Degradation  of  a. 
 
 It  is  a  just  matter  of  lamentation  when 
 souls  which  have  been  clad  with  zeal  as 
 with  scarlet,  constantly  forward  for  the 
 glory  of  God,  fall  to  such  apostasy  as  with 
 Demas  to  embrace  the  dunghill  of  this 
 world,  and  with  an  avarous  hausture  to 
 lick  up  the  mud  of  corruption.    T.  Adams. 
 
 BACKSLIDER— Lament  of  a. 
 
 Where  is  the  Saviour  now. 
 
 Whose  smiles  I  once  possess'd  ? 
 Till  He  return,  I  bow. 
 By  heavy  grief  oppress'd ; 
 My  days  of  happiness  are  gone. 
 And  I  am  left  to  weep  alone. 
 
 Where  can  the  mourner  go. 
 And  tell  his  tale  of  grief? 
 Ah,  who  can  soothe  his  woe. 
 Ah,  who  can  give  relief? 
 Earth  cannot  heal  the  wounded  breast 
 Or  give  the  troubled  conscience  rest. 
 Jesus,  Thy  smiles  impart ; 
 
 My  gracious  Lord,  return, 
 Bind  up  my  broken  heart. 
 And  bid  me  cease  to  mourn ; 
 Then  shall  this  night  of  sorrow  flee, 
 And  peace  in  heaven  be  found  in  Tliee. 
 Anon. 
 BACKSLIDER— Misery  of  a. 
 
 After  poor  Sabat,  an  Arabian,  who  had 
 
 professed  faith  in  Christ  by  the  means  of 
 the  labours  of  the  Rev.  H.  Martyn,  had 
 apostatised  from  Christianity,  and  wi-itten 
 in  favour  of  Mohammedanism,  he  was  met 
 at  Malacca  by  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Milne, 
 who  proposed  to  him  some  very  pointed 
 questions,  in  reply  to  which,  he  said,  "  I 
 am  unhappy  !  I  have  a  mountain  of  burning 
 sand  on  my  head.  When  I  go  about,  I 
 know  not  what  I  am  doing."  It  is  indeed 
 "  an  evil  thing  and  bitter  to  forsake  the 
 Lord  our  God."  W.  Nichohon. 
 
 Terrible  is  the  falling  away  of  any 
 who  make  profession  and  act  quite  con- 
 trary to  conviction.  A  lady  here  (Hud- 
 dersfield)  thus  relates  her  own  case. 
 "  Once  Mr.  —  and  I  were  both  in  the  right 
 way.  I  drew  him  into  the  world  again. 
 I  am  now  the  most  miserable  of  beings. 
 When  I  lie  down  I  fear  I  shall  awake  in 
 hell.  When  I  go  out  full  dressed,  and 
 seem  to  have  all  the  world  can  give  me,  I 
 am  ready  to  sink  under  the  terrors  of  my 
 own  mind.  What  greatly  increases  my 
 misery  is  the  remembrance  of  the  dying 
 speech  of  my  own  sister,  who  told  me  she 
 had  stifled  convictions  and  obstinately 
 fought  against  light  to  enjoy  the  company 
 of  the  world.  '  Sister,'  said  she,  '  I  die 
 without  hope.  Beware  this  be  not  your 
 case  ! '  '  But,  indeed,'  said  Mrs.  — ,  '  I 
 fear  it  will.'  "  C,  Venn. 
 
 BACKSLIDER— Reflection  of  a. 
 Sweet  was  the  time  when  first  I  felt 
 
 The  Saviour's  pard'ning  blood 
 Applied  to  cleanse  my  soul  from  guilt. 
 
 And  bring  me  home  to  God. 
 Soon  as  the  morn  the  light  reveal'd. 
 
 His  praises  tuned  my  tongue ; 
 And  when  the  evening  shades  prevail'd. 
 
 His  love  was  all  my  song. 
 
 In  prayer  my  soul  drew  near  the  Lord, 
 
 And  saw  His  glory  shine  ; 
 And  when  I  read  His  holy  Word, 
 
 I  called  each  promise  mine. 
 But  now,  when  evening  shade  prevails, 
 
 My  soul  in  darkness  mourns ; 
 And  when  the  morn  the  light  reveals. 
 
 No  light  to  me  returns.         J.  Newton, 
 
 BACKSLIDER— State  of  a. 
 
 As  David  crieth.  How  are  the  mighty 
 overthrown,  we  may  mourn  and  say.  How 
 are  the  zealous  cooled,  how  are  the  diligent 
 tired !  They  vvhich  should  season  others 
 are  become  like  the  white  of  an  egg  which 
 hath  no  taste  :  once  they  seemed  to  have 
 fruit,  but  now  they  are  not  hanged  with 
 leaves.  As  God  cried  unto  Adam.  "  Adam, 
 where  art  thou  ?"  so  they  may  cry :  Zeal, 
 where  art  thou  ?  Learning,  where  art  thou  ? 
 Conscience,  where  art  thou  ?  Love,  where 
 art  thou  ?     They  which  sinned   like   the 
 
BACKSLIDING. 
 
 sun,  when  they  rose,  seem  now  to  be 
 eclipsed  of  their  liglit.  The  workl  hath 
 won  the  flesh,  the  flesh  hath  won  the 
 spirit,  and  Jordan  is  turned  back. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Avoidance  of. 
 
 To  avoid  this  state  or  recover  from  it, 
 we  should  beware  of  the  first  appearance 
 of  sin ;  be  much  in  prayer ;  attend  the 
 ordinances ;  and  unite  with  the  people  of 
 God.  We  should  consider  the  awful  in- 
 stances of  apostacy,  as  Saul,  Judas,  Demas, 
 &c. ;  the  many  warnings  we  have  of  it 
 (Matt,  xxiv,  13  ;  Heb.  x,  38;  Luke  ix,  62); 
 how  it  grieves  the  Holy  Spirit;  and  how 
 wretched  it  makes  us ;  above  all  things, 
 our  dependence  should  be  on  God,  that  we 
 n]ay  always  be  directed  by  His  Spirit  and 
 kept  by  His  power.  C.  Buck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Causes  of. 
 
 Was  it  the  spirit  of  sloth  that  seized 
 you  ?  Did  y(nx  shrink  from  the  eff'ort  of 
 continued  resistance  to  evil,  and  of  prayer- 
 ful watchfulness  against  your  own  insidious 
 sin  ?  Was  it  self-complacency  which  took 
 possession  of  your  heart  ?  Was  it  anger 
 that  seized  and  shook  you  in  its  petulant 
 grasp  because  you  were  not  appreciated  by 
 your  fellows,  because  you  were  mortified  at 
 the  hollow  preference  given  to  inferior 
 men,  because  your  envied  pre-eminence 
 was  denied  you,  because  your  efforts  to  do 
 good  were  met  with  prejudice  or  re])elled 
 with  scorn  ?  Was  it  the  spirit  of  indiffer- 
 ence which  exhausted  your  recent  energy  ? 
 Had  you  entered  upon  a  work  too  high  for 
 you,  demanding  sacrifices  which  your 
 heroism  knew  not  how  to  reach,  and  im- 
 posing restraints  against  which  your  pas- 
 sions fretted  in  rebellion  ?  Were  your 
 convictions  superficial,  unrealising  things, 
 that  touched  the  surface  of  your  nature, 
 but  that  left  the  depths  within,  mere 
 rousings  of  a  narrow  and  selfish  fear,  but 
 not  an  earthquake  that  shook  to  the  very 
 centre  of  the  soul  ?  Alas  !  from  these,  and 
 many  similar  causes,  how  many  have 
 rested  in  the  luxuriant  arbour  of  their 
 ease  until  they  have  lost  their  roll,  or  en- 
 tangled themselves  in  the  skilful  toils  of 
 the  flatterer,  or  lain  down  in  troubled  and 
 almost  hopeless  slumber  upon  the  world's 
 enchanted  giound !  W.  M.  Fu7ishon. 
 
 The  cares  of  the  world;  improper  con- 
 nections; inattention  to  secret  or  closet 
 duties;  self-conceit  and  dependence;  in- 
 dulgence ;  listening  to  and  parleying  with 
 temptations.  C.  Buck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Consequences  of. 
 
 Loss  of  character  ;  loss  of  comfort ;  loss 
 of  usefulness ;  and,  as  long  as  any  remain 
 
 in  this  state,  a  loss  o( a. well-ground ec^\^o\^Q 
 of  future  happiness.  C.  Buck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Dangerous. 
 
 We  find  in  Scripture  many  desperately 
 sick,  yet  cured  the  first  time  by  our  Saviour; 
 but  where  do  we  read,  in  all  the  Scripture, 
 where  in  all  the  Gospel,  of  any  blind  man's 
 eyes  twice  enlightened  ?  of  any  deaf  ears 
 twice  opened ;  of  any  tied  tongue  twice 
 loosened?  of  any  possessed  with  devils  twice 
 dispossessed  ?  of  any  dead  twice  raised  ? 
 No  doubt  but  that  Christ  could  have  done 
 it,  but  we  read  not  that  ever  He  did  it,  the 
 reason  that  we  should  be  most  careful  to 
 avoid  relapses  into  former  sins,  the  re- 
 covery whereof  is  very  uncertain,  always 
 difficult,  and,  in  some  cases  (as  the  apostle 
 teacheth),  impossible.  Spencer. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Degrees  in. 
 
 A  Christian  never  fulls  suddenly  from  an 
 advanced  Christian  life  to  barrenness  or 
 open  sin.  The  stages  in  the  descent  are 
 slow,  and  often  almost  imperceptible.  The 
 little  foxes  spoil  the  vines.  Little  negli- 
 gences of  duty  bring  darkness  on  the  soul, 
 and  eat  out  its  spiritual  joy.  Little  temp- 
 tations betray  it  to  the  power  of  the  enemy. 
 By  gradual  departures  from  God,  and  little 
 indulgences  in  sin,  one  at  length  falls  into 
 total  backsliding  and  apostacy.  The  follow, 
 ing  may  serve  as  an  admonitory  list  of  the 
 steps  taken  in  the  downw  ard  path  : 
 
 1.  Neglect  of  secret  prayer. — Job  xv,  4. 
 
 2.  Disregard  of  the  Bible. — Jer.  vi,  19; 
 Hosea  iv,  6. 
 
 3.  Forsaking  the  means  of  grace. — Neh. 
 X,  39  ;  Heb.  x,  25. 
 
 4.  Worldly -mindedness. — 2  Tim.  iv,  10; 
 
 1  John  ii,  16. 
 
 5.  Levity  in  conversation. — Eph.  v,  4; 
 
 2  Peter  iii,  11. 
 
 6.  A  quarrelsome  spirit. — Isaiah  xxix, 
 21 ;  1  Cor.  iii,  3. 
 
 7.  Dw(!lling  on  the  faults  of  others. — 
 Matt,  vii,  3—5. 
 
 8.  Readiness  to  take  offence. — Prov.  xiv. 
 17—19. 
 
 9.  A  murmuring,  repining  sph-it.  —  ] 
 Cor.  X,  10;  Philip,  ii,  14. 
 
 10.  A  critical  hearing  of  the  Word. — 
 1  Cor.  iii,  4 ;  2  Tim.  iv,  3. 
 
 11.  Covetousness. — Luke  xii,  15;  Col. 
 iii,  5. 
 
 12.  Light  thoughts  of  sin. — 1  Kings 
 xvi,  41 ;  Matt,  xxii,  5. 
 
 13.  Intemperance. — Prov.  xxii,  29 — 32. 
 
 14.  Love  of  pre-eminence. — Prov.  xvi, 
 18  ;    3  John  9,  10. 
 
 15.  Indulgence  in  secret  sin. — Num. 
 xxxii,  23 ;  Eccles.  xii,  14. 
 
 16.  Falling  into  outward  sin. — Prov. 
 xiv,  4;  Hosea  iv,  17. 
 
 17.  Into  scoffnig  and  infidelity. — 2  Peter 
 iii,  3. 
 
50 
 
 BACKSLIDING. 
 
 ]B.  PLrf-ccutIng  the  righteous. — Acts 
 vii,  52. 
 
 ]'J.  An  awful  death.— Prov.  xiv,  32. 
 20.  Final  Peudition. — Matt,  xxv,  41. 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 
 BACKSIIDING-Gradual. 
 
 We  warn  you  against  little  conceHsions, 
 little  arriuicHcenceH,  little  indulgences,  little 
 conformities.  Each  may  only  destroy  the 
 millionth  part  of  the  velocity  ;  hut  this 
 destruction  of  a  millionth  has  only  to  he 
 j)erpetunlly  refieated,  nnd  the  planet's 
 inarch  is  arre-itcd,  and  its  lustre  is 
 quenched.  If  vital  religion  he  driven  out 
 of  the  soul,  it  will  he  as  the  Canaatiii.es 
 were  to  he  driven  hefore  the  Israelites, 
 "  hy  little  and  little."  R.  MelvilL 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Nature  of. 
 
 Hacksliding  is  the  act  of  turning  from 
 the  path  of  duty.  It  may  he  considered 
 as  partial  when  applied  to  true  hf^lievers, 
 who  do  not  haekslide  with  the  whole  hent 
 of  their  will ;  as  voluntary,  when  ajiplied 
 to  those  wIk),  after  professing  to  know  the 
 truth,  wilfully'  turn  from  it.  and  live  in 
 the  practice  of  sin  ;  as  final,  when  the 
 mind  is  given  up  to  judicial  hardness,  as 
 ii!  the  case  of  Judas.  I'arlial  hackulidinfj 
 must  he  distinguished  from  hypocrisy,  as 
 the  former  may  exist  when  there  are 
 griicious  intentions  on  the  whole;  hut  the 
 latter  is  a  studied  profession  of  appearing 
 to  he  what  we  are  not.  C.  Buck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Punishment  of. 
 
 HIiimA  was  a  man  condemned  to  Vleatli 
 (1  Kings  ii,  26).  It  is  likely  some  courtiers 
 of  Solomon  got  him  his  pardon  ;  the  king 
 grants  it,  hut  rccpiires  this  one  thing  of 
 him,  that  he  should  huild  him  a  house  in 
 Jerusalem  and  dwell  th(;re,  and  go  not 
 from  thence  any  whither;  anfl  fulfilling 
 this  condition,  without  all  peradventure  he 
 might  have  lived  happily  and  safe  as  the 
 hest  of  his  neighhours ;  hut  when  he  must 
 needs  he  running  after  his  servants,  and 
 ])refer  a  small  advantage  hefore  jjerjjetual 
 safety,  he  justly  suffers  the  punishment  the 
 king  a]i])ointed  for  him. 
 
 The  Son  of  (Jod  hy  the  hlood  of  His 
 cross  hath  in  truth  gotten  all  Christians 
 their  pardon,  hut  is  resolved  none  shall 
 enjoy  it  hut  those  that  will  forsake  their 
 sins  and  resign  themselves  to  His  guidance 
 and  direction.  A  reasonahle  demand,  a 
 condition  so  equitahle,  so  just,  so  easy, 
 that  no  man  in  his  wits  hut  must  say  as 
 ■Shiiiiei  unto  Solomon,  "The  saying  is  good, 
 as  my  lord  the  king  has  said,  so  will  thy 
 servant  do."  IJut  then,  if  the  pardon  the 
 Son  of  God  hath  ohtained  for  them  appear 
 80  inconsidcrahle  a  thing  in  their  eyes  that 
 they  do  not  think  it  worth  enjoying  (and 
 certainly  they  do  not  think  it  worth  enjoy- 
 
 ing that  will  not  agree  to  so  reasonahle  a 
 condition)  no  marvel  if  they  fall  a  y)rey  to 
 that  wrath  from  which  the  Son  of  God  is 
 ready  to  deliver  them;  and  if  their  hlood 
 he  upon  their  heads  that  do  despite  unto 
 the  Spirit  of  Grace,  and  count  the  hlood  of 
 the  Covenant,  wherewith  they  were  to  be 
 sanctified,  an  unholy  thing — an  affront  so 
 great  that  no  ordinary  vengeance  can 
 ex))iate  it ;  and  should  God  ask  them,  as 
 the  prophet  Nathan  did  David,  what  pun- 
 ishment tliey  thonselves  thought  fit  for 
 such  offenders  (provided  they  did  not  know 
 that  they  were  the  persons  concerned)  they 
 would  no  doubt,  doom  themselves  to  as 
 great  if  not  greater  plagues  than  God  in- 
 tends to  inflict  u[)(m  them. 
 
 When  Amuralh,  emperor  of  the  Turks, 
 had  notice  given  him  that  a  Doctor  of  Law 
 had  cheated  a  y)oor  pilgrim  that  was  gone 
 to  Mecca,  and  at  the  man's  rctui-n  would 
 not  restore  to  him  the  jewels  he  had  en- 
 trusted with  him,  hut  resolutely  denied 
 that  he  had  received  any  such  things  from 
 him,  the  emperor  one  day,  in  a  third 
 person,  asked  the  doctor  what  he  thought 
 a  man  that  had  notoriously  betrayed  his 
 trust  might  justly  deserve,  he  answered, 
 "It  w.as  fit  that  so  notorious  a  villain 
 should  be  pounded  alive  in  a  mortar."  He 
 had  no  sor)ner  said  the  word  but  the 
 emjieror  gave  order  that  so  it  should  ho 
 done  to  him  who  had  so  notoriously  cozened 
 the  ])Oor  ])ilgriin.  Dr.  A.  Horneck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Signs  of. 
 
 Indifference  to  prayer  and  self-exami- 
 nation; trifling  or  unprofitable  conver- 
 sation ;  neglect  of  public  ordinances ; 
 shunning  the  people  of  God ;  associating 
 with  the  world  ;  thinking  lightly  of  sin  ; 
 neglect  of  the  Ijil)le  ;  and  often  gross  im- 
 morality. C.  Buck. 
 
 BACKSLIDING— Voluntary. 
 
 (Jod  does  not  ))re(lestinate  man  to  fail. 
 That  is  strikingly  told  in  the  history  ol" 
 Judas.  "From  a  ministry  and  apostleship 
 Judas  fell,  that  he  might  go  to  his  own 
 place."  The  ministry  and  ajiostleship 
 were  that  to  which  God  had  destined  him. 
 To  work  out  that,  was  the  destiny  ap- 
 pointed to  him,  as  truly  as  to  any  of  the 
 other  apostles.  He  was  called,  elected  to 
 that,  hut  when  h*'.  refused  to  execute  that 
 mission,  the  very  circumstances  which,  by 
 God's  decree,  were  leading  him  to  blessed- 
 ness, hurried  him  to  ruin.  Circumstances 
 prejiared  by  eternal  love  became  the  destiny 
 wiiich  conducted  him  to  everlasting  doom. 
 He  was  a  predestined  man— crushed  by 
 his  fate.  Hut  lie  went  to  his  oion  place. 
 He  liad  sliaped  his  own  destiny.  So  the 
 ship  is  wrecked  by  the  winds  and  waves — 
 hurried  to  its  fate.  Hut  the  wind  and 
 waves    were    in   truth    its    liest    friends. 
 
BAPTISM— BAPTISMAL. 
 
 51 
 
 Eifchtly  guided,  it  would  have  made  nse 
 of  them  to  reach  the  port ;  wrongly  steered, 
 they  hec;ime  the  destiny  which  drove  it  on 
 the  rocks.  Failure — the  wreck  of  life,  is 
 not  to  he  impiously  traced  to  the  will  of 
 God.  God  will  have  all  men  to  he  saved, 
 and  come  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
 God  willeth  not  the  death  of  a  sinner. 
 
 F.  W.  Eohertson. 
 
 BAPTISM— Definitions  of. 
 
 I5a]itism  is  a  sacrament,  wherein  the 
 washing  with  water  in  tlie  name  of  the 
 Father,  and  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 doth  signify  and  seal  our  ingrafting  into 
 Christ,  and  our  partaking  of  the  henefits  of 
 the  covenant  of  grace,  and  our  engagement 
 to  he  the  Lord's.      Westminster  Catechism. 
 
 Bi'ptism  attaches  us  to  the visihle Church, 
 admits  to  that,  and  is  its  door  of  entrance; 
 hut,  while  this  ordinancre  unites  the  reci- 
 pient to  the  hody  of  professing  behevers, 
 no  more  than  the  sacrament  of  the  supper 
 does  it  of  necessity  form  a  living  attach- 
 ment between  us  and  the  Saviour. 
 
 Dr,  T.  Guthrie. 
 
 BAPTISM— Design  of. 
 
 1.  Primarilt/,  to  signify,  seal,  and  convey 
 to  those  to  whom  they  belong,  the  benefits 
 of  the  covenant  of  grace.  Thus— (1)  It 
 symbolises  "  the  washing  of  regeneration," 
 "  tlie  renewing  of  the  Holy  Gliost,"  which 
 unites  the  believer  to  Christ,  and  so  makes 
 him  a  piirticipant  in  Christ's  life  and  all 
 other  benefits  (1  Cor.  xii,  13;  Gal.  iii.  27; 
 Titus  iii,  5).  (2)  Christ  herein  visibly  seals 
 His  promises  to  those  who  receive  it  with 
 faith,  and  invests  them  with  the  grace 
 promised. 
 
 2.  Its  design  was,  secondarily,  as  spring- 
 ing from  the  former — (1)  To  be  a  visible 
 sign  of  our  covenant  to  be  the  Lord's,  i.  e., 
 to  accept  His  salvation,  and  to  consecrate 
 ourselves  to  His  service.  (2)  And  hence  to 
 be  a  badge  of  our  public  profession,  our 
 separation  from  the  world,  and  our  initia- 
 ticm  into  the  visible  Church.  As  a  badge, 
 it  marks  us  as  belonging  to  the  Lord,  and 
 consequently  distinguishes  us  from  the 
 world;  symbolises  our  union  with  our  fellow- 
 Christians  (1  Cor.  xii,  13),      A.  A.  Rodge. 
 
 BAPTISM— does  not  Save. 
 
 It  is  a  happy  thing  that  baptism  is  not 
 the  door  to  heaven.  Otherwise  it  had 
 been  unhappy  for  millions,  who,  dying  in 
 earliest  infancy,  never  undergo  that  rite — 
 never  pass  on  that  way.  Dying  unbaptizcd, 
 we  hold  not  that  they  die  on  that  account 
 unsaved;  for  whoever  dare  hang  God's 
 mercy  on  any  outward  rite,  we  do  not,  and 
 although  we  believe  that  this  interesting 
 ordinance  is  also,  when  engaged  in  with 
 faith,  an  eminently  blessed  one,  we  dare 
 
 not.     Thousands    go  to  heaven    without 
 
 baptism.     Thousands,  alas!  perish  with  it. 
 
 Dr.  T.  Outhrie. 
 
 BAPTISMAL  REGENEP.ATION— Not  true. 
 
 Wo  acknowledge  no  authority  in  these 
 matters  but  the  word  of  God.  And  there 
 I  can  discover  no  foundation  for  the  idea, 
 that  baptism  and  salvation — baptism  and 
 regeneration — are  necessarily  linked  toge- 
 ther, or  in  any  respect  inseparably  con- 
 nected. AVere  it  so,  baptism  were  the 
 highest,  holiest  ordinance  of  God.  Had  it 
 been  so,  surely  it  is  not  reasonable  to  sup- 
 pose that  our  Lord  would  have  left  a  rite 
 of  such  transcendental  importance  to  be 
 administered  in  every  case  by  inferiors — by 
 the  hands  of  His  servants.  Were  baptism 
 identified  with  regeneration  and  the  "  new 
 creature,"  would  the  apostle  Paul,  who 
 gloried  in  preaching,  have  spoken  of  it  as 
 an  inferior  ordinance  ?  He  declared  witl. 
 manifest  satisfiiction  that  he  had- not  been 
 sent  to  baptize  but  to  preach ;  and,  leaving 
 the  administration  of  the  rite  to  his  in- 
 feriors, he  even  thanked  God  that,  with 
 two  exceptions,  he  had  baptized  none  of 
 them.  Besides,  do  the  cases,  for  instance, 
 of  Simon  Magus  and  the  Ethiopian  lend 
 any  sanction  to  this  theory  of  baptismal 
 power  ?     Assuredly  not. 
 
 [The  one  After  })aptism  proved  himself 
 to  be  in  the  gall  of  bitterness  and  the  bond 
 of  iniquity  ;  the  other  proved  himself  to  he 
 a  Christian  before  his  baptism,  by  believing 
 with  all  his  heart  that  "  Jesus  Christ  was 
 the  Sop  of  God."] 
 
 Besides,  does  not  the  sad  and  melancholy 
 history  of  thousands  prove  that  the  outward 
 ordinance  is  often  administered  without 
 any  corresponding  administration  of  re- 
 newing grace  ?  The  altar  and  the  offering 
 are  there,  but  no  fire  descends  from  heaven 
 on  the  sacrifice.  Grant  that  in  our  case 
 and  in  that  of  any  other  such  church  as 
 ours,  the  cause  of  the  failure  is  to  be  found 
 in  our  lack  of  apostolic  succession;  grant 
 that  in  our  case  the  water,  if  not  actually 
 polluted  by  unconsecrated  hands,  is  de- 
 prived of  ail  virtue  by  the  channel  through 
 which  it  flows;  grant  that  we  have  no 
 commission  to  baptize,  and  that  therefore 
 what  we  do  in  such  holy  offices  is  null  and 
 void ;  grant  the  relevancy  of  all  these 
 allegations  (each  and  all  of  which  we  deny) 
 — is  it  not  an  undeniable  and  melancholy 
 fact  that  the  lives  of  persons  in  all  churches, 
 even  the  most  transcendental  in  their  claims, 
 demonstrate  that  many  are  baptized  with 
 water  who  have  never  experienced  the 
 baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  The  question, 
 therefore,  that  we  would  urge  on  your  most 
 serious  consideration  does  not  concern  the 
 sign  but  the  thing  signified.  If  you  have 
 got  the  living  element,  I  care  little  or 
 nothing  through  what  church,  or  by  what 
 
52 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 channel  it  may  flow.  Have  you  got  the 
 living  grace  of  God  ?  In  the  words  of  an 
 apostle,  "  Have  ve  received  the  Holy 
 Ghost  ?"  '  Dr.  T.  Guthrie. 
 
 BEAUTY— Bodily. 
 
 That  is  not  the  most  perfect  heanty, 
 which,  in  public,  would  attract  the  greatest 
 observation ;  nor  even  that  which  the 
 statuary  would  admit  to  be  a  faultless 
 piece  of  clay,  kneaded  up  with  blood.  But 
 that  is  true  beauty,  which  has  not  only  a 
 substance,  but  a  spirit, — a  beauty  that  we 
 must  intimately  know,  justly  to  appreciate, 
 — a  beauty  lighted  up  in  conversation, 
 where  the  mind  shines  as  it  were  through 
 its  casket,  where,  in  the  language  of  the 
 poet,  "the  eloquent  blood  spoke  in  her 
 cheeks,  and  so  distinctly  wrought,  that  we 
 might  almost  say  her  body  thought."  An 
 order  and  a  mode  of  beauty  which,  the  more 
 we  know,  the  more  we  accuse  ourselves  for 
 not  having  before  discovered  those  thousand 
 graces  which  bespeak  that  their  owner  has  a 
 soul.  This  is  that  beauty  which  never  cloys, 
 possessing  charms  as  resistless  as  those  of 
 the  fascinating  Egyptian,  for  which  An- 
 tony wisely  paid  the  bauble  of  a  world, — a 
 beauty  like  the  rising  of  his  own  Italian  suns, 
 always  enchanting,  never  the  same. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 
 -BEAUTY— Danger  of. 
 
 Gaze  not  on  beauty  too  much,  lest  it 
 blast  thee;  nor  too  long,  lest  it  blind 
 thee;  nor  too  near,  lest  it  burn  thee. 
 If  thou  like  it,  it  deceives  thee;  if  thou 
 love  it,  it  disturbs  thee;  if  thou  hunt 
 after  it,  it  destroys  thee.  If  virtue  ac- 
 company it,  it  is  the  heart's  paradise ;  if 
 vice  associate  it,  it  is  the  soul's  purgatory. 
 It  is  the  wise  man's  bonfii-e,  and  the  fool's 
 furnace.  F.  Quarles. 
 
 BEAUTY— Death  destroys. 
 
 I  saw  a  dew-drop,  cool  and  clear. 
 
 Dance  on  a  myrtle  spray  ; 
 Fair  colours  deck'd  the  lucid  tear, 
 Like  those  which  gleam  and  disappear 
 
 When  showers  ijnd  sunbeams  play  : 
 Sol  cast  athwart  a  glance  severe. 
 
 And  scorch'd  the  pearl  away. 
 
 High  on  a  slender  polish'd  stem, 
 
 A  fragrant  lily  grew: 
 On  the  pure  petals  many  a  gem 
 Glittered,  a  native  diadem 
 
 Of  healthy  morning  dew ; — 
 A  blast  of  lingering  winter  came. 
 
 And  snapped  the  stem  in  two. 
 
 Fairer  than  morning's  early  tear. 
 
 Or  lily's  snowy  bloom. 
 Is  beauty  in  its  vernal  year ; 
 Gay,  brilliant,  fascinating,  clear, 
 
 And  thoughtless  of  its  doom  ! 
 
 Death  breathes  a  sudden  poison  near, 
 And  sweeps  it  to  the  tomb. 
 
 /.  S.  M.  Anderson. 
 
 BEAUTY— Description  of. 
 
 Beauty  is  as  crystal  in  tlie  torchlight,  spark- 
 ling on  the  poet's  page ; 
 
 Virgin  honey  of  Hymettus,  distilled  from 
 the  lips  of  the  orator  ; 
 
 A  savour  of  sweet  spikenard,  anointing  the 
 hands  of  liberality ; 
 
 A  feast  of  angels'  food  set  upon  the  tables 
 of  religion. 
 
 She  is  seen  in  the  tear  of  sorrow,  and  heard 
 in  the  exuberance  of  mirth  ; 
 
 She  goeth  out  early  with  the  huntsman,  and 
 watcheth  at  the  pillow  of  disease. 
 
 Science,  in  his  secret  laws,  hath  found  out 
 latent  beauty. 
 
 Sphere  and  square,  and  cone  and  curve,  are 
 fashioned  by  her  rules ; 
 
 Mechanism  met  her  in  his  forces,  fancy 
 caught  her  in  its  flittings, 
 
 Day  is  lightened  by  her  eyes,  and  her  eye- 
 lids close  upon  the  night.  M.  Tapper. 
 
 BEAUTY— Fading  of. 
 
 Fragrant  the  rose,  but  soon  it  fades  away; 
 The  violet  sweet,  but  quickly  will  decay ; 
 The  lily  fair  a  transient  beauty  wears ; 
 And  the  white  snow  soon  weeps  away  in 
 
 tears : 
 Such  is  the  bloom  of  beauty,  cropt  by  time. 
 Full  soon  it  fades,  and  withers  in  its  prime. 
 Theocritus. 
 
 BEAUTY— Power  of. 
 
 How  many  monarchs,  after  they  had 
 with  horror  terrified  the  world,  have  been 
 seen  to  become  tributaries  to  a  mortal 
 beauty  !  Bathsheba  was  neither  a  lion,  a 
 Goliath,  nor  a  Saul,  yet,  notwithstanding, 
 with  the  glance  of  an  eye  she  powerfully 
 quelled  him  who  tore  lions,  trampled 
 Goliath  under  feet,  and  resisted  all  the 
 arms,  power,  and  legions  of  Saul.  The 
 Philistines  found  not  cords  strong  enough 
 to  bind  robustious  Samson,  yet  Delilah 
 quickly  captivated,  and  fast  tied  him,  with 
 one  hair  of  her  head.  Solomon  had  a  heart 
 as  deep  as  the  sea,  yet  woman  found  the 
 bottom  of  it.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 There  is  none  enchantment  against  beauty, 
 
 Magician  for  all  time, 
 Whose   potent  spells   of    sympathy   have 
 
 charmed  the  passive  world ; 
 Verily,  she  reigneth  a  Semiramis ;  there  is 
 
 no  might  against  her ; 
 The  lords  of  every  land  are  harnessed  to 
 
 her  triumph. 
 Beauty  is  conqueror  of  all,  nor  ever  yet 
 
 was  found  among  the  nations 
 That  iron-moulded  mind,  full  proof  against 
 
 her  power. 
 
BEAUTY. 
 
 53 
 
 Beauty,  like  a  summer's  day,  subdueth  by 
 
 sweet  influences ; 
 Who  can  wrestle  against  sleep? — yet  is  that 
 
 giant  very  gentleness.  M.  Tiipper. 
 
 BEAUTY— Short-lived. 
 
 Beauty  is  like  an  almanack  :  if  it  last  a 
 year  it  is  well.  T.  Adams. 
 
 BEAUTY— Spiritual. 
 
 There  is  a  certain  period  of  the  soul- 
 culture  when  it  begins  to  interfere  with 
 some  of  the  characters  of  tyjiical  beauty 
 belonging  to  the  bodily  frame,  the  stirring 
 of  the  intellect  wearing  down  the  flesh,  and 
 the  moral  enthusiasm  burning  its  way  out 
 to  heaven,  through  the  emaciation  of  the 
 earthen  vessel ;  and  there  is,  in  this  indi- 
 cation of  subduing  the  mortal  by  the  im- 
 mortal part,  an  ideal  glory  of  perhaps  a 
 purer  and  higher  range  than  that  of  the 
 more  perfect  material  form.  We  conceive, 
 I  think,  more  nobly  of  the  weak  presence 
 of  Paul,  than  of  the  fair  and  ruddy  counte- 
 nance of  David.  J.  liuskin. 
 
 BEAUTY— True  and  false. 
 
 Hearing  a  young  lady  highly  praised  for 
 her  beauty,  Gotthokl  asked  :  What  kind  of 
 beauty  do  you  mean  ?  Merely  that  of  the 
 body,  or  that  also  of  the  mind  ?  I  see  well 
 that  you  have  been  looking  no  further  than 
 the  sign  which  nature  displays  outside  the 
 house,  but  have  never  asked  for  the  host 
 who  dwells  ■within.  Beauty  is  .an  excellent 
 gift  of  God,  not  has  the  pen  of  the  Holy 
 Spirit  forgotten  to  speak  its  praise  ;  but 
 it  is  virtuous  and  godly  beauty  alone  which 
 Scripture  lionours,  expressly  declaring,  on 
 the  other  hand,  that  a  fair  woman  which 
 is  without  discretion,  is  as  a  jewel  of  gold 
 in  a  swine's  snout  (Prov.  xi,  22).  Many  a 
 pretty  girl  is  like  the  flower  called  the 
 imperial  crown,  which  is  admired,  no  doubt, 
 for  its  showy  appearance,  but  despised  for 
 its  unpleasant  odour.  Were  her  mind  as 
 free  from  pride,  selfishness,  luxury,  and 
 levity,  as  her  countenance  from  spots  and 
 wrinkles;  and  could  she  govern  her  in- 
 ward inclinations  as  she  does  her  external 
 carriage,  she  would  have  none  to  match 
 her.  But  who  loves  the  caterpillar,  and 
 such  insects,  however  showy  their  appear- 
 ance, and  bright  and  vai  legated  the  colours 
 that  adorn  them,  seeing  they  injure  and 
 defile  the  trees  and  plants  en  which  they 
 settle  ?  What  the  better  is  an  apple  ibr 
 its  rosy  skin,  if  the  maggot  have  penetrated 
 and  devoured  its  heart  ?  What  care  I  for 
 the  beautiful  brown  of  the  nut,  if  it  be 
 worm-eaten,  and  fill  the  mouth  with  cor- 
 ruption ?  Even  so,  external  beauty  of 
 person  deserves  no  praise,  unless  matched 
 with  the  inward  beauty  of  virtue  and 
 holiness.  It  is  therefore,  far  better  to 
 acquire  beauty  than  to  be  born  with.  it.  The 
 
 best  kind  is  that  which  does  not  wither  at 
 the  touch  of  fever,  like  a  flower,  but  lasts 
 and  endures  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  in  old 
 age,  and  even  at  death. 
 
 My  God!  my  beauty  exists  only  in  the 
 sunshine  of  Thy  grace.  Without  light, 
 nothing  is  beautiful,  and,  unless  irradiated 
 by  Thy  goodness,  every  object  is  ugly  and 
 hideous.  Lord  Jesus  !  Thou  fairest  of  the 
 sons  of  men,  shed  on  my  poor  soul  the 
 beams  of  Thy  love  ;  that  is  all  the  beauty  I 
 desire.  Gotthokl. 
 
 BEAUTY— Truth  in. 
 
 Oh,  how  much  more  doth  beauty  beauteous 
 seem. 
 By  that   sweet   ornament  which   truth 
 doth  give  ! 
 The  rose  is  fair,  but  fairer  we  it  deem, 
 For  that  sweet  odour  which  doili  in  it 
 live.  ShakesjJeare. 
 
 BEAUTY— Universality  of. 
 
 For  beauty  hideth  everywhere,  that  Reason's 
 
 child  may  seek  her, 
 And  having  found  the  gem  of  price,  may 
 
 set  it  in  God's  crown. 
 Beauty  nestleth  in  the  rosebud,  or  walketh 
 
 the  firmament  with  planets ; 
 She  is  heard-in  the  beetle's  evening  hymn, 
 
 and  shouteth  in  the  matins  of  the  sun ; 
 The  cheek  of  the  peach  is  glowing  with  her 
 
 smile,  her   splendour  blazeth  iu   the 
 
 lightning  ; 
 She  is  the  dryad  of  the  woods,  the  naiad  of 
 
 the  streams ; 
 Her  golden  hair  hath  tapestried  the  silk- 
 worm's silent  chamber. 
 And  to  her  measured  harmonies  the  wild 
 
 waves  beat  in  time  ; 
 With  tinkling  feet  at  eventide  she  danceth 
 
 in  the  meadow, 
 Or,  like   a   Titan,  lieth  stretched  athwart 
 
 the  ridgy  Alps ; 
 She  is  rising  in  her  veil  of  mist  a  Venus 
 
 from  the  waters, — 
 Men  gaze  upon  the  loveliness, — and  lo,  it 
 
 is  beautiful  exceedingly  : 
 She,  with  the  might  of  a  Briareus,  is  drag- 
 ging down  the  clouds  upon  the  moun- 
 tain,— 
 Men  look  upon  the  grandeur, — and  lo,  it  is 
 
 excellent  in  glory. 
 There  is  beauty  in  the  rolling  clouds,  and 
 
 placid  shingle  beach. 
 In   feathery  snows,  and  whistling  winds, 
 
 and  dun  electric  skies  ; 
 There  is  beauty  in  the  rounded  woods,  dank 
 
 with  heavy  foliage, 
 In  laughing  fields,  and  dinted  hills,  the 
 
 valley  and  its  lake ; 
 There  is  beauty  in  the  gullies,  beauty  ca 
 
 the  clifl's,  beauty  in  sun  and  shade. 
 In  rocks  and  rivers,  seas  and  plains,—  the 
 
 earth  is  di-owued  iu  beauty. 
 
54 
 
 BEAUTY— BEGINNINGS. 
 
 Beautj'  coileth  with  the  water-snake,  and 
 
 is  cradled  in  the  shrew-mouse's  nest, 
 She  flitteth  out  with  evening  hats,  and  the 
 
 soft  mole  hid  her  in  his  tunnel; 
 The  limpet  is  encamped  upon  the  shore, 
 
 and  heauty  not  a  stranger  to  his  tent ; 
 The  silvery  dace  and  golden  carp  thread 
 
 the  rushes  with  her  ; 
 She  saileth  into  clouds  with  an  eagle,  she 
 
 fluttereth  into  tulips  with  a  hummiug- 
 
 hird ; 
 The  pasturing  kine  are  of  her  company 
 
 and  she  prowleth  with  the  leopard  in 
 
 his  jungle.  M.  TupjJer. 
 
 BEAUTY  AND  SUBLIMITY— Influence  of. 
 
 Sublimity  is  one  thing,  beauty  is  another. 
 Both  exert  a  very  powerful  influence  on 
 the  human  mind,  though  an  influence  in 
 some  respects  most  dissimilar.  Both  at- 
 tract, both  enchant;  but  the  enchantment 
 of  sublimity  is  reverence :  the  enchant- 
 ment of  beauty  is  sympathy.  Stationed 
 among  the  solitudes  of  some  Highland 
 glen,  where  hill  seems  piled  on  hill,  and 
 rock  on  rock,  in  awful  grandeur  round 
 and  round ;  or,  where  the  swollen  mountain 
 stream,  a  mighty  flood,  sweeps  on  with 
 resistless  force;  or,  where  through  the 
 black  cloud  canopy,  the  thunder  leaps  from 
 peak  to  peak;  in  such  situation  the  spec- 
 tator feels  the  influence  of  sublimity.  It 
 is  an  influence  much  as  if  the  object  that 
 entrances  him  had  placed  between  itself 
 and  him  a  rigid  rod  of  iron  to  fix  him  there 
 in  reverential  awe  and  at  a  reverential 
 distance.  Gnziug  on  the  sportive  gambols 
 of  the  bleating  lamb,  or  on  the  opening 
 richness  of  some  lovely  flower,  listening  to 
 the  morning  melodies  of  the  lark,  to  the 
 enticing  prattle  of  a  little  child,  or  witness- 
 ing some  kindly,  generous,  noble  action,  in 
 such  circumstances  the  observer  feels  the 
 influence  of  beauty.  It  is  an  influence 
 much  as  if  the  object  that  entrances  him 
 had  thrown  around  his  heart  a  hundred 
 cords  of  love,  and  drawn  him  to  itself  in 
 tenderest  sympathy.  E.  B.  Nichol. 
 
 BEAUTIES— Divine. 
 
 All  the  beauties  of  all  the  heavens,  and 
 p11  the  angels,  have  been  played  forth  from 
 their  Eternal  hiding-place  in  the  Divine 
 Nature.  To  say  that  God  is  in  Himself  a 
 compacted  universe  of  sweetnesses,  beauties, 
 and  splendours,  is  to  speak  very  unworthily, 
 for  endless  universes  lie  hidden  in  the 
 Bosom  of  the  Infinite  Nature.  Heavens, 
 and  heavens  of  heavens  of  beauties,  are 
 observing  a  most  sacred  reserve,  in  Him. 
 The  heavens  must  improve,  and  the  crea- 
 tures must  mature  in  wisdom  and  holiness, 
 yet  for  ages  of  ages,  before  they  will  be 
 capable  of  reflecting  the  higher,  not  to  say 
 the  highest,  beauties  of  "the  Father  of 
 Lights."      Beauty  is  the  robe  of  holiness  : 
 
 the  more  holiness  the  more  beauty.  To  all 
 eternity,  we  can  imagine  the  first  and 
 loveliest  of  all  God's  creatures  praying; 
 "  Let  the  Beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be 
 upon  us."  /.  Puhford. 
 
 BEGINNING  LIFE. 
 
 Let  me  say  to  every  one  that  is  beginning 
 life:  Do  not  begin  with  exaggerated  ideas 
 of  your  own  worth.  Do  not  think  that 
 you,  without  battle,  ought  to  be  victor,  and 
 walk  from  the  beginning  with  those  laurels 
 about  your  head  which  are  to  be  twined 
 there,  if  at  all,  only  at  the  end  of  the 
 campaign.  Do  not  mistake  your  own  turbu- 
 lent pride.  Do  not  mistake  your  own  false 
 interpreting,  lying  vanity.  Do  not  begin 
 your  life  feeling  that  such  a  fine  fellow  as 
 you  are — one  so  spruce,  so  handsome,  so 
 well-dressed,  so  accomplished  in  various, 
 ways  —  deserves  a  high  place.  Do  not 
 flutter  yourself  that  life  owes  you  any  more 
 than  it  owes  anybody  else.  It  owes  you, 
 in  common  with  all  others,  just  as  much 
 as,  climbing,  you  can  bring  down.  It 
 owes  you  a  chance  to  be  something.  It 
 will  give  you  that,  and  nothing  more.  It 
 is  better  for  every  man  to  begin  with  this 
 understanding :  I  have  a  chance  to  carve 
 out  my  own  way.  This  is  all  I  want. 
 Having  that,  I  will  take  the  consequences. 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BEGINNINGS— Importance  of. 
 
 Four  men  Jiad  occasion  to  go  from  Leeds 
 to  attend  the  winter  assizes  at  York, 
 respecting  some  trials  in  which  they  were 
 nearly  interested.  Of  those  four,  one  over- 
 slept himself,  lost  his  train,  and  did  not 
 get  into  court  till  after  his  case  was  dis- 
 posed of.  The  second  got  into  what  he 
 supposed  (from  want  of  inquiry)  was  the 
 York  train,  and  was  some  way  on  the  road 
 to  London  before  he  found  out  his  mistake. 
 The  third  reached  York  in  time,  but  found 
 he  had  carelessly  left  behind  him  papers 
 which  were  as  essential  as  his  personal 
 presence.  The  fourth  was  both  diligent 
 and  careful,  and  assisted  to  win  the  cause 
 he  went  to  support. 
 
 The  first  three  began  wrong,  and  all 
 their  efforts  to  retrieve  themselves  were 
 vain.  So,  in  spiritual  things,  let  us  be 
 careful  to  "  seek  the  Lord  early,"  and  "  not 
 to  sleep,  as  do  others."  Let  us  "  ponder 
 the  path  of  our  feet ;"  and  let  us  take  care 
 that  we  do  not  start  on  our  pilgrimage, 
 and,  like  Christian,  "  leave  our  roll  of  pro- 
 mise behind  us."  Life  is  like  a  multiplica- 
 tion sum,  in  which  a  small  error  in  the 
 amount  of  the  first  multiplicand  assumes 
 vast  dimensions  in  the  total.  The  begin- 
 ning enfolds  the  end,  as  the  acorn  enfolds 
 the  oak. 
 
 I  have  heard  of  an  insolvent  who  said  he 
 was  ruined  by  a  new  sofa;   and  he  thus 
 
BEGINKIBrGS-BELIEVE. 
 
 S5 
 
 explained  the  inocle  of  his  ruin.  "  That 
 sofa  was  the  bad  he(/inniyig — it  was  too  fine 
 ibr  me.  It  made  my  old  chairs  and  table 
 look  mean,  and  I  had  to  buy  new  ones. 
 Then  the  curtains  had  to  be  renewed.  Then 
 the  furniture  in  the  other  rooms  had  to  be 
 sold,  and  new  articles  bought  to  correspond 
 with  the  parlour.  Soon  we  found  the 
 house  was  not  good  enough  for  the  furni- 
 ture, and  we  removed  into  a  larger  man- 
 sion ;  and  now,  here  I  am,  in  the  Insolvent 
 Court." 
 
 The  following  couplets,  from  Trench's 
 Poems,  may  be  useful  here  ; 
 
 "  Rear  highly  as  you  wilt  thy  branches  in 
 
 the  air. 
 But  that  thy  roots  descend  as  deep  in  earth, 
 
 have  care." 
 
 "  Would'st  thou  go  forth  to  bless, — be  sure 
 
 of  thy  own  ground  : 
 Fix  well  thy  centre  first;  then  draw  thy 
 
 circles  round."  Anon. 
 
 BEGIHiniTGS— Small. 
 
 The  considerable  actions  in  the  world 
 have  usually  very  small  beginnings.  Of  a 
 few  letters  how  many  thousand  words  are 
 made ;  of  ten  figures  how  many  thousand 
 numbers  !  A  point  is  the  beginning  of  all 
 geometry.  A  little  stone  flung  into  a  pond 
 makes  a  little  circle,  then  a  greater,  till  it 
 enlargeth  itself  to  both  the  sides.  So  from 
 small  beginnings,  God  doth  cause  an  efliux 
 through  the  whole  world.        S.  CharnocTc. 
 
 BELIEF— Definition  of. 
 
 The  belief  of  a  proposition  is  the  receiv- 
 ing of  that  proposition  as  true  upon  evi- 
 dence, from  a  supposed  preponderance  of 
 reasons  in  its  favour.  S.  Rogers. 
 
 BELIEF  (Eeligious)— Preference  of. 
 
 I  envy  not  quality  of  the  mind  or  intel- 
 lect in  others ;  not  genius,  power,  wit  or 
 fancy  ;  but  if  I  could  choose  what  would 
 be  most  delightful,  and  I  believe  most  use- 
 ful to  me,  I  should  prefer  a  firm  religious 
 belief  to  every  other  blessing ;  for  it  makes 
 life  a  discipline  of  goodness, — creates  new 
 hopes,  when  all  hopes  vanish ;  and  throws 
 over  the  decay,  the  destruction  of  existence, 
 the  most  gorgeous  of  all  lights,  awakens  life 
 even  in  de^th,  and  from  corruption  and 
 decay  calls  up  beauty  and  divinity ;  makes 
 an  instrument  of  torture  and  of  shame  the 
 ladder  of  ascent  to  paradise  ;  and  far  above 
 all  combinations  of  earthly  hopes,  calls  up 
 the  most  delightful  visions  and  plains  and 
 amaranths,  the  gardens  of  the  blest,  the 
 security  of  everlasting  joys,  where  the  sen- 
 sualist and  the  sceptic  view  only  gloom, 
 decay,  annihilation,  and  despair. 
 
 Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 
 
 BELIEF  (Eeligious)— Surface. 
 
 Unless  a  man  values  and  uses  his  concep- 
 tion of  Christ,  or  his  creed,  as  a  medium  of 
 tlie  Spirit,  as  a  leuse  to  condense  the  radi- 
 ance of  the  everlasting  world  upon  his  soul, 
 a  perfect  surface-belief  is  of  no  account. 
 Some  creeds  have  truth  and  little  power; 
 others  have  power  and  not  so  much  truth. 
 The  men  of  science  tell  us  now  thai  there 
 is  a  very  subtle  chemical  energy  in  the  sun- 
 ray — as  it  were,  the  soul  of  it — which  is 
 difi'erent  from  its  light-giving  and  its  heat- 
 ing properties.  Certain  glasses  stained 
 dark-blue  will  admit  scarcely  any  light, 
 and  yet  will  offer  no  interruption  to  the 
 passage  of  this  mysterious  force.  On  the 
 contrary,  a  yellow  glass,  which  transmits 
 almost  undiminished  the  intensity  of  the 
 light,  will  completely  cut  ofl'  this  chemical 
 principle,  whatever  it  be.  So  we  cannot 
 fail  to  see  how  some  head-creeds  of  darkest 
 blue,  that  one  wonld  think  must  make  the 
 universe  dismal  and  life  a  bitter  bondage, 
 will  transmit  the  vital  eftluance  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit  to  many  a  believer's  heart. 
 While  other  people  may  diiTuse  and  live  in 
 tliC  full  intellectual  radiance  of  a  true  phi- 
 losophy of  the  Gospel,  and  receive  through 
 it  nothing  of  that  thrilling  energy  which  is 
 twisted  in  with  the  pure  light  of  eternity, 
 and  in  which  the  Gospel  attests  its  power. 
 So  that  the  important  question  is,  not  so 
 much,  what  we  think  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
 as,  what  the  Spirit  thinks  of  us,  and  of  the 
 truth  we  have  worked  into  form.  Does  God 
 use  it  for  His  regenerative  purposes  ?  Does 
 He  make  it  the  medium  of  His  most  secret 
 and  quickening  grace.  T.  S.  King. 
 
 BELIEF— Varieties  of. 
 
 'Tis  with  our  judgments  as  our  watches; 
 
 none 
 Are  just  alike,  yet  each  believes  his  own. 
 
 Foi^e. 
 BELIEF  AND  FAITH. 
 
 Belief  without  faith  in  an  intelligible 
 sense  I  can  understand;  though,  if  the 
 truth  believed  be  of  a  nature  to  excite  to 
 emotion  and  dictate  action,  and  fail  to  do 
 so,  I  doubt  whether  men  in  general  would 
 not  call  that  belief  spurious.  For  example, 
 if  a  man,  on  being  told  that  his  house  was 
 on  fire,  sat  still  in  his  neighbour's  chimney- 
 corner,  and  took  no  notice  of  the  matter, 
 most  persons  would  say  that  his  assent  was 
 no  true  belief,  for  it  did  not  produce  its 
 effects,  did  not  produce  faith.     H.  Rogers. 
 
 BELIEVE— The  Command  to. 
 
 Knowing  that  you  would  neglect  the 
 invitation,  he  has  put  it  to  you  in  the  light 
 of  a  command.  "  This  is  the  commandment, 
 that  ye  believe  on  Jesus  Christ  whom  He 
 hath  sent."  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
 Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved."     "He 
 
56 
 
 BELIEVE— BELIEVERS. 
 
 that  lielisveth  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
 saved ;  hut  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be 
 damned."  He  thought  you  would  say, 
 "  Ah,  but  I  am  not  fit  to  accept  the  invita- 
 tion." "  Well,"  says  he,  "  I  will  command 
 tlie  man  to  do  it."  Like  a  poor  hungry 
 man  with  bread  before  him,  who  says, 
 "Ah,  it  would  be  presumption  on  my  part 
 to  eatj"  but  the  king  says  "Eat,  sir,  or  I 
 will  punish  you."  What  a  generous  and 
 liberal  command  ;  even  the  threat  itself  has 
 no  anger  in  it.  Like  the  motlier,  who  when 
 the  child  is  near  to  die,  and  nothing  will 
 save  it  but  the  medicine,  and  the  child  will 
 not  drink,  she  threatens  the  child,  but  only 
 out  of  love  to  it  that  it  may  be  saved.  So 
 the  Lord  doth  add  threatenings  to  com- 
 mands ;  for  sometimes  a  black  word  will 
 drive  a  soul  to  Christ  where  a  bright  word 
 would  not  draw  it.  Fears  of  hell  sometimes 
 make  men  flee  to  Jesus.  The  weary  wing 
 made  the  poor  dove  fly  to  the  ark  :  and 
 the  thunderbolts  of  God's  justice  are  only 
 meant  to  make  thee  fly  to  Christ  the  Loril. 
 C  H.  Spnrgeon. 
 BELIEVE— Only. 
 
 What  had  the  woman  who  touched  the 
 hem  of  our  Lord's  garment  heard  ?  No- 
 thing of  His  kindness  towards  herself,  but 
 towards  others,  and  upon  this  she  believed. 
 So  a  rope  is  but  cast  down  into  the  sea,  to 
 a  nmltitude  of  drowning  men,  and  all  are 
 bidden  for  their  life  to  lay  hold  on  the  rope 
 that  they  may  be  saved ;  it  were  unreason- 
 able and  foolish  curiosity  for  any  of  these 
 poor  men,  now  upon  death  and  life,  com- 
 manded to  hold  fast  the  rope,  to  dispute 
 whether  did  the  man  who  cast  down  the 
 rope  intend  and  purpose  to  save  me  or  not  ? 
 and  while  my  mind  is  perplexed  on  that 
 point,  I  will  not  put  out  one  finger  to 
 touch  the  rope.  Fool !  dispute  not,  but 
 lay  hold  on  the  remedy  S.  Rutherford. 
 
 The  simple,  constant,  exclusive,  absolute, 
 duty  of  the  Christian  is  to  believe  God  in 
 Christ.  If  he  doubt,  fear,  or  disbelieve,  he 
 docs  that  which  is  below  duty,  and  actual 
 sin.  John,  Bate. 
 
 BELIEVE  AND  LOVE. 
 
 The  devils,  we  are  told,  believe  and 
 tremble.  Our  part  is  to  believe  and  love. 
 But  it  is  hard  to  convince  people  that  no- 
 thing short  of  tills  can  be  true  Christian 
 faith.  So,  because  they  are  something 
 terrified  by  the  thought  of  God,  they  fancy 
 they  believe,  though  their  hearts  are  far 
 away  from  Him.  Hare. 
 
 BELIEVER— a  Versatile. 
 
 Where  evidence  is  complicated  and  va- 
 rious, and  consists  of  many  opposing  or 
 modifying  elements,  he  never  troubles  him- 
 self to  compute  the  sum  total,  and  strike 
 a  fair  balance.     He  stands  aghast  in  the 
 
 presence  of  an  objection  which  he  cannot 
 solve,  and  loses  all  presence  of  mind  in 
 its  contemplation.  He  seldom  considers 
 whether  there  are  not  still  greater  objec- 
 tions on  the  other  side,  nor  how  much  far- 
 ther, if  a  principle  be  just,  it  ought  to 
 carry  him.  The  mode  in  which  he  looks 
 at  a  subject  often  reminds  me  of  the  way 
 in  which  the  eye,  according  to  metaphy- 
 sicians, surveys  an  extensive  landscape.  It 
 sees,  they  say,  only  a  point  at  a  time  — 
 punctum  visibile  — -  which  is  perpetually 
 shifting ;  and  the  imjjression  of  the  whole 
 is,  in  fact,  a  rapid  combination,  by  means 
 of  memory,  of  perceptions  all  but  coexist- 
 ent ;  if  the  attention  be  strongly  fixed 
 upon  one  object,  the  rest  of  the  landscape 
 comparatively  fades  from  the  view. 
 
 S.  Rogers. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Death  of. 
 
 What  is  it  to  die  ?  To  believers,  it  is  to 
 drop  the  body  of  this  death,  and  to  put  on 
 a  joyous  immortality  ;  to  pass  from  dark- 
 ness to  everlasting  sunlight;  to  cease 
 dreaming,  and  commence  a  waking  exist- 
 ence ;  yes,  to  awake  in  the  likeness  of  God, 
 satisfied  fully  and  for  ever  satisfied.  What 
 is  it  to  die  P  To  feel  the  last  pang,  to  shed 
 the  last  tear,  to  raise  the  shield  of  faith 
 against  Satan's  last  dart.  It  is  to  go  home 
 to  God ;  to  open  the  eyes  on  the  enthroned 
 Mediator;  to  close  the  ears  upon  all  dis- 
 cords, all  sounds  of  woe,  all  the  falsehoods, 
 the  maledictions,  the  blasphemies  of 
 earth,  and  open  them  to  the  harmonies  of 
 heaven.  Wh;it  is  it  to  die  ?  To  lean  on  the 
 Almighty  for  a  few  steps  clown  a  narrow 
 valley;  to  step  out  of  Jordan  upon  the 
 borders  of  the  Better  Land ;  to  pass  up  to 
 the  New  Jerusalem ;  to  enter  by  one  of 
 those  gates  of  pearl  into  the  city  ;  to  have 
 ten  thousand  angels  come  and  utter  their 
 cordial  welcome;  to  see — 0,  let  me  die  the 
 death  of  the  righteous  ! — to  see  the  Saviour 
 smile  benignantly,  and  to  hear  Him  say, 
 "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant;  enter 
 thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 
 
 Dr.  Thomson. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Dearth  in. 
 
 True  believers  have  seasons  of  unfruit- 
 fulness,  in  which  they  bring  forth  no  good 
 works,  devout  thoughts  or  holy  aspirations. 
 They  are  then  like  the  trees  in  winter, 
 which  are  indeed  destitute  of  leaves,  but  are 
 not  destitute  of  sap  and  life,  and  hence 
 when  spring  returns,  bud  and  blossom,  iind 
 bear  afresh.  The  ungodly,  however,  resem- 
 ble withered  trees,  which  at  aU  seasons 
 alike  are  without  either  sap,  or  life,  or  fruit, 
 and  consequently  are  fit  for  nothing  but 
 the  fire.  Ootthold. 
 
 BELIEVERS- Peace  of. 
 
 There  is  a  description  in  the  Gospel  of  a 
 
BELIEVERS. 
 
 67 
 
 man  who  was  possessed  with  a  demon,  and 
 who  cut  himself  with  knives  and  stones, 
 and  in  company  with  other  demons,  horri- 
 ble and  execrable  as  himself,  he  spent  his 
 nights  amidst  the  tombs.  That  is  a  pic- 
 tm-e  of  wretchedness,  than  which  I  know 
 of  none  more  consummate  and  finished.  The 
 explanation  of  that  is,  the  fiend  in  him 
 boasted  of  himself  that  he  was  no  common 
 fiend ;  he  said  his  name  was  "  Legion." 
 Just  as  the  wretchedness  of  this  man  was 
 so  deep  and  consummate  because  it  was  no 
 common  fiend  that  possessed  him,  so  is  the 
 peace  of  the  believer  a  pi'ofound  peace  be- 
 cause the  name  of  its  author  is  no  common 
 name.  Just  as  all  the  flower  is  in  the  bud, 
 just  as  all  the  day  is  in  the  dawn,  just  as 
 all  the  man  is  in  "the  child,  so  all  peace  is 
 included  in  the  peace  of  believers — peace 
 with  God  and  with  conscience,  peace  on 
 earth  and  in  heaven  ;  and  all  sorts  of  peace 
 are  in  the  peace  of  believers. 
 
 Dr.  J,  Beaumont. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Purposes  of. 
 
 One  day  in  spring,  when  the  weather 
 was  fine,  and  the  fruit-trees  showed  one 
 mass  of  blossom,  Gotthold,  walking  in  his 
 giirden,  and  feasting  his  eyes  with  their 
 splendour,  made  the  following  observations 
 to  a  friend  ;  "  These  trees  bear  much  more 
 blossom  tlian  they  can  possibly  ripen  into 
 fruit.  This  shews  in  them  an  inward  and 
 natural  disposition  to  pay  liberally  for  the 
 ground  they  occupy,  although  they  are  after- 
 wards more  or  less  hindered  by  outward  cir- 
 cumstances from  carrying  it  into  efiect.  It 
 is  the  same  with  good  men.  Ah  me  !  how 
 large,  how  keen,  how  many  thousand-fold 
 are  often  their  virtuous  resolutions,  and  in- 
 ward desires  to  love  and  serve  the  Lord ! 
 'O  God,'  we  hear  them  cry,  'Hrd  I  the 
 love  of  all  angels  and  men,  it  should  burn 
 for  Thee  alone  !  Had  I  ten  thousand  hearts 
 to  Thee  should  they  be  consecrated  and 
 resigned  !  Had  I  the  tongues  of  all  man- 
 kind, their  employment  should  be  to  praise 
 and  extol  Thee,'0  God  of  glory!  With 
 what  alacrity  and  joy  I  will  henceforth 
 serve  Thee !  Ah,  me !  Why  did  not  I 
 know  Thee  sooner,  O  Thou  pure  and  eternal 
 love  ?  Depart  from  me,  ye  evil  doers,  for  I 
 ivill  keep  the  commandments  of  my  God.' 
 (Ps.  cxix,  115.)  At  such  a  time  the  tree  is 
 in  full  blossom  ;  and  the  inward  impulse  of 
 the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  constraining  in- 
 fluence of  the  love  of  Christ,  are  powerfully 
 felt.  Scarce  a  tithe  of  the  blossom,  how- 
 ever, ripens  into  fruit.  But  as  man,  not- 
 withstanding, takes  pleasure  in  beholding 
 it  upon  the  tree,  even  so  does  God  delight 
 in  a  heart  overflowing  with  fervour  and 
 holy  resolutions,  and  also  in  the  fruits  of 
 righteousness  though  these  may  at  first  be 
 few."  Gotthold. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Security  of. 
 
 The  only  plank  between  the  believer  and 
 destruction  is  the  blood  of  the  incarnate 
 God.  The  blood  of  Jesus  did  not  cause 
 the  love  of  God,  but  it  opened  a  way  by 
 which  it  could  be  manifested,  for  the  love 
 of  God  must  ever  flow  in  a  crystal  stream. 
 J.  Evans. 
 
 I  have  seen  shrubs  and  trees  grow  out 
 of  the  tocks,  and  overhang  fearful  preci- 
 pices, roaring  cataracts,  and  deep  running 
 waters,  but  they  maintained  their  position 
 and  threw  out  their  foliage  and  branches  as 
 much  as  if  they  had  been  in  the  midst  of 
 a  d(mse  forest.  It  was  their  hold  of  the  rock 
 that  made  them  secure,  and  the  influences 
 of  natur,^  that  sustained  their  life.  So  be- 
 lievers are  oftentimes  exposed  to  the  most 
 horrible  dangers  in  their  journey  to  heaven, 
 but  so  long  as  they  are  "  rooted  and 
 grounded "  in  the  Rock  of  Ages,  they  are 
 perfectly  secure.  Their  hold  of  Him  is 
 their  guarantee  ;  and  the  blessings  of  His 
 grace  give  them  life  and  sustain  them  in 
 life.  And  as  the  tree  must  die  or  the  rock 
 fall  befcB'e  a  dissolution  could  be  efl^ected 
 between  them;  so,  either  the  believer  must 
 lose  his  spiritual  life, or  theRock  must  crum- 
 ble ere  their  union  can  be  dissolved.  Be- 
 liever, which  shall  it  be  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Sin  in. 
 
 By  shoving  and  shaking  you  may  move 
 the  magnetic  needle  from  its  place,  but  to 
 that  it  returns  the  moment  it  is  left  to 
 itself.  In  like  manner,  believers  may  fiill 
 into  sin  and  deviate  from  the  line  of  duty  ; 
 but  no  sooner  have  they  leisure  for  reflec- 
 tion, than  they  endeavour  to  mend  their 
 ways,  and  resume  a  life  of  godliness.  On 
 the  contrary,  the  wicked  watch  for  oppor- 
 tunities of  doing  evil,  and  give  themselves 
 up  to  all  the  temptations  of  the  devil  and 
 the  world.  Gotthold. 
 
 To  good  men  their  sin  and  infirmity  are 
 festering  sores,  which  give  them  pain,  and 
 from  which  tney  seek  to  be  relieved.  On  the 
 contrary,  to  the  ungodly,  sin  and  infirmity 
 are  a  jewel,  and  regarded  as  a  distinction 
 and  ornament.  Hid. 
 
 BELIEVERS— Union  with  Christ. 
 
 On  the  one  hand,  this  union  does  not 
 involve  any  mysterious  confusion  of  the 
 persons  of  Christ  with  the  persons  of  His 
 people ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  not 
 such  a  mere  association  of  separate  persons 
 as  exists  in  human  societies.  Rut  it  is  a 
 union  which, — 1.  Determines  our  legal 
 status  on  the  same  basis  with  His.  2 
 Which  revives  and  sustains  by  the  infiuence 
 of  His  indwelling  Spirit,  our  spiritual  life 
 from  the  fountain  of  His  life ;   and  which 
 
58 
 
 BELIEVING. 
 
 transforms  our  todies  and  souls  into  the 
 likeness  of  His  glorified  humanity. 
 It  is  therefore — 
 
 1.  A  spiritual  union.  Its  actuating 
 source  and  bond  is  the  Spirit  of  the  head, 
 who  dwells  and  works  in  the  members. 
 1  Cor.  vi,  17  ;  xii,  13  ;  1  John  iii,  24;  iv,  13. 
 
 2.  A  vital  union,  i.  e.,  our  spiritual  life  is 
 sustained  and  determined  in  its  nature  and 
 movement  by  the  life  of  Christ,  through 
 the  indwelling  of  His  Spirit.  John  xiv,  19  ; 
 Gal.  ii,  20. 
 
 3.  It  embraces  our  entire  persons,  our 
 bodies  through  our  spirits.  1  Cor.  vi,  15,  19. 
 
 4.  Ifc  is  a  legal  or  federal  union,  so  that 
 all  of  our  legal  or  covenant  resiionsibillties 
 rest  upon  Christ,  and  all  of  His  legal  or 
 covenant  merits  accrue  to  ns 
 
 5.  This  union  is  between  the  believer  and 
 the  person  of  tlie  God-man  in  His  office  as 
 mediator.  Its  immediate  organ  is  the  Holy 
 Spirit,  who  dwells  in  us  ;  and  through  Him 
 we  are  virtually  united  to  and  commune 
 with  the  whole  Godhead,  since  He  is  the 
 Sjiirit  of  the  Father  as  well  as  of  the  Son. 
 John  xiv,  23;  xvii,  21,  23.       A.  A.  Madge. 
 
 BELIEVIEG— Danger  of  Delay  in. 
 
 Wlien  a  man  hath  to  go  over  a  river, 
 though  he  ride  once  and  again  into  the 
 water  and  come  out,  saying,  I  fear  it  is  too 
 deep  for  me,  yet,  considering  that  there  is 
 no  other  way  for  him,  he  resolves  to  venture, 
 for,  saith  he,  the  longer  I  stay  the  higher 
 the  waters  will  rise,  and  there  is  no  other 
 way  for  me — I  must  go  through  at  the  last, 
 why  not  at  the  first  ?  And  so  he  ventures 
 through.  Tlius  it  is  with  you.  You  say, 
 "Oh,  but  my  heart  is  not  humbled;  oh, 
 but  I  am  a  great  sinner ;  and  should  I 
 venture  upon  Jesus  Christ?"  Will  this 
 heart  be  more  humbled  by  keeping  from 
 Jesus  Christ,  and  wilt  thou  be  less  a  sinner 
 by  keeping  from  Him  ?  No,  certainly,  for 
 the  longer  you  stay  from  Christ,  the  harder 
 it  will  be  to  venture  on  Him  at  the  last. 
 
 W.  Bridge. 
 BELIEVING— is  Coming. 
 
 Believing  on  Jesus  is  coming  to  Him. 
 Long  ago  you  might  have  seen  two  men 
 going  out  together  to  cut  wood.  As  they 
 are  going  on  busily  and  merrily  with  their 
 work,  the  axe-head  of  one  of  them  flies  oil, 
 and,  striking  the  other,  kills  him  on  the 
 spot.  What  is  to  be  done?  if  he  remains 
 where  he  is,  his  own  life  may  have  to  go  for 
 that  of  the  dead  man ;  and  if  he  should  go  to 
 his  home,  the  avengers  of  blood  may  follow 
 him  thither.  This  is  what  he  does.  God 
 has  appointed  so  many  towns  in  vai-ious 
 parts  of  the  country  as  places  to  which,  in 
 such  cases,  men  may  flee  for  safety.  They 
 are  called  "  Cities  of  refuge."  If  the  man 
 should  be  overtaken  by  the  way,  he  may 
 be  put  to  death  ;  but  once  within  the  gates, 
 none  dares  to  touch  him.  Now  these  cities 
 
 of  refuge  were  meant  as  a  picture  of  Jesua 
 Christ,  as  the  refuge  of  sinners.  "  The 
 wages  of  sin  is  death."  "  The  soul  that  sin- 
 neth,  it  shall  die."  What  shall  be  done  ? 
 Flee.  Whither  ?  To  Jesus.  Seek  shelter 
 there,  and  once  in  Him  you  are  safe.  Hence 
 you  so  often  find  Him  using  this  very 
 word,  "Come  unto  me;"  and  complaining, 
 "  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me,  that  ye  may 
 have  life."  J.  R.  Wilson. 
 
 BELIEVING— is  Looking. 
 
 Believing  on  Jesus  is  LOOKING-  to  Him — 
 looking  to  Him  for  salvation.  You  see 
 that  poor  widow  with  a  young  family,  weep- 
 ing as  if  her  heart  would  break.  When  I  ask 
 her  what  ails  her,  she  tells  me  she  is  behind 
 with  her  rent,  and  her  landlord  threatens 
 to  turn  her  to  the  door,  unless  she  can  pay 
 her  debt,  and  find  security  for  the  next  six 
 months.  So  I  tell  her  to  dry  her  tears,  and 
 do  her  best  to  work  for  her  children,  and 
 just  look  to  me  for  her  rent.  How  full  of 
 joy  slie  is  all  at  once  !  How  cheerfully  she 
 v/orks;  and  though  she  has  not  a  penny 
 laid  past  for  the  term,  she  has  no  fear  ; 
 and  when  asked.  Why?  she  says,  "I  am 
 looking  to  him,  for  he  bade  me,  and  I 
 know  he  will  not  fail  me.  What  he  pro- 
 mised is  just  as  sure  as  if  I  had  it  in  my 
 hand."  Now,  believing  on  Jesus  is  some- 
 thing like  this.  If  I  might  so  speak,  it  is 
 the  heart's  look  to  Jesus — a  single  glance, 
 indeed,  at  first,  and  yet  a  constant  looking 
 to  Him  ever  after. 
 
 I  find  one  saying,  "  Mark  how  simple 
 the  way  of  salvation  is.  It  is.  Look,  look, 
 look  !  Four  letters,  and  two  of  them  alike !" 
 It  is  the  turn  of  the  eye  of  your  heart  to 
 Jesus,  and  that  may  be  in  a  moment — im- 
 mediately— here  ;  to  Jesus  as  the  Saviour — 
 the  only  Saviour — the  Saviour  for  you.  "Be- 
 lieve on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  "  Looking 
 unto  Jesus."  "Behold  the  Lamb  of  God, 
 who  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world." 
 
 /.  S.  Wilson. 
 BELIEVING— is  Laying  Hold. 
 
 A  vessel  is  wrecked ;  one  after  another 
 of  her  crew  is  swept  away  and  disappears. 
 As  she  heaves  to  and  fro  it  seems  as  if  every 
 moment  she  would  break  up,  and  send  her 
 shivering  passengers  down  into  the  deep. 
 There  is  the  cabin-boy,  thinking  of  his 
 mother  and  his  home,  and  praying,  though 
 scarcely  hoping  to  be  saved,  when  a  plank 
 floats  past.  Eagerly  he  lays  hold  of  it, 
 rests  his  whole  weight  upon  it,  and  while 
 others  perish,  he  is  safe.  That  describes 
 you  again.  As  you  are  just  about  to  go 
 down,  the  plank  floats  along,  comes  near 
 you — within  reach — within  arm's  length. 
 Th.at  plank  is  Christ.  Lay  hold  of  Him — 
 rest  yourself  upon  Him.  He  can  bear  your 
 whole  weight — the  whole  weight  of  your 
 sins,  which  would  have  sunk  you  to  perdi- 
 tion— the  whole  weight  of  your  soul.     Try 
 
BELIEVING. 
 
 Him ;  and,  like  a  sailor  who  tried  him, 
 you'll  be  able  joyfully  to  say,  even  in 
 dying,  "  The  plank  bears !  the  plank 
 bears  !"  J.  R.  Wilson. 
 
 BELIEVING— Peace  of. 
 
 If  you  have  believed,  then  you  have  ey- 
 perienced  what  the  apostle  Paul  calls  "the 
 peace  of  believing."  Ah  !  there  is  no  peace 
 like  that,  just  as  there  is  no  sweetness  like 
 the  sweetness  of  the  honeycomb.  There 
 are,  doubtless,  many  sweet  substances  be- 
 sides honey,  but  nothing  is  so  sweet  as  it  is. 
 V\  hy  ?  Because  the  little  laborious  bee  all 
 the  livelong  summer  is  kissing  and  collect- 
 ing from  every  flower  its  sweetness  as  it 
 0[)eus  tothesummer's  sun  on  the  mountain's 
 S'.ie  or  in  the  stretching  glen;  and  after 
 tlie  labourer  has  kissed,  collected,  and  collo- 
 cated all  the  sweetness  from  thousands  and 
 tens  of  thousands  of  flowers,  it  mixes  all  up 
 in  its  little  laboratory,  and  the  product  is 
 that  sweetest  of  all  sweet  things — honey; 
 and  just  because  the  honey  is  so  sweet  be- 
 cause it  is  made  in  that  particula^r  way,  so 
 the  "  peace  of  believing"  is  so  very  precious 
 because  Christ  has  made  it  in  His  way.  By 
 the  blood  of  the  Cross  He  obtained  and  pro- 
 cured it  ft)r  us,  and  then  banded  it  over  to 
 us  by  a  deed  of  formal  consignment,  saying, 
 "  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  1  give 
 unto  you."  Dr.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 BELIEVING— Personal. 
 
 I  may  be  the  better  for  another  man's 
 charity  ;  the  magistrate's  justice  may  do 
 me  right;  the  knowledge  of  the  learned 
 may  instruct  me ;  but  none  of  all  their 
 believing  can  save  me.  Am  I  the  fatter 
 for  the  meat  another  eats  ?  or  refreshed  by 
 his  sleep,  when  rest  leaves  me  ?  Can  ano- 
 ther's soul  animate  my  body,  when  its  own 
 forsakes  it  ?  Shine  the  sun  never  so  clear, 
 if  we  be  blind  we  are  still  in  darkness. 
 The  Lord  of  Life  conversed  with  the  Jews, 
 yet  were  they  still  dead  through  want  of 
 faith.  The  alms  is  bountiful,  but  what  if 
 we  have  no  hand  to  receive  it  ?  The  foun- 
 tain of  Christ's  blood  is  open,  but  faith  is 
 the  iriend  that  must  put  us  in,  or  we  perish. 
 T.  Adams. 
 BELIEVING- is  Eeceiving. 
 
 Believing  on  Jesus  is  receiving  Him. 
 This  is  one  of  His  own  expressions.  He 
 comes  to  your  door.  He  wants  to  get  in. 
 He  knocks.  He  waits.  Isn't  that  wonder- 
 ful ?  I  was  lately  visiting  that  part  of  the 
 country  vvliere  our  beloved  Queen  stays 
 when  she  comes  to  Sctotland.  She  visits 
 among  the  poor.  I  saw  some  of  the  cot- 
 tages to  which  she  is  in  the  habit  of  going. 
 In  the  house  of  one  of  her  servants  I  saw 
 her  own  likeness,  and  the  likenesses  of 
 several  of  her  family — all  gifts  from  them- 
 selves. You  say,  what  kindness!  what  con- 
 descension !  and  so  it  is.     But  what  would 
 
 you  think  if  I  told  you — what  I  am  glad  I 
 cannot  tell  you,  for  it  would  not  be  true — 
 that  when  they  saw  the  Queen  coming, 
 they  locked  their  doors  and  pretended  to 
 be  out,  and  kept  her  standing  knocking  at 
 the  door,  refusing  to  let  her  in,  though  she 
 came  to  speak  kindly  to  them  and  to  do 
 them  good  ?  You  would  say,  surely  the 
 people  must  not  be  in  their  right  mind. 
 And  yet  that  is  just  what  King  Jesus  does 
 — Queen  Victoria's  King.  He  comes  to 
 your  door  to  bless  you,  to  save  you.  He 
 says,  "  Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and 
 knock."  Most  people  keep  Him  out  and 
 will  not  have  anything  to  do  with  Him. 
 They  say,  "  Depart  from  us,  for  we  desire 
 !iot  the  knowledge  of  Thy  ways."  Opening 
 the  door  to  Him,  saying,  "  Come  in,  Lord 
 .lesus,  come  in" — taking  Him  to  our  heart, 
 and  only  fearing  lest  He  should  ever  go 
 away  again — is  believing.  The  believing 
 heart  is  the  heart  that  has  let  in  Jestjs, 
 and  in  wliich  He  dwells.     (Ejth.  iii.  17.) 
 
 J.  E.  Wilson. 
 BELIEVING— is  Trusting. 
 
 Believing  in  Jesus  is  texjsting  Him. — ■ 
 There  is  a  boy  whose  fiither  was  buried 
 yesterday.  To-day  he  is  wearing  liis  father's 
 gold  watch.  Some  wicked  lads  are  trying 
 to  take  it  from  him.  He  is  struggling  to 
 keep  it,  but  they  are  too  strong  for  him  ; 
 he  is  just  about  to  lose  it,  when  I  come  up 
 and  say,  "  Give  it  to  me,  my  boy,  and  I'll 
 keep  it  safe  for  you."  For  a  moment  he 
 looks  at  me  with  doubtful  eye,  but  as  I 
 say  to  him,  "  Trust  me  !"  and  he  sees  that 
 I  am  earnest  and  sincere,  he  bands  it  over 
 to  me,  and  I  prevent  him  from  being  robbed. 
 That  is  just  what  the  apostle  Paul  says  of 
 himself.  He  had,  as  you  have,  something 
 far  more  precious  than  a  gold  watch — an 
 immortal  soul,  and  he  was  afraid  of  losing 
 it — he  could  not  keep  it  himself.  Jesus 
 said,  "  Give  it  to  me,"  and  he  gave  it  to 
 Him,  and  then  you  hear  him  saying  rejoic- 
 ingly, "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed'' — 
 which  is  the  same  thing  as  whom  I  have 
 trusted — "  and  am  persuaded  that  He  will 
 keep  that  which  1  have  committed  to  Him, 
 against  that  day."  You,  my  dear  friends, 
 have  souls  too,  and  they  are  in  danger'of 
 being  lost;  there  is  only  (me  way  of  getting 
 them  saved,  giving  them  into  the  keeping 
 of  Jesus, — "trusting"  Him  with  them. 
 What  warrant  have  you  for  trusting  Him? 
 Just  what  Paul  had — His  oivn  tvord  :  and 
 that  is  always  enough.  J.  H.  Wilson. 
 
 BELIEVING— is  taking  His  V/ord. 
 
 Believing  on  Jesus  is  taki>'G  Him  at 
 His  word.  This  is  one  of  the  plainest 
 and  directest  meanings  which  the  word 
 has,  and  is  one  that  all  can  understand. 
 You  do  not  like  your  word  to  be  distrusted. 
 I  think,  even  when  I  go  the  length  of  say- 
 ing, "  Are  you  sure  you  are  speaking  the 
 
60 
 
 BENEFICENCE. 
 
 truth  ?"  that  I  see  you  feel  deeply,  almost 
 to  tears;  you  cannot  bear  to  have  your 
 word  doubted.  And  yet  how  many  among 
 us  listen  to  the  words  of  Jesus  as  if  He 
 did  not  mean    what    He  says — as  if   not 
 
 worthy  to  be  trusted! A  few  take  Jesus 
 
 at  His  word— a  happy  few — they  believe 
 Him  ;  the  others  make  Him  a  liar.  When 
 He  offers  to  save  us  and  to  save  us  freely, 
 He  means  it,  and  they  give  Him  credit  for 
 what  He  says.  There  was  one  lately  who 
 saw  herself  to  be  lost;  who,  when  told  that 
 Jesus'  own  word  was,  that  He  came  to 
 seek  and  to  save  the  lost,  and  that  He  was 
 there — willing  to  save  her,  because  He  had 
 said  it,  exclaimed,  "  Tlien  I  take  Him  at 
 His  word.  He  is  mine."  J.  H.  JVilson. 
 BENEFICENCE— Best. 
 
 Doubtless  that  is  the  best  charity  which, 
 Nilus-like,  hath  the  several  streams  thereof 
 seen,  Init  the  fountain  concealed.  T.  Govge. 
 BENEFICENCE— Blessedness  of. 
 
 A  beneficent  person  is  like  a  fountain 
 watering  the  earth,  and  spreading  fertility  ; 
 it  is,  therefore,  more  delightful  and  more 
 honorable  to  give  than  receive.  Epicurus. 
 BENEFICENCE— Blessing  on. 
 
 But  believe  me,  there  is  a  special  bless- 
 ing on  being  liberal  to  the  poor,  and  on 
 the  family  of  those  who  have  been  so  ;  and 
 I  doubt  nut  my  children  will  fair  better, 
 even  in  tliis  world,  for  real  happiness,  than 
 if  I  had  been  saving  £20,000  or  £30,000 
 of  what  has  been  given  away. 
 
 W.  Willerforce. 
 BENEFICENCE— Constancy  of. 
 
 The  sun  is  ever  pouring  his  golden  light 
 upon  numbers  of  worlds  whicli  beg  and 
 borrow  at  his  hands.  He  is  ever  shedding 
 his  genial  rays  upon  mountain  summits  and 
 wide-spread  plains.  He  is  ever  sending 
 his  influences  into  the  palace  of  the  rich 
 and  the  cottage  of  the  poor.  Were  he  to 
 cease  this  work,  he  would  cease  to  be  a  sun 
 and  hide  himself  in  eternal  night.  So  the 
 Christian's  beneticence  should  ever  shine,  or 
 he  himself  becomes  unchristianised  and  lost 
 in  the  darkness  of  this  world.     John  Bate. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— at  Eeath. 
 
 He  tliat  defers  his  charity  until  he  is 
 dead  is,  if  a  man  weighs  it  rightly,  rather 
 liberal  of  another  man's  than  his  own. 
 
 Lord  Bacon, 
 BENEFICENCE— Divine. 
 
 All  the  works  of  nature,  grace,  and 
 providence  present  us  with  boundless  il- 
 lustrations of  the  fulness,  constancy,  wis- 
 dom, power,  and  magnificence  of  the  well- 
 doing of  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 BENEFICENCE— Duty  and  Fruit  of. 
 
 We  should  remember  the  words  of  the 
 
 Lord  Jesus, how  He  said,  "It  is  more  blessed 
 to  give  than  to  receive."  The  world  thinks 
 not  so.  It  chooses  rather  to  receive  than 
 give.  "  By  giving  much,"  it  says,  "  a  man 
 becomes  poor."  I  say,  to  give  is  more 
 blessed  than  to  receive ;  and  it  is  good  to 
 dispense  liberally.  Two  husbandmen  sow 
 their  seed  in  different  parts  of  the  same 
 field ;  one  abundantly,  the  other  with  too 
 sparing  a  hand.  Whether  of  the  two  shall 
 receive  the  largest  increase  ?  And  is  it  not 
 so  in  spiritual  things  ?  "  He  which  soweth 
 sparingly  shall  reap  also  sparingly ;  and 
 he  whicli  soweth  bountifully  shall  reap  also 
 bountifully."  The  seed  is  not  iost  which 
 is  cast  into  the  earth.  It  springs  forth, 
 and  bears  fruit  with  much  increase.  Giving 
 in  faith,  and  from  Christian  motives,  makes 
 no  man  poor,  but  many  rich.  "  He  that  thus 
 giveth,  lendeth  unto  the  Lord,  and  look, 
 that  which  he  layeth  out  shall  be  paid 
 him  again."  "  Give,  and  it  shall  be  given 
 to  you."  The  more  you  are  like  unto  God 
 the  happier  you  shall  be  ;  and  God  receives 
 not,  but  gives.  God  is  good ;  thence  His 
 name  ;  and  it  is  the  character  of  goodness 
 to  deliglit  in  communicating  blessings. 
 Why  should  I  not  give  a  few  crumbs  to  my 
 Saviour,  who  daily  supplieth  my  table,  and 
 giveth  me  all  things  richly  to  enjoy  ?  Do 
 you  wish  to  receive  more  from  Him  ?  Then 
 give  the  more.  Whilst  blessing  others, 
 you  are  blessed  yourself.  S.  Miiller. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Examples  of. 
 
 The  clergy  of  Amida,  at  the  instigation 
 of  the  bishop,  sold  all  the  gold  and  silver 
 vessels  of  their  churches  in  order  to  supply 
 the  wants  of  seven  thousand  Persian  pri- 
 soners who  were  thrown  into  that  city  by  the 
 Homans,  in   a   most  destitute  condition. 
 
 A  certain  cardinal  once  took  pity  upon  a 
 poor  woman  who  applied  to  him  for  five 
 crowns  to  pay  her  rent,  and  he  gave  her 
 five  hundred,  because  of  her  virtue,  honesty, 
 and  piety. 
 
 Pisistratus  the  Athenian,  always  had 
 a  servant  near  him  with  a  bag  of  silver 
 coin,  from  which  he  always  supplied  the 
 wants  of  the  sickly,  the  insolvent,  &c. 
 
 Cyrus  said  that  he  had  prodigious  riches, 
 and  the  chief  end  he  aimed  at  in  the  use  of 
 them  was  to  reward  those  who  serve  the 
 public  faithfully ;  and  to  succour  and  re- 
 lieve those  that  would  acquaint  him  with 
 their  wants  and  necessities. 
 
 In  A.M.  3782,  the  island  of  Rhodes  suf- 
 fered great  damage  by  an  earthquake. 
 Hiero  and  Gelon  in  Sicily  contributed  two 
 hundred  talents  towards  the  wants  of  the 
 people  and  repairs  of  property  ;  Ptolemy 
 of  Egypt  supplied  the  people  with  three 
 hundred  talents,  one  hundred  thousand 
 bushels  of  corn,  besides  timber  and  other 
 materials  for  building.  Antigouus,  Seleu- 
 cus,  Prusias,  Mithridates,  came  forward  in 
 
BENEFICENCE. 
 
 61 
 
 large  and  liberal  contributions.  Private 
 persons  emulated  encli  otlier  in  their  gene- 
 rosity. One  lady,  Chryseis,  furnished  from 
 her  own  substance  a  hundred  thousand 
 bushels  of  corn. 
 
 Pliny,  a  Roman  orator,  though  not  very 
 rich,  yet  by  frugality  he  bestowed  great 
 sums  of  money  upon  his  friends.  A  friend 
 of  his  who  became  insolvent,  he  became 
 responsible  for.  When  his  friend  died,  his 
 daughter  would  have  given  him  all  her 
 father's  effects  ;  but  PUny  generously  for- 
 gave her  all,  and  besides  contril)uted  a  large 
 sum  of  money  as  an  addition  to  her  fortune. 
 
 Alfred  the  Oreat  was  a  liberal  benefactor. 
 He  divided  his  revenue  into  two  parts, 
 sacred  and  secular.  1.  Sacred.  (1)  To  the 
 poor;  (2)  To  religious  institutions;  (3) 
 Public  schools ;  (4)  Rebuilding  and  repair- 
 ing monasteries,  and  other  public  foun- 
 dations both  at  home  and  abroad.  2. 
 Secular.  (1)  His  household;  (2)  His 
 workmen ;  (3)  The  entertainment  and  re- 
 lief of  strangers. 
 
 Julius  Caesar  used  to  say  that  there  was 
 no  music  so  charming  in  his  ears  as  the 
 requests  of  his  friends,  and  the  sujjpli- 
 cations  of  those  in  want  of  assistance. 
 
 Mai-cus  Aurelius  says  that  he  could  not 
 relish  a  happiness  which  nobody  shared 
 but  himself. 
 
 Mark  Antony,  when  depressed,  and  at 
 the  ebb  of  fortune,  cried  out,  "  that  he  had 
 lost  all,  except  what  he  had  given  away." 
 
 Cato  at  the  close  of  life  declared  to  liis 
 friends  that  the  greatest  comfort  of  his  old 
 age,  and  that  which  gave  him  the  highest 
 satisfiiction,  was  the  pleasing  remembrance 
 of  the  many  benefits  and  friendly  offices 
 he  had  done  to  others.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 Later  examples  of  beneficence  maybe  read 
 on  the  tablets  fixed  in  almost  every  church 
 in  England  and  in  many  of  the  chapels. 
 
 The  recent  and  modern  examples  need 
 only  be  alluded  to,  as  their  names  must  be 
 familiar  with  all  Christians.       John  Bate. 
 
 Princes  of  Israel  (Num.  vii,  2) ;  Boaz 
 (Ruth  ii,  12) ;  David  (2  Sam.  ix,  7,  10)  ; 
 Barzillai,  4'C.  (2  Sam.  xvii,  28) ;  Araunah 
 (2  Sam.  xxiv,  22) ;  Shunammite  (2  Kin.  iv, 
 8,  10);  Judah  (2  Chr.  xxiv,  10,  11)  ;  Nehe- 
 miah  (Neh.  vii,  70)  ;  Jews  (Neh.  vii,  71, 
 72)  ;  Job  (Job  xxix,  15,  16)  ;  Nehuzaradan 
 (Jer.  xl,  4,  5);  Joanna,  li(c.  (Luke  viii,3); 
 Zaccheus  (Luke  xix,  8)  ;  Primitive  Chris- 
 tians (Acts  ii,  45) ;  Barnabas  (Acts  iv,  36, 
 37) ;  Dorcas  (Acts  ix,  36) ;  Cornelius 
 (Acts  X,  2) ;  Church  of  Antioch  (Acts  xi, 
 29,  30) ;  Lydia  (Acts  xvi,  15) ;  Paul  (Acts 
 XX,  34) ;  Stephanas,  &c.  (1  Cor.  xvi,  17.) 
 
 Extraordinary  examj)les  :  Israelites 
 (Exo.  xxxvi,  5)  ;  Poor  tcidoiv  (;\Iar.  xii, 
 42—44);  Churches  of  Macedonia  (2  Cor. 
 viii,  1—5).  Anon. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Gospel. 
 
 The  heathen  moralist  Siiid  we  must  use 
 men  thus  :  Bene  velle  omnibus,  bene,faccre 
 amicis, — wish  well  to  all,  and  do  good  only 
 to  our  friends.  But  the  clear  light  of  na- 
 ture, which  is  the  Gospel,  chargeth  us, 
 "while  we  have  opportunity,  to  do  good  to 
 all  men,  especially  to  the  houseliold  of 
 faith."     (GaL  vi,  io.)  T.  Adams. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Ingratitude  for. 
 
 A  person  was  lamenting  that,  though  he 
 had- done  good  to  many  of  liis  fellow-men, 
 he  held  seldom  been  rewarded  with  grati- 
 tude, but  very  often  with  ingratitude ;  and 
 he  averred,  that  for  this  reason  he  was  re- 
 solved henceforward  to  limit  and  restrain 
 his  liberality.  Gotthold  replied:  Friend, 
 did  you  ever  see  the  horses  taken  to  water  ? 
 They  rush  into  some  beautiful  stream  or 
 tranquil  lake,  and  drink  of  it  to  their 
 heart's  content;  after  which,  they  turn 
 their  backs  upon  it,  or  stamp  in  it  with  their 
 feet,  until  the  water  is  polluted.  This  is  the 
 price  they  pay  for  their  refreshing  draught. 
 But  what,  then,  does  the  nohle  river  ?  It 
 immediately  floats  away  the  mud,  and  con- 
 tinues after,  as  it  was  before,  full  and  free 
 of  access  for  the  same  or  other  thirsty  crea- 
 tures. And  so  must  you  also  do.  If  there 
 be  a  fountain  of  genuine  cliarity  in  your 
 heart,  it  will  constantly  and  spontaneously 
 overflow,  whether  tliose  who  drink  of  it  are 
 thankful  or  not.  He  is  a  senseless  husband- 
 man who  expects  to  reap  the  produce  of 
 his  seed  before  the  harvest.  This  life  is 
 the  season  for  sowing  and  scattering  ;  we 
 shall  reap  hereafter. 
 
 My  God,  grant  that  my  bounty  may  be 
 a  clear  and  transparent  river,  flowing  from 
 pure  charity,  and  uncontaminated  by  self- 
 love,  ambition,  or  interest.  Thanks  are 
 due  not  to  me,  but  Thee,  from  whom  all  I 
 possess  is  derived.  And  what  are  the  pal- 
 try gifts  for  wiiich  my  neighb(jur  forgets 
 to  thank  me,  compared  with  the  immense 
 blessings  for  which  I  have  so  often  for- 
 gotten to  be  grateful  to  Thee  !     Gotthold. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Jewish. 
 
 The  Levitical  dispensation  was  distin- 
 guished in  a  remarkable  manner  by  the 
 sanctification  of  property.  The  seal  of  re- 
 ligious charity  was  put  upon  almost  every 
 article  of  the  Jew's  possessions.  He  paid 
 for  the  ransom  of  his  first-born  son :  lie 
 paid  for  the  first  fruits  of  his  flocks,  and 
 the  first  gatherings  of  his  harvest,  the  lat- 
 ter being  estimated  at  a  sixtieth.  He  left 
 in  the  corners  of  his  fields,  for  the  destitute, 
 another  sixtieth.  Whatsoever  dropped  from 
 his  hand  in  reaping  was  left  for  the  poor ; 
 and  once  in  every  seven  years  he  allowed 
 his  lands  to  produce  spontaneously  ibr  them. 
 Then  there  were  the  sacrificed  animals,  or 
 
BENEFICENCE. 
 
 portions  of  them — the  trespass-offerings, 
 tlie  sin-offerings,  &c. ;  the  expense  of  pil- 
 grimage to  the  temple,  thrice  in  the  life  of 
 every  male ;  the  half-shekels  for  the  sanc- 
 tuary, and  the  remission  of  all  debts  every 
 seventh  year.  Besides  these,  there  were 
 numerous  expenses  for  hospitality  and 
 relief  to  the  poor ;  and  then  come  the  tithes 
 — the  tenth  of  the  produce  of  the  fields— for 
 the  Levites ;  and,  finally,  the  i-emainder  was 
 assessed  for  another  tenth,  to  be  spent  for 
 the  worship  of  the  temple  and  for  the  poor ; 
 and  then  at  the  end  of  every  third  year,  in 
 order  to  secure  the  integrity  of  the  law, 
 the  people  made  solemn  declaration  before 
 God  tliat  this  last  tenth  had  been  faith- 
 fully provided.  It  has  been  estimated  that 
 the'devout  Jew  gave  away  about  one  third 
 of  all  his  income  to  the  poor  and  to  religion. 
 J)r.  A.  Stevens. 
 
 BENEEICENCE— during  life. 
 
 Do  not  so  do  good  that  we  may  thank 
 your  deathbed  for  it,  and  not  you.  Late 
 beneficence  is  better  than  none,  but  so 
 much  as  early  beneficence  is  better  than 
 late.  He  that  gives  not  till  he  dies,  shows 
 that  he  would  not  give  if  he  could  keep 
 'it.  And  God  loves  a  cheerful  giver.  That 
 which  you  give  thus,  you  give  it  by  your 
 testament — I  can  scarcely  say  you  give  it 
 by  your  will.  The  good  man's  praise  is, 
 "  He  disperses  his  goods,"  not,  he  left  them 
 behind  him  :  and  his  distribution  is  se- 
 conded with  the  retribution  of  God,  "  His 
 righteousness  endureth  for  ever."  Our 
 Saviour  tells  us  that  our  good  works  are 
 our  light,  "  Let  your  light  so  shine,  that 
 men  may  see  your  good  works :"  which  of 
 you  lets  his  light  go  behind  him,  and  hath 
 'it  not  carried  before  him,  that  he  may  see 
 which  way  it  goes,  and  which  way  himself 
 goes  by  it  ?  Do  good,  therefore,  in  your 
 life,  that  you  may  have  comfort  in  your 
 death,  and  a  crown  of  life  after  death. 
 
 £p.  Sail. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Nature  Teaches. 
 
 Human  Nature  is  fallen,  and  I  am  not  in 
 the  habit  of  unduly  exalting  it ;  yet,  re- 
 garded from  this  point  of  view,  it  presents 
 some  vestiges  of  a  departed  glory— the  last 
 lights  of  sunset.  Let  me  illustrate  this  by 
 an  example,  over  which  I  can  fancy  the 
 angels  bending  with  admiration.  A  boat 
 of  castaways  lay  on  the  lone  sea  drifting  on 
 a  shoreless  ocean;  bread  they  had  none; 
 water  they  had  none  ;  no  ship,  no  sail  hove 
 in  sight.  Among  the  dead  and  dying  a 
 boy  lay  clasped  in  his  mother's  arms ;  with 
 looks — for  his  lips  were  black  and  speech- 
 less— that  seemed  to  cry — "Mother,  mo- 
 ther, give  me  bread  !"  A  rough  sailor,  who 
 had  kept  and  concealed  a  shell-fish  for  his 
 own  last  extremity,  looked  on  the  child ; 
 the  tears  started  to  his  eye ;  he  raised  his 
 
 rough  hand  to  wipe  them  from  his  cheek  5 
 and  then,  drawing  out  his  prized  last  mor- 
 sel, put  it  to  the  lips  of  the  dying  boy.  I 
 don't  know  where  he  sailed  from — perhaps 
 from  your  own  port — I  know  neither  his 
 name  nor  his  creed  ;  but,  sir,  I  know  this, 
 that  I  would  rather  my  soul  were  bound 
 up  in  the  same  bundle  with  his,  than  with 
 the  souls  of  those  who  go  to  chapel  or  to 
 church,  and,  having  no  bowels  of  mercy, 
 heap  up  money  while  other  men  are  dying 
 of  starvation.  Till  she  has  sunk  into  the 
 lowest  depths  of  selfishness  and  sin,  Human 
 Nature  could  not  enjoy  the  banquet  when 
 hungry  faces  were  staring  in  at  the  window 
 and  not  the  music  of  tabret  and  viol  filled 
 the  air,  but  the  low  meanings  of  manly  suf- 
 fering, and  the  weeping  of  mothers  whose 
 children  cry  for  bread  and  they  have  none 
 to  give  them.  The  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ 
 directs  us  to  love  even  our  enemies — if  they 
 hunger,  to  feed  them ;  if  they  thirst,  to 
 give  them  drink ;  and  though  human  na- 
 ture may  not  be  great  enough  to  forgive  an 
 enemy,  she  is  kind  enough  to  pity  a  suf- 
 ferer, and  to  sympathise  with  suffering. 
 Give  her  way,  then  !  Yield  to  her  generous 
 impulses  !  H  not  Christians,  let  us,  at 
 least,  be  men — be  l^rothers !  Act  here  as 
 you  would  were  you  in  presence  of  a  mise- 
 rable wreck — men  hanging  in  the  shrouds  ; 
 every  wave  threatening  to  engulf  tliem  ; 
 their  hands  pitifully  stretched  to  the  shore; 
 their  cries  for  help  wafted  on  the  wind, 
 and  heard  above  the  roar  of  breakers.  If 
 you  could  do  nothing  else  you  would  pity 
 them — you  would  pray  for  them.  But  if 
 you  could  do  more,  you  would  gallop  off  for 
 the  life-boat,  leap  into  her,  or  hire  men  to 
 man  her;  follow  her  with  eager  interest; 
 and,  as  now  lost  in  the  trough,  and  now 
 riding  on  the  top  of  the  sea,  she  came 
 back  with  her  living  freight,  oh  !  wdio  would 
 not  throw  open  their  houses  to  the  rescued, 
 chafe  their  limbs,  leave  their  own  beds  to 
 couch  them,  and  thank  God  that  night  on 
 their  knees  that  they  had  had  a  hand  in 
 saving  them  that  were  ready  to  perish  ? 
 Dr.  Guthne. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Practice  of. 
 
 Never  did  any  soul  do  good  but  it  came 
 readier  to  do  the  same  again,  with  more  en- 
 joyment. Never  was  love,  or  gratitude,  or 
 bounty  j^ractised  but  with  increasing  joy, 
 whicdi  made  the  practiser  still  more  in  love 
 with  the  fair  act.         Earl  of  Shaftesbury. 
 
 'Tis  not  enough  that  we  with  sorrow  sigh. 
 That  we  the  wants  of  pleading  man  supply ; 
 That  we  a  sympathy  with  sufferers  feel, 
 Nor  hear  a  grief  without  a  wish  to  heal : 
 Not  these  suffice — to  sickjiess,  pain,  and 
 
 woe, 
 The  Christian  spirit  loves  with  aid  to  go  j 
 
BENEFICENCE. 
 
 Will  not  be  souglit,  waits  not  for  want  to 
 
 plead. 
 But   seeks  the  duty— nay,  prevents    the 
 
 need.  Q.  Crabbe. 
 
 EENEI'ICEIICS— Prompt. 
 
 You  are  so  to  put  forth  the  power  that 
 God  has  given  you ;  you  are  so  to  give,  and 
 sacrifice  to  give,  as  to  earn  the  eulogium 
 pronounced  on  the  woman,  "  She  hath  done 
 what  she  could."  Do  it  now.  It  is  not  a 
 safe  thing  to  leave  a  generous  feeling  to  the 
 cooling  influences  of  a  cold  world.  If  you 
 intend  to  do  a  mean  thing,  wait  till  to-mor- 
 row :  if  you  are  to  do  a  noble  thing,  do  it 
 now — noiv  !  and  like  the  blacksmith,  who 
 at  one  long  stride  swings  the  glowing  bar 
 to  the  anvil,  and  rings  his  hammer  on  it, 
 "  strike  while  tlie  iron  is  hot." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 BENEFICENCE— E,ewarded. 
 
 Not  many  years  ago  a  person  died, 
 leaving  a  very  good  estate  to  his  widow 
 and  two  sons ;  but  the  young  men  were 
 profligate,  and  the  widow,  who  was  a 
 Christian  lady,  seeing  how  they  were 
 running  through  the  property,  and  de- 
 termining that  it  should  not  all  be  lost, 
 sent  £20  to  a  missionary  society.  The 
 sons  complained  sorely  of  it,  and  told  her 
 she  might  as  well  have  thrown  the  money 
 into  tiie  sea ;  but  she  said  she  had  cast  it 
 tipon  the  waters  and  should  find  it  again 
 after  many  days.  The  sons  enlisted  into 
 the  army ;  their  regiment  was  ordered  to 
 India,  and  when  the  eldest  son  was  several 
 hundred  miles  up  the  Ganges,  he  was,  by 
 the  preaching  of  a  missionary,  brought  to 
 the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  He  went 
 down  to  Calcutta  to  his  younger  brother, 
 and  died  there  of  cholera  almost  imme- 
 diately. Tlie  first  news  his  mother  heard 
 of  all  this  was  of  his  happy  and  triumphant 
 death ;  and  she  exclaimed,  "  Here  comes 
 my  £20  back."  But  before  his  death  the 
 elder  had  induced  the  younger  to  attend 
 the  worship  of  God,  and  he  also  was  con- 
 verted ;  he  took  orders,  became  a  mis- 
 sionary, and  came  to  England  just  before 
 his  mother  died,  closing  her  eyes  in  peace, 
 and  enabling  her  to  say,  "Here  again 
 comes  my  £20  back." 
 
 Major  Jacob. 
 
 One  of  the  wealthiest  individuals  in  a 
 distant  city  (in  America),  who  spends  im- 
 mense sums  for  benevolent  purposes,  was 
 heard  to  say,  that  he  hardly  knew  how  his 
 property  came  to  him;  it  seemed  to  in- 
 crease without  effort  on  his  part,  and 
 whether  he  would  or  no.  The  reason  may 
 have  been  because  he  was  not  selfishly 
 eager  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  and  because  he 
 
 consecrated  it  to  good  objects,  and  there- 
 fore God  blessed  him  as  he  did  Solomon. 
 W.  S.  Lewis. 
 
 Tiberius  II  was  so  liberal  to  the  poor, 
 that  his  wife  blamed  him  for  it.  Speaking 
 to  him  once  of  his  wasting  his  treasure  by 
 this  means,  he  told  her,  he  should  never 
 want  money  so  long  as,  in  obedience  to 
 Christ's  command,  he  supplied  the  neces- 
 sities of  the  poor.  Shortly  after  this,  he 
 found  a  great  treasure  under  a  marble 
 table  whicli  had  been  taken  up  ;  and  news 
 was  also  brought  him  of  the  death  of  a 
 very  rich  man,  who  had  left  his  whole 
 estate  to  him.  J.  Whitecross 
 
 BENEFICENCE— Sphere  of. 
 
 The  sphere  of  beneficent  activity  was 
 never  so  large.  To  infuse  the  leaven  of 
 purity  into  the  disordered  masses — to  thaw 
 the  death-frost  from'  the  heart  of  the  mis- 
 anthrope— to  make  the  treacherous  one 
 faithful  to  duty — to  open  the  world's  dim. 
 eye  to  the  majesty  of  conscience — to  gather 
 and  instruct  the  orphans  bereft  of  a  father's 
 blessing  and  of  a  mother's  prayer — 
 to  care  for  the  outcast  and  abandoned,  who 
 have  drunk  in  iniquity  with  their  mother's 
 milk,  whom  the  priest  and  the  Levite  have 
 alike  passed  by,  and  who  have  been  forced 
 in  the  hotbed  of  poverty  into  premature 
 luxuriance  of  evil, — here  is  labour  which 
 may  employ  a  man's  whole  lifetime,  and 
 his  whole  soul.  W.  M.  Pimshon. 
 
 BENEFICENCE-Works  of. 
 
 Churches,  chapels,  schools,  hospitals, 
 asylums,  almshouses,  religious  institutions, 
 charities,  visitations  of  the  sick  and  poor, 
 and  in  one  word,  everything  that  has  been 
 done  and  is  being  done  for  the  physical, 
 moral,  and  religious  well-being  of  hu- 
 manity,  by  those  who  have  it  in  their  will 
 and  their  hand,  may  be  included  in'  works 
 of  beneficence.  John  Bate. 
 
 BENEFICENCE  AND  BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 There  is  an  intimate  connection  between 
 them  in  their  existence,  but  a  difference  in 
 their  nature  and  action.  Benevolence  is 
 well-willing  —  beneficence  is  well-doing. 
 Benevolence  says,  "  Itvill  do  good;"  bene- 
 ficence says,  "  /  am  doing  good."  He  is  a 
 benevolent  man  who  from  the  motion  of  a 
 gra(;ious  will  makes  his  plans  and  forms  his 
 purposes  for  the  communication  of  good 
 things;  the  same  man  is  beneficent  when 
 he  in  fact  communicates  the  good  things 
 which  he  had  benevolently  planned  to  do. 
 We  see  the  benevolence  of  God  in  the  heart 
 which  He  had  to  save  the  world ;  we  see 
 His  beneficence  in  the  actual  "  Unspeakable 
 Gift,"  which  He  bestowed  for  that  purpose. 
 
 The  connection  and  difference  between 
 them  are  those  which  exist  between  inten- 
 
64 
 
 BENEFICENCE— BEREAVEMENT. 
 
 tion  and  action,  willing  and  doinc:,  cause 
 and  effect.  Eenevoleuce  in  man  may  exist 
 without  beneHcence;  but  beneficence  cannot 
 exist  without  benevolence.  A  man  may 
 have  the  will  to  do  good,  but  not  the  power. 
 He  may  mourn  in  his  soul  over  distress, 
 but  not  be  able  practically  to  help  it.  He 
 may  construct  his  plans  for  usefulness,  but 
 not  be  equal  to  their  execution,  from  an 
 unexpected  failure  of  means.  Benevolence, 
 too,  may  be  larger  in  its  proportions  than 
 beneficence.  A  Christian  may  have  a  good 
 will  towards  every  man,  and  towards  all 
 means  and  agencies  of  good  in  the  world, 
 but  he  may  be  able  practically  to  commu- 
 nicate only  to  a  few  of  them.      John  Bate. 
 
 BENEFICENCE  AND  CONSCIENCE. 
 
 There  cannot  be  found  a  better  example 
 tlian  I  have  met  with  in  reading  some 
 memoirs  of  the  great  and  good  Colston, 
 the  founder  of  those  excellent  charities  in 
 London,  Bristol,  and  elsewhere.  I  find 
 this  passage  in  his  life : — "  It  happened 
 that  one  of  his  most  richly  laden  vessels 
 was  so  long  missing,  and  the  violent  storms 
 having  given  every  reason  to  suppose  she 
 had  perished,  that  Colston  gave  her  up  for 
 lost.  Upon  this  occasion,  it  is  said,  he  did 
 not  lament  his  unhappine'ss,  as  many  are 
 apt  to  do,  and  perpetually  count  up  the 
 serious  amount  of  his  losses;  but,  with 
 dutiful  submission,  fell  upon  his  knees,  and 
 with  thankfulness  for  what  Providence  had 
 been  pleased  to  leave  him,  and  with  the 
 utmost  resignation,  relinquished  even  the 
 smallest  hope  of  her  recovery.  When, 
 therefore,  his  people  came  soon  afterwards, 
 to  tell  him  that  his  ship  had  safely  come 
 to  port,  he  did  not  show  the  signs  of  self- 
 gratulation  which  his  friends  expected  to 
 see.  He  was  devoutly  thankful  for  the 
 l^reservation  of  the  lives  of  so  many  sea- 
 men ;  but  as  for  the  vessel  and  cargo,  they 
 were  no  longer  his ;  he  had  resigned  them  ; 
 he  could  not  in  conscience  take  them  back. 
 He  looked  upon  all  as  the  gift  of  Providence 
 to  the  poor ;  and  as  such,  he  sold  the  ship 
 and  merchandise — and  most  valuable  they 
 were — and  praying  for  a  right  guidance, 
 distributed  the  proceeds  to  the  poor."  How 
 beautiful  is  such  a  charity  !  Here  is  no 
 false  lustre  thrown  upon  the  riches  and 
 goods  of  this  world,  that,  reflected,  blinds 
 ths  eyes  that  they  see  not  aright.  The 
 conscience  of  such  a  man  as  Colston  was 
 an  arbiter  even  against  himself  J  sat  within 
 him  in  judgment  to  put  aside  his  worldly 
 interest,  and  make  a  steady  light  for  itself 
 to  see  by,  where,  naturally,  was  either  a 
 glare  or  an-  obscurity,  that  alike  might 
 bewilder  less  honest  vision.        Blackwood. 
 
 BENEVOLENCE— without  Beneficence. 
 
 Sometimes  men  are  in  circumstances 
 where  they  have  to  look  on  a  misery  which 
 
 they  cannot  relieve.  Tills  happened  a  few 
 months  ago  in  Scotland.  A  vessel  laden 
 with  bi-icks  and  coal  was  undergoing  repairs 
 on  the  shore  of  the  Solway  Firth.  The  tide 
 there  runs  like  a  race-horse.  By  some  gross 
 mismanagement  the  vessel  began  to  heel 
 over.  A  cry  of  alarm  was  raised  ;  and  all 
 escaped  but  one  man.  She  settled  down  on 
 his  loins,  and  pinned  him  to  the  ground. 
 The  neighbourhood  was  raised ;  hawsers 
 were  attached  to  the  masts ;  and  the  power 
 of  strong  arms  and  hearts  brought  to  raise 
 her — but  in  vain.  She  could  not  be  moved. 
 The  tide  was  making — it  would  float  her 
 soon ;  but  before  it  floated  her,  it  would 
 float  over  him.  All  further  etl'ort  was 
 abandoned.  A  minister  was  brought  to  the 
 sad  scene.  He  prayed,  and  the  people 
 wept.  On  and  on  came  the  remorseless  sea  ; 
 inch  by  inch  it  rose — cold  at  his  heart,  at 
 his  throat :  and  now  death  in  the  salt  foam 
 kisses  his  lips.  He  asks  tliat  a  handkerchief 
 be  thrown  over  his  head,  that  he  may  not 
 see  the  waves.  It  is  done;  and  with  a 
 weeping,  sobbing  crowd  around  him,  but 
 none  there  to  help,  at  length  the  wave 
 washes  over  his  head,  and  washes  away  the 
 prayer  that  I  hope,  through  our  blessed 
 Saviour,  opened  the  gates  of  heaven  for  his 
 departing  spirit.     They  could  not  help. 
 
 Dr.  Giithne. 
 
 BEREAVEMENT— Comfort  in. 
 
 So  part  we  sadly  in  this  troublous  world. 
 To  meet  with  joy  in  sweet  Jerusalem. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 A  lovely  young  lady,  in  her  near  approach 
 to  dissolution,  observing  her  father  over- 
 come with  grief,  thus  pertinently  remon- 
 strated  with  him  :  "  Why,  sir,  so  much 
 grief?  Had  an  off'er  of  marriage  been  made 
 me  by  one  who  in  himself  was  all  you  could 
 wish,  and  whose  situation  in  life  was  far 
 superior  to  mine,  but  whose  residence  must 
 be  in  a  remote  part  of  the  kingdom,  perhaps, 
 the  consideration  of  advantage  and  promo- 
 tion to  me  would  have  reconciled  you  to 
 my  removal,  though  it  would  have  been 
 little  other  than  a  separation  for  life.  But 
 I  am  now  about  to  be  promoted  incompara- 
 bly beyond  anything  that  could  have  oc- 
 curred in  this  world.  Then  why  this  re- 
 luctance ?  Our  next  meeting  will  be  la 
 circumstances  of  high  improvement,  joyful 
 and  perpetual." 
 
 "  Parted  friends  may  meet  again 
 
 When  the  storms  of  life  are  past ; 
 And  the  spirit,  freed  from  pain, 
 
 Bask  in  friendships  that  will  last. 
 Worldly  cares  may  sever  wide — 
 
 Distant  far  their  path  may  be — 
 But  the  bond  by  death  untied. 
 
 They  shall  once  again  be  free. 
 
BEREAVEMENT. 
 
 (;5 
 
 Parted  friends  again  may  meet, 
 From  the  toils  of  nature  free ; 
 
 Crowii'd  with  mercy,  oh  !  how  sweet 
 Will  eternal  friendship  he  !" 
 
 W.  NicJiolson. 
 
 We  have  lost  a  child — nay,  she  is  not  lost 
 to  you,  who  is  found  to  Clirist ;  she  is  not 
 sent  away,  but  only  sent  before ;  like  unto 
 a  star,  which,  going  out  of  our  sight,  doth 
 not  die  and  vanish,  but  shineth  in  another 
 hemisphere,  ye  see  her  not,  yet  she  doth 
 shine  in  another  country.  If  her  glass 
 were  but  a  short  hour,  what  she  wanteth  of 
 time  that  she  hath  gotten  of  eternity  ;  and 
 ye  have  to  rejoice  that  ye  have  now  some 
 plenishing  (furniture)  up  in  heaven.  Build 
 your  nest  upon  no  tree  here,  for  ye  see  God 
 hath  sold  the  forest  to  Death  ;  and  every 
 tree  whereupon  we  would  rest  is  ready  to 
 be  cut  down,  to  the  end  that  we  might 
 flee  and  mount  up,  and  build  upon  the 
 Eock,  and  dwell  in  the  holes  of  the  Rock. 
 S.  Rutherford. 
 
 Could  those  of  our  Christian  children 
 and  friends  whom  we  have  conveyed  to  tlie 
 chambers  of  the  dead,  and  over  whom  many 
 sorrowing  tears  liave  fallen  from  our  bleed- 
 ing hearts,  sjieak  to  us  from  their  shining 
 abodes  of  blessedness  above,  they  would 
 say,  "  W^eep  not  for  us,  we  have  escaped 
 all  sorrow,  all  sin,  all  temptation ;  we 
 arc  with  Jesus.  Weep  not  for  us,  but 
 rather  weep  for  yourselves,  that  you  are 
 yet  in  the  world  of  trial  aiid  woe ;  weep 
 for  your  children  that  are  yet  with  you, 
 unsaved  and  unprepared  for  iieavcn  ;  weep 
 for  your  friends  who  are  still  without  God 
 and  hope  in  the  world.  Weep  not  for  us, 
 but  rather  rejoice  that  through  death  we 
 have  gained  such  rest  and  peace  in  heaven." 
 John  Bate. 
 
 BEREAVEffiEUT— resign  of. 
 
 The  only  child  of  two  thoughtless  parents 
 died.  The  parents  became  on  this  account 
 not  only  sorrowful,  but  disposed  to  question 
 the  goodness  of  God.  They  even  petulantly 
 inquired  of  their  minister  how  it  could  be 
 possible  that  a  God  of  love  could  have 
 dealt  so  hardly  with  them.  To  this  ques- 
 tion the  pastor  replied  as  follows  : — "  You 
 would  know  from  me  why  God  has  taken 
 your  child  from  you.  Well,  then.  He  is 
 determined  to  have  from  your  family  at 
 least  one  member  in  heaven.  You  parents 
 would  not  prepare  to  enter  into  heaven ; 
 and  if  that  child  of  yours  had  been  allowed 
 to  remain,  you  would  also  have  prevented  it 
 from  going  thither.  Hear,  further,  a  para- 
 ble :  Thei-e  was  a  good  Shepherd,  who  had 
 prepared  costly  fodder  in  his  fold  for  his 
 shtep,  but  the  sheep  would  not  enter.  He 
 guve  Himself  much  concern  to  induce  them 
 
 to  enter,  but  they  always  retreated  further 
 backward  irom  the  open  door.  Then  He 
 took  a  lamb  from  the  tiock,  and  dragged  it 
 in ;  and  behold,  the  parent  sheep  ran  in 
 after  it !  The  good  Shepherd  is  Clirist ;  the 
 open  fold  is  heaven  ;  the  lamb,  your  child. 
 Have  ye  the  hearts  of  parents  ?  Prepare 
 to  follow  your  child.  It  has  been  taken 
 from  you  on  purpose  to  allure  you  to  the 
 skies."  Anon. 
 
 BEREAVEMENT— Joy  in. 
 
 Thou  hast  lost  thy  friend  ;  say  rather, 
 thou  hast  parted  with  him.  That  is 
 properly  lost  which  is  past  all  recovery, 
 which  we  cannot  hope  to  see  any  more. 
 It  is  not  so  witli  this  friend  fur  whom 
 thou  mournest.  He  is  only  gone  home  a 
 little  before  thee  ;  thou  art  following  him. 
 You,  too,  shall  meet  in  your  Father's  house, 
 and  enjoy  each  other  more  hapj/ily  than 
 you  could  have  done  here  below.  How 
 just  is  that  charge  of  the  blessed  apostle, 
 that  we  should  not  mourn  as  men  without 
 hope  for  those  who  sleep  in  Jesus.  Did 
 we  think  their  souls  vanished  into  air,  as  a 
 heathen  poet  profanely  expresses  it,  avd 
 their  bodies  resolved  into  dust,  without  all 
 possibility  of  reparation,  we  might  well 
 cry  out  our  eyes  for  the  utter  extinction 
 of  those  we  loved.  But  if  they  do  but 
 sleep,  they  shall  do  well.  Why  are  we 
 impatient  at  their  silent  repose  in  the  bed 
 of  death,  when  we  are  assured  of  their 
 awaking  to  glory  ?  ^p.  Mall. 
 
 BEREAVEMENT— Reliefs  in. 
 
 First  there  are  reliefs  arising  from  our 
 constitution.  There  is  a  self-healing  prin- 
 ciple in  nature.  Break  a  branch  from  a 
 tree,  &c.,  wound  the  body,  cut  the  fle'^h.  or 
 break  a  limb  ;  and  you  see  the  self-healing 
 power  exude  and  work.  It  is  so  in  the 
 soul.  Thought  succeeds  thought  like  the 
 waves  of  the  ocean,  and  each  tends  to  wear 
 out  the  impression  its  predecessor  had  made. 
 Secondly,  there  are  incidental  reliefs.  New 
 events,  new  engagements,  new  relationsh  ips, 
 tend  to  heal  the  wound.  Thirdly,  there 
 are  Christian  reliefs ;  the  assurance  of  after 
 life,  the  hope  of  a  future  reunion,  &c.  Such 
 are  the  reliefs.  These  like  the  (lowers  and 
 shrubs  of  a  lovely  garden  spring  up  around 
 our  hearts  and  cover  the  grave  of  our  sor- 
 rows and  trials  with  the  shadow  of  their 
 foliage.  Yes  ;  though  we  have  our  trials, 
 we  have  still  our  blessings. 
 "  Life's   dreariest    path   has    some    sweet 
 
 flowers, 
 Its  cloudiest  day  some  sun."    Br.  Tlionias. 
 
 BEREAVEMENT— Resignation  in. 
 Dear  as  thou  wert,  and  justly  dear. 
 
 We  will  not  weep  for  thee; 
 One  thought  shall  check  the  starting  tear, 
 
 it  is,  that  thou  art  free. 
 
66 
 
 BEEEAVEKE17T— BESETTING  SINS. 
 
 And  thus  shall  faith's  consoling  power 
 
 The  tears  of  love  restrain  ; 
 Oh  !  who  that  saw  thy  parting  hour 
 
 Could  wish  thee  here  again  ? 
 
 Triumphant  in  thy  closing  eye 
 
 Tlie  hope  of  glory  shone  ; 
 Joy  breathed  in  tliine  expiring  sigh. 
 
 To  think  the  fight  was  won. 
 
 Gently  the  passing  spirit  fled, 
 
 Sustained  by  grace  divine ; 
 Oh !  may  such  grace  on  me  be  shed. 
 
 To  make  my  end  like  thine  !  Dale. 
 
 BEHEAVEMENT— Support  in. 
 
 Your  dearest  Lord  hath  made  you  a 
 widow  that  ye  may  be  a  free  woman  for 
 Christ,  who  is  now  suiting  for  marringe 
 love  of  you ;  and,  therefore,  since  you  lie 
 alone  in  your  bed,  let  Christ  be  as  a  bundle 
 of  myrrh,  to  sleep  and  lie  all  the  night  be- 
 twixt your  breasts  (Cant,  i,  13),  and  then 
 your  bed  is  better  filled  than  before.  And 
 seeing  that  among  all  ci'OS?es  spoken  of  in 
 our  Lord's  word,  this  giveth  you  a  particu- 
 lar right  to  make  Gorl  your  husband  (who 
 was  not  so  yours  while  your  hvisband  was 
 alive),  read  God's  mercy  cut  of  this  visita- 
 tion ....  Let  God  and  men  and 
 an2:els  now  see  what  is  in  you.  The  Lord 
 hath  pierced  the  vessel,  it  will  be  known 
 whether  there  be  in  it  wine  or  water  :  let 
 your  faith  and  patience  be  seen,  that  it  may 
 be,  know"  tliat  your  only  beloved,  first  and 
 last,  hath  been  Christ ;  and,  therefore,  now, 
 were  your  whole  love  upon  Hiin,  that  He 
 alone  is  a  suitable  object  for  your  love  and 
 all  the  alJections  of  your  soul. 
 
 S.  Eutheijbrd. 
 
 Say,  why  should  friendship  grieve  for  those 
 'who  safe  arrive  on  Canaan's  shore  ? 
 
 Released  from  all  their  hurtful  foes, 
 They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 
 
 How  many  painful  days  on  earth 
 
 Their  fainting  spirits  number'd  o'er! 
 
 Now  they  enjoy  a  heavenly  birth ; 
 They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 
 
 Dear  is  the  spot  where  Christians  sleep. 
 And  sweet  the  strain  which  angels  pour. 
 
 0,  why  should  we  iu  anguish  weep  ? 
 They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 
 
 Secure  from  every  mortal  care. 
 
 By  sin  and  sorrow  vexed  no  more; 
 
 Eternal  happiness  they  share 
 
 Who  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 
 
 To  Zion's  peaceful  courts  above. 
 In  faitli  triumphant  may  we  soar  j 
 
 Embracing  in  the  arms  of  love 
 
 The  friends  not  lost,  but  goue  before. 
 
 On  Jordan's  banks  whene'er  we  come, 
 And  hear  the  swelling  waters  roar ; 
 
 Father,  convey  us  safely  home 
 
 To  friends  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 BESETTING  SINS. 
 
 Almost  every  tree  has  its  tap-root,  which 
 goes  down  straight  into  the  earth  as  the 
 trunk  goes  into  the  air;  and  until  that 
 root  is  cut  the  tree  will  stand  and  grow, 
 no  matter  how  the  fibres  and  roots  be 
 injured.  Besetting  sins  are  olten  the  tap- 
 root of  the  tree  of  sin,  which  bears  i'ruit 
 unto  deatli.  One  sin  unmortified  may 
 destroy  the  soul.  One  lust  maintained,  in 
 spite  of  conscience,  and  sin  still  lives. 
 
 G.  S.  Boives. 
 
 BESETTING  SKTS— Consequence  of. 
 
 Just  as  certtiinly  as  a  single  match  may 
 explode  a  whole  magazine,  or  lay  a  town 
 in  ashes — ^just  as  surely  as  a  single  leak 
 may  sink  the  proudest  vessels  that  ever 
 marched  the  seas — so  one  solitary  sin,  if 
 sufiered  to  invade  and  rule  the  heart,  will 
 destroy  the  piety  of  the  holiest  saint.  If 
 other  illustrations  of  this  principle  were 
 needed,  we  have  them  unhappily  in  abun- 
 dance. Look  at  Solomon.  How  devout 
 and  holy  before  his  "  heart  went  after 
 strange  women  !"  How  shameless  a  liber- 
 tine theieafter  !  Look  at  Juilas,  the  Balaam 
 of  the  New  Testament.  So  corrupted  and 
 accursed  did  he  become,  through  the  sin 
 of  greed,  that  he  could  sell  his  Kedeemer 
 for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Look  at  Demas. 
 Nay,  look  not  so  far  away;  look  around 
 you,  at  those  whom  you  know  as  having 
 once  run  well,  but  also,  alas  !  as  having 
 been  utterly  overthrown  by  some  besetting 
 sin.  One  was  overcome  by  the  sin  of  in- 
 temperance. Another  fell  like  Demas. 
 When  you  first  knew  him,  he  was  an 
 humble -minded,  devoted,  zealous  Christian; 
 but  God  greatly  prospered  him  in  busi- 
 ness, and  he  was  not  proof  against  "  the 
 deceitfulness  of  riches."  His  love  of 
 money  increased  in  the  ratio  of  his  in- 
 creasing possessions,  and  ate  away  his  piety 
 as  doth  a  canker.  Young  women  also  you 
 have  known,  bidding  fair  for  honorable 
 distinction  in  the  ranks  of  Christian  de- 
 votedness,  who  afterwards  yielded  to  the 
 seductions  of  worldly  pleasures  as  they 
 solicited  them  in  the  i^oluptuous  dance  or 
 the  drama ;  who,  like  other  moths,  were 
 blinded  with  the  bluzc,  and  at  last  came 
 forth  with  the  wings  of  their  spiritual  life 
 all  scorchedandshrivelled,  if  indeed  through 
 tlie  mercy  of  God  they  did  not  perish  in 
 the  flames.  T.  Akroijd. 
 
 BESETTING  SINS— Cure  of. 
 
 A  traveller  in  Burmah  fell  asleep  upon 
 the  damp  hot  ground.     He  was  awakened 
 
BBSETTINS  SIKS— BIBLE. 
 
 67 
 
 by  pricking  pains  over  all  the  surface  of 
 his  hody.  On  getting  up  he  discovered 
 that  a  swarm  of  small  gray  leeches  had 
 fastened  on  his  flesh,  and  were  busy  sucking 
 his  blood.  His  first  impulse  was  to  tear 
 them  oft'  with  his  hand.  A  native  servant, 
 observing  his  purpose,  interposed  with 
 earnest  entreaties  that  he  should  not  touch 
 them.  He  knew  that  if  the  creatures 
 were  violently  torn  off,  a  portion  of  their 
 bodies  would  remain,  and  produce  disease 
 by  their  corruption.  Forthwith  the  ser- 
 vant gathered  a  quantity  of  a  pungent 
 herb,  steeped  it  in  water,  and  with  the 
 ■water  he  bathed  his  master.  The  leeches 
 all  dropped  off  harmless.  The  man  went 
 through  the  bath  scathless,  but  it  paralysed 
 and  destroyed  his  tormentors. 
 
 If  the  Christian,  through  worldliness, 
 or  any  other  cause,  has  contracted  any 
 shis  wliich  are  clinging  to  him  and  threat- 
 ening death,  let  him  awake  up  to  the  fact, 
 but  not  attempt  to  destroy  them  in  his 
 own  strength,  or  he  may  produce  serious 
 consequences.  Let  him  go  to  the  fountain 
 of  the  Saviour's  blood  ;  there  is  a  remedy 
 uhich  will  cleanse  them  all  away  ;  will  be 
 destruction  to  his  sins,  but  life  to  him. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 BESETTIITG  SIFS— Danger  of. 
 
 A  man  who  had  gone  to  California  to 
 seek  gold  was  returning  with  his  gains  in 
 the  "  Central  America,"  when  she  took 
 fire  on  her  passage  to  New  York.  Wishful 
 to  preserve  his  hard-earned  treasure,  he 
 disrobed  himself  of  all  his  clothing,  and 
 tied  his  precious  gold-dust  round  his  waist. 
 With  this  he  plunged  in  the  waters  to 
 escape  the  burning  ship,  with  the  hope 
 of  reaching  land,  which  was  not  far  away. 
 Eut,  alas  !  he  had  not  swam  far  before  he 
 found  his  gold  too  heavy  for  him.  He 
 could  not  bear  up  with  it,  and  as  a  con- 
 sequence he  sank  into  the  deep  waters, 
 never  to  rise  again. 
 
 So  it  will  be  with  those  Christians  who  try 
 to  get  to  heaven  with  besetting  sins  about 
 them.  Whatever  else  tliey  give  up,  if  these 
 cling  to  them,  they  will  ultimately  sink 
 them  into  hell.  Ihtd. 
 
 BESETTIIIG  SIITS— Influence  of. 
 
 A  sailor  remarks,  "  Sailing  from  Cuba 
 ■we  thought  we  had  gained  sixty  miles  one 
 day  in  our  course;  but  at  the  next  obser- 
 vation we  found  we  had  lost  more  than 
 thirty.  It  was  an  imdercurrent.  The 
 ship  had  been  going  forward  by  the  wind, 
 but  going  back  by  the  current."  So  a 
 man's  course  in  religion  may  often  seem  to 
 be  right  and  progressive,  but  the  under- 
 current of  his  besetting  sins  is  driving  him 
 the  very  contrary  way  to  what  he  thinks. 
 Dr.  Cheever. 
 
 BIBLE— Adaptation  of  the. 
 
 It  is  indeed  an  admirable  evidence  of  the 
 truth  and  Divine  origin  of  the  sacred 
 volume,  that  for  its  important  practical 
 purposes — especially  for  the  great  end  of 
 the  soul's  salvation — it  is  just  as  intelligible 
 to  the  humble  but  pious  cottager,  as  it  is 
 to  the  most  learned  and  cultivated  among 
 mankind.  The  rough  Greenlander  and 
 Esquimaux,  the  untutored  inhabitant  of 
 New  Zealand,  or  Otaheite,  the  wandering 
 North  American  Indian,  the  superstitious 
 and  degraded  Hindoo  and  Chinese^  the 
 Hottentot  of  South  Africa,  the  negro  and 
 Malagassee — ignorant  and  uncultivated 
 man  in  almost  every  part  of  the  world — 
 have  all  been  found  capable,  with  the  aid 
 of  the  most  simple  Christian  teaching,  of 
 understanding  the  Holy  Scriptures,  so  far 
 as  relates  to  their  main  purpose — I  mean 
 that  of  instructing  us  in  the  knowledge  of 
 God  and  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord;  and 
 the  same  book  has  been  the  means  of  im- 
 parting the  same  knowledge  to  the  polite 
 and  civilised  Greek  and  Roman,  as  well  as 
 to  the  Bacons,  Lockes,  Boyles,  Addisons, 
 and  Newtons  of  the  modern  times— the 
 most  refined  and  philosophical  of  our 
 species.  J.  J.  Gurney. 
 
 There  is  not  a  son  of  Adam,  whatever 
 his  condition  may  be,  whether  in  pro-perity 
 or  in  adversity,  in  temptation  or  deliverance, 
 in  health  or  sickness,  but  lie  may  find  in  this 
 Book  some  balmy  comfort  to  the  quieting 
 of  his  conscience,  and  to  the  advaneemeut 
 of  his  salvation.  In  short,  the  Holy  Bible 
 is  the  great  light  to  our  paths,  our  com- 
 fort in  aifliction,  our  shield  and  sword 
 against  Satan,  the  school  of  wisdom,  the 
 testimony  of  God's  favour,  and  the  food 
 and  nourishment  of  our  souls.     T.  Bankes. 
 
 BIBLE— Atithenticity  of  the. 
 
 There  are  four  grand  arguments  for  the 
 truth  of  the  Bible.  1.  The  miracles  it 
 records.  2.  The  prophecies  it  contains. 
 3,  The  goodness  of  the  doctrine.  4.  The 
 moral  character  of  the  Penman.  The 
 miracles  flow  from  Divine  power,  the  pro- 
 phecies from  Divine  understanding,  the 
 excellence  of  the  doctrine  from  Divine 
 goodness,  and  the  moral  character  of  tlie 
 Penman  from  Divine  purity.  Thus  the 
 Bible  stands  upon  four  immovable  pillars, 
 — the  power,  the  understanding,  the  good- 
 ness, and  the  purity  of  God.     D.  Sim^^so)!. 
 
 BIBLE — Authenticity  and  Genuineness  of 
 the. 
 The  authenticity  refers  to  the  matter  in 
 the  Bible  as  being  true ;  the  genuineness 
 refers  to  the  writers  of  the  Bible,  as  being 
 the  actual  persons  to  whom  the  several 
 parts  are  attributed.  John  Bate. 
 
C8 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 BIBLE— Circulation  of  the. 
 
 Tlie  British  and  Forcii^ii  BIbie  Society 
 may  be  adduced  as  forming  the  most  re- 
 iniirk^ble  illustration  of  the  progress  made 
 during  the  present  century,  in  leavening 
 the  world  with  the  Word  of  God.  Previous 
 to  its  formation,  in  180 1,  there  was  not 
 one  society  in  existence  whose  sole  object 
 was  the  distribution  of  the  Bible  in  all 
 lands.  There  are  now  upwards  of  50  prin- 
 cipal and  9000  auxiliary  Bible  Societies. 
 In  1804  tlie  Bible  was  accessible  to  only 
 200  millions  of  men.  Now  it  exists  in 
 tongues  spoken  by  600  millions.  The 
 London  Bible  Society  alone  sends  forth 
 annually  upwards  of  1,787,000  copies. 
 During  the  last  sixty  years  it  has  issued 
 39,315,226  Bibles  in  163  ditferent  lan- 
 guages, and  in  143  translations  never 
 before  printed.  Its  receipts  for  1862 
 amount  to  £168,443. 
 
 It  surely  cannot  fail  to  fill  the  heart  of 
 every  Christian  with  deepest  thankfulness 
 to  contemplate  the  glorious  achievement, 
 of  the  last  sixty  years,  in  circulating  the 
 Word  of  God.  The  Church,  like  the  angel 
 seen  in  prophetic  vision,  has  been  flying 
 with  the  everlasting  gospel  to  every  nation, 
 and  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people.  It 
 has  given  the  Bible  to  the  inhabitants  of 
 the  old  lands  of  Egypt,  Ethiopia,  Arabia, 
 Palestine,  Asia  Minoi-,  and  Persia;  to  the 
 indomitable  Circassian  ;  the  mountaineers 
 of  Afghanistan ;  to  tribes  of  India  speak- 
 ing thirty-two  ditferent  langu.iges  or  dia- 
 lects; to  the  inhabitants  of  Burmah,  Assam, 
 and  Siam  ;  to  the  islanders  of  Madagascar 
 and  Ceylon ;  to  the  Malays  and  Javanese 
 of  the  eastern  seas;  to  the  millions  of 
 China,  and  the  wandering  Kalmuck  beyond 
 her  great  wall;  to  the  brave  NewZealander ; 
 to  the  teeming  inhabitants  of  the  island 
 groups  which  are  scattered  over  the  Soui-h- 
 ern  Pacilic ;  to  the  African  races,  from  the 
 Cape  to  Sierra  Leone;  to  the  Esquimaux 
 and  Greenlander  within  the  Arctic  Circle; 
 and  to  the  Indian  tribes  of  North  America. 
 All  are  now  furnished  with  a  translation  of 
 that  wonderful  volume,  which,  with  the 
 light  of  the  universal  living  Spirit  of  God, 
 at  once  reveals  to  man,  in  every  age  and 
 clime,  his  lost  and  miserable  condition,  and 
 tells  him  of  a  remedy  that  is  adapted  to 
 meet  every  want  of  his  being— to  rodeem 
 him,  by  a  moral  power  it  alone  can  aiibrd, 
 from  all  sin  and  misery,  and  to  bring  him 
 into  the  glorious  fellowship  of  the  holiness, 
 the  blessedness,  and  joy  of  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  all  the  family  of  God  in  earth  and 
 heaven ! 
 
 Tlie  American  Bible  Society  circulates 
 npv.-ards  of  600,000  copies  of  the  Word  of 
 God  annually,  at  home  and  abroad.  Besides 
 assisting  in  publishing  translations  issued 
 by  other  societies,  it  has  been  at  the  sole 
 
 expen'^e  of  publishing  the  Armen'o-Turkish 
 and  Modern  Syriac  Ni!w  Testament;  the 
 entire  Bible  for  the  Burmese,  a!id  also  for 
 the  Sandwich  Islands  ;  the  Ojibbeway  New 
 Testament ;  the  Gospels,  or  some  portion 
 of  the  Bible,  into  the  languages  of  the 
 Sioux,  Mohawk,  Seneca,  and  Cherokee 
 Indians.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 BIBLE— Company  of  the. 
 
 By  opening  this  volume  we  may  at  any 
 time  walk  in  the  garden  of  Eden  with 
 Adam ;  sit  in  the  ark  with  Noah ;  share 
 the  hospitality  or  witness  the  faith  of 
 Abraham ;  ascend  the  mount  of  God  with 
 Moses;  unite  in  the  secret  devotions  of 
 David,  or  listen  to  the  eloquent  and  im- 
 p;issioned  address  of  Paul.  Nay,  more,  we 
 may  here  converse  with  Him  who  spake  as 
 never  man  spake;  participate  with  the 
 sjiirits  of  the  just  made  perfect,  in  the  em- 
 ployment and  hapjiiness  of  heaven ;  and 
 enjoy  sweet  communion  with  the  Father  of 
 our  spirits  through  His  Sou  Jesus  Christ. 
 Such  is  the  society  to  which  the  Scriptures 
 introduce  us;  such  the  examples  which 
 they  present  to  our  imitation.  Dr.  Payson. 
 
 BIBLE — Consolation  in  the. 
 
 Millions  now  in  heaven  derived  the 
 strongest  and  most  invaluable  consolation 
 from  this  Book;  and  scarcely  can  we  fis 
 our  eyes  upon  a  single  passage  in  this 
 wonderful  Book,  which  has  not  afforded 
 comfort  or  instruction  to  thousands,  and 
 been  wet  with  tears  of  penitential  sorrow 
 or  grateful  joy,  drawn  from  eyes  that  will 
 weep  no  more.  Dr.  Fayson. 
 
 BIBLE — The,  in  Death. 
 
 Newton  laid  not  his  dying  head  on  his 
 'Principia,'  but  on  his  Bible;  Cowpcr 
 not  on  his  '  Task,'  but  on  his  Testament ; 
 Hall  not  on  his  wide  fame,  but  on  his 
 humble  hope ;  Michael  Angelo  not  on  that 
 pencil  which  alone  coped  with  the  gran- 
 deurs of  the  "  Judgment,"  but  on  that 
 grace  wliich  for  him  shore  the  judgment  of 
 its  terrors;  Coleridge,  not  on  his  limitless 
 genius,  but  on  mercy  for  praise,  to  be 
 ibrgiven  for  fame.  Often  must  the  wan- 
 derer mid  American  forests  lay  his  head 
 upon  a  rude  log,  while  above  him  is  the 
 abyss  of  stars.  Thus  the  weary,  heavy- 
 laden,  dying  Christian  leans  upon  the 
 rugged  and  narrow  Cross,  but  looks  up  the 
 while  to  the  beaming  canopy  of  immortal 
 life — to  those  things  which  are  above. 
 
 G.  Gllfillan. 
 
 You  see  the  situation  I  am  in ;  I  have 
 not  many  days  to  live :  I  am  glad  you 
 have  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  the 
 tranquillity  of  my  last  moments.  But  it  is 
 not  tranquillity  and  composure  alone;  it 
 is  joy  and  triumph ;  it  is  complete  e.\ul- 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 69 
 
 tatlon.  And  whence  does  this  exultation 
 spi-ing  ?  From  that  book  (pointing  to  a 
 Bible  that  lay  on  a  table),  from  that  book, 
 too  much  neglected,  indeed,  but  which 
 contains  invaluable  treasures  !  treasures  of 
 joy  and  rejoicing !  for  it  makes  us  certain 
 that  this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality. 
 Dr.  Leechman. 
 
 The  Rev.  James  Harvey  is  well  known 
 to  have  been  an  elegant  scholar,  and  a  be- 
 liever in  the  Bible,  with  its  most  distin- 
 guished truths.  When  he  apprehended 
 liimself  to  be  on  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
 with  eternity  in  full  view,  he  wrote  to  a 
 friend  at  a  distance  to  tell  him  what  were 
 nis  sentiments  in  that  awful  situation.  "  1 
 have  been  too  fond,"  says  he,  "  of  reading 
 every  tiling  valuable  and  elegant  that  has 
 been  penned  in  our  language,  and  been 
 peculiarly  charmed  with  the  historians, 
 orators,  and  poets  of  antiquity;  but  were 
 I  to  renew  my  studies,  I  would  take  my 
 leave  of  those  accomplished  tritles;  I  wovdd 
 resign  the  delights  of  wits,  amusements, 
 and  eloquence,  and  devote  my  attention  to 
 the  Scriptures  of  truth."  B.  Simpson. 
 
 BIBLE— Destruction  of  the. 
 
 Destroy  this  volume,  as  the  enemies  of 
 human  happiness  have  vainly  endeavoured 
 to  do,  and  you  render  us  profoundly  ig- 
 norant of  our  Creator,  of  tlie  formation  of 
 the  world  which  we  inhabit,  of  the  origin 
 and  progenitors  of  our  race,  of  our  present 
 day  and  future  destination,  and  consign  us 
 through  life  to  the  dominion  of  fancy, 
 doubt,  and  conjecture. 
 
 Destroy  this  volume,  and  you  deprive  us 
 of  religion,  with  all  the  animating  con- 
 solations, hopes,  and  prospects  which  it 
 aifords,  and  leave  us  nothing  but  the 
 choosing  miserable  alternative  !)  between 
 the  cheerless  gloom  of  infidelity  and  the 
 monstrous  shadows  of  paganism. 
 
 Destroy  this  volume,  and  you  unpeople 
 heaven ;  bar  for  ever  its  doors  against  the 
 wretched  posterity  of  Adam  ;  restore  to 
 the  king  of  terrors  his  fatal  sting ;  bury 
 hope  in  the  same  grave  which  receives  our 
 bodies;  consign  all  who  have  died  before 
 us  to  eternal  sleep  or  endless  misery  ;  and 
 allow  us  to  expect  nothing  at  death  but  a 
 similar  fate. 
 
 In  a  word,  destroy  this  volume,  and  you 
 take  from  us  at  once  everything  which 
 prevents  existence  becoming  of  all  curses 
 the  greatest;  you  blot  out  the  sun,  dry 
 up  the  ocean,  and  take  away  the  atmo- 
 sphere of  the  moral  world,  and  degrade 
 man  to  a  situation  from  which  he  may 
 look  up  with  envy  to  that  of  the  brutes 
 that  perish,  Br.  Faysun. 
 
 BIBLE— Difficulties  in  the. 
 
 That  there  ai-e  difficulties  in  the  Bible 
 
 no  one  need  deny;  but  these  difficulties  do 
 not  affect  its  Divine  origin,  any  more  than 
 the  difficulties  in  nature  affect  the  truth  of 
 its  Divine  origin.  Because  a  man  cannot 
 comprehend  all  the  difficulties  which  meet 
 him  in  very  many  of  the  pages  of  the  book 
 of  nature,  would  he  be  wise  in  saying  that 
 God  was  not  the  Creator  of  it  ?  How, 
 then,  can  he  be  wise  who,  for  a  similar 
 reason,  denounces  the  Bible  as  the  book 
 of  God  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 BIBLE— Discoveries  of  the. 
 
 In  the  fabulous  records  of  pngan  an- 
 tiquity, we  read  of  a  mirror  endowed  with 
 properties  so  rare,  that  by  looking  into  it 
 its  possessor  could  discover  any  object 
 which  he  wished  to  see,  however  remote  ; 
 and  discover  with  equal  ease  persons  and 
 things  above,  below,  behind,  and  before 
 him.  Such  a  mirror,  but  infinitely  more 
 valuable  than  this  fictitious  glass,  do  we 
 possess  in  the  Bible;  by  employing  it  in  a 
 pi'oper  manner  we  may  discern  objects  and 
 events,  past,  present,  and  to  come.  Here 
 we  may  contemplate  the  all-enfolding  circle 
 of  the  eternal  mind,  and  behold  a  perfect 
 portrait  of  Him  whom  no  mortal  eye  hath 
 seen,  drawn  by  his  own  unerring  hand. 
 
 Br.  Payson. 
 
 BIBLE— Dispensing  with  the. 
 
 Many  will  say,  "  I  can  find  God  without 
 the  help  of  "the  Bible,  or  church,  or 
 minister."  Very  well.  Do  so  if  you  can. 
 The  Ferry  Company  would  feel  no  jealousy 
 of  a  man  who  should  prefer  to  swim  to 
 New  York.  Let  him  do  so  if  he  is  able, 
 and  we  will  talk  about  it  on  the  other 
 shore ;  but  probably  trying  to  swim  would 
 be  the  thing  that  would  bring  him  quickest 
 to  the  boat.  So  God  would  have  no  jealousy 
 of  a  man's  going  to  heaven  without  the 
 aid  of  the  Bible,  or  church,  or  minister; 
 but  let  him  try  to  do  so,  and  it  will  be  the 
 surest  way  to  bring  him  back  to  them 
 for  assistance.  H.  W.  Beevher. 
 
 BIBLE— Divinity  of  the. 
 
 I  will  briefly  show,  by  one  illustration, 
 the  three  kinds  of  evidence  by  which  we 
 may  prove  to  a  Roman  Catholic  that  the 
 Bible  is  the  Word  of  God.  Suppose  an  in- 
 dividual has  been  an  invalid,  and  after  six 
 weeks'  illness  has  been  restored  to  perfect 
 health  and  strength  by  means  of  a  tonic 
 prescriljed  by  some  physician  ;  suppose  the 
 tonic  to  be  port  wine.  A  stranger  comes 
 to  this  recovered  man  and  says,  "  It  is  not 
 port  wine  which  you  have  been  taking,  it 
 is  merely  water  from  the  ditch."  What 
 would  be  his  reply  ?  He  might  say,  "  I 
 will  convince  you  from  three  distinct 
 sources  that  that  which  I  am  taking  is 
 port  wine."  First,  he  brings  the  wine 
 merchant;  and  the  wine  merchant  states 
 
70 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 that  he  saw  the  fjrapes  in  the  vineyard,  he 
 snw  them  prepared  in  the  wine-press,  he 
 siw  the  wine  put  into  the  cask — drawn  off 
 into  hottles — placed  in  the  cliamber  of  the 
 invalid.  This  is  external  evidence.  He 
 next  calls  the  chemist,  and  the  chemist 
 states  that  he  has  subjected  the  wine  to 
 the  usual  and  appropriate  tests,  and  he  is 
 sure  it  is  port  wine.  That  is  internal  evi- 
 dence. But  the  third  witness  is  the  re- 
 covered patient;  and  he  says,  "  I  can  add 
 the  experimental  to  these  evidences ;  I  was 
 reduced  to  the  verge  of  the  grave  by  de- 
 bility, and  this  has  raised  me  up,  renewed 
 my  vigour,  imparted  strength  to  my  con- 
 stitution ;  I  am  persuaded  that  it  is  not 
 water,  but  an  efficacious  tonic  that  T  have 
 taken."  It  is  so  with  this  book.  All  three 
 evidences  rest  on  it  as  the  glory  on  the 
 mercy-seat;  but  to  a  Christian,  taught  by 
 the  Spirit  of  God,  his  heartfelt  experience 
 is  the  strongest  evidence.  "  I  have  felt 
 the  glorious  Gospel  in  the  inmost  recesses 
 of  my  heart,"  and  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have 
 believed;"  no  sophistries  or  subtleties  of 
 men  can  disprove  this  to  be  "  the  wisdom 
 of  God,  and  the  grace  of  God  unto  salva- 
 tion." Dr.  J.  Cumming. 
 
 The  Bible  !  hast  thou  ever  heard 
 Of  sucli  a  book  ?  the  author,  God  himself; 
 The  subject,  God  and  man,  salvation,  life 
 And  death — eternal  life — eternal  death — 
 Dread  words !  whose  meaning  has  no  end, 
 
 no  bounds ! 
 Most  w(mdrous  book  !  bright  candle  of  the 
 
 Lord ! — 
 This  b  )ok— this  holy  book,  on  every  line 
 Mark'd  with  the  seal  of  high  divinity, 
 On  every  leaf  bedew'd  with  drops  of  love 
 Divine  ;  and  with  the  eternal  heraldry 
 And  signature  of  God  Almighty  stamp'd 
 From  lirst  to  last ;  this  ray  of  sacred  light, 
 This  lamp,  from  olf  the  everlasting  throne, 
 Mercy  took  down,  and  in  the  night  of  Time 
 Stood,  casting  on  the  dark  her   gracious 
 
 bow  ; 
 And  evermore  beseeching  men,  with  tears 
 And    earnest  sighs,   to   read,  believe,  and 
 
 live.  R.  Pollock. 
 
 BIBLE — Experimental  Evidence  to  the. 
 
 I\Iy  next  proof  consists  of  experimental 
 evidence.  In  order  to  appreciate  it,  I 
 would  bid  tlie  objector  come  with  me  to 
 some  sequestered  glen  amid  the  hills  and 
 valleys  of  Scotland.  I  will  take  him  to 
 the  patriarchal  occupant  of  a  lonely  cabin, 
 where  you  may  behold  the  gray-headed 
 man,  amid  intermingling  smiles  and  tears, 
 bending,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  over 
 one  book — "the  big  ha'  Bible."  Let  us 
 ask  him,  "  How  do  you  know  that  that 
 l)nok  called  the  Bible  is  the  book  of  God  ? 
 Vou  never  read  the  writings  of  a  Paley,  the 
 
 analogy  of  a  Butler ;  yon  never  studied  the 
 credibility  of  Lardner,  nor  the  eloquent  de- 
 monstrations of  a  Chalmers ;  how  came  you 
 to  believe  it  ?"  "Come  to  believe  it  ?"  would 
 the  peasant  saj' ;  "  I  have  felt  it  in  my 
 heart  and  conscience  to  be  the  book  of  God  ! 
 it  has  taught  me  the  truths  I  never  knew 
 before,  it  has  given  me  a  peace  the  world 
 could  never  give ;  it  has  calmed  my  beating 
 heart,  it  has  stanched  my  bleeding  wounds, 
 it  has  kindled  within  me  the  love  of  God 
 and  hopes  of  glory.  Not  the  book  of  God ! 
 I  am  convinced  of  it  as  that  I  am  here  a 
 living,  bx-eathing  man."    Dr.  J.  Cumming. 
 
 BIBLE— Excellence  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  is  a  rock  of  diamonds,  a  chain 
 of  pearls,  the  sword  of  the  Spirit ;  a  chart 
 by  which  the  Christian  sails  to  eternity; 
 the  map  by  which  he  daily  walks ;  the  sun- 
 dial by  which  he  sets  his  life ;  the  balance 
 in  which  he  weighs  his  actions. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 BIBLE— Chief  Excellence  of  the. 
 
 The  Bil)le  is  like  Aaron's  breastplate,  in 
 that  it  is  decked  with  jewels,  and  enriched 
 with  fair  embroidery  of  gold,  and  blue,  and 
 purple,  and  scarlet ;  but  what  ennobles  it 
 far  above  the  flaming  gems  and  cunning 
 workmanship,  is  the  insertion,  in  the  midst, 
 of  God's  own  oracle — the  Urim  ami  Thum- 
 mim — wiierein  the  Holy  One  vouchsafes  to 
 reveal  Himself  to  mortals,  in  answer  to  the 
 question,  "  Wiiat  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?" 
 J.  Stotighton. 
 
 BIBLE— Familiarity  with  the. 
 
 Of  this  holy  book  it  is  truly  said  that 
 familiarity  increases  love ;  and  evei'y  day's 
 companionship  may  bring  some  new  enjoy- 
 ment. Other  authors  pall  upon  us  in  time ; 
 but  Moses  and  the  prophets,  evangelists, 
 and  apostles,  never.  Unlike  the  fairest 
 productions  of  human  wit,  which  (as  has 
 been  well  said)  wither  in  our  hands,  and 
 lose  their  fragrance  like  gathered  flowers, 
 these  plants  of  paradise  become,  as  we  are 
 accustomed  to  them,  still  more  and  more 
 beautiful ;  their  bloom  appears  to  be  daily 
 heightened,  fresh  odours  are  emitted,  and 
 new  sweets  extracted  fi-om  them.  He  who 
 hath  once  tasted  their  excellence  will  desire 
 to  taste  them  yet  again;  and  he  who  tastes 
 them  ofteuest  will  relish  them  best. 
 
 Dr.  G.  Osborn. 
 
 BIBLE— Fearing  the. 
 
 Nothing  save  the  essential  truths  of 
 God's  Word  can  give  comfort  and  true 
 peace  either  living  or  dying.  And  in 
 living,  if  men  are  not  resting  on  the  Word 
 of  God,  they  can  at  least  have  no  rest  in 
 denying  it.  The  very  fear  lest  the  Bible  be 
 true  is  enough  to  mar  all  earthly  enjoyment. 
 A  celebrated  intidel  said  one  day  to  a  friend 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 71 
 
 of  his  who  hnd  imbibed  the  same  principlos, 
 "  There  is  one  thing  that  mars  all  the 
 plea-;ures  of  my  life."  "  Indeed  !"  replied 
 his  friend,  "  what  is  that  ?"  He  answered, 
 "  /  am  afraid  the  Bible  is  true.  If  I  could 
 know  for  certain  that  death  is  an  eternal 
 sleep,  I  should  be  happy :  my  joy  would  be 
 complete !  Bat  here  is  tlie  thorn  that 
 stings  me.  This  is  the  sword  that  pierces 
 my  very  soul ; — if  the  Bible  is  true,  I  am 
 lost  for  ever."  Anon. 
 
 BIBLE— Fulness  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  is  a  sea,  having  its  deep 
 senses,  tiie  fulness  of  prophetic  mystery 
 into  which  many  rivers  liave  run.  But 
 there  are,  besides  this,  sweet  and  clear 
 rivers,  fresh  springs,  that  yield  water  unto 
 eternal  life ;  gootl  words,  a  honeycomb, 
 acceptable  sentences,  which  may  refresh 
 tlie  mind  of  the  hearers  with  spiritual 
 drink,  aud  delight  them  with  the  sweet- 
 ness of  moral  precepts.  Various,  there- 
 fore, are  the  streams  of  the  Bible.  Thou 
 hast  what  thou  niayest  drink  lirst,  what 
 thou  mayest  drink  second,  and  what  thou 
 mayest  drink  last.  Ambrose. 
 
 Nearly  six  thousand  years  this  earth  has 
 been  producing  its  fruits,  grain,  minerals, 
 fishes,  birds,  beasts,  &c.,  for  its  ever  in- 
 creasing inhabitants ;  but  with  all  the  con- 
 stantly accumulating  life,  power,  wealth, 
 and  happiness,  which  come  forth  from  tlie 
 bosom  of  earth,  there  is  now  no  more  sign 
 of  exhaustion  than  tliere  was  at  the  be- 
 ginning. So  with  all  the  untold  benefits, 
 iiioral,  intellectual,  piiysical,  political,  and 
 spiritual,  wiiich  have  been  drawn  from  the 
 Bible,  it  never  seemed  more  replete  with 
 blessings  for  the  world  than  now.  The 
 more  there  is  taken  the  more  there  is  left. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 BIBLE— Gatlierings  of  the. 
 
 Shining  forth  from  the  excellent  glory, 
 its  light  has  been  reflected  on  a  myriad 
 of  intervening  objects,  till  it  has  been  at 
 length  attempered  for  our  earthly  vision. 
 It  now  beams  upon  us  at  once  from  the 
 heart  of  men  and  from  the  countenance  of 
 n;iture...It  has  gathered  new  beauty  from 
 the  works  of  creation,  and  new  warmth 
 and  new  power  from  the  passions  of  clay. 
 It  has  pressed  into  its  service  the  animals 
 of  the  forest,  the  flowers  of  the  fleld,  the 
 stars  of  heaven,  all  the  elements  of  nature. 
 The  lion  sjjurniug  the  sands  of  the  desert, 
 the  wild  roe  leaping  over  the  mountains, 
 the  lamb  led  in  silence  to  the  slaughter, 
 the  goat  speeding  to  the  wilderness,  the 
 rose  blossoming  in  Sharon,  the  lily  droop- 
 ing in  the  valley,  the  apple-tree  bowing 
 under  its  fruit,  the  great  rock  shadowing  a 
 weary  land,  the  river  gladdening  the  dry 
 place,  the   moon   aud  the  morning  star, 
 
 Carmel  by  the  sea,  ana  Tabor  among  the 
 mountains,  the  dew  from  the  womb  of  the 
 monnng,  the  rain  upon  the  mown  grass, 
 the  rainbow  encompassing  the  landscape; 
 the  light,  God's  shadow  ;  the  thunder.  His 
 voice;  the  wind  and  the  eartliquake.  His 
 footsteps ;  all  such  varied  objects  are  made 
 as  if  naturally  designed  from  their  creation 
 to  represent  Him  to  whom  the  book  and 
 all  its  emblems  point.  Thus  the  quick 
 spirit  of  the  book  has  ransacked  creation 
 to  lay  its  treasures  on  Jehovah's  altar — 
 united  the  innumerable  rays  of  a  far- 
 streaming  glory  on  the  little  hill  Calvary — 
 and  woven  a  garland  for  the  bleeding  brow 
 of  Immanuel,  the  flowers  of  which  have 
 been  culled  from  the  garden  of  a  universe. 
 G.  Gilfillan. 
 
 BIBLE— God's  Ladder. 
 
 Sin  is  Satan's  ladder.  It  has  its  top  on 
 earth,  its  foot  in  hell.  God's  ladder  has 
 its  foot  on  earth  and  its  too  in  heaven. 
 Such  a  ladder  is  the  Bible.  And  it  is  im- 
 possible for  any  human  being  with  under- 
 standing, heart  and  soul,  to  place  foot  upon 
 it  and  traverse  it  step  by  step,  either  to 
 reach  hell  or  even  to  remain  a  wicked  or 
 worldly  minded  man.  It  must,  of  inevitable 
 necessity,  land  him  in  heaven.  Just  as 
 the  sun,  which  God  created  to  give  light, 
 never  pours  forth  darkness ;  even  so  the 
 Bible,  which  God  gave  td  point  the  way  to 
 heaven,  never  leads  to  hell,  nay,  is  never 
 content  to  leave  on  earth.  It  always  and 
 invariably,  like  the  needle  to  the  north 
 pole,  points  to  heaven,  and  offers  wings  to 
 waft  the  weary  wanderer  home. 
 
 R.  B.  mdiol. 
 
 BIBLE— a  Guide. 
 
 Star  of  Eternity !  the   only  star 
 
 By  which  the  bark  of  man  can  navigate 
 
 The  sea  of  life,  and  gain  the  coast  of  bliss 
 
 Securely ;  only  star,  which  rose  on  time. 
 
 And,  on  its  dark  and  troubled  billows,  still. 
 
 As  generation,  drifting  swifcly  by. 
 
 Succeeded  generation,  threw  a  ray 
 
 Of  heaven's  own  light,  and,  to  the  hills  of 
 
 God— 
 The  eternal  hills — pointed  the  sinner's  eye. 
 R.  Pollock. 
 
 BIBLE— in  the  House. . 
 
 A  pot  of  manna  was  laid  up  beside  the 
 ark ;  some  think  within  it,  but  rather 
 beside  it.  Manna  was  bread  given  straight 
 from  the  sky,  and  was  a  type  of  bread  for 
 the  soul,  which  does  not  grow,  like  corn, 
 out  of  the  earth,  but  must  be  sent  from 
 God.  He  has  sent  it,  and  wherever  Christ 
 is  in  the  house  He  dispenses  it.  In  what 
 form  we  get  it  I  need  hardly  tell  you. 
 Our  pot  of  manna  that  never  corrupts  or 
 v/astes,  or  palls  on  a  sound  taste,  is  the 
 Bible.     The  taste  of  the  old  manna  was 
 
72 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 like  wafers  mixed  with  honey;  but  this  is 
 "  sweeter  than  honey  and  the  honeycomb." 
 ^\■hat  a  difference  the  Bible  in  a  house 
 makes,  especially  in  a  day  of  sickness  and 
 of  death  !  It  is  like  a  lamp,  then,  in  a 
 dark  nijjht.  But  I  was  callinj^  it  bread, 
 rather,  and  I  go  back  to  this  to  say  that 
 you  should  take  daily  meals  of  it.  You  do 
 not  like  to  go  without  food  for  the  body 
 for  even  one  day.  Mind  your  soul,  too. 
 You  would  think  it  a  very  miserable  house 
 that  had  no  food  in  it.  To  an  angel's  eye, 
 a  house  that  is  without  Christ's  book,  or, 
 having  it,  does  not  use  it,  is  far  more 
 miserable.  Dr.  Edniond. 
 
 A  good  man  once  entered  a  house  in 
 Germany,  and  found  it  very  wretched — no 
 tire,  no  furniture,  no  food.  Everything 
 bore  the  appearance  of  utter  poverty.  But, 
 glancing  round,  he  saw,  in  a  neglected 
 corner,  a  copy  of  the  Bible,  and,  when  he 
 went  away,  he  said  to  the  poor  inmates, 
 "  There  is  a  treasure  in  this  hou'^e  that 
 would  make  you  all  rich."  After  he  had 
 gone,  the  people  began  to  search  the  house 
 for  what  they  thought  must  be  a  jewel  or 
 a  pot  of  gold,  and  finding  nothing,  they 
 went  to  dig  up  the  very  floor,  in  hopes  of 
 discovering  the  hidden  store  of  wealth.  All 
 in  vain.  One  day  after  that  the  mother 
 lifted  up  the  old  Bible,  and  found  written 
 on  the  flyleaf  of  it,  taken  from  its  own 
 pages,  these  words,  "  Thy  testimonies  are 
 better  to  me  than  thousands  of  gold  and 
 silver."  "  Ah  !"  she  said,  "  can  this  be  the 
 treasure  the  stranger  spoke  of?"  So  she 
 told  her  thought  to  the  rest ;  they  began 
 to  read  the  Bible,  became  changed  in 
 character,  and  a  blessing  came  in  to  stay 
 with  them.  The  stranger  came  back  to 
 find  poverty  gone,  contentment  and  peace 
 in  its  place,  and  a  hearty  Christian  wel- 
 come, while,  with  grateful  joy,  the  family 
 told  him,  ■'  We  found  the  treasure,  and  it 
 has  proved  all  that  you  said  to  us  it 
 would."  Ibid. 
 
 BIBLE— Indebtedness  to  the. 
 
 As  the  profoundest  philosophy  of  ancient 
 Rome  and  Greece  lighted  her  taper  at  Is- 
 rael's altar,  so  the  sweetest  strains  of  the 
 pagan  muse  were  swept  from  harps  attuned 
 >i\  Zion's  hill.  •  Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 BIBLE — Independence  of  the. 
 
 In  relation  to  other  Hooks  the  Bible  occu- 
 pies a  peculiar  and  solitary  position.  It 
 is  independent  of  all  others  ;  it  imitates  no 
 other  book  ;  it  copies  none ;  it  hardly  al- 
 ludes to  any  other,  whether  in  praise  or 
 blame;  and  this  is  nearly  as  true  of  its 
 latter  portions,  when  books  were  common, 
 as  of  its  earlier,  when  books  were  scarce. 
 It  proves,  thus,  its  originality  and  power, 
 iiout  Blanc  does  not  measure  himself  with 
 
 Jura;  does  not  name  her,  nor  speaic,  save 
 when  ill  thunder  he  talks  to  her  of  God. 
 Then  only,  too,  does  she 
 
 "  Answer  from  her  misty  shroud 
 Back  to  the  joyous  Alps." 
 
 John  never  speaks  of  Plato,  nor  Paul  of 
 Demosthenes,  nor  Jesus  of  any  writer,  save 
 Moses  and  the  Prophets.  In  those  great 
 heights  you  feel  blowing  round  your  tem- 
 ples, and  stirring  your  hair,  the  free,  origi- 
 nal, ancient  breath  of  the  upper  world,  un- 
 conventional, unmixed,  and  irresistible  as 
 the  mountain  tempest.  It  is  a  book  unlike 
 all  others — the  points  of  diiference  being 
 these  among  many  others  : — There  is  a  cer- 
 tain grand  unconsciousness,  as  in  Niagara, 
 speaking  now  in  the  same  tone  to  the 
 tourists  of  a  world,  as  when  she  spoke  to  tlie 
 empty  wilderness  and  the  silent  sun  ;  as  in 
 the  Himalayan  Hills,  wliich  cast  the  same 
 look  of  still  sovere.gnty  over  an  India  un- 
 peopled after  the  deluge,  as  over  an  India 
 the  hive  of  sweltering  nations.  G.GilJillan. 
 
 BIBLE— Infidels  and  the. 
 
 No  matter  how  infidel  philosophers  may 
 regard  the  Bible;  they  may  say  that 
 Genesis  is  awry,  and  that  the  Psalms  are 
 more  than  half-bitter  imprecations,  and  the 
 prophesies  only  the  fantasies  of  brain-be- 
 wildered men,  and  the  Gospels  weak  lauda- 
 tions of  an  imjiostor,  and  the  epistles  only 
 the  letters  of  a  mad  Jew,  and  that  the 
 whole  book  has  had  its  day  ;  I  shall  cling 
 to  it  nntil  they  show  me  a  better  revelation. 
 The  Bible  emptied,  efl'ete,  worn  out !  If 
 all  the  wisest  men  of  the  world  were  placed 
 man  to  man,  they  could  not  sound  the 
 shallowest  depth  of  the  Gospel  of  John. 
 0  philosophers!  break  the  shell,  and  fly 
 out,  and  let  me  hear  how  you  can  sing. 
 Not  of  passion — I  know  that  already  ;  not 
 of  worldly  power — 1  hear  that  everywhere ; 
 but  teach  me,  through  j-our  song,  how  to 
 find  joy  in  sorrow,  strength  in  weakness, 
 and  light  in  darkest  days;  how  to  bear 
 buffeting  and  scorn,  how  to  welcome  death, 
 and  to  pass  through  its  ministration  into 
 the  sphere  of  life  ;  and  this,  not  for  me 
 only,  but  for  the  whole  world  that  groans 
 and  travails  in  pain  ;  and  until  you  can  do 
 this,  speak  not  to  me  of  abet+or  revelation. 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BIBLE— Influence  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  has  been  expelled  for  centu- 
 ries, by  atheistic  or  sacerdotal  hate,  from 
 the  dwellings  of  many  of  the  European 
 nations.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  do- 
 mestic virtues  have  declined;  the  conjugal 
 relation  is  disparaged ;  deception  and  in- 
 trigue  have  supplanted  mutual  confidence; 
 and  society  has  become  diseased  to  its  very 
 core.  The  very  best  thing  we  can  do — the 
 only   thing    which    will    be    eflicieut — to 
 
BISLE. 
 
 73 
 
 arrest  these  evils,  is  to  restore  to  those 
 nations  the  Word  of  God;  to  replace  in 
 their  houses  that  Bible  of  which  they  have 
 been  robbed.  Only  do  for  France  and  Italy, 
 Belgium  and  Spain,  Portugal  and  Austria, 
 what  has  been  attempted,  and  to  a  great 
 extent  accomplished,  for  our  country  ;  put 
 a  Bible  in  every  family,  and  a  mightier 
 change  will  pass  over  Europe  than  can  be 
 elfected  by  all  the  diplomacy  of  her  states- 
 men, or  all  the  revolutions  projected  by  her 
 patriots.  Anon. 
 
 The  poetry  of  the  Bible  has  been  the 
 forming  jjower  of  the  greatest  modern 
 poems  J  for  Tasso,  Milton,  and  Cowper, 
 present  in  high  relief  the  features  of  its 
 moving  hand.  And  its  high  and  aspiring 
 spirit,  its  heavenward  tendencies,  its  ethe- 
 real sanctities,  its  judicial  grandeur,  have 
 given  birth  to  those  sublime  creations  in 
 architecture  and  painting  which  are  seen 
 in  the  works  of  Michael  Angelo,  and  may 
 be  designated  the  school  of  Christian  art. 
 Nor  is  there  any  department  of  human 
 thought  or  ellort  that  biblically  educated 
 men  have  not  enriched  or  adorned. 
 
 Dr.  Beard. 
 
 Before  this  oracle,  like  Dagon,  all 
 
 The  false  pretenders,  Delphos,   Hammon, 
 
 fall. 
 Long  since  despis'd,  and  silent,  they  afford 
 Honour  and  triumph  to  the  Eternal  Word. 
 E.  Waller. 
 
 BIBLE— Inimitability  of  the. 
 
 The  pure  and  noble,  the  graceful  and 
 dignified  simplicity  of  language,  is  nowhere 
 in  such  perfection  as  in  the  Scriptures  and 
 Homer.  The  whole  book  of  Job,  with  re- 
 gard both  to  sublimity  of  thought  and 
 morality,  exceeds,  beyond  all  comparison, 
 tlie  most  noble  parts  of  Homer.     A.  Fo;pe. 
 
 This  book  appears  to  me  unexampled 
 and  absolutely  inimitable.  The  sublimity 
 of  thought ;  the  majesty  and  simplicity  of 
 expression  ;  the  beauty,  the  purity,  I  could 
 almost  say  the  homogeneity  of  the  doctrine, 
 the  importance,  the  universality,  and  the 
 expressive  brevity  and  paucity  of  the  pre- 
 cepts ;  their  admirable  adaptation  to  the 
 nature  and  wants  of  man  ;  the  ardent  cha- 
 rity which  so  generously  enforces  the  ob- 
 servation of  them ;  the  affecting  piety, 
 force  and  gravity  of  the  composition ;  the 
 profound  and  truly  philosoi)hical  sense 
 which  I  discover  in  it ;  these  are  the  cha- 
 racters which  fix  my  attention  to  the  book, 
 I  examine,  and  which  I  do  not  meet  with, 
 in  the  same  degree,  in  any  production  of 
 humankind.  I  am  eijually  ail'ected  with  the 
 candour,  the  ingenuousness,  the  modesty — 
 1  should  have  said  the  humility — of  the  wri- 
 ters, and   that  unexampled  and   constant 
 
 forgetfulness  of  themselves,  which  never 
 admits  their  own  reflections,  or  the  smallest 
 eulogium  in  reciting  the  actions  of  their 
 Master.  C.  Bonnet. 
 
 BIBLE — Inspiration  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  must  be  the  invention  either 
 of  good  men  or  angels,  bad  men  or  devils, 
 or  of  God. 
 
 It  could  not  be  the  invention  of  good 
 men  or  angels ;  for  they  neither  would  nor 
 could  make  a  book,  and  tell  lies  all  the 
 time  they  were  writing,  saying,  Thus  saith 
 the  Lord,  when  it  was  their  own  in- 
 vention. 
 
 It  could  not  be  the  invention  of  had  men 
 or  devils,  for  they  could  not  make  a  book 
 which  commands  all  duty,  forbids  all  sin, 
 and  condemns  their  souls  to  all  eternity. 
 We,  therefore,  draw  this  conclusion  : — ■ 
 The  Bible  must  be  given  by  Divine  in- 
 spiratio7i.  D.  Simpson. 
 
 The  ancient  Greeks  had  one  sentence, 
 which  they  believed,  though  without  foun- 
 dation, to  have  descended  from  heaven  j 
 and  to  evince  their  gratitude  and  venera- 
 tion for  this  gift,  they  caused  it  to  be  en- 
 graved in  letters  of  gold  on  the  front  of 
 their  most  sacred  and  magnificent  temple. 
 We,  more  favoured,  have  not  one  sentence 
 only,  hut  a  volume,  which  really  descended 
 from  heaven  ;  and  which,  whether  we  con- 
 sider its  contents  or  its  author,  ought  to  be 
 indelibly  impressed  on  the  heart  of  every 
 child  of  Adam.  I>r.  Payson. 
 
 BIBLE — Inspiration  of  the  whole. 
 
 We  say  that  it  is  the  whole  Scriptures 
 that  are  inspired  of  God;  the  historical 
 books  as  well  as  the  prophecies ;  the  Gos- 
 pels as  well  as  the  Song  of  Solomon ;  the 
 Gospels  of  Mark  and  Luke,  as  well  as  those 
 of  John  and  I\Iattbew ;  the  history  of  the 
 shipwreck  of  St.  Paul  in  the  waters  of  the 
 Adriatic,  as  well  as  that  of  the  shipwreck 
 of  the  old  world  in  the  waters  of  the  flood ; 
 the  scenes  of  Mamre  beneath  the  tents  of 
 Abraham,  as  well  as  those  of  the  day  of 
 Christ  in  the  eternal  tabernacles;  the  pro- 
 phetic prayers  in  which  the  Messiah,  a 
 thousand  years  before  His  first  advent, 
 cries  in  tlie  Psalms,  ''My  God,  my  God, 
 why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me  ?  they  have 
 pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet,  they  have 
 cast  lots  upon  my  vesture,  they  look  and 
 stare  at  me,"  as  well  as  the  narratives  of 
 them  given  by  St.  John,  St.  Mark,  St. 
 Luke,  or  St.  Matthew.  Brof.  Gaussen 
 
 BIBLE — Literary  Character  of  the. 
 
 God  made  the  present  earth  as  the  home 
 of  man ;  but  had  He  meant  it  as  a  mere 
 lodging,  a  world  less  beautiful  would  have 
 served  the  purpose.  There  was  no  need 
 for  the  carpet  of  verdure  or  the  ceiling  of 
 
74 
 
 BIBLE. 
 
 blue ;  no  need  for  the  moimtains,  and 
 catai-iicts,  and  forests ;  no  need  for  the 
 rainbow,  no  need  for  the  flowers.  A  big, 
 round  island,  half  of  it  arable,  and  half  of 
 it  pasture,  with  a  clump  of  trees  in  one 
 earner,  and  a  magazine  of  fuel  in  another, 
 might  have  held  and  fed  ten  millions  of 
 people  ;  and  a  hundred  islands,  all  made  on 
 the  same  pattern,  big  and  round,  might 
 have  held  and  fed  the  population  of  the 
 globe.  I3ut  man  is  something  more  than 
 the  animal  which  wants  lodging  and  food. 
 He  has  a  spiritual  nature,  full  of  keeii  per- 
 ceptions and  deep  sympathies.  He  has  an 
 e.ve  for  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful,  and 
 his  kind  Creator  has  provided  man's  abode 
 with  affluent  materials  for  these  nobler 
 tastes.  He  has  built  Mont  Blanc,  and 
 molten  the  lake  in  which  its  image  sleeps. 
 He  has  intoned  Niagara's  thunder,  and  has 
 breathed  the  zepliyr  which  sweeps  its  spray. 
 He  has  shagged  the  steep  with  its  cedars, 
 and  besprent  the  meadows  with  its  king- 
 cups  and  daisies.  He  has  made  it  a  world 
 of  fragrance  and  music — a  world  of  bright- 
 ness and  symmetry — a  world  where  the 
 grand  and  the  graceful,  the  awful  and  the 
 lovely,  rejoice  together.  In  fashioning  the 
 home  of  man,  the  Creator  had  an  eye  to 
 something  more  than  convenience,  and  built 
 not  a  barrack,  but  a  palace — not  a  nnion- 
 workhnuse,  but  an  Alhambra;  something 
 •which  should  not  only  be  very  comfortable, 
 but  very  splendid  and  very  fair ;  something 
 which  should  inspire  the  sonl  of  its  inha- 
 bitant, and  even  draw  forth  the  "  very 
 good  "  of  complacent  Deity. 
 
 God  also  made  the  Bible  as  the  guide 
 and  oracle  of  man ;  but  had  He  meant  it 
 as  a  mere  lesson-book  of  duty,  a  volume 
 less  various  and  less  attractive  would  have 
 answered  every  end.  A  few  plain  para- 
 graphs, announcing  God's  own  character 
 and  his  disposition  towards  us  sinners  here 
 on  earth,  mentioning  the  provision  which 
 He  has  made  for  our  future  happiness,  and 
 indicating  the  different  duties  which  He 
 would  have  us  perform — a  few  simple  sen- 
 tences would  have  suflficed  to  tell  what  God 
 is,  and  what  he  would  have  us  to  do.  There 
 was  no  need  of  the  picturesque  narrative 
 and  the  majestic  poem — no  need  of  the 
 proverb,  the  story,  and  the  psalm.  A 
 chapter  of  theology,  and  another  of  morals  ; 
 a  short  account  of  the  Incarnation  and  the 
 great  Atonement,  and  a  few  pages  of  rules 
 and  directions  for  the  Christian  life,  might 
 have  contained  the  vital  essence  of  Scrip- 
 ture, and  have  supplied  us  with  a  Bible  of 
 simi)lest  meaning  and  smallest  size.  And 
 in  that  case  the  Bible  would  have  been 
 consulted  only  by  those  rare  and  wistful 
 spirits  to  whom  the  great  Hereafter  is  a 
 subject  of  anxiety,  who  are  really  anxious 
 to  know  what  God  is,  and  how  they  them- 
 selves may  please  Him.    But  in  giving  that 
 
 Bible,  its  Divine  Author  had  regard  to  the 
 mind  of  man.  He  know  that  man  has  more 
 curiosity  than  ijiety,  more  taste  than  sanc- 
 tity ;  and  that  more  persons  are  anxious  to 
 hear  some  new,  or  read  some  beauteous 
 thing,  than  to  read  or  hear  about  God  and 
 the  great  salvation.  He  knew  that  few 
 would  ever  ask,  "What  must  I  do  to  be 
 saved  ?"  till  they  came  in  contact  with  the 
 Bible  itself;  and,  therefore,  He  made  the 
 Bible  not  only  an  instructive  book,  but  an 
 attractive  one — not  only  true,  but  enticing. 
 He  filled  it  with  marvellous  incident  and 
 engaging  history ;  with  sunny  pictures 
 from  Old-World  scenery,  and  affecting 
 anecdotes  from  the  patriarch  times.  He 
 replenished  it  with  stately  argument  and 
 thrilling  verse,  and  sprinkled  it  over  with 
 sententious  wisdom  and  proverbial  pun- 
 gency. He  made  it  a  book  of  lofty  thoughts 
 and  noble  images— a  book  of  heavenly  doc- 
 trine, but  withal  of  earthly  adtiptation.  lu 
 preparing  a  guide  to  immortality.  Infinite 
 Wisdom  gave  not  a  dictionary,  nor  a  gram- 
 mar, but  a  Bible — a  book  which,  in  trying 
 to  catch  the  heart  of  man,  should  captivate 
 his  taste ;  and  which,  in  transforming  his 
 affections,  should  also  expand  his  intellect. 
 The  pearl  is  of  great  price  ;  but  even  the 
 casket  is  of  exquisite  beauty.  The  sword 
 is  of  ethereal  temper,  and  nothing  cuts  so 
 keen  as  its  double  edge;  but  there  are  jewels 
 on  the  hilt,  and  exquisite  inlaying  on  the 
 scabbard.  The  shekels  are  of  the  purest 
 ore ;  but  even  the  scrip  which  contains  them 
 is  of  a  texture  more  curious  than  that  the 
 artists  of  earth  could  fadiion  it.  The  apples 
 are  gold  j  but  even  the  basket  is  silver. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 BIBLE— supposed  Loss  of  the. 
 
 It  was  very  early  suggested  that  tlie 
 whole    Bible   had  again   and   again    been 
 quoted  piecemeal  in  one  book  or  other — 
 that  it  had  impressed  its  own  image  on  the 
 surface  of  human  literature,  and  had  been 
 reflected  on  its  course  as  the  stars  on  a 
 stream.     But  alas!  when  lost,  on  investi- 
 gation, it  was  found  as  vain  to  expect  that 
 the  gleam  of  starlight  would  still  remain 
 mirrored  in   the  water,  when  the   clouds 
 had  veiled  the  stars  themselves,  as  that  the 
 bright  characters  of  the  Bible  would  remain 
 !  reflected  in  the  books  of  men  when  they 
 had  been  erased  from  the  book  of  God.    On 
 !  inspection,  it  was  foimd  that  every  text, 
 every  phrase  which  had  been  quoted,  not 
 only  in  books  of  devotion  and  theology,  but 
 in  those  of  poetry  and  fiction,  had  been  re- 
 morselessly expunged.     Never  before  had 
 I  I  had  any  adequate  idea  of  the  extent  to 
 which  the  Bible  had  moulded  the  inrellec- 
 !  tnal  and  moral  life  of  the  last  eigiiteen  ccn- 
 I  turies,  nor  how  intimately  it  haxl  interfused 
 j  itself  with   habits  of  thought  and  modes 
 I  of  expression;  nor  how  naturally  and  ex- 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 75 
 
 tensively  its  coraprohensive  imagery  and 
 langiiapfe  had  been  introduced  into  human 
 wi-1  tings,  and  most  of  all  where  there  had 
 been  most  of  genius.  A  vast  portion  of 
 literature  became  instantly  worthless,  and 
 was  transformed  into  so  much  waste  paper. 
 It  was  almost  impossible  to  look  into  any 
 book  of  merit,  and  read  ten  pages  together, 
 Avithout  coming  to  some  provoking  erasures 
 and  mutilations,  some  "  hiatus  valde  de- 
 flendi,"  which  made  whole  passages  per- 
 fectly unintelligible.  Many  of  the  sweetest 
 passages  of  Shakespeare  were  converted 
 into  unmeaning  nonsense,  from  the  absence 
 of  those  words  which  his  own  all  but  divine 
 genius  had  appropriated  from  a  still  diviner 
 source.  As  to  Milton,  he  was  nearly  ruined, 
 as  might  naturally  be  supposed.  Walter 
 Scott's  novels  were  filled  with  perpetual 
 lacuna.  I  hoped  it  might  be  otherwise 
 with  the  philosophers,  and  so  it  was;  but 
 even  here  it  was  curious  to  see  what  strange 
 ravages  the  visitation  had  wrought.  Some 
 of  the  most  beautiful  and  comprehensive  of 
 Bacon's  Aphorisms  were  reduced  to  enig- 
 matical nouseuse.  S.  Rogers. 
 
 BIBLE— Love  of  the. 
 
 A  very  poor  woman  in  Edinburgh,  who 
 was  so  nearly  blind  as  not  to  be  able  to 
 peruse  the  Bible,  could  ^et  no  one  to  read 
 it  to  her.  She  was  greatly  distressed  to 
 live  day  after  day  without  the  comfort  and 
 direction  of  this  blessed  book.  She  thought 
 of  ninny  plans,  and  made  many  inquiries, 
 but  all  in  vain.  At  last  she  made  a  bar- 
 gain with  another  woman  to  i-ead  to  her  a 
 chapter  every  night ;  and  for  this  service 
 she  paid  her  a  penny  a  week  o>it  of  her 
 scanty  pittance.  J.  Whitecross. 
 
 I  might  show  you  the  first  load  of  Bibles 
 taken  to  Wales  just  fifty  years  ago,  the 
 people  going  out  to  meet  the  cart  that  car- 
 ried them,  as  if  it  had  been  Israel's  ark, 
 drawing  it  in  triumph  into  the  town,  bear- 
 ing away  the  blessed  volume  with  over- 
 flowing heart,  young  people  sitting  up  all 
 night  to  read  it,  and  labourers  taking  it 
 with  them  to  the  fields  and  loving  it  as  I 
 cannot  describe. 
 
 I  might  show  you  the  Tahitians,  when 
 France  took  possession  of  their  island  not 
 many  years  ago,  hurrying  to  the  moun- 
 tains and  leaving  their  Bibles  with  the 
 missionaries  till  they  should  come  back,  to 
 save  them  carrying  them  so  far;  and  ere 
 long  they  were  back  in  the  face  of  all  dan- 
 ger, to  »?iwthey  could  not  live  tvithont  their 
 £ibles,&nd  must  have  them  whatever  should 
 befal. 
 
 There  is  an  Irish  peasant  copying  with 
 his  own  hand  the  entire  Scriptures.  There 
 is  a  Hindoo  dying,  and  under  his  head 
 lies  his  treasure.  What  is  it  ?  Some  dirty 
 scraps  of  paper,  worn  and  tattered,  which 
 
 he  had  got  years  ago — texts  of  the  Bible 
 translated  and  written  by  a  missionary, 
 before  Bibles  in  the  language  were  to  he 
 had.  There  is  a  soldier  hiding  it  in  his 
 bosom  as  he  goes  to  the  wars,  and  a  sailor 
 tying  it  round  his  waist  as  tlie  most  pre- 
 cious thing  on  board,  ere  the  vessel  goes 
 down.  There  is  one  calling  it  his  best 
 earthly  friend ;  and  another,  his  book  of 
 bank  notes;  and  ar other,  sweeter  than 
 honey,  better  than  gold.         J.  H.  Wilson. 
 
 Lady  Jane  Grey  was  once  asked,  in  a 
 tone  of  surprise,  how  she  could  consent  to 
 forego  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  which  her 
 parents  ever  enjoyed,  and  prefer  sitting  at 
 home,  reading  the  Bible.  She  smilingly 
 replied,  all  amusements  of  that  description 
 are  but  a  shadow  of  the  pleasures  which  I 
 enjoy  in  reading  this  book.    W.  Nicholson, 
 
 Before  I  knew  the  Word  of  God  in  spirit 
 and  in  truth,  for  its  great  antiquity,  its  in- 
 teresting narratives,  its  impartial  biography, 
 its  pure  morality,  its  sublime  poetry,  in  a 
 word,  for  its  beautiful  and  wonderful 
 variety,  I  preferred  it  to  all  other  books ; 
 but  since  I  have  entered  into  its  spirit, 
 like  the  psalmist,  I  love  it  above  all  things 
 for  its  purity;  and  desire  whatever  else  I 
 read,  it  may  tend  to  increase  my  knowledge 
 of  the  Bibie,  and  strengthen  my  aflectiou 
 for  its  divine  and  holy  truths. 
 
 Sir  W.  Jones. 
 
 BIBLE— a  Mine. 
 
 So)ne  look  upon  the  Bible  as  a  garden  of 
 spices,  in  whi(!h  you  may  walk,  and  at  your 
 leisure  pluck  the  flowers  and  gather  the 
 fruits  of  the  Eden  of  God.  But  this  does 
 not  accord  with  my  experience.  I  have 
 found  it  more  like  a  mine,  in  which  you 
 must  dig  and  laliour,  the  wealth  of  which 
 is  not  to  be  obtained  without  labour — a 
 mine  rich  in  gold  and  precious  things,  but 
 it  must  be  wrought  day  and  night  in  or.ler 
 to  produce  them.  Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 BIBLE— The,  a  Bliracle. 
 
 The  Bible  itself  is  a  standing  and  an 
 astonishing  mii-acle.  Written  fragment 
 by  fragment,  throughout  the  course  of 
 fifteen  centuries,  under  difl'erent  states  of 
 society,  and  in  different  languages,  by 
 persons  of  the  most  opposite  tempers, 
 talents,  and  conditions,  learned  and  un- 
 learned, prince  and  peasant,  bond  and 
 free ;  cast  into  every  form  of  instructive 
 composition  and  good  writing,  history, 
 prophecy,  poetry,  allegory,  emblematical 
 representation,  judicious  interpretation, 
 literal  statement,  precept,  example,  pro- 
 verbs, disquisition,  epistle,  sermon,  prayer; 
 in  short,  all  rational  shapes  of  human  dis- 
 course, and  treating,  moreover,  of  subjects 
 not  obvious,  but  most  diilicult.  Its  authors 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 are  not  found,  like  other  writers,  contra- 
 dicting one  another  upon  the  most  ordinary 
 matters  of  fact  and  opinion,  but  are  at 
 harmony  upon  the  whole  of  their  sublime 
 and  momentous  scheme.  Mavlagan. 
 
 BIBLE— not  Obsolete. 
 
 There  are  those  who  tell  us  that  the 
 Bible  is  an  obsolete  book,  too  far  behind 
 this  age  of  swift  progress  in  intellect,  sci- 
 ence, commerce,  &c.  Tliis  is  like  saying 
 that  the  uioon  and  sun  are  obsolete  and 
 of  no  use,  because  our  system  of  lighting 
 towns  and  houses  is  so  far  in  advance  of 
 what  it  was  in  the  diiys  of  the  patriarchs 
 or  of  the  ancient  Britons.  Has  intellect 
 so  far  progressed  that  it  cannot  find  any- 
 thing in  the  Bible  to  exercise  its  loftiest 
 and  strongest  powers  ?  Is  morality  so  far 
 perfected  in  the  world  that  the  Bible  mo- 
 bility is  beneath  it?  Are  commerce  and 
 trade  carried  on  upon  principles  purer  than 
 those  which  the  Bible  teach  ?  Is  the  holi- 
 ness of  the  church  even  more  elevated  than 
 that  which  this  book  requires  ?  Let  a  com- 
 parison answer.  The  fact  is,  however  fast 
 the  world  and  the  church  may  rise  in  every- 
 thing pure  in  intellect,  morality,  and  re- 
 ligion, the  Bible  will  still  occupy  a  place  of 
 pre-eminence,  beckoning  on  to  yet  higher 
 and  nobler  attainments.  John  Bate. 
 
 BTSLE— Pre-eminence  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  is,  among  other  books,  as  a 
 diamond  among  precious  stones;  as  the 
 most  sparkl'ng,  aptest  to  scatter  light ;  as 
 the  most  solid,  and  aptest  to  make  imi)rt"s- 
 sions.  J.  StoucjMon. 
 
 BIBLE — Preservation  of  the. 
 
 The  fact  that  this  Book  is  in  my  hand  is 
 one  of  the  most  stupendous  miracles  that 
 lias  ever  occurred ;  for  it  has  been  more 
 proscribed,  and  persecuted,  and  trodden 
 under-foot,  than  all  the  books  of  ancient  and 
 modern  times  together.  Were  there  to 
 come  into  the  midst  of  this  assembly  a  man 
 who  had  outlived  eighteen  centuries — who 
 had  Iteen  cast  into  the  sea,  and  not  drowned 
 — thrown  to  the  wild  beasts  and  not  de- 
 voured— made  to  drink  deadly  poison,  and 
 not  killed — shot  at  and  stabbed,  and  not  in- 
 juri.'d, — would  you  not  believe  that  the 
 broad  shield  of  Omnipotence  must  have 
 been  over  and  with  him,  and  that  he  "lived 
 and  moved  and  had  his  being"  in  the  heart 
 of  a  perpetual  miracle  ?  This  is  that  man. 
 The  Bible  has  been  cast  into  the  fires,  Imt 
 not  consumed;  it  has  been  thrown  into  the 
 waves, but  not  overwhelmed;  the  deadlyand 
 deleterious  notes  of  the  Douay  and  Rhenish 
 translators  have  been  forced  upon  it,  but 
 it  has  not  been  tainted;  it  stands  before 
 us  still,  in  unshorn  and  untarnished  glory, 
 reflecting  the  love  of  our  heavenly  Father, 
 and  the  destinies  of  His  believing  and  happy 
 
 family.  That  must  be  the  book  of  God, 
 which  has  been  enshrined  in  perpetual 
 miracle.  The  productions  of  the  Greek  and 
 Latin  muses  which  men  have  been  anxious 
 to  preserve,  because  they  ministered  to 
 corrupt  taste,  have  been  lost;  but  the 
 book  that  protests  against  men's  sins,  and 
 rebukes  men's  lust — which  man  hated — 
 has  been  preserved  by  man,  and  in  spite  of 
 him.  Dr.  J.  Cuinming. 
 
 Cities  fall,  kingdoms  come  to  nothing, 
 empires  fade  away  as  smoke.  Where  is 
 Numa,  Minos,  Lycurgus ;  where  are  their 
 books,  and  what  is  become  of  their  laws  ? 
 But  that  this  Book  no  tyrant  slionld  have 
 been  able  to  consume,  no  tradition  to  choke, 
 no  heretic  maliciously  to  corrupt ;  that  it 
 should  stand  unto  this  day,  amid  the  wreck 
 of  all  that  is  human,  without  the  alteration 
 of  one  sentence  so  as  to  change  the  doc- 
 trine taught  therein,  surely  there  is  a  very 
 singular  providence  claiming  our  attention 
 in  a  most  remarkable  manner.    Bp.  Jewell. 
 
 It  has  been  subjected,  along  with  many 
 other  books,  to  the  fire  of  the  keenest  in- 
 vestigation— a  fire  which  has  contemptu- 
 ously burned  up  the  cosmogony  of  the 
 Shaster,  the  absurd  fables  of  the  Koran — 
 nay,  the  husbandry  of  the  Georgics,  the 
 historical  truth  of  Llvy,  the  artistic  merit 
 of  many  a  popular  poem,  the  authority  of 
 many  a  book  of  philosophy  and  science. 
 And  yet  there  this  artless,  loosely  piled 
 l)ook  bes  unhurt,  untouched,  with  not  one 
 page  singed,  and  not  even  the  smell  of  fire 
 has  passed  upon  it.  G.  Gilfiilan. 
 
 BIBLE— Reading  the. 
 
 A  great  many  have  a  superstitious  feeling 
 about  reading  the  Bible.  It  is  the  effect  that 
 reading  the  Bible  has  on  a  man's  life  and 
 conduct  that  makes  it  beneficial  to  him;  but 
 there  is  an  impression  that  a  man  has  but  to 
 read  it  to  be  benefited  by  it.  So  men  carry 
 texts  as  Indians  carry  amulets,  with  the 
 superstitious  idea  that  God  will  bless  them 
 to  their  good.  The  mere  reading  of  the 
 Bible  or  carrying  texts  will  not  do  you  any 
 good.  A  man  may  own  a  farm  and  yet  go 
 to  the  poor-house.  A  man  may  be  so  rich  in 
 land  that  a  tenth  part  of  what  it  is  capable 
 of  producing  would  be  sutHcient  to  supjjort 
 him  and  yet  want  the  necessaries  of  life. 
 His  land  must  be  cultivated,  or  it  will  do 
 hiin  no  good.  H.  TV.  Beecher, 
 
 A  man  may  read  the  figure  on  the  dial, 
 hut  he  cannot  tell  how  the  day  goes  unless 
 the  sun  shines  on  the  dial ;  we  may  read 
 the  Bible  over,  but  we  cannot  learn  to  jjur- 
 pose  tiU  the  Spirit  of  God  shine  into  our 
 hearts.  T.  Watson. 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 77 
 
 BIBLE— Reading  the. 
 
 We  should  read  the  Bible  with  all  dili- 
 gence, that,  as  being  good  exchangers,  we 
 may  know  the  true  coin  from  that  which 
 is  counterfeit.  Jerome. 
 
 BIBLE— Reading  the,  by  Children. 
 
 If  it  were  possible  to  look  at  that  book 
 apart  from  its  divine  revelation,  it  would 
 still  be  the  choice  and  flower  of  all  books 
 and  have  no  match  in  this  world.  No 
 singer,  for  example,  has  since  produced  the 
 equal  of  David's  Psalms.  The  reading  of 
 this  book  in  childhood  lays  the  best  possible 
 foundation  for  the  mind  to  build  on  in  after 
 life.  This  is  as  true  in  an  intellectual  as  in 
 a  spiritual  sense.  Shakespeare  owed  some 
 of  his  proudest  thoughts  and  most  p;ithetic 
 things  to  his  acquaintanceship  with  the 
 Bible.  It  leaves  impressions  that  colour 
 the  whole  life  and  never  pass  away.  Take, 
 for  instance,  its  narratives,  which  constitute 
 the  religion  of  childhood — these  become  a 
 part  of  every  child's  mental  life,  and  mix 
 with  all  his  thoughts  and  feelings.  Do  not 
 fancy  that  these  Bible  stories  are  in  any 
 case  merely  the  history  of  one  person  or 
 one  people.  They  are  so  filled  with  hu- 
 manity and  so  natural  that  they  come 
 home  to  all  of  us.  They  are  eternally  true, 
 and  their  meaning  is  for  every  land  and 
 tongue.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 BIBLE— Rejecting  the. 
 
 And  can,  then,  true  philosophy  reject 
 
 As  false  a  book  which  the  same  sterling 
 
 truths 
 As  reason,  following  closely,  brings  to  light. 
 Maintains  with  such  corroborations?  Seal'd 
 With  the  broad  signet  of  the  Eternal  One, 
 Stamp'd  upon  all  its  pages  ?     Is  it  true 
 Philosophy,  without  examining, 
 Will  scorn  a  book  that  purports  to  entail 
 Eternal  bliss,  or  everlasting  woe, 
 On  its  acceptance  or  rejection  ?     Oh  ! 
 I  could  almost  respond  the  prophet's  words, 
 Would  that  my  head  were  waters,  and  my 
 
 eyes  _ 
 Fountains  of  tears,  that  I  might  weep 
 Nightly  and  daily  through  life's  passing 
 
 years 
 For  human  blindness  and  for  human  sin. 
 
 T.  Eagg. 
 BIBLE— Religion  of  the. 
 
 God  is  light.  So  is  the  religion  of  the 
 Bible.  It  has  no  fellowship  with  darkness. 
 Not  one  of  its  graces  springs  from  stupidity 
 or  ignorance,  but  all  of  them  from  the 
 knowledge  of  God.  False  religions  are 
 founded  in  darkness.  The  religion  of  the 
 Bible,  like  its  Author,  dwells  in  light.  God 
 also  is  love;  and  so  is  the  religion  of  the 
 Bible.  "  He  that  dwelleth  in  love  dwell- 
 eth  in  God,  and  God  in  Him. 
 
 Dr.  G.  Spriijg. 
 
 BIBLE— Self-perpetnating. 
 
 It  has  a  self-perpetuatingandmnltiplying 
 power.  Infidels  have  written  books  :  where 
 are  they  ?  Where  is  Porphyry,  Julian  ? 
 Fragments  of  them  there  are ;  "but  we  are 
 indebted  even  for  this  toChvistian  criticism. 
 Where  is  Hume,  Voltaire,  Bolingbroke  ? 
 It  requires  the  world's  reprieve  to  bring  a 
 copy  out  of  the  prison  of  their  darkness. 
 Where  is  the  Bible  ?  Wherever  there  is 
 liglit.  Speaking  the  language  of  heaven 
 in  seven  score  and  three  of  the  tongues  of 
 earth,  and  giving  the  Word  of  God  by  forty 
 millions  of  voices,  to  five  times  as  many 
 million  ears,  and  in  tongues  spoken  by  six 
 hundred  millions  of  men;  and  having 
 swept  its  path  of  storm  through  all  time,  it 
 still  walks  triumphant,  despite  earth's 
 dying  malice  and  hell's  eternal  wrath  ;  and, 
 like  the  apocalyptic  angel,  though  it  wraps 
 its  mantle  of  cloud  around  it,  calmly  looks 
 out  upon  the  world  with  a  face,  as  it  were 
 the  sun  encircled  with  the  rainbow. 
 
 Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 BIBLE— Superiority  of  the. 
 
 This  book  is  the  mirror  of  the  Divinity 
 — the  rightful  regent  of  the  world.  Other 
 books  are  planets  shining  with  reflected 
 lustre;  this  book,  like  the  sun,  shines  with 
 ancient  and  unborrowed  i-ay.  Other  books 
 have,  to  their  loftiest  altitudes,  sprung  from 
 earth;  this  book  looks  down  from  heaven 
 high.  Other  books  appeal  to  understanding 
 or  fancy ;  this  book  to  conscience  and  fiilth. 
 Other  books  solicit  our  attention ;  this  de- 
 mands it — it  speaks  with  authority,  and  not 
 as  the  scribes.  Other  books  guide  grace- 
 fully along  the  earth,  or  onwards  to  the 
 mountain  summits  of  the  ideal;  this,  and 
 this  alone,  conducts  up  the  awful  abyss 
 which  leads  to  heaven.  Otlier  books,  after 
 shining  their  season,  may  perish  in  fl  imes 
 fiercer  than  those  which  consumed  the 
 Alexandrian  library  ;  this,  in  essence,  must 
 remain  pure  as  gold,  and  unconsumable  as 
 asbestos,  amidst  the  flames  of  general  con- 
 flagration. Other  books  may  be  forgotten 
 in  the  universe  where  suns  go  down  and 
 disappear  like  bubbles  in  the  stream  ;  this 
 book,  transferred  to  a  higher  clime,  shall 
 shine  as  the  brightness  of  that  eternal  fir- 
 mament, and  as  those  higher  stars,  which 
 are  for  ever  and  ever.  G.  GUJillan. 
 
 The  Bible  contains,  indepenr'ently  of  a 
 Divine  origin,  more  true  sublimity,  more 
 exquisite  beauty,  more  pure  morality,  more 
 important  history,  and  finer  strains  both  of 
 poetry  and  of  eloquence,  than  could  be  col- 
 lected within  the  same  compass  from  all 
 other  books  that  were  ever  composed  in 
 any  age  or  in  any  idiom.        Sir  U\  Jones. 
 
SIBLE. 
 
 BIBLE— Supremacy  of  the. 
 
 Ah,  Phllosophii !  thou  hast  never  yet,  as 
 this  book,  taught  a  man  how  to  die  ! 
 Reason !  with  thy  flickering  torch,  thou 
 hast  never  yet  guided  to  such  suhlime 
 mysteries,  such  comforting  truths  as  these. 
 Science!  thou  has  penetrated  the  arcana 
 of  nature,  sunk  thy  shafts  into  earth's  re- 
 cesses, unburied  its  stores,  counted  its 
 strata,  measured  the  height  of  its  massive 
 pillars,  down  to  the  very  pedestals  of 
 primeval  granite.  Thou  hast  tracked  the 
 lightning,  traced  the  path  of  the  tornado, 
 uncurtained  the  distant  planet,  foretold  the 
 coming  of  the  comet,  and  the  return  of  the 
 eclipse.  But  thou  hast  never  been  able  to 
 gauge  the  depth  of  man's  soul;  or  to 
 answer  the  question,  "  What  must  I  do  to 
 be  saved  ?" 
 
 No,  no !  this  antiquated  volume  is  still 
 the  "  Book  of  books,"  the  oracle  of  oracles, 
 the  beacon  of  beacons;  the  poor  man's 
 treasury  ;  the  child's  companion  ;  the  sick 
 man's  health  ;  the  dying  man's  life ;  shal- 
 lows for  the  infant  to  walk  in— depths  for 
 giant  intellect  to  explore  and  adore! 
 Philosophy,  if  she  would  own  it,  is  indebted 
 here  for  the  noblest  of  her  maxims  : — 
 Poetry,  for  the  loftiest  of  her  themes. 
 Painting  has  gathered  here  her  noblest 
 inspiration.  Music  has  ransacked  these 
 golden  stores  for  the  grandest  of  her  strains. 
 And  if  there  be  life  in  the  church  of  Christ, 
 — if  her  ministers  and  missionaries  are 
 carrying  the  torch  of  salvation  through 
 the  world, — where  is  that  torch  lighted, 
 but  at  these  same  undying  altar-tires? 
 "When  a  philosophy  "falsely  so  called" 
 shall  become  dominant,  and  seek,  with  its 
 proud  dogmas,  to  supersede  this  divine 
 philosophy ;  when  the  old  Bible  of  David, 
 and  Timothy,  and  Paul,  is  clasped  and 
 closed, — the  only  morality  and  philosophy 
 worth  speaking  of  will  have  perished  from 
 the  earth.  Dagon  will  have  taken  the 
 place  of  God's  ark — the  world's  funeral 
 pile  may  be  kindled !  J.  A.  ilacduff. 
 
 BIBLE— Sway  of  the. 
 
 The  Bible  is  read  of  a  Sabbath  in  all  the 
 10,000  pulpits  of  our  land.  The  sun  never 
 sets  on  its  gleaming  page.  It  goes  equally 
 to  the  cottage  of  the  plain  man  and  the 
 palace  of  the  king.  It  is  woven  into  litera- 
 ture, and  it  colours  the  talk  of  the  street. 
 The  bark  of  the  merchant  cannot  sail  to 
 sea  without  it.  No  ship  of  war  goes  to  the 
 conflict  but  the  Bible  is  there.  It  enters 
 men's  closets;  mingles  in  all  grief  and 
 cheerfulness  of  life.  The  aching  head  finds 
 a  softer  pillow  when  the  Bible  lies  under- 
 neath. It  blesses  us  when  we  are  born ; 
 gives  names  to  half  Christendom  ;  rejoices 
 with  us  ;  has  sympathv  for  our  mourning  ; 
 tempers  our  grief  to  finer  issues.     It  is  the 
 
 better  part  of  our  sermons.  It  lifts  man 
 above  himself.  Tlie  timid  man,  awaking 
 from  his  dream  of  life,  looks  through  the 
 glass  of  Scripture,  and  his  eye  grows  bright. 
 He  does  not  fear  to  stand  alone — to  tread 
 the  way  unknown  and  distant — to  take  the 
 death -angel  by  the  hand,  and  bid  farewell 
 to  wife  and  babes  at  home.  ISIen  rest  on 
 this  their  dearest  hope.  It  tells  them  of 
 God,  and  of  His  beloved  Son ;  of  earthly 
 duties  and  of  heavenly  rest.        T.  Parker. 
 
 You  find  the  Bible  the  patriot's  charter- 
 book  :  the  child's  delight ;  the  old  man's 
 comfort ;  and  the  young  man's  guide.  In 
 its  pages  the  sick  and  weary  find  the  solace 
 which  they  need,  and  the  tempted  meet 
 with  timely  succour.  Its  words  whisper 
 hope  and  peace  to  the  dying,  and  ministers 
 daily  food  to  the  healthy  and  vigorous 
 household.  With  the  pious  music  of  its 
 sublime  or  plaintive  songs,  echo  the  roofs 
 of  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  Chris- 
 tian temples,  and  the  child's  prayer,  night 
 and  morn,  is  lisped  forth  in  the  simple  and 
 comprehensive  words  which  were  dictated 
 by  Him  who  is  its  central  light. 
 
 Dr.  Beard. 
 
 BIBLE— Truths  of  the. 
 
 The  truths  of  the  Bible  are  like  gold  in 
 the  soil.  Whole  genei-ations  walk  over  it, 
 and  know  not  what  treasures  are  hidden 
 beneath.  So  centuries  of  men  pass  over 
 the  Scriptures,  and  know  not  what  riches 
 lie  under  the  feet  of  their  interpretation. 
 Sometimes,  when  they  discover  them,  they 
 call  them  new  truths.  One  might  as  well 
 call  gold,  newly  dug,  new  gold. 
 
 H.  ir.  needier. 
 
 BIBLE— Unity  of  the. 
 
 And  if  this  unity*  can  be  shown  to  exist, 
 none  can  reply  that  it  was  involved  and 
 implied  in  the  external  accidents  of  the 
 book,  and  that  we  have  mistaken  the  out- 
 ward aggregation  of  things  similar  for  the 
 inward  coherence  of  an  organic  body  :  see- 
 ing that  these  accidents,  if  the  word  may 
 be  permitted,  are  all  such  as  would  have 
 created  a  sense  of  diversity  ;  and  it  is  only 
 by  penetrating  through  them,  and  riOt 
 suff'ering  them  to  mislead  us,  that  we  do 
 attain  to  the  deeper  and  prevading  unity  of 
 Scripture.  Its  unity  is  not,  for  instance, 
 that  apparent  one  which  might  be  produced 
 by  one  language  common  to  all  its  parts. 
 For  it  is  scarcely  possible,  I  suppose,  for  a 
 deeper  gulf  to  divide  any  two  of  the  nobler 
 Lmguages  of  men  than  divides  the  two  in 
 which  severally  the  Old  and  the  New  Testa- 
 ments are  written.  Nor  can  it  be  likduess 
 of  form  which  has  deceived  us.into  believ- 
 ing that  tmity  of  spirit  exists ;  for  the 
 forms  are  various  and  diverse  as  can  be 
 conceived ;   it  is  now  song,  now  history ; 
 
BIELE. 
 
 79 
 
 now  dialo;jue,  now  narration,  now  familiar 
 letter,  now  proplietic  vision.  Tliere  is 
 scarcely  a  form  of  composition  in  which 
 nicti  have  clothed  tlieir  thoughts  and  em- 
 liodied  tlieir  emotions  which  does  not  find 
 its  archetype  here.  Nor  yet  is  the  unity 
 of  this  volume  hrought  about  through  the 
 parts  of  it  being  all  the  upgrowth  of  a 
 single  age,  and  so,  all  breathing  alike,  the 
 spirit  of  that  age  ;  for  no  single  age  beheld 
 the  birth  of  this  Book,  which  was  well-nigh 
 two  thousand  years  ere  it  was  fully  formed 
 and  had  reached  its  final  completion.  Nor 
 can  its  unity,  if  it  exists,  he  accounted  for 
 from  its  having  had  but  one  class  of  men 
 for  its  human  authors :  since  men  not  of 
 one  class  alone,  but  of  many,  and  those  the 
 widest  apart,  kings  and  herdsmen,  warriors 
 and  fishermen,  wise  men  and  simple,  have 
 alike  brought  their  one  stone  or  niore,  and 
 been  permitted  to  build  them  into  this 
 august  dome  and  temple  which  God  through 
 so  many  ages  was  rearing  to  its  glorious 
 height.  Deeper  than  all  its  outward  cir- 
 cumstances, since  these  all  would  have 
 tended  to  an  opposite  result,  this  unity 
 must  lie — in  the  all-enfolding  seed  out  of 
 ■which  the  whole  book  is  evolved. 
 
 But  this  unity  of  Scripture,  where  is  it  ? 
 from  what  point  shall  we  behold  and  re- 
 cognise it  ?  Surely  from  that  in  which 
 those  verses  which  I  have  taken  from  the 
 Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  will  place  us 
 (Eph.  i,  9,  10) ;  when  we  regard  it  as  the 
 story  of  the  knitting  anew  the  broken 
 relations  between  the  Lord  God  and  the 
 race  of  man;  of  the  bringing  the  First-be- 
 gotten into  the  world,  for  the  gathering 
 together  all  the  scattered  and  the  sundered 
 in  Him ;  when  we  regard  it  as  the  true 
 JParadAse  Eegained — the  true  De  Civitate 
 Dei, — even  by  a  better  title  than  those 
 noble  books  which  bear  these  names — the 
 record  of  that  mystery  of  God's  will  which 
 was  working  from  the  first,  to  the  end 
 "  that  in  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of 
 tim^^s  He  might  gather  together  in  one  all 
 things  in  Christ."  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 In  the  vast  domain  of  nature  there  are 
 intimate  connection  and  indissoluble  unity, 
 making  one  complete  volume  of  material 
 things  from  which  m;m  may  gather  all  he 
 requii-es  for  this  world  ;  so,  in  the  Bible, 
 there  is  an  inseparable  unity  between  all 
 its  parts,  doctrines,  precepts,  promises,  &c., 
 constituting  an  entire  and  perfect  revela- 
 tion of  spiritual  things,  from  which  every 
 man  may  gather  all  that  is  necessary  tor 
 the  efl'ectual  salvation  of  his  soul. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 As  in  Beethoven's  matchless  mr.sic  there 
 runs  one  idea,  worked  out  through  all  the 
 changes  of  measure  and  of  key,  now  almost 
 bidden,  now  breaking  out  in  rich  natural 
 
 melody,  whispered  in  the  treble,  murmured 
 in  the  bass,  dimly  suggested  in  the  prelude, 
 but  growing  clearer  and  clearer  as  the 
 work  proceeds,  winding  gradually  back 
 until  it  ends  in  the  key  in  which  it  began, 
 and  closes  in  triumphant  harmony ;  so 
 throughout  the  whole  Bible  there  runs  one 
 great  idea  :  man's  ruin  by  sin,  and  his 
 redemption  by  grace;  in  a  word,  Jesui 
 Christ,  the  Saviour.  This  rims  through 
 the  Old  Testament,  that  prelude  to  the 
 New,  dimly  promised  at  the  fall,  and  more 
 clearly  to  Abi'aham ;  typified  in  the  cere- 
 monies of  the  law ;  all  the  events  of  sacred 
 history  paving  the  way  lor  His  coming ;  His 
 descent  proved  in  the  genealogies  of  Ruth 
 and  Chronicles;  spoken  of  as  Shiloh  by 
 Jacob,  as  the  Star  by  Balaam,  as  the  Pro- 
 phet by  Moses ;  the  David  of  the  Psalms ; 
 the  Redeemer  looked  for  by  Job ;  the  Be- 
 loved of  tlie  Song  of  Songs.  We  find  Him 
 in  the  sublime  strains  of  the  lofty  Isaiah  ; 
 in  the  writings  of  the  tender  Jeremiah ;  in 
 the  mysteries  of  the  contemplative  Ezekiel ; 
 in  the  visions  of  tlie  beloved  D;',niel ;  the 
 great  idea  growing  clearer  and  clearer  as 
 the  time  drew  on.  Then  the  full  harmony 
 broke  out  in  the  song  of  the  angels,  "  Glory 
 to  God  in  the  highest ;  on  earth  peace, 
 good  will  towards  men."  And  Evangelists 
 and  Apostles  taking  up  the  theme,  tha 
 strain  closes  in  the  same  key  in  which  it 
 began  :  the  devil,  who  troubled  the  first 
 paradise,  for  ever  excluded  from  the  second; 
 man  restoreel  to  the  favour  of  God;  and 
 Jesas  Christ  the  key-note  of  the  whole. 
 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BIBLE— How  to  Use  the. 
 
 I  use  the  Scriptures,  not  as  an  arsenal  to 
 be  resorted  to  only  for  arms  and  weapons, 
 but  as  a  matchless  temple,  where  I  delight 
 to  contemplate  the  beauty,  the  symmetry, 
 and  the  magnificence  of  the  structure,  and 
 to  increase  my  awe  and  excite  my  devotion 
 to  the  Deity  there  preached  and  adored. 
 
 Hon.  B.  Boyle. 
 
 BIBli:— The  Use  of  a. 
 
 Itfwas  customary  in  Cromwell's  time  for 
 his  soldiers  to  carry  each  a  Bible  in  his 
 pocket.  Among  others,  a  profligate  young 
 man  was  ordeied  to  attack  some  fortress. 
 Durir.g  the  engagement  a  bullet  had  pei*- 
 forated  his  Bible,  and  gone  so  far  as  to 
 rest  opposite  these  words  in  Ecclesiastes  : — 
 "  Rejoice,  O  young  man,  in  thy  youth,  and 
 let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy 
 youth,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thy  heart, 
 and  in  the  si!.;ht  of  thine  eyes ;  but  know 
 thou,  that  for  all  these  things  God  will 
 bring  thee  into  judgment."  The  words,  so 
 appropriate  to  his  case,  powerfully  afl'ected 
 his  mind,  and  proved  by  the  blessing  of 
 God  the  means  of  his  conversion.  He  used 
 to  observe,  that  the  Bible  hud  been  the 
 
BIBLE. 
 
 liappy  means  of  saving  both  bis  soul  and 
 body.  J.  Evans. 
 
 BIBLE— Value  of  the. 
 
 I  have  many  books  that  I  cannot  sit 
 down  to  read ;  they  ai-e  indeed  good  and 
 sound;  but,  liiie  halfpence,  there  goes  a  great 
 quantity  to  a  small  amount.  There  are 
 silver  books,  and  a  very  few  golden  books ; 
 but  I  have  one  book  worth  them  all,  called 
 the  Bible.  «/.  Newton. 
 
 This  holy  book  I'd  rather  own 
 
 Than  all  the  gold  and  gems 
 That  e'er  in  monarchs'  coffers  shone. 
 
 Than  all  their  diadems. 
 Nay,  were  the  seas  one  chrysolite, 
 
 the  earth  one  golden  ball. 
 And  diamonds  all  tiie  stars  of  night. 
 
 This  book  was  worth  them  all. 
 Ah,  no.  the  soul  ne'er  found  relief 
 
 In  glittering  hoards  of  wealth ; 
 Gems  dazzle  not  the  eye  of  grief. 
 
 Gold  cannot  purchase  health. 
 But  here  a  blessed  balm  appears 
 
 To  heal  the  deepest  woe. 
 And  those  who  read  this  book  in  tears 
 
 Their  tears  shall  cease  to  flow. 
 
 From  the  register  of  Alnwick,  Bishop  of 
 Korwich,  it  appears  that  a  Testament  of 
 Wickliff's  version,  in  the  year  1429,  cost 
 four  marks  and  forty  pence  (£2  \Qs.M.)— 
 equal  to  more  than  twenty  pounds  of  our 
 present  money  ;  a  large  sum  in  those  days, 
 •when  five  pounds  was  considered  sufficient 
 for  the  annual  maintenance  of  a  respectable 
 tradesman,  or  a  yeoman,  or  one  of  the  in- 
 ferior clergy.  Ibid. 
 
 BIBLE— Variety  in  the. 
 
 Whether  we  look  at  the  Old  or  New 
 Testament,  the  same  richness  and  variety 
 of  form  reveal  themselves,  until  it  may 
 truly  be  said,  that  out  of  the  ground  of 
 this  paradise  also  the  Lord  God  has  made 
 "  to  grow  every  tree  that  is  pleasant  to  the 
 sight  and  good  for  food;"  all  that  the 
 earth  has  fairest  appearing  here  in  fairer 
 and  more  perfect  form — the  fable,  only 
 here  transformed  into  the  parable— the  ode 
 transfigured  into  the  psalm — oracles  into 
 prophecies — histories  of  this  world  into 
 histories  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Nor 
 is  tragedy  wanting,  though  for  ffidipus 
 we  have  the  man  of  Uz  ;  nor  epos,  though 
 for  "  the  tale  of  Troy  divine,"  ours  is  the 
 story  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  "  coming  down 
 out  of  heaven  as  a  bride  adoi-ned  for  her 
 husband."  I  would  willingly  show  how 
 this  also  was  needful,  if  the  book  whereof 
 we  are  speiikiug  should  indeed  leaven  tlie 
 world,  should  oiler  nutriment,  not  merely 
 
 for  some  men,  but  for  all  men;  and  far 
 from  all  tyrannous  lopping  of  all  to  one 
 and  the  same  length,  should  encourage  in 
 every  man  the  free  development  of  what- 
 ever had  been  given  him  of  God.  Thus  it 
 must  needs  have  been,  if  the  Spirit  by  this 
 Word  was  to  sanctify  all  in  every  man 
 which  was  capable  of  being  sanctified ;  all 
 which,  coming  originally  from  God,  could 
 be  redeemed  from  the  defilement  of  this 
 world,  and  in  purer  shape  be  asain  restored 
 unto  Him.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 BIBLE— "Worthless. 
 
 What  a  pin  is  when  the  diamond  has 
 dropped  from  its  setting,  that  is  the  Bible 
 when  its  emotive  truths  have  been  taken 
 away.  What  a  babe's  clothes  are  when  the 
 babe  has  slipped  out  of  them  into  death, 
 and  the  mother's  arms  clasp  only  raiment, 
 would  be  the  Bible  if  the  Babe  of  Bethle- 
 hem and  the  truths  of  deep-lieartedness 
 that  clothed  His  life  should  slip  cut  of  it. 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BIBLE— Writers  of  the. 
 
 Although  good  men  wrote  the  Bible,  our 
 faith  in  the  Bible  does  not  rest  on  the  good- 
 ness of  the  men  who  wrote  it.  The  fatal 
 facility  witli  which  men  glide  into  the  wor- 
 ship of  men  may  suggest  another  reason 
 why  some  of  the  channels  chosen  for  con- 
 veying the  mind  of  God  were  marred  by 
 glaring  deficiencies.  Among  many  earthen 
 vessels,  in  various  measures  purged  of  their 
 filthiness,  may  not  the  Divine  Administra- 
 tor in  wisdom  select  for  actual  use  some  of 
 the  least  pure,  in  order  bj^  that  grosser  ar- 
 gument to  force  into  grosser  minds  the 
 conviction  that  the  excellency  of  the  power 
 is  all  of  God  ? — if  no  stain  of  sin  could  be 
 traced  on  their  character,  no  error  noted  in 
 their  life,  it  is  certain  that  the  Bible  would 
 not  have  served  all  the  purposes  which  it 
 now  serves  among  men.  It  would  have 
 been  God-like,  *indeed,  in  matter  and  in 
 mould,  but  it  would  not  have  reached  down 
 to  the  low  estate  of  man — it  would  not  have 
 penetrated  to  the  sores  of  a  human  heart. 
 For  engraving  the  life-lessons  of  His  Word, 
 our  Father  uses  only  diamonds  ;  but  in  every 
 diamond  there  is  a  flaw,  in  some  a  greater 
 and  in  some  a  less.  Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 Not  a  line  of  Solomon's  writings  tends 
 to  palliate  Solomon's  sins.  Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 The  glaring  imperfections  of  Solomon's 
 life  have  been  used  as  dark  ground  to  set 
 off  the  lustre  of  that  pure  righteousness 
 which  the  Spirit  has  spoken  by  his  lips. 
 
 Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 It  is  certain  that  in  the  main,  the  vessels 
 which  the  Spirit  used  were  sanctified  ves- 
 sels.    "  Holy  men  of  God  spake  as  they 
 
BIBLE— BIGOTEY. 
 
 81 
 
 were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  But  as 
 they  were  all  corrupt  at  first,  so  there  were 
 fliversities  in  the  operation  whereby  they 
 were  called  and  qualified  for  their  work. 
 
 Dr.  Arnot, 
 
 BIBLE  AND  NATUEE. 
 
 The  God  of  nature  and  the  Bible  is  one. 
 He  who  inspired  histories,  and  psalms,  and 
 prophecies,  and  epistles,  was  He  who  made 
 stars  and  flowers  j  and  the  works  of  His 
 hands  never  look  so  fair  as  when  studied  in 
 the  light  of  His  Word.  Nature  is  not  so 
 much  a  book  by  which  we  can  find  out  God 
 as  a  book  from  which  we  may  gather  illus- 
 trations of  what  God  is,  having  learned  His 
 perfections  from  His  revealed  truth.  It  is 
 said  of  Archbishop  Usher,  when  he  grew 
 old,  and  spectacles  could  not  help  his  failing 
 sight,  that  a  book  was  dark  except  beneath 
 the  strongest  light  of  the  windows.  And 
 the  aged  man  would  sit  against  the  case- 
 ment, with  his  outspread  volume  before 
 him,  till  the  sunshine  flitted  to  another 
 opening,  when  he  would  change  his  place, 
 and  put  himself  again  under  the  brilliant 
 rays ;  and  so  he  would  move  about  with  the 
 light  till  the  day  was  done,  and  his  studies 
 ended.  And  truly,  we  may  say  our  weak 
 eyes  will  not  suflSce  to  make  out  the  in- 
 scription on  the  page  of  nature,  unless  we 
 hold  it  up  in  a  Divine  light — unless  we  get 
 near  the  window  of  Scripture,  where  God 
 pours  in  upon  us  the  radiance  of  His  spirit. 
 And  wherever  it  shines  let  us  follow  it, 
 knowing  that  nowhere  but  in  its  illumina- 
 tion can  we  study  the  spiritual  meanings 
 of  nature  so  well.  J.  StougUon. 
 
 BIBLE  AND  SCIENCE. 
 
 I  have  been  blamed  by  men  of  science, 
 both  in  this  country  (America)  and  in 
 England,  for  quoting  the  Bible  in  confirma- 
 tion of  the  doctiines  of  physical  geography. 
 The  Bible,  they  say,  was  not  written  for 
 scientific  purposes,  and  is  therefore  of  no 
 authority.  I  beg  pardon;  the  Bible  is 
 autliority  for  everything  it  touches.  What  ! 
 would  you  think  of  the  historian  who  I 
 should  refuse  to  consult  the  historical 
 records  of  the  Bible  because  the  Bible  was 
 not  written  for  the  purpose  of  history? 
 The  Bible  is  true,  and  science  is  true ;  arid 
 when  your  man  of  science,  with  vain  and 
 hasty  conceit,  announces  the  discovery  of  a 
 disagreement  between  them,  rely  upon  it, 
 the  fault  is  not  with  the  witness  or  his 
 records,  but  with  the  "worm  "  who  essays 
 to  interpret  evidence  which  he  does  not 
 understand. 
 
 When  I,  a  pioneer  in  one  department  of 
 this  beautiful  science,  discover  the  truths 
 of  revelation  and  the  truths  of  science  re- 
 flecting light  one  upon  the  other,  and  each 
 sustaining  the  other,  how  can  I,  as  a  truth- 
 loving,    knowledge-seeking   man,   fail    to 
 
 point  out  the  beauty,  and  rejoice  in  the 
 discovery  ?  And  were  I  to  suppress  the 
 emotions  with  which  such  discoveries  ought 
 to  stir  the  soul,  the  waves  of  the  sea  would 
 lift  up  their  voice,  and  the  very  stones  of 
 the  earth  cry  out  against  me. 
 
 As  a  student  of  physical  geograuhy,  I 
 regard  the  earth,  sea,  air,  and  water,  as 
 pieces  of  mechanism  not  made  with  hands, 
 but  to  which,  nevertheless,  certain  offices 
 have  been  assigned  in  the  terrestrial  eco- 
 nomy. It  is  good  and  profitable  to  seek  to 
 find  out  these  offices,  and  point  them  out 
 to  our  fellows.  And  when,  after  patient 
 research,  I  am  led  to  the  discovery  of  any 
 one  of  them,  I  feel  with  the  astronomer  of 
 old,  as  though  1  had  "thought  one  of 
 God's  thoughts,"  and  tremble. 
 
 Lieut.  Maury. 
 
 BIGOTEY— Absurdity  of. 
 
 The  Church  Ecclesiastical  is  like  a  vast 
 water  company  chartered  to  supply  the 
 Church  of  Life.  But  how  absurd  it  would 
 be  for  a  water  company  to  claim  the  right 
 to  interdict  rain  from  heaven,  or  to  say  to 
 the  inhabitants  of  a  particular  city  or  dis- 
 trict,  "  You  shall  receive  no  water  except 
 it  pass  through  the  hydraulic  machinery 
 which  I  have  constructed."      Dr.  Gordon. 
 
 BIGOTEY— Blindness  of. 
 
 Some  time  ago,  a  countryman  said  to  me, 
 "  I  was  extremely  alarmed  this  morning, 
 sir ;  I  was  going  down  to  a  lonely  place, 
 and  I  thought  I  saw  a  strange  monster. 
 It  seemed  in  motion,  but  I  could  not  dis- 
 cern its  form.  I  didn't  like  to  turn  back, 
 but  my  heart  beat ;  and  the  more  I  looked, 
 the  more  I  was  afraid.  But  as  I  approached 
 I  saw  it  was  a  man  ;  and  who  do  you  think 
 it  was  ?"  "  I  know  not."  "  Oh,  it  was 
 my  brother  John  !"  Ah,  said  I  to  myself, 
 as  he  added  that  it  was  early  in  the  morn- 
 ing, and  very  foggy,  "  how  often  do  we 
 thus  mistake  our  Christian  brethren  !" 
 
 W.  Jay. 
 
 BIGOTEY— Cruelty  of. 
 
 Francis  I,  King  of  France,  used  to  de- 
 clare, "that  if  he  thought  the  blood  in 
 his  arm  tainted  with  Lutheran  heresy,  he 
 would  have  it  cut  oft',  and  that  he  would 
 not  spare  even  his  own  children,  if  they 
 entertained  sentiments  contrary  to  the 
 Catholic  Church."  Anon. 
 
 BIGOTEY— Definition  of. 
 
 Bigotry  consists  in  being  obstinately  and 
 permanently  attached  to  our  own  opinions ; 
 or,  as  some  have  defined  it,  "  a  tenacious 
 adherence  to  a  system  adopted  without  in- 
 vestigation, and  defended  without  argu- 
 ment, accompanied  with  a  malignant 
 intolerant  spirit  towards  all  who  differ." 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
82 
 
 BIGOTRY— BLASPHEMY. 
 
 BIGOTRY— Envy  of. 
 
 In  the  reigu  of  Abdallah  the  Third,  there 
 was  a  great  drought  at  Bagdad  ;  the  Ma- 
 homedan  doctors  issued  a  decree  that  the 
 prayers  of  the  faithful  should  be  offered  up 
 for  rain;  the  drought  continued.  The 
 Jews  were  then  permitted  to  add  their 
 prayers  to  those  of  the  true  believers  ;  the 
 supplications  of  both  were  ineffectual;  as 
 famine  stared  them  in  the  face,  those 
 dogs,  the  Christians,  were  at  length  en- 
 joined also  to  pray ;  it  so  happened  that 
 torrents  of  rain  immediately  followed.  The 
 ■whole  Conclave,w\th  the  Mufti  at  their  head, 
 were  now  as  indignant  at  the  cessation  of 
 the  drought,  as  they  were  before  alarmed 
 at  its  continuance.  Some  explanation  was 
 necessary  to  the  people,  and  holy  convoca- 
 tion was  held  ;  the  members  of  it  came  to 
 this  unanimous  determination  : — That  the 
 God  of  their  Prophet  was  highly  gratified 
 by  the  prayers  of  the  faithful;  that  they 
 were  as  incense  and  as  sweet  smelling 
 savours  unto  him,  and  that  he  refused  their 
 requests  that  he  might  prolong  the  pleasui-e 
 of  listening  to  their  supplications ;  but 
 that  the  prayers  of  those  Christian  infidels 
 were  an  abomination  to  the  Deity,  anl  that 
 He  granted  their  petitions,  the  sooner  to  get 
 rid  of  their  loathsome  importunities. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 BIGOTRY— Evils  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  detestable  evils  that  disgrace 
 the  Christian  world,  sectarian  bigotry  is 
 certainly  the  most  pernicious — the  most  to 
 be  dreaded.  It  is  fashionable  to  declaim 
 against  the  evils  of  enthusiasm  and  fana- 
 ticism, and  perhaps  with  some  reason ; 
 where  they  exist  they  are  deeply  to  be  de- 
 plored ;  we  do  not  defend  or  palliate  them. 
 But  what  are  these  compared  with  the 
 dark  malignant  spirit  of  bigotry  ?  Enthu- 
 siasm has  the  glory  of  tlie  sun  to  kindle  up 
 its  mists  and  clouds  with  beauty.  Fanati- 
 cism has  thunder  and  lightning  and  me- 
 teors in  its  gloom,  and  the  tempest  which 
 it  threatens  may  soon  be  dispersed;  but 
 bigotry  is  the  palpable  obscure,  the  solid 
 temperament  of  darkness,  mixed  with  dri- 
 velling rain  ;  its  pestilential  vapours  blast 
 the  lovely  fruits  of  piety  and  goodness, 
 while  all  noxious,  all  prodigious  things  crawl 
 forth,  and  increase  the  horror  of  the  night. 
 Anon. 
 BIGOTRY— Folly  of. 
 
 It  would  be  folly  in  England  saj'ing  to 
 the  Shetland  Isles,  You  do  not  belong  to 
 God's  earth  because  you  are  so  small  and 
 leas  run  between  us.  So  it  would  be  for 
 America  to  say  to  England,  You  are  not  of 
 God's  earth  because  you  are  only  as  a  speck 
 in  creation,  and  a  great  ocean  rolls  between 
 lis.  It  would  be  folly  in  the  European  to 
 say  to  the  African,  You  are  not  of  the  hu- 
 man species,  because  you  are  coloured  in 
 
 your  skin  and  born  in  another  part  of  the 
 world.  It  would  be  folly  in  the  American 
 to  declare  to  the  Chinese,  You  are  not  of 
 the  race  of  men  because  you  do  not  speak 
 our  language  and  follow  our  customs.  It 
 would  be  folly  in  a  number  of  travellers  of 
 different  ages,  dress,  circumstances,  and 
 appearances,  going  on  the  high  road  to 
 London,  to  be  telling  each  other  they  were 
 on  the  wrong  road  and  not  going  to  Lon- 
 don, because  they  were  not  all  of  the  same 
 age,  dress,  circumstances,  and  appearances. 
 It  is  equally  foolish  in  the  Episcopalian 
 to  shut  out  the  Presbyterian,  because  he 
 varies  from  him  in  some  of  the  external 
 things  of  the  church,  or  for  any  denomina- 
 tion of  Christians  to  be  exercising  any 
 bigoted  feelings  towards  another.  As  all 
 continents,  islands,  seas,  rivers,  races  of 
 men,  &c.,  are  bound  up  in  one  creation  of 
 God,  by  currents,  underlying  rocks,  ele- 
 ments of  nature,  laws,  &c.,  and  cannot  be 
 isolated  into  so  many  creations,  so  the  va- 
 rious bodies  of  Christians.  John  Bate. 
 
 BIGOTRY— Narrow-minded. 
 
 Mr.  T —  sees  religion  not  as  a  sphere,  but 
 as  a  line ;  and  it  is  the  identical  Ihie  in 
 which  he  is  moving.  He  is  like  an  African 
 buffalo — sees  right  forward,  but  nothing  on 
 the  right  hand  or  the  left.  He  would  not 
 perceive  a  legion  of  angels  or  of  devils  at 
 the  distance  of  ten  yards  on  the  one  side  or 
 the  other.  /.  Foster. 
 
 BIGOTRY— Selfishness  of. 
 
 The  following  lines,  though  quaint  and 
 unpoetic,  well  represent  this  feature  of 
 bigotry : 
 
 "  Lord,  bless  me  and  my  wife. 
 My  son  John,  and  his  wife ; 
 We  four. 
 And  no  more.     Amen."  John  Bate. 
 
 BLASPHEMY— Definitions  of. 
 
 Blasphemy  properly  denotes  calumny, 
 detraction,  reproachful  or  abusive  lan- 
 guage, against  whomsoever  it  be  vented. 
 It  is  in  Scripture  applied  to  reproaches  not 
 aimed  against  God  only,  but  man  also. 
 (Rom.  iii,  8;  xiv,  16;  1  Pet.  iv,  4.)  It  is, 
 however,  more  peculiarly  restrained  to  evil 
 or  reproachful  words  offered  to  God. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 Blasphemy  is  an  injury  offered  to  God, 
 by  denying  that  which  is  due  and  belonging 
 to  Him,  or  attributing  to  Him  what  is  not 
 agreeable  to  His  nature.  Linwood. 
 
 BLASPHEMY— Elements  of. 
 
 "  Three  things,"  says  a  divine,  "are  es- 
 sential to  this  crime :  1.  God  must  be  the 
 object.  2.  The  words  spoken  or  written, 
 independent  of  consequences  which  others 
 
BLESSED— BLESSINGS. 
 
 83 
 
 may  derive  from  them,  must  be  injurious 
 in  their  nature.  And,  3.  He  who  commits 
 this  crime  must  do  it  knowingly.  This  is 
 real  blasphemy ;  but  there  is  a  relative 
 blasphemy,  as  when  a  man  may  be  guilty 
 ignorantly,  by  propagating  opinions  which 
 dishonour  God,  the  tendency  of  which  he 
 does  not  perceive.  A  man  may  be  guilty 
 of  this  constructinely ;  for  if  he  speak  freely 
 against  received  errors,  it  will  be  construed 
 into  blasphemy."  C.  Buck. 
 
 BLESSED— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  Scriptures  pronounce  the  following 
 as  those  who  are  blessed  : 
 
 "  Those  whom  God  chooses ;  whom  God 
 calls ;  who  know  Christ ;  who  know  the 
 Gospel ;  who  are  not  offended  at  Christ ; 
 who  believe;  whose  sins  are  forgiven;  to 
 whom  God  imputes  righteousness  without 
 Avorks;  whom  God  chastens;  who  suffer 
 fcr Christ;  who  have  the  Lord  for  their 
 God;  who  trust  in  God;  who  fear  God; 
 who  hear  and  keep  the  word  of  God ;  who 
 delight  in  the  commandments  of  God ;  who 
 wait  for  the  Lord;  whose  strength  is  in 
 the  Lord;  who  hunger  and  thirst  after 
 righteousness  ;  who  frequent  the  house  of 
 God ;  who  avoid  the  wicked ;  who  endure 
 temptation ;  who  watch  against  sin  ;  who 
 rebuke  sinners  ;  who  watch  for  the  Lord  ; 
 who  die  in  the  Lord;  who  have  part  in 
 the  first  resurrection  ;  who  favour  saints ; 
 the  uiidefiled;  the  pure  in  heart;  the  just; 
 the  children  of  the  just;  the  righteous; 
 the  generation  of  the  upright ;  the  faithful ; 
 the  poor  in  spirit ;  the  meek ;  the  merci- 
 ful; the  bountiful;  the  peace-makers; 
 holy  mourners;  saints  at  the  judgment 
 day ;  who  shall  eat  bread  in  the  kingdom 
 of  God."  John  Bate. 
 
 Who  are  the  bless'd  ? 
 They    who   have    kept    their   sympathies 
 
 awake. 
 And  scattered  joy  for  more  than  custom's 
 
 sake — 
 Stedfast  and  tender  in  the  hour  of  need. 
 Gentle  in  thought,  benevolent  in  deed  ; 
 Whose  looks  have  power  to  make  dissen- 
 
 tions  cease — 
 Whose  smile  is  pleasant  and  whose  words 
 
 are  peace ; 
 They  who  have  lived  as  harmless  as  the  dove. 
 Teachers  of  truth  and  ministers  of  love ; 
 Love    for   all    moral    power — all    mental 
 
 grace — 
 Love  for  the  humblest  of  the  human  race — 
 Love   for  that   tranquil   joy   that   virtue 
 
 brings — 
 Love  for  the  Giver  of  all  goodly  things ; 
 True  followers  of  that  soul  exalting  plan 
 Which  Christ  laid  down  to  bless  and  go- 
 vern man ; 
 They  who  can  calmly  linger  to  the  last. 
 Survey  the  future  and  recall  the  past ; 
 
 And  with  that  hope  which  triumphs  over 
 
 pain. 
 Feel  well-assured  they  have  not  lived  in 
 
 vain ; 
 Then    wait  in   peace  their  hour  of  final 
 
 rest  — 
 These  are  the  only  bless'd  !  Fnnce. 
 
 BLESSING— Asking  a. 
 
 Learn  to  ask  God's  blessing  on  little 
 things,  as  well  as  great.  There  is  nothing 
 whicli  it  is  right  for  us  to  do,  but  it  is  also 
 right  to  ask  that  God  would  bless  it ;  and, 
 indeed,  there  is  nothing  so  little  but  the 
 frown  of  God  can  convert  it  into  the  most 
 sad  calamity,  or  His  smile  exalt  it  into  a 
 most  memorable  mercy ;  and  there  is 
 nothing  we  can  do,  but  its  complexion  for 
 weal  or  woe  depends  entirely  oa  what  the 
 Lord  will  make  it.  It  is  said  of  Matthew 
 Henry,  that  no  journey  was  undertaken, 
 nor  any  subject  or  course  of  sermons 
 entered  upon,  no  book  committed  to  the 
 press,  nor  any  trouble  apprehended  or  felt, 
 without  a  particular  application  to  the 
 mercy  seat  for  direction,  assistance,  and 
 success.  ...  It  is  recorded  of  Cornelius 
 Winter,  that  he  seldom  opened  a  book, 
 even  on  general  sulijects,  without  a  mo- 
 ment's prayer.  The  late  Bishop  Heber,  on 
 each  new  incident  of  his  history,  or  on  the 
 eve  of  any  undertaking,  used  to  compose  a 
 brief  Latin  prayer,  imploring  special  help 
 and  guidance.  ...  A  late  physician,  of 
 great  celebrity,  iised  to  ascribe  much  of  his 
 success  to  three  maxims  of  his  father's,  the 
 last  and  best  of  which  was  "  Always  pray 
 for  your  patients."  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 BLESSINGS— Cursed. 
 
 Even  the  best  things,  ill  used,  become 
 evils,  and  contrarily,  the  vvorst  things,  used 
 well,  prove  good.  A  good  tongue  used  to 
 deceit ;  a  good  wit  used  to  defend  error ; 
 a  strong  arm  to  murder;  authority  to 
 oppress ;  a  good  profession  to  dissemble  ; 
 are  all  evil.  Even  God's  own  word  is  the 
 sword  of  the  Spirit,  which,  if  it  kill  not 
 our  vices,  kills  our  souls.  Contrariwise  (as 
 poisons  are  used  to  wholesome  medicine) 
 afflictions  and  sins,  by  a  good  use,  prove  so 
 gainful  as  nothing  more.  Words  are  as 
 they  are  taken,  and  things  are  as  they  are 
 used.     There  are  even  cursed  blessings. 
 
 Bp.  Sail. 
 
 BLESSINGS— For  Cursings. 
 
 "  Bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to 
 them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them 
 which  despitefuUy  use  you  and  persecute 
 you ;  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your 
 Father  which  is  in  heaven;  for  He  maketh 
 His  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good, 
 and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the 
 unjust."  You  must  not  only  chain  these 
 thoughts  of  hatred,  and  put  them  down 
 
84 
 
 BLIND— BIOOD  OP  JESUS. 
 
 into  the  dungeon,  bnt  you  must  call  up  a 
 choir  of  sweet  singers  in  their  places. 
 Every  time  your  enemy  fires  a  curse,  you 
 must  fire  a  blessing,  and  so  you  are  to 
 bombard  back  and  forth  with  this  kind  of 
 artillery.  The  mother  grace  of  all  the 
 graces  is  Christian  good-will. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BLIND— Examples  of  the  Eminent. 
 
 Homer,  Ossian,  Milton,  Blacklock,  were 
 poets.  Sanderson,  celebrated  mathema- 
 tician and  Lucasian  Professor  at  Cambridge 
 (blind  before  one  year  old).  Euler,  a 
 mathematician.  Huber,  author  of  a  work 
 on  the  'Habits  of  Bees.'  M.  Phefel,  of 
 Colmar,  also  a  poet,  his  works  fill  six 
 octavo  volumes.  Miss  Frances  Brown,  a 
 poetess  of  considerable  excellence.  Hol- 
 maii  travelled  round  the  world.  William 
 Metcalf,  builder  of  roads  and  bridges. 
 John  Metcalf,  of  Manchester,  guide  to 
 those  travelling  through  intricate  roans  by 
 night,  wlien  covered  with  snow;  after- 
 wards a  projector  and  surveyor  of  roads  in 
 difiicult  mountainous  parts :  most  of  the 
 roads  about  the  Peak,  and  near  Buxton, 
 were  altered  by  his  direction.  Laura 
 Bridgman  could  neither  see,  hear,  nor 
 speak,  yet  she  learned  herself  a  sinner  and 
 Christ  a  Saviour.  Milburn  was  chaplain 
 for  some  time  to  the  American  Congress ; 
 is  a  writer,  lecturer,  and  traveller.  Pres- 
 cott  was  a  famous  historian.  Goodrich, 
 an  excellent  writer  for  the  young.  Rev. 
 J.  Crosse  was  vicar  of  Bradford.  John 
 Gough,  of  Kendal,  was  a  famous  mathe- 
 matician, and  an  accurate  botanist  and 
 zoologist.  Dr.  Moyes,  of  Kirkaldy,  was  an 
 itinerant  lecturer  on  chemistry  and  optics, 
 though  blind.  Lord  Cranbourne,  blind 
 from  his  childhood,  published  a  few  years 
 ago,  a  history  of  France  for  children. 
 Giovanni  Gambassio  became  an  excellent 
 statuary.  The  present  king  of  Hanover  is 
 blind;  and  Zisca,  the  Bohemian  general, 
 performed  great  acts  of  valoui-  after  the 
 loss  of  his  sight.  Anon. 
 
 BLINDNESS— An  Affliction. 
 
 It  would  be  a  dreadful  thing  to  me  to 
 lose  my  sight ;  to  see  no  more  the  faces  of 
 those  I  love,  nor  the  sweet  blue  of  heaven, 
 nor  the  myriad  stars  that  gem  the  sky, 
 nor  the  dissolving  clouds  that  pass  over  it, 
 nor  the  battling  ships  upon  the  sea,  nor 
 the  mountains  with  their  changing  lines 
 of  light  and  shade,  nor  the  loveliness  of 
 flowers,  nor  the  bui-nished  mail  of  insects. 
 But  I  should  do  as  other  blind  men  have 
 done  before  me;  I  should  take  God's  rod 
 aixl  staff"  for  my  guide  and  comfort,  and 
 wait  patiently  for  death  to  bring  better 
 light  to  nobler  eyes.  Oh  ye  who  are  living 
 in  the  darkness  of  sin  !  turn  before  it  is  too 
 late  to  the  light  of  holiness,  else  death  will 
 
 bring  to  you,  not  recreation,  but  retribu- 
 tion. Earthly  blindness  can  be  borne,  for 
 it  is  but  for  a  day ;  but  who  could  bear  to 
 be  blind  through  eternity  ? 
 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BLINDNESS— Fortitude  in. 
 
 Nor  to  these  idle  orbs  doth  sight  appear 
 
 Of  sun,  or  moon,  or  stars  throughout  the 
 
 year, 
 Or  man  or  woman.     Yet  I  argue  not 
 Against  heaven's  hand  or  witl,  nor  bate  a 
 
 jot 
 Of  heart  or  hope ;  but  still  bear  up  and  steer 
 Right  onward.  Milton. 
 
 BLINDNESS— Privations  of. 
 
 Thus  with  the  year 
 Seasons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
 Day,  or  the  sweet  approach  of  ev'n  or  morn, 
 Or  sight  of  vernal  bloom,  or  summer's  rose. 
 Or  flocks,  or  herds,  or  human  face  divine ; 
 But  clouds  instead,  and  ever-during  dark 
 Surrounds  me,  from  the  cheerful  ways  of 
 
 man 
 Cut  off",  and  for  the  book  of  knowledge  fair 
 Presented  with  an  universal  blank 
 Of  nature's  works  to   me   expung'd   and 
 
 ras'd. 
 And  wisdom  at  one  entrance  quite  shut  out. 
 Milton. 
 
 BLOOD  OP  JESUS— Application  of  the. 
 
 It  was  not  enough,  under  the  Levitical 
 sacrifices,  that  the  blood  of  the  victim  was 
 shed  and  poured  out ;  it  must  be  put  into 
 a  basin,  and  the  blood  of  the  paschal  lamb 
 was  required  to  be  sprinkled  upon  the 
 lintels  and  sideposts  of  the  door  of  the 
 house ;  it  was  the  sjorinkled  blood  that  was 
 the  sign  to  the  destroying  angel  to  pass 
 over.  My  fellow  sinner,  it  is  not  enough 
 for  us  that  the  very  Paschal  Lamb  was 
 slain  ;  it  is  indispensably  necessai'y  that  the 
 blood  should  be  sprinkled  and  applied  to 
 our  guilty  souls,  to  purify  us  from  our  sins. 
 "  For  if  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats  was 
 sprinkled  upon  the  unclean  to  the  puri- 
 fying of  the  flesh,"  its  design  was  to  teach 
 us  how  much  more  the  blood  of  Christ 
 must  be  applied  "  to  purge  our  conscience 
 from  dead  works  to  serve  the  living  God." 
 Dr.  R.  Newton. 
 
 BLOOD  OF  JESUS— Blessings  in  the 
 
 It  is  in  the  blood  of  Jesus  that  God  has 
 laid  up  these  blessings  for  us,  as  in  a  store- 
 house. This  is  true,  not  only  of  spiritual 
 blessings,  but  of  all  blessings  whatsoever. 
 Tliat  the  elements  stiU  wait  upon  us  sinners, 
 that  things  around  us  are  so  bright  and 
 beautiful,  that  pain  has  so  many  balms,  that 
 sorrow  has  so  many  alleviations,  that  the 
 common  course  of  daily  providence  is  so 
 kindly  and  so  patient,  that  the  weight,  the 
 frequency,  and  the  bitterness  of  evils  are  so 
 
BLOOD  OP  JESUS. 
 
 85 
 
 much  lightened, — is  owing  to  the  precious 
 blood  of  Jesus.  It  is  by  this  blood  He  has 
 created  over  again  His  frustrated  creation. 
 It  is  out  of  this  blood  that  all  graces  of  the 
 Spirit  flow  to  us.  It  is  this  blood  which 
 merits  all  good  things  for  every  one.  The 
 unhappy  would  he  more  unhappy  were  it 
 not  for  this  blood.  The  wicked  would  be 
 more  wicked  were  it  not  for  this  blood. 
 
 Br.  F.  W.  Faber. 
 
 I  dare  assert,  without  fear  of  successful 
 contradiction,  that  the  inspired  writers 
 attribute  all  the  blessings  of  salvation  to 
 the  precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  we 
 have  redemption  it  is  through  His  blood  ; 
 if  we  are  justified,  it  is  by  His  blood;  if 
 washed  from  our  moral  stains,  it  is  by  His 
 blood,  which  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin ;  if 
 we  liave  victory  over  the  last  enemy,  we 
 obtain  it  not  only  by  the  word  of  the  Divine 
 testimony,  but  through  the  blood  of  the 
 Lamb ;  and  if  tve  gain  admittance  into 
 heaven,  it  is  because  we  "  have  washed  our 
 robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of 
 the  Lamb,  and  therefore  are  we  before  the 
 throne  of  God."  Everything  depends  on 
 the  blood  of  Christ,  and  "  without  shedding 
 of  blood  is  no  remission." 
 
 Dr.  R.  Neioton, 
 
 BLOOD  OE  JESUS— Cleanses. 
 
 Sins  as  red  as  scarlet,  sins  as  numerous 
 as  the  stars,  or  as  the  sands  by  the  sea- 
 shore innumerable,  and  nature  as  black  as 
 hell,  a  heart  as  wicked  as  the  devil,  the 
 Divine  and  eternally  precious  blood  of 
 Jesus  can  so  cleanse  and  purify,  that  not 
 one  spot  shall  remain ;  for  He  is  Almighty, 
 
 He  has  all  jjower  in  heaven  and  earth  to 
 pardon  sin.  If  I  had  been  guilty  of  all 
 the  sins  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  of  all  their 
 descendants  to  this  day,  yet,  believing  in 
 Him,  I  should  be  safe,  because  His  blood 
 cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Romaine. 
 
 You  waste  precious  time  in  attempting, 
 independently  of  the  blood  of  God's  Son 
 and  the  aid  of  His  Spirit,  to  change  your 
 heart  and  save  your  soul.  In  you  so  un- 
 protitably  engaged,  I  see  a  negro,  black 
 and  tawny,  seated  by  a  running  stream,  a 
 laughingstock  to  some,  an  object  of  pity 
 to  others,  while  he  labours  and  toils  to 
 wash  himself  white,  and  remove  the  dark 
 colour  from  his  skin.  Rise,  throw  "  soap 
 and  nitre"  into  the  stream,  and,  turning 
 your  back  on  all  self-righteous  appliances, 
 go,  seek  the  blood  that  cleanseth  from  sin. 
 Day  by  day  are  you  busy  and  painstaking 
 in  the  attempt  to  work  out  a  righteousness 
 of  your  own  ?  Leave  that  loom,  your  vows 
 and  promises.  Gossamer  threads  !  are  they 
 not  ever  snapping  in  your  hand,  and  break- 
 ing at  each  throw  of  the  shuttle?  The 
 white  linen  that  robes  the  saint,  the  raiment 
 
 meet  for  thy  soul,  and  approved  of  God, 
 was  woven  upon  the  cross  :  and  there,  with 
 colour  more  enduring  than  Tyrian  purple, 
 it  was  dyed  in  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God. 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 BLOOD  OF  JESUS— Efficacy  of  the. 
 
 Let  us  think  of  the  innumerable  stars. 
 Let  us  multiply  their  actual  millions  by 
 millions  of  imaginary  millions  more.  Let 
 us  suppose  them  all  to  be  densely  in- 
 habited for  countless  ages  by  races  of  fallen 
 beings.  We  have  no  figures  to  show  the 
 number  of  the  individual  souls,  still  less  to 
 represent  the  multiplied  acts  of  sin  of  all 
 those  single  souls  or  spirits.  But  we  know 
 this^that  the  blood  of  Jesus  would  have 
 boen  more  than  sufficient  to  cleanse  all 
 th;ise  countless  fallen  creations,  and  to  ab- 
 solve every  separate  sinner  from  every  one 
 of  his  multitudinous  sins.  Dr.  F.  W.  Faber. 
 
 We  are  told  that  there  is  no  power  of 
 chemistry,  or  art,  or  genius,  or  all  com- 
 bined, that  can  convert  scarlet  and  crimson 
 rags  into  white  paper  :  hence  these  gene- 
 rally make  the  red  blotting  paper.  Sin 
 thus  defies  all  human  power  to  change  it 
 or  wash  it  away.  But  the  Almighty  says, 
 "  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they 
 shall  be  as  white  as  snOw ;  though  they  be 
 red  like  crimson,  they  sliall  be  as  wool." 
 And  how  is  this  marvellous  change  ef- 
 fected— a  change  of  which  there  is  no 
 analogy  in  nature  ?  •  Let  us  see  :  "  The 
 blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth 
 us  from  all  sin."  The  multitude  which 
 St.  John  saw  before  the  throne,  washed 
 their  robes,  crimson  and  scarlet  with  sins 
 as  they  were,  and  defying  all  human  means 
 to  change  them,  and  made  them  white 
 in  the  biood  of  the  Lamb.         John  Bate. 
 
 BLOOD  OP  JESUS— Salvation  in  the. 
 
 Whither  shall  we  look  for  deliverance 
 fiom  sin  ?  Not  to  ourselves  ;  for  we  know 
 the  practical  infinity  of  our  weakness,  and 
 the  incorrigible  vitality  of  our  corruption. 
 Not  to  any  earthly  power,  for  it  has  no 
 jurisdiction  here.  Not  to  philosophy,  lite- 
 rature, or  science;  for  in  this  case  they 
 are  but  sorry  and  unhelpful  matters.  Not 
 to  any  saint,  however  holy,  nor  to  any 
 angel  however  mighty,  for  the  least  sin  is 
 a  bigger  mountain  than  they  have  facul- 
 ties to  move.  Neither  may  we  look  for 
 deliverance  direct  from  the  patience  and 
 compassion  of  God  Himself;  for  in  the 
 abyss  of  His  wisdom  it  has  been  decreed 
 that  without  shedding  of  blood  there  shall 
 be  no  remission  of  sin.  It  is  from  the 
 precious  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  alone  that 
 our  salvation  comes.  Out  of  the  immen- 
 sity of  its  merits,  and  the  inexhaustible 
 treasures  of  its  iDlessings;  because  of  its 
 
BLOOD  OP  JESUS— BLUSHING. 
 
 resistless  power  over  the  justice  and  the 
 wrath  of  God,  because  of  its  priceless 
 worth  and  its  prevalent  intercessions,  we 
 miserable  sinners  are  raised  out  of  the 
 depth  of  our  wretchedness,  and  restored 
 to  the  peace  and  favour  of  our  Heavenly 
 Father.  Dr.  F.  W.  Faber. 
 
 BLOOD  OF  JESUS— Shed  Six  Times. 
 
 First  when  he  was  circumcised;  at  eight 
 days  old,  His  blood  was  spilt.  Then  in 
 His  agony  in  the  garden,  where  He  sweat 
 drops  of  blood.  Then  in  His  scourging, 
 when  the  merciless  tormentors  fetched 
 blood  from  His  lioly  sides.  Next  when 
 He  was  crowned  with  thorns  ;  those  sharp 
 prickles  raked  and  harrowed  His  blessed 
 head,  and  drew  forth  blood.  Then  in  His 
 crucifying  when  His  hands  and  feet  were 
 pierced,  blood  gushed  out.  Lastly,  after 
 His  death,  "  one  of  the  soldiers  with  a 
 spear  jiierced  His  side,  and  forthwith 
 came  there  out  blood  and  water."  All 
 His  members  bled,  to  show  that  He  bled 
 for  all  His  members.  Not  one  drop  of  this 
 blood  was  shed  for  Himself,  all  for  us ;  for 
 His  enemies,  persecutors,  crucifiers,  our- 
 selves. T.  Adams. 
 
 BLOOD  OP  JESUS— Speaketh. 
 
 "  The  blood  of  sprinkling  which  speaketh 
 better  things  than  the  lilood  of  Abel." 
 The  allusion  is  to  a  pleader  and  advocate. 
 How  forcible  is  the  expression.  The  blood 
 of  sprinkling  speaking  vnto  God  for  us  ; 
 to  His  wisdom,  that  contrived  the  wondrous 
 redeeming  scheme  ; — to  His  mercy  and 
 goodness,  that  prompted  wisdom  to  the 
 contrivance ;  to  His  holiness,  which  must 
 show  its  abhorrence  of  sin  by  some  awful 
 manifestation;  to  His  truth  that  required 
 the  penalty  of  the  law  to  be  inflicted,  if 
 not  on  the  transgressors,  on  their  substi- 
 tute ;  to  eternal  justice,  showing  cause 
 why  a  penitent  believer  in  Jesus  can  be 
 pardoned  and  sanctified,  and  saved.  It 
 speaketh  as  an  advocate  before  the  throne 
 of  God.  For  Christ,  our  High  Priest,  has 
 entered  into  the  Holy  Place  with  His  own 
 blood,  now  to  appear  in  the  presence  of 
 God  for  us.  And  then  it  speaketh  from 
 God  to  Its.  It  speaketh  peace  to  the 
 troubled  conscience,  for  if  we  have  true 
 peace,  it  is  by  the  "  sprinkling  of  the  blood 
 of  Jesus  Christ."  It  speaketh  pardon  to 
 the  penitent  believer ;  for  "  if  we  confess 
 our  sins.  He  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive 
 us  our  sins,"  since  Christ  has  died.  It 
 speaketh  to  the  heart  of  the  Christian, 
 ftirify ;  it  "  cleanseth  us  from  all  un- 
 righteousness." 0  !  what  cannot  this 
 blood  speak  ?  It  can  speak  our  fears  to 
 flight,  our  doubts  to  silence,  our  unbelief 
 to  annihilation  :  it  can  speak  our  sins  into 
 oblivion,  and  it  can  speak  the  faithful  up 
 to  heaven.  Dr.  R.  Neicton. 
 
 BLOOD  OP  JESUS— Sprinkling  of  the. 
 
 FiUhiness  needs  sprinkling;  guiltiness 
 (such  as  deserves  death)  needs  sprinkling 
 of  blood;  and  the  death  it  deserves  being 
 everlasting  death,  the  blood  must  be  the 
 blood  of  Christ,  the  eternal  Lord  of  Life, 
 dying  to  free  us  from  the  sentence  of 
 death. 
 
 The  very  tears  of  the  purest  repentance, 
 unless  they  be  sprinkled  with  this  blood, 
 are  impure ;  all  our  washings  without  this 
 are  but  washings  of  the  Ethiopian — it  is 
 labour  in  vain. 
 
 There  are  none  truly  purified  by  the  love 
 of  Christ,  who  do  not  endeavour  after 
 purity  of  heart  and  conversation ;  but 
 yet  it  is  the  blood  of  Christ  by  which 
 they  are  all  made  fair,  and  there  is  no 
 spot  in  them. 
 
 There  is  nothing  in  religion  further  out 
 of  nature's  reach,  and  out  of  its  liking 
 and  believing,  than  the  doctrine  of  re- 
 demption by  a  Saviour,  and  a  crucified 
 Saviour, — by  Christ,  and  by  His  blood 
 first  shed  on  the  cross  in  His  suftering 
 and  then  sprinkled  on  the  soul  by  His 
 spirit.  Leighton. 
 
 BLOOD  OP  JESUS— Voice  of  the. 
 
 Poets  have  loved  the  music  of  the  moun- 
 tain stream,  as  it  tinkled  down  the  hills 
 amidst  the  stones,  or  murmured  under 
 leafy  shades.  Scripture  speaks  of  the 
 Voice  of  God  as  the  voice  of  many  waters. 
 So  it  is  with  the  precious  blood  of  Jesus. 
 It  has  a  Voice  which  God  hears,  speaking 
 better  things  than  the  blood  of  Abel,  more 
 than  restoring  to  Him  again  the  lost  music 
 of  His  primeval  creation.   Dr.F.  W.Faher. 
 
 BLUSHING— Moral  Beauty  of. 
 
 A  young  girl  was  one  day  censured  by 
 her  mother  for  some  fault,  upon  which  she 
 deeply  blushed,  burst  into  tears,  and  re- 
 tired into  a  corner.  Gotthold  was  pre- 
 sent, and  observed  to  the  mother ;  "  How 
 beautiful  your  reproof  has  made  your 
 daughter  !  That  crimson  hue,  and  silver 
 tears  become  her  better  than  any  orna- 
 ment of  gold  and  jiearls.  These  may 
 hang  on  the  neck  of  a  wanton,  but  those 
 are  never  seen  disconnected  with  moral 
 pui-ity.  A  full-blown  rose,  besprinkled 
 with  the  purest  dew  is  not  so  beautiful 
 as  this  child  blushing  beneath  her  parent's 
 displeasure,  and  shedding  tears  of  sorrow 
 for  her  fault.  A  blush  is  the  sign  which 
 nature  hangs  out  to  show  where  chastity 
 and  honour  dwell."  Gotthold. 
 
 BLUSHING— Nature's  Alarm. 
 
 The  blush  is  nature's  alarm  at  the  ap- 
 proach of  sin — and  her  testimony  to  the 
 dignity  of  virtue.  T.  Fuller. 
 
BOASTING— BODY. 
 
 87 
 
 BOASTING— Dangers  of. 
 
 In  a  well-known  town,  a  slater  had  to 
 mount  the  tall  spire  of  a  church,  and  repair 
 some  injury  done  hy  the  wind.  Having 
 reached  the  top,  he  stood  upright  upon  the 
 ball,  holding  in  his  hand  a  jug  of  wine,  and 
 filling  a  glass,  drank  to  the  health  of  the 
 dignitaries  of  the  place.  The  people  stood 
 below,  wondering  at  his  boldness  and  danger, 
 in  which  he  seemed  to  glory.  But  they 
 forgot  that  the  next  moment  might  hurl 
 him  fi'om  that  eminence ;  and  then  how 
 changed  would  be  his  fate!  Thus  it  is  with 
 "  vain  boasters  ;"  they  are  in  equal  danger. 
 "  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take 
 heed  lest  he  fall."  G.  S.  Bowes- 
 
 BOASTING— Effects  of. 
 
 Lord  Bacon  told  Sir  EdwarrV  Cooke  when 
 he  boasted,  "  The  less  you  speak  of  your 
 greatness,  the  more  I  shall  think  of  it." 
 Mirrors  are  the  accompaniments  of  dandies, 
 not  heroes.  The  men  of  history  were  not 
 perpetually  looking  in  the  glass  to  make 
 sure  of  their  own  size.  Absorbed  in  their 
 work  they  did  it,  and  did  it  so  well  that 
 the  wondering  world  saw  them  to  be 
 great,  and  labelled  them  accordingly. 
 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 BOASTING— Empty. 
 
 What  art  thou  ?  Have  not  I 
 An  arm  as  big  as  thine  ?  A  heart  as  big  ? 
 Thy  words,  I  grant,  are  bigger,  for  I  wear 
 
 not 
 My  dagger  in  my  mouth.         Sliakespeare. 
 
 BOASTING— Vain. 
 
 No  one  can  go  into  any  of  our  large 
 towns  without  being  struck  with  the  fre- 
 quent noises  of  people  calling  attention  to 
 the  goods  which  they  have  to  sell.  The 
 wealthy  and  noble  go  quietly  along  with- 
 out  intruding  on  one's  attention  ;  and  the 
 great  merchants  and  tradesmen  make  no 
 pompous  ado.  This  reminds  one  of  two 
 classes  of  people:  those  who  cannot  pos- 
 sess the  least  amount  of  goodness  without, 
 like  the  Pharisees,  making  a  loud,  boasting 
 display  of  it;  and  those,  who,  like  the 
 Saviour,  possessing  the  largest  measure  of 
 goodness,  make  the  smallest  display  of  it. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 A  gourd  had  wound  itself  around  a  lofty 
 calm,  and  in  a  few  weeks  climbed  to  its 
 'ery  top. 
 
 "  How  old  mayest  thou  be  ?"  asked  the 
 new-comer. 
 
 "  About  a  hundred  years." 
 
 "  About  a  hundred  years,  and  no  taller ! 
 Only  look  :  I  have  grown  as  tall  as  you  in 
 fewer  days  than  you  count  years !" 
 
 "  I  know  that  well,"  replied  the  palm ; 
 "every  summer  of  my  life  a  gourd  has 
 
 climbed  up  around  me,  as  proua  as  thou 
 art,  and  as  short  lived  as  thou  wilt  be." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 BODY— Changes  in  the. 
 
 The  body  is  constantly  undergoing  change 
 in  all  its  parts.  Probably  no  person  at  the 
 age  of  twenty  has  one  single  particle  in 
 any  part  of  his  body  which  he  had  at  ten ; 
 and  still  less  does  any  portion  of  the  body 
 he  was  born  with  continue  to  exist  in  or 
 with  him.  All  that  he  before  had  has  now 
 entered  into  combiiiations,  forming  parts 
 of  other  men,  or  of  animals,  or  of  vege- 
 table or  mineral  substances,  exactly  as  the 
 body  he  now  has  will  afterwards  be  re- 
 solved into  new  combinations  after  his 
 death.  Yet  the  mind  continues  one  and 
 the  same,  "without  change  or  shadow  of 
 turning."  None  of  its  parts  can  be  re- 
 solved ;  for  it  is  one  and  single,  and  it  re- 
 mains unchanged  by  the  changes  of  the 
 body.  Lord  Brougham. 
 
 Our  bodies  are  at  all  times  like  the  fire 
 which  was  shown  to  the  hero  of  the  Pil- 
 grim's  Progress,  in  Interpreter's  house, 
 which  had  water  poured  on  it  on  one  side 
 of  the  wall  against  which  it  blazed,  and 
 oil  on  the  other.  Here  one  tissue  is  burn- 
 ing like  fuel,  and  there  another  is  becoming 
 the  depository  of  combustible  matter.  We 
 have  as  it  were,  millions  of  microscopic 
 wind  furnaces,  converting  into  carbonic 
 acid,  water,  vapour,  and  other  products  of 
 combustion,  all  the  combustible  elements 
 of  the  body;  and  millions  of  blast  fur- 
 naces, reducing  the  starch  and  sugar  of 
 the  food,  and  the  sulphates  and  phosphates 
 of  the  body,  into  inflammable  oils  and 
 other  fuels,  which  are  finally  transferred 
 to  the  wind  furnaces,  and  burned  there. 
 Burning,  and  what  we  must  call  in  con- 
 tradistinction, unburning,  thus  proceed  to- 
 gether :  the  flame  of  life,  like  a  blow-pipe 
 flame,  exhibiting  an  oxidizing  and  a  re- 
 ducing action,  at  points  not  far  distant 
 from  each  other.  Such  is  the  human  body, 
 ever  changing,  ever  abiding.  A  temple 
 always  complete,  and  yet  always  under  re- 
 pair. A  mansion  which  quite  contents  its 
 possessor,  and  yet  has  its  plans  and  ma- 
 terials altered  each  moment.  A  machine 
 which  never  stops  working,  and  yet  is 
 taken  to  pieces  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
 and  put  together  in  the  other.  A  cloth  of 
 gold,  to  which  the  needle  is  ever  adding 
 on  one  side  of  a  line,  and  from  which  the 
 scissors  are  ever  cutting  away  on  the  other. 
 Yes;  life,  like  Penelope  of  old,  is  ever 
 weaving  and  unweaving  the  same  web, 
 whilst  her  grim  suitors,  disease  and  death, 
 watch  for  her  halting ;  only  for  her  there 
 is  no  Ulysses,  who  will  one  day  in  triuiuph 
 return.  Dr.  G.  Wilson. 
 
BODY. 
 
 BODY— before  the  Fall. 
 
 Adam  was  then  no  less  glorious  in  his 
 externals ;  he  had  a  beautiful  body  as  well 
 as  an  immortal  soul.  The  whole  compound 
 was  like  a  well-built  temple,  stately  with- 
 out, and  sacred  within.  The  elements  were 
 at  perfect  union  and  agreement  in  his  body 
 and  their  contrary  qualities  served  not  for 
 the  dissolution  of  the  compound,  the  variety 
 of  the  composure.  Galen,  who  had  no 
 more  divinity  than  what  his  physic  taught 
 him,  barely  upon  the  consideration  of  this 
 so  exact  frame  of  the  body,  challenges  any 
 one,  upon  a  hundred  years'  study,  to  find 
 how  any  the  least  fibre  or  most  minute  par- 
 ticle might  be  more  coramodiously  placed, 
 either  lor  the  advantage  of  use  or  comeli- 
 ness. His  stature  erect,  and  tending  up- 
 wards to  his  centre  ;  his  countenance  ma- 
 jestic and  comely,  with  the  lustre  of  a 
 native  beauty  that  scorned  the  poor  assist- 
 ance of  art  or  the  attempts  of  imitation ; 
 his  body  of  so  much  quickness  and  agility, 
 that  it  did  not  only  contain  but  also  repre- 
 sent the  soul ;  for  we  might  well  suppose, 
 that  where  God  did  deposit  so  rich .  a 
 jewel,  He  would  suitably  adorn  the  case. 
 /  It  was  a  fit  workhouse  for  sprightly,  vivid, 
 faculties  to  exercise  and  exert  themselves 
 in ;  a  fit  tabernacle  for  an  immortal  soul, 
 not  only  to  dwell  in  but  to  contemplate 
 upon ;  where  it  might  see  the  world  with- 
 out travel ;  it  being  a  lesser  scheme  of  the 
 creation,  nature  contracted,  a  little  cosmo- 
 graphy or  map  of  the  universe.  Neither 
 was  the  body  then  subject  to  distemper — 
 to  die  by  piecemeal,  and  languish  under 
 coughs,  catarrhs,  and  consumptions.  Adam 
 knew  no  disease  so  long  as  temperance 
 from  the  forbidden  fruit  secured  him. 
 Nature  was  his  physician;  and  innocence 
 and  abstinence  would  have  kept  him  health- 
 ful to  immortality.  Br.  South. 
 
 BODY— after  the  FaU. 
 
 Take  the  picture  of  a  man  in  the  green- 
 ness and  vivacity  of  his  youth,  and  in  the 
 later  date  and  declensions  of  his  drooping 
 years,  and  you  will  scarce  know  it  to  be- 
 long to  the  same  person ;  there  would  be 
 more  art  to  discern  than  at  first  to  draw  it. 
 The  same  and  greater  is  the  diflerence  be- 
 tween man  innocent  and  fallen.  He  is,  as 
 it  were,  a  new  kind  or  species ;  the  plague 
 of  sin  has  even  altered  his  nature,  and 
 eaten  his  very  essentials.  The  image  of 
 God  is  wiped  out,  the  creatures  have  shook 
 off  His  yoke,  renounced  His  sovereignty, 
 and  revolted  from  His  dominion.  Dis- 
 tempers and  diseases  have  shattered  the 
 excellent  frame  of  his  body,  and  by  a  new 
 dispensation,  immortality  is  swallowed  up 
 of  mortality.  The  same  disaster  and  decay, 
 also,  has  invaded  his  spirituals.  The  pas- 
 sions rebel,  every  faculty  would  usurp  and 
 
 rule;  and  there  are  so  many  governors, 
 that  there  can  be  no  government.  The 
 light  within  us  is  become  darkness ;  and 
 the  understanding,  that  should  be  eyes  to 
 the  blind  faculty  of  the  will,  is  blind  itself, 
 and  so  brings  all  the  inconveniences  that 
 attend  a  blind  follower  under  the  conduct 
 of  a  blind  guide.  He  that  would  have  a 
 clear,  ocular  demonstration  of  this,  let 
 him  reflect  upon  that  numerous  litter  of 
 strange,  senseless,  absurd  opinions,  that 
 crawl  about  the  world,  to  the  disgrace  of 
 reason,  and  the  unanswerable  reproach  of  a 
 broken  intellect.  Br.  South. 
 
 BODY— Frailty  of  the. 
 
 But  so  have  I  seen  a  rose  newly  springing 
 from  the  depths  of  its  hood,  and  at  first  it 
 was  fair  as  the  morning,  and  full  with  the 
 dew  of  heaven  as  a  lamb's  fieece ;  but  when 
 a  ruder  breath  forced  open  its  virgin  mo- 
 desty, and  dismantled  its  too  youthful  and 
 unripe  retirements,  it  began  to  put  on 
 darkness,  and  to  decline  to  softness  and  the 
 symptoms  of  a  sickly  age;  it  bowed  the 
 head  and  broke  its  stalk;  and,  at  night, 
 having  lost  some  of  its  leaves,  and  all  its 
 beauty,  it  fell  into  the  portion  of  weeds  and 
 outworn  faces.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 The  morning  flowers  display  their  sweets. 
 
 And  gay  their  silken  leaves  unfold. 
 As  careless  of  the  noon-tide  heats. 
 
 As  fearless  of  the  evening  cold. 
 Nipt  by  the  wind's  unkindly  blast, 
 
 Parch'd  by  the  sun's  directer  ray,     • 
 The  momentary  glories  waste. 
 
 The  short-lived  beauties  die  away. 
 So  blooms  the  human  face  divine 
 
 When  youth  its  pride  of  beauty  shows ; 
 Fairer  than  spring  the  colours  shine. 
 
 And  sweeter  than  the  virgin  rose. 
 Or  worn  by  slowly-rolling  years, 
 
 Or  broke  by  sickness  in  a  day. 
 The  fading  glory  disappears. 
 
 The  short-lived  beauties  die  away. 
 
 S.  Wesley. 
 BODY— Glorify  God  in  the. 
 
 Glorify  God  in  your  bodies,  for  they  are 
 His.  Beware  of  regarding  them  as  a 
 number  of  organs  and  senses  to  be  jDam- 
 pered,  or  as  stately  forms  to  be  adorned 
 and  admired.  "  What,  know  ye  not  that 
 your  bodies  are  the  temples  of  the  Holy 
 Ghost  ?"  The  Spirit  dwells  not  in  an  im- 
 pure shrine,  the  Holy  Ghost  tenants  not 
 an  unhallowed  temple.  In  your  bodies, 
 therefore,  glorify  God,  by  temperance,  so- 
 berness, chastity,  and  the  practice  of  every 
 Christian  virtue ;  by  doing  without  weari- 
 ness, and  by  suff'ering  without  murmuring ; 
 by  letting  your  hands  be  active  in  the  ser- 
 vice, and  your  feet  swift  in  the  way  of  His 
 commandments  :  thus  may  your  bodies  par- 
 ticipate and  be  used  by  the  spirits  which 
 
BODY. 
 
 tenant  them,  in  this  hallowed  service. 
 Dust  they  are,  but  they  can  bring  praise 
 to  Him  who  formed  them.  DvlU  and  tune- 
 less in  themselves,  they  can  become  glorious 
 harps  upon  which  the  music  of  a  grateful 
 piety  may  be  struck  to  heaven. 
 
 IF.  M.  Punshon. 
 BODY— Heavenly 
 
 The  bodies  of  the  elect,  after  this  life, 
 in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  shall  be  like  the 
 glorious  body  of  Christ.  So  Paul  saith, 
 "  Christ  Jesus,  our  Lord,  shall  change  our 
 vile  bodies,  that  they  may  be  like  His 
 glorious  body."  Now,  the  resemblance 
 between  Christ's  body  and  ours  standeth  in 
 these  things  :  as  Christ's  body  is  incorrup- 
 tible, so  shall  our  bodies  be  void  of  all  cor- 
 rui^tion ;  as  Christ's  body  is  immortal,  so 
 ours  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  shall  never 
 die ;  as  Christ's  body  is  spiritual,  so  shall 
 ours  be  made  spiritual,  as  the  Apostle  saith, 
 "  It  is  sown  a  natural  body,  it  is  raised  a 
 spiritual  body  ;"  not  because  the  body 
 shall  be  changed  into  a  spirit,  for  it  shall 
 remain  the  same  substance,  and  that  for 
 ever ;  but  because  it  shall  be  preserved  by 
 a  spiritual  and  divine  manner.  For  iu 
 this  life  it  is  preserved  by  meat,  drink, 
 clothing,  sleep,  physic,  rest,  and  diet ;  but 
 after,  without  all  these  means,  the  life  of 
 the  body  shall  be  continued,  and  body  and 
 soul  keep  together  by  the  immediate  power 
 of  God's  Spirit  for  ever  and  ever.  Thus 
 the  body  of  Christ  is  now  preserved  in 
 heaven,  and  so  shall  the  bodies  of  the 
 saints  be  after  the  day  of  judgment.  Fur- 
 thermore, as  Christ's  body  is  now  a  shining 
 body,  as  doth  appear  by  His  transfigura- 
 tion in  the  Mount,  so  in  all  likelihood,  after 
 the  resurrection,  the  bodies  of  the  elect 
 shall  be  shining  bright,  always  remaining 
 the  same  substance.  Lastly,  as  Christ's 
 body,  after  it  rose  again  from  the  grave, 
 had  this  property  of  agility  beside  swift- 
 ness, to  pass  from  earth  to  the  third 
 heaven,  being  in  distance  many  thousand 
 miles  from  us,  and  that  without  a  vio- 
 lence ;  so  shall  the  bodies  of  the  saints. 
 For  being  glorified  they  shall  be  able  as 
 well  to  ascend  upward,  as  to  go  downward, 
 and  to  move  without  violence,  and  that 
 very  swiftly.  W.  Perkins. 
 
 This  poor,  sinful,  perishable  body,  which 
 now  creeps  languidly  on  the  earth,  is  the 
 sport  of  every  adverse  element,  trembles 
 at  every  storm-blast,  and  faints  under  the 
 oppressive  heat  of  the  sun, — which  is  ener- 
 vated by  time,  withered  by  age,  wasted 
 by  disease,  humbled  to  dust  by  death,  and 
 becomes  meet  food  for  grave-worms, — shall 
 yet  be  "clothed  upon"  with  more  than 
 "An   angel's    floating   pomp — a   sei'aph's 
 
 floating  grace  ;" 
 Yea,  be  assimilated  to  that  "  glorious  body" 
 
 which  is  at  once  the  everlasting  wonder  and 
 light  of  heaven.  What  an  unspeakably 
 delightful  sound  do  the  words — "  We  shall 
 be  like  Him  " — carry  with  them  !  These 
 images  of  clay  raised  more  beautiful  than 
 love  ever  fancied  or  poet  ever  sang  !  This 
 brown  dust  springing  up  into  forms  infi- 
 nitely superior  to  that  on  which  Adam 
 gazed  with  mute  astonishment,  when,  for 
 the  flrst  time,  he  caught  the  image  of  him- 
 self mirrored  in  some  glassy  lake  of  Para- 
 dise !  These  sinful  forms  transformed  into 
 the  very  likeness  of  the  holy  Deity  !  Were 
 the  most  stupendous  and  poetical  transfor- 
 mations assured  realities,  were  the  coarsest 
 dust  of  the  earth  turned  into  the  brightest 
 stars  of  the  sky,  this  would  be  far  from 
 equalling  the  wonder,  the  greatness,  and 
 the  glory  of  this  mighty  change.  Well 
 might  a  devout-saint  exclaim — "Lord,  was 
 there  no  lower  pattern  than  Thyself — Thy 
 glorious  and  blessed  Self — according  to 
 which  to  form  a  worm !"  E.  Davies. 
 
 BODY— Honour  of  the. 
 
 The  Lord  did  not  hesitate  to  take  on 
 Him  man's  body;  for  He  knew  that  at  first 
 it  was  not,  and  that  in  the  end  it  will  not 
 be,  foreign  to  Him.  Can  any  honour  ex- 
 ceed the  honour  which  has  been  conferred 
 upon  the  human  body  ?  Can  any  powers 
 exceed  the  powers  ?  Can  any  glory  exceed 
 the  glory  with  which  it  is  invested  ?  What 
 wonder  that  the  Holy  Ghost  should  be- 
 seech men  to  present  their  bodies  a  living 
 sacrifice  to  God !  Know  you  not  that 
 your  bodies  are  the  members  of  Christ  ? 
 
 /.  Pulsford. 
 
 BODY— Humiliation  of  the. 
 Imperious  Cassar,  dead  and  turned  to  clay, 
 Might  stop  a  hole,  to  keep  the  wind  away : 
 0 !  that  the  earth,  which  kept  the  world 
 
 in  awe. 
 Should  patch  a  wall,  to  expel  the  Winter's 
 
 flaw !  Hhakespeare. 
 
 Death  lies  on  her,  like  an  untimely  frost 
 Upon  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  field. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 BODY— Marvellous. 
 
 See  a  blind  girl  reading  with  her  finger- 
 end,  and  say  whether  tliere  is  not  some- 
 thing Divine  still  lingering  about  the  body. 
 Think  that  the  very  skin,  the  outer  skin, 
 by  light  and  rapid  touches,  should  be  able 
 to  gather  up  the  Divine  sense  from  the 
 holy  page ;  and  that  from  the  extremity 
 of  her  finger  she  should  feel  that  Divine 
 sense  filling,  charming,  and  comforting  her 
 whole  soul  and  body.  You  have  perhaps 
 heard  the  story  of  the  blind  girl,  whose 
 hard  work  had  blunted  her  fingers,  so  that 
 she  could  no  longer  read  her  Bible.  Her 
 Bible  was  her  most  precious  companion,  her 
 
90 
 
 BODY— BOLDNESS. 
 
 dearest  friend,  and  the  voice  of  God  to  her 
 Sful :  how  could  she  lay  aside  her  Bihle  ? 
 She  took  a  pen-knife,  pared  away  the  thick 
 skin,  and  read  again;  but  now  she  could 
 not  work.  What  is  she  to  do  ?  She  must 
 work;  there  is,  therefore,  no  alternative, 
 she  must  keep  her  blunt  fingers  and  lay 
 aside  her  Bible.  In  despair  she  took  it  up, 
 soying  to  it,  "  Dearly  as  I  love  thee,  we 
 must  part,"  and  putting  it  to  her  lips,  to 
 give  it  a  farewell  kiss,  she  discovered  to 
 her  unspeakable  joy,  that  there  was  nerve 
 enough  in  her  lips  to  read  the  precious 
 Book.  There  is  a  direct  relation,  and  when 
 all  the  links  are  active,  and  the  channels 
 open,  a  living  communication  between  the 
 eternal  God  and  tlie  outermost  cuticle  of 
 the  body.  Marvellous  body  !  Marvellous 
 in  its  ruin  !  What  shall  it  be  in  its  resto- 
 ration? J.  Pulsford. 
 
 BODY— Organisation  of  the. 
 
 God  made  the  human  body,  and  it  is  by 
 far  the  most  exquisite  and  wonderful  or- 
 ganization which  has  come  to  us  from  the 
 Divine  hand.  It  is  a  study  for  one's  whole 
 life.  If  an  undevout  astronomer  is  mad,  an 
 undevout  physiologist  is  still  madder.  The 
 stomach  that  prepares  the  body's  support ; 
 the  vessels  that  distribute  the  supply  ;  the 
 arteries  that  take  up  the  food  and  send  it 
 round ;  the  lungs  tliat  aerate  the  all  nou- 
 rishing blood;  that  muscle-engine  which, 
 without  fireman  or  engineer,  stands  night 
 and  day  pumjjing  and  driving  a  wholesome 
 stream  with  vital  irrigation  through  all 
 the  system,  that  unites  and  harmonises  the 
 wht)le  band  of  organs  ;  the  brain,  that 
 dwells  in  the  dome  high  above,  like  a  true 
 royalty  ;  these,  with  their  various  and 
 ■wonderful  functions  are  not  to  be  lightly 
 spoken  of,  or  irreverently  held. 
 
 S.  W.  BeecTier. 
 
 BODY— Sanctified. 
 
 If  there  be  anything  common  to  us  by 
 nature,  it  is  the  members  of  our  corporeal 
 frame ;  yet  the  Apostle  taught  that  these, 
 guided  by  the  Spirit  as  its  instruments, 
 and  obeying  a  holy  will  become  trans- 
 figured ;  so  that,  in  his  language,  the  body 
 becomes  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
 the  meanest  faculties,  the  lowest  appetites, 
 the  humblest  organs,  are  ennobled  by  the 
 Spirit-mind  which  guides  them.  Thus  he 
 bids  the  Romans  yield  themselves  unto 
 God  as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead, 
 and  their  members  as  instruments  of  right- 
 eousness unto  God.  F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 BODY  AND  SOUL. 
 
 However  deformed,  afflicted,  mangled, 
 tortured,  imprisoned,  enslaved,  the  body 
 may  be,  it  does  not  affect  the  form,  nature, 
 and  duration  of  the  soul.  That  maintains 
 its  identity  in  the  condition  in  which  na- 
 ture or  grace  may  find  it.  John  Bate. 
 
 BODY  AND  SOUL— Connection  of. 
 
 The  body  is  more  than  a  shell,  more  than 
 a  garment,  more  than  a  house :  it  is  the 
 married,  co-operating  partner  of  the  spirit. 
 As  the  soul  is  fitted  to  be  a  habitation  of 
 God,  so  is  the  body  fitted  to  be  the  habita- 
 tion of  the  souk  The  soul  is  no  sooner 
 all'ected  by  the  presence  of  God,  than  the 
 body  also  is  aft'ected.  In  a  moment,  in  the 
 twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  body  takes  on  the 
 condition  of  the  spirit.  If  the  soul  be  in 
 distress,  the  body  also  is  in  distress  and  re- 
 fuses food,  or,  if  food  be  taken,  the  stomach 
 has  not  spirit  enough  to  digest  it.  In 
 hours  of  social  delight,  the  body  is  as  much 
 helped  and  comforted  as  the  spirit ;  all  its 
 senses  become  keen,  the  appetite  is  lively, 
 the  digestion  is  vigorous.  Every  hour  of 
 life  the  body  is  receiving  its  condition  from 
 the  spirit.  If  you  pray,  not  only  the  soul 
 but  the  body  also  receives  Divine  influence. 
 If  you  sin,  the  curse  fulfils  itself  in  your 
 soul  and  body  at  the  same  time.  The 
 blood  and  brains  of  a  meek,  humble, 
 heavenly-minded  man  carry  qualities  in  it 
 which  the  blood  and  brains  of  a  worldly- 
 minded  man  do  not.  Two  men  being 
 dead,  the  on^  a  regenerate,  and  the  other 
 an  unregenerate  man,  not  only  their  souls 
 are  in  different  conditions  and  diflterent 
 worlds,  but  their  flesh  and  bones  retain 
 the  distinctive  qualities  of  their  two  souls. 
 There  are  virtues  latent  in  all  bodies  cor- 
 responding with  the  souls  which  lived  in 
 them.  If  I  may  say  so,  Elisha  slumbers  in 
 his  bones ;  that  is,  as  the  man  was,  such 
 the  bones  are.  Joseph's  bones  do  not  be- 
 long to  Egypt.  J.  Pulsford. 
 BODY  IN  THE  GRAVE— as  Seed. 
 
 I.  Seed  in  the  ground  lies  a  time  before 
 it  springs  up  :  so  the  bodies  of  men  lie  in 
 the  grave  a  time  before  the  resurrection ; 
 some,  as  seed,  will  be  longer  than  others — 
 Adam's,  Noah's,  Abraham's,  &c. — longer 
 than  those  which  are  buried  now. 
 
 II.  Seed,  that  it  may  not  abide  alone,  is 
 first  sown  and  dies,  and  then  rises  again 
 (John  xii.  2i).  So  the  body  of  man  must 
 die,  and  be  changed,  before  it  rise  at  the 
 last  day.  As  seed  loses  nothing  by  being 
 sown  and  passing  through  its  earthly 
 changes,  but  rather  comes  forth  in  beauty 
 and  bears  fruit ;  so  the  bodies  of  the  saints 
 shall  lose  nothing  in  the  grave  that  is  good, 
 and  by  passing  through  its  grave-changes, 
 but  shall  rather  rise  a  glorious  body  and 
 reap  the  fruits  of  a  heavenly  paradise. 
 
 III.  The  body  of  the  same  seed  that  is 
 sown  rises  again  ;  so  the  same  body  that  is 
 buried  shall  rise  to  everlasting  shame  or 
 glory  (1  Cor. XV,  38;  Job  xix,  26,27). 
 
 B.KeacTi. 
 BOLDNESS— Christian. 
 
 Simeon  was  once  summoned  to  the  death- 
 bed of  a  dying  brother.    Entering  the  room. 
 
BOLDNESS  IN  DUTY. 
 
 91 
 
 the  relative  extended  his  hand,  and,  with 
 some  emotion,  said,  "  I  am  dying,  and  you 
 never  warned  me  of  the  state  in  which  1 
 was,  and  of  the  great  danger  I  was  in 
 of  neglecting  the  salvation  of  my  soul." 
 "  Nay,  my  brother,"  said  Simeon  ;  "  hut  I 
 took  every  reasonable  opportunity  of  bring- 
 ing the  subject  of  religion  before  yon,  and 
 frequently  alluded  to  it  in  my  letters." 
 "  Yes,"  said  the  dying  man ;  "  but  you 
 never  came  to  me,  closed  the  door,  and 
 took  me  by  the  collar  of  my  coat,  and  told 
 me  I  was  unconverted,  and  that  if  I  died 
 in  that  state,  I  should  be  lost ;  and  now  I 
 am  dying,  and,  but  for  the  grace  of  God,  I 
 might  have  been  for  ever  undone."  It  is 
 said  Simeon  never  forgot  this  scene. 
 
 Anon. 
 BOLDNESS  IN  DUTY. 
 
 It  is  wonderful  what  strength  of  purpose 
 and  energy  of  will  are  communicated  by 
 the  assurance  that  we  are  doing  our  duty. 
 Many  persons  constitutionally  timid,  and 
 averse  to  incurring  danger,  will  manfully 
 brave  every  opposition  in  its  discharge. 
 They  feel  confident  that  God  is  able  and 
 willing  to  protect  them,  and,  should  they 
 fall,  they  know  that  they  will  receive  their 
 reward.  Tlie  Bible,  history  sacred  and 
 profane,  and  our  own  observation,  furnish 
 many  examples  of  this  boldness  of  the 
 righteous. 
 
 Shadrach,  &c.  —  Shadrach,  Meshach, 
 and  Abednego,  when  threatened  and  asked 
 by  king  Nebuchadnezzar,  "  Is  it  true,  do 
 ye  not  serve  my  gods,  nor  worship  the 
 golden  image  which  I  have  set  up  ?" 
 replied,  "  0  Nebuchadnezzar,  we  are  not 
 careful  to  answer  thee  in  this  matter.  If 
 it  be  so  our  God  whom  we  serve  is  able  to 
 deliver  us  from  the  burning  fiery  furnace, 
 and  He  will  deliver  us  out  of  thine  hand, 
 O  king.  But  if  not,  be  it  known  unto 
 thee,  O  king,  that  we  will  not  serve  thy 
 Gods,  nor  worship  the  golden  image  which 
 thou  hast  set  up"  (Dan.  iii,  16 — 18). 
 Daniel  "kneeled  upon  his  knees  three 
 times  a  day,  and  prayed  and  gave  thanks 
 before  his  God,"  although  he  knew  that 
 for  so  doing  he  would  be  cast  into  the  den 
 of  lions  (Dan.  vi,  10.)  Wlien  Peter  and 
 John  were  "commanded  not  to  speak  at 
 all,  nor  teach  in  the  name  of  Jesus,"  they 
 answered,  "  Whether  it  be  right  in  the 
 sight  of  God  to  hearken  unto  you  more 
 than  unto  God,  judge  ye.  For  we  cannot 
 but  speak  the  things  which  we  have  seen 
 and  heard"  (Acts  iv,  18 — 20).  "I  am  ready, 
 not  to  be  bound  only,  but  also  to  die  at 
 Jerusalem  for  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  " 
 (Acts  xxi,  13),  was  the  exclamation  of  the 
 Apostle  Paul  when  entreated  by  his  friends 
 not  to  go  thither. 
 
 Caius. — In  Livy,  the  celebrated  Roman 
 historian  (Book  v,  chap.  46),  we  have  an 
 
 account  of  an  action  performed  by  a  wor- 
 shipper of  false  gods,  illustrative  of  our 
 text.  The  circumstances  under  which  it 
 was  done  were  such  as  would  have  deterred 
 any  but  those  actuated  by  a  high  sense  of 
 duty,  and  strong  feelings  of  piety.  It  was 
 when  the  Romans,  after  their  disgraceful 
 defeat  at  the  river  Allia  by  the  Gauls,  had 
 shut  themselves  up  in  their  capitol,  their 
 last  and  only  refuge;  and  lay,  to  all  apear- 
 ance,  at  the  mercy  of  their  besiegers,  who 
 prevented  all  ingress  or  egress,  and  hoped 
 to  force  them  to  surrender  by  reducing 
 them  to  the  utmost  extremities.  Among 
 the  besieged  was  a  member  of  the  Fabian 
 family,  which  had  a  stated  yearly  sacrifice 
 on  the  Quirinal  hill,  one  of  the  seven  hills 
 of  Rome.  The  time  of  its  observance 
 had  now  returned.  Nothing  daunted  by 
 the  terrors  which  surrounded  him,  Cains 
 Fabius  Dorso  took  the  sacred  utensils  in  his 
 hand,  descended  from  the  Capitol,  walking 
 through  the  midst  of  the  enemy's  sentinels, 
 and  came  to  the  hill  selected  for  the  pur- 
 pose. Having  there  solemnly  gone  through 
 all  his  religious  exercises  he  returned  to 
 the  Capitol.  Neither  in  his  countenance 
 nor  in  his  manner  of  walking  did  he  betray 
 the  slightest  fear.  He  hoped  that  the  gods, 
 whose  worship  not  even  the  fear  of  death 
 could  make  him  neglect,  would  be  pro- 
 pitious to  him,  and  in  this  he  was  not  dis- 
 appointed. For  the  Gauls,  either  amazed 
 at  his  extraordinary  boldness,  or  respecting 
 his  religious  ceremonies,  allowed  him  to  go 
 and  return  unmolested. 
 
 LiTTHEE. — Luther  was  a  remarkable 
 instance  of  the  boldness  of  the  righteous. 
 Single-handed,  we  may  say,  he  fought 
 against  popes,  and  kings,  and  cardinals, 
 and  a  host  of  inferior,  but  not  less  danger- 
 ous enemies.  Oftentimes  he  was  left  alone, 
 unsupported  by  his  most  intimate  friends. 
 Still  he  remained  unshaken.  "Ah,"  said 
 some  to  him  when  on  his  way  to  Worms, 
 "there  are  so  many  cardinals  and  bishops, 
 at  Worms !  .  .  .  They  will  burn  you,  they 
 will  consume  your  body  to  ashes  as  they 
 did  that  of  John  Huss."  But  nothing 
 daunted  the  monk.  "  Although  they 
 should  make  a  fire  that  should  reach  from 
 Worms  to  Wittemberg,  and  that  should 
 flame  up  to  heaven,  in  the  Lord's  name  I 
 would  pass  through  it,  I  would  appear 
 before  them ;  I  would  enter  between  the 
 jaws  of  this  Behemoth  ;  I  would  break  his 
 teeth,  and  would  confess  the  Lord  Jesus 
 Christ."  At  a  subsequent  period  of  his 
 journey,  his  friend  Spalatin  sent  a  mes- 
 senger to  him  to  say  "  that  he  must  not 
 think  of  entering  Worms !"  The  im- 
 perturbable Luther  looked  steadily  at  the 
 messenger,  and  replied,  "  Go  tell  your 
 master  that  even  although  there  were  as 
 many  devils  at  Worms  as  there  are  tiles 
 
BOLDNESS— boos:. 
 
 upon  the  roofs,  I  would  enter  It."  .  ..."  I 
 was  then  a  fearless  man,"  said  Luther,  a 
 few  days  before  his  death ;  "  I  dreaded 
 nothing.  God  can  inspire  a  man  v/ith  so 
 much  dai-ing.  I  know  not  if  at  present  I 
 should  have  so  much  freedom  and  joy." 
 "  When  the  cause  is  good,"  adds  his  dis- 
 ciple Mathesius,  "the  heart  is  enlarged, 
 and  gives  courage  and  energy  to  evan- 
 gelists and  soldiers." 
 
 Howard. — Tn  later  times  we  have 
 almost  innumerable  examples.  Take  the 
 case  of  John  Howard.  "Talk  not  of 
 generals  leading  their  troops  to  battle  as 
 an  evidence  of  bravery.  What  is  this  to 
 tlie  calm  collected  determination  that  led 
 Howard  to  explore  the  noisome  dungeon, 
 to  visit  the  crowded  hospital,  to  be  im- 
 mured in  the  loathsome  lazaretto,  and  to 
 dwell  in  the  habitations  of  pestilence  ?  In 
 other  ^\  ays  his  bravery  was  shown.  When 
 a  mutiny  prevailed  at  Savoy,  the  prisoners 
 had  killed  two  of  their  keepers,  and  no  one 
 dared  to  approach  them  until  the  intrepid 
 Howard  insisted  on  entering  their  prison. 
 In  vain  his  friends,  in  vain  thejailers  tried 
 to  dissuade  him,  in  he  went  among  two 
 hundred  ruffians,  where,  such  was  the 
 effect  of  his  mild  and  benign  manner,  that 
 they  soon  listened  to  his  remonstrances, 
 represented  their  grievances,  and  at  last 
 allowed  themselves  to  be  reconducted  to 
 their  cells." 
 
 Williams. — Consider  now  .Tohn  Wil- 
 liams, the  celebrated  missionary  to  the 
 islands  of  the  Pacific  Polynesia.  With  his 
 "  Messenger  of  Peace  "  he  visited  those 
 lovely  islands,  at  that  time  inhabited  by  a 
 race  of  savages.  In  one  of  these  voyages 
 he  and  his  infant  child  almost  found  a 
 watery  grave.  Still  he  persevered.  "  Fear 
 seems  to  have  been  a  stranger  to  his  in- 
 trepid spirit.  Strong  in  the  strength  of 
 the  Lord  Jesus,  he  was  led  to  do  all,  and 
 dare  all,  in  the  sacred  work  he  had  under- 
 taken." He  fell  at  last  a  martyr  to  his 
 zeal  and  boldness.  "Full  of  his  usual 
 energy,  he  landed  on  the  fatal  shores  of 
 Erromanga,  accompanied  by  his  friend  Mr. 
 Harris.  From  the  deck  of  the  missionary 
 ship  which  lay  in  the  offing,  a  frightful 
 scene  was  witnessed.  The  infuriated 
 natives  rushed  upon  their  benefactor,  pur- 
 sued him  "with  their  murderous  spears  into 
 the  water,  and  put  a  violent  end  to  that 
 life  which  had  been  passed  in  works  of 
 faith,  and  labours  of  love."  We  conclude 
 by  citing  the  language  of  the  Psalmist  in 
 time  of  danger,  "  I  laid  me  down  and  slept : 
 I  awaked;  for  the  Lord  sustained  me.  I 
 will  not  be  afraid  of  ten  thousands  of 
 people  that  have  set  themselves  against  me 
 round  about "  (Ps.  iii,  5,  6).  "  The  Lord 
 is  my  light  and  my  salvation  j  whom  shall 
 
 I  fear  ?  the  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my 
 life  j  of  whom  shall  I  he  afraid  ?  Though 
 an  host  should  encamp  against  me,  my 
 heart  shall  not  fear;  though  war  should 
 rise  against  me,  in  this  I  will  be  confident" 
 (Ps.  xxvii,  1 — 3).  Let  us  then  always  go 
 boldly  on  in  the  discharge  of  our  duty, 
 not  having  the  fear  of  man  which  bringeth 
 a  snare,  but  putting  our  trust  in  God; 
 "for  in  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  everlasting 
 strength"  (Is.  xxvi,  4).  Anon. 
 
 BOLDNESS— Examples  of. 
 
 Abra7iam{Gen.  xviii,  22-32) ;  Jacoh  (Gen. 
 xxxii,  24-29) ;  Moses  (Exod.  xxxii.  31,  32 ; 
 xxxiii,  18);  Aaron  (Num.  xvi,  47,  48); 
 David  (1  Sam.  xvii,  45)  ;  Elijah  (1  Kings 
 xviii,  15,  18);  Nehemiah  (Neh.  vi,  11); 
 Shadrach  (Dan.  iii,  17,  18) ;  Baniel  (Dan. 
 vi,  10)  ;  Joseph  (Mark  xv,  43) ;  Peter  and 
 John  (Acts  iv,  8-13);  Stephen  (Acts  vii,  51); 
 Paul  (Acts  xi,  27,  29  :  xix,  8)  ;  Barnabas 
 (Acts  xiv,  3) ;  Apollos  (Acts  xviii,  26). 
 
 Anon. 
 BOLDNESS  IN  GOD. 
 
 Satan,  I  confess,  rageth ;  but  potent  is 
 He  that  promised  to  be  with  us,  in  all  such 
 enterprises  as  we  take  in  hand  at  His  com- 
 mandment, for  the  glory  of  His  name,  and 
 for  the  maintenance  of  His  true  religion.- 
 And,  therefore,  the  less  fear  we  any  con- 
 trary power;  yea,  in  the  boldness  of  our 
 God,  we  altogether  contemn  them,  be  they 
 kings,  emperors,  men,  angels,  or  devils. 
 For  they  shall  never  be  able  to  prevail 
 against  the  simple  truth  of  God  which  we 
 openly  profess ;  by  the  permission  of  God 
 they  may  appear  to  prevail  against  our 
 bodies;  but  our  cause  shall  triumph  in 
 desj^ite  of  Satan.  John  Knox. 
 
 BOLDNESS— Ministerial. 
 
 A  minister,  without  boldness,  is  like  a 
 smooth  file,  a  knife  without  an  edge,  a  sen- 
 tinel that  is  afraid  to  let  off  his  gun.  If 
 men  will  be  bold  in  sin,  ministers  must  be 
 hold  to  reprove.  Gurnall. 
 
 BOOK — Authenticity  and  Genuineness  of  a. 
 We  should  distinctly  observe  the  difte- 
 rence  between  the  genuineness  and  the 
 authenticity  of  a  book.  A  genuine  book 
 is  that  which  was  written  by  the  person 
 whose  name  it  bears  as  the  author  of  it; 
 an  authentic  book  is  that  which  relates 
 matters  of  fact  as  they  really  happened. 
 A  book  may  be  genuine  without  being 
 authentic,  and  authentic  without  being 
 genuine :  for  instance,  the  books  written 
 by  Eichardson  and  Fielding  are  genuine 
 books,  though  the  histories  of  Clarissa  and 
 Tom  Jones  are  fables,  and  so  they  ai-e  not  au- 
 thentic; on  the  contrary,  Anson's  voyage 
 is  an  authentic  book,  as  it  contains  a  true 
 narrative,  but  it  is  not  genuine,  for  it  was 
 
BOOK— BOOKS. 
 
 not  written  by  Walters,  to  whom   it  is 
 ascribed,  but  by  Mr.  Robins.    B^.  Watson. 
 
 BOOK— First  English. 
 
 The  first  book  printed  in  English  (about 
 the  year  1490)  was  a  translation.  Caxton 
 was  both  the  translator  and  printer  of  it. 
 It  was  '  The  Destruction  of  Troye ' ;  a  book 
 which,  in  that  infancy  of  learning,  was  con- 
 sidered as  the  best  account  of  the  fabulous 
 ages.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 BOOK — Importance  of  a. 
 
 Among  the  varied  external  influences 
 amidst  which  the  human  race  is  developed, 
 a  book  is  incomparably  the  most  important, 
 and  the  only  one  that  is  absolutely  essential. 
 Upon  it  the  collective  education  of  the  race 
 depends.  It  is  the  sole  instrument  of  regis- 
 tering, perpetuating,  transmitting  thought. 
 S.  Rogers. 
 BOOK— Use  of  a. 
 
 We  should  make  the  same  use  of  a  book 
 that  the  bee  does  of  a  flower ;  she  steals 
 sweets  from  il,  \)ut  does  not  injure  it. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 
 BOOK— WonderMness  of  a. 
 
 Consider !  except  a  living  man,  there  is 
 nothing  more  wonderful  tban  a  book !  a 
 message  to  us  from  the  dead ;  from  human 
 souls  whom  we  never  saw,  who  lived  per- 
 haps thousands  of  miles  away  j  and  yet 
 these,  in  those  little  sheets  of  paper,  speak 
 to  us,  amuse  us,  terrify  us,  teach  us,  com- 
 fort us,  open  their  hearts  to  us  as  brothers. 
 C.  Kingsley. 
 BOOK  (Bad)— Influence  of  a. 
 
 About  twenty-five  years  ago,  I  formed  a 
 most  intimate  acquaintance  with  a  young 
 man  of  fine  education  and  commanding 
 talents,  and  we  soon  became  bosom  friends. 
 One  morning  after  school,  at  a  street  corner, 
 he  handed  me  a  book  which  he  said  he  could 
 lend  to  me  for  only  one  quarter  of  an  hour. 
 We  stood  at  that  corner  a  few  moments, 
 while  I  looked  at  the  obscene  pictures,  and 
 read  a  few  pages  in  that  polluting  volume. 
 I  handed  it  back  to  him  and  never  saw  it 
 again  ;  but  the  poison  took  eff"ect,  "  the  sin 
 left  its  mark."  I  cannot  erase  the  ettects 
 of  the  impure  thoughts  which  in  that  quar- 
 ter of  an  hour  that  vile  book  lodged  in  my 
 heart,  and  which,  may  God  forgive  me,  I 
 harboured  there.  I  can  and  do  pray  against 
 the  sin,  and  for  God's  grace  yet  to  conquer 
 it ;  but  it  is  a  thorn  in  my  flesh,  and  still 
 causes  me  great  bitterness  and  anguish. 
 
 Young  men,  as  a  lover  of  your  souls,  I 
 tell  you  in  all  sincerity  that  there  is  nothing 
 which  I  would  not  willingly  give  to  have 
 the  veil  of  oblivion  cast  over  the  scenes  and 
 the  sentiments  of  that  corrupt  volume, 
 which  still  haunt  me  like  foul  spectres 
 during  my  hours  of  private  devotion,  in 
 
 the  sanctuary,  and  at  the  communion  table. 
 Oh,  what  sad  work  did  that  quarter  of  an 
 hour  make  upon  a  human  soul.  Young 
 man,  betvare  of  bad  books,  and  beware  also 
 of  evil  companions. 
 
 My  early  friend,  after  well-nigh  accom- 
 plishing my  ruin,  became  a  dissolute  man, 
 imbibed  evil  sentiments,  and  at  last,  as  I 
 greatly  fear,  died  by  his  own  hand.  "  Let 
 him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take  heed 
 lest  he  fall."  Anon. 
 
 BOOK  (Good)— Value  of  a. 
 
 As  good  almost  kill  a  man  as  kill  a  good 
 book;  who  kills  a  man  kills  a  reasonable 
 creature — God's  image ;  but  he  who  de- 
 stroys a  good  book  kills  reason  itself — kills 
 the  image  of  God,  as  it  were,  in  the  eye. 
 Many  a  man  lives  a  burden  to  the  earth  ; 
 but  a  good  book  is  the  precious  life-blood 
 of  a  master-spirit,  embalmed  and  treasured 
 up  on  purpose  to  a  life  beyond  life.  'Tis 
 true  no  age  can  restore  a  life  whereof,  per- 
 haps, there  is  no  great  loss ;  the  revolutions 
 of  ages  do  not  often  recover  the  loss  of  a 
 rejected  truth,  for  the  want  of  which  whole 
 nations  fare  the  worse.  Milton. 
 
 BOOKS— Common  of. 
 
 How  large  a  portion  of  the  matei'ial  that 
 books  are  made  of,  is  destitute  of  any 
 peculiar  distinction.  "  It  has,"  as  Pope 
 said  of  women,  just  "  no  character  at  all." 
 An  accumulation  of  sentences  and  pages  of 
 vulgar  truisms  and  candle-light  sense,  which 
 any  one  was  competent  to  write,  and  which 
 no  one  is  interested  in  reading,  or  cares  to 
 remember,  or  could  remember  if  he  cared. 
 This  is  the  common  of  literature — of  space 
 wide  enough,  of  indifterent  production,  and 
 open  to  all.  The  pages  of  some  authors,  on 
 the  contrary,  give  one  the  idea  of  enclosed 
 gardens  and  orchards,  and  one  says,  "  Ha ! 
 that  is  the  man's  own."  J.  Foster. 
 
 BOOKS— Company  of. 
 
 I  go  into  my  library,  and,  like  some  great 
 panorama,  all  history  unrolls  before  me.  I 
 breathe  the  morning  air  of  the  world,  while 
 the  scent  of  Eden's  roses  yet  linger  in  it, 
 when  it  was  thickened  only  by  the  sigh  of 
 Eve.  I  see  the  pyramids  building ;  1  hear 
 Memnon  murmur,  as  the  first  morning  sun 
 touches  him ;  I  see  the  Sphinx  when  she 
 first  began  to  ask  her  eternal  question.  I 
 sit  as  iu  a  theatre;  the  stage  is  time,  the 
 play  is  the  play  of  the  world.  What  a  spec- 
 tacle it  is !  what  kingly  pomp,  what  pro- 
 cessions pass  by,  what  cities  burn  to  heaven, 
 what  ci-owds  of  captives  are  dragged  at 
 the  wheels  of  conquerors!  I  hiss  or  cry 
 "  bravo"  when  the  great  actors  come  on 
 shaking  the  stage.  In  my  solitude  I  am 
 only  myself  at  intervals.  I  am  a  Roman 
 emperor  when  I  look  at  a  Roman  coin.  I 
 lift  Homer,  and  I  shout  with  Achilles  in 
 
BOOKS. 
 
 the  trenches.  The  silence  of  the  unpeopled 
 Syrian  plains,  the  outcomings  and  outgoings 
 of  the  patriarchs,  Abraham  and  Ishmael, 
 Isaac  in  the  fields  at  eventide,  Rebekah  at 
 the  well,  Jacob's  guile,  Esau's  face  reddened 
 by  desert  sun-heat,  Joseph's  splendid  funeral 
 procession, — all  these  things  I  can  find  with- 
 in the  boards  of  my  Old  Testament.  What 
 a  silence  in  these  old  books,  what  green  pas- 
 toral rest,  and  yet  what  indubitable  human 
 existence.  Across  the  brawling  centuries 
 of  blood  and  war  that  lie  between,  I  can 
 hear  the  bleating  of  Abraham's  sheep,  the 
 tinkling  of  the  bells  of  Rebekah's  camels. 
 O  men  and  women,  so  far  separated  yet  so 
 near,  so  strange  yet  so  well-known,  by  what 
 miraculous  power  do  I  know  you  all !  Books 
 are  the  true  Elysian  fields  where  the  spirits 
 of  the  dead  converse,  couched  on  flowers, 
 and  to  these  fields  a  mortal  may  venture 
 unappalled.  What  king's  court  can  boast 
 such  company  ?  What  school  of  philosophy 
 such  wisdom  ?  All  the  wit  of  all  the  world 
 is  glancing  and  flashing  there.  There  is 
 Pan's  pipe,  there  are  the  songs  of  Apollo. 
 Sitting  in  my  library  at  night,  and  looking 
 on  the  silent  faces  of  my  books,  I  am  occa- 
 sionally visited  by  a  strange  sense  of  the 
 supernatural.  They  are  not  collections  of 
 printed  pages,  they  are  ghosts.  I  take  one 
 down,  and  it  immediately  speaks  with  me, 
 it  may  be  in  a  tongue  not  now  heard  on 
 earth  ;  it  may  be  of  men  and  things  of 
 which  it  alone  possesses  knowledge.  I  call 
 myself  a  solitary,  but  sometimes  I  think  I 
 misapply  the  term.  No  man  sees  more 
 company  than  I  do.  I  travel  with  mightier 
 cohorts  around  me  than  ever  did  Tamerlane 
 or  Genghis  Khan  on  their  fiery  marches.  I 
 am  a  sovereign  in  my  library,  but  it  is  the 
 dead  not  the  living  that  attend  my  levees. 
 ^neas  Sage. 
 
 There  you  may  walk  and  talk  with  the 
 kings  and  queens  of  thought  on  a  perfect 
 equality.  They  do  not  ask  you  how  much 
 money  you  possess,  what  was  the  cost  of 
 your  clothing,  or  what  is  the  size  of  the 
 house  you  dwell  in.  They  only  want  you 
 to  bring  an  understanding  heart,  seeing 
 eye,  and  listening  ear,  and  they  will  make 
 you  perfectly  at  home,  giving  you  a  royal 
 welcome  there.  At  home  with  David  the 
 king,  sitting  on  his  throne  in  his  gorgeous 
 palace,  who  can  say  the  very  things  you 
 want  to  hear,  because  he  was  once  a  shep- 
 herd-boy, and  saw  and  felt  what  poor  men 
 still  see  and  feel.  At  home  with  Solomon 
 in  that  magnificent  Temple,  like  some  vast 
 shape  of  beauty,  taking  life  in  music,  and 
 all  aglow  with  precious  stones,  metals,  and 
 colours,  for  the  glory  of  God!  At  home 
 with  Milton,  as  he  sits  telling  the  marvels 
 that  he  sees,  since  God  had  closed  his  outer 
 sight.  At  home  with  Shakespeare,  in  whose 
 mind  we  may  see,  as  in  some  magic  crystal, 
 
 the  many-moving  forms  of  mirrored  hu- 
 manity! At  home  with  Newton  —  the 
 Shakespeare  of  astronomy  —  ranging  the 
 starry  spaces  at  will,  and  reading  the  laws 
 of  the  Creator  for  us.  At  home  with  Hugh 
 Miller,  piercing  the  mysteries  under  our 
 feet,  as  Newton  revealed  them  overhead ! 
 
 JEneas  Sage. 
 BOOKS— Company  of. 
 
 They  are  immortal;  they  cannot  die;  they 
 are  all  soul ;  reason  without  passion,  and 
 eloquence  without  noise  or  clamour.  In- 
 deed, they  do  not  eat  and  drink,  by  which 
 only  argument  some  men  prove  themselves 
 to  be  alive,  as  Cyrus  proved  the  divinity  oi 
 his  god  Bel.  But  these  are  kept  without 
 cost,  and  yet  retain  the  same  countenance, 
 and  are  always  cheerful  and  diverting.  Be- 
 sides, they  have  this  peculiar  quality,  that 
 a  man  may  have  their  company  or  lay  them 
 aside  at  pleasure,  without  oflence. 
 
 Dr.  Goodman. 
 BOOKS— Devouring. 
 
 It  is  recorded  of  Madame  de  Stael  Hol- 
 stein,  that  before  she  was  fifteen  years  of 
 age  she  had  "  devoured"  600  novels  in 
 three  months,  so  that  she  must  have  read 
 more  than  six  a-day  upon  an  average. 
 Louis  XVI,  during  the  five  months  and 
 seven  days  of  his  imprisonment  immediately 
 preceding  his  death,  read  157  volumes,  or 
 one  a  day.  If  this  sjjecies  of  gluttony  is 
 pardonable  in  circumstances  like  those  of 
 Louis,  it  is  less  so  in  those  of  a  young  lady 
 of  fourteen  or  fifteen.  No  one  can  have 
 time  for  reflection  who  reads  at  this  rapid 
 rate ;  and,  whatever  may  be  thought,  these 
 devourers  of  books  are  guilty  of  abusing 
 nature  to  an  extent  as  much  greater  than 
 those  who  overcharge  their  stomachs,  as 
 the  intellectual  powers  are  higher  than  the 
 animal  propensities.  Thousands  of  young 
 people  spend  their  time  in  perpetual  read- 
 ing, or  rather  in  devouring  books.  It  is 
 true,  the  food  is  light ;  but  it  occupies  the 
 mental  faculties  for  the  time  in  fruitless 
 eff'orts,  and  operates  to  exclude  food  of  a 
 better  quality.  Anon. 
 
 BOOKS— Necessity  for. 
 
 Without  books,  God  is  silent,  justice 
 dormant,  natural  science  at  a  stand,  philo- 
 sophy lame,  letters  dumb,  and  all  things 
 involved  in  Cimmerian  darkness. 
 
 Bartholin. 
 BOOKS— Quintessence  of. 
 
 Were  all  hooks  reduced  to  their  quint- 
 essence, many  a  bulky  author  would  make 
 his  appearance  in  a  penny  pamphlet,  and 
 there  would  be  scarce  any  such  thing  as  a 
 folio :  the  works  of  an  age  would  be  con- 
 tained on  a  few  shelves,  not  to  mention 
 millions  of  volumes  that  would  be  utteily 
 destroyed.  Addison. 
 
BOOKS— BEOTZESHOOD. 
 
 95 
 
 BOOKS— The  Three. 
 
 The  'Bible,'  'Shakspeare/and  'Pilgrim's 
 Progress,'  are  the  three  books  most  read  and 
 most  felt  in  the  English  language,  and  there 
 seems  as  little  likelihood  that  the  last  two 
 will  go  out  of  print  as  the  first  and  greatest. 
 Perhaps  there  are  no  three  books  in  the 
 language  so  little  understood,  or  so  inade- 
 quately appreciated ;  no  three  about  which 
 there  are  such  varieties  of  opinion,  and  such 
 conflicting  interpretations.  And  yet  each 
 originally  and  intrinsically  is  really  simple, 
 comprehensive,  natural,  and  addressed  to 
 the  common  human  understanding,  and  the 
 universal  heart  of  mankind.  A  noted  Eng- 
 lish critic  has  said,  there  are  not  three  other 
 books  in  the  world  to  compare  with  this  im- 
 mortal triad.  K.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 BOOKS— Three  Useful. 
 
 God  hath  left  three  books  in  the  world, 
 in  each  of  which  He  may  easily  be  found  : 
 the  book  of  the  creatures,  the  book  of  con- 
 science, and  His  written  word.  The  first 
 shows  His  omnipotence;  the  second.  His 
 justice ;  the  third,  His  mercy  and  good- 
 ness. In  these  are  all  that  good,  that  ever 
 either  the  heathen,  or  the  Christian,  hath 
 published  abroad.  In  the  first  is  all  natural 
 philosophy;  in  the  second,  all  moral  phi- 
 losophy ;  in  the  third,  aU  true  divinity. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 BOOKS— Titles  of. 
 
 There  is  a  kind  of  physiognomy  in  the 
 titles  of  books  no  less  than  in  the  faces  of 
 men,  by  which  a  skilful  observer  will  as 
 well  know  what  to  expect  from  the  one  as 
 the  other.  S.  Butler. 
 
 BOOKS  (Good)— Influence  of. 
 
 It  is  recorded  that  Bunny's '  Resolution ' 
 roused  Richard  Baxter  to  concern,  and 
 Sibbes'  'Bruised  Reed'  led  him  to  the 
 Saviour.  Baxter  then  wrote  the  '  Call  to 
 the  Unconverted,'  which  was  blessed  to 
 Philip  Doddridge,  who  afterwards  wrote 
 the  '  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the 
 Soul.'  This  book  gave  the  first  religious 
 impressions  to  William  Wilberforce,  then 
 M.P.  for  the  county  of  York,  who  pro- 
 duced the  '  Practical  View  of  Christianity,' 
 which  was  blessed  to  Lady  Colquhoun, 
 whose  Christian  efforts  are  recorded  in  her 
 biography  by  Rev.  Dr.  Hamilton ;  it  was 
 also  blessed  to  the  Rev.  Leigh  Richmond, 
 who  in  his  turn  wrote  the  '  Dairyman's 
 Daughter,'  and  '  Young  Cottager,'  which 
 have  been  the  means  of  saving  many  souls. 
 The  '  Practical  View '  was  further  instru- 
 mental in  bringing  Thomas  Chalmers  to 
 the  knowledge  of  the  truth  ;  and  who  can 
 estimate  the  effects  of  his  eloquence  and 
 the  worth  of  his  books  ?  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 BOOKS  (Good)— Use  of. 
 
 And  in  good  sooth  it  may  well  be  said, 
 that  unto  true  Christians,  good  and  holy 
 books  are  as  ladders  to  climb  up  to  heaven, 
 as  sparks  to  kindle  the  heat  of  the  Spirit, 
 when  it  is  quenched  or  waxed  cold  in  them, 
 and  as  props  to  stay  up  their  faith,  that  it 
 may  increase.  Anon. 
 
 BOSOM-SIN-One. 
 
 One  bosom-sin,  determinately  retained, 
 will  harden  the  heart,  stupify  the  con- 
 science, darken  the  mind,  and  damn  the 
 man  !  It  will  resist  and  overcome  inward 
 monitions ;  it  will  frustrate  and  render 
 nugatory  all  influences  from  without. 
 "  Herod  feared  John  because  he  was  a 
 good  and  a  holy  man."  He  heard  hira 
 and  was  touched ;  "  he  heard  him  often 
 and  heard  him  gladly,"  and  "  did  many 
 things  "  in  consequence ;  but  there  was  one 
 thing  he  tcotild  not  do; — he  would  not  put 
 away  Herodias.  And  she — his  bosom-sin 
 personified  and  embodied — led  him  at  least 
 to  send  an  executioner  to  behead  John  in 
 prison.  T.  Binnei/. 
 
 BOSOM-SINS— Deception  of. 
 
 Persons  afilicted  with  cancer,  or  similar 
 complaints,  are  not  themselves  sensible  of 
 the  loathsomeness  and  oftensiveness  of  their 
 disease ;  it  is  to  them  endurable,  though 
 it  is  eating  into  their  vitals;  whereas 
 others  can  hardly  be  in  their  neighbourhood 
 without  a  sensation  of  nausea.  And  bosom 
 sins  have  a  similar  property  of  inoffen- 
 siveness  to  their  possessor — to  the  very 
 person  in  whose  nature  they  are  a  great 
 gangrene.  The  man  cannot,  except  by 
 special  grace,  stand  apart  from  himself, 
 and  judge  his  bosom-sin  as  he  would  judge 
 it  in  another.  Dr.  E.  M.  Ooulbiirn. 
 
 BROTHERI-IOOD— Christian. 
 
 But  there  is,  and  must  be,  brotherhood 
 in  the  body  of  Christ.  There  only  it  glows 
 with  brightness  and  flows  forth  with  affec- 
 tion. In  one  Saviour,  who  died  for  men  of 
 every  nation,  colour,  rank,  and  class,  it  has 
 its  centre  ;  and  in  one  Spirit,  who  pervades 
 them  all,  it  has  its  strong  emotion.  Covet 
 earnestly  this  gift.  Christ  was  not  ashamed 
 to  call  you  brethren.  The  God-Man  walked 
 through  a  world  of  sin  and  in  the  likeness 
 of  sinful  flesh,  restoring  nature  to  its  har- 
 mony by  His  miracles  of  love,  and  man  to 
 his  God  by  His  bloody  cross,  and  man  to 
 man  by  His  life  of  labour  and  death  of 
 substitution.  That  was  a  Brother  !  Then 
 be  ye  brotherly.  Seek  to  make  a  brother 
 of  every  man.  Bid  him  return  to  your 
 Father  and  his  Father,  to  your  God  and 
 his  God,  to  your  Brother  and  his  Brother. 
 Bid  him  come  home  with  you.  Show  him 
 the  brotherhood  which  reigns  among  the 
 
BUSINESS— BUSY-BODIES. 
 
 members  of  Clirist's  body,  and  welcome 
 liim  to  its  fellowship  and  joy.  Be  not 
 distant  to  your  own  flesh  and  blood.  Be 
 like  those  whose  philanthropy  we  have 
 sketched  in  the  preceding  pages  —  like 
 Cranfield  among  tailors.  Pounds  among 
 cobblers,  Page  among  joiners.  Miller  among 
 copperplate  printers.  Reeves  among  coach- 
 builders,  Dober  among  potters,  Paterson 
 among  ploughmen,  Sarah  Martin  among 
 dressmakers,  Elizabeth  Gow  among  do- 
 mestic servants,  and  Harriet  Stoneman 
 among  the  suffering  poor.  Or  if  your 
 station  be  higher,  be  such  a  brother  as 
 Last  among  farmers,  Moggridge  among 
 literateurs.  Vicars  in  the  camp,  Gardiner 
 in  the  ship,  Mackenzie  in  the  college, 
 Kelly  at  the  counter,  Thorneycroft  at  the 
 forge,  Golding  Bird  in  the  hospital,  Per- 
 thes among  publishers,  Townley  among 
 lawyers,  Budgett  among  merchants,  Ade- 
 laide Newton  in  the  sick-chamber,  and 
 Elizabeth  Fry  in  the  prison.  Or  if  you 
 possess  higher  rank,  show  such  brother- 
 hood as  did  Haldane  and  Wilberforce,  Sir 
 Edward  Parry,  Sir  Andrew  Agnew,  and 
 Lord  Teignmouth  ;  as  did  Madame  Guyon, 
 Lady  Colquhoun,  and  the  Countess  of 
 Huntingdon.  Almost  all  of  these  were 
 recently  in  our  midst,  working  for  Christ 
 in  doing  good  to  souls.  They  coveted 
 earnestly  the  best  gifts,  and  in  their  useful 
 labour  show  with  what  success.  These 
 were  brothers  and  sisters  of  our  sufi'ering 
 humanity.  M.  :Steel. 
 
 BUSINESS— Christian  in. 
 
 The  Christian  must  not  only  mind 
 heaven,  but  attend  to  his  daily  calling. 
 Like  the  pilot,  who  while  his  eye  is  fixed 
 upon  the  star,  keeps  his  hand  upon  the 
 helm.  T.  Watson. 
 
 Diligence  in  business  should  not  hinder 
 fervency  in  spirit.  Like  the  pure  mettled 
 sword,  that  can  bend  this  way  and  that 
 way,  and  turn  to  its  straightness  again, 
 and  stands  not  bent,  that  heart  is  of  the 
 right  make  that  can  stoop  and  bend  to  the 
 lowest  action  of  its  worldly  calling,  but 
 then  return  to  its  fitness  for  communion 
 with  God.  Gurnall. 
 
 BUSINESS— Failure  in. 
 
 A  merchant  some  few  years  ago  failed  in 
 business,  he  went  home  in  great  agitation. 
 "  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  his  wife. 
 "  I  am  ruined ;  I  am  beggared !  I  have 
 lost  my  all  \"  he  exclaimed,  pressing  his 
 hand  upon  his  forehead. 
 
 "  All !"  said  his  wife.  "  No  ;  I  am  left." 
 "  All,  papa,"  said  his  eldest  boy,  "  here  am 
 I."  "  And  I  too,"  said  his  little  girl,  run- 
 ning up  and  putting  her  arms  round  his 
 neck.  '•  Pm  not  lost,  papa,"  repeated 
 Eddie.     "And  you  have  your  health  left," 
 
 said  his  wife.  "  And  your  hands  to  work 
 with,"  said  his  eldest :  "  and  I  can  help 
 you."  "  And  your  two  feet,  papa,  to  carry 
 you  about,  and  your  two  eyes  to  see  with, 
 papa,"  said  little  Eddie.  "  And  you  have 
 God's  promises,"  said  the  grandmother. 
 "  And  a  good  God,"  said  his  wife.  "  And 
 heaven  to  go  to,"  said  his  little  girl.  "  And 
 Jesus  who  came  to  fetch  us  there,"  said 
 his  eldest. 
 
 "  God  forgive  me !"  said  the  poor  mer- 
 chant, bursting  into  tears ;  "  I  have  not 
 lost  my  all.  What  have  I  lost  to  what  I 
 have  left  \"  And  took  comfort,  and  began 
 the  world  afresh.  Cameron. 
 
 BUSINESS— Eeligion  in. 
 
 It  was  a  beautiful  truth  which  our  fore- 
 fathers have  symbolised,  when,  in  most  of 
 our  old  market-towns,  they  have  erected  a 
 market-cross,  as  if  to  teach  the  buyers  and 
 sellers  to  rule  in  their  actions,  and  sanctify 
 their  gains,  by  the  remembrance  of  the 
 Cross.  The  Israelites  were  taught  the 
 same  in  their  encampment :  every  part  of 
 the  camp  looked  toward  the  tabernacle. 
 So  the  Chinese,  though  in  superstition 
 and  ignorance,  set  up  their  idols  in  their 
 shops. 
 
 '•  Prayer  and  provender  hinder  no  man's 
 journey.  There  is  no  time  lost  in  sharpen- 
 ing the  scythe."  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 BUSY-BODIES— Description  of. 
 
 There  are  some  whose  restless,  insinuat- 
 ing, searching  humour  will  never  suff'er 
 them  to  be  quiet,  unless  they  dive  into  the 
 concerns  of  all  about  them ;  they  are  al- 
 ways outward  bound,  but  homeward  never ; 
 they  are  perpetually  looking  about  them, 
 but  never  within  them  ;  they  can  hardly 
 relish  or  digest  what  they  eat  at  their  own 
 table,  unless  they  know  what,  and  how 
 much,  is  served  up  to  another  man's ;  they 
 cannot  sleep  quietly  themselves  unless  they 
 know  when  their  neighbour  rises  and  goes 
 to  bed ;  they  must  know  who  visits  him, 
 and  who  is  visited  by  him ;  what  company 
 he  keeps ;  what  revenues  he  has,  and  what 
 he  spends;  how  much  he  owes,  and  how 
 much  is  owed  to  him.  Br.  South. 
 
 BUSY-BODIES— Female. 
 
 But  never  more  than  once 
 Let  me  repeat  it,  never  let  the  wise 
 Give  females  licence  to  fi-equent  his  house, 
 And  hold  free  converse  with  his  wife ;  for 
 
 these 
 To  ill  are  shrewd  instructors  :  through  the 
 
 hope 
 Of  sordid  lucre  one  corrupts  his  wife ; 
 One,  who  hath   fallen   from   virtue,   like 
 
 herself 
 Wishes  to  make  her  vile ;  and  many  urge. 
 Through  wanton  frowardness,  their  pleas 
 
 to  ill: 
 
BUSY-BODIES— CALUMNY. 
 
 97 
 
 Hence  the  pure  fountain  of  domestic  bliss 
 The  husband  finds  polluted  :  these  against 
 Let  him  guard  well  his  gates  with  locks 
 
 and  bolts ; 
 For  nothing  good  these  female  visitants 
 Work  by  their  converse,  but  abundant  ill. 
 Euripides. 
 
 BUSY-BODIES— Repentance  of. 
 
 In  private  life  I  never  knew  any  one 
 interfere  with  other  people's  disputes,  but 
 that  he  heartily  repented  of  it. 
 
 Lord  Carlisle. 
 
 BUSY-BODY— Description  of  the. 
 
 His  tongue,  like  the  tail  of  Samson's 
 foxes,  carries  firebrands,  and  is  enough  to 
 set  the  whole  field  of  the  world  on  a  iiame. 
 Himself  begins  table-talk  of  his  neighbour 
 at  another's  board,  to  whom  he  bears  the 
 first  news,  and  adjures  him  to  conceal  the 
 reporter;  whose  choleric  answer  he  returns 
 to  his  first  host,  enlarged  with  a  second 
 edition;  so,  as  it  used  to  be  done  in  the 
 fight  of  unwilling  mastiff's,  he  claps  each 
 on  the  side  apart,  and  provokes  them  to 
 an  eager  conflict.  Bp.  Sail. 
 
 BUSY-BODY— Mischief  of  the. 
 
 He  is  a  treacherous  supplanter  and  un- 
 derminer  of  the  peace  of  all  families  and 
 societies.  This  being  a  maxim  of  an  un- 
 failing truth,  that  nobody  ever  prys  into 
 another  man's  concerns  but  with  a  design 
 to  do,  or  to  be  able  to  do  him  a  mischief. 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 CALAMITIES— Persons  under. 
 
 The  willow,  which  bends  to  the  tempest, 
 often  escapes  better  than  the  oak,  which 
 resists  it ;  and  so  in  great  calamities  it 
 sometimes  happens  that  light  and  frivolous 
 spirits  recover  their  elasticity  and  presence 
 of  mind  sooner  that  those  of  a  loftier  cha- 
 racter. Sir  W.  Scott. 
 
 CALAMITY— Times  of. 
 
 Times  of  general  calamity  and  confusion 
 have  ever  been  productive  of  the  greatest 
 minds.  The  purest  ore  is  produced  from 
 the  hottest  furnace,  and  the  brightest 
 thunderbolt  is  elicited  from  the  darkest 
 storm.  C.  Colton, 
 
 CALLING— Abiding  in  our. 
 
 He  which  meddleth  with  that  he  hath 
 not  to  do  is  compared  to  one  that  catcheth 
 a  dog  by  the  ears,  and  dare  neither  hold 
 him  still  nor  let  him  go;  so  he  can  neither 
 go  forward  for  want  of  skill,  nor  backward 
 tor  want  of  shame.  Senry  Smith. 
 
 CALLING  S— Corruption  of  our. 
 
 For  although  the  actual  occupation  in 
 
 which  many  men  are  engaged  is  in  itself 
 the  very  line  of  their  duty,  yet  they  them- 
 selves make  it  unworthy  of  an  heir  of  im- 
 mortality by  the  spirit  with  which  they 
 enter  on  it.  Earthly  things  are  precious 
 when  we  use  them  as  the  materials  with 
 which  we  may  build  up  for  ourselves  an 
 heavenly  habitation ;  and  the  humblest  and 
 most  ordinary  trade  or  employment  may  be 
 carried  on  with  such  a  temper  and  such  a 
 heart,  that  it  may  advance  us  daily  on  our 
 way  to  heaven ;  and  the  angels  themselves 
 may  behold  us  engaged  in  it  with  respect 
 and  love.  But  when  pursued  only  for  its 
 own  sake,  without  a  single  thought  or  hope 
 reaching  beyond  it,  and  the  practice  of  it 
 sullied  with  all  the  unworthy  principles  and 
 bad  passions  of  the  world,  then  what  was 
 before  sound  and  wholesome  becomes  at 
 once  corrupt  and  injurious,  like  the  manna., 
 which,  although  given  by  God  for  the  sup- 
 port of  His  people  in  their  way  through  the 
 wilderness,  yet  bred  worms  and  became 
 loathsome  so  soon  as  it  was  not  used  ac- 
 cording to  the  will  of  its  Giver. 
 
 Dr.  Arnold. 
 
 CALLINGS— Mistakes  la. 
 
 One  man,  perhaps,  proves  miserable  in 
 the  study  of  the  law,  who  might  have 
 flourished  in  that  of  physics  or  divinity. 
 Another  runs  his  head  against  the  pulpit, 
 who  might  have  been  very  serviceable  to 
 his  country  at  the  plough.  And  a  third 
 proves  a  very  dull  and  heavy  philosopher, 
 who  possibly  would  have  made  a  good 
 mechanic,  and  have  done  well  enough  at 
 the  useful  philosophy  of  the  spade  or  the 
 anvil.  Dr.  South. 
 
 CALUMNY— Defeating. 
 
 1.  Despise  it.  To  seem  disturbed  at  it 
 is  the  way  to  make  it  believed ;  and  stab- 
 bing your  defamer  will  not  prove  you 
 innocent.  2.  Live  an  exemplary  life,  and 
 then  your  general  good  character  will  over- 
 power it.  3.  Speak  tenderly  of  every  one. 
 even  of  your  defamer,  and  by  so  doing  you 
 will  show  the  world  that  you  are  innocent 
 Anon. 
 
 CALUMNY— Description  of. 
 
 Apelles  painted  her  thus  : — There  sits  a 
 man  with  great  and  open  ears,  inviting 
 Calumny,  with  his  hand  held  out,  to  come 
 to  him ;  and  two  women.  Ignorance  and 
 Suspicion,  stand  near  him.  Calumny  breaks 
 out  in  a  fury ;  her  countenance  is  comely 
 and  beautiful,  her  eyes  sparkle  like  fire, 
 and  her  face  is  inflamed  with  anger ;  she 
 holds  a  lighted  torch  in  her  left  hand,  and 
 with  her  right  twists  a  young  man's  neck, 
 who  holds  up  his  hands  in  prayer  to  the 
 gods.  Before  her  goes  Eni-y,  pale  and 
 nasty ;  on  her  side  are  Fraud  and  Coiixpi 
 racy ;  behind  her  follows  Repentance,  ciud 
 7 
 
CALUMNY— CARE. 
 
 in  mourninf^,  and  her  clothes  torn,  with  her 
 head  turned  backwards,  as  if  she  looked  for 
 Truth,  who  comes  slowly  after. 
 
 Andrew  TooTce. 
 
 CALUMNY— Evils  of. 
 
 It  is  like  the  Greek  fire  used  in  ancient 
 warfare,  which  burnt  unquenched  beneath 
 the  water;  or  like  the  weeds  which,  when 
 you  have  extirpated  them  in  one  place,  are 
 sprouting  forth  vigorously  in  another  spot, 
 at  the  distance  of  many  hundred  yards ;  or, 
 to  use  the  metaphor  of  St.  James,  it  is  like 
 the  wheel  which  catches  fire  as  it  goes,  and 
 hums  with  fiercer  conflagration  as  its  own 
 speed  increases ;  "  it  sets  on  fire  the  whole 
 course  of  nature  "  (literally,  the  wheel  of 
 nature),  F.  W.  Eobertson. 
 
 CALUMNY— Exposed  to. 
 
 Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow, 
 
 Thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 CANDOUR— Definition  of. 
 
 Candour  is  a  disposition  to  form  a  fair 
 and  impartial  judgment  on  the  opinions 
 and  actions  of  others  ;  or  a  temper  of  mind 
 unsoured  by  envy,  unruffled  by  malice,  and 
 unsfcduced  by  prejudice ;  sweet  without 
 weakness,  and  impartial  without  rigour. 
 
 a  Buck, 
 
 CANDOUR— Literary. 
 
 The  freest  possible  scope  should  be  given 
 to  all  the  opinions,  discussions,  and  investi- 
 gations of  the  learned;  if  frail,  they  will 
 fall;  if  right,  they  will  remain  :  like  steam, 
 they  are  dangerous  only  when  pent  in, 
 restricted,  and  confined.  These  discordan- 
 cies in  the  moral  world,  like  the  apparent 
 war  of  the  elements  in  the  natural,  are 
 the  very  means  by  which  wisdom  and  truth 
 are  ultimately  established  in  the  one,  and 
 peace  and  harmony  in  the  other.   C.  Colton. 
 
 CANDOUR— Transparent. 
 
 Making  my  breast 
 Transparent  as  pure  crystal,  that  the  world. 
 Jealous  of  me,  may  see  the  foulest  thought 
 My  heart  doth  hold.  Buckingham. 
 
 CAPABILITY— Greater  than  Action. 
 
 Men  are  often  capable  of  greater  things 
 than  they  perform.  They  are  sent  into  the 
 world  with  bills  of  credit,  and  seldom  draw 
 to  their  full  extent.  Horace  Walpole. 
 
 CARDS— Unmanliness  of. 
 
 The  '  Spectator '  gives  us  the  following 
 anecdote  of  Mr.  Locke  : — "  Being  invited  to 
 dine  with  the  then  Lords  Halifax,  Anglesey, 
 and  Shaftesbury,  directly  after  dinner,  in- 
 stead of  conversation,  the  cards  were  called 
 for,  when  the  bad  or  good  success  produced 
 the  usual  passion.s  of  gaming.     Mr.  Locke 
 
 retiring  to  a  window,  and  writing,  my 
 Lord  Anglesey  desired  to  know  what  he 
 was  writing.  "Why,  my  Lords,"  an- 
 swered he,  "  I  could  not  sleep  last  night 
 for  the  pleasure  and  improvement  I  ex- 
 pected from  the  conversation  of  the  great- 
 est men  of  the  age."  This  so  sensibly 
 stung  them,  that  they  gladly  compounded 
 to  throw  their  cards  into  the  fire  if  he 
 would  his  paper ;  and  so  a  conversation 
 ensued  fit  for  such  persons. 
 
 From  this  anecdote  it  appears  that  good 
 sense,  a  liberal  education,  and  a  taste  for 
 mental  improvement,  disqualify  a  person 
 for  the  enjoyment  of  the  childish  tattle  of 
 the  card  table.  Pernicious  game  !  to  enjoy 
 which  persons  must  sacrifice  the  duty  and 
 pleasure  of  improving  their  minds  by  use- 
 ful conversation,  must  abuse  their  precious 
 time,  and  bury  their  talents,  to  engage  in 
 peevish  debates,  petty  wrangles,  low  chat- 
 ter, and  the  most  silly  triumphs.  The 
 conversation  of  such  persons  at  best  is  in- 
 significant ;  often  it  is  composed  of  envious 
 falsehoods  and  profane  sarcasms,  or  of  un- 
 chaste wit  and  false  intimations  of  absent 
 characters  ;  and  sometimes,  to  make  sport 
 and  enliven  the  game,  the  person  who  is 
 the  greatest  liar  and  the  greatest  fool  is 
 the  tidtUe  of  the  company.  W.  Cooke. 
 
 CARE— Description  of. 
 Rude  was  his  garment,  and   to   rags  all 
 rent, 
 Ne  better  had  he,  ne  for  better  cared  ; 
 With  blistered  hands  among  the  cinders 
 brent. 
 And   fingers   filthy,   with    long    nayles 
 unpared. 
 Right  fit   to  rend  the  food  on  which  he 
 fared : 
 His  name  was   Care — a  blacksmith  by 
 his  trade — 
 That  neither  day  nor  night  from  working 
 sparea, 
 But  to  small  purpose  yron  wedges  made : 
 Those  be  unquiet    thoughts   that    careful 
 minds  invade.  JE.  Spenser. 
 
 CARE — Divine. 
 
 The  care  of  God  is  that  attention  and 
 concern  which  He  feels  and  manifests  for 
 the  welfare  of  His  creatures  (1  Pet.  v,  7). 
 This  care  is  shown  in  a  variety  of  ways. 
 1.  From  the  temporal  blessings  which  we 
 enjoy.  2.  From  the  constitution  of  things, 
 so  as  to  conduce  to  our  general  happiness. 
 3.  From  the  institution  of  Christianity, 
 which,  in  its  doctrines,  means,  ordinances, 
 promises,  grace.  Saviour,  and  Spirit,  are 
 calculated  to  make  us  holy  and  happy  on 
 earth  and  for  ever.  4.  The  care  of  God  ex- 
 tends to  us  at  all  times,  through  all  changes 
 of  life,  and  even  into  eternity.  5.  It  is  uni- 
 versal,  extending  to  all  creatures.  6.  It  is 
 altogether  unmerited.     7.  It  is  superior  to 
 
CARE— CARES. 
 
 all  human  or  angelic  care.  He  cares  for  us 
 when  others  will  not  or  cannot,  or  when  we 
 cannot,  or  will  not,  care  for  ourselves. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 There  are  who  sigh  that  no  fond  heart  is 
 theirs. 
 None  loves  them  best.     0  vain  and  sel- 
 fish sigh ! 
 
 Out  of  the  bosom  of  His  love  He  spares — 
 The  Father  spares  the  Son,  for  thee  to 
 die: 
 
 For  thee  He  died — for  thee  He  lives  again; 
 
 O'er  thee  He   watches  in  His  boundless 
 reign. 
 
 Thou  art  as  much  His  care  as  if  beside 
 Nor  man  nor  angel  lived  in  heaven  or 
 
 earth : 
 Thus  sunbeams  pour  alike  their  glorious 
 
 tide 
 To  light  up  worlds,  or  wake  an  insect's 
 
 mirth ; 
 They  shine,  and  shine  with  unexhausted 
 
 store — 
 Thou  art  thy  Saviour's  darling — seek  no 
 
 more.  J.  Kehle. 
 
 CARE— lawful  and  Sinful. 
 
 Care  is  Imvful  when  it  consists  in  a 
 serious  thought  and  earnest  endeavour  to 
 please  God ;  to  embrace  His  Son,  obey  His 
 commands,  submit  to  His  providence,  to 
 promote  our  neighbour's  temporal  or  spi- 
 ritual advantage,  and  to  gain  the  goods  of 
 this  life  so  far  as  necessary  for  our  health, 
 family  comfort,  and  usefulness.  It  is  sin- 
 'ful  when  it  leads  us  to  immoderate  concern 
 about  earthly  things,  to  be  discontented 
 with  our  lot,  to  make  use  of  unlawful 
 means  to  obtain  worldly  good,  or  when  ex- 
 ercised in  a  way  of  vain  curiosity  (John 
 xxi,  22).  C.  Buclc. 
 
 CARELESS  PEOPLE. 
 
 The  world  is  full  of  careless  people,  and 
 consequently  the  newspapers  are  full  of 
 "  dreadful  accidents,"  and  "shocking casu- 
 alties." Children  are  expected  to  be  rattle- 
 brained and  careless ;  but  for  their  fathers 
 ;;nd  mothers  there  is  no  excuse ! 
 
 Only  the  other  day  our  nerves  were 
 worked  up  to  explosion  point  by  an  account 
 of  a  perilous  surgical  operation,  by  which  a 
 woman's  trachea  was  opened  to  remove  a 
 silver  dime  which  had  lodged  there.  And 
 how  on  earth  did  a  silver  dime  ever  get 
 into  a  woman's  windpipe  ?  Simply  because 
 she  was  careless,  and  laughed  with  her 
 mouth  full  of  small  coins.  Was  there  no 
 other  place  where  she  could  keep  her  three- 
 cent  pieces  ? 
 
 We  do  feel  sorry  for  a  creeping  baby 
 when  it  gets  hold  of  the  bars  of  the  grate 
 bj'  mistake,  or  cuts  its  fingers,  or  bumps 
 
 its  head ;  but  for  grown  people  who  suffer 
 from  their  own  recklessness  we  have  very 
 little  patience ! 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  a  woman's  converting 
 her  mouth  into  a  pincushion,  and  then  ex- 
 pecting our  sympathy,  when  a  sudden 
 sneeze  or  an  unexpected  cough  imperils 
 her  life  ? 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  a  man's  balancing 
 himself  on  an  oscillating  chair  instead  of 
 sitting  up  straight  like  a  Christian  ?  Are 
 we  expected  to  find  vinegar  and  brown 
 paper  for  the  contusion  on  the  back  of  his 
 head,  when  finally  he  comes  down  with  a 
 crash  (and  serves  him  right!)  ? 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  a  woman's  picking 
 her  ears  with  a  long  knitting  needle,  as 
 half  the  women  do,  when  a  child  running 
 against  her  would  send  the  instrument 
 three  inches  into  her  brain,  if  she  has  got 
 any  ? 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  a  man's  handling  a 
 loaded  gun  as  though  it  were  a  broom- 
 handle,  and  then  accuse  Providence  be- 
 cause the  charge  goes  into  his  head  or 
 foot,  as  he  might  have  known  it  would  ? 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  a  woman's  buying 
 arsenic  to  poison  rats,  and  putting  it  just 
 where  the  children  will  be  sure  to  get  at 
 it  ?  What  does  she  suppose  her  reasoning 
 faculties  were  given  to  her  for  ? 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  leaving  children  to 
 play  by  themselves  in  a  room  where  there 
 is  fire,  or  of  postponing  the  sweeping  of 
 that  dangerous  chimney  until  "  to-mor- 
 row ?  " 
 
 What  is  the  use  of  endangering  life  by 
 the  use  of  the  fiend  camphine,  as  long  as 
 anything  else  will  give  light  ?  Those  who 
 persist  in  this  practice  must  have  a  greater 
 fancy  for  being  burned  to  death  than  the 
 rest  of  the  world  ! 
 
 In  short,  what  is  the  use  of  careless 
 people  ?  T.  S.  ArtJni/r. 
 
 CARES — Brooding  over. 
 But  can  the  noble  mind  for  ever  brood— 
 The  willing  victim  of  a  weary  mood — 
 On  heartless  cares  that  squander  life  away, 
 And  cloud  young  Genius  bright'ning  into 
 day  ?  T.  Campbell. 
 
 Come,  rouse  thee,  dearest :  'tis  not  well 
 
 To  let  the  spirit  brood 
 Thus  darkly  o'er  the  cares  that  swell 
 
 Life's  current  to  a  flood. 
 As  brooks  and  torrents,  rivers,  all 
 Increase  the  gulf  in  which  they  fall. 
 Such  thoughts,  by  gathering  uj)  the  rills 
 Of  lesser  griefs,  spread  real  ills; 
 And  with  their  gloomy  shades  conceal 
 The  landmarks  Hope  would  else  reveal. 
 Mrs.  Dinnies. 
 
 CARES— Good  of. 
 
 The  cares  and  infelicities  of  life,  which 
 
100 
 
 CARES-CAUTION. 
 
 are  spoken  of  as  "hindrances  to  grace," 
 may  be  hindrances,  but  they  are  the  only 
 helps  it  has  in  this  world.  The  voice  of 
 provocation  is  the  voice  of  God  caUing  us 
 to  the  practice  of  patience. 
 
 A  man  in  old  age  is  like  a  sword  in  a 
 shop  window.  Men  that  look  upon  the 
 perfect  blade  do  not  imagine  the  process 
 by  which  it  was  completed.  Man  is  a 
 sword.  Daily  life  is  the  workshop,  and 
 God  is  the  artificer,  and  those  cares  which 
 beat  upon  the  anvil,  and  file  the  edge,  and 
 eat  in,  acid-like,  the  inscription  upon  his 
 hilt — these  are  the  very  things  that  fashion 
 the  man.  E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CARES— Relief  of, 
 
 Man  is  a  child  of  sorrow,  and  this  world 
 
 In  which  we  breathe  has  cares  enough  to 
 
 plague  us. 
 But  it  hath  means  withal  to  soothe  these 
 
 cares ; 
 And  he  who  meditates  on  others'  woe. 
 Shall  in  that  meditation  lose  his  own. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 Casting  all  your  care  upon  Him,  for  He 
 careth  for  yon.  »S'/.  Peter. 
 
 Commit  thou  all  thy  griefs 
 And  cares  into  His  hands; — 
 To  His  sure  truth  and  tender  love 
 Who  earth  and  heaven  commands. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 CARES— Nursing, 
 
 Men  do  not  avail  themselves  of  the  riches 
 of  God's  grace.  They  love  to  nurse  their 
 cares,  and  seem  as  uneasy  without  some 
 fret  as  an  old  friar  would  be  without  his 
 hair  girdle.  They  are  commanded  to  cast 
 their  cares  upon  the  Lord ;  but  even  when 
 they  attempt  it,  they  do  not  fail  to  catch 
 them  up  again,  and  think  it  meritorious  to 
 walk  burdened.  They  take  God's  ticket 
 to  heaven,  and  then  put  their  baggage  on 
 their  shoulders,  and  tramp,  tramp  the  whole 
 way  there  afoot.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CARES  AND  HONOURS, 
 
 The  emblem  of  King  Henry  VII,  in  the 
 windows  of  all  his  buildings,  was  a  crown 
 in  a  bush  of  thorns;  wherefore,  or  with 
 what  historical  allusion  he  did  so,  is  un- 
 certain; but  surely  it  was  to  imply  thus 
 much,  that  great  places  are  not  free  from 
 great  cares ;  that  no  man  knows  the  weight 
 of  a  sceptre  but  he  that  sways  it.  Tliis 
 made  Saul  hide  himself  among  the  stuff 
 ■when  he  should  have  been  made  a  king. 
 Many  a  sleepless  night,  many  a  restless 
 day,  and  many  a  busy  shift,  will  their 
 ambition  cost  them  that  affect  such  places 
 of  eminence ;  besides,  high  places  are  slip- 
 pery, and  as  it  is  easy  to  fall,  so  the  ruin 
 is  deep,  and  the  recovery  difficult.    Sjiencer. 
 
 CARNAL  MIND— The. 
 
 The  carnal  mind,  which  is  enmity,  forti- 
 fies the  soul  against  God  as  with  bars  and 
 doors  ;  averts  it  from  Him ;  carries  with  it 
 a  horrid,  guilty  consciousness,  which  fills 
 it  with  eternal  despair  and  rage ;  and  en- 
 wraps it  in  the  blackness  of  darkness  for 
 ever,  Moioe. 
 
 CARNAL  MIND— Heaviness  of  the. 
 
 For,  in  the  language  of  Heracleitus,  the 
 virtuous  soul  is  pure  and  unmixed  light, 
 springing  from  the  body  as  a  flash  of  light- 
 ning darts  from  the  cloud.  But  the  soul 
 that  is  carnal  and  immersed  in  sense,  like 
 a  heavy  and  dank  vapour,  can  with  diffi- 
 culty be  kindled,  and  caused  to  raise  its 
 eyes  heavenward,  Plutarch. 
 
 CARNAL  MIND— No  Judge  in  Religion. 
 
 The  ways  of  religion  are  not,  and  cannot 
 be,  pleasant  to  irreligious  men.  It  is  to 
 renewed  and  holy  persons  that  the  assertion 
 refers,  and  to  them  only ;  for  our  pleasures 
 must  be  suitable  to  our  prevailing  dispo- 
 sition and  predominant  temper.  Light 
 itself  affords  no  pleasure  to  the  blind  ;  nor 
 can  the  most  exquisite  music  yield  any 
 gratification  to  the  deaf  An  idle  man  has 
 no  enjoyment  in  labour;  nor  a  glutton  or 
 a  drunkard  in  temperance  and  sobriety. 
 Those  very  things  which  the  spiritual  mind 
 most  relishes  and  desires  are  to  the  carnal 
 mind  distasteful  and  offensive. 
 
 Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 CASUISTRY— Definition  of. 
 
 Casuistry  is  the  doctrine  and  science  of 
 conscience  and  its  cases,  with  the  rules  and 
 principles  of  resolving  the  same ;  drawn 
 partly  from  natural  reason  or  equity,  and 
 partly  from  the  authority  of  Scripture,  the 
 canon  law,  councils,  fathers,  &c.  To  casu- 
 istry belongs  the  decision  of  all  difficulties 
 arising  about  what  a  man  may  lawfully  do 
 or  not  do ;  what  is  sin  or  not  sin ;  what 
 things  a  man  is  obliged  to  do  in  order  to 
 discharge  his  duty,  and  what  he  may  let 
 alone  without  breach  of  it.  C.  Buck. 
 
 CAUTION,     WARINESS,     CIRCUMSPEC- 
 TION, 
 
 Caution  is  the  effect  of  fear ;  wariness  of 
 danger ;  circumspection  of  experience  and 
 reflection.  The  cautions  man  reckons  on 
 contingencies,  he  guards  against  the  evils 
 that  may  be,  by  pausing  before  he  acts ; 
 the  war//  man  looks  for  the  danger  which 
 he  suspects  to  be  impending,  and  seeks  to 
 avoid  it;  the  circtimspect  man  weighs  and 
 deliberates  ;  he  looks  around  and  calculates 
 on  po-sibilities  and  probabilities ;  he  seeks 
 to  attain  his  ends  by  the  safest  means.  A 
 tradesman  must  be  cautious  in  his  dealings 
 with  all  men ;   he  must  be  wary  in  his 
 
CENSOR— CHANCE. 
 
 101 
 
 intercourse  with  designing  men ;  he  must 
 he  circumspect  when  transacting  business  of 
 particular  importance  and  intricacy.  The 
 traveller  must  be  cautious  when  going  a 
 road  not  familiar  to  him  ;  he  must  be  loary 
 when  passing  over  slippery  and  dangerous 
 places ;  he  must  be  circumspect  when  going 
 through  obscure  and  winding  passages. 
 
 A  person  ought  to  be  cautious  not  to 
 give  offence ;  he  ouglit  to  be  ivary  not  to 
 entangle  himself  in  ruinous  litigations  ;  he 
 ought  to  be  circumspect  not  to  engage  in 
 what  is  above  his  abilities  to  complete.  It 
 is  necessary  to  be  cautious  not  to  disclose 
 our  sentiments  too  freely  before  strangers ; 
 to  be  wart/  in  one's  speech  before  busy- 
 bodies  and  calumniators;  to  he  circumspect 
 whenever  we  speali  on  public  matters,  re- 
 specting either  politics  or  religion. 
 
 G.  Crabb. 
 CENSOE— The. 
 
 Plutarch  tells  us  of  an  idle  and  efi'eminate 
 Etrurian  who  found  fault  with  the  manner 
 in  whicli  Themistocles  had  conducted  a 
 recent  campaign.  "  What/'  said  the  hero 
 in  reply,  "  have  you,  too,  something  to  say 
 about  war,  who  are  like  the  fish  that  has  a 
 sword,  but  no  heart."  He  is  always  the 
 severest  censor  on  the  merits  of  others  who 
 has  the  least  worth  of  his  own. 
 
 ^.  L.  Magoon, 
 
 CENSORIOUSNESS— Description  of. 
 
 Censoriousness  is  a  compound  of  many 
 of  the  worst  passions ;  latent  pride,  which 
 discovers  the  mote  in  our  brother's  eye, 
 but  hides  the  beam  in  our  own  ;  maligmint 
 envy,  which,  wounded  at  the  noble  talents 
 and  superior  prosperity  of  others,  trans- 
 forms them  into  the  objects  and  food  of  its 
 malice — if  possible,  obscuring  the  splendour 
 it  is  too  base  to  emulate  ;  disguised  hatred, 
 which  diffuses,  in  its  perpetual  mutterings, 
 the  irritable  venom  of  the  heart ;  servile 
 duplicity,  which  fulsomely  praises  to  the 
 face,  and  blackens  behind  the  back  ;  shame- 
 less levity,  which  sacrifices  the  peace  and 
 reputation  of  the  absent,  merely  to  give 
 barbarous  stings  to  a  jocular  conversation ; 
 altogether  forming  an  aggregate  the  most 
 desolating  on  earth,  and  nearest  in  cha- 
 racter to  the  malice  of  hell.  E.  L,  Magoon. 
 
 CENSURE— Effects  of. 
 
 Some  men's  censures  are  like  the  blasts 
 of  rams'  horns  before  the  walls  of  Jericho  ; 
 all  a  man's  fame  they  lay  level  at  one 
 stroke,  when  all  they  go  upon  is  only 
 conceit,  without  any  certain  basis. 
 
 J.  Beaumont, 
 CEREMONIES— Imply  Defect. 
 
 Because  we  could  not  serve  God  in  that 
 simplicity  we  ought,  therefore  we  have 
 these  helps.  Hence  it  is  that  the  nearer 
 to  perfection  the  fewer  ceremonies ;  as  it 
 were,  the  more  light  the  less  shadow,     lu 
 
 the  Law  were  abundant  ceremonies,  in  the 
 Gospel  far  fewer,  in  heaven  none  at  all. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 CEREMONIES— Legal. 
 
 Paul  calls  legal  ceremonies  "beggarly 
 rudiments;"  such  are  the  popish — like  a 
 beggar's  cloak,  full  of  patches.  When  the 
 debt  is  paid,  it  is  unjust  to  keep  back  the 
 bond :  Christ  being  come,  and  having  dis- 
 charged all,  it  is  injurious  to  retain  the 
 bond  of  ceremonies.  In  the  spring  we 
 make  much  of  buds  and  flowers  to  delight 
 the  eye  and  cheer  the  sense  of  smelliiig  ; 
 but  in  autumn,  when  we  receive  the  fruits 
 to  content  our  taste  and  appetite,  and  to 
 nourish  us,  the  other  are  nothing  worth. 
 The  affianced  virgin  esteems  every  token 
 her  lover  sends  her,  and  solaceth  her  afi'ec- 
 tious  with  those  earnests  of  his  love  in  his 
 absence ;  but  wlien  she  is  married,  and 
 enjoys  himself,  there  is  no  regard  of  the 
 tokens.  It  was  something  to  have  a  cere- 
 mony or  a  sacrifice,  representing  a  Saviour ; 
 but  this  "made  nothhig  perfect;"  and  all 
 the  life  which  those  tilings  had  was  from 
 that  Saviour  whom  now  we  have. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 CEREMONY— Effects  of. 
 Ceremony  leads  her  bigots  forth. 
 Prepared  to  fight  for  shadows  of  no  worth ; 
 While  truths  on  which  eternal  things  de- 
 pend 
 Find  not,  or  hardly  find,  a  single  friend ; 
 As  sokliers  watch  the  signal  of  command, 
 They  learn  to  bow,  to  kneel,  to  sit,  to  stand ; 
 Happy  to  fill  religion's  vacant  place 
 Witli  hollow  form,  and  gestm'e,and  grimace. 
 Cowper. 
 CHANCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Chance  is  a  term  we  apply  to  events  to 
 denote  that  they  happen  without  any  ne- 
 cessary or  foreknown  cause.  When  we 
 say  a  thing  happens  by  chance,  we  mean 
 no  more  than  that  its  cause  is  unknown  to 
 us,  and  not,  as  some  vainly  imagine,  that 
 chance  itself  can  be  tlie  cause  of  anything. 
 C.  Buck. 
 CHANCE— Explanation  of. 
 
 The  case  of  the  painter  who,  unable  to 
 express  the  foam  at  the  mouth  of  the  horse 
 he  had  painted,  threw  his  sponge  in  de- 
 spair at  tlie  piece,  and  by  cliauce  did  th.it 
 which  he  could  not  do  before  by  design,  is 
 an  eminent  instance  of  what  is  calltd 
 chance.  Yet  it  is  obvious  all  we  here  mean 
 by  chance  is,  that  the  painter  was  not 
 aware  of  the  effect,  or  that  he  did  not 
 throw  the  sponge  with  such  a  view ;  not 
 but  that  he  actually  did  everything  ne- 
 cessary to  produce  the  effect ;  insomucli 
 that,  considering  the  direction  whei-ein  he 
 threw  the  sponge,  together  with  its  form 
 and   specific   gravity,  the  colours  where- 
 
102 
 
 CHANCE— CHAEACTER. 
 
 with  it  was  smeared,  and  the  distance  of 
 the  hand  from  the  piece,  it  was  impossible, 
 on  the  present  system  of  things,  that  the 
 effect  should  not  follow.    A.  W.  Chambers. 
 
 Chance  is  hut  the  pseudonyme  of  God 
 for  those  particular  cases  which  He  does 
 not  choose  to  subscribe  openly  with  His 
 own  sign  manual.  S.  T.  Coleridcje. 
 
 CHANCE— Weakness  of. 
 
 Chance  never  writ  a  legihle  hook ;  chance 
 never  built  a  fair  house;  chance  never 
 drew  a  neat  picture ;  it  never  did  any  of 
 these  things,  nor  ever  will ;  nor  can  it  be 
 without  absurdity  supposed  able  to  do 
 them ;  which  yet  are  works  very  gross  and 
 rude,  very  easy  and  feasible,  as  it  were,  in 
 comparison  to  the  production  of  a  flower  or 
 
 tree.  Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 Clin  that  which  is  not  shape  the  things 
 
 that  are  ? 
 
 N  chance  omnipotent  ?  Resolve  me  why 
 
 J  lie  meanest   shell-fish,  and   the   noblest 
 
 brute, 
 
 Transmit  their  likeness  to  the  years  that 
 
 come?  D.  Sladden. 
 
 CHANCE,  FORTUNE,  AND  FATE. 
 
 Chance  neither  forms,  orders,  nor  de- 
 signs ;  neither  knowledge  nor  intention  is 
 attributed  to  it ;  its  events  are  uncertain 
 and  variable  ;  fortune  forms  plans  and  de- 
 signs, but  without  choice  ;  we  attribute  to 
 it  an  intention  without  discernment;  it  is 
 said  to  be  blind :  fate  forms  plans  and 
 chains  of  causes;  intention,  knowledge, 
 and  power  are  attributed  to  it ;  its  views 
 are  fixed,  its  results  decisive.  A  person 
 goes  as  chance  directs  him  when  he  has  no 
 express  object  to  determine  his  choice  one 
 way  or  other;  his  fortune  favours  him  if, 
 without  any  expectation,  he  gets  the  thing 
 he  wishes;  his,  fate  wills,  if  he  reaches  the 
 desired  point,  contrary  to  what  he  in- 
 tended. G.  Crabb. 
 
 CZAEACTER— Commencement  of. 
 
 For  character  groweth  d;iy  by  day,  and  all 
 things  aid  it  in  unfolding, 
 
 And  the  bent  unto  good  or  evil  may  be 
 given  in  the  hours  of  infancy ; 
 
 Scratch  the  green  rind  of  a  sapling,  or 
 wantonly  twist  it  in  the  soil, 
 
 The  scarred  and  crooked  oak  will  tell  of 
 thee  for  centuries  to  come ; 
 
 Even  so  mayst  thou  guide  the  mind  to 
 good,  or  lead  it  to  the  moorings  of  evil. 
 
 For  disposition  is  builded  up  by  the  fa- 
 shioning of  first  impressions.    Tamper. 
 
 CHARACTER— Decisive. 
 
 I  wish  a  character  as  decisive  as  that  of 
 a  lion  or  a  tiger,  and  an  impetus  towards 
 the   important   objects   of    my  choice   as 
 
 forcible  as  theirs  towards  prey  and  hos- 
 tility; wish  to  have  an  extensive  atmo- 
 spliere  of  consciousness ;  a  soul  which  can 
 mingle  with  every  element  in  every  form, 
 whicb,  like  an  jEolian  harp,  arrests  even 
 the  vagrant  winds,  and  makes  them  music. 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 CHARACTER— Development  of. 
 
 An  English  barrister,  who  was  accus- 
 tomed to  train  students  for  the  practice  of 
 law^,  and  who  was  not  himself  a  religious 
 man,  was  once  asked,  why  he  put  stu- 
 dents, from  the  very  first,  to  the  study 
 and  analysis  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of 
 the  sacred  Scriptures  ?  "  Because,"  said 
 he,  "  there  is  nothing  else  like  it,  in  any 
 language,  for  the  development  of  mind 
 and  character."  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 CHARACTER— Energy  of. 
 
 0  how  many  precious  moments  are 
 wasted  in  "  softness  and  needless  self-in- 
 dulgence," in  frivolous  pursuits,  in  idle 
 conversation,  in  vague  and  useless  revelry, 
 which,  if  rightly  improved,  might  tell  upon 
 the  world's  destiny  and  the  Redeemer's 
 glory!  How  many  a  noble  and  godlike 
 statue  might  have  adorned  the  gallery  of 
 the  Church's  honoured  ones,  hacl  not  in- 
 dustry been  wanting  to  perfect  Its  propor- 
 tions and  polish  its  surface  ?  Distant  as 
 may  seem  the  summit  here  unveiled  to 
 your  view,  it  is  not  inaccessible.  He  need 
 never  despair  who  possesses  the  energy  of 
 character  to  work  out  his  own  destiny. 
 No  extraneous  circumstances  can  keep 
 such  a  man  down ;  he  will  surmount  them 
 all.  He  may  be  a  child  of  penury— cradled 
 upon  the  barren  rock — but,  by  the  force 
 of  his  own  solitary  genius,  aided  by  the 
 Divine  blessing,  he  will  at  length  compel 
 the  homage  of  the  church  and  the  world. 
 The  hero  tolls  for  fame,  the  scholar  labours 
 and  piues  that  his  name  may  live  on  the 
 tablet  of  immortality :  how  much  nobler 
 thy  aim,  O  thou  man  of  God !  thou  art 
 living  for  eternity,  toiling  for  an  immortal 
 crown  !  Angels  and  men  are  witnesses 
 how  thou  workest  for  tliy  God!  Arise, 
 gird  thyself  for  the  contest ! 
 
 Dr.  W.  D.  Clark. 
 
 CHARACTER— Equanimity  of. 
 
 The  equanimity  which  a  few  persons 
 preserve  through  the  diversities  of  pros- 
 perous and  adverse  life  reminds  me  of 
 certain  aquatic  plants  which  spread  their 
 tops  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  witli 
 wonderful  elasticity  keep  the  surface  still 
 if  the  water  swells  or  if  it  falls.     J.  Foster. 
 
 CHARACTER— Excellence  of. 
 
 The  humblest  trade  has  in  it  elbow- 
 room  for  all  the  virtues.  That  huckster 
 can  be  true,  and  honest,  and  honorable — • 
 
CHAEACTEE. 
 
 103 
 
 what  more  can  Rothschild  he  ?  The  ex- 
 cellence of  a  circle  lies  in  its  roundness, 
 not  its  bigness.  The  rim  of  a  threepenny 
 bit  is  a  true  circle,  and  would  not  be 
 mended,  but  only  magnified,  if  swelled  till 
 it  equalled  in  size  the  tire  of  a  cart-wheel, 
 or  dilated  till  it  touched  the  outline  of  a 
 planet.  S.  Coley. 
 
 CHAEACTEE— Formation  of. 
 So  build  we  up  the  being  that  we  are. 
 Thus  deeply  drinking  in  the  soul  of  things, 
 We  shall  be  wise  perforce  j  and  while  in- 
 spired '  [free. 
 By  choice,  and  conscious  that  the  will  is 
 Unswerving  shall  we  move,  as  if  impelled 
 By  strict  necessity  along  the  path 
 Of  order  and  of  good.     Whate'er  we  see, 
 Whate'er  we  feel,  by  agency  direct 
 Or  indirect,  shall  tend  to  feed  and  nurse 
 Our  faculties,  shall  fix' in  calmer  seats 
 Of  moral   strength,  and  raise  to  loftier 
 
 heights 
 Of  love  divine,  our  intellectual  soul. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 CHAEACTEE— Gone  Before. 
 
 A  young  man's  character  was  such  as  to 
 excite  universal  disapprobation.  He  could 
 no  longer  resist  the  pressure  of  public  sen- 
 timent. He  disposed  of  his  property  and 
 attempted  to  resume  business  in  a  distant 
 part  of  the  country.  But  his  character,  or 
 rather  his  reputation,  had  gone  before  him. 
 Men  regarded  him  with  suspicion.  He  was 
 miable  to  secure  the  confidence  and  coun- 
 tenance necessary  to  success. 
 
 In  this  case  his  sins  went  before  him 
 to  his  new  place  of  residence.  The  sins 
 of  men  go  betore  them  still  further.  They 
 go  before  them  to  the  judgment,  and  will 
 he  ready  to  meet  them  there.  What  a 
 fearful  meeting !  How  impossible  to  es- 
 cape from  their  accusings  and  conse- 
 quences. 
 
 It  is  related  of  a  prisoner  that,  after  he 
 had  toiled  for  months  in  constructing  a 
 mine  from  his  dungeon,  by  means  of  which 
 he  hoped  to  escape,  when  at  last  he  broke 
 ground  and  let  in  the  light  of  day,  which 
 he  had  so  fondly  hoped  to  enjoy,  the  first 
 object  he  saw  was  an  armed  jailor  waiting 
 to  arrest  him  !  That  jailor  struck  far  less 
 dismay  and  despair  to  the  heart  of  the 
 prisoner  than  meeting  with  his  sins  will 
 strike  to  the  heart  of  the  sinner  at  the  day 
 of  judgment.  Dr.  Jeffers, 
 
 CHAEACTEE— Power  of. 
 
 Benjamin  Franklin  attributed  his  suc- 
 cess as  a  public  man,  not  to  his  talents  or 
 his  power  of  speaking — for  these  were  but 
 moderate — but  to  his  known  integrity  of 
 character.  "  Hence  it  was,"  he  says,  "  that 
 I  had  so  much  weight  with  my  fellow- 
 citizens.     I  was  but  a  bad  speaker,  never 
 
 eloquent,  subject  to  much  hesitation  in 
 my  choice  of  words,  hardly  correct  in  my 
 language,  and  yet  I  generally  carried  my 
 point."  Character  creates  confidence  in 
 men  in  high  stations,  as  well  as  in  human 
 life.  It  was  said  of  the  first  Emperor 
 Alexander  of  Russia,  that  his  personal 
 character  was  equivalent  to  a  constitution. 
 During  the  wars  of  the  Fronde,  Montaigne 
 was  the  only  man  among  the  French  gentry 
 who  kept  his  castle  gate  unbarred;  and  it 
 is  said  of  him  that  his  personal  character 
 was  worth  more  to  him  than  a  regiment  o  ' 
 horse.  That  character  is  power,  is  true  in 
 a  much  higher  sense  than  that  knowledge 
 is  power.  Mind  without  heart,  intelligence 
 without  conduct,  cleverness  without  good- 
 ness, are  powers,  if  they  may  be  powers, 
 only  for  mischief.  We  may  be  instructed 
 or  amused  by  them;  but  it  is  sometime; 
 as  difficult  to  admire  them  as  it  would  bv 
 to  admire  the  dexterity  of  a  pickpocket, 
 or  the  horsemanship  of  a  highwayman. 
 Truthfulness,  integrity,  and  goodness — 
 qualities  that  hang  out  on  any  man's 
 breath — form  the  essence  of  manly  cha- 
 racter, or,  as  one  of  our  writers  has  it, 
 "  that  inbred  loyalty  unto  virtue  that  can 
 serve  her  without  livery."  When  Stephen 
 of  Colonna  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  base 
 assailants,  and  they  asked  him  in  derision, 
 "  Where  is  your  fortress  ?"  "  Here  !"  was 
 his  bold  reply,  placing  his  hand  upon  his 
 heart.  It  is  in  misfortune  that  the  cha- 
 racter of  the  upright  man  shines  forth 
 with  the  greatest  lustre,  and  when  all  else 
 fails  he  takes  a  stand  upon  his  integrity 
 and  courage.  Dr.  Saven. 
 
 CHAEACTEE— Seat  of. 
 
 Deeper  than  the  judgment,  deeper  than 
 the  feelings,  lies  the  seat  of  human  cha- 
 racter— in  that  which  is  the  mystery  of  all 
 beings  and  all  things,  in  what  we  call  their 
 "  nature,"  without  knowing  where  it  lies, 
 what  it  is,  or  how  it  wields  its  power. 
 All  we  know  is,  that  it  does  exert  a  power 
 over  external  circumstances,  bending  them 
 all  in  its  own  direction,  or  breaking  its 
 instruments  against  what  it  cannot  bend. 
 The  nature  of  an  acorn  turns  dews,  air, 
 soils,  and  sunbeams  to  oak ;  and  though 
 circumstances  may  destroy  its  power,  they 
 cannot  divert  it  while  it  survives.  It  de- 
 fies man,  beast,  earth,  and  sky,  to  make  it 
 produce  elm.  Cultivation  may  aff'ect  its 
 quality,  and  training  its  form  ;  but  whe- 
 ther it  shall  produce  oak,  ash,  or  elm,  is  a 
 matter  into  which  no  force  from  without 
 can  enter — a  matter  not  of  circumstances, 
 but  purely  of  nature.  To  turn  nature  be- 
 longs to  the  Power  which  originally  fixed 
 nature.  W.  Arthur. 
 
 CHAEACTEE— Social. 
 
 Lijo.  There  is  .\  want  of  continuUi/  in 
 
104 
 
 CHAEACTER— CHARACTERS. 
 
 your  social  character;  you  seem  broken 
 into  fragments.  H.  Well,  I  sparkle  in 
 fragments.  Ego.  But  how  much  better 
 to  shine  whole,  like  a  mirror  ?       /.  Foster. 
 
 CHARACTER— Superficial. 
 
 Shallow  soil  is  like  superficial  character. 
 You  meet  with  such  persons  in  life.  There 
 is  nothing  deep  about  them— all  they  do, 
 and  all  they  have,  is  on  the  surface.  Tlie 
 superficial  servant's  work  is  done;  but 
 lazily,  partially — not  thoroughly.  The 
 superficial  workman's  labour  will  not  bear 
 looking  into,  but  it  bears  a  showy  outside. 
 The  very  dress  of  such  persons  betrays  the 
 slatternly,  incomplete  character  of  their 
 minds.  When  religion  comes  in  contact 
 with  persons  of  this  stamp,  it  shares  the 
 fate  of  everything  else.  It  is  taken  up  in 
 a  superficial  way.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 CHARACTER— Truthfulness  in. 
 
 Truthfulness  is  a  corner-stone  in  cha- 
 racter, and  if  it  be  not  firmly  laid  in  TOuth, 
 there  will  ever  after  be  a  weak  spot  in  IWie 
 foundation.  J.  Davis. 
 
 CHARACTER— Upright. 
 
 A  character  should  retain  always  the 
 upright  vigour  of  manliness  ;  not  let  itself 
 be  bent  and  fixed  in  any  specific  form.  It 
 should  be  like  an  upright  elastic  tree, 
 which  bend?:,  accommodating  a  little  to 
 each  wind  on  every  side,  but  never  loses 
 its  spring  and  self-dependent  vigour. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 CHARACTERS  OF  PEACE  AND  WAR. 
 
 Luther  loved  to  fight  on  the  deck  of  the 
 Church's  ship  out  on  the  high  seas,  against 
 the  fieet  that  came  sailing  from  the  ports 
 of  the  enemy.  Lcighton  preferred  the 
 peaceful  toils  of  the  fisherman,  to  mend 
 the  Church's  nets  under  some  shady  rock, 
 and  to  cast  them  out  into  the  still  waters 
 for  a  draught  of  fislies.  Luther's  faith  was 
 more  of  the  soldier's  sword,  and  Leighton's 
 more  of  the  pilgrim's  stafi".  Tlie  one  was 
 eager,  like  Peter;  tlie  other  retiring,  like 
 John.  But  both  were  faithful  servants, 
 loved  their  Lord,  and  have  long  since  em- 
 braced in  heaven.  /.  Stoughton. 
 
 CHARACTERS— Perfect. 
 
 There  are  some  men  who,  like  pictures, 
 would  be  perfect  in  their  moral  characters, 
 were  it  not  for  some  blemish  which  you 
 discover  on  the  ei/e,  or  the  ear,  or  the 
 mouth,  or  some  other  part  of  the  exposed 
 person.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHARACTERS— Pure. 
 
 Thank  God,  there  are  several  cases  of 
 tmsoiled  character  in  the  sacred  history. 
 No  Haw  was  ever  alleged  against  the  beau- 
 tiful Abel,  the  chaste  and  upright  Joseph, 
 
 the  faithful  Obadiah,  with  the  heavenly 
 seers  Elijah  and  Elisha,  or  against  Daniel, 
 Ezra,  and  Nehcmiah  ;  and  if  Moses  erred, 
 it  was  only  that  "he  spake  unadvisedly 
 with  his  lips  ;"  and  if  this  was  set  down  as 
 a  sin  by  the  Divine  Lawgiver,  it  only  shows 
 how  rigid  and  severe  is  His  test,  especially 
 considering  how  many  temptations  and 
 provocations  the  meekest  man  had  to  con- 
 tend with.  But  what  shall  we  say  of  Job, 
 whom  God  himself  calls  a  perfect  man,  or 
 of  John,  "the  beloved  disciple,"  or  of  8t. 
 Paul,  against  whom  no  flaw  can  be  alleged  ? 
 for  we  deny  all  fault  or  appearance  offaidt 
 in  him  in  the  "  sharp  contention  "  between 
 him  and  Barnabas,  about  John  Mark,  who 
 was  sister's  son  to  Barnabas,  for  the  fault 
 was  all  with  Barnabas,  and  Paul  was 
 blameless;  and  he  was  commended  by  the 
 brethren  to  the  grace  of  God,  while  nothing 
 of  the  sort  is  said  abovit  Barnabas.  But, 
 after  all,  how  many,  of  whom  better  things 
 might  have  been  expected,  have  been  pain- 
 ful specimens  of  the  frailty  of  human 
 nature  and  its  fatal  tendency  to  sin.  Be- 
 ginning with  our  first  parent,  Adam,  and 
 passing  over  Cain,  his  first-born  son,  to 
 Noah,  and  then  to  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
 Jacob,  to  Aaron,  and  David,  and  Solomon, 
 how  do  all  tend  to  humble  us,  to  show  how 
 frail  is  humanity  without  God  ?  Surely, 
 looking  at  such  failures,  one  is  disposed  to 
 cry  out  with  David,  "  I  have  seen  an  end 
 of  all  perfection :  but  Thy  commandment 
 is  exceeding  broad"  (Psalm  cxix,  96). 
 
 Br.  Soldich. 
 
 CHARACTERS  —Semi-transparent. 
 
 There  are  minerals,  such  as  gypsum,  se- 
 lenitc,  and  quartz,  through  v/hich  objects 
 may  be  seen,  but  with  no  distinctness  of 
 outline.  Gypsum  was  used,  under  the 
 name  of  phengites,  by  some  of  the  most 
 hateful  of  the  Roman  emperors — Nero, 
 for  example — for  windows  of  their  palaces. 
 So  nearly  transparent  was  it  that  these 
 tyrants  could  look  out  and  see  what  the 
 people  were  doing,  while  the  latter  could 
 not  look  in  and  see  what  was  going  on 
 there.  And  this  is  just  what  jealous  and 
 cruel  despots  and  others  of  like  disposition 
 desire.  Others  they  wish  to  scrutinise 
 with  eagle's  eyes,  while  they  themselves 
 keep  in  the  dark,  and  from  thence  give 
 the  assassin's  stab.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHARACTERS— Two. 
 
 We  place  two  characters  before  yon. 
 Here  is  one — he  is  decided  in  his  devoted- 
 ness  to  God — painstaking  in  his  search  for 
 truth — strong  in  benevolent  purpose  and 
 holy  endeavour — wielding  a  blessed  influ- 
 ence— failing  oft,  and  ceasing  never — ripen- 
 ing with  the  lapse  of  years — the  spirit 
 mounting  upon  the  breath  of  its  parting 
 prayer — the    last    enemy    destroyed — his 
 
CHARITY— CHASTISEMENT. 
 
 105 
 
 memory  green  for  ap:es — and  grateful  thou- 
 sands chiselling  on  his  tomb,  "  He,  being 
 DEAD,  YET  SPEAKETH."  There  is  another 
 — he  resists  religious  impression — outgrows 
 the  necessity  for  jjrayer — forgets  the  lessons 
 of  his  youth  and  the  admonitions  of  his 
 godly  home — forsakes  the  sanctuary — sits 
 in  the  seat  of  the  scorner — laughs  at  reli- 
 gion as  a  foolish  dream — influences  many 
 for  evil — runs  to  excess  of  wickedness — 
 sends,  in  some  instances,  his  victims  down 
 before  him — is  stricken  with  premature  old 
 age — has  hopeless  prospects,  and  a  terrible 
 death- bed — rots  from  the  remembrance  of 
 his  fellows — and  angel  hands  burn  in  upon 
 his  gloomy  sepulchre  the  epitaph  of  his 
 blasted  life — "And  that  man  perisjied 
 
 NOT   ALONE   IN   HIS   INIQUITY." 
 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 CHARITY— Christian. 
 
 /Christian  charity  is  friendship  to  all  the 
 world ;  and  when  friendj-hips  were  the 
 noblest  thing  in  the  world,  charity  was 
 little,  like  the  sun  drawn  in  at  a  chink,  or 
 his  beams  drawn  into  the  centre  of  a  burn- 
 ing glass.  But  Christian  charity  is  friend- 
 shijj  expanded  like  the  face  of  the  sun  when 
 it  mounts  above  the  eastern  hills. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 CHARITY— Endurance  of. 
 
 "Charity,"  as  saith  St.  Paul,  "never 
 f  firileth."  Stars,  and  suns,  and  systems ! 
 ye  are  appointed  to  endure  but  for  a  time  ; 
 notwithstanding  your  appearance  of  perma- 
 nence, ye  carry  with  you,  in  your  glorious 
 marchings,  the  sentence  that  ye  shall  end 
 stamped  upon  you  all !  But  "  charity 
 never  faileth."  The  man  who,  actuated 
 by  the  love  of  the  Creator  and  Redeemer, 
 drives  out  "  by  little  and  little"  all  selfish- 
 ness from  his  soul,  shall  shine  hereafter 
 amidst  stars  which  are  never  to  bequenched, 
 when  "  there  shall  be  no  more  light  of  the 
 sun,  neither  of  the  moon."  The  faithful, 
 in  whom  faith  has  wrought  by  love,  shall 
 have  their  place  in  a  firmament  spread  out 
 lor  eternity,  and  move  in  an  orbit  which, 
 if  it  change,  will  change  only  through  in- 
 creasing speed  in  performing  the  will  of 
 their  Lord.  H.  MelvUl. 
 
 CHARITY- Excellence  of. 
 
 Irena^us  calleth  charity  a  most  excellent 
 present  from  heaven,  the  top  and  zenith  of 
 iiU  virtues,  gifts,  and  favours  of  God.  jMaxi- 
 mus  snith,  it  is  the  gate  of  the  sanctuary, 
 which  leadeth  us  aright  to  the  vision  of  the 
 Holy  Trinity.  It  is  the  double  spirit 
 which  Elvieus  required,  wherewith  to  love 
 God  and  our  neighb<iur.  Behold  the  whole 
 hiw  !  behold  all  perfection  !  You  are  not 
 much  to  afflict  yourself,  saith  Augustine, 
 to  become  perfect.  Love  God,  and  then 
 do  what  you  will ;  for  if  you  desire  to 
 know  whether  your  love  to  God  he  real  and 
 
 not  counterfeit,  mark  how  you  love  your 
 neighbour.  By  how  much  the  lines  draw 
 neai-er  one  to  another,  so  much  the  more 
 they  approach  to  the  centre ;  by  how  much 
 the  nearer  you  approach  to  your  neighbour 
 in  love,  by  so  much  the  nearer  you  are  to 
 God.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 CHARITY— No  Excess  in. 
 
 In  all  other  human  gifts  and  passion=, 
 though  they  advance  nature,  yet  they  are 
 subject  to  excess;  but  charity  alone  admits 
 no  excess.  For  so  we  see,  by  aspiring  to 
 be  like  God  in  power,  the  angels  trans- 
 gressed and  fell ;  by  aspiring  to  be  like  God 
 In  knowledge  man  transgressed  and  fell ; 
 but  by  aspiring  to  be  like  God  in  goodness 
 or  love,  neither  man  nor  angel  ever  did, 
 or  shall,  transgress.  For  unto  that  imita- 
 tion we  are  called.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 CHARITY— Looking  at  Others  in. 
 
 Those  of  us  who  have  read  classic  history 
 may  remember  an  incident  in  the  history 
 of  the  Macedonian  emperor.  A  painter  was 
 commanded  to  sketch  the  monarch.  In  one 
 of  his  great  battles  he  had  been  struck  with 
 the  sword  upon  the  forehead,  and  a  very 
 large  scar  had  been  left  on  the  right  tem- 
 ple. The  painter,  who  was  a  master  hand 
 in  his  art,  sketched  him  leaning  on  his 
 elbow,  with  his  finger  covering  the  scar  on 
 his  forehead,  and  so  the  likeness  of  the  king 
 was  taken,  but  without  the  scar.  Let  us 
 put  the  finger  of  charity  upon  the  scar  of 
 the  Christian  as  we  look  at  him,  whatever 
 it  may  be — the  finger  of  a  tender  and  for- 
 bearing chai-ity,  and  see  in  spite  of  it  and 
 under  it  the  image  of  Christ  notwith- 
 standing. Br.  Cumnung. 
 
 CHARITY— Touchstone  of. 
 
 Never  to  despise,  never  to  judge  rashly, 
 never  to  interpret  other  men's  actions  in  an 
 ill  sense ;  but  to  compassionate  their  infir- 
 mities, bear  their  burdens,  excuse  their 
 weaknesses,  make  up  and  consolidate  the 
 breaches  of  charity  happened  by  their  fault, 
 to  hate  imperfections,  and  ever  to  love  men, 
 yea,  even  your  enemies  ;  therein  the  touch- 
 stone of  true  charity  is  known.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 CHARITY  AND  FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Charity  commands  us,  where  we  know 
 no  ill,  to  think  well  of  all ;  but  friendship, 
 that  always  goes  a  step  higher,  gives  a  man 
 a  peculiar  right  and  claim  to  the  good 
 opinion  of  his  friend.  JDr.  South. 
 
 CHASTISEMENT— Design  of. 
 
 This  is  the  manner  of  God's  proceedmgs 
 — to  send  good  after  evil,  as  He  made  light 
 after  darkness;  to  turn  justice  intonjercy, 
 as  He  turned  water  into  wine  :  for  as  the 
 beasts  must  he  killed  before  they  could  be 
 sacrificed,   so  men  must  be  killed  before 
 
106 
 
 CHASTITY— CEEERyULITESS. 
 
 they  can  be  sacrificed ;  that  is,  the  knife  of 
 drrection  must  prune  and  dress  them,  and 
 ]o;)  off  their  rotten  twigs  before  they  can 
 bring  forth  fruit ;  these  are  the  cords  which 
 bind  the  ram  nnto  the  altar,  lest  when  he 
 is  brought  thither  he  should  run  from 
 tlience  again ;  this  is  the  chariot  which 
 carrieth  our  thoughts  to  heaven,  as  it  did 
 Nebuchadnezzar's.  This  is  the  hammer 
 which  squareth  the  rough  stones  till  they 
 be  plain  and  smooth  and  fit  for  the  temple. 
 S.  Smith. 
 
 CHASTITY— ITatui-e  of. 
 
 Chastity  consists  in  a  fixed  abhorrence 
 of  all  forbidden  sensual  indulgences,  a  re- 
 collection of  past  impurities  with  shame 
 and  sorrow  :  a  resolute  guard  over  our 
 thoughts,  passions,  and  actions  for  the  fu- 
 ture ;  a  steady  abstinence  from  the  distant 
 approaches  of  evil  desires  and  indecency. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 Chaste  as  the  icicle 
 That's  curdled  by  the  frost  of  purest  snow. 
 And  hangs  on  Uian's  temple.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Chaster  than  the  crystal  of  the  Scythian 
 
 chlfs. 
 The  more  the   proud  winds  court  it,  still 
 
 the  purer.  Beaumont. 
 
 CHASTITY-Power  of. 
 In  thy  fair  brow  there's  such  a  legend  writ 
 Of  chastity,  as  blinds  the  adult'rous  eye ; 
 Not  the  mountain  ice, 
 Congeal'd  to  crystal,  is  so  frosty  chaste 
 As  thy  victorious  soul,  which  conquers  man. 
 And  man's  proud  tyrant,  passion.    Dryden. 
 
 CHASTITY— Preserving. 
 
 1.  To  keep  ourselves  fully  employed  in 
 labours  either  of  the  body  or  the  mind; 
 idleness  is  frequently  the  introduction  to 
 sensuality.  2.  To  guard  the  senses,  avoid- 
 ing everything  which  may  be  an  incentive 
 to  lust — certain  meats  and  drinks — reading 
 certain  books,  indulging  the  eyes  in  looking 
 at  certain  things,  frequenting  public  plays, 
 dancings,  &c.  3.  To  implore  the  Divine 
 Spirit,  which  is  a  Spirit  of  purity  ;  and  by 
 the  utmost  regard  to  His  presence  and 
 opei'ations  to  endeavour  to  retain  Him  witli 
 \is.  Chrove. 
 
 CHASTITY— Saintly. 
 
 So  dear  to  heaven  is  saintly  chastity. 
 That  when  a  soul  is  found  sincerely  so, 
 A  thousand  liv'ricd  angels  lacquey  her, 
 Driving  far  ofi'  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt. 
 Milton. 
 CHEEEFULNESS  IN  AGE. 
 
 As  oft  as  I  hear  the  robin-redbreast 
 chant  as  cheerfully  in  September,  the  begin- 
 ning of  winter,  as  in  March,  the  appioach 
 of  the  summer,  why  should  not  we  (think 
 
 I)  give  as  cheerful  entertainment  to  the 
 hoary,  frosty  hairs  of  our  age's  winter,  as 
 to  the  primroses  of  our  youth's  spring  ? 
 Why  not  to  the  declining  sun  in  adversity, 
 as  (like  Persians)  to  the  rising  sun  in  pros- 
 perity ?  I  am  sent  to  the  ant  to  learn 
 industry  ;  to  the  dove  to  learn  innocency  j 
 to  the  serpent  to  learn  wisdom ;  and  why 
 not  to  this  bird  to  learn  equanimity  and 
 patience,  and  to  keep  the  same  tenor  of  my 
 mind's  quietness  as  well  at  the  approach  of 
 calamity's  winter  as  of  the  spring  of  happi- 
 ness ?  Warioick. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS— Benefits  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  virtues,  cheerfulness  is  the 
 most  profitable.  It  makes  the  pei-son  who 
 exercises  it  happy,  and  renders  him  accept- 
 able to  all  he  meets.  While  other  virtues 
 defer  the  day  of  recompense,  cheerfulness 
 pays  down.  It  is  a  cosmetic,  which  makes 
 homeliness  graceful  and  winning ;  it  pro- 
 motes health,  and  gives  clearness  and 
 vigour  to  the  mind.  It  is  the  brighj; 
 weather  of  the  heart,  in  contrast  to  the 
 clouds  and  gloom  of  melancholy. 
 
 ;S'.  O.  Goodrich. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS— Consistency  of. 
 
 It  honours  religion,  it  proclaims  to  the 
 world  we  serve  a  good  Master :  cheerful- 
 ness is  a  friend  to  grace ;  it  puts  the  heart 
 in  tune  to  praise  God.  Uncheerful  Chris- 
 tians, like  the  spies,  bring  an  evil  report 
 on  the  good  land ;  others  suspect  there  is 
 something  unpleasant  in  religion,  that  they 
 who  profess  it  hang  their  harps  upon  the 
 willows  and  walk  so  dejectedly.  Be  serious, 
 yet  cheerful.  Kejoice  in  the  Lord  always. 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS— Fruits  of. 
 
 Cheerfulness  and  a  festival  spirit  fill  the 
 soul  full  of  harmony;  it  composes  music 
 for  churches  and  hearts ;  it  makes  and 
 publishes  glorifications  of  God  ;  it  produces 
 thankfulness,  and  serves  the  end  of  chai-ity; 
 and  when  the  oil  of  gladness  runs  over,  it 
 makes  bright  and  tall  emissions  of  light 
 and  holy  fires,  reaching  up  to  a  cloud, 
 making  joy  round  about :  and  therefore 
 since  it  is  so  innocent,  and  may  be  so  pious 
 and  full  of  holy  advantage,  whatsoever  can 
 innocently  minister  to  this  holy  joy  does 
 set  forward  the  work  of  religion  and 
 charity.  Up.  Taylor. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS— of  Mind. 
 
 Try  it  for  a  day,  I  beseech  you,  to  pre- 
 serve yourself  in  an  easy  and  cheerful  frame 
 of  mind.  Be  but  for  one  day,  instead  of  a 
 fire-worshipper  of  passion,  the  sun-wor- 
 shipper of  clear  self-possessions,  and  com- 
 pare the  day  in  which  you  have  rooted  out 
 the  weed  of  dissatisfaction  with  that  on 
 which  you  have  allowed  it  to  grow  up;  and 
 
CHILD. 
 
 107 
 
 yo;i  will  find  your  heart  open  to  every  good 
 motive,  your  life  strengthened,  and  your 
 breast  armed  with  a  panoply  against  every 
 trick  of  fate ;  truly  you  will  wonder  at  your 
 own  improvement.  Eiclder. 
 
 CHILD— Cost  of  a. 
 
 "  How  much  that  little  girl  costs !"  said 
 a  mother,  as  she  and  I  passed  a  little  child 
 leaning  against  an  iron  railing,  eagerly 
 watching  some  hoys  playing  at  marbles. 
 
 "  Costs  !"  I  said ;  "  what,  her  shoes  and 
 socks,  her  plaid  dress  and  gay  ribbons,  her 
 hat  and  feathers,  her ?" 
 
 "That  is  her  least  cost,"  replied  the 
 mother  ;  "  nor  was  I  thinking  of  that,  but 
 what  pain  and  suffering  she  costs;  what 
 fatigue  and  watching;  how  much  of  a 
 mother's  anxiety ;  how  much  of  a  father's 
 toil ;  how  many  prayers  ;  how  many  fears  ; 
 how  many  yearnings  ;  how  much  patience ; 
 hnw  much  responsibility ;  how  much  in- 
 struction ;  how  much  correction ;  how 
 much  love  ;  how  much  sorrow  ;  how  many 
 teachers;  how  many  sermons;  how  many 
 Sabbaths !  She  costs,  too,  a  dying  Re- 
 deemer!" Cameron. 
 
 CHILD— Death  of  a. 
 
 One  Sabbath  evening,  soon  after,  as  she 
 was  sitting  beside  her  parents  at  the  door 
 of  their  hut,  looking  first  for  a  long  while 
 on  their  faces,  and  then  for  a  long  while 
 on  the  sky,  though  it  was  not  yet  the 
 stated  hour  of  worship,  she  suddenly  knelt 
 down,  and  leaning  on  their  knees,  with 
 hands  clasped  more  fervently  than  her 
 wont,  she  broke  forth  into  tremulous 
 singing  of  that  hymn  which  from  her  lips 
 they  never  heard  without  unendurable 
 tears : 
 
 "  The  hour  of  my  dejDarture's  come, 
 1  hear  the  voice  that  calls  nie  homej 
 At  last,  0  Lord,  let  trouble  cease. 
 And  let  Thy  servant  die  in  peace !" 
 
 They  carried  her  fainting  to  her  little 
 bed,  and  uttered  not  a  word  to  one  another 
 till  she  revived.  TJie  shock  was  sudden, 
 but  not  unexpected,  and  they  knew  not 
 that  the  hand  of  death  was  upon  her,  al- 
 though her  eyes  soon  became  brighter  and 
 brighter,  they  thought,  than  they  had  ever 
 been  before.  But  forehead,  cheeks,  lips, 
 riCvk,  and  breast,  were  all  as  white,  and  to 
 the  quivering  hands  that  touched  them, 
 almost  as  cold  as  snow.  Ineffable  was  the 
 bliss  in  those  radiant  eyes ;  but  the  breath 
 of  words  was  frozen,  and  that  hymn  was 
 alnio.st  her  last  farewell.  Some  few  words 
 she  spake— and  named  the  Inur  and  day 
 she  wished  to  be  buried.  Her  lips  could 
 then  just  faintly  return  the  kiss,  and  no 
 more;  a  film  came  over  the  now  dim  blue 
 of  her  eyes ;  the  father  listened  for  her 
 breath,  and  then    the   mother    took    his 
 
 place,  and  leaned  her  ear  to  the  unbreathing 
 mouth,  long  deluding  herself  with  its  life- 
 like smile ;  but  a  sudden  darkness  in  the 
 room,  and  a  sudden  stillness,  most  dreadful 
 both,  convinced  their  unbelieving  hearts 
 at  last,  that  it  was  death. 
 
 Professor  Wilson. 
 
 A  delicate  child,  pale,  and  prematurely 
 wise,  was  complaining,  on  a  hot  morning, 
 that  the  poor  dewdrops  had  been  too 
 hastily  snatched  away,  and  not  allowed  to 
 glitter  on  the  flowers,  like  other  happier 
 dewdrops  that  live  the  whole  night  through, 
 and  sparkle  in  the  moonliglit,  and  through 
 the  morning  onwards  to  noonday.  "  The 
 sun,"  said  the  child,  "  has  chased  them 
 away  with  his  heat,  or  swallowed  them  in 
 his  wrath."  Soon  after  came  rain  and  a 
 rainbow,  whereupon  his  father  pointed  up- 
 wards :  "  See,"  said  he,  "  there  stand  thy 
 dewdrops,  gloriously  reset,  a  glittering 
 jewellery  in  the  heavens,  and  the  clownish 
 foot  tramples  on  them  no  more.  By  this, 
 my  child,  thou  art  taught,  that  what 
 withers  on  earth  blooms  again  in  heaven." 
 Thus  the  father  spoke,  and  knew  not  that 
 he  spoke  prefiguring  words ;  for  soon  after, 
 the  delicate  child,  with  the  morning  bright- 
 ness of  his  earthly  wisdom,  was  exhaled, 
 like  a  dewdrop  into  heaven.  Richter. 
 
 A  shepherd  was  mourning  over  the 
 death  of  his  favorite  child,  ami,  in  the 
 passionate  and  rebellious  feelings  of  his 
 heart,  was  bitterly  complaining  that  what 
 he  loved  most  tenderly,  and  was  in  itself 
 most  lovely,  had  been  taken  from  him. 
 Suddenly  a  stranger  of  grave  and  vene- 
 rable appearance  stood  before  him,  and 
 beckoned  him  forth  into  the  field.  It  was 
 night,  and  not  a  word  was  spoken  till  they 
 arrived  at  the  fold,  when  the  stranger  thus 
 addressed  him  : — "  When  you  select  one  of 
 these  lambs  from  the  flock,  you  choose  the 
 best  and  most  beautiful  among  them. 
 Why  should  you  murmur  because  I,  the 
 Good  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  have  selected 
 from  those  which  you  have  nourished  for 
 me  the  one  that  was  most  fitted  for  my 
 eternal  fold  ?"  The  mysterious  stranger 
 w  as  seen  no  more,  and  the  father's  heart 
 was  comforted.  Anon. 
 
 CHILD — Description  of  a. 
 
 Thou  little  child, 
 Thy  mother's  joy,  thy  father's  hope — thou 
 
 bright. 
 Pure  dwelling,  wdiere  two  fond  hearts  keep 
 
 their  gladness; 
 Tliou  little  potentate  of  love,  who  comest 
 With  solemn  sweet  dominion  to  the  old, 
 Who  see  thee  in  thy  merry  fancies  charged 
 With    the  grave  embassage  of  that  dear 
 
 past, 
 
108 
 
 CHILD— CHILDHOOD. 
 
 When  they  were  young  like  thee — thou 
 
 vimlication 
 Of  God — thou   living  witness  against  all 
 
 men 
 Who  have   been  babes — thou  everlasting 
 
 pi-omise 
 Which  no  man  keeps — thou  portrait  of  our 
 
 nature, 
 Which  in  des])air  and  pride  we  scorn  and 
 
 worship — 
 Thou  household  god,  whom  no  iconoclast 
 Hatii  broken  !  Bobell. 
 
 CHILD— A  Dying. 
 
 A  child  lay  dying.  Feeling  unusual 
 sensations,  she  says,  "  iManima,  what  is  the 
 matter  with  me  ?" 
 
 Mother. — My  child,  you  are  dying  ! 
 
 C///W.— Well,  mamma,  what  is  dying? 
 
 Mother. — To  you,  dear  child,  it  is  going 
 to  heaven. 
 
 Child. — Wliere  is  heaven  ? 
 
 Mother. — It  is  where  God  is,  and  Christ, 
 and  the  Holy  Gliost,  and  the  angels,  and 
 the  good  men  made  perfect. 
 
 Child. — But,  mamma,  I  am  not  ac- 
 quainted with  any  of  those,  and  I  do  not 
 like  to  go  alone  ;  won't  you  go  with  me  ? 
 
 Mother. — O,  Mary,  I  cannot ;  God  has 
 called  you  only,  not  me  now. 
 
 Turning  to  the  father,  she  asked  the 
 same  question  ;  then,  piteously  appealing 
 to  each  of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  she  re- 
 peated the  same  interrogatory,  and  re- 
 ceived the  same  response.  She  then  fell 
 into  a  gentle  slumber,  from  which  she 
 awoke  in  a  transport  of  joy,  saying,  "You 
 need  not  go  to  heaven  with  me ;  I  can  go 
 alone.  I  have  been  there,  and  grand- 
 mamma is  there,  and  grandpapa  is  there, 
 and  aunt  Martha ;"  and  with  a  sweet  smile, 
 and  a  countenance  bright  as  with  the  glory 
 of  opening  heaven,  looking  upward,  and 
 whispering,  "  Yes,  I  am  coming,"  she 
 passed  away.  Dr.  Thomson. 
 
 Put  your  arm  around  me,  mother, 
 Draw  your  chair  beside  my  bed; 
 
 Let  me  lean  upon  your  bosom 
 This  poor  weary,  aching  head. 
 
 Once  I  thought  I  could  not  leave  you. 
 
 Once  I  was  afraid  to  die ; 
 Now  I  feel  'tis  Jesus  calls  me 
 
 To  His  mansions  in  the  sky.       Anon. 
 
 CHILD— A  Happy. 
 
 Befurchte,  gardener  to  Elizabeth,  consort 
 of  Frederick  II,  had  one  little  daughter, 
 with  whose  religious  instruction  he  had 
 taken  great  pains.  When  this  child  was 
 live  years  of  age,  the  queen  saw  her  one  day 
 while  visiting  the  royal  gardens  at  Shon- 
 hausen,  and  was  so  much  pleased  with  her 
 that  a  week  afterwards  she  expressed  a 
 wish  to  see  the  Utile  girl  again.    The  father 
 
 accordingly  brought  his  artless  child  to  the 
 palace,  and  a  page  conducted  her  into  the 
 royal  presence.  She  approached  the  queen 
 with  untaught  courtesy,  kissed  her  robe 
 and  modestly  took  the  seat  which  had  been 
 placed  for  her,  by  the  queen's  order,  near 
 her  own  person.  From  this  position  she 
 could  overlook  the  table  at  which  the  queen 
 was  dining  with  the  ladies  of  her  court, 
 and  they  watched  with  interest  to  see  the 
 eliiect  of  so  much  splendour  on  the  simple 
 child.  She  looked  carelessly  on  the  costly 
 dresses  of  the  guests,  the  gold  and  porce- 
 lain on  the  table,  and  the  pomp  with  which 
 all  was  conducted  ;  and  then,  folding  her 
 hands,  she  sang,  with  a  clear,  child-like 
 voice,  these  words : — 
 
 "  Jesus,  Thy  blood  and  righteousness 
 Are  all  my  ornament  and  dress ; 
 Fearless,  with  these  pure  garments  on, 
 I'll  view  the  splendours  of  Thy  throne  !" 
 
 All  the  assembly  were  struck  with  surprise 
 at  seeing  so  much  feeling,  penetration,  and 
 piety  in  one  so  young.  Tears  filled  the 
 eyes  of  the  ladies,  and  Ihe  queen  exclaimed, 
 "  Ah,  hapijy  child  !  how  far  are  we  below 
 you  !"  Br.  Haven. 
 
 CHILD— Loveliness  of  a. 
 A  lovely  being,  scarcely  formed  or  moulded, 
 A  rose  with   all   its   sweetest   leaves   yet 
 folded.  Lord  Byron. 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Flight  of. 
 
 Gather  the  rosebuds  while  ye  may. 
 
 Old  time  is  still  a-flying  ; 
 And  that  same  llower  that  blooms  to-day 
 
 To-morrow  shall  be  dying.  HerricJc. 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Foreshadowing  of. 
 The  childhood  shows  the  man, 
 As  morning  shows  the  day.  Milton. 
 
 CHILDHOOD- Happiness  of. 
 Thine  was  the  shout,  the   song,  the  burst 
 of  joy. 
 Which  sweet  from   childhood's  rosy  lip 
 resoundeth ; 
 Thine  was  the  eager  spirit  nought  could 
 cloy. 
 And  the  glad  heart  from  which  all  grief 
 rebouudeth.  Mrs.  Norton, 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Mystery  of. 
 
 It  is  a  mystery  to  us  whether  the  acorn 
 which  is  now  wafted  by  the  sportive  winds 
 into  the  cleft  of  the  yawning  precipice 
 shall  moulder  to  dust  on  its  hard  bed,  or 
 whether  it  shall  take  root,  spring  up,  and, 
 in  the  lapse  of  ages,  become  the  stately  oak 
 to  adorn  the  mountain's  brow,  or  to  form 
 part  of  the  noble  vessel  destined  to  plough 
 the  billows  of  ocean,  or  to  yield  material 
 for  ceiling  the  roof  of  palaces ; — a  mystei'y 
 
CHILDHOOD— CHILDREN. 
 
 109 
 
 whether  the  pjrain  of  corn  which  is  now 
 borne  under  the  phimapje  of  the  bird  of 
 passage  shall  drop  into  the  pathless  deep, 
 and  there  perish  amidst  its  restless  waves, 
 or  whether  it  shall  be  carried  to  some 
 distant  desert  land,  there  to  grow  up,  and 
 bear  fruit,  and,  in  the  sweep  of  time,  to 
 cover  the  vast  regions  of  the  globe  with 
 the  glorious  honours  of  harvest ;  and  it  is 
 a  mystery  whether  the  forest  foliage  which 
 yesterday  fell  at  your  feet  shall  lie  and  rot 
 amidst  the  rubbish  of  centuries,  or  whether 
 it  shall  be  deeply  treasured  up  for  geo- 
 logical ages  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
 until  it  petrify  into  that  combustible 
 mineral  wliich  shall  warm  the  hearths,  and 
 cheer  the  homes,  of  unborn  genei-ations  : 
 and  so  it  is  a  mystery  whether  the  babe 
 of  a  span  long,  who  now  lies  in  the  lap  of 
 its  mother's  love,  shall  turn  out  for  weal 
 or  for  woe,  shall  prove  a  blessing  or  a 
 curse  to  herself  and  to  the  world. 
 
 J.  Hutchinson. 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Recollection  of. 
 
 Ah,  happy  hill !  ah,  pleasing  shade  ! 
 
 Ah,  tields  beloved  in  vain  ! 
 Where  once  my  careless  childhood  stray'd, 
 
 A  stranger  yet  to  pain  ! 
 I  feel  the  gales  that  from  ye  blow 
 A  momentary  bliss  bestow. 
 
 As  waving  forth  their  gladsome  wings ; 
 My  weary  soul  they  seem  to  soothe, 
 And,  redolent  of  joy  and  youth, 
 
 To  breathe  a  second  spring.       T.  Gray. 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Reminiscences  of. 
 
 In  my  poor  mind  it  is  most  sweet  to  muse 
 Upon  the  days  gone  by — to  act  in  thought 
 Past  seasons  o'er,  and  be  again  a  child; 
 To  sit  in  fiincy  on  the  turf-clad  slope, 
 Down  which  the  child  would  roll ; 
 
 To  pluck  gay  flowers. 
 Make  posies  in  the  sun,  which  the  child's 
 
 hand. 
 (Childhood  offended  soon,  soon  reconciled) 
 Would  throw  away,  and  straight  take  up 
 
 again, 
 Then  fling  them  to  the  winds ;  and  up  the 
 
 lawn. 
 Bound  with  so  playful  and  so  light  a  step. 
 That  the  pressed  daisy  scarce  declined  her 
 
 head.  C.  Lamb. 
 
 CHILDHOOD— Seriousness  in. 
 
 When  I  was  yet  a  child,  no  childish  play 
 To  me  was  pleasing ;  all  my  mind  was  set 
 Serious    to  learn  and   know,  and  thence 
 
 to  do 
 Wliat   might  be  public  good  :    myself  I 
 
 thought 
 Born   to   that  end — born  to  promote  all 
 
 truth 
 And  righteous  things.  Milton. 
 
 CHILDHOOD- Tears  of. 
 
 The  tear  down  childhood's  cheek  that  flows 
 Is  like  the  dewdrop  on  the  rose  ; 
 When  next  the  summer  breeze  comes  by. 
 And  waves  the  bush,  the  flower  is  dry. 
 
 Sir  W.  Scott. 
 
 CHILDREN— a  Blessing. 
 
 I  remember  a  great  man  coming  into  my 
 house  at  Waltham,  and  seeing  all  my  chil- 
 dren standing  in  the  order  of  their  age  and 
 stature,  said,  "These  are  they  that  make 
 rich  men  poor."  But  he  straight  re- 
 ceived this  answer,  "Nay,  my  lord,  these 
 are  they  that  make  a  poor  man  rich ;  for 
 there  is  not  one  of  these  whom  we  would 
 part  with  for  all  your  wealth,"  It  is  easy 
 to  observe  that  none  are  so  gripple  and 
 hardfisted  as  the  childless ;  whereas  those 
 who,  for  the  maintenance  of  large  families, 
 are  inured  to  frequent  disbursements,  find 
 such  experience  of  Divine  Providence  in 
 the  faithful  management  of  their  afl'airs,  as 
 that  they  lay  out  with  more  cheerfulness 
 what  they  receive.  Wherein  their  care 
 must  be  abated  when  God  takes  it  oil'  from 
 thein  to  Himself;  and,  if  they  be  not  want- 
 ing to  themselves,  their  faith  gives  them 
 ease  in  casting  their  burden  upon  Him,  whcr 
 hath  more  power  and  more  right  to  it,  since 
 our  children  are  more  His  than  our  own. 
 He  that  feedeth  the  young  ravens  (Psulm 
 cxlvii,  9),  can  He  fail  the  best  of  His  crea- 
 tures ?  Jija.  Hall. 
 
 CHILDREN— Catechising. 
 
 The  Jewish  Rabbins  observe  a  very 
 strict  method  in  the  instruction  of 
 children  and  others,  according  to  their  age 
 and  capacity.  At  five  years  old  they  were 
 called  sons  of  the  law,  to  read  it.  At  thir- 
 teen they  were  called  sons  of  the  precept,  to 
 understand  the  law ;  then  they  received  the 
 passover  as  a  sacrament  (for  even  children 
 did  eat  it,  as  a  remembrance  of  their  deli- 
 verance out  of  Egypt),  and  then  also  they 
 were  purified.  At  fifteen  years  old  they 
 came  to  be  Talmudists,  and  went  to  deeper 
 points  of  the  law,  the  Talinudich  doubts. 
 Thus  did  the  Jews  ;  and  let  not  Christians 
 lag  behind  them  in  propagating  the  truths 
 of  Jesus  Christ  their  Master.  Let  children 
 be  well  instructed,  principled,  and  cate- 
 chised in  the  fundamentals  of  the  Christian 
 religion  ;  for  without  catechising,  the 
 people  perish  in  the  want  of  knowledge, 
 and  become  fit  subjects  for  every  priest, 
 Jesuit,  and  sectary  to  work  upon.  The 
 papists  have  confessed  that  all  the  ground 
 we  have  gotten  of  them  is  by  catechism, 
 and  the  little  ground  they  have  gotten  of 
 us  is  by  a  more  diligent  requiring  and 
 practice  of  it.  In  a  word,  catechising  is  as 
 well  a  family  as  a  church  duty ;  were  but 
 the  family  well-instructed,  the  minister 
 would  have  less  work  to  do ;  there  would 
 
110 
 
 CHILDHEir. 
 
 not  be  so  many  micatechised  heads,  nor  so 
 many  weather-cock  Christians,  as  now  are 
 to  be  found  amongst  us.  Spencer. 
 
 CHILDREN— Charms  of. 
 
 I  am  fond  of  children.  I  think  them 
 the  poetry  of  the  world — the  fresh  flowers 
 of  our  hearts  and  homes ;  little  conjurors, 
 with  their  "  natural  magic,"  evoking  by 
 their  spells  what  delights  and  eul'iches  all 
 ranks,  and  equalises  the  different  classes  of 
 society.  Often  as  they  bring  with  them 
 anxieties  and  cares,  and  live  to  occasion 
 sorrow  and  grief,  we  should  get  on  very 
 badly  without  them.  T.  Binney. 
 
 CHILDEEIT — Conversation  before. 
 
 It  is  always  well  to  avoid  saying  every- 
 thing that  is  improper;  but  it  is  especially 
 so  before  children.  And  here  parents,  as 
 well  as  others,  are  often  in  fault.  Children 
 have  as  many  ears  as  grown  people,  and 
 they  are  generally  more  attentive  to  what 
 is  said  before  them.  What  they  hear,  they 
 are  very  apt  to  repeat;  and  as  they  have 
 no  discretion,  and  not  sufficient  knowledge 
 of  the  world  to  disguise  anything,  it  is 
 generally  found  that  "children  and  fools 
 speak  the  truth."  See  that  boy's  eyes 
 glisten  while  you  are  speaking  of  a  neigh- 
 bour in  a  language  you  would  not  wish  to 
 have  repeated.  He  does  not  fully  under- 
 stand what  you  mean,  but  he  will  remember 
 every  word ;  and  it  will  be  strange  if  he 
 does  not  cause  you  to  blush  by  the  repe- 
 tition. 
 
 A  gentleman  was  in  the  habit  of  calling 
 at  a  neighbour's  house,  and  the  lady  had 
 always  expressed  to  him  great  pleasure 
 from  his  calls.  One  day,  just  after  she  had 
 remarked  to  him,  as  usual,  her  happiness 
 from  his  visit,  her  little  boy  entered  the 
 room.  The  gentleman  took  him  on  his 
 knee  and  asked,  "  Are  you  not  glad  to  see 
 me,  George  ?"  "No,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 
 "  Why  not,  my  little  man  ?"  he  continued. 
 "  Bfcause  mother  don't  want  yoci  to  come," 
 said  George.  "  Indeed !  how  do  you  know 
 that,  George  ?"  Here  the  molaer  became 
 crimson,  and  looked  daggers  at  her  little 
 son.  But  he  saw  nothing,  arid  therefore 
 replied,  "  Because  she  said,  yesterday,  she 
 wished  that  old  bore  would  not  call  here 
 again."  That  was  enough.  The  gentle- 
 man's hat  was  soon  in  requisition,  and  he 
 left  with  the  impression  that  "  great  is  the 
 truth,  and  it  will  prevail." 
 
 Another  little  child  looked  sharply  in  the 
 iiice  of  a  visitor,  and  being  asked  what  she 
 meant  by  it,  replied,  "  I  wanted  to  see  if 
 you  had  a  drop  in  your  eye ;  I  heard  mother 
 say  you  had  frequently." 
 
 A  boy  once  asked  one  of  his  father's 
 guests  who  it  was  that  lived  next  door  to 
 him,  and  when  he  heard  his  name,  inquired 
 if  he  was  not  a  fool.  "No,  my  little  friend," 
 
 replied  the  guest,  "he  is  not  a  fool,  but  a 
 very  sensible  man.  But  why  did  you  ask 
 that  question  ?"  "  Because,"  replied  the 
 boy,  "  mother  said,  the  other  day,  that  you 
 were  next  door  to  a  fool ;  and  I  wanted  to 
 know  who  lived  next  door  to  you." 
 
 Br.  Saven. 
 CHILDREN— Conversion  of. 
 
 There  are  very  many  who  have  no  great 
 faith  about  the  conversion  of  children. 
 They  look  on  a  converted  child  as  a  sort  of 
 vara  avis,  to  be  put  into  a  museum  of 
 natural  curiosities.  Others  believe  it  to  be 
 very  possible  and  very  desirable,  but  yet 
 they  have  a  strong  suspicion  of  the  piety 
 of  any  child  who  is  brought  to  believe  on 
 the  Lord  Jesus.  Why  there  should  be 
 such  suspicion  I  cannot  tell.  The  advan- 
 tage is  rather  on  the  side  of  the  child  than 
 the  adult.  Of  two  cases  of  conversion,  one 
 at  thirteen,  and  the  other  at  sixty,  I  would 
 look  on  the  elder  with  the  greatest  suspi- 
 cion. I  have  during  the  past  year  bap- 
 tized as  many  as  forty  or  fifty  children, 
 and  of  all  those  whom  I  have  talked  with 
 on  the  subject  of  their  conversion,  I  have 
 never  proposed  any  for  church  fellowship 
 with  greater  satisfaction  than  I  have  done 
 these  little  ones.  Amongst  those  I  have 
 had  at  any  time  to  exclude  from  church 
 fellowship,  out  of  a  church  of  2700  mem- 
 bers, I  have  never  had  to  exclude  one  who 
 was  received  into  the  church  while  yet  a 
 child.  C.  K.  Spurgeon. 
 
 CHILDREN— Death  of. 
 
 Our  children  that  die  young  are  like 
 those  spring  bulbs  which  have  their  flowers 
 prepared  beforehand,  and  leave  nothing  to 
 do  but  to  break  ground,  and  blossom,  and 
 pass  away.  Thank  God  for  spring  flowers 
 among  men,  as  well  as  among  the  grasses 
 of  the  field.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 The  horticiilturist,  in  order  to  preserve 
 his  choicest  flowers  from  the  nipping  power 
 of  the  frost,  or  the  scorching  influence  of 
 the  sun,  removes  them  into  a  place  pro- 
 vided for  the  purpose ;  so  God,  to  preserve 
 the  tender  spirits  of  our  children  from  the 
 evils  of  this  world,  sometimes  transplants 
 them  to  the  fail-  and  happy  clime  of  heaven. 
 John  Bate, 
 
 Mr.  Newton,  of  London,  one  day  said  to 
 a  gentleman  who  bad  lately  lost  a  daughter 
 by  death,  "  Sir,  if  you  were  going  to  the 
 East  Indies,  I  suppose  you  would  like  to 
 send  a  remittance  before  you.  This  little 
 girl  is  just  like  a  remittance  sent  to  heaven 
 before  you  go  yourself.  I  suppose  a  mer- 
 chant on  change  is  never  heard  expressing 
 himself  thus  : — '  O  my  dear  ship,  I  am  sorry 
 she  has  got  into  port  so  soon  !  I  am  sorry 
 she  has  escaped  the  storms  that  are  coming!' 
 
CHILDREN. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Neithei-   sbould   we    sorrow   for   cliilclren 
 dying."  J.  Whitecross. 
 
 Two  little  birds  had  a  nest  in  the  bushes 
 in  the  back  part  of  the  garden.  Julia 
 found  the  nest.  It  had  some  speckled  eggs 
 in  it — one,  two,  threo,  four.  But  she  did 
 not  trouble  the  nest,  or  distress  the  dear 
 little  birds.  One  day,  after  she  had  been 
 away  some  time,  down  she  ran  into  the 
 garden  to  take  a  peep  at  the  four  little 
 speckled  eggs.  Instead  of  the  beautiful 
 eggs,  there  were  only  broken,  empty  shells. 
 "  Oh !"  said  she,  picking  out  the  pieces, 
 "the  beautiful  eggs  are  all  spoiled  and 
 broken  \" 
 
 "  No,  Julia,"  replied  her  brother,  "  they 
 are  not  spoiled  ;  the  best  part  of  them  has 
 taken  wings  and  flown  away." 
 
 When  your  children  die,  you  maybe  dis- 
 posed to  look  upon  them  as  Julia  looked 
 upon  the  eggs ;  but  take  comfort,  Christian 
 parents ;  the  bodies  of  your  children  are 
 only  the  empty  shells ;  the  souls,  the  better 
 parts,  have  taken  wing,'  and  fled  away  to 
 brighter  and  happier  climes.      John  Bate. 
 
 There  is  a  Reaper  whose  name  is  Death, 
 
 And  with  his  sickle  keen 
 He  reaps  the  beai-ded  grain  at  a  breath, 
 
 And  the  flowers  that  grow  between. 
 
 "  Shall  I  have  naught  that  is  fair  ?"  saith 
 he; 
 "  Have  naught  but  the  bearded  grain  ? 
 Though  the  breath  of  these  flowers  is  sweet 
 to  uie, 
 I  give  them  all  back  again." 
 
 He  gazed  at  the  flowers  with  tearful  eyes. 
 He  kissed  their  drooping  leaves, 
 
 It  was  for  the  Lord  of  Paradise 
 He  bound  them  in  his  sheaves. 
 
 "The  Lord  hath  need  of  these  flow'rets 
 gay." 
 
 The  Reaper  said,  and  smiled ; 
 "  Dear  tokens  of  the  earth  are  they. 
 
 Where  He  was  once  a  child. 
 
 «  They  shall  all  bloom  in  fields  of  light. 
 
 Transplanted  by  my  care. 
 And  saints,  upon  their  garments  white. 
 
 Those  sacred  blossoms  wear." 
 
 And  the  mother  gave,  in  tears  and  pain, 
 The  flowers  she  most  did  love  ; 
 
 She  knew  she  could  have  them  all  again 
 In  the  fields  of  light  above. 
 
 Oh  !  not  in  cruelty,  not  in  wrath, 
 
 The  Reaper  came  that  day ; 
 'Twas  an  angel  visited  the  green  earth. 
 
 And  took  the  flow'rs  away.    Longfellow. 
 
 CHILDREN— Education  of. 
 
 They  who  have    to  educate    children 
 
 should  keep  in  mind  that  boys  are  to  be- 
 come men,  and  that  girls  are  to  become 
 women.  The  neglect  of  this  momentous 
 consideration  gives  us  a  race  of  moral  her- 
 maphrodites. Hare. 
 
 Delightful    task  !     to     rear    the    tender 
 
 thought. 
 To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot. 
 To   pour   the   fresh  instruction    o'er   the 
 
 mind, 
 To  breathe  the  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
 The    generous    purpose    in    the    glowing 
 
 breast.  Thomson. 
 
 CHILDREN— Faults  of. 
 
 Ah,  these  children,  little  witches,  pretty- 
 even  in  all  their  faults  and  absurdities.  See, 
 for  example,  yonder,  a  little  fellow  in  a 
 naughty  lit.  He  has  shaken  his  long  curls 
 over  his  deep-blue  eyes;  the  fair  brow  is 
 bent  in  a  frown,  the  rose-leaf  lip  is  pursed 
 up  in  defiance,  and  the  white  shoulder 
 thrust  angrily  forward.  Can  any  but  a 
 child  look  so  pretty,  even  in  its  naughti- 
 ness? Then  comes  the  instant  change — 
 the  flashing  smiles  and  tears,  ais  the  good 
 comes  back  all  in  a  rush,  and  you  are  over- 
 whelmed with  protestations,  promises,  and 
 kisses  !  They  are  irresistible,  too,  these 
 little  ones.  They  pull  away  the  scholar's 
 pen,  tumble  about  his  paper,  make  somer- 
 sets over  his  books ;  and  what  can  he  do  ? 
 They  tear  up  newspapers,  litter  the  car- 
 pets, break,  pull,  and  upset,  and  then 
 jabber  unheard-of  English  in  self-defence  ; 
 and  what  can  you  do  for  yourself?  "  If  I 
 had  a  child,"  says  the  jirecise  man,  "  you 
 should  see."  He  does  have  a  child,  and 
 his  child  tears  up  his  paper,  tumbles  over 
 his  things,  and  pulls  his  nose,  like  all  other 
 children  ;  and  what  has  the  precise  man  to 
 say  for  himself  ?  Nothing  ;  he  is  like 
 everybody  else;  "a  little  child  shall  lead 
 him."  3Irs.  S.  B.  Stowe 
 
 CHILDREN— in  Heaven. 
 
 Children  are  the  hands  by  which  we  take 
 hold  of  heaven.  By  these  tendrils  we  clasp 
 it  and  climb  thitherward.  And  why  do  we 
 think  that  we  are  separated  from  them  ? 
 We  never  half  knew  them,  nor  in  this  world 
 could.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 A  child  mounted  on  the  shoulder  of  a 
 man  may  see  further  than  the  man  him- 
 self; or  a  youth  standing  on  the  top  of  a 
 hUl  may  see  more  than  a  giant  at  its  base ; 
 even  so  the  little  ones  that  Jesus  has  taken 
 to  Himself  in  heaven  may  know  more  of  the 
 things  of  God  than  the  wise,  the  prudent, 
 and  the  mighty,  who  live  in  this  valley  of 
 mists  and  shadows.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHILDREN— Indulgence  of. 
 
 We  would  ofi'cr  a  word  of  caution  against 
 
112 
 
 CHILDEEN. 
 
 the  practice  of  excessive  indiilgence.  This 
 is  a  great  evil,  and  one  much  to  be  dreaded 
 and  guarded  against.  It  is  much  worse 
 than  severity  and  stern  reserve,  and  parents 
 are  much  more  liable  to  fall  into  it  than 
 into  the  other.  They  are  prone  to  cherish 
 an  undue  tenderness  towards  those  who 
 are  bone  of  their  bone  and  flesh  of  their 
 flesh.  But  still  it  is  productive  of  much 
 evil ;  it  disposes  parents  to  overlook  the 
 faults  and  follies  of  their  children,  and 
 renders  them  unwilling  to  correct  or  re- 
 prove them.  And  multitudes  of  children, 
 of  every  generation,  who  might  have  been 
 the  pride  of  their  parents,  have  been  im- 
 molated to  this  effeminate  idol.  This  was 
 the  case  with  the  ungodly  family  of  good 
 old  Eli,  the  Jewish  high  priest.  He  was 
 a  good  man,  but  a  weak  and  irresolute 
 father,  and  so  foolishly  fond  of  And  indul- 
 gent to  his  children  that  he  restrained 
 them  from  no  evil;  and  they  became  so 
 vile  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  that  both 
 parent  and  child  were  visited  with  signal 
 judgment  from  on  high.  God  deprived  the 
 father  and  his  posterity  for  ever  of  the 
 oflice  of  priesthood,  and  visited  his  two 
 sons,  Hophni  and  Phinehas,  with  the 
 punishment  of  death,  and  thus  filled  his 
 household  with  disgrace  and  afiliction. 
 And  look  at  the  domestic  circle  of  David, 
 the  man  after  God's  own  heart.  He  was 
 an  over-indulgent  father,  and  what  was  the 
 consequence  ?  His  family  went  to  ruin. 
 His  eldest  son,  Amnon,  was  guilty  of  a 
 crime  which  modesty  forbids  to  name ; 
 Absalom  rose  in  rebellion  against  him,  and 
 threatened  to  pull  the  throne  from  under- 
 neath him  and  the  crown  from  off  his 
 head,  and  the  result  was  untimely  death  to 
 one,  and  inconsolable  grief  to  the  other; 
 and  Adonijah,  his  darling  son,  plotted 
 against  the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne,  and 
 usurped  the  kingdom  even  before  his 
 father's  death.  Such  was  the  rew.ird  of  a 
 father's  undue  fondling.  Indeed,  we  seldom 
 read  of  a  man  rising  to  honour  and  eminence 
 who  had  been  so  spoiled  in  the  days  of  his 
 boyhood.  It  did  much  to  retard  the  men- 
 tal improvement  of  young  Wilberforce,  the 
 distinguished  advocate  of  the  slave;  and  it 
 had  well  nigh  marred  the  success  of  the 
 celebrated  author  of  'The  Wealth  of 
 Nations.'  And  Solomon's  voice  cries  loud 
 against  it.  He  says,  "  Se  that  spareih 
 the  rod  hateth  the  chihl.  Foolishness  is 
 bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child,  lid  the 
 rod  of  correction  shall  drive  it  far  from 
 him.  Thou  shalt  beat  him  with  the  rod, 
 and  deliver  his  soul  from  hell.  The  rod  and 
 reproof  give  loisdom,  but  a  child  left  to 
 himself  hringeth  his  mother  to  shame.  Cor- 
 rect thy  son,  and  he  shall  give  thee  rest; 
 yea,  he  shall  give  delight  to  thif  soul." 
 
 J.  Hutchinson. 
 
 CHILDSEN— Loss  of. 
 Weep  not  for  those  whom  the  veil  of  the 
 tomb 
 In  life's  happy  morning  hath  hid  from 
 our  eyes, 
 Ere   sin   threw   a  blight  o'er  the  spirit's 
 young  bloom. 
 Or  earth  had  profaned  what  was  born  for 
 the  skies. 
 Death  chill'd  the  fair  fountain  ere  sorrow 
 had  stain'd  it, 
 'Twas  frozen  in  all  the  pure  light  of  its 
 course, 
 And  but  sleeps  till  the  sunshine  of  heaven 
 has  unchain'd  it, 
 To  water  that  Eden  where  first  was  its 
 source.  T.  Moore. 
 
 CHILDREN— Church  Membership  of. 
 
 What,  then,  is  this  infant  membership  ? 
 What  conception  can  we  take  of  it  which 
 will  justify  its  Christian  dignity  ?  A  great 
 many  persons  who  are  very  sharp  at  this 
 kind  of  criticism,  appear  to  have  never 
 observed  that  creatures  existing  under  con- 
 ditions of  growth  allow  no  such  terms  of 
 classification  as  those  do  which  are  dead, 
 and  have  no  growth ;  such,  for  example,  as 
 stones,  metals,  and  earths.  They  are  certain 
 that  gold  is  not  iron,  and  iron  is  not  silver, 
 and  they  suppose  that  they  can  class  the 
 growing  and  transitional  creatures,  that 
 are  separated  by  no  absolute  lines,  in  the 
 same  manner.  They  talk  of  colts  and 
 horses,  lambs  and  sheep,  and  it  possibly 
 not  once  occurs  to  them  that  they  can 
 never  tell  when  the  colt  becomes  a  horse, 
 or  the  lamb  a  sheep ;  and  that  about  the 
 most  definite  thing  they  can  say,  when 
 pressed  with  that  question,  is  that  the  colt 
 is  potentially  a  horse,  the  lamb  a  sheep, 
 even  from  the  first,  having  in  itself  this 
 definite  futurition;  and,  therefore,  that 
 while  horses  and  sheep  are  not  all  to  be 
 classed  as  colts  and  lambs,  all  colts  and 
 lambs  may  be  classed  as  horses  and  sheep. 
 And  just  so  children  are  all  men  and 
 women ;  and  if  there  is  the  law  of  futuri- 
 tion in  them  to  justify  it,  may  be  fitly 
 classed  as  believing  men  and  women.  And 
 all  the  sharp  arguments  that  go  to  cover 
 their  membership  as  such  in  the  church 
 with  absurdity,  or  to  turn  it  into  derision, 
 are  just  such  arguments  as  the  inventors 
 could  raise  with  equal  point  to  ridicule  the 
 horsehood  and  sheephood  of  the  young 
 animals  just  referred  to.  The  propriety  of 
 this  membership  does  not  lie  in  what  those 
 infants  can  or  cannot  believe,  or  do  or  do 
 not  believe,  at  some  given  time,  as,  for  ex- 
 ample, on  the  day  of  their  baptism ;  but  it 
 lies  in  the  covenant  of  promise,  which 
 makes  their  parents  parents  in  the  Lord ; 
 their  nurture  a  nurture  of  the  Lord,  and 
 so   constitutes   a  force    of  futurition    by 
 
CHILDREN. 
 
 113 
 
 which  they  are  to  grow  up  imperceptibly 
 int;)  "  faithfuls  among  faithfuls,"  in  Christ 
 
 Jesus The  conception,  then,  of  this 
 
 membership  is,  that  it  is  potentially  a  real 
 one ;  that  it  stands,  for  the  present,  in  the 
 faith  of  the  parents  and  the  promise  which 
 is  to  them  and  to  their  children,  and  that 
 on  this  ground  they  may  well  enough  be 
 accounted  believers,  just  as  they  are  ac- 
 counted potentially  men  and  women. 
 Then,  as  they  come  forward  into  maturity, 
 it  is  to  be  assumed  that  they  will  come 
 forward  into  faith,  being  grown  in  the 
 nurture  of  faith,  and  will  claim  for  them- 
 selves the  membership  into  which  they 
 were  before  inserted. 
 
 Nor  is  this  a  case  which  has  no  analogies 
 that  it  should  be  held  up  as  a  mark  of  de- 
 rision. It  is  generally  supposed  that  our 
 common  law  has  some  basis  of  common 
 sense.  And  yet  this  body  of  law  makes 
 every  infant  child  a  citizen  ;  requiring,  as 
 a  point  of  public  order,  the  whole  con- 
 stabulary and  even  military  force  of  the 
 state  to  come  to  the  rescue  or  the  redress 
 of  his  wrongs,  when  his  person  is  seized  or 
 property  invaded  by  conspiracy.  This  in- 
 fant child  can  sue  and  be  sued;  for  the 
 Court  of  Chancery  will  appoint  him  a 
 guardian,  whose  acts  shall  be  the  child's 
 acts ;  and  it  shall  be  as  if  he  were  answer- 
 ing for  his  own  education,  dress,  board, 
 entertainments,  and  the  damages  done  by 
 his  servants,  precisely  as  if  he  were  a  man 
 acting  in  his  own  cause.  Doubtless  it  may 
 sound  very  absurdly  to  call  him  a  citizen. 
 What  can  he  do  as  a  citizen  ?  He  cannot 
 vote  or  bear  arms ;  he  does  not  even  know 
 what  these  things  mean,  and  yet  he  is  a 
 citizen.  In  one  view  he  votes,  bears  arms, 
 legislates,  even  in  his  cradle ;  for  the  poten- 
 tiality is  in  him,  and  the  state  takes  him 
 up  in  her  arms,  as  it  were,  to  own  him  as 
 her  citizen.  ^__  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 Again,  it  would  be  most  remarkable  if 
 Christianity,  organizing  a  fold  of  grace 
 and  love,  in  the  world  and  for  it,  had  yet 
 no  place  in  the  fold  for  children.  It  spreads 
 its  arms  to  say,  "For  God  so  loved  the 
 world,"  and  even  declares  that  publicans 
 and  harlots  shall  flock  in  before  the  cap- 
 tious priest  and  princes  of  the  day;  and 
 yet  it  has  no  place,  we  are  told,  for  children 
 — children  are  out  of  the  category  of  grace  ! 
 Jesus  Himself  was  a  child,  and  went 
 through  all  the  phases  and  conditions  of 
 childhood,  not  to  show  anything  by  that 
 fact,  as  the  Christian  fathers  fondly  sup- 
 posed ;  He  said,  too, "  Suli'er  little  children," 
 but  this  was  only  His  human  feeling ;  He 
 had  no  official  relationsliip  to  such,  and  no 
 particular  grace  for  them !  They  are  all 
 outside  the  salvation  fold,  hardening  there 
 in  the  storm,  till  their  choosing,  refusing, 
 desiring,  ruining  power  is  suflicieutly  un- 
 
 folded to  have  a  place  assigned  the.n 
 within !  Is  this  Christianity  'i  Is  it  a 
 preparation  so  clumsy,  so  little  human,  so 
 imperfectly  graduated  to  man  as  he  is,  that 
 it  has  no  place  for  a  full  sixth  part  of  the 
 human  race — a  part  also  to  which  the 
 other  five  sixths  are  bound  in  the  deare^t 
 tie  of  love  and  care,  and  all  but  compulsory 
 expectation  ?  It  would  seem  that  any 
 Christian  heart  meeting  Christianity  at 
 this  point,  and  surveying  it  with  only  p.. 
 little  natural  feeling,  would  even  be  op- 
 pressed by  the  sense  of  some  strange  de- 
 fect in  it  as  a  grace  for  the  world.  In  this 
 view  it  gives  to  little  children  the  heritage 
 only  of  Cain,  requiring  them  to  be  driven 
 out  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  and 
 grow  up  there  among  the  outside  crew  of 
 aliens  and  enemies.  Let  no  one  be  sur- 
 prised that,  under  such  treatment,  they 
 stiffen  into  alienated,  wrathful  men, 
 ripened  for  wickedness  by  the  ranges  of 
 all  but  reprobate  exclusion  in  which  they 
 have  been  classed.  Ibid. 
 
 CHILDEEN— Questions  of. 
 
 Children  often  break  upon  their  parents 
 with  very  tough  questions,  and  questions 
 that  wear  a  considerable  looking  towards 
 infidelity.  It  requires,  in  fact,  but  a  sim- 
 ple child  to  ask  questions  that  no  philoso- 
 pher can  answer.  Parents  are  not  to  be 
 hurried  or  flurried  in  such  cases,  and  make 
 up  extempore  answers  that  are  only  meant 
 to  confuse  the  child,  and  consciously  have 
 no  real  verity.  It  is  equally  bad  if  the 
 child  is  scolded  for  his  freedom  ;  for  what 
 respect  can  he  have  for  the  truth  when  he 
 may  not  so  much  as  question  where  it  is  ? 
 Still  worse,  if  the  child's  question  is  taken 
 for  an  evidence  of  his  superlative  smart- 
 ness, and  repeated  with  evident  pride  in 
 his  hearing.  In  all  such  cases  a  quiet 
 answer  should  be  given  to  the  child's 
 question  where  it  can  easily  be  done,  and 
 where  it  cannot,  some  delay  should  be 
 taken,  wherein  it  wiU  be  confessed  that 
 not  even  his  parents  know  everything. 
 Or,  sometimes,  if  the  question  is  one  that 
 plainly  cannot  be  answered  by  anybody, 
 occasion  should  be  taken  to  show  the  cliild 
 how  little  we  know,  ami  how  many  things 
 God  knows  which  are  too  deep  lor  us — 
 how  reverently,  therefore,  we  are  to  sub- 
 mit our  mind  to  His,  and  let  Him  teach 
 us  when  He  will  what  is  true.  It  is  a 
 very  great  thing  for  a  child  to  have  had 
 the  busy  infidel  lurking  in  his  questions, 
 early  instructed  in  regard  to  the  necessary 
 limits  of  knowledge,  and  accustomed  to  a 
 simple  faith  in  God's  requirement,  where 
 his  knowledge  fails.  Ibid. 
 
 CHILDKEN— Eespect  for. 
 
 About  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago 
 there  lived,  in  Germany,  a  worthy  school- 
 
114 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 master  whose  name  was  John  Trebonius. 
 He  was  a  philosopher  and  a  scholar,  and 
 withal  somewhat  eccentric  in  his  habits; 
 but  the  world  then  needed  originality,  so 
 that  this  detracted  nothing  from  his  worth. 
 It  is  not  much — more  is  the  pity — that 
 history  has  recorded  of  this  man ;  but  one 
 tradition  of  him  has  descended  to  our 
 times,  which  furnishes  us  with  no  mean 
 index  to  his  real  character  and  principles. 
 It  is  said  of  him  that  he  never  entered  his 
 school  without  being  affected  with  the 
 most  profound  reverence.  Nothing  could 
 induce  him  to  appear  with  covered  head 
 before  his  boys : — "  Who  can  tell,"  said  he, 
 "  what  may  yet  rise  up  from  amid  these 
 youths  ?  There  may  be  among  them  those 
 who  sliall  be  hereafter  learned  doctors,  sage 
 legislators — nay  !  princes  of  the  empire." 
 Far-seeing  teacher  that !  Right  well,  too, 
 did  he  merit  the  honom-  that  God  put 
 upon  him  of  being  the  instructor  of  Martin 
 Luther,  "the  solitary  monk  that  shook  the 
 world."  C  M.  Merry. 
 
 CHILDREN— Sympathy  of. 
 
 This  is  manifested  very  early  One  of 
 the  first  objects  which  an  infant  notices  is 
 another  child.  There  seems  to  be  a  spell 
 in  a  young  face  which  charms  an  ini'ant. 
 This  principle  is  manifested  in  the  universal 
 love  of  dolls.  When  the  infant  arrives  at 
 childhood,  he  finds  an  excitement  in  the 
 society  of  children  which  that  of  grown-up 
 people  does  not  all'ord.  His  faculties  are 
 stimulated  by  this  principle,  so  that  powers 
 are  developed  which  would  otherwise  re- 
 main dormant.  You  place  a  child  that  has 
 no  natural  talent  for  music  among  children 
 who  possess  this  gift,  and  under  their 
 tutelage  he  will  soon  learn  to  sing.  This 
 fact  has  been  fully  substantiated  in  very 
 many  instances.  S.  &.  Goodrich. 
 
 CHILDREN— Religious  Teaching  of. 
 
 The  great  danger  is,  from  surfeiting 
 children  with  religious  doctrines  or  over 
 much  talk.  Doctrines  they  are  too  young 
 to  understand,  and  too  frequent  talking 
 wearies  them.  Many  parents  err  in  ex- 
 pecting the  religion  of  a  child  should  be 
 the  same  as  their  own.  I  did  not  give 
 formal  instructions  till  they  were  eight 
 years  old,  and  then  chiefly  set  before  them 
 the  striking  facts  in  the  Old  Testament,  or 
 the  miracles  in  the  New.  I  also  laboured 
 much  to  set  before  them  the  goodness  of 
 our  God  in  things  which  they  could  under- 
 stand— such  as  the  comforts  which  we 
 enjoyed  together.  Watching  providential 
 occurrences,  I  made  use  of  them  to  give  a 
 body  and  substance  to  spiritual  truth. 
 One  method  used  to  aflect  them  much — 
 carrying  them  to  see  an  afflicted  child  of 
 God  rejoicing  in  tribulation,  and  speaking 
 of  His  love.     To  this  day  they  tell  of  one 
 
 and  another  whom  they  saw  happy,  though 
 poor  and  in  pain.  C.  Venn. 
 
 When  a  lady  once  told  Archbishop 
 Sharpe  that  she  would  not  communicate 
 religious  instruction  to  her  children  until 
 they  had  attained  the  years  of  discretion, 
 the  shrewd  prelate  replied,  "Madam,  it 
 you  do  not  teach  them,  the  devil  will  \" 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 CHILDREN— Training. 
 
 Be  very  vigilant  over  thy  child  in  the 
 April  of  his  understanding,  lest  the  fi'ost 
 of  May  nip  his  blossoms.  While  he  is  a 
 tender  twig,  straighten  him ;  whilst  he  is 
 a  new  vessel,  season  him;  such  as  thou 
 makest  him,  such  commonly  shalt  thou 
 find  him.  Let  his  first  lesson  be  obedience, 
 and  his  second  shall  be  what  thou  wilt. 
 Give  him  education  in  good  letters,  to  the 
 utmost  of  thy  ability  and  his  capacity. 
 Season  his  youth  with  the  love  of  his 
 Creator,  and  make  the  fear  of  his  God  the 
 beginning  of  his  knowledge.  If  he  have 
 an  active  spirit,  rather  rectify  than  curb 
 it ;  but  reckon  idleness  among  his  chiefest 
 faults.  As  his  judgment  ripens,  observe 
 his  inclination,  and  tender  him  a  calling 
 that  shall  not  cross  it.  Forced  marriages 
 and  callings  seldom  prosper.  Show  him 
 both  the  mow  and  the  plough ;  and  pre- 
 pare him  as  well  for  the  danger  of  the 
 skirmish,  as  possess  him  with  the  honour 
 of  the  prize.  F.  Quurles. 
 
 The  tasks  set  to  children  should  be 
 moderate.  Over-exertion  is  hurtful  both 
 physically  and  intellectually,  and  even 
 morally.  But  it  is  of  the  utmost  import- 
 ance that  they  should  be  made  to  fulfil 
 all  their  tasks  correctly  and  punctually. 
 This  will  train  them  for  an  exact  and  con- 
 scientious discharge  of  their  duties  in  after 
 life.  Hare. 
 
 A  great  step  is  gained  when  a  child  has 
 learned  that  there  is  no  connection  between 
 liking  a  thing  and  doing  it.  Ibid. 
 
 By  directing  a  child's  attention  to  a 
 fault,  and  thus  giving  it  a  local  habitation 
 and  a  name,  you  may  often  fix  it  in  him 
 more  firmly;  when,  by  drawing  his 
 thoughts  and  affections  to  other  things, 
 and  seeking  to  foster  an  opposite  grace, 
 you  would  be  much  more  likely  to  subdue 
 it.  In  like  manner  a  jealous  disposition  is 
 often  strengthened  when  notice  is  taken 
 of  it,  while  tlie  endeavour  to  cherish  a 
 spirit  of  love  would  do  much  towai-d  cast- 
 ing it  out.  ^  Ibid. 
 
 If  a  boy  is  not  trained  to  endure  and  to 
 bear  trouble,  he  will  grow  up  a  girl ;  and 
 a  boy  that  is  a  e;irl  has  all  a  girl's  weakness 
 
CHILDREN— CHRIST. 
 
 115 
 
 without  any  of  her  regal  qualities.  A 
 woman  made  out  of  a  woman  is  God's 
 noblest  work;  a  woman  made  out  of  a 
 man  is  His  meanest.  A  child  rightly 
 brought  up  will  be  like  a  willow  branch, 
 which,  broken  oft"  and  touching  the  ground, 
 at  once  takes  root.  Bring  up  your  children 
 so  that  they  will  root  easily  in  their  own 
 soil,  and  not  for  ever  be  grafted  into  your 
 old  trunk  and  boughs.         M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHILDREN— World  without. 
 
 Ah !  what  would  the  world  be  to  us 
 
 If  the  (;hi]dren  were  no  more  ? 
 We  should  dread  the  desert  behind  us 
 
 Worse  than  the  dark  before. 
 
 What  the  leaves  are  to  the  forest, 
 With  light  and  air  for  food, 
 
 Ere  their  sweet  and  tender  juices 
 Have  been  hardened  into  wood, — 
 
 That  to  the  world  are  children  ; 
 
 Through  them  it  feels  the  glow 
 Of  a  brigliter  and  sunnier  climate 
 
 Than  reaches  the  trunks  below. 
 
 Lonr/felloto, 
 
 CHILDREN  (Good)— Characteristics  of. 
 
 The  Lord  is  with  them  (1  Sum.  iii,  19) ; 
 tliey  know  the  Scriptures  (2  Tim.  iii,  15) ; 
 they  observe  the  law  of  God  ( Frov.  xx  viii,  7)  ; 
 their  obedience  to  parents  is  well  pleasing 
 to  God;  they  partake  of  the  promises; 
 they  shall  be  blessed;  they  show  love  to 
 parents ;  they  obey  parents ;  they  attend 
 to  parental  teaching;  they  take  care  of 
 parents  (Gen.  xlv,  9 — 11 ;  xlvii,  12) ;  they 
 make  their  parents' hearts  glad  (Frov.  x,  1)  ; 
 they  honour  the  aged  (Job  xxxii,  6,  7); 
 they  submit  to  God  (Heb.  xii,  9);  they 
 illustrate  conversion  (?tlatt.  xviii,  3) ;  they 
 illustrate  a  teachable  spirit  (Matt,  xviii,  4). 
 
 Exemplified  in  Z'iaac  (Gen.  xxii,  6 — 10); 
 Joseph  (Gen.  xlv,  9;  xlvi,  29);  Jephthah's 
 daugJder  (Judg.  xi,  34 — 36) ;  Samson 
 (Judg.  xiii,  21) ;  Samuel  (1  Sam.  iii,  19) ; 
 Obadiah  (1  Kin.  xviii,  12);  Josiah  (2  Chron. 
 xxxiv,  3) ;  Esther  (Esth.  ii,  20) ;  Job  (Job 
 xxix,  4);  David  (1  Sara,  xvii,  20;  Psa. 
 Ixxi,  5);  Daniel  (Dan.  i,  6);  John  the 
 Baptist  (Luke  i,  80);  Children  in  the 
 Temple  (Matt,  xxi,  15,  16);  Timothy 
 (2  Tiin.  iii,  15).  Anon. 
 
 CHILDREN  (Wicked)— Characteristics  of. 
 
 They  know  not  God  (1  Sam.  ii,  12);  are 
 void  of  understanding  (Prov.  vii,  7) ;  are 
 proud  (Isa.  iii,  '5).  They  hearken  not  to 
 their  parents,  but  despise  them,  cutse 
 them,  bring  reproach  upon  them,  and  are 
 a  grief  to  them;  they  despise  their  elders. 
 
 Wicked  children  are  punished  for  setting 
 light  by  their  parents  (Deut.  xxvii,  16); 
 for  disobeying  parents  (Deut.  xxi,  21)  ;  for 
 mocking  parents  (Prov.  xxx,  17)  ;  for  curs- 
 ing parents  (Exod.  xxi,  17,  with  Mark  vii. 
 
 10);  for  smiting  parents  (Exod.  xxi,  15) ; 
 for  mocking  saints  (2  Kin.  ii,  23,  24);  for 
 gluttony  and  drunkenness  (Deut.  xxi,  20, 
 21). 
 
 Exemplified  in  Esau  (Gen.  xxvi,  34,  35)  ; 
 sons  of  Eli  (1  Sam.  il,  12 — 17) ;  sons  of 
 Samuel  (1  Sam.  viii,  3) ;  Absalom  (2  Sam. 
 XV,  10) ;  Adonijah  (1  Kin.  i,  5,  6) ;  children 
 at  Bethel  (2  Kin.  ii,  23)  ;  Adrammelech  and 
 Sharezer  (2  Kin.  xix,  37).  Ibid. 
 
 CHRIST— AbUity  of. 
 
 A  lowly  man — He  takes  my  sins,  and  bears 
 the  heavy  load ; 
 
 A  lowly  man — He  takes  my  hand,  and  leads 
 me  up  the  road ; 
 
 And  wlien  1  know  this  lowly  man  is  my 
 Creator !  God ! 
 
 Oh,  this  hath  solved  me  much  dark  speech ; 
 and  loosed  tongues  that  were  dumb  ! 
 
 For  all  creation  round  me  now  a  Gospel 
 has  become. 
 
 And  what  had  seemed  to  me  before  mere 
 wild,  confused  Babel, 
 
 Is  now  a  fire-tongued  Pentecost,  proclaim- 
 ing— Cheist  is  able  ! 
 
 The  thunders,  in  the  crashing  skies,  an- 
 nounce it  as  they  roll ; 
 
 The  lightnings,  on  the  black  storm  wall, 
 write  it  in  vivid  scroll ; 
 
 And   stars  repeat  it,  down  the  dark,  in 
 mystic  jewelled  light; 
 
 The  Urim  and  the  Thummim  on  the  breast- 
 plate of  the  night ; 
 
 And  strong  Orion  shouts  to  me  what  slum- 
 bered in  old  fable. 
 
 And  echoes  from  eternal  night-vaults  an- 
 swer, Able !  Able ! 
 
 And  comet,  cresting  bended  heavens,  waves 
 echo  to  the  word. 
 
 Like  waving    white    plume    in    the    star- 
 mailed  helmet  of  the  Lord; 
 
 For  all  creation  its  evangel    utters   forth 
 abroad. 
 
 Into   mine  ear,   when  now    I    know   my 
 Saviour  Christ  is  God  ! 
 
 W.  B.  Robertson. 
 
 CHRIST— Advent  of. 
 
 Yes  :  the  Son  of  Man  came  to  seek  and 
 to  save  that  which  was  lost.  When  we 
 \yere  lost  that  was  what  He  did  for  us.  Is 
 it  needful  to  repeat  that  old  story,  that 
 good  news  which  never  can  be  repeated  too 
 often,  but  which  I  trust  we  all  know  and 
 love  so  well,  of  how  the  blessed  Redeemer 
 came  to  this  world  and  wore  our  manhood 
 about  His  Godhead,  and  lived  and  died  to 
 save  ?  Let  us  try  to  meet  a  difficulty  which 
 we  may  have  heard  not  unfrequently 
 stated ;  and  which,  at  the  first  glance,  ap- 
 pears to  have  much  weight.  Can  it  be 
 laelieved,  say  some,  when  they  read  such 
 words  as  those  of  the  text ;  can  it  be  be- 
 lieved that  Christ,  the  Creator  and  Pre- 
 server of  countless  worlds,  would  come  to 
 
116 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 this  little  speck  in  immensity ;  would  live 
 here  in  human  form  for  three  and  thirty 
 years ;  and  here  would  sutler  and  die,  all 
 to  seek  and  save  that  which  was  lost — all 
 to  work  out  fallen  man's  salvation  ? 
 
 And  truly,  when  in  the  starry  night  you 
 look  up  at  the  glittering  host  above  you, 
 and  think  of  their  incalculable  numberand 
 vastness,  and  remember  how  it  is  the  creed 
 of  the  philosopher,  and,  as  some  have  main- 
 tained, the  faith  of  the  Christian,  that  each 
 of  these  gigantic  orbs  among  which  the 
 earth  is  a  sand-grain  has  its  overteeming 
 population  of  rational  and  immortal  life ; 
 do  you  not  feel  as  the  Psalmist  felt  when 
 he  said,  in  contemplation  of  that  grand 
 sight — "  What  is  man  that  Thou  art  mind- 
 ful of  him,  or  the  son  of  man  that  Thou 
 visitest  him  ?" 
 
 Was  it  worth  the  Saviour's  while  to 
 come  down  to  so  little  a  world,  to  seek  and 
 to  save  a  lost  thing  so  very  small  ? 
 
 Yes,  brethren;  reason  and  experience 
 come  in  here  to  confirm  the  teachings  of 
 Eevelation;  it  is  quite  credible,  quite 
 natural,  by  the  very  make  of  all  things, 
 that  the  Son  of  Man,  Creator  of  the  uni- 
 verse as  He  was,  should  come  to  seek  and 
 to  save  that  which  was  lost.  By  the  very 
 make  and  nature  of  the  universe,  if  a  thing 
 goes  wrong  it  becomes  a  matter  of  special 
 interest.  Suppose  that  some  skilful  en- 
 gineer is  watching  the  first  trial  of  some 
 great  complicated  piece  of  machinery; 
 suppose  that  a  hundred  pistons  and  cranl^s 
 and  levers  go  right,  but  that  he  sees  away 
 in  a  corner  some  little  piece  of  machinery 
 going  wrong,  jolting  and  straining,  do  you 
 not  think  that  the  skilful  mechanician  will 
 for  the  time  forget  all  the  rest  of  his 
 engine  and  concentrate  his  attention  on 
 that  little  thing  that  is  wrong,  till  he  has 
 got  it  right  ? 
 
 And  even  so  we  may  think  of  the  great 
 Creator  as  He  looks  upon  the  system  of 
 things  playing  beneath  Him,  turning  away 
 from  a  million  worlds  where  there  is  no 
 sin  nor  sorrow,  where  there  is  no  jolting  of 
 the  grand  machinery,  and  coming  down  to 
 this  world  that  is  wrong,  to  set  it  right — 
 to  this  race  that  is  lost,  to  seek  and  save. 
 Did  not  the  man  leave  the  ninety  and  nine 
 sheep  that  were  safe,  and  give  his  entire 
 thought  and  energy  to  the  finding  of  the 
 one  that  had  gone  astray  ?  That  sheep  had 
 been  an  unnoticed  unit  in  a  mass ;  it  was 
 singled  out,  it  became  of  importance,  just 
 by  going  wrong.  A  thing  which  never 
 attracted  attention  when  going  right  often 
 becomes  a  matter  of  much  interest  when 
 it  goes  wrong.  Some  little  detail  in  your 
 household  arrangements,  some  little  nerve 
 in  your  physical  frame ;  you  never  thought 
 of  it:  but  you  are  obliged  to  think  of  it 
 now  that  it  is  jarring  and  tingling.  And 
 does  not  the  sick  member  of  the  family 
 
 awaken  more  interest,  and  get  more  care, 
 than  all  the  rest  put  together  ?  How  softly 
 you  speak  to  the  dying  ear;  how  kindly 
 you  clasp  the  dying  hand;  how  anxiously 
 you  moisten  the  dying  lips ;  how  lightly 
 fall  the  footsteps  round  the  dying  bed ! 
 You  were  kind  enough,  perhaps,  but  you 
 know  you  never  were  so  careful  in  the  days 
 of  health  and  vigour.  And  have  we  not  all 
 been  touched  to  see  how  the  special  care 
 and  fondness  of  the  mother  of  a  healthful 
 hopeful  family,  centre  on  her  poor  little 
 deformed  child,  that  poor  little  thing  that 
 must  face  the  toils  and  trials  of  life  at  so 
 sad  a  disadvantage  ?  And  even  so  may 
 Jesus  look  upon  this  defaced  and  deformed 
 world ;  the  poor  object  amid  a  frail  family 
 of  millions  ;  the  one,  perhaps,  in  all  He 
 made  that  fell !  Or,  to  take  a  familiar 
 instance,  suppose  a  merchant  is  balancing 
 his  books  at  the  end  of  the  year ;  suppose 
 that  in  his  calculation  thousands  and  thou- 
 sands of  figures  are  right,  and  only  one  is 
 wrong ;  does  he  not  fix  upon  the  little 
 error  and  labour  and  labour  on  that  till  it 
 is  put  right  ?  And  even  so,  we  may  say, 
 does  God  hunt  out  the  error  that  has  crept 
 into  creation ;  does  God  effiice  the  little 
 speck  which  obtrudes  itself  upon  His  view. 
 Yes,  a  thing  becomes  of  consequence  by 
 going  wrong.  You  know  that  if  a  man  or 
 woman  who  never  was  heard  of  becomes 
 suddenly  a  great  criminal,  then  that  crime- 
 stained  name  is  for  a  while  in  every  mouth. 
 And  even  so  this  world,  so  to  speak,  pushed 
 itself  into  notice  when  it  fell.  Ah  !  the 
 little  planet  might  have  circled  round  the 
 sun,  happy  and  holy,  and  never  been  singled 
 out  from  among  the  bright  millions  of  which 
 it  is  the  least.  But  as  it  is,  perhaps  this 
 fallen  world's  name  may  be  on  lips  of  angels 
 and  in  the  thoughts  of  races  that  never 
 sinned. 
 
 That  may  be  doubtful ;  but  we  Icnow  that 
 this  world,  by  falling,  gained  a  yet  grander 
 distinction  than  that.  For  three  and  thirty 
 years  it  became  the  dwelling-place  of  the 
 great  Redeemer.  And  we,  when  lost,  as  it 
 might  seem,  in  hopeless  loss,  were  singled 
 out  thereby  for  the  grandest,  most  precious, 
 most  glorious  blessing  that,  so  far  as  we 
 know,  was  ever  given  by  the  Almighty. 
 The  Son  of  God  left  the  glories  of  heaven 
 to  die  for  us.  The  Son  of  Man  came  to 
 seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost. 
 
 Boyd. 
 
 CHRIST— Agony  of. 
 
 Is  it  possible  for  us  to  understand  that 
 expression  which  dropped  from  His  lips 
 on  that  memorable  night  of  His  agony — 
 "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto 
 death  ?  "  Not  only  sorrowful,  but  exceed- 
 ing sorrowful ;  so  exceeding  sorrowful  that 
 it  approached  the  state  of  death.  It  was 
 not  possible  for  his  eyes  to  give  full  relief 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 117 
 
 to  His  pent-up  son-ow  in  tears,  or  His  lips 
 in  wailing  lamentation  ;  but  the  poi-es  of 
 His  body  came  tc  His  help.  These,  infinite 
 in  number,  became  so  many  outlets  to  the 
 profound  anguish  of  His  smitten  soul. 
 
 What  was  it  tliat  occasioned  this  exceed- 
 ing sorrowfulness  of  His  soul  in  the  agony 
 of  the  garden  ?  If  we  bear  in  mind  that 
 on  Him  were  laid  the  iniquities  of  us  all — 
 that  He  knew  each  and  all  the  sins  of  which 
 the  world  was  and  would  be  guilty — that 
 His  pure  and  Divine  nature  was  so  suscep- 
 tible of  abhorrence  of  sin— that  He  was 
 despised  of  the  world  for  whom  He  was  so 
 benevolently  suffering — that  there  were  yet, 
 not  far  away,  the  scenes  of  His  trial,  Peter's 
 unfaithfulness,  Judas's  treachery,  the  cow- 
 ardice of  all  the  apostles,  and  the  tragic 
 doings  of  Calvary — that  the  Father  who 
 had  delighted  in  Him  from  eternity,  who 
 smiled  on  angels,  and  whose  countenance 
 of  love  gave  radiancy  to  creation,  was  soon 
 to  lay  His  hand  upon  Him  in  chastisement 
 and  affliction,  which  would  have  annihi- 
 lated the  whole  universe  of  finite  life ;  when 
 we  consider  these  things,  do  we  not  per- 
 ceive the  reasons  why  His  soul  was  exceed- 
 ing sorrowful,  even  unto  death  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Alpha. 
 
 Take  Christ  first,  before  you  think  of 
 doing  anything  else ;  did  He  not  say, 
 "Without  me  you  can  do  nothing?"  So 
 then,  all  you  do  without  Him  is  sheer 
 nothing,  however  pious  and  noble  it  may 
 appear  in  the  eyes  of  men.  Is  He  not 
 the  Alpha,  and  is  not  the  Alpha  the  first 
 letter  ?  Then  do  not  try  to  put  a  letter 
 before  it ;  do  not  say  to  yourself,  "  I  will 
 try  to  obtain  a  true  recognition  of  my  sins, 
 and  then  I  will  go  to  Jesus  to  obtain  sal- 
 vation." This  is  beginning  with  the  Z 
 instead  of  with  the  Alpha.  By  doing  so 
 you  make  yourself  like  that  fool  who  said : 
 "  I  will  learn  to  swim  first,  and  then  I  will 
 go  into  the  water."  Do  you  want  to  know 
 your  sins  truly  ?  Who  is  to  give  you  that 
 knowledge  but  Christ  ?  Do  you  want  to 
 become  better  and  more  heavenly-minded  ? 
 Who  can  give  you  that  godly  disposition  of 
 heart  but  Christ  ?  Indeed,  everything  you 
 ■want  is  within  the  sheepfold  of  God ;  but 
 how  can  you  get  within  except  through  the 
 door,  which  is  Christ ?  "I  am  the  door," 
 He  said :  "  by  me  if  any  man  enter  in  he 
 shall  be  saved,  and  shall  go  in  and  out,  and 
 find  pasture."  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHRIST— All-sufficiency  of. 
 
 All  the  good  things  that  can  be  reckoned 
 up  here  below  have  only  a  finite  and  limited 
 goodness  ;  some  can  clothe,  but  cannot 
 feed;  others  can  nourish,  but  they  cannot 
 secure ;  others  adorn,  but  cannot  advance ; 
 all  do  serve,  but  none  do  satisfy ;  they  are 
 
 like  a  beggar's  coat  made  up  of  many 
 pieces,  not  all  enough  either  to  beautify  or 
 defend.  But  Christ  is  full  and  sufficient 
 for  all  His  people ;  He  ascended  on  hvsh 
 that  He  might  fill  all  things  (Eph.  iv,  10,) 
 that  He  might  pour  forth  such  abundance 
 of  Spirit  on  His  Church  as  might  answer 
 all  the  conditions  whereunto  they  may  be 
 reduced ;  righteousness  enough  to  cover  all 
 their  sins ;  plenty  enough  to  supply  all 
 their  wants ;  grace  enough  to  subdue  all 
 their  lusts ;  wisdom  enough  to  vanquish  all 
 their  enemies;  virtue  enough  to  cure  all 
 their  diseases ;  fulness  enough  to  save  them, 
 and  that  to  the  utmost.  Over  and  besides, 
 there  is  in  Christ  something  proportionable 
 to  all  the  wants  and  desires  of  His  people. 
 He  is  bread,  wine,  milk,  living  waters,  to 
 feed  them ;  He  is  a  garment  of  righteous- 
 ness to  cover  and  adorn  them ;  a  Piiysician 
 to  heal  them  ;  a  Counsellor  to  advise  them ; 
 a  Captain  to  defend  them  ;  a  Prince  to  rule  j 
 a  Prophet  to  teach ;  a  Priest  to  make  atone- 
 ment for  them ;  a  Husband  to  protect ;  a 
 Father  to  provide ;  a  Brother  to  relieve ;  a 
 Foundation  to  support ;  a  Hoot  to  quicken ; 
 a  Head  to  guide;  a  Treasure  to  enrich;  a  Sun 
 to  enlighten ;  and  a  Fountain  to  cleanse  :  so 
 that  as  the  one  ocean  hath  more  water 
 than  all  the  rivers  of  the  world,  and  one 
 sun  more  light  than  all  the  luminaries  in 
 heaven,  so  one  Christ  is  more  all  to  a  poor 
 soul,  than  if  it  had  the  all  of  the  whole 
 world  a  thousand  times  over.  Spencer. 
 
 CHRIST— Anointing  of. 
 
 W^hen  it  is  said  of  the  Saviour  born  in 
 Bethlehem  that  He  is  the  Christ,  it  is  said 
 of  Him  that  He  was  anointed  with  holy 
 oil.  He  was  not,  however,  anointed  with 
 material  oil,  such  as  was  poured  on  the 
 head  of  Aaron,  or  David,  or  Elisha,  or 
 Saul ;  no  such  oil  ever  came  on  the  head  of 
 Him  born  in  Bethlehem.  The  oil  that 
 was  poured  on  the  head  of  Aaron,  David, 
 Elisha,  and  Saul,  was  material — oil  e.v- 
 pressed  from  vegetable  matter,  oil  exuding 
 from  certain  drugs ;  but  the  oil  that  came 
 upon  the  head  of  the  child  born  in  Bethlehem 
 was  the  oil  of  the  Spirit,  the  anointing 
 of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  you  remember, 
 when  He  came  out  of  His  obscurity  and 
 entered  on  His  public  ministry,  at  the 
 time  of  His  baptism,  the  Holy  Ghost 
 alighted  on  Him  in  the  form  of  a  dove — a 
 stream  of  holy  unction  was  seen  coming 
 down  from  the  heaven  of  heavens  and  over- 
 flowing His  sacred  and  mysterious  Person ; 
 and  when  He  had  received  this  anointing 
 of  the  Father  He  went  forth  preaching  in 
 Judffia,  andsaying,  "Repent ye,  forthe  king- 
 dom of  heaven  is  at  hand."  Br.  Beaumont. 
 
 CHRIST— Ascension  of. 
 
 While  the  going  up  of  Elias  may  be 
 compared  to  the  flight  of  a   bird   which 
 
118 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 none  can  follow,  the  ascension  of  Christ 
 is,  as  it  were,  a  bridge  between  heaven  and 
 eaith,  laid  down  for  all  who  are  drawn  to 
 Him  by  His  earthly  existence. 
 
 Baumgarten. 
 CHRIST— Ascension  of. 
 
 As  Joseph  was  secretly  sent  before  by 
 God's  intendment  to  prepare  a  place  in 
 Egypt  for  his  brethren;  so  more  openly 
 doth  Christ  ascend  to  heaven,  professedly 
 declaring  that  to  be  His  business,  "  I  go 
 to  prepare  a  place  for  you."      T.  Goodwin. 
 
 Having  spoiled  His  enemies  on  the  cross. 
 He  further  miikes  a  public  triumphal  show 
 of  them  in  His  own  person,  which  is  a 
 second  act ;  as  the  manner  of  the  Roman 
 emperors  was,  in  their  great  triumph,  to 
 ride  through  the  city  in  the  greatest  state, 
 and  have  all  the  spoils  carried  before  them, 
 and  the  kings  and  nobles,  whom  they  had 
 tal:en;  and  this  did  Clirist  at  His  ascen- 
 sion, plainly  manifesting,  by  His  open  show 
 of  them,  that  He  had  spoiled  and  fully 
 subdued  them.  T.  Goodwin,. 
 
 It  was  the  custom  of  the  Roman  em- 
 perors at  their  triumphal  entrance  to  cast 
 new  coins  among  the  multitudes  ;  so  doth 
 Clirist,  in  His  triumphal  ascension  into 
 heaven,  tlirow  the  greatest  gifts  for  the 
 good  of  men  that  were  ever  given. 
 
 T.  Goodwin. 
 
 Him  though  highest  heaven  receives. 
 Still  He  loves  the  earth  He  leaves ; 
 I'hough  returning  to  His  throne, 
 Slill  He  calls  mankind  His  own. 
 See,  He  lifts  His  hands  above  ! 
 See,  He  shows  the  prints  of  love ! 
 Hark,  His  gracious  lips  bestow 
 Blessings  on  His  Church  below.  C.  Wesley. 
 
 CHRIST— Attraction  of. 
 
 Among  the  several  wonders  of  the  load- 
 stone this  is  not  the  least,  that  it  will  not 
 draw  gold  or  pearl,  but,  despising  these,  it 
 draws  the  iron  to  it,  one  of  the  most  in- 
 ferior metals  :  thus  Christ  leaves  the  angels, 
 those  noble  spirits,  the  gold  and  the  pearl, 
 and  H?  comes  to  poor  sinful  man,  and 
 draws  him  into  His  embraces.    T.  Watson. 
 
 It  is  recorded  of  Socrates,  that  he  brought 
 men  down  from  heaven  to  earth;  that  is, 
 he  drew  the  attention  of  men  from  the 
 study  and  contemplation  of  heavenly  bodies, 
 to  the  consideration  of  the  nature  and  end 
 oi  man,  tlie  duties  and  relations  of  men 
 in  this  life.  Socrates,  therefore,  was  said 
 to  have  brought  down  philosophy  from 
 heaven  to  earth.  But  of  Jesus  Christ  it 
 may  be  said  that  He  brings  us  from  earth 
 to  heaven ;  He  teaches  us  a  divine  phi- 
 losophy ;  raises  men  from  things  seen,  and 
 
 temporal  and  earthly,  to  things  spiritual, 
 heavenly,  and  eternal.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 CHRIST— Baptism  of. 
 
 There  can  be  little  doubt,  I  think,  but 
 that  the  baptism  or  purification  of  our  Lord 
 at  the  Jordan,  in  what'^oever  wayitwas  per- 
 formed, was  but  His  inaugural  rite  into  the 
 high-priesthood,  "  over  the  house  of  God," 
 on  which  that  day  He  was  to  enter.  That 
 office  He  came  from  heaven  on  earth  to 
 assume ;  and  as  the  ancient  priests  of  the 
 law  were  all  typical  of  Him,  He  enters  on 
 His  work  at  a  similar  time,  and  in  a  similar 
 manner,  to  what  they  had  done.  They 
 were  tocommenceit  at  "thirty  years  of  age;" 
 so  did  He.  They  were  to  be  "  washed  with 
 water,"  as  a  ceremony  of  purification ;  so 
 was  He.  They  were  to  be  anointed  vvitli 
 "  precious  ointment ;"  He  was  anointed 
 with  the  Spirit  without  measure.  Tiiey 
 were  to  be  clad  in  priestly  garments  of 
 glory  and  beauty  ;  He  was  already  arrayed 
 in  the  glorious  beauty  of  His  own  perfect 
 humanity,  and  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
 resident  in  Him.  In  these  different  points 
 I  perceive  an  exact  agreement  between  the 
 types  and  the  antitype,  and  thus  it  became 
 Him  "  to  fulfil  all  righteousness,"  that  no 
 part  of  the  law  of  the  priesthood  might  be 
 omitted,  and  that  that  correspondence 
 might  appear,  W.  O'Neill. 
 
 CHRIST— Burden  of. 
 
 "  My  burden  is  light."  A  light  burden 
 indeed,  which  carries  him  that  bears  it.  I 
 have  looked  through  all  nature  for  a  re- 
 semblance of  this,  and  I  seem  to  find  a 
 shadow  of  it  in  the  wings  of  a  bird,  which 
 are  indeed  borne  by  the  creature,  and  yet 
 support  his  flight  towards  heaven. 
 
 Bernard. 
 CHRIST— Burial  of. 
 
 There  is  another  fact  which  was  never 
 denied  either  ;  and  that  is,  that  Christ  was 
 buried  :  no  one  ever  doubted  that,  no  one 
 ever  denied  that,  no  one  ever  controverted 
 that.  He  was  buried,  however,  in  a  par- 
 ticular manner,  just  as  He  died,  in  a  par- 
 ticular manner.  The  sepulchre  of  Christ 
 was  an  aperture  m  a  rock,  a  hole  in  a 
 rock  ;  a  cavity  hewn  out  of  a  natural  rock. 
 So  tliere  was  no  approaching  the  sepulchre 
 of  Christ  but  by  the  mouth  of  it ;  there 
 was  no  undermining  it;  there  was  no 
 sapping  and  mining  it,  by  which  the  corpse 
 might  have  been  abstracted,  by  which  it 
 might  have  been  taken  away  some  other 
 way  than  the  way  it  was  put  in  ;  there 
 was  no  way  of  the  body  getting  out  of  the 
 grave  but  by  the  way  it  got  in,  namely,  by 
 the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre.  But  the 
 mouth  of  the  sepulchre  was  shut  up,  seakd 
 up,  fortified  with  a  great  stone  rolled 
 against  its  mouth.     The  stone  was  sealed 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 119 
 
 with  the  royal  arms,  the  Imperial  signet 
 was  attached  to  the  stone,  the  sepulchre 
 of  Christ  was  hermetically  sealed ;  so  that 
 it  was  supposed  it  could  never  he  infringed 
 upon,  never  could  be  violated;  and  to 
 make  it  still  more  inviolable,  it  was  guarded 
 by  Rome's  veteran  legions.  It  was  never 
 denied,  then,  that  Christ  was  buried. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Centre  of  the  Chi-istian  Faith. 
 The  prerogative  of  our  Christian  faith,  the 
 secret  of  its  strength,  is,  that  all  which  it 
 has,  and  all  which  it  oilers,  is  laid  up  in  a 
 Person.  This  is  what  has  made  it  strong, 
 while  so  much  else  has  proved  weak,  that  it 
 has  a  Christ  as  its  middle  point, — that  it  is 
 not  a  circumference  without  a  centre, — that 
 it  has  not  merely  a  deliverance,  but  a 
 Deliverer, ^not  a  redemption  only,  but  a 
 Kedecner  as  well.  This  is  what  makes  it 
 fit  for  wayfaring  men ;  this  is  what  makes 
 it  sunlight,  and  all  else  compared  with  it 
 hut  as  moonlight ;— fair  it  may  be,  but  cold 
 and  ineftectual ;  while  here  the  Hght  and 
 the  life  are  one ;  the  Light  is  also  the  life 
 of  men.  Oh  how  great  the  difference  be- 
 tween submitting  ourselves  to  a  complex  of 
 rules,  and  casting  ourselves  upon  a  beating 
 heart;  between  accepting  a  system,  and 
 cleaving  to  a  person.  And  how  tenfold 
 blessed  the  advantages  of  the  last,  if  that 
 person  is  such  an  One  that  there  shall  be 
 nothing  servile  in  the  entire  resignation  of 
 ourselves  to  be  taught  of  Him,  for  He  is 
 the  absolute  Truth — nothing  unmanly  in 
 the  yielding  of  our  whole  being  to  be 
 wholly  moulded  by  Him,  for  that  He  is  not 
 merely  the  highest  which  humanity  has 
 reached,  but  the  highest  which  it  can  reach 
 — its  intended  and  ideal  perfection,  at  once 
 its  perfect  image  and  superior  Lord. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Centre  of  Humanity. 
 
 For  this  is  part  of  the  glory  of  Christ  as 
 compared  with  His  servants,  as  compared 
 with  the  chiefest  of  His  servants,  that  He 
 alone  stands  at  the  absolute  centre  of  hu- 
 manity, the  one  completely  harmonious 
 Man,  unfolding  all  which  was  in  that  hu- 
 manity equally  upon  all  sides,  fully  upon 
 all  sides  —the  only  one  in  whom  the  real 
 and  ideal  met,  and  were  absolutely  at  one. 
 Every  other  man  has  idiosyncrasies,  charac- 
 teristics— some  features,  that  is,  of  his 
 character  marked  more  strongly  than  others, 
 fitnesses  for  one  task  rather  than  for  an- 
 other, more  genial  powers  in  one  direction 
 than  in  others.  Nor  are  even  the  greatest, 
 a  St.  Paul  or  a  St.  John,  exempted  from 
 this  law ;  but,  according  to  this  law,  are 
 made  to  serve  for  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 CHRIST— Character  of. 
 
 He  was  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  separate 
 
 from  sinners.  He  did  no  sin,  neither  was 
 there  any  guile  in  His  mouth.  No  one  could 
 convince  Him  of  sin.  Satan  found  nothing 
 in  Him  of  his  nature  or  likeness.  He  was 
 meek,  gentle,  humble,  candid,  kind,  truth- 
 ful, merciful, sympathetic;  resisted  tempta- 
 tion, obeyed  the  will  of  God,  was  zealous 
 for  His  glory,  taught  the  ignorant,  relieved 
 the  distressed,  was  patient  in  sufi'ering,  long 
 suffering  in  provocation,  forgave  His  ene- 
 mies, denied  Himself  all  things  sinful,either 
 in  nature  or  appearance;  was  subject  to 
 His  parents;  resigned  in  affliction,  and 
 submissive  in  death.  The  moral  character 
 of  His  human  life  was  as  free  from  imper- 
 fection as  the  Divine  nature  which  dwelt 
 within  Hinj.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST  (Character  of )— Extraordinary. 
 
 He  was  no  ordinary  man.  His  miracu- 
 lous conception  was  foretold  by  an  angel ; 
 His  birth  was  announced  to  the  peasants  of 
 Judopa  by  a  company  of  the  heavenly  host 
 — to  the  learned  of  a  distant  country  by  a 
 new  wonder  in  the  air  :  His  high  original 
 was  afterwards  attested  by  voices  from 
 heaven.  He  displayed  powers  in  Himself 
 which  amounted  to  nothing  less  than  an 
 uncontrolled  and  unlimited  dominion  over 
 every  department  of  the  universe, — over 
 the  first  elements  of  which  natural  sub- 
 stances are  composed,  in  His  lirst  miracle 
 of  changing  water  into  wine,  and  in  the 
 later  ones  of  augmenting  the  mass  of  a 
 few  loaves  and  a  few  small  fishes  to  a  quan- 
 tity sufficient  for  the  meal  of  hungry  mul- 
 titudes— over  the  most  turbulent  of  the 
 natural  elements,  composing  the  raging 
 winds  and  troubled  waves — over  the  laws 
 of  nature,  exempting  the  matter  of  His 
 body  on  a  particular  occasion  from  the  ge- 
 neral force  of  gravitation,  and  the  power 
 of  mechanical  impulse,  so  as  to  tread  secure 
 and  firm  upon  the  tossing  surface  of  a 
 stormy  sea — over  the  vegetable  kingdom, 
 blasting  the  fig-tree  with  His  word — over 
 the  animal  body,  removing  its  diseases, 
 correcting  the  original  defects  and  disorders 
 of  its  organs,  and  restoring  its  mutilated 
 parts — over  the  human  mind,  penetrating 
 the  closest  secrets  of  each  man's  heart — 
 over  the  revolted  spirits,  delivering  mise- 
 ral)le  mortals  fi-om  their  persecution,  and 
 compelling  them  to  confess  Him  for  their 
 Lord  and  the  destined  avenger  of  their 
 crimes ;  and  what  might  be  regarded  as 
 more  than  all,  He  showed  that  life  itself 
 was  in  His  power,  restoring  it  in  various 
 instances — in  one  when  it  had  been  so 
 long  extinguished  that  the  putrefaction  of 
 animal  fluids  must  have  taken  place. 
 
 Bp.  Sorsley. 
 
 CHRIST— and  His  Church. 
 
 The  general  consideration,  that  what 
 there  may  have  been  in  the  world  obscurely 
 
1:0 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 stniprirlinn:  to  he  Christian  before  Christ 
 and  His  Church,  so  far  from  suggesting  to 
 us  poorer  thoughts  of  what  in  Him  we 
 possess,  under  how  far  more  glorious  aspect 
 does  it  present  that  to  us !  All  which  men 
 hefore  could  conceive  but  could  not  realize, 
 could  feel  after  but  could  not  grasp,  could 
 dream  of  but  ever  when  they  awoke  found 
 nothing  in  their  hands, — it  is  here  ;  "  the 
 body  is  of  Christ."  And  the  Church  which 
 He  has  founded,  we  behold  it  as  sitting 
 upon  many  waters,  upon  the  great  ocean  of 
 truth,  from  whence  every  stream  that  has 
 at  all  or  at  any  time  refreshed  the  earth 
 was  origin.dly  drawn,  and  to  wh'ch  it 
 duteously  brings  its  waters  again.  We  may 
 contemplate  that  Church  as  haying,  in  that 
 it  has  the  Word  and  Spirit  of  its  Lord,  the 
 measure  of  all  partial  truth  in  itself;  re- 
 ceiving the  homage  of  all  human  systems, 
 meekly,  and  yet,  like  a  queen,  as  her  right ; 
 understanding  them  far  better  than  they 
 ever  understood  themselves;  disallowing 
 their  false,  and  what  of  true  they  have, 
 setting  their  seal  upon  that  true,  and 
 issuing  it  with  a  brighter  image,  and  a 
 sharper  outline,  and  a  more  paramount 
 authority,  from  her  own  mint. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 CHEIST— Clinging  to. 
 
 When  a  shipwrecked  sailor,  left  to  the 
 mercy  of  the  waves,  has  no  help  within 
 reach  or  view  but  a  spar  or  mast,  how  will 
 he  clilig  to  it,  how  firmly  he  will  clasp  it — 
 he  will  hold  it  as  life  itself  If  a  passing 
 billow  sweep  him  from  it,  with  all  his 
 might  he  will  make  for  it  again,  and  grasp 
 it  fester  than  ever.  To  part  is  to  perish ; 
 and  so  he  clings — and  how  anxiously  !  So 
 the  awakened  sinner  feels.  The  ocean  of 
 wrath  surrounds  him ;  its  billows  and  its 
 waves  go  over  him.  Hell  yawns  beneath 
 to  engulph  him.  The  vessel  is  an  utter 
 wreck.  All  its  floating  timbers  are  very 
 rottenness.  Oh,  how  he  strains  his  eye 
 searching  for  a  mast,  a  plank,  a  spar  !  His 
 eye  rests  on  the  only  hope,  the  only  rock 
 in  the  wide  ocean  of  wrath,  the  Eock  of 
 Ages,  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  makes  for  the 
 Saviour — he  clasps  Him — he  cleaves  to 
 Him.  Every  terror  of  sin  and  of  un- 
 worthiness  that  strives  to  loosen  his  hold 
 only  makes  him  grasp  with  more  terrible 
 and  death-like  tenacity,  for  he  knows  that 
 to  part  company  is  to  perish. 
 
 R.  B.  Nichol. 
 
 CHRIST— Contrarieties  in. 
 
 He  was  born  in  a  stable.  His  cradle  was 
 a  monger,  there  was  lodging  in  the  inn, 
 but  none  for  Mary ;  yet  was  there  then  a 
 star  in  the  heavens,  to  signify  to  the  wise 
 men  the  birth  of  this  noble  personage. 
 He  was  baptized  by  John  His  servant,  but 
 a  voice  was  heard  from  heaven,  and  the  Holy 
 
 Ghost  was  there  by  His  solemn  presence. 
 He  had  no  possession  of  His  own,  but  was 
 maintained  by  the  alms  of  devout  women, 
 but  out  of  them  He  had  cast  devils.  He 
 must  pay  tribute,  but  He  will  fetch  it  out 
 of  the  mouth  of  a  fish.  In  the  end  He 
 was  taken  with  a  band  of  men,  but  when 
 He  spake,  they  reeled  backward  and  none 
 durst  lay  hold  on  Him.  He  was  whipped 
 and  ill-treated,  but  twice  before  had  He 
 whipped  the  money-changers  out  of  the 
 temple,  and  none  durst  open  their  mouth 
 against  Him.  He  was  condemned  to  die, 
 but  the  judge's  wife  dreamed  and  was 
 troubled,  being  persuaded  of  His  innocence, 
 and  Pilate  himself  acquitted  Him.  When 
 He  was  going  to  the  cross  He  was  so  worn 
 as  He  was  not  able  to  bear  it,  but  He  was 
 able  to  bear  the  wrath  of  His  Father.  He 
 was  hanged  between  two  thieves,  but  He 
 saveth  one  of  them.  He  was  mocked  of 
 the  people,  but  the  heaven  and  earth  ac- 
 knowledge Him.  He  was  sometimes  called 
 Beelzebub,  yet  Beelzebub  confesseth  Him 
 to  be  the  Son  of  God.  M.  E.  Fhilip. 
 
 CHRIST  (Death  of )— Mysteriousness  of  the. 
 That  God,  this  Lord,  the  Lord  of  life, 
 could  die,  is  a  strange  contemplation ;  that 
 the  Red  Sea  could  be  dry,  that  the  sun 
 could  stand  still,  that  an  oven  could  be 
 seven  times  heat  and  not  burn,  that  lions 
 could  be  hungry  and  not  bite,  is  strange, 
 miraculously  strange ;  but  supermiraculous 
 that  God  could  die,  but  that  God  would 
 die  is  an  exaltation  of  that.  But  even  of 
 that  also  it  is  a  superexaltation  that  God 
 should  die,  and  non  exitus  (said  St.  Augus- 
 tine), God  the  Lord  had  no  issue  hut  by 
 death,  and  oporiuii  pati  (says  Christ  Him- 
 self), all  this  Christ  ought  to  suft'er,  was 
 bound  to  suffer.  Dr.  Donne. 
 
 CHRIST  (Death  of)— Place,  &c.,  of  the. 
 
 Consider  the  place  where  He  died.  We 
 all  hope  to  die  in  our  own  homes,  in  our 
 own  beds ;  the  people  of  God  generally  are 
 allowed  to  die  thus.  But  where  did  your 
 Lord  and  Master  die  ?  One  of  the  his- 
 torians says,  with  inimitable  and  over- 
 whelming emphasis,  "They  led  Him  away 
 to  Calvary,  and  there  they  crucified  Him." 
 A  place  putrid  with  blood  and  bones — a 
 place  the  atmosphere  of  which  was  im- 
 pregnated with  a  blasphemous  breath. 
 Consider,  too,  among  whom  He  died.  He 
 was  crucified  between  two  thieves,  two 
 malefactors;  He  had  the  middle  place  as- 
 signed Him,  as  though  He  was  worse  thim 
 either  of  them.  And  as  to  the  death  itself 
 ivhich  He  endured,  you  know  what  it  was. 
 Crucifixion  was  the  most  lingering  and 
 painful  mode  of  death,  and  it  was  the 
 most  infamous  one;  and  in  the  estimation 
 of  the  Jews,  it  was  an  accursed  death,  for, 
 according  to  their  own  law,  "cursed  was 
 
CEEIST. 
 
 121 
 
 he  that  hangeth  on  tlie  free."  There  see 
 the  head,  that  was  filled  '.vith  treasures  of 
 knowledge,  sinking  lifeless  upon  His 
 hosomj  see  those  hands  that  mixed  the 
 ointment  for  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  that 
 multiplied  the  loaves  for  the  starving 
 people,  that  were  stretched  out  upon  the 
 sick  and  dying,  to  recover  and  to  serve 
 them  ;  see  those  hands  stretched  on  the 
 accursed  tree;  see  those  feet  that  were 
 bedewed  with  the  tears  and  anointed  with 
 the  ointment  of  Mary,  and  that  carried 
 Him  about  on  His  journeys  of  pity  and 
 charity,  pierced  with  rugged  iron ;  and 
 the  heart  that  throbbed  with  love  for  the 
 human  race,  and  glowed  with  zeal  for  the 
 honour  of  His  Father,  pierced  with  the 
 cruel  spear.  "  Behold,  all  ye  that  pass  by, 
 and  see  if  ever  was  sorrow  like  unto  His 
 sorrow  in  the  day  that  the  Lord  afflicted 
 Him  in  the  fierceness  of  His  anger."  What 
 part  of  His  flesh  was  exempt  from  suffer- 
 ing ?  He  bore  our  sins  in  His  own  body 
 on  the  tree.  What  part  of  His  body  was 
 exempt  from  anguish?  Was  it  His  hands 
 and  His  feet? — they  were  pixced  with 
 nails.  W^as  it  His  temples  ? — they  were 
 punctured  with  thorns.  Was  it  His  back  ? 
 — that  was  lacei-ated  with  scourges.  Was  it 
 His  side  ? — that  was  broken  by  the  hostile 
 spear.  Was  it  His  bones  ? — they  were  all 
 as  it  were  out  of  joint.  Was  it  His  muscles? 
 ■ — they  were  stretched  upon  the  gibbet. 
 Was  it  His  veins  ?- — they  were  deprived  of 
 their  purple  fluid.  Was  it  His  nerves, 
 those  canals  of  feeling,  those  rivers  of  sen- 
 sation ? — they  were  wrung  with  anguish. 
 He  bore  our  sins  in  His  own  body  on  the 
 tree.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 CHEIST  (Death  of)— Voluntariness  of  the. 
 Oh,  what  a  lovely  victim  is  Christ,  not 
 unwillingly  dragged  to  the  altar,  not  un- 
 willingly pressed  upon  the  altar  :  oh,  no  ! 
 What  bound  Him  to  the  cross  ?  Was  it  the 
 nails  ?  If  He  had  never  been  fastened  by 
 anything  else  but  nails.  He  had  never' been 
 fastened  at  all.  It  was  love  that  bound 
 Him  to  the  cross ;  it  was  love  that  carried 
 Him  to  the  cross;  it  was  love  to  us  that 
 led  Him  to  go  to  the  high  altar ;  and  it  was 
 love  to  us  that  fastened  Him  to  that  altar. 
 Ihid. 
 
 CHRIST  (Death  of )— "Wonderfulness  of  the. 
 Amazing    scene !     well    might    the    sun, 
 
 abashed, 
 Hide  his   bright   face   in  darkness !    well 
 
 iTiight  earth 
 Shake  to  her  centre !  well  the  rending  rocks 
 Speak  out  their  wonder;  and  convulsions 
 
 tear 
 The  universal  frame !  0  love  divine  ! 
 O  miracle  of  love  !  0  love  of  God  ! 
 How  vast,  how  woudi-ous,  passing  human 
 
 thought ! 
 
 Had  universal  nature  backward  shrunk 
 Into  the  barren  womb  of  nothingness ; 
 Had  light  turned  darkness,  matter  chaos 
 
 wild. 
 And  order  rank  confusion,  it  were  nought 
 To  that  stupendous  scene,  where  God  in 
 
 flesh 
 Died  for  the  creature's  sin  !  Yoimg. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Defence. 
 
 A  wall  of  crystal  is  a  safe  defence  against 
 the  force  of  fire,  yet  it  is  no  obstruction  to 
 the  beams  and  cherishing  light  of  the  sun. 
 Such  a  crystal  wall  is  Christ;  He  keejis  off 
 God's  fiei'y  indignation  from  us,  but  yet 
 conveys  to  us  the  cherishing  and  reviving 
 influences  of  His  love.  Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 CHRIST— Dignity  of. 
 
 It  is  He  whose  very  infancy  not  only 
 startled  a  king,  and  made  him  fear  his 
 throne,  but  also  affrighted  the  powers  of 
 darkness,  and  silenced  the  heathen  oracles; 
 whose  childhood  puzzled  the  knowledge  of 
 the  agel,  and  confounded  the  doctors  of 
 the  law;  who  ruled  the  course  of  nature, 
 and  made  the  strong  winds  obey  Him,  and 
 could  walk  on  the  billows  of  th"  sea  as  on 
 ii  pavement ;  who  fed  multitudes  by  His 
 word,  a?id  healed  all  manner  of  diseases 
 without  medicine;  who  could  command 
 them  to  leap  that  were  cripple,  and  make 
 them  see  the  heavens  and  the  day  who  hid 
 been  born  blind;  and  who  could  cast  devils 
 out  of  their  possessions,  and  restore  the 
 frantic  to  their  wits  ;  who  could  break  the 
 gates  of  death  and  open  the  doors  of  the 
 grave,  and  call  back  the  spirits  of  the 
 buried  carcases.  Senry  Scougal. 
 
 CHRIST— Divinity  of. 
 
 To  create,  to  call  something  out  of 
 nothing,  be  it  a  dying  spark  or  a  blazing 
 sun,  a  dewdrop  cradled  in  a  lily's  bosom, 
 or  the  vast  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  God's 
 hand,  mole-hill  or  mountain,  the  dancing 
 motes  of  a  sunbeam  or  the  rolling  planets 
 of  a  system,  a  burning  seraph  or  a  feeble 
 glow-worm,  one  of  the  ephemera  that  takes 
 wing  in  the  morning  and  is  dead  at  night, 
 or  one  of  the  angels  that  sang  when  our 
 Lord  was  born ;  whatever  be  the  thing 
 created,  the  power  to  create  is  God's,  the 
 act  of  creation  His;  and  therefore,  since 
 Paul  says  that  Jesus  Christ  created  all 
 things,  he  cannot  mean  to  depose  our  Lord 
 from  the  throne  of  Divinity,  and  lower  God's 
 only  begotten  Son  to  the  level  of  a  created 
 being.  Dr.  Outhrie. 
 
 "  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this, 
 that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends." 
 This  passage,  c(mnected  with  the  one  in 
 Romans  which  says  that  "  while  we  were 
 yet  enemies  Christ  died  for  us,"  prove,  to 
 say  the  least,  that  Jesus  was  more  than 
 
122 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 man,  inasmucli  as  He  died  for  His  enemies, 
 whereus  no  man  has  ever  done  more  than 
 die  for  his  friends.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— Divinity  of. 
 
 Two  gentlemen  were  once  disputing  on 
 the  divinity  of  Christ.  One  of  them,  wlio 
 argued  against  it,  said,  "  If  it  were  true,  it 
 certainly  would  have  been  expressed  in 
 more  clear  and  unequivocal  terms."  "Well," 
 snid  the  other,  "admitting  tliat  you  be- 
 lieved it,  were  you  authorised  to  teach  it 
 and  allowed  to  use  your  own  language,  how 
 would  you  express  the  doctrine  to  make  it 
 indubitable  ?"  "  I  would  say,"  replied  he, 
 "  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  true  God." 
 "  You  are  very  happy/'  replied  the  other, 
 "  in  tlie  choice  of  your  words,  for  you  have 
 happened  to  hit  upon  the  very  words  of 
 inspiration.  St.  John,  speaking  of  the  Sou, 
 says,  '  This  is  THE  true  God,  and  Eternal 
 Life!'"  Wilson. 
 
 If  the  words  of  reasoning  are  not  enough 
 to  convince  the  sceptic  that  man  has  a 
 soul  as  well  as  a  body,  then  we  refer  him 
 to  the  u'or/cs  which  man  has  accomplished, 
 and  claim  that  they  are  sufficient  to  pro- 
 duce belief.  So  we  would  say.  If  the  words 
 which  Jesus  and  His  apostles  spake  have 
 not  a  weight  of  evidence  strong  enough  to 
 convince  the  Socinian  that  He  is  one  with 
 the  Father,  or  Divine,  then  let  him  con- 
 sider the  works  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  thence 
 derive  satisfactory  proofs  that  He  is  in  the 
 Father  and  the  Father  in  Him.  "  For  the 
 very  works'  sake,"  let  him  believe.    J.  Bate, 
 
 The  following  phrases,  as  gathered  from 
 the  Serij)tures,  may  serve  to  illustrate  this 
 view  of  Christ.  He  is  spoken  of  as  "  Jeho- 
 vah ;  as  Jehovah  of  glory  ;  as  Jehovah  our 
 Righteousness;  as  Jehovah  above  all;  as 
 Jehovah  the  First  and  the  Last ;  as 
 Jehovah's  Fellow  and  equal ;  as  Jehovah 
 of  hosts ;  as  .lehovah  of  David  ;  as  Jehovah 
 the  Shepherd ;  as  Jehovah  for  whose  glory 
 all  things  were  created  ;  as  Jehovah  the 
 Messenger  of  the  Covenant :  invoked  as 
 Jehovah  ;  as  the  Eternal  God  and  Creator; 
 as  the  Mighty  God;  as  the  Great  God  and 
 Saviour ;  as  God  over  all ;  as  the  True 
 God ;  as  God  the  Word ;  as  God  the 
 Judge  ;  as  Emmanuel  ;  as  King  of  kings 
 and  Lord  of  lords  ;  as  the  Holy  One  ;  as 
 the  Lord  from  heaven  ;  as  the  Loril  of  the 
 Sabbath ;  as  Lord  of  all  ;  as  Son  of  God ; 
 as  the  Only  Begotten  Son  of  the  Father : 
 His  blood  is  called  the  blood  of  God ;  as 
 One  with  the  Father ;  as  sending  the  Spirit 
 equally  with  the  Father ;  as  entitled  to 
 equal  honour  with  the  Father;  as  Owner 
 of  all  things  equally  with  the  Father ;  as 
 unrestricted  by  the  law  of  the  Sabbath 
 equally  with  the  Father ;  as  unsearchable 
 equally   with   the  Father;    as  Creator  of 
 
 all  thitigs;  as  Supporter  and  Preserver 
 of  all  th'ngs;  as  possessed  of  the  ,'L,lness 
 of  the  Godhead ;  as  raising  the  dead ;  as 
 raising  Himself  irom  the  dead  ;  as  Eternal ; 
 as  Omnipresent;  as  Omnipotent;  as  Om- 
 niscient ;  as  discerning  the  thoughts  of 
 the  heart ;  as  Unchangeable ;  as  having 
 power  to  forgive  sins;  as  Giver  of  pastors 
 to  the  Church  :  as  Husband  of  the  Church; 
 as  the  Object  of  Divine  worship ;  as  the 
 Object  of  taith  ;  as  God,  He  redeems  and 
 purifies  the  Church  unto  Himself;  as  God, 
 He  presents  the  Church  unto  Himself; 
 Saints  live  unto  Him  as  God."  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— Emblems  of. 
 
 Cast  thine  eyes  which  way  thou  wilt,  and 
 thou  shalt  hardly  look  on  anything  but 
 Christ  Jesus  hath  taken  the  name  of 
 that  very  thing  upon  Himself.  Is  it  day  ? 
 and  dost  thou  behold  the  sun?  He  is 
 called  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  Or  is  it 
 night?  and  dost  thou  behold  the  stars? 
 He  is  called  a  star  :  "  There  shall  come  a 
 Star  out  of  Jacob."  Or  is  it  morning  ? 
 and  dost  thou  behold  the  morning  star  ? 
 He  is  called  "the  bright  Morning  star." 
 Or  is  it  noon  ?  and  dost  thou  behold  clear 
 light  all  the  world  over  ?  He  is  "  that 
 Light,  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh 
 into  the  world."  Come  a  little  nearer  :  if 
 thou  lookest  on  the  earth,  and  takest  a  view 
 of  the  creatures  about  thee,  seest  thou  the 
 sheep  ?  "  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearer  is 
 dumb,  so  He  opened  not  His  mouth."  Or 
 seest  thou  a  lamb  ?  "  behold  the  Lamb  of 
 God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
 world."  Seest  thou  a  shepherd  watching 
 over  his  flock  ?  "  I  am  the  good  Shepherd, 
 and  know  my  sheep,  and  am  known  of 
 mine."  Or  seest  thou  a  fountain,  rivers, 
 waters  ?  He  is  called  a  fountain — "  in  that 
 day  there  shall  be  a  Fountain  opened  to 
 the  house  of  David."  Or  seest  thou  a  tree 
 good  for  food,  or  pleasant  to  the  eye  ?  He 
 is  called  "  the  Tree  of  life."  Seest  thou  a 
 rose,  a  lily,  any  fair  flower  in  a  garden  ? 
 He  is  "  the  Rose  of  Sharon,  and  the  Lily  of 
 the  vallies."  To  come  a  little  nearer  yet : 
 art  thou  adorning  thyself,  and  takest  thou 
 a  view  of  thy  garments  ?  He  is  a  garment 
 — "  Put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
 Art  thou  eating  meat,  and  takest  a  view  of 
 what  is  on  thy  table  ?  He  is  the  Bread  of 
 God  ;  true  Bread  from  heaven  ;  the  Bread 
 of  Life.  Isaac  Ambrose. 
 
 CHRIST— Empire  of. 
 
 Wliat  an  empire  is  this!  Heaven  and 
 earth— the  Church  militant — the  Church 
 triumphant — angels  and  archangels — saints 
 and  seraphs.  At  His  mandate  the  billows 
 were  hushed — demons  crouched  in  terror — 
 the  grave  yielded  its  prey !  "  Upon  His 
 head  are  many  crowns."  He  is  made 
 "Head  over    all    things  to  His  Church." 
 
CHEIST. 
 
 123 
 
 Yes !  over  all  things,  from  the  rainntest  to 
 mightiest.  He  holds  the  stars  in  His  right 
 hand : — He  walks  in  the  midst  of  the  seven 
 golden  candlesticks,  feeding  every  candle- 
 stick with  the  oil  of  His  grace,  and  pre- 
 serving every  star  in  its  spiritual  orhit. 
 
 J.  A.  Macduff. 
 CHRIST— Equal  with  God. 
 
 It  was  during  the  reign  of  Theodosius 
 the  Great,  in  the  fourth  century,  that  the 
 Arians  made  their  most  vigorous  attempts 
 to  undermine  the  doctrine  of  the  divinity 
 of  Jesus  Christ.  The  event,  however,  of 
 his  making  his  son  Arcadius  partner  with 
 himself  on  his  throne  was  happily  over- 
 ruled in  the  following  manner,  to  his 
 seeing  the  God-dishonouring  character  of 
 their  creed. 
 
 Among  the  bishops  who  came  to  congra- 
 tulate him  on  the  occasion  was  the  famous 
 and  esteemed  Amphilochus,  who,  it  is  said, 
 suil'ered  much  under  the  Arian  persecution. 
 He  approached  the  emperor,  and,  making 
 a  very  handsome  and  dutiful  address,  was 
 going  to  take  his  leave. 
 
 "  What !"  said  Theodosius,  "  do  you  take 
 no  notice  of  my  son  ?  Do  you  not  know 
 that  I  have  made  him  a  partner  with  me 
 in  the  empire  ?" 
 
 Upon  tliis  the  good  old  bishop  went  to 
 young  Arcadius,  then  about  sixteen  years 
 of  age,  and  putting  his  hand  upon  his  head, 
 said,  "  The  Lord  bless  thee,  my  son,"  and 
 immediately  drew  back. 
 
 Even  this  did  not  satisfy  the  emperor. 
 "  What,"  said  he,  "  is  this  all  the  respect 
 you  pay  to  a  prince  that  I  have  made  of 
 equal  dignity  with  myself  ?" 
 
 Upon  tliis  the  bishop  arose,  and  looking 
 the  emperor  in  the  face,  with  a  tone  of 
 voice  solemnly  indignant,  said,  "  Sir,  do 
 you  so  highly  resent  my  apparent  neglect 
 of  your  son  because  I  do  not  give  him  equal 
 honour  with  yourself?  What  must  the 
 eternal  God  think  of  you,  who  have  allowed 
 His  co-equal  and  co-eterual  Son  to  be  de- 
 graded in  His  proper  divinity  in  every  part 
 of  your  empire  '"  I 
 
 This  was  as  a  two-edged  sword  in  the  heart 
 of  the  emperor.     He  felt  the  reproof  to  be  [ 
 just  and  confounding,  and  no  longer  would 
 seem  to  give  the  least  indulgence  to  that  i 
 creed  which  did  not  secure  the  divine  glory 
 to  the  "  Prince  of  Peace."  Dr.  Jeffers.  ■ 
 
 CHRIST-  an  Example.  j 
 
 Jesus  Christ  is  set  forth  by  the  sacred 
 writers  as  the  perfect  pattern  of  Christian 
 duty.  By  which  we  must  understand,  not  I 
 that  He  fulHlled  all  the  duties  which  a  ! 
 Christian  life  may  embrace,  but  all  which  j 
 were  within  His  spere  of  action.  It  is  j 
 perfection  in  the  mode,  i-ather  than  in  the  ' 
 extent  which  it  embraces.  It  will  never-  ' 
 theless  be  found,  on  a  very  little  reflection,  i 
 to  be  extensive  enough  to  furnish  a  model 
 
 for  the  chief  part  of  every  man's  life,  and 
 to  be  applicable  in  many  points  which 
 would  appear  at  first  to  lie  beyond  its 
 compass.  Thus,  as  a  worker  of  miracles. 
 His  example  cannot  indeed  be  literally 
 imitated,  but  it  may  still  be  adapted  to  the 
 case  of  all.  The  same  benevolence  which 
 was  evinced  in  the  exercise  of  Divine  means 
 by  Him  may  be  testiiied  in  our  behaviour, 
 by  the  use  of  human  means  conducive  to 
 the  same  purpose.  We  cannot,  indeed, 
 redeem  a  world  by  the  sacrifice  of  our  lives, 
 but  many  sacrifices  and  personal  denials 
 there  are  which  conduce  to  the  welfare  of 
 others,  and  in  making  these  we  shall  be 
 acting  like  our  Great  Example.  We  i;annot 
 save  men's  souls,  but  we  may  help  them 
 in  the  way  of  salvation ;  and  although  we 
 have  no  power  to  ascend  to  heaven  by  any 
 eflbrts  of  our  own,  by  looking  steadfastly 
 on  Him  who  has  gone  before  us,  we  may 
 kindle  that  hope  and  that  faith  whereby 
 we  shall  ascend  to  heaven  like  Him. 
 
 Again,  there  are  relations  of  domestic 
 and  public  life  out  of  which  duties  arise, 
 such  as  the  Saviour  cannot  be  literally  said 
 to  have  fulfilled,  because  He  stood  not  in 
 those  relations,  and  had  no  opportunity  of 
 exemplifying  the  practice  of  the  duties. 
 We  cannot  contemplate  Him  as  a  father 
 and  a  master  of  a  household,  but  we  see 
 Him  in  the  bosoni  of  His  apostolic  family; 
 those  whom,  as  if  with  this  design,  He 
 calls  His  mother  and  His  brethren;  and 
 what  example  could  more  forcibly  recom- 
 mend the  observance  of  family  prayer,  for 
 instance,  than  that  which  He  has  so  exhi- 
 bited, by  adding  to  His  solitary  devotions, 
 and  to  His  attendance  on  public  service 
 of  the  synagogue,  the  custom  of  praying  iu 
 private  with  His  disciples. 
 
 If  we  consider  the  sphere  of  life  in  which 
 our  Lord  moved,  it  will  be  seen  that  al- 
 though His  example  thus  became  applicable 
 to  many  cases  strictly  beyond  it,  yet  it  was 
 more  particularly  suited  to  the  exercise  of 
 those  moi-al  duties  which  are  peculiar  to 
 the  Christian  scheme,  viz.,  humility  and 
 forgiveness  of  injuries.  The  propriety  and 
 advantage  of  this  is  obvious.  To  the  heathen 
 moralist  these  qualities,  considered  as 
 virtues,  were  as  new  as  the  doctrines  of  the 
 Atonement  and  the  Resurrection.  To  the 
 Jew,  the  latter  at  least  was  equally  so;  and 
 both  required  that  the  practice  of  them 
 should  be  recommended  by  a  life  such  as 
 the  Saviour  led,  in  which  His  condescen- 
 sion in  dw^elling  amongst  us  was  more 
 apparent  from  His  poverty  and  lowliness 
 than  if  He  had  been  numbered  with  the 
 rich  and  powerful ;  whilst  His  every  act  of 
 mercy,  and  His  every  word  of  exhortation 
 to  the  Jews,  was  a  return  of  good  for  evil. 
 The  closing  scene  of  His  ministry  was  only 
 a  more  prominent  display  of  those  Gospel 
 virtues  exemplified  in  the  whole  course  of 
 
124 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 it.  He  submittecl  voluntarily  to  a  death 
 appropriated  to  the  meanest  criminals,  and 
 He  died  i^raying  for  His  enemies. 
 
 £p.  Minds. 
 
 Think  of  Christ's  appointed  work,  the 
 greatest  that  ever  was  to  be  done  on  the 
 earlh  ;  so  great  as  to  he  a  counteraction 
 to  all  the  sins  of  all  the  saved  !  and  at 
 an  awful  cost  of  endurance.  Wliat  toils, 
 what  grievances,  what  terrors  (as  to  His 
 humanity)  attend  His  mighty  task  !  But 
 if  He  had  been  "  wearied,"  and  left  but 
 one  thing  undone  !  If  He  had  shrunk  and 
 failed,  what  sensation  in  heaven — hell — 
 earth  !  Let  His  followers  advert  to  that 
 when  tempted  to  shrink  from  service,  and 
 to  say  it  is  too  much.  When  this  repug- 
 nance arises,  go  and  look  at  Him  !  Even 
 imagine  as  if  any  given  Christian  service 
 had  been  to  be  performed  in  His  presence 
 — under  His  inspection;  would  you  then 
 he  weary  ?  He  is  the  grand,  transcendent 
 example,  to  show  that  a  good  work  must 
 be  gone  tlirough  with ;  to  constitute  it 
 such,  the  conclusion  is  indispensable  :  "  He 
 that  endureth  to  the  end  shall  be  saved  ;" 
 "  he  that  looketh  back  is  not  fit  for  the 
 kingdom  of  God."  John  Foster. 
 
 One  day,  thinking  to  amuse  him,  his  wife 
 read  to  Dr.  Judson  some  newspaper  notices, 
 in  which  he  was  compared  to  one  or  other 
 of  the  apostles.  He  was  exceedingly  dis- 
 tressed, and  then  he  added,  "  Nor  do  I 
 want  to  be  like  them ;  I  do  not  want  to  be 
 like  Paul,  nor  Apollos,  nor  Cephas,  nor  any 
 mere  man.  I  want  to  he  like  Christ.  We 
 have  only  one  perfectly  safe  Exemplar — 
 only  One  who,  tempted  like  as  we  are  in 
 every  point,  is  still  without  sin.  I  want 
 to  follow  Him  only,  copy  His  teachings, 
 drink  in  His  Spirit,  place  my  feet  in  His 
 footprints,  and  measure  their  shortcomings 
 by  these,  and  these  only.  Oh,  to  be  more 
 like  Christ !"  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 CHRIST— Excellencies  of. 
 
 Christ  is  a  Rare  Jewel,  hut  men  know 
 not  His  value ;  a  Sun  which  ever  shines, 
 hut  men  perceive  not  His  brightness,  nor 
 walk  in  His  light.  He  is  a  Garden  full  of 
 sweets,  a  Hive  full  of  honey,  a  Sun  without 
 a  spot,  a  Star  ever  bright,  a  Fountain  ever 
 full,  a  Brook  which  ever  flows,  a  Rose 
 which  ever  blooms,  a  Foundation  which 
 never  yields,  a  Guide  who  never  errs,  a 
 Friend  who  never  forsakes.  No  mind  can 
 fully  grasp  His  glory;  His  beauty.  His 
 worth.  His  importance,  no  tongue  can  fully 
 declare.  He  is  the  Source  of  all  good,  the 
 Fountain  of  every  excellency,  the  Mirror 
 of  perfection,  the  Light  of  heaven,  the 
 Wonder  of  earth,  time's  Masterpiece,  and 
 
 eternity's  Glory  ;  the  Sun  of  bliss,  the 
 Way  of  life,  and  Life's  fair  way.  "  He  is 
 altogether  lovely,"  says  the  saint;  a  Morn- 
 ing without  clouds,  a  Day  without  night, 
 a  Rose  without  a  thorn ;  His  lips  drop  like 
 the  honeycomb,  His  eyes  beam  tenderness, 
 His  heart  gushes  love.  The  Christian  is 
 fed  by  His  hands,  carried  in  His  heart, 
 supported  by  His  arm,  nursed  in  His 
 bosom,  guided  by  His  eye,  instructed  by 
 His  lips,  warmed  by  His  love  ;  His  wounds 
 are  his  life.  His  smile  the  light  of  his  path, 
 the  health  of  His  soul,  his  rest  and  heaven 
 below.  Bat  fern. 
 
 CHRIST— Fidelity  to. 
 
 The  firmness  of  the  venerable  Polycarp 
 in  persecution  unto  death,  is  known  to  all. 
 Urged  by  the  chief  officer  to  pay  religious 
 honours  to  the  emperor,  he  mildly  replied, 
 "  I  shall  not 'do  as  you  advise  me."  "  Swear, 
 curse  Christ,  and  I  release  you."  "  Sixty- 
 eight  years  have  T  served  Him,  and  He  has 
 done  me  nothing  but  good;  how  then  can 
 I  curse  Him,  my  Lord  and  my  Saviour?" 
 At  the  stake,  when  thej'  were  about  to  bind 
 him,  he  said,  "  Leave  me  as  I  am.  He 
 who  has  strengthened  me  to  encounter  the 
 flames,  will  enable  me  to  stand  firm  at  the 
 stake."  Anon. 
 
 CHRIST— Flying  to. 
 
 As  birds  in  a  string  may  fly  high,  but 
 when  they  come  to  the  end  of  tlie  line,  they 
 fall  down  there;  and  so,  though  the  soul 
 flies  to  Christ,  yet  when,  indeed,  it  comes 
 to  the  end  of  parting  with  all,  it  falls  down 
 and  falls  from  Christ.  T.  Shephard. 
 
 CHRIST— our  Forerunner. 
 
 Under  the  law,  the  high-priest  entered 
 into  the  holy  of  holies  with  all  the  names 
 of  the  tribes  on  his  breast ;  even  so  doth 
 Christ  enter  into  heaven  with  ours ;  there- 
 by showing  that  we  are  to  come  after  Him : 
 and  this  is  more  than  simply  to  prepare  a 
 place ;  it  is  to  take  possession  of  a  place, 
 and  give  us  a  right  thereto.  See  Heb. 
 vi,  20.  T.  Goodwin. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Foundation. 
 
 Men  who  stand  on  any  other  foundation 
 than  the  rock  Christ  Jesus,  are  like  birds 
 that  build  in  trees  by  the  side  of  rivers. 
 Tile  birds  sing  in  the  branches,  and  the 
 river  sings  below,  but  all  the  while  the 
 waters  are  undermining  the  soil  about  the 
 roots,  till,  in  some  unsuspected  hour,  the 
 tree  falls  with  a  crash  into  the  stream ; 
 and  then  its  nest  is  sunk,  its  home  is  gone, 
 and  the  bird  is  a  wanderer.  But  birds  that 
 hide  their  young  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock 
 are  undisturbed,  and  after  every  winter, 
 coming  again,  they  find  their  nests  await- 
 ing them,  and  all  their  life  long  brood  the 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 125 
 
 summer  in  the  same  places,  impregnable  to 
 time  or  storm.  -H.  IF.  Beecher. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Fountain. 
 
 "  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto 
 me  and  driuli."  What  man  would  dare  to 
 say  of  merely  physical  things,  •'  If  any  man 
 lacks  knowledge,  let  him  come  to  me  ? " 
 Neither  Humboldt,  nor  Liebig,  nor  Agassiz 
 would  dare  to  say  this,  even  of  the  depart- 
 inents  in  which  they  are  i^re-emineut,  how 
 much  less  of  the  whole  range  of  learning ! 
 yet  Christ,  disdaining  physical  things,  ap- 
 peals at  once  to  the  soul  with  all  its  yearn- 
 ings, its  depths  of  despair,  its  claspings — 
 like  a  mother  feeling  at  midnight  for  the 
 child  whom  death  has  taken, — its  infinite 
 outreachings,  its  longings  for  love  and 
 peace  and  joy,  which  nothing  can  satisfy 
 this  side  of  the  bosom  of  God,  and  says, 
 "  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me 
 and  th-ink."  He  stands  over  against  what- 
 ever want  there  is  in  the  human  bosom, 
 whatever  hunger  there  is  in  the  moral 
 faculties,  whatever  need  there  is  in  the 
 imagination,  and  says,  "  He  that  cometh 
 to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  be- 
 lieveth  on  me  shall  never  thirst."         Ibid. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Friend. 
 
 He  is  an  aftectionate  Friend;  a  bounti- 
 ful and  beneficent  Friend  ;  a  constant  and 
 comforting  Friend ;  a  decided  Friend ;  an 
 everlasting  Friend;  a  faithful  Friend;  a 
 gracious  Friend ;  a  holy  Friend ;  an  inter- 
 ceding Friend  ;  a  just  Friend  ;  a  kind 
 Friend ;  a  loving  Friend  ;  a  merciful 
 Friend ;  a  near  Friend ;  an  omniscient 
 and  omnipresent  Friend  ;  a  patient  and 
 powerful  Friend ;  a  quiet  Friend ;  a  righ- 
 teous Friend ;  a  saving  and  sympathising 
 Friend ;  a  trustworthy  and  truthful  Friend ; 
 an  unparalleled  Friend ;  a  virtuous  Friend  ; 
 a  wonderful  Friend;  a  yearning  Friend; 
 a  zealous  Friend.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— Friendship  of. 
 
 There  is  nothing  so  pleasing  in  human 
 friendships  as  the  modifications  of  character 
 that  are  wrought  by  intimacy.  Better  than 
 martial  victories  are  "  the  silent  triumphs 
 of  wisdom,"  as  souls  are  quietly  turned  off 
 from  unseemly  ways  and  led  to  a  loftier 
 life.  If,  then,  we  become  the  intimate 
 friends  of  Christ,  we  may  expect  singular 
 modifications  of  character  to  arise  from  the 
 very  variety  and  proportion  of  His  cha- 
 racteristics. 
 
 If  a  man  were  inflated  by  wealth,  Christ 
 would  appear  to  him  as  having  no  home 
 to  rest  in.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  man 
 were  oppressed  by  poverty  and  pinched  by 
 want,  Christ  would  appear  cheering  him 
 with  the  hope  of  heaven  and  the  golden 
 crown. 
 
 If  one  should  become  the  friend  of  Christ 
 
 and  retain  a  proud  spirit,  Christ  would  ask 
 him  to  bear  cups  of  cold  water  and  wash 
 the  feet  of  His  disciples.  If,  on  the  other 
 hand,  the  man  was  lowly  and  discouraged, 
 Christ  would  appear  to  him  promising 
 thrones  and  dominions. 
 
 Of  a  wasteful  man  Christ  would  demand 
 care  in  gathering  up  fragments.  To  a 
 hoarding  man  Christ  would  say,  "  Labour 
 not  for  that  meat  which  perisheth." 
 
 To  those  who  are  light  and  joyous,  Christ 
 appears  weeping  over  the  doom  of  the  lost. 
 To  those  who  are  oppressed  with  grief, 
 Christ  appears  as  in  the  solemn  hours  of 
 His  last  supper  with  His  disciples,  in  the 
 silence  of  the  midnight,  singing  the  Hallel, 
 the  great  song  of  praise  to  God. 
 
 To  those  that  engage  in  too  much  gaiety, 
 Christ  appears  holding  out  His  crown  of 
 thorns  to  check  unseemly  mirth.  But  to 
 a  man  in  great  despondency.  He  appears 
 bidding  him  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad 
 though  in  the  midst  of  persecutions. 
 
 We  are  of  disproportionate  life,  and  if 
 we  fondly  cling  to  new  graves  and  refuse 
 to  take  up  again  the  burden  of  life,  Christ 
 appears,  roughly  declaring,  "  Let  tlie  dead 
 bury  their  dead :  follow  thou  me."  Or,  if 
 we  straiglitway  forget  the  dead  and  are 
 cold  and  unmoved  by  opening  tombs,  Christ 
 appears  weeping  at  the  grave  of  a  friend, 
 or  touching  the  bier  of  the  only  son  of  a 
 widow. 
 
 We  are  disproportionate,  and  if  our  souls 
 are  cold  and  turn  away  from  human  friend- 
 ships as  of  no  use,  Christ  appears  at  the 
 house  in  Bethany,  or  in  dying  commends 
 His  mother  to  the  care  of  His  beloved 
 disciple.  But  if  our  souls  are  tangled  and 
 too  much  wedded  to  earthly  friendships. 
 He  appears  demanding  that  we  hate  father 
 and  mother  and  all  relationships,  and  bids 
 us  forsake  all  and  follow  Him. 
 
 We  are  disproportionate.  Christ  then 
 exhibits  Himself  as  tender  or  rough,  to 
 suit  our  peculiar  case.  If  our  souls  are 
 fearful  and  trembling.  He  will  queiich  no 
 smoking  flax.  If  our  souls  are  bold  and 
 fiery.  He  appears  scourging  hypocrites  from 
 His  temple  and  denouncing  the  Sadducees 
 and  Pharisees.  If  our  souls  love  peace, 
 Christ  is  the  Prince  of  Peace.  But  if  out 
 souls  are  valiant  for  fight.  He  comes  not  to 
 bring  peace,  but  a  sword. 
 
 Is  a  man  too  dependent  on  others? 
 Christ  appears  treading  the  winepress 
 alone.  Is  a  man  lonely  in  warfare  with 
 evil  powers  ?  Christ  appears  declaring 
 that  twelve  legions  of  angels  are  in 
 waiting. 
 
 If  a  man  is  legal  and  clings  to  the  old 
 Mosaic  economy  and  the  tradition  of  men, 
 Christ  appears  to  him  rejecting  the  letter 
 of  the  law  and  overturning  old  ceremonies. 
 But  if  a  man  is  of  a  careless  order  of  mind 
 and  would  riot  in  unholy  liberty,  Christ 
 
126 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 appears  to  tim  declarins^  that  not  one  jot 
 or  one  tittle  of  the  law  shall  fail. 
 
 To  those  of  timid,  feehlc  inind,  Christ 
 comes  teaching  the  most  invigorating  and 
 terrihie  doctrines.  To  those  of  uncom- 
 promising, severe,  and  cold  intellects, 
 Christ  comes  showing  how  He  can  die  for 
 His  enemies. 
 
 Thus  the  whole  character  is  rounded  to 
 perfection  through  the  modifying  friend- 
 ship of  Christ.  Br.  Smith. 
 
 CHEIST— Fulness  of. 
 
 When  He  speaks  to  His  dependent 
 creatures,  He  does  so  in  a  way  which  con- 
 vinces us  that  He  is  conscious  of  the  un- 
 bounded blessings  that  are  at  His  disposal. 
 He  speaks  in  a  way  that  no  earthly  being, 
 however  wealthy  and  generous,  has  done. 
 "  The  half  of  the  kingdom  "  is  the  broad- 
 est promise  of  man  to  his  most  favorite 
 suppliants.  But  Christ  says,  "  What- 
 soever ye  shall  ask  in  my  name  that  will 
 I  do."  "  If  ye  shall  ask  anything  in  my 
 name,  I  will  do  it."  Does  not  this  show 
 the  fulness  of  Christ  to  extend  at  least  to 
 the  utmost  petition  of  man  as  taught  by 
 the  Word  and  the  Spirit  of  God;  and 
 how  fiir  this  may  go  there  is  no  mortal  on 
 earth  that  can  say.  As  nature  contains  a 
 fulness  to  give  to  man  all  tilings  what- 
 soever he  needs  for  every  purpose  in  life, 
 so  Christ  possesses  a  fulness  for  everj^  pur- 
 pose of  the  life  of  the  soul.  The  sun  in  its 
 fulness  of  light,  the  ocean  in  its  fulness  of 
 water,  the  air  in  its  fulness  of  life-sustain- 
 ing properties,  the  earth  in  its  fulness  of 
 resources  to  supply  man's  necessities,  are 
 emblems  of  the  fulness  of  love,  mercy, 
 wisdom,  salvation,  &c.,  which  are  in  Christ 
 for  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  immortal 
 soul.  John  Bate. 
 
 I  have  found  it  an  interesting  thing  to 
 stand  on  the  edge  of  a  noble  rolling  river, 
 and  to  think,  that  although  it  has  been 
 flowing  on  for  six  thousand  years,  watering 
 the  fields,  and  slaking  the  thirst  of  a  hun- 
 dred generations,  it  shows  no  signs  of  waste 
 or  want;  and  when  I  have  watched  the 
 rise  of  the  sun,  as  he  shot  above  the  crest 
 of  the  mountain,  or  in  a  sky  draped  with 
 golden  curtains  sprang  up  from  his  ocean 
 bed,  I  have  wondered  to  think  that  he  has 
 melted  the  snows  of  so  many  winters,  and 
 renewed  the  verdure  of  so  many  springs,' 
 and  painted  the  flowers  of  so  many  summers, 
 and  ripened  the  golden  harvests  of  so  many 
 autumns,  and  yet  shines  as  brilliant  as  ever, 
 his  eye  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  strength 
 abated,  nor  his  floods  of  light  less  full  "for 
 centuries  of  boundless  profusion.  Yet  what 
 are  these  but  images  of  the  fulness  that  is 
 in  Christ  ?  Let  that  feed  your  hopes  and 
 cheer  your  hearts,  and  brighten  your  faith, 
 and  send  you  away  this  day   happy  and 
 
 rejoicing.  For  when  judgment  flames  have 
 licked  up  that  flowing  stream,  and  the 
 light  of  that  glorious  sun  shall  be  quenched 
 in  darkness,  or  veiled  in  the  smoke  of  a 
 burning  world,  the  fulness  that  is  in  Christ 
 shall  flow  on  throughout  eternity  in  the  bliss 
 of  the  redeemed.  Blessed  Saviour,  Image 
 of  God,  Divine  Redeemer,  in  Thy  presence 
 is  fulness  of  joy;  at  Thy  right  hand  there 
 are  pleasures  for  evermore.  What  Thou 
 hast  gone  to  heaven  to  prepare  may  we  be 
 called  up  at  death  to  enjoy.     Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHRIST— Glory  of. 
 
 His  birth  was  mean  on  earth  below  ;  but 
 it  was  celebrated  with  Hallelujahs  by  the 
 heavenly  host  in  the  air  above  ;  He  had  a 
 poor  lodging,  but  a  star  lighted  visitants  to 
 it  from  distant  countries.  Never  Prince 
 had  such  visitants  so  conducted.  He  had 
 not  the  magnificent  equipage  that  other 
 kings  have,  but  He  was  attended  with 
 multitudes  of  patients,  seeking  and  obtain- 
 ing healing  of  soul  and  body;  that  was 
 more  true  greatness  than  if  He  had  been 
 attended  with  crowds  of  princes.  He  made 
 the  dumb  that  attended  Him  sing  His 
 praises,  and  the  lame  to  leap  for  joy,  the 
 deaf  to  hear  His  wonders,  and  the  blind  to 
 see  His  glory.  He  had  no  guard  of  soldiers, 
 nor  magnificent  retiime  of  servants;  but, 
 as  the  centurion  that  had  both,  acknow- 
 ledged, health  and  sickness  life  and  death, 
 took  orders  from  Him.  Even  the  winds 
 and  storms,  which  no  earthly  power  can 
 control,  obeyed  Him  ;  and  death  and  the 
 grave  durst  not  refuse  to  deivSi-  up  their 
 prey  when  He  demandetl  it.  ile  did  not 
 walk  upon  tapestry,  but  when  He  walked 
 on  the  sea  the  waters  supported  Him.  All 
 parts  of  the  creation,  excepting  sinful  men, 
 honoured  Him  as  their  Creator.  He  kept 
 no  treasure,  but  when  He  had  occasion  for 
 money,  the  sea  sent  it  to  Him  in  the  mouth 
 of  a  fish  :  He  had  no  barns,  nor  corn-fields, 
 but  when  He  inclined  to  make  a  feast,  a 
 few  loaves  covered  a  sufiicient  table  for 
 many  thousands.  None  of  all  the  monarchs 
 of  the  world  ever  gave  such  entertainment. 
 By  these,  and  many  such  things,  the  Re- 
 deemer's glory  shone  through  His  mean- 
 ness, in  the  several  parts  of  His  life.  Nor 
 was  it  wholly  clouded  at  His  death ;  He 
 had  not,  indeed,  that  fantastic  equipage  of 
 sorrow  that  other  great  persons  have  on 
 such  occasions :  but  the  frame  of  nature 
 solemnised  the  death  of  its  Author ;  heaven 
 and  earth  were  mourners.  The  sun  was 
 clad  in  black ;  and,  if  the  inhabitants  of 
 the  earth  were  unmoved,  the  earth  itself 
 trembled  under  the  awful  load  :  there  were 
 few  to  pay  the  Jewish  compliment  of  rend- 
 ing their  garments,  but  the  rocks  were  not 
 so  insensible ;  they  rent  their  bowels  ;  He 
 had  not  a  grave  of  His  own,  but  other 
 men's  graves  opened  to  Him.     Death  and 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 127 
 
 the  grave  miglit  be  proud  of  such  a  tenant 
 in  their  territories,  but  He  came  not  there 
 as  a  subject,  but  as  an  invader, — a  con- 
 queror :  it  was  then  the  king  of  terroi-s  lost 
 his  sting ;  and  on  the  third  day  the  Prince 
 of  Life  triumphed  over  him,  spoiling  death 
 and  the  grave.  J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 CHEIST— God  seen  in. 
 
 A  man  cannot  behold  the  sun  in  its 
 brightness,  it  so  dazzleth  his  eyes.  What 
 doth  he  then  ?  He  sets  down  a  basin  of 
 water,  and  seeth  the  image  of  the  sun 
 shadowed  in  the  water.  So,  seeing  we 
 cannot  beliold  the  infinite  God,  nor  com- 
 prehend Him,  we  must  then  cast  the  eyes 
 of  our  faith  upon  His  image,  Christ  Jesus. 
 When  we  look  into  a  clear  glass  it  casteth 
 no  shadow  to  us ;  but  put  steel  upon  the 
 back,  then  it  casteth  a  reflex,  and  showeth 
 the  face  in  the  glass.  So,  when  we  cannot 
 see  God  Himself,  we  must  put  the  manhood 
 of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  (as  it  were  a  back 
 to  His  Godhead),  and  then  we  shall  have  a 
 comfortable  reflex  to  His  glory. 
 
 Spencer. 
 
 CHRIST— Humiliation  of. 
 
 The  Highest  would  make  Himself  the 
 lowest.  He  who  was  above  the  heavens 
 would  not  only  come  down  to  the  earth, 
 but  would  "make  Himself  of  no  reputa- 
 tion "  in  the  earth  !  He  would  be  reckoned 
 as  no  one.  He  would  be  an  outcnst 
 from  among  men,  and  meekly  take  His 
 place  amongst  cattle.  He  would  hide 
 Himself  in  a  hole  of  the  earth,  as  though 
 He  were  "  a  worm,  and  no  man."  He  chose 
 this  humiliation  for  Himself.  It  was  in 
 His  heart  before  the  world  was.  The  Only 
 Begotten  of  the  Father  meditated  every 
 step  and  incident  in  His  humiliation.  He 
 would  become  as  one  "  despised  and  re- 
 jected" of  His  creatures.  He  would  fulfil 
 the  lowest  office  on  their  behalf  He  would 
 wash  their  feet,  and  after  having  spoken 
 nothing  but  truth,  and  done  nothing 
 but  good,  though  innocent  as  a  lamb.  He 
 would  submit  to  every  indignity  and  cruelty 
 as  though  He  were  the  chief  of  malefactors, 
 and  while  dying  in  torture  would  suffer 
 Himself  to  be  hissed  out  of  the  world  which 
 He  came  to  redeem.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 All  after  humiliations  of  our  Lord  were 
 nothing  to  the  first,  namely,  that  of  His 
 Incarnation.  The  great  humiliation  was 
 to  make  Himself  flesh.  That  being  done, 
 the  manger  and  the  cross,  and  all  that  lay 
 between,  were,  comparatively,  small  con- 
 siderations. "  Being  found  in  fashion  as  a 
 man,"  it  is  not  half  so  surprising  that  He 
 should  surrender  himself  to  be  despised 
 and  crucified,  as  that,  being  Lord  of  all, 
 He  should  be  willing  to  put  on  our  mortal 
 
 flesh.  Self- intelligent  men  find  difficulty 
 in  conceiving  Jesus  Christ  to  be  the  Lord 
 our  God,  but  simple  hearts  never  did,  and 
 never  will.  The  law  is  well  known  in 
 heaven  by  which  the  sweet  mystery  is 
 "  hidden  from  the  wi&e  and  prudent,  and 
 revealed  unto  babes."  Ibid. 
 
 CHRIST— Humiliation  and  Glory  of. 
 
 A  king  which  the  world  admires  is  one 
 of  extensive  power,  with  numerous  armies, 
 a  golden  crown  and  sceptre,  a  throne  of 
 state,  magnificent  palaces,  sumptuous 
 feasts,  many  attendants  of  high  rank,  im- 
 mense treasures  to  enrich  them  with,  and 
 various  posts  of  honour  to  prefer  them  to. 
 
 Here  was  the  reverse  of  all  this  :  for  a 
 crown  of  gold,  a  crown  of  thorns ;  for  a 
 sceptre,  a  reed  put  in  His  hand  in  derision  ; 
 for  a  throne,  a  cross ;  instead  of  palaces, 
 not  a  place  to  lay  His  head  in ;  instead  of 
 sumptuous  feasts  to  others, ofttimes  hungry 
 and  thirsty  Himself;  instead  of  great  at- 
 tendants, a  company  of  poor  fishermen;  in- 
 stead of  treasures  to  give  them,  not  money 
 enough  to  pay  tribute  without  working  a 
 miracle;  and  the  preferment  offered  them 
 was  to  give  each  of  them  his  cross  to  bear. 
 In  all  things  the  reverse  of  worldly  great- 
 ness, from  first  to  last :  a  manger  for-  a 
 cradle  at  His  birth  ;  not  a  place  to  lay  His 
 head  sometimes  in  His  life;  nor  a  grave  of 
 his  own  at  his  death. 
 
 Here  unbelief  frets  and  murmurs,  and 
 asks.  Where  is  all  the  glory  that  is  so  much 
 extolled  ?  For  discovering  this,  faith  needs 
 only  look  through  that  thin  vail  of  flesli ; 
 and  under  that  low  disguise  appears  the 
 Lord  of  glory,  the  King  of  kings,  the 
 Lord  of  Hosts,  strong  and  mighty  (Psa. 
 xxiv,  8).  The  Lord  mighty  in  battle;  the 
 heavens  His  throne;  the  earth  His  footstool; 
 the  light  His  garments ;  the  clouds  His  cha- 
 i-iots;  the  thunder  His  voice  ;  His  strength 
 omnipotence;  His  riches  all-sufficiency;  His 
 glory  infinite ;  His  retinue  the  hosts  of 
 heaven,  and  the  excellent  ones  of  the  earth ; 
 on  whom  He  bestows  riches  unsearchable, 
 an  inheritance  incorruptible,  banquets  of 
 everlasting  joys,  and  preferments  of  im- 
 mortal honour,  making  them  kings  and 
 priests  unto  God;  conquerors,  yea,  and 
 more  than  conquerors;  children  of  God, 
 and  mystically  one  with  Himself. 
 
 J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 To  conquer  and  to  save,  the  Son  of  God 
 
 Came  to  His  own  in  great  humility, 
 'Who     wont    to    ride    on    cherub    wings 
 abroad. 
 And  round  Him  wrap  the  mantle  of  the 
 sky. 
 The  mountains  bent  their  necks  to  form 
 His  road ; 
 The  clouds  dropt  down  their  fatness  from 
 on  hiffh  : 
 
128 
 
 CHEIST. 
 
 Beneath  His  feet  the   wild  waves   softly 
 flowed, 
 And  the  wind  kissed  His  garment  trem- 
 blingly. 
 
 The  sjrave  unbolted  half  his  grisly  door 
 (For  darkness  and  the  deep  had  heard 
 His  fame, 
 Nor   longer  might  their  ancient  rule  en- 
 dure) ; 
 The  mightiest  of  mankind  stood  hushed 
 and  tame; 
 And,  trooping  on  strong  wings.  His  angels 
 came 
 To    work    His    will,    and  kingdom  to 
 secure  ; 
 No  strength  He  needed,  save  His  Father's 
 name  ; 
 Babes  were  His  heralds  and  His  friends 
 the  poor.  £p.  Jleber. 
 
 CHEIST— the  Image  of  God. 
 
 Although  God  has  commanded  man  not 
 to  make  any  image  of  Himself  and  bow 
 down  and  worship  it  (that  would  be  idola- 
 try), yet  He  has  in  His  sovereign  prero- 
 gative given  to  man  an  image  of  Himself 
 in  tlie  person  of  His  Son ;  and  to  worship 
 Him  is  no  idolatry,  but  obedience. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 "  He  is  the  express  image  of  the  Person 
 of  the  Father."  As  the  print  of  the  seal  on 
 the  wax  is  the  express  image  of  the  seal 
 itself,  so  is  Christ  the  highest  representa- 
 tion of  God.  Isaac  Ambrose. 
 
 CHRIST— Incarnation  of. 
 
 That  He  should  be  the  seed  of  the  woman 
 was  made  known  to  Adam,  but  not  of  what 
 nation  till  Abraham,  nor  of  what  tribe  till 
 Jacob,  nor  of  what  sex  till  David,  nor 
 whether  born  of  a  virgin  till  Isaiah.  Thus 
 by  degrees  was  that  great  mystery  of  god- 
 liness revealed  to  mankind.  If  any  Jew 
 object,  saithChrysostom,  How  could  a  virgin 
 bring  forth  ? — "  Die  ei,  quomodo  peperit 
 sterilis  et  vetula  ?  " — Ask  him.  How  could 
 Sarah,  when  old  and  barren,  bear  a  child  ? 
 The  bees  have  young,  yet  know  not  mar- 
 riage. The  phccnix,  they  say,  hath  no 
 parents.  This  Head-stone  of  the  corner 
 was  cut  out  of  the  mountain  without  hands ; 
 this  flower  of  the  field,  this  rose  of  Sharon, 
 hath  heaven  for  His  father,  and  earth  for 
 His  mother.  Was  it  not  as  easy  to  frame 
 this  second  Adam  in  the  womb,  as  that 
 first  Adam  out  of  the  mire  ?  Herein  see  a 
 miracle  of  mercy,  tliat  the  incomprehensible 
 God,  that  circle  (whose  centre  is  every- 
 where, whose  circumference  nowhere) 
 should  be  circled  and  cooped  up  for  nine 
 months  together  in  the  narrow  womb  of  a 
 pure  virgin.  J.  Trapp. 
 
 CHEIST  (Incarnation  of)— Preparation  for 
 the. 
 
 All  the  sacrifices  off'ered  every  morning 
 and  evening  for  so  many  ages  were  pre- 
 parations for  it,  and  shadows  of  it.  The 
 same  may  be  said  of  other  figures  and 
 types.  The  church  of  God  for  four  thou- 
 sand years  waited  with  longing  looks  for 
 this  salvation  of  the  Lord;  they  were  re- 
 freshed with  the  sacrifices  that  prefigured 
 it.  The  heathens  themselves  had  their 
 sacrifices ;  they  had  sinfully  lost  the  tradi- 
 tion of  the  true  religion  and  the  Messiah, 
 handed  down  from  Noah ;  yet  Providence 
 ordered  it  so,  that  they  did  not  wholly  lose 
 the  rite  of  sacrificing.  There  is  reason 
 to  acknowledge  a  particular  Providence 
 preserving  tradition  in  this  point;  for 
 how  otherwise  could  it  enter  into  men's 
 heads  to  serve  their  gods  by  sacrificing 
 their  beasts  ?  It  was  useful  that  the  world 
 should  not  be  entirely  unacquainted  with 
 the  notion  of  a  sacrifice ;  the  substitution 
 of  the  innocent  in  the  room  of  the  guilty, 
 all  pointed  towards  this  great  oblation 
 which  was  to  make  all  others  to  cease 
 The  predictions  of  the  prophets  in  difi'erent 
 ages,  from  Moses  to  Malachi,  were  also 
 preparations  for  this  great  event.  John 
 the  Baptist  appeared  as  the  morning  star, 
 the  harbinger  of  the  Day-spring  from  on 
 high.  It  was  his  particular  office  to  pre- 
 pare the  way  of  the  Lord  before  him.  The 
 evidence  of  the  prophecies  was  bright ;  the 
 Jews  saw  the  time  approaching  ;  their  ex- 
 pectations were  big.  Counterfeit  Messiahs 
 took  advantage  of  it ;  and  not  only  the 
 Jews,  but  even  the  heathens,  probably  by 
 report  from  them,  had  a  notion  of  an  in- 
 comparably great  person  who  was  to  appear 
 about  that  time.  These,  besides  many 
 other  great  things,  serve  to  show  what 
 glorious  preparations  and  pomp  went 
 before  the  great  work  we  are  speaking  of. 
 J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 CHEIST— Innocence  of. 
 
 Pilate  had  found  no  fault  in  Him ;  yet 
 Pilate  had  delivered  Him  up  to  be  crucified. 
 The  Jews  had  been  unable  to  charge  Him 
 with  any  fault ;  yet  the  Jews  had  crucified 
 Him.  They  saw  nothing  but  the  hideous 
 mists  and  phantoms  of  their  own  passions, 
 of  their  own  envy  and  hatred  and  malice; 
 they  clothed  Jesus  in  the  dark  hues  of  those 
 passions;  and  then  they  nailed  Him  to  the 
 cross.  Not  knowing  what  righteousness 
 was,  they  could  not  recognise  it  when  it 
 came  and  stood  in  a  visible  form  before 
 them.  Loving  unrighteousness  rather  than 
 righteousness,  they  tried  to  quench  the 
 light  of  righteousness,  and  could  not  find 
 rest  until  they  trusted  they  had  built  up  a 
 thick  firmament  of  darkness  around  them, 
 and  extinguished  the  heavenly  ray  which 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 129 
 
 God  had  sent    through   the    darkness  to 
 scatter  it.  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 Our  eyes  are  keen  to  mark  the  impro- 
 prieties of  our  neighbours,  their  vices  are 
 generally  more  noticeable  to  us  than  their 
 virtues.  From  this  tendency  it  is  not  a 
 little  that  tells  in  favour  of  the  purity 
 of  Christ.  None  of  His  neighbours  could 
 charge  Him  with  any  moral  defect.  They 
 rould  not  say,  Is  not  this  the  intemperate, 
 the  false,  the  dishonest  ?  The  best  of  men 
 have  their  defects,  and  the  nearer  we  come 
 to  them  the  more  disposed  we  are  to  say, 
 "  We  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfection." 
 Men  whom  we  have  loved  and  almost  wor- 
 shipped in  the  distance  have,  as  we  ap- 
 proached them,  appeared  but  men.  But 
 the  nearer  you  approach  Christ,  and  the 
 more  you  inspect  His  character,  the  brighter 
 does  His  innocence  shine.         Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHE.IST— Intercessions  of. 
 
 When  the  fiery  displeasure  of  Jehovah 
 broke  out  upon  the  rebellious  Israelites  in 
 their  mutiny  against  Moses.  Aaron  ap- 
 peared with  his  mighty  intercessions,  and 
 arrested  the  progress  of  the  destroying 
 power;  so  Christ  appears  between  the 
 awakened  vengeance  of  God  and  sinners, 
 and  by  His  ever-living  intercessions  pre- 
 vents their  instantaneous  destruction. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 As  when  a  king  is  angry  with  a  subject 
 the  king's  son  marries  the  daughter  of  the 
 Bubject,  and  brings  him  into  favour  with 
 the  king  again,  so,  when  God  the  Father 
 ■was  angry  with  us,  Christ  married  himself 
 to  our  nature,  and  now  mediates  for  us 
 with  His  Father,  and  brings  us  to  be  friends 
 again,  and  now  God  looks  upon  us  with  a 
 favorable  aspect.  As  Joab  pleaded  for 
 Absalom,  and  brought  him  to  king  David, 
 and  David  kissed  him,  so  doth  Jesus  Christ 
 ingratiate  us  into  tne  love  and  favour  of 
 God.  Tlierefore  He  may  well  be  called  a 
 Peacemaker,  having  taken  our  flesh  upon 
 Him,  and  so  made  peace  between  us  and 
 His  angry  Father.  T.  Watson. 
 
 When  Esculus  was  accused  for  some  im- 
 piety, his  brother  stood  up  for  him  and 
 showed  the  magistrates  how  he  had  lost 
 his  hand  in  the  service  of  the  state,  and  so 
 obtained  his  pardon;  thus,  when  Satan 
 accuseth  the  saints,  or  when  the  justice  of 
 God  lays  anything  to  their  charge,  Christ 
 shows  His  own  wounds,  and  by  virtue  of 
 His  bloody  sufierings  He  answers  all  the 
 demands  and  challenges  of  the  law,  and 
 counterworks  Satan's  accusations.        Ibid. 
 
 As  a  tender-hearted  mother  would  plead 
 with  a  judge  for  a  child  ready  to  be  cnn- 
 demued ;  ob  how  would  her  bowels  work  ! 
 
 how  would  her  tears  trickle  down ;  what 
 weeping  rhetoric  would  she  use  to  the 
 judge  for  mercy  !  Thus  the  Lord  Jesus  is 
 full  of  sympathy  and  tenderness  (Heb.  ii, 
 17),  that  He  might  be  a  merciful  High 
 Priest ;  though  He  hath  left  His  Passion, 
 yet  not  His  compassion.  An  ordinary  law- 
 yer is  not  aftected  with  the  cause  he  pleads, 
 nor  doth  he  care  which  way  he  goes ;  it  is 
 profit  makes  him  plead,  not  affection.  But 
 Christ  intercedes  feelingly;  and  that  which 
 makes  Him  intercede  with  affection  is,  it 
 is  His  own  cause  which  He  pleads  in  the 
 cause  of  His  people.  Ibid. 
 
 "Wlien  Aaron  entered  the  Most  Holy 
 Place  he  was  bound  to  carry  the  names  of 
 the  tribes  of  Israel  upon  his  shoulders  and 
 upon  his  breast :  on  his  shoulders,  in  token 
 that  he  bore  the  burden  of  their  wicked- 
 ness and  their  infirmities  ;  upon  his  breast, 
 in  token  of  his  love  and  care  for  them  as 
 next  his  heart.  Such  an  High  Priest  is 
 our  Advocate.  "  We  have  not  an  High 
 Priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  the 
 feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all 
 points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without 
 sin."  He  died  to  make  satisfaction.  He 
 lives  to  make  intercession.  We  are  on  His 
 shoulders  to  have  our  burdens  borne  for 
 us.     We  are  near  His  heart,  that  He  may 
 
 both  die  and  live  for  us It  is  a 
 
 glorious  thought :  we  have  in  heaven  One 
 we  can  think  of,  know,  believe,  love,  de- 
 light in,  bone  of  our  bone,  flesh  of  our 
 flesh — One  whom  no  accident  can  disable, 
 no  quarrel  can  estrange,  no  death  remove, 
 for  He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for 
 us.  E.  £.  MchoL 
 
 CHRIST— a  King. 
 
 Jesus,  as  the  King  and  Lord  proclaimed 
 and  enthroned,  appears,  on  all  suitable 
 occasions  of  the  narrative  before  us  (the 
 Acts  of  the  Apostles),  as  the  Ruler  and 
 Judge  in  the  ultimate  and  supreme  resort. 
 He  it  is,  for  instance,  who  again  appoints 
 the  twelve  witnesses,  who,  after  He  Him- 
 self had  received  the  Spirit,  sends  ]>'»« 
 down  from  on  high  on  His  Chui-ci»  'k  ho 
 adds  to  His  Church  in  Jerusalo  '.  He, 
 too,  during  the  first  days  of  the  Church, 
 is  ever  near  His  people  Israel  to  bless  them 
 in  turning  them  away  from  their  iniquities; 
 He  it  is  who  works  miracles,  both  of  heal- 
 ing and  destruction,  in  testimony  to  His 
 apostles'  preaching;  to  His  dyiuj,;  «l.«rtyr 
 Stephen  He  reveals  Himself  standing  at 
 the  right  hand  of  God;  His  angel  sjjcaks 
 uu to  Philip;  it  is  His  Spirit  that  caught 
 him  away  ;  He  appears  to  Saul  of  Tarsus; 
 His  hand  established  the  firstChnrch  among 
 the  Gentiles ;  His  angel  delivers  St.  Peter ; 
 His  angel  strikes  the  hostile  Herod;  H^^, 
 again,  it  is  who  speaks  to  St.  Paul  u^  the 
 9 
 
130 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Temple  and  commits  to  him  the  conversion 
 of  the  Gentiles ;  to  Him  are  the  infant 
 Churches  commended;  His  Spirit  prevents 
 the  apostolic  missionaries  from  preaching 
 in  BithjTiia;  He  calls  them  by  the  voice 
 of  the  man  of  Macedonia  into  Europe  ;  He 
 opens  the  heart  of  Lydia,  and  effects  the 
 first  conversion  in  Europe ;  He  comforts 
 and  encourages  Paul  at  Corinth ;  He 
 strengthens  hira  in  prison,  and  informs 
 him  of  his  journey  to  Rome.  These  inter- 
 ventions of  Jesus,  so  numerous,  express, 
 and  decisive,  are  a  sufficient  warrant  for 
 our  regarding  His  ascension  as  essentially 
 His  really  sitting  on  His  throne. 
 
 Baumgarten. 
 
 1.  A.  king  is  usually  very  highly  de- 
 scended ;  comes  to  his  dignity  by  inherit- 
 ance. Christ  is  King  by  reason  of  His 
 descent  from  the  Eternal  Emperor  of  the 
 universe  (Col.  i,  15;  Heb.  i,  6). 
 
 2.  A  king  hath  or  ought  to  have  great 
 qualifications.  Christ  was  endowed  with 
 "  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom,"  &c.,  &c. 
 
 3.  Kings  are  sometimes  chosen,  as  Solo- 
 mon by  David,  and  Alexander  by  Philip. 
 Jesus  Christ  was  chosen  King  by  God  the 
 Father  (Ps.  Ixxxix,  19). 
 
 4.  Kings  are  anointed  as  well  as  chosen. 
 Christ  was  anointed  with  the  "  oil  of  glad- 
 ness above  His  fellows"  (Ps.  xlv,  7;  Isa.  Ixi, 
 1,3). 
 
 5.  Kings  are  proclaimed  at  their  instal- 
 ment (1  Sam.  X,  24).  Christ  was  pro- 
 claimed by  the  angels,  the  wise  men,  and 
 the  shepherds  (Luke  ii,  11). 
 
 6.  Kings  have  great  attendants.  Christ 
 had  angels. 
 
 7.  Kings  have  subjects  who  subscribe  to 
 their  power.  Christ  has  many  who  believe 
 in  Him,  &c. 
 
 8.  Kings  govern  by  laws.  Christ  governs 
 by  laws. 
 
 9.  Kings,  though  they  may  rule  in  love, 
 often  have  rebels.  Christ  rules  in  love,  but 
 has  many  rebels. 
 
 10.  Some  kings  have  great  dominions. 
 Christ's  dominions  include  the  universe. 
 
 11.  Kings  have  a  crown  to  wear  and  a 
 sceptre  to  wield.  Christ  has  on  His  head 
 many  crowns,  and  His  sceptre  is  a  sceptre 
 of  righteousness. 
 
 12.  Kings  send  ambassadors  to  treat 
 with  other  states  who  may  or  may  not  be 
 at  war  with  them.  Christ  sent  His  apostles 
 and  sends  all  true  ministers  to  treat  with 
 sinners  and  saints  (2  Cor.  v,  20). 
 
 13.  Kings  afford  protection  to  good 
 subjects.     Christ  protects  His  people. 
 
 JS.  Keach. 
 
 CHRIST— Knowledge  of. 
 
 Give  every  kind  of  knowledge  its  due 
 attention  and  respect ;  but  what  science  is 
 to  becompared  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
 
 crucified  ?  Had  a  traveller  lost  his  way  in 
 some  desert  where  he  had  wandered  till  he 
 was  fainting  with  hunger  and  thirst,  for 
 what  would  he  first  ask  ?  for  music,  for 
 paintings  ?  No,  he  would  ask  for  bread,  for 
 water  !  Anything  else  offered  him  would 
 be  a  mockery  of  his  misery.  R.  Cecil. 
 
 The  knowledge  of  God,  without  the 
 knowledge  of  our  own  misery,is  the  nurse  of 
 pride.  The  knowledge  of  our  own  misery, 
 without  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  is 
 the  mother  of  despair.  But  the  true  know- 
 ledge of  Jesus  Christ  exempts  us  alike  from 
 pride  and  from  despair;  by  giving  us,  at 
 once,  a  sight,  not  only  of  God  and  of  our 
 misery,  but  also  of  the  mercy  of  God  in  the 
 relief  of  our  misery.  We  may  know  God 
 without  knowing  our  own  miseries  ;  or  we 
 may  know  our  own  miseries  without  know- 
 ing God ;  or  we  may  know  both,  without 
 knowing  the  means  of  obtaining  from  God 
 the  relief  of  our  miseries.  But  we  cannot 
 know  Jesus  Christ  without  the  knowledge 
 of  God,  of  our  miseries,  and  of  their  cure;  in- 
 asmuch as  Jesus  Christ  is  not  only  God,  but 
 He  is  God  under  this  character — the  Healer 
 and  Repairer  of  our  miseries.  Fascal. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Lamb. 
 
 1.  The  lamb  is  a  very  innocent  and 
 harmless  creature.  Jesus  Christ  is  of  a 
 sweet,  quiet,  harmless  nature  (Heb.  vii,  26). 
 
 2.  The  lamb  is  made  a  prey  of  and  often 
 worried  by  dogs,  wolves,  and  other  beasts. 
 The  Lord  Jesus  was  preyed  upon  by  devils 
 and  wicked  men. 
 
 3.  The  lamb  is  a  meek  and  patient  crea- 
 ture, bearing  wrongs  without  resistance  or 
 revenge.  Christ  was  meek,  and  patient, 
 and  loving  in  spirit  and  conduct,  never 
 revenging  Himself  upon  His  enemies. 
 
 4.  The  lamb  is  silent  when  brought  to 
 slaughter,  doth  not  cry  or  complain  nor 
 strive,  as  other  creatures  do.  Thus  did 
 Jesus  meet  His  death  (Isa.  liii,  7). 
 
 5.  The  lamb  is  a  contented  creature  ■ 
 let  the  shepherd  put  it  into  what  pasture 
 he  please,  it  grumbles  not,  but  seems  very 
 well  satisfied.  Christ  was  abundantly  re- 
 signed to  the  Father's  will  (Heb.  x,  7 ; 
 John  X,  15,  17,  18;  Phil,  ii,  7,  8). 
 
 6.  The  lamb  was  appointed  under  the 
 law  for  sacrifice,  to  make  an  atonement, 
 and  the  blood  to  be  sprinkled,  &c.  Christ 
 was  appointed  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin  to 
 make  an  atonement,  &c.,  &c.       B.  Keach. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Leader. 
 
 Lead,  Saviour,  lead,  amid  the  encircling 
 gloom. 
 
 Lead  Thou  me  on. 
 The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 
 
 Lead  Thou  me  on. 
 Keep  Thou  my  feet ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
 The  distant  scene, — one  step  enough  for  me. 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 131 
 
 I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  pray'd  that  Thou 
 
 Should'st  lead  me  on ; 
 I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path,  but  now 
 
 Lead  Thou  me  on. 
 I  loved  the  glare  of  day,  and,  spite  of  fears. 
 Pride  ruled  my  will ; — remember  not  past 
 
 years. 
 So  long  Thy  power  hath  bless'd  me, — sure 
 it  still 
 
 Will  lead  me  on. 
 O'er  vale   and   hill,    through  stream  and 
 torrent,  till 
 
 The  night  is  gone ; 
 And  with  the  morn,  those  angel-faces  smile 
 Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost 
 awhile.  J.  R.  Newman. 
 
 CHRIST— our  Life. 
 
 As  Elisha  revived  the  Shunamraite's 
 child,  "  he  lay  upon  it,  put  his  mouth 
 upon  the  ciiild's  mouth,  and  his  eyes  upon 
 his  eyes,  and  his  hands  upon  his  hands,  and 
 stretched  himstlf  upon  the  child,  and  the 
 flesh  of  the  child  waxed  warm;"  so  the 
 Lord  Jesus,  to  recover  us  that  were  dead 
 in  our  sins  and  trespasses,  spreads  and 
 applies  His  whole  passion  to  us ;  lays  His 
 mouth  of  blessing  upon  our  mouth  of 
 blasphemy ;  His  eyes  of  holiness  upon  our 
 eyes  of  lust ;  His  hands  of  mercy  upon  our 
 hands  of  cruelty  ;  and  stretcheth  His  gra- 
 cious self  upon  our  wretched  selves,  till  we 
 begin  to  wax  warm,  to  get  life,  and  the 
 (Holy)  Spirit  returns  into  us.      T.  Adams. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Life. 
 
 That  there  is  an  inseparable  connection 
 between  "  Christ "  and  "  Life  "  no  student 
 of  the  New  Testament  can  overlook.  "  The 
 life  was  manifested,"  says  St.  John,  in  his 
 first  epistle,  "  and  we  have  seen  it."  The 
 life  thus  "manifested"  was,  doubtless, 
 Christ  Himself,  conformably  to  the  same 
 Evangelist's  record  of  his  Divine  Master's 
 proclamation  that  He  was  "  the  Resurrec- 
 tion and  THE  Life,"  "  the  way,  the  truth, 
 and  the  life."  Clirist  is  "  the  life,"  plainly 
 because — by  what  process  I  do  not  now 
 inquire — the  cause  of  life,  as  He  is  said  to 
 be  our  "  peace  "  and  our  "  sanctification," 
 because  He  is  the  source  of  these  blessings ; 
 or,  as  dying  Simeon  in  his  parting  hymn 
 designates  Him,  the  "  Salvation,"  of  which 
 He  was  the  author  and  securer.  The  pur- 
 port of  the  expression  (as  attributing  to 
 Christ  the  production  of  life)  is  more  di- 
 rectly given  in  that  title  which  St.  Peter 
 employed  in  the  third  of  Acts — "  Ye  killed 
 the  Prince  [author,  leader]  of  life," — a 
 form  of  phrase  evidently  intended  to 
 heighten  the  atrocity  of  the  act  by  the 
 force  of  the  contrast.  Archer  Butler. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Light. 
 
 He  is  the  Sun  of  Eighteousness  (Mai.  iv, 
 2) ;  the  Morning  Star  (Rev.  ii,  28) ;  the 
 
 Bright  and  Morning  Star  (Rev.  xxii,  16) ; 
 the  Day  Star  (2  Pet.  i,  19)  ;  the  Day-spring 
 from  on  High  (Luke  i,  78) ;  a  Light  to 
 lighten  the  Gentiles  (Luke  ii,  32)  ;  a  Light 
 of  the  Gentiles  (Is.  xlii,  6);  the  Light  of 
 Men  (John  i,  4) ;  a  Liglit  come  into  the 
 World  (John  xii,  46);  the  Light  of  the 
 World  (John  viii,  12) ;  He  is  a  Great 
 Light  (Is.  ix,  2);  and  the  True  Liglit 
 (John  i,  9).  John  Bate. 
 
 Christ  declared  without  qualification,  "  I 
 am  the  Light  of  the  world."  What  thun- 
 derous strokes  should  beat  down  the  auda- 
 cious man  who  should  dare  to  say  this !  If 
 Christ  had  not  been  the  absolute  One,  He 
 would  have  said,  "  I  am  the  moon,  shining 
 by  night,  but  my  spoused  one,  the  sun, 
 from  whom  I  receive  my  beams,  shines  l^y 
 day."  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHRIST— Love  of. 
 
 The  mother,  wan  and  pale  with  incessant 
 vigils- by  the  bedside  of  a  sick  child;  the 
 fireman,  maimed  for  life  in  bravely  rescuing 
 the  inmates  of  a  blazing  house;  the  300 
 Spartans  at  Tkermopylffi ;  Howard,  dying 
 of  fever  caught  in  dungeons  where  he  was 
 fulfilling  liis  noble  purpose  of  succouring 
 the  oppressed  and  remembering  the  for- 
 gotten ;  the  Moravian  missionaries,  who 
 voluntarily  incarcerated  themselves  in  an 
 African  leper-house  (from  which  regre.^s 
 into  the  healthy  world  was  impossible,  and 
 escape  only  to  be  eflected  through  the 
 gates  of  death),  in  order  that  they  might 
 preach  the  glad  tidings  to  the  lepers — all 
 these,  and  many  other  glorious  instances 
 of  self-devotion,  do  but  faintly  shadow 
 forth  the  love  of  Him  who  laid  aside  Divine 
 glory,  and  humbled  Himself  to  the  death 
 of  the  cross.  Anon. 
 
 CHRIST— Miracles  of. 
 
 The  chief  object  of  our  Lord's  miracles 
 was  to  prove  His  mission;  and  it  may  be 
 observed  that  in  this  case,  and  in  that  of 
 Moses  (of  all  who  ever  pretended  to  found 
 a  religion  on  them),  the  miracles  supported 
 the  credit  of  the  religion,  not  the  religion 
 the  credit  of  the  miracles.  As  testimony, 
 however,  they  do  not  properly  form  part 
 of  His  ministry  (as  a  teacher),  but  they 
 have  likewise  a  moral  and  religious  mean- 
 ing, and  in  this  point  of  view  they  do  so. 
 
 They  have  a  moral  meaning,  because 
 they  are  all  benevolent,  whereas  as  proofs 
 they  might  have  been  destructive  or  in- 
 different, as  were  the  miracles  of  Moses  and 
 the  prophets.  As  it  is,  they  not  only  prove 
 that  Christ  came  from  God,  but  declare 
 that  He  came  with  a  benevolent  purpose. 
 
 They  have  also  a  religious  meaning,  be- 
 cause they  typified  some  of  the  chief  doc- 
 trines of  His  Gospel.     Thus,  when  He  con- 
 
132 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 vortecl  into  wine  the  water  set  for  purifica- 
 tion. He  taught  that  sin  was  cleansed  by 
 ]-I  is  blood,  and  not  by  the  ritual  observances 
 Oi'  the  l«w.  His  Divine  nature  was  asserted 
 by  walking  on  the  sea,  and  by  whatever 
 oilier  miracles  invested  Him  with  the 
 sci-iptural  characteristics  of  Jehovah. 
 Vv'hen  He  healed  the  sick,  gave  sight  to 
 t]'.e  blind,  and  enabled  the  lame  to  walk. 
 He  not  only  proved  His  aut'aorlty,  and 
 exercised  His  compassion,  but  suggested 
 tlie  inference  that  He  had  come  to  restore 
 onr  corrupted  nature  to  its  original  purity, 
 to  enligh'.  en  the  ignorant,  as  all  men  were, 
 and  to  enable  us  to  stand  in  the  path  of 
 life,  when  without  Him  we  could  not  but 
 fail  and  sink.  Bp.  Rinds. 
 
 CSSIST — Names  of. 
 
 He  is  Jehovah ;  the  Lord  Jehovah ; 
 Jehovah  of  hosts ;  the  strong  and  mighty 
 Jehovah;  Jehovah-tsidkenu  (the  Lord  our 
 righteousness) ;  God ;  the  miglity  God ; 
 the  everlasting  God;  the  true  God;  God 
 blessed  for  ever;  God  my  Saviour;  my 
 Lord  and  my  God ;  God  manifest  in  the 
 fie-ih ;  Emmanuel,  God  with  us ;  the  Great 
 God  and  Saviour ;  the  Highest ;  the  Son 
 of  God  ;  His  dear  Son ;  His  only  begotten 
 Son;  the  Son  of  the  Blessed;  the  Al- 
 mighty;  Creator  of  all  things ;  Upholder 
 of  all  things;  Alpha  and  Omega;  the 
 Beginning  and  the  End;  the  First  and 
 the  Last;  the  Life;  Eternal  Life;  the 
 \\'ord;  the  Word  of  God;  the  Word 
 made  flesh;  Lnage  of  the  invisible  God; 
 Brightness  of  the  Father's  glory  and  the 
 Express  Image  of  His  person;  Wisdom  of 
 God;  Power  of  God;  Messenger  of  the 
 Covenant;  Angel  of  Jehovah;  Angel  of 
 God;  Angel  of  His  presence;  Root  of 
 Jesse ;  Root  of  David ;  Root  and  Offspring 
 of  David;  Branch  of  Righteousness;  a 
 Righteous  Branch ;  the  Vine ;  the  true 
 Vine ;  the  Tree  of  Life ;  the  Bread  of  God ; 
 the  Bread  from  Heaven;  the  Bread  of 
 Life;  living  Bread;  hidden  Manna;  Plant 
 of  Renown ;  Cluster  of  Camphire ;  Lily  of 
 the  Valleys;  Bundle  of  Myrrh;  Rose  of 
 Sharon;  Lamb  of  God;  Lamb  without 
 blemish;  Lamb  that  was  slain;  Bride- 
 groom ;  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  throne ; 
 Good  Shepherd;  Jehovali's  Shepherd; 
 Great  Shepherd;  the  Rock;  my  strong 
 Rock  ;  the  Rock  of  Ages :  Rock  of  habita- 
 tion ;  Rock  of  salvation ;  my  Rock  and 
 Redeemer;  my  Rock  and  Fortress;  that 
 spiritual  Rock;  the  Rock  tliat  followed 
 them;  the  Surety;  the  Daysman;  the 
 High  Priest ;  the  Great  High  Priest ;  the 
 Mercy  Seat;  the  Mediator;  the  Forerunner; 
 the  Propitiation ;  a  Ransom ;  Minister  of 
 the  Circumcision ;  the  Altar ;  the  Sacrifice ; 
 the  Offering;  the  Offerer;  chief  Corner 
 Stone ;  a  tried  Stone ;  an  elect  Stone ;  a 
 precious  Stone ;  the  Builder .'  the  Founda- 
 
 tion ;  a  Stone  of  stumbling ;  a  Rock  of 
 offence ;  Jesus ;  a  Saviour ;  Saviour  of  the 
 world;  Jesus  Christ;  the  Lord  Jesns 
 Christ ;  Jesus  Christ  the  Righteous ;  Jesus, 
 the  Christ ;  Jesus  of  Nazareth ;  Messiah 
 which  is  called  Christ;  Christ,  the  Lord; 
 Anointed ;  the  Christ  of  God ;  the  Christ, 
 the  Son  of  the  Blessed ;  Christ,  the  Saviour 
 of  the  world  ;  the  Light ;  the  true  Light; 
 a  great  Light ;  Light  of  the  Gentiles ;  the 
 Light  of  men  ;  the  Light  of  the  world ;  a 
 Star;  the  bright  and  Morning  Star;  the 
 Sun  of  Righteousness ;  the  Day  Spring  from 
 on  high ;  the  Ju.st ;  the  Just  One ;  the  Holy 
 One  of  God ;  the  Holy  One  and  the  Just ; 
 the  Captain  of  the  Host  of  the  Lord ; 
 Captain  of  Salvation ;  a  Commander ;  a 
 Ruler  ;  Governor ;  Deliverer ;  Lion  of  the 
 tribe  of  Judah ;  Ensign  of  the  people ; 
 Author  and  Finisher  of  Faith  ;  Lord  of  the 
 Sabbath;  Lord  of  lords;  King  of  kings; 
 Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living ;  Lord  of 
 peace ;  Lord  over  all ;  Lord  of  all ;  Lord 
 and  Christ ;  a  Prince  and  Saviour ;  Prince 
 of  Peace ;  Prince  of  Life ;  Prince  of  the 
 kings  of  the  earth;  Messiah  the  Prince; 
 King  of  the  .Tews  ;  King  of  Saints;  King 
 of  glory;  King  of  Peace;  King  of  Israel; 
 the  King  in  His  beauty;  King  of  the 
 Daughter  of  Zion ;  the  Judge;  the  Right- 
 eous Judge ;  Truth ;  Way  ;  Life ;  Wisdom ; 
 V/itness;  Wonderful;  Counsellor;  Mighty 
 God  ;  Everlasting  Father  ;  Word ;  Word 
 of  Life ;  Word  of  God ;  Horn  of  Salvation ; 
 Consolation  of  Israel;  Judge  of  Israel; 
 Head  of  the  Church;  Heir  of  all  things; 
 Holy  Child ;  Redeemer ;  Resurrection  and 
 Life,  &c.,  &c.  John  Hate. 
 
 When  Ptolemy  built  Pharos  he  would 
 have  his  name  upon  it,  but  Sostratus  the 
 architect  did  not  think  that  the  king,  who 
 only  paid  the  money,  should  get  all  the 
 credit  while  he  had  none ;  so  he  put  the 
 king's  name  on  the  front  in  plaster,  but 
 underneath,  in  the  eternal  granite,  he  cut 
 deeply  enough  "  Sostratus."  The  sea 
 dashed  against  the  plaster  and  chipped  off 
 bit  by  bit.  I  dare  say  it  lasted  out  the 
 time  of  Ptolemy,  but  by  and  by  the  plaster 
 was  all  chipped  off,  and  there  stood  the 
 name  "  Sostratus."  I  am  not  sure  that 
 there  are  not  waves  that  will  chip  off  all 
 human  names  from  the  Church  of  Christ, 
 but  I  am  quite  sure  that  the  one  name  of 
 Christ  shall  last,  S.  Coley. 
 
 CHKIST— Neglect  of. 
 
 Men  who  neglect  Christ,  and  try  to  wir 
 heaven  through  moralities,  are  like  sailors 
 at  sea  in  a  storm,  who  pull,  some  at  the 
 bowsprit  and  some  at  the  mainmast,  but 
 never  touch  the  helm.         S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHEIST— None  but. 
 
 When  Alexander  offered  to  do  Diogenes 
 
CESIST. 
 
 any  favour  he  iTiight  ask,  the  philosopher, 
 contemplating  iu  the  sun  a  far  nobler 
 object  than  the  conqueror  of  the  world, 
 and  setting  a  higher  value  on  his  beams 
 than  on  the  brightest  rays  of  royalty,  only 
 begged  the  monarch  to  step  aside,  nor 
 stand  between  him  and  the  sun.  However 
 rude  such  an  answer  on  the  part  of  the 
 cynic,  it  were  a  right  noble  s]3eech  from 
 you  to  any  and  every  object  that  would 
 steal  your  heart  fro.ii  Christ.  Let  Him 
 who  is  all  your  salvation  be  all  your  desire. 
 Is  He  not  "  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
 glory,  aud  the  express  image  of  His  person  ? 
 Fairer  than  the  children  of  men,  more 
 lovely  than  the  lovehest.  He  is  "  the  chief- 
 est  among  ten  thousand,"  He  is  "alto- 
 gether lovely."  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHRIST— OlSces  of. 
 
 Now  Christ  is  offered  and  held  forth  to 
 every  particular  person  that  expects  to  be 
 saved  by  Hiui  under  three  offices  : — 1,  His 
 prophetical  J  2,  His  kingly;  and  3,  His 
 sacerdotal.  In  which  account  I  give  you 
 not  only  the  number  of  His  offices,  but  also 
 their  order,  as  they  stand  related  to  us. 
 And  this  order  and  economy  of  them  is 
 founded  upon  the  very  nature  of  the  thing, 
 and  the  natural  order  of  religious  actions. 
 For  iu  the  procedure  of  nature  there  must 
 be — 1,  the  knowledge  of  a  duty ;  2,  the 
 performance  of  it ;  3,  the  reward.  Corre- 
 spondent to  these  is  the  economy  of  Christ's 
 othces ;  for,  1.  By  Christ's  prophetic  office, 
 revealing  His  mind  to  us,  we  come  to  know 
 His  will.  2.  Then  by  His  kingly  office, 
 ruling  aud  govei-ning  us,  we  come  to  yield 
 obedience  to  that  will.  3.  And  thirdly,  by 
 His  sacerdotal  or  priestly  office,  we  come 
 to  receive  the  fruit  of  that  obedience  in 
 our  justification  and  salvation.  For  we 
 must  not  think  that  our  obedience  is  re- 
 warded with  eternal  life  for  its  own  merit, 
 but  it  is  the  merit  of  Clirist's  sacrifice  that 
 procures  this  reward  to  our  obedience. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 CEPvIST— Omnipresence  of. 
 
 If  Christ  is  with  His  disciples  alway, 
 even  unto  the  end  of  the  world ;  if  He 
 dwell  in  their  heart  by  faith  and  is  iu  them, 
 the  hope  of  glory,  as  they  live  scattered 
 abroad  upon  the  earth ;  if  He  is  wherever 
 two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  His 
 name ;  if  He  upholds  all  things,  fills  all 
 things;  if  He  is  in  heaven  and  earth  at 
 one  and  the  same  time; — then  let  it  be 
 asked.  How  can  His  presence  be  limited  as 
 that  of  a  man,  or  a  beast,  or  a  stone  ? 
 And  if  His  presence  is  not  limited  as 
 man's,  "  but  fills  all  things,"  then  in  that 
 regard  He  must  be  neither  man,  angel, 
 nor  archangel,  but  as  much  God  as  it  is 
 possible  for  there  to  be  a  God  in  that  sense. 
 John  Bate, 
 
 CUEIST— the  Power  of  God. 
 
 Christ  is  called  the  power  of  God  as  well 
 as  the  wisdom  of  God  (1  Cor.  i,  2i).  In'og 
 ouly  in  the  fruits  of  the  Gospel  upon  the 
 hearts  of  men,  but  in  His  office,  wherein 
 was  manifested  the  power  of  God  in  re- 
 deeming the  world.  It  was  in  Him  God 
 tore  up  the  foundations  of  the  devil's  em- 
 pire, disarmed  all  the  curses  of  thp  law, 
 overthrew  the  false  conceits  of  the  wor';'!, 
 knocked  otf  the  fetters  of  theii  captivity., 
 demolished  the  power  of  death,  snatched 
 souls  from  the  flames  of  hell,  unbarred  the 
 gates  of  heaven,  prep;u-ed  everlasting  man- 
 sions, laid  His  beams  in  the  waters ;  the 
 foundations  of  a  happy  eternity  in  the 
 misery,  afllictions,  death,  blood  of  His  only 
 Son.  He  restored  man  to  glory  by  weak- 
 ness ;  to  wisdom  by  foolishness :  He  made 
 the  law  lose  its  sting  in  the  sides  of  Hi  in 
 whom  it  struck ;  took  away  our  captivity 
 by  misery;  flung  death  to  the  ground  by 
 death;  quenched  hell  by  its  own  flames; 
 opened  heaven  by  a  cross  :  cemented  au 
 everlasting  habitation  by  blood;  and  con- 
 demned sin  by  a  sacrifice  for  it.  By  a  cru- 
 cified man,  and  a  weak  flesh  encompassed 
 with  infirmity,  the  God  of  heaven  subdues 
 the  god  of  the  world,  destroys  the  empire 
 of  the  proud  spirits,  and  suiidues  princi- 
 palities and  powers  under  His  ft'et.  It  is 
 seen  in  raising  Christ  from  the  dead,  after 
 He  had  sustained  the  weight  of  the  sin  of 
 the  world  upon  Him  ;  and  bringing  Him 
 forth  with  success  and  glory,  after  that 
 great  encounter  with  the  powers  of  hell. 
 In  poweriully  raising  a  Church  to  Him 
 from  the  seed  of  His  blood,  in  spite  of  all 
 spiritual  aud  secular  enemies ;  defending  it 
 and  supporting  it  under  the  most  terrible 
 waves  of  the  world,  that  He  might  be  ac- 
 knowledged, adored,  and  praised  in  this 
 woi'ld,  and  that  which  is  to  come. 
 
 8.  CharnoeJc. 
 
 CHRIST— Pre-eminence  of. 
 
 This  view  of  Christ  must  only  be  taken 
 iu  relation  to  created  things.  In  relation 
 to  God  He  is  not  pre-eminent  or  subordi- 
 nate, but  equaL  Viewed,  then,  in  relation 
 to  creatures  He  is  "  the  Beginning  of  the 
 creation  of  God;  God's  First-born;  the 
 First-born  from  the  dead ;  the  First-be- 
 gotten from  the  dead;  the  First-born  among 
 many  brethren  ;  the  First-fruits  of  theui 
 that  slept ;  the  last  Adam  ;  the  Resurrec-. 
 tion;  a  quickening  Spirit;  the  Head  of 
 the  Body  the  Church ;  the  Head  over 
 all  things  to  the  Church;  the  Head  of 
 every  man;  the  Head  of  all  Principality 
 and  Power;  the  Great  Teacher;  the  first 
 Example ;  the  Friend  of  all  men ;  and  the 
 Saviour  of  the  world.  John  Bate. 
 
 This  blessed  Christ  is  the  sole  paragon  of 
 our  joy,  the  Fountain  of  life,  the  Foundation 
 
134 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 of  all  blessedness.  The  sum  of  the  whole 
 Bible,  prophesied,  typified,  prefigured,  ex- 
 hibited, demonstrated  ;  to  be  found  in  every 
 leaf,  almost  in  every  line ;  the  Scriptures 
 being  but  as  it  were  the  swaddling  bands 
 of  the  child  Jesus.  Abraham,  Moses, 
 Joshua,  Samson,  David,  were  all  renowned, 
 yet  are  but  meant  on  the  by  ;  Chi-ist  is  the 
 main,  the  centre  whither  all  these  lines  are 
 referred.  They  were  all  His  forerunners 
 to  prepare  His  way ;  it  is  fit  that  many 
 harbingers  and  heralds  should  go  before 
 so  great  a  Prince  ;  only  John  Baptist  was 
 that  Phosphortcs,  or  morning  star,  to  sig- 
 nify the  sun's  approaching.  The  world  was 
 never  worthy  of  Him,  especially  laot  so 
 early ,-  He  was  too  rich  a  jewel  to  be  ex- 
 posed at  the  first  opening  of  the  shop; 
 therefore  He  was  wrapped  up  in  those 
 obscure  shadows,  the  tree  of  life,  Noah's 
 ark,  Jacob's  ladder  ;  therefore  called  "  the 
 Expectation  of  nations,"  longed  and  looked 
 for  more  than  health  to  the  sick,  or  life  to 
 the  dying.  The  golden  legend  of  those 
 famous  worthies  (Heb.  xi)  were  but  so 
 many  pictures  which  God  sent  before  to 
 the  Church;  counterfeits,  abridgments,  and 
 dark  resemblances  of  the  Prince  of  glory, 
 whom  His  Father  promised  to  marry  unto 
 mankind ;  and  "  when  the  fulness  of  time 
 was  come"  (Gal.  iv,  4),  He  performed  it. 
 Lo  1  now  all  those  stars  drew  in  their  bor- 
 rowed light  when  the  Sun  arose.  To  whom, 
 instead  of  all  the  rest,  Moses  and  Elias  did 
 homage  on  Mount  Tabor,  as  to  the  accom- 
 plisher  of  the  law  and  prophets.    T.  Adams. 
 
 CHEIST— a  Physician. 
 
 As  a  Physician,  Christ  differs  from  all 
 others — 1.  In  that  He  never  studied  for 
 the  profession.  2.  In  that  He  never  walked 
 the  hospital  to  acquire  practice.  3.  In  that 
 He  never  experimented  upon  individuals. 
 4.  In  that  He  never  failed  to  effect  a  cure 
 upon  a  patient.  5.  In  that  He  cured  Dody 
 and  soul.  6.  In  that  he  never  delivered 
 any  bill  of  charges.  7.  In  that  He  accom- 
 plished such  cui-es  as  none  before  or  since 
 Him  accomplished.  John  Bate. 
 
 The  prophet  tells  us.  He  shall  arise  with 
 healing  in  His  wings,  or  in  His  rays  or 
 beams,  which  are  as  the  wings  of  the  sun. 
 Christ  came  as  the  sun,  to  bring  not  only 
 light  to  a  dark  world,  but  health  to  a 
 diseased,  distempered  world.  The  Jews, 
 saith  Dr.  Pocock,  have  a  proverbial  saying, 
 — "  As  the  sun  riseth  infirmities  decrease  : 
 the  flowers  which  drooped  and  languished 
 all  night  revive  in  the  morning."  Christ 
 '•ame  into  the  world  to  be  a  great  Physician, 
 vea,  and  the  great  medicine  too,  both  the 
 balm  in  Gilead  and  the  Physician  there. 
 When  He  was  upon  earth  He  went  about 
 ;is  the  sun  in  His  circuit,  doing  this  good : 
 'He  healed  all  manner  of  sickness    and 
 
 diseases  among  the  people  ;"  He  healed  by 
 wholesale,  as  the  sun  doth.  M.  Henry. 
 
 CHRIST— a  PUot. 
 
 The  voyage  of  human  life  under  any 
 other  head  than  Christ,  and  under  any 
 other  wind  than  the  wind  of  His  Spirit,  is 
 sorrowful  beyond  all  expression.  Whatever 
 port  is  reached,  the  port  of  peace,  the  joy- 
 ful eternal  home,  cannot  be  reacfied.  The 
 vessel  in  which  we  are  passing  over  the 
 sea  of  mortal  life  is  always  driven  by  con- 
 trary winds  till  the  Lord  embarks.  All 
 voyagers  who  know  the  pleasantness  of 
 having  Christ  on  board,  and  the  certainty 
 of  getting  safe  to  land  under  Him,  pray 
 Him  with  aU  their  hearts  to  abide  with 
 them.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 CHRIST— Preaching  of. 
 
 Our  Lord  found  many  a  topic  of  discourse 
 in  the  scenes  around  Him.  Even  the  hum- 
 blest objects  shine  in  His  hands  as  I  have 
 seen  a  fragment  of  broken  glass  or  earthen- 
 ware, as  it  caught  the  sunbeam,  light  up, 
 flashing  like  a  diamond.  With  the  stone 
 of  Jacob's  well  for  a  pulpit,  and  its  water 
 for  a  text,  he  preached  salvation  to  the 
 Samaritan  woman.  A  little  child,  which 
 He  takes  from  its  mother's  side,  and  holds 
 upblushing  in  His  arms  beforetheastonished 
 audience,  is  the  text  for  a  sermon  on 
 humility.  A  husbandman  on  a  neighbour- 
 ing height,  between  Him  and  the  sky,  who 
 strides  with  long  and  measured  steps  over 
 the  field  he  sows,  supplies  a  text  from 
 which  He  discourses  on  the  Gospel  and  its 
 effects  on  diffei-ent  classes  of  hearers.  In  a 
 woman  baking ;  in  two  women  who  sit  by 
 some  cottage  door  grinding  at  the  mill ;  in 
 an  old,  strong  fortalice,  perched  on  a  rock, 
 whence  it  looks  across  the  brawling  torrent 
 to  the  ruined  and  roofless  gable  of  a  house 
 swept  away  by  mountain  floods — Jesus 
 found  texts.  From  the  birds  that  sung 
 above  His  head,  and  the  lilies  that  blos- 
 somed at  His  feet.  He  discoursed  on  the 
 care  of  God — these  His  text,  and  provi- 
 dence His  theme.  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Priest. 
 
 The  high-priest  was  a  lively  type  of 
 Christ.  Aaron  was  to  do  four  things — 1, 
 kill  the  beasts;  2,  to  enter  with  the  blood 
 into  the  holy  of  holies;  3,  to  sprinkle  the 
 mercy-seat  with  the  blood ;  4,  to  kindle 
 the  incense,  and  with  the  smoke  of  it  cause 
 a  cloud  to  arise  over  the  mercy-seat,  and 
 so  the  atonement  was  made  (Lev.  xvi,  11 — • 
 16).  Christ  our  High  Priest  did  exactly 
 answer  to  this  type :  He  was  offered  up  in 
 sacrifice,  that  answers  to  the  priest's  kill- 
 ing the  bullock ;  and  Christ  is  gone  up  into 
 heaven,  that  answers  to  the  priest's  going 
 into  the  holy  of  holies;  and  He  spreads  His 
 blood  before  the  Father,  that  answers  to 
 
CHEIST. 
 
 135 
 
 th?  priest's  sprinkling  the  blood  upon  the 
 mercy-seat ;  and  He  prays  to  His  Father, 
 that  for  His  blood's  sake  He  would  be  pro- 
 pitious to  sinners,  that  answers  to  the  cloud 
 of  incense  going  up ;  and  through  His  in- 
 tercessions God  is  pacified,  that  answers 
 to  the  priest's  making  atonement. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 CHRIST— a  Priest  and  King. 
 
 As  a  Priest,  He  relieves  us  from  the  curse 
 and  the  guilt  of  sin  :  as  a  King,  He  relieves 
 in-  from  the  power  and  the  dominion  of  sin. 
 V.\  His  sacrifice  as  a  Priest  He  restores  us 
 to  the  Divine  favour ;  by  His  sceptre  as  a 
 King  He  creates  within  us  the  Divine 
 image.  If  Jesus  were  not  our  Priest,  we 
 should  lie  under  the  curse  ;  if  Jesus  were 
 not  our  King,  we  should  lie  under  the 
 p  iwer  and  dominion  of  sin.  By  His  priestly 
 office  we  are  pardoned,  by  His  kingly  office 
 we  are  sanctified.  In  the  first  we  have  a 
 title  to  heaven,  in  the  last  we  have  a  fitness 
 for  heaven.  It  is  as  necessary  that  we 
 should  be  made  fit  for  the  enjoyments  of 
 the  blessed,  as  that  we  should  have  a  title 
 and  a  right  to  enter  on  the  privileges  of 
 the  blessed.  And  hence  we  believe  in 
 Christ,  not  only  as  our  great  High  Priest, 
 but  also  as  our  great  and  Almighty  King. 
 Dr.  Cumming. 
 CHEIST— a  Prophet. 
 
 There  are  several  names  given  to  Christ 
 as  a  Prophet.  He  is  called  "  the  Counsel- 
 lor ;"  "  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant "  (Mai. 
 iii,  1).  "A  Lamp"  (2  Sam.  xxii,  19). 
 "  The  Morning  Star "  (Rev.  xxii,  16). 
 Jesus  Christ  is  the  great  Prophet  of  the 
 Church ;  He  is  the  best  Teacher,  He  makes 
 all  other  teaching  eftectual :  Luke  xxiv, 
 45,  "Then  opened  He  their  understand- 
 ing." He  did  not  only  open  the  Scriptures, 
 but  opened  their  understanding.  He 
 teacheth  to  profit :  "  I  am  the  Lord  thy 
 God,  who  teacheth  thee  to  profit." 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 See  what  a  cormwopoeia  or  plenty  of 
 wisdom  is  in  Christ,  who  is  the  great 
 doctor  of  the  Church,  and  gives  saving 
 knowledge  to  all  His  people.  The  body  of 
 the  sun  must  needs  be  full  of  charity  and 
 brightness,  which  enlightens  the  whole 
 world  :  Christ  is  the  great  luminary ;  in 
 Him  are  hid  all  treasures  of  knowledge 
 (Col.  ii,  3).  The  middle  lamp  of  the  sanc- 
 tuary gave  light  to  all  the  other  lamps  : 
 Christ  difluseth  His  glorious  light  to  others. 
 "We  are  apt  to  admire  the  learning  of  Aris- 
 totle and  Plato ;  alas !  what  is  this  poor 
 spark  of  light  to  that  which  is  in  Christ, 
 from  whose  infinite  wisdom  both  men  and 
 angels  light  their  lamp.  Ibid. 
 
 CHEIST— a  Eansom. 
 
 Now,  a  ransom  is  a  price  given  to  redeem 
 
 such  as  are  in  any  way  in  captivity ;  any- 
 thing laid  down  by  way  of  compensation  to 
 take  off"  a  bond  or  obligation,  whereby  he, 
 which  before  was  bound,  becometh  free. 
 All  sinners  were  obliijed  to  undergo  such 
 punishments  as  are  proportionate  to  their 
 sins,  and  were  by  that  obligation  captivated 
 and  in  bonds;  and  Christ  did  give  His  life 
 a  ransom  for  them,  and  that  a  proper 
 ransom,  if  that  His  life  were  of  any  price, 
 and  given  as  such  ...  It  is  most  evident 
 that  the  life  of  Christ  was  laid  down  as  a 
 price ;  neither  is  it  more  certain  that  He 
 died  than  that  He  bought  us :  "  Ye  are 
 bought  with  a  price,"  saith  the  apostle 
 (1  Cor.  vi,  20;  vii,  23),  aud  it  is  "  the  Lord 
 who  bought  us  "  (2  Peter  ii,  1),  and  the 
 price  which  He  paid  was  His  blood;  for 
 "  we  are  not  redeemed  with  corruptible 
 things,  as  silver  and  gold;  but  with  the 
 precious  blood  of  Christ,"  so  it  was  a  price 
 given  by  way  of  compensation  ;  and  as  that 
 blood  was  precious,  so  was  it  a  full  and 
 perfect  satisfaction.  Bj).  Pearson. 
 
 CHEIST— a  Eefage. 
 
 The  ancient  City  of  Refuge  was  a  very 
 beautiful  type  of  Christ.  Let  me  enume- 
 rate six  points  of  resemblance  which  com- 
 mentators, acquainted  with  Jewish  writings, 
 have  taken  notice  of. 
 
 1.  Everything  was  done  to  render  the 
 city  easy  of  access.  It  was  not  to  be  built 
 in  a  valley,  concealed  among  trees,  but 
 set  on  a  hill,  that  it  might  be  seen  from 
 afar.  So  "  Christ  is  exalted  to  be  a  Prince 
 and  a  Saviour,"  and  "  exalted  to  show 
 mercy." 
 
 2.  The  roads  leading  to  it  were  to  be 
 very  wide  and  spacious.  Once  every  year 
 the  magistrates  sent  workmen  to  clear 
 them,  and  put  them  into  complete  repair. 
 So  the  way  to  Christ  is  plain,  and  it  is  the 
 work  of  ministers  to  keep  it  clear.  God 
 says  to  them,  "  Cast  up  the  highway,  take 
 up  the  stumbling-block,  gather  out  the 
 stones,  prepare  the  way  of  my  people." 
 
 3.  Stones  were  set  up  on  the  road  at 
 every  crossway,  for  fear  the  fugitive  should 
 go  astray.  The  word  Refuge  !  was 
 written  on  the  stone  in  large  letters ;  so 
 that  one  might  read  as  he  ran.  Thus  do 
 faithful  preachers  and  teachers  direct  sin- 
 ners  to  the  Saviour,  and  cry  Refuge  1  "  Flee 
 from  the  wrath  to  come  !" 
 
 4.  The  gates  were  never  shut,  day  nor 
 night,  so  that  at  any  hour  the  manslayer 
 could  enter.  Christ  says,  "Him  that 
 Cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 
 
 5.  The  people  of  the  city  were  to  receive 
 the  fugitive,  and  provide  him  with  food 
 and  lodging  and  everything  he  needed. 
 So  does  Christ  feed  and  clothe  those  who 
 flee  to  Him.  He  that  believeth  shall  never 
 hunger  nor  thirst.  There  is  no  want  to 
 them  that  fear  Him. 
 
136 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 6.  Tliis  pit}'  was  for  all  strangers  as  well 
 as  for  Jews.  So  Christ  is  ottered  alike  to 
 all  of  every  kindred  and  people,  and  nation 
 and  tongae. 
 
 'J'hus  was  the  City  of  Refuge  a  type  of 
 the  Saviour,  as  our  retreat  from  danger. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 As  the  angel  urged  Lot  and  his  family  to 
 make  haste  and  hide  themselves  in  Zoar, 
 against  the  conflagration  of  Sodom,  so  the 
 Gospel  presseth  us  to  run  to  Christ,  and 
 take  refuge  in  Him  against  the  impending 
 showerof  heaven's  wrath  which  shall  devour 
 the  adversaries.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— Eejectors  of. 
 
 Among  tliose  who  stay  away  from  Christ, 
 who  will  not  believe  in  Him.  who  will  not 
 come  to  Him,  the  motive  of  tlie  chief  part 
 has  ever  been,  that  they  are  destitute  of  the 
 consciousness  of  sin,  and  of  all  thoughts 
 and  wisiies  rising  above  the  objects  of  the 
 senses,  or  else  that  they  love  their  sins,  and 
 are  determined  to  cleave  to  them,  in  despite 
 of  all  that  God  can  do  to  draw  them  away. 
 Others  there  are  who  will  not  believe  in 
 Christ  through  pride  and  self-righteousness. 
 Others  have  involved  themselves  inextri- 
 cably in  the  labyrinthine  abstractions  of  a 
 sceptical  understanding.  Some  will  say,  in 
 their  high-swelling  imaginations,  that  they 
 need  no  Redeemer,  no  Ransom,  no  Recon- 
 ciler, no  Atonement,  no  Pardon — that  they 
 can  find  the  way  to  God  by  themselves— 
 that  they  can  build  up  a  tower  of  their  own 
 virtues,  a  grand  and  gorgeous  tower,  virtue 
 above  virtue,  the  top  of  which  shall  reach 
 to  heaven.  Such  men  there  have  been 
 niore  or  less  in  all  ages  ;  and  the  way  their 
 devices  have  been  baffled  has  ever  been  the 
 same,  by  the  confusion  of  tongues.  They 
 have  been  unable  to  understand  one  an- 
 other's language.  When  one  of  them  has 
 asked  for  bread,  his  neighbour  has  given 
 him  a  stone ;  when  asked  for  a  fish,  he  has 
 given  a  serpent;  indifference  and  scorn, 
 instead  of  sympathy  and  encouragement. 
 The  hand  of  each  has  been  against  his 
 brother.  There  has  been  no  unity  of  spirit 
 amongst  tliem,  but  variance  and  strife  and 
 railing  :  they  have  never  entered  into  the 
 bond  of  peace.  This  is  the  other  form  of 
 sin  by  which  men  are  kept  away  from 
 Christ.  The  great  mass  stay  away  because 
 their  hearts  are  paralysed  and  crumbled  by 
 carelessness  and  self-indulgence,  or  rotted 
 by  the  cankering  pleasures  of  sin  ;  the  few, 
 because  their  lie  arts  are  hardened  and 
 stiffened  by  pride.  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 CHEIST— the  Eesurrection. 
 
 Christ  is  the  Resurrection  ;  therefore  its 
 source  and  spring,  its  author  and  finisher, 
 in  a  sense  in  which  no  other  can  be.  When 
 He  emerged  from  the  tomb  on  the  morning 
 
 of  the  great  world's  Sabbath  He  brought 
 life  and  inimovtaiity  with  Him,  by  wh'ch 
 the  peai'ls  of  the  deep  sea,  before  awaiting 
 the  plunge  of  the  diver,  the  treasures, 
 before  lying  in  the  dark  mine,  were  by 
 Him  seized  and  brought  up  to  tlie  ligiit  of 
 day.  Life  and  immortality  were  broug-ht 
 to  light  by  the  Gospel;  and  with  tliis 
 knowledge  in  our  minds  we  seem  to  stand 
 by  the  Saviour's  broken  sepulchre  just  as 
 a  man  stands  upon  the  shelving  brink  of 
 the  precipice  from  which  some  frlend'y 
 hand  has  snatched  hiin,  shuddering  as  lie 
 thinks  of  the  awful  death  that  he  has  only 
 just  escaped.  Look,  and  see  the  place 
 where  the  Lord  lay,  and  tremble — but  re- 
 joice with  trembling.  Is  the  stone  theie 
 yet  ?  If  it  is,  if  the  stone  is  not  yet  rolled 
 away,  if  the  grave-stones  and  spices  yet 
 shrotid  and  embalm  the  corpse,  ihen  let 
 the  darkness  come  and  blot  out  the  sun, 
 and  bid  a  long  long  good  night  to  all  the 
 world's  hopes  of  life,  for  existence  is  a 
 feverish  dream,  and  death  shall  be  its 
 ghastly  but  its  welcome  end.  "  But  now 
 is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and  become 
 the  first-fruits  of  them  that  slept." 
 
 IF.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 CHEIST— EesuiTection  of. 
 
 Such  was  the  word  of  the  Apostles'  mes- 
 sage— that  the  stone  loas  rolled  away,  that 
 the  riddle  of  death  loas  solved ;  and  hearts 
 unnumbered  welcomed  the  tidings,  and 
 expanded  themselves  to  it,  as  flowers,  shut 
 through  some  dreary  night,  unfold  them- 
 selves to  the  warmth  and  the  light  of  the 
 returning  day.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 And  just  as  the  first  ripe  ears  of  corn 
 which  grew  on  the  plains  and  the  moun- 
 tain sides  of  Palestine  were  immediately 
 brought  into  the  Temple  and  waved  before 
 the  Lord,  as  a  pledge  that  every  ear  of 
 corn  standing  on  and  growing  in  Palestine 
 should  be  safely  reaped  and  gathered  in  ; 
 so  the  resurrection  of  Christ  is  a  demon- 
 stration that  we  His  people  shall  be  raised 
 again.  If  we  deep  in  Jesus  God  wiil 
 bring  us  with  Him  :  because  He  lives,  we 
 shall  live  also.  Dry  up  your  tears,  then. 
 Sometimes  you  go  to  the  churchyard ; 
 sometimes  you  attend  the  remains  of  your 
 relatives  to  their  long  homes ;  you  go  to 
 "  the  house  appointetl  for  all  living ;"  and 
 sometimes  you  see  the  bones  lying  round 
 the  grave,  and  you  are  tempted  to  take 
 them  up  and  ask,  "  Can  these  bones  live  ? 
 Can  these  dishonoured, dishevelled, denuded 
 bones  live  ?"  Can  the  dead  live  again  ? 
 "  Come,  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay." 
 As  surely  as  the  sejjulchre  of  Christ  be- 
 came an  empty  sepulchre,  so  surely  the 
 sepulchre  of  His  people  shall  become  empty 
 sepulchres  also  ;  as  surely  as  He  got  up  and 
 sung  a  jubilee  of  life  and  immortality,  so 
 
CEEI3T. 
 
 137 
 
 surely  sball  His  people  come  out  of  the 
 gi'iive.  How  Le-autifuily  lias  the  prophet 
 Isaiah  expressed  it !  "  Awake  and  slug, 
 ye  that  dwell  in  dust :  for  thy  dew  is  as 
 the  dew  of  herbs,  aud  the  earth  shall  cast 
 out  the  dead.  Thy  dead  men  shall  live, 
 together  with  my  dead  body  shall  they 
 arise."  Dr.  JBeaumont. 
 
 Oh  !  Day  of  days :  shall  hearts  set  free 
 
 No  "  minstrel  rapture  "  find  for  Thee  ? 
 
 Thou  art  the  Sun  of  other  days. 
 
 They  shine  by  giving  back  thy  rays ; 
 
 Enthroned  in  Thy  sovereign  sphere. 
 
 Thou  shedd'st  Thy  light  on  all  the  year ; 
 
 Sundays  by  Thee  more  glorious  break, 
 
 An  Easter  day  in  every  week  ; 
 
 And  week  days  following  in  their  train 
 
 The  fulness  of  Thy  blessing  gain, 
 
 Till  all,  both  resting  and  employ. 
 
 Be  one  Lord's  day  of  holy  joy.       J.  Keble. 
 
 CHEIST— a  Salvation. 
 
 Having  Christ  we  have  salvation  also, 
 while  without  receiving  Christ  himself  we 
 cannot  have  the  salvation.  Having  the 
 fountain  we  have  its  issuing  streams.  Cut 
 oft'  from  the  fountain  the  streams  will  not 
 flow  to  us.  Christ  offers  himself  to  be  the 
 Bridegroom  of  the  soul,  He  offers  to  en- 
 dow His  bride  with  all  the  riches  of  His 
 own  inheritance  in  the  heirship  of  His 
 Father.  Taking  Him  as  our  Bridegroom, 
 and  giving  ourselves  to  Him  as  the  bride 
 espouses  her  husljand,  with  Him  we  have 
 all  He  has  as  well  as  all  He  is,  while  with- 
 out Hhn  we  can  have  neither. 
 
 The  mistake  is  that  of  seeking  the  salva- 
 tion instead  of  seeking  the  Saviour.  Just 
 the  same  mistake  that  the  affianced  would 
 maktj  if  she  should  seek  to  have  the  pos- 
 sessions of  him  to  whom  she  was  engaged 
 made  over  to  her  from  him,  without  their 
 union  in  wedlock,  instead  of  accepting  his 
 ofler  of  himself,  aud  having  the  hymenial 
 bond  completed  by  which  he  and  all  he 
 has  would  become  hers. 
 
 W.  E.  Boardman. 
 CHEIST— a  Saviour. 
 
 He  is  not  a  temporal  Saviour — He  is  not 
 a  Saviour  from  mere  temporal  calamity — 
 He  is  not  a  Saviour  such  as  the  saviours 
 among  the  Jews  were,  who  had  emanci- 
 pated them  from  their  civil  foes,  but  He 
 is  a  Saviour  from  spiritual  evils;  He  saves 
 us  from  spiritual  darkness  by  His  word — 
 He  saves  us  from  the  pollution  and  the 
 power  of  sin  by  His  merit  and  grace — He 
 saves  us  from  the  bondage  of  Satan  by  His 
 energy — He  saves  from  hell,  for  He  became 
 a  curse  for  us,  that  we  might  attain  eternal 
 life;  His  salvation  extends  to  the  soul  as 
 well  as  to  the  body,  to  eternity  as  well  as 
 to  time.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 It  is  not  barely  said  that    "  He,"  but. 
 
 as  the  original  has  it,  "  He  Riinsdf  shall 
 save."  Joshua  saved  Israel,  not  by  his 
 own  power,  not  of  himself,  but  God  by 
 him;  neither  saved  he.  his  own  people, 
 but  the  people  of  God ;  whereas  Jesus 
 Himself,  by  His  own  power — the  power 
 of  God — saves  His  own  people,  the  people 
 of  God.  Bp.  Fearson. 
 
 CHSIST— a  Shepherd. 
 
 He  is  the  Good  Shepherd  that  laid  down 
 His  life  for  the  sheep  (John  x,  11);  the 
 Great  Shepherd  that  was  brought  again 
 from  the  dead  (Heb.  xiii,  20);  the  Chief 
 Shepherd  who  shall  appear  again  (1  Pet. 
 V,  4) ;  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls 
 (1  Pet.  ii,  25);  He  is  the  Shepherd  of  the 
 sheep,  who  gathers  the  lambs  with  His  arm, 
 and  carries  them  in  His  bosom  (John  x;  Is. 
 xl,  11) ;  the  Shepherd  of  Israel  (Ez.  xxxiv, 
 23) ;  Jehovah's  Shepherd  (Zee.  xiii,  7). 
 
 John  Bate. 
 CHRIST— Sonship  of 
 
 He  is  "  a  Son  given"  (Is.  ix,  6).  God 
 calls  Him  "My  Sou"  (Ps.  ii,  7).  Peter 
 designates  Him  "  the  Son  of  the  Living 
 God"  (Matt,  xvi,  16).  He  is  the  "One 
 Son,  His  well-beloved"  (Mark  xii,  6).  He 
 is  "  the  Son  of  the  Blessed"  (Mark  xiv,  61) ; 
 "the  Son  of  the  Highest"  (Luke  i,  32); 
 "  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father"  (John  i, 
 14)  ;  "  the  only  begotten  Son.  which  is  in 
 the  bosom  of  the  Father"  (J«hn  i,  18) ; 
 "His  only  begotten  Son  (John  iii,  16); 
 "  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God"  (John  iii, 
 18);  "the  first-born  of  every  creature" 
 (Col.  i,  15).  "  His  dear  Son"  (Col.  i,  13). 
 John  Bate. 
 
 Gabriel  testified  of  Him  as  "  the  Son  of 
 God  "  (Luke  i,  34 ;  ii,  1 1).  John  the  Baptist, 
 "This  is  the  Son  of  God"  (John  i,  34). 
 Nathaniel,  "  Rabbi,  thou  art  the  Son  of 
 God"  (John  i,  49).  Eunuch,  "Jesus  Christ 
 is  the  Son  of  God"  (Acts  viii,  37).  The 
 Legion,  "  Thou  Son  of  the  Most  High  God  " 
 (Mark  v,  7).  Martha,  "the  Christ  the 
 Son  of  God"  (John  xi,  27).  Centurion, 
 "Truly  this  was  the  Son  of  God"  (Mark 
 XV.  20).  The  disciples,  "  Thou  art  the  Son 
 of  God  "  (Matt,  xiv,  33).  Unclean  spirits, 
 "  Tliou  art  the  Son  of  God  "  (Mark  iii,  11). 
 The  Apostle  Paul,  "  He  is  the  Son  of  God" 
 (Acts  ix,  20).  Jesus  Himself  testifies,  "  I 
 am  the  Son  of  God "  (John  x,  36).  The 
 Father  also  bears  witness  of  Him:  "This 
 is  my  Beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
 pleased  "  (Matt,  xvii,  5 ;  iii,  17). 
 
 John  Bate. 
 CHRIST— Eternal  Sonship  of. 
 
 The  nature  of  God  is  perfect  from  ever- 
 lasting, and  the  generation  of  the  Son  of 
 God  was  no  voluntary  and  successive  act  of 
 God,  but  something  essential  to  the  God- 
 head, and  therefore  natural  and  eternal. 
 
133 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 We  may  illustrate  this  great  suhject, 
 tliongh  we  can  never  fully  comprehend 
 it.  All  natural  agents,  as  we  call  them, 
 act  or  operate  uniformly  and  necessarily. 
 If  they  should  change  their  action  or  ope- 
 ntiou,  we  should  immediately  infer  a 
 change  of  nature.  For  their  existence  in 
 a  certain  state  implies  that  action  or  ope- 
 ration. They  act  or  operate  by  what  we 
 call  a  necessity  of  nature,  or,  as  any  plain 
 uneducated  man  would  express  himself,  it 
 is  their  nature  so  to  do.  Thus  the  foun- 
 tain flows;  thus  the  sun  shines;  thus  the 
 mirror  reflects  whatever  is  before  it.  No 
 S(X)uer  did  the  fountain  exist  in  its  natu- 
 ral state  than  it  flowed.  No  sooner  did 
 the  sun  exist  in  its  natural  state  than  it 
 shone.  No  sooner  did  the  mirror  exist 
 in  its  natural  state  than  it  reflected  the 
 form  put  before  it.  These  actions  and 
 operations  are  all  successive,  and  are  mea- 
 sured by  time,  because  the  things  from 
 whence  they  result  exist  in  time,  and  their 
 existence  is  necessarily  successive.  But 
 had  the  fountain  existed  in  its  natural 
 state  from  everlasting,  it  must  have  flowed. 
 Had  the  sun  so  existed,  it  must  have  shone. 
 Hud  the  mirror  so  existed  it  must  have 
 reflected  whatever  was  before  it.  The  Son 
 of  Grod  is  no  voluntary  efl'ect  of  the  Father's 
 power  and  wisdom,  like  the  created  universe 
 which  once  did  not  exist  and  might  never 
 have  existed,  and  must  necessarily  be  ever 
 confined  within  the  bounds  of  time  and 
 space.  He  is  the  natural  and  necessarj% 
 and  therefore  the  eternal  and  infinite  birth 
 of  the  Divine  fecundity,  the  boundless  over- 
 flow of  the  Eternal  Fountain  of  all  existence 
 and  perfection,  the  infinite  splendour  of  the 
 Eternal  Sun,  the  unspotted  mirror  and  com- 
 plete and  adequate  image  in  whom  may  be 
 seen  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead.  This 
 places  the  orthodox  faith  at  an  equal  dis- 
 tance from  the  Sabellian  and  Arian  heresies, 
 and  will  ever  make  that  distance  absolutely 
 infinite.  This  is  no  figure  of  speech,  but  a 
 most  sober  truth.  R.  Watson. 
 
 Now,  the  communication  of  the  nature 
 of  God,  made  by  the  Father  to  the  Son, 
 may  be  called  a  proper  generation.  Nay, 
 it  is  more  proper  than  any  earthly  gene- 
 ration. For,  in  human  generation,  the  son 
 indeed  derives  his  nature  from  his  father, 
 but  it  is  in  a  manner  according  with  the 
 imperfection  of  humanity.  Man's  genera- 
 tion is  in  time  and,  as  connected  with  that 
 which  is  material,  results,  in  part  at  least, 
 from  that  property  of  matter  called  divisi- 
 bility. The  son,  too,  in  human  beings, 
 when  derived  from  the  father,  becomes 
 separate  from  him. 
 
 But  this  is  not  so  with  God.  God's 
 eternal  perfections  He,  from  all  eternity, 
 communicated  to  His  Son.  So  also  the 
 Divine   Essence,  being   by  reason   of  its 
 
 simplicity  not  subject  to  division,  and  in 
 respect  of  its  infinity  incapable  of  multipli- 
 cation, is  so  communicated  as  not  to  he 
 multi])lied,  insomuch  that  He,  which  pro- 
 ceedeth  by  that  communication,  hath  not 
 only  the  same  nature,  but  is  also  the  same 
 God.  The  Father  God,  and  the  Word 
 God;  Abraham  man,  and  Isaac  man;  but 
 Abraham  one  man,  Isaac  another  man ; 
 not  so  the  Father  one  God  and  the  Word 
 another,  but  the  Father  and  the  Word 
 both  the  same  God.  Since,  then,  the  pro- 
 priety of  generation  is  founded  in  the 
 essential  similitude  of  the  Son  unto  the 
 Father,  by  reason  of  the  same  which  He 
 receiveth  from  Him ;  since  the  full,  per- 
 fect nature  of  God  is  communicated  unto 
 the  Word,  and  that  more  intimately  and 
 with  a  greater  unity  or  identity  than  can 
 be  found  in  human  generation  ;  it  fol- 
 loweth  that  this  communication  of  the 
 Divine  nature  is  the  proper  generation, 
 by  which  Christ  is,  and  is  called  the  true 
 and  proper  Son  of  God.  Bp.  Broime. 
 
 CHEIST— a  Substitute. 
 
 It  is  not  by  incarnation,  but  bj'  blood- 
 shedding,  that  we  are  saved.  The  Christ  of 
 God  is  no  mere  expounder  of  wisdom ;  no 
 mere  deliverer  or  gracious  benefactor ;  and 
 they  who  think  that  they  have  told  the 
 whole  Gospel  when  they  have  spoken  of 
 Jesus  revealing  the  love  of  God,  do  greatly 
 err.  If  Christ  be  not  the  substitute,  He  is 
 nothing  to  the  sinner.  If  He  did  not  die 
 as  the  sin-hearer,  He  has  died  in  vain.  Let 
 us  not  be  deceived  on  this  point,  nor  misled 
 by  those  who,  when  they  announce  Christ 
 as  the  Deliverer,  think  they  have  preached 
 the  Gospel.  If  1  throw  a  rope  to  a  drown- 
 ing man,  and  risk  my  life  to  save  another, 
 I  am  a  deliverer.  But  is  Christ  no  more 
 than  that  ?  If  I  cast  myself  into  the  sea 
 and  risk  my  life  to  save  another,  I  am  a 
 deliverer.  But  is  Christ  no  more  ?  Did  He 
 but  risk  His  life?  The  very  essence  of 
 Christ's  deliverance  is  the  substitution  of 
 Himself  for  us.  His  life  for  ours.  He  did 
 not  come  to  risk  His  life :  He  came  to  die ; 
 He  did  not  redeem  us  by  a  little  loss,  a 
 little  sacrifice,  a  little  labour,  a  little  suffer- 
 ing :  "  He  redeemed  us  to  God  by  His 
 blood;"  "the  precious  blood  of  Christ." 
 He  gave  all  He  had,  even  His  life,  for  us. 
 This  is  the  kind  of  deliverance  that  awakens, 
 "  To  Him  that  loved  us  and  washed  us 
 from  our  sins  in  His  own  blood." 
 
 Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 CHRIST— Sufferings  of. 
 
 The  suff"erings  of  Christ  could  not  have 
 been,  either  in  kind  or  duration,  altogether 
 of  the  same  nature  as  are  endured  by  con- 
 demned sinners  in  a  state  of  punishment. 
 He  had  no  consciousness  of  personal  sin  j 
 no  sense  of  deserved  punishment  on  His 
 
CHRIST. 
 
 139 
 
 own  account ;  no  remorse  of  conscience ; 
 no  liopeless  despair ;  no  raging  sin  in  His 
 own  soul ;  no  malice,  fury,  and  blasphemy 
 against  the  holy  and  blessed  God  Himself 
 No  such  passions  as  these,  not  in  the 
 slightest  degree,  could  exist  in  the  soul  of 
 the  holy  Jesus.  He  suffered  only  as  a  per- 
 fectly holy  being  could  suffer.  Still,  the 
 sufferings  of  His  soul  were  intense  beyond 
 our  conception,  from  the  sight  and  sense 
 He  had  of  the  malignity  of  devils,  the 
 enormity  of  sin,  the  displeasure  of  God 
 against  transgression.  He  was  not  pun- 
 islied,  but  He  bore  our  punishment.  God 
 was  not  angry  with  Him,  for  He  never 
 loved  Him  more  than  when  He  bowed  His 
 head  and  died;  but  a  sense  of  God's  dis- 
 pleasure filled  His  soul.  /.  A.  James. 
 
 We  may  paint  the  outward  appearance 
 of  His  sufferings,  but  not  the  inward  bitter- 
 ness or  invisible  causes  of  them.  Men  can 
 paint  the  cursed  tree,  but  not  the  curse  of 
 the  law  that  made  it  so.  Men  can  paint 
 Christ  bearing  the  cross  to  Calvary,  but 
 not  Christ  bearing  the  sins  of  many.  We 
 may  describe  the  nails  piercing  His  sacred 
 flesh,  but  who  can  describe  eternal  justice 
 piercing  both  flesh  and  spirit  ?  We  may 
 describe  the  soldier's  spear,  but  not  the 
 arrowsof  the  Almighty ;  the  cup  of  vinegar 
 which  He  but  tasted,  but  not  the  cup  of 
 wrath  which  He  drank  out  to  the  lowest 
 dregs;  the  derision  of  the  Jews,  but  not 
 the  desertion  of  the  Almighty  forsaking 
 His  Son,  that  He  might  never  forsake  us 
 who  were  His  enemies.  J.Maclaurm. 
 
 They  were  predicted.  They  were  known 
 by  Him  beforehand — all  through  life,  and 
 from  eternity.  They  were  the  fulfilment 
 of  certain  prophecies,  promises,  types  and 
 symbols,  which  were  contained  in  the  Old 
 Testament  religion.  They  were  voluntary. 
 They  were  solitary — He  endured  them 
 alone,  and  no  one  ever  endured  the  parallel 
 of  them.  They  were  lifelong.  They  were 
 limited  to  His  human  person,  body  and 
 soul  pai  taking  of  them.  They  were  vica- 
 rious and  atoning.  They  were  patiently 
 endured.  They  were  triumphant.  They 
 were  fullowed  by  glory.  They  show  to  us 
 the  evil  nature  of  sin;  the  benign  cha- 
 racter of  the  Divine  will  and  the  Holy 
 Sufferer;  set  us  a  noble  example  under 
 sufl'ering ;  and  teach  us  that  the  ultimate 
 issue  of  our  sufferings  will  be  glory  ever- 
 lasting.    John  Bate. 
 
 Christ  suffered  in  all  His  senses  : — 1.  In 
 His  eyes;  they  beheld  two  sad  objects, 
 His  enemies  insulting,  and  His  mother 
 w;'eping.  2.  In  His  ears ;  they  were  filled 
 with  the  revilings  of  the  people.  3.  In 
 His  smell ;  when  the  drivel  fell  upon  His 
 face.    4.  In   His  taste  j  when  they  gave 
 
 Him  gall   and   vinegar  to   drink.      5.  In 
 
 His    feeling;     His    head     suffered    with 
 
 thorns.  His  hands  and  feet  with  the  nails. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Surety. 
 
 Christ  hath  made  full  satisfaction  to 
 God's  justice,  so  now  it  is  but  dipping  the 
 pen  in  the  blood  of  Christ  and  dashing  out 
 iniquity.  Nay,  Christ  Himself  hath  blotted 
 out  even  this  handwriting  that  was  against 
 
 us,   and  nailed  it  to  His  cross 
 
 God  hath  more  satisfaction  to  His  justice 
 by  every  believer,  than  by  the  damned  that 
 lie  in  hell  to  all  eternity,  for  they  are  never 
 able  to  discharge  the  debt,  but  every  be- 
 liever by  his  Surety  hath  paid  the  utter- 
 most farthing.  Culverivell. 
 
 CHRIST— a  Teacher. 
 
 We  notice  the  perfect  originality  and 
 independence  of  His  teaching.  We  have 
 a  great  many  men  who  are  original,  in  the 
 sense  of  being  originators,  within  a  certain 
 boundary  of  educated  thought.  But  the 
 originality  of  Christ  is  uneducated.  That 
 He  draws  nothing  from  the  stores  of  learn- 
 ing can  be  seen  at  a  glance.  The  im- 
 pression we  have  in  reading  His  instruc- 
 tions justifies  to  the  letter  the  language 
 of  His  contemporaries,  when  they  say, 
 "  This  man  hath  never  learned."  There 
 is  nothing  in  any  of  His  allusions  or  forms 
 of  speech  that  indicates  learning.  Indeed, 
 there  is  nothing  in  Him  that  belongs  to 
 His  age  or  country — no  one  opinion,  or 
 task,  or  prejudice.  The  attempts  that 
 have  been  made,  in  a  way  of  establishing 
 His  mere  natural  manhood,  to  show  that 
 He  borrowed  His  sentiments  from  the 
 Persians  and  the  Eastern  forms  of  re- 
 ligion, or  that  He  had  been  intimate  with 
 the  Essenes,  and  borrowed  from  them,  or 
 that  He  must  have  been  acquainted  with 
 the  schools  and  religions  of  Egypt,  deriving 
 His  doctrine  from  them — all  attempts  of 
 the  kind  having  so  palpably  failed,  as  not 
 even  to  require  a  deliberate  answer.  If 
 He  is  simply  a  man,  as  we  hear,  then  He 
 is  most  certainly  a  new  and  singular  kind 
 of  man,  never  before  heard  of;  one  who 
 visibly  is  quite  as  great  a  miracle  in  the 
 world  as  if  He  were  not  a  man.  We  can 
 see  for  ourselves,  in  the  simple  directness 
 and  freedom  of  His  teachings,  that  what- 
 ever  He  advances  is  for  Himself.  Shake- 
 speare, for  instance,  whom  we  name  as 
 being  probably  the  most  creative  and 
 original  spirit  the  world  has  ever  pro- 
 duced, one  of  the  class,  too,  that  are  called 
 self-made  men,  is  yet  tinged  in  all  his 
 works  with  human  learning.  His  glory 
 is,  indeed,  that  so  much  of  what  is  great 
 in  history  and  historic  character  lives  and 
 appears  in  his  dramatic  creations.  He  is 
 the   high-priest,    we    sometimes    hear,  of 
 
liO 
 
 CESIST. 
 
 ]iuraan  nature.  But  Christ,  uriclerstaiid- 
 iniif  l/umi»n  nature  so  as  to  ad.lress  it  more 
 skilfully  than  he,  never  draws  ft-om  its 
 historic  treasures.  He  is  the  High  Priest, 
 rather,  of  the  Divine  nature,  speaking  as 
 one  that  has  come  out  fi-om  God,  and  has 
 nothing  to  horiow  from  the  world.  It  is 
 not  to  be  detected  by  any  sign  that  the 
 human  sphere  in  which  He  moved  im- 
 parted anything  to  Him.  His  teachings 
 are' just  as"  full  of  Divine  natuie  as  Shake- 
 speare's of  human.  I>r.  Bushnell. 
 
 CHEIST— Teaching  of. 
 
 As  to  His  mode  of  teaching,  it  was  not 
 systematic;  and  in  this  His  example  was 
 imitated  by  the  Apostles.  The  language 
 and  form  in  which  it  was  delivered  was  uu- 
 philosopliical;  tliat  is,  instead  of  employing 
 terms  of  science.  He  formed  His  expressions 
 from  passing  occurrences,  and  whatever 
 objects  happened  to  be  present  to  His 
 hearers  at  the  time  of  His  addressing 
 them.  Or  else  He  spoke  in  parables,  or 
 made  use  of  that  ancient  symbolic  lan- 
 guage so  often  adopted  by  the  Jewish 
 prophets,  as  when  He  washed  His  disciples' 
 feet,  and  sat  a  child  in  the  midst  of  them. 
 
 As  to  the  matter  of  His  teaching.  His 
 discourses  aim  either  at  correcting  what 
 was  perverted,  and  explaining  what  was 
 obscure  in  the  preceding  state  of  morals 
 and  religious  knowledge,  or  else  they  de- 
 clare truths  not  before  revealed.  With  the 
 several  leading  topics  which  they  embrace, 
 the  Christian  reader  is  presumed  to  be 
 familiar  J  and  it  is  sufficient  to  observe 
 briefly,  that  of  the  former  kind  are  His 
 exhortations  of  inward  purity,  as  opposed 
 to  mere  outward  acts  of  obedience,  and 
 compliance  with  the  spirit  rather  than  with 
 the  letter  of  the  precept.  To  the  latter 
 class  belong  the  doctrines  of  Atonement  and 
 Grace ;  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity  j  certain 
 points  of  revelation  relating  to  a  future 
 state ;  and  whatever  else  may  be  considered 
 as  peculiar  to  the  Christian  revelation. 
 
 Bj).  Minds. 
 CHRIST — Temptation  of. 
 
 Temptation  has  two  senses.  It  means 
 test  or  probation ;  it  also  means  trial,  in- 
 volving the  idea  of  pain  or  danger.  A 
 common  acid  applied  to  gold  tests  it,  but 
 there  is  no  risk  or  danger  to  the  most  de- 
 licate golden  ornament.  There  is  one  acid, 
 and  only  one,  which  tries  it  as  well  as  tests 
 it.  The  same  acid  applied  to  a  .shell  en- 
 dangers the  delicacy  of  its  surface.  A 
 weight  hung  from  a  bar  of  iron  only  tests 
 its  strength ;  the  same  depending  from  a 
 human  arm  is  a  trial,  involving,  it  may  be, 
 the  risk  of  pain  or  fracture.  Now,  trial 
 placed  before  a  sinless  being  is  intelligible 
 enough  in  the  sense  of  probation ;  it  is  a 
 test  of  excellence ;  but  it  is  not  easy  to  see 
 
 how  it  can  be  temptation  in  the  sense  of 
 pain,  if  there  be  no  inclination  to  do  wrong. 
 However,  Scripture  plainly  asserts  this  as 
 the  character  of  Christ's  tem])tation.  Not 
 merely  test,  but  trial.       F.  IF.  Robertson. 
 
 Christ  was  "tempted  like  as  we  are." 
 Are  we  tempted  through  the  senses? 
 So  was  He.  Are  we  tempted  by  oppor- 
 tunities of  carnal  honour  and  carnal 
 power?  So  was  He.  Are  we  templed 
 through  our  human  affections  ?  So  was 
 He.  Are  we  tempted  to  deflection  from 
 the  path  of  obedience  by  the  infirmifies 
 of  the  good,  or  the  crafty  questioning 
 of  the  worldly  wise  ?  So  was  He.  Every 
 testing  process  to  which  we  are  subjected 
 He  went  through.  Satan  omitted  no  con- 
 ceivable mode,  and  withheld  no  possible 
 intensity  of  trial  from  the  holy  soul  of 
 Immanuel.  All  the  magic  prospects  and 
 all  the  soothing  illusions  that  externnlisui 
 could  give,  all  its  joyful  or  mournful  in- 
 fluences, all  its  power  of  tenderness  or 
 terror,  he  employed  to  enchant  or  to  assail 
 the  Son  of  Man.  So  He  was  tempted  in 
 all  points  as  we  are,  as  to  the  instruments 
 of  temptation,  though  He  had  not  all  our 
 susceptibilities  to  their  touch.  In  all  points 
 in  which  He  could  innocently.  He  did  actu- 
 ally resemble  us.  He  was  ever  tempted  as 
 we  are;  though  ever  victorious,  as  we  are 
 not.  C.  Stanford. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Truth. 
 
 Our  blessedness  is,  that  Christ  does  not 
 decliire  to  us  a  system  and  say,  "  This  is 
 the  truth;"  so  doing  He  might  have  esta- 
 blished a  school :  but  He  points  to  a  per- 
 son, even  to  Himself,  and  says  "  I  am  the 
 Truth,"  and  thus  He  founded,  not  a  school, 
 but  a  Church,  a  fellowship  which  stands  in 
 its  faith  upon  a  person,  not  in  its  tenure 
 of  a  doctrine,  or  at  least  only  mediately 
 and  in  a  secondary  sense  upon  this. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 CHRIST— Union  of  the  Divine  and  Human 
 in. 
 And  they  sJiall  call  His  name  Immanuel, 
 4c.  By  a  wonderful  and  unsearcliable 
 union :  the  manner  whereof  is  to  be  be- 
 lieved, not  discussed ;  admired,  not  pried 
 into  :  personal  it  is,  yet  not  of  persons  :  of 
 natures,  and  yet  not  natural.  As  a  soul 
 and  body  are  one  man,  so  God  and  man 
 arc  one  person,  saith  Athanasius.  And  as 
 every  believer  that  is  born  of  God,  saith 
 another,  remains  the  same  entire  person 
 that  he  was  before,  receiving  nevertheless 
 into  him  a  divine  nature,  which  before  he 
 had  not ;  so  Immanuel,  continuing  the  same 
 perfect  person,  which  he  had  been  from 
 eternity,  assumeth  nevertheless  a  human 
 nature,  which  before  he  had  not,  to  be 
 borne  within  his  person  for  ever.     This  is 
 
CHEIST. 
 
 141 
 
 so  mncli  the  more  wonderful,  because  the 
 very  aiigels  (which  are  far  greater  in  gloi'y 
 tlian  man)  are  not  able  to  abide  the  pre- 
 sence of  God  (!sa.  vi,  2).  But  this  is  our 
 ladder  of  ascension  to  God  (John  iii,  12). 
 Taith  first  lays  hold  upon  Christ  as  a  man ; 
 and  thereby,  as  by  a  mean,  makes  way  to 
 Goii,  and  embraceth  the  Godhead,  which  is 
 of  itself  a  consuming  fire.  And  whereas 
 sin  is  a  partition-wall  of  our  own  making, 
 denying  us  access,  "  God  is  now  with  us  :" 
 and  in  Christ  "  we  have  boldness  and 
 access  with  confidence  by  the  faith  of  Him." 
 Christ's  humanity  serves  as  a  screen  to  save 
 us  from  those  everlasting  burnings ;  and  as 
 a  conduit,  to  derive  upon  us  from  the  God- 
 head, all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly 
 l^laces :  if  any  Assyrian  invade  us,  we  may 
 cry  as  they  of  old,  "  The  stretching  out  of 
 his  wings  doth  fill  thy  land,  0  Immanuel ;" 
 and  we  shall  have  help.  J.  Trapp, 
 
 CIir.IET— Unworldliness  of. 
 
 Do,  I  sny,  as  Christ  Himself  did  when 
 He  lived  here  on  earth,  imitate  Him  as  much 
 as  in  thee  lies.  How  many  great  Caesars, 
 mighty  monarchs,  tetrachs,  dynasties, 
 princes,  lived  in  His  days ;  in  what  plenty, 
 what  delicacy,  how  bravely  attended ;  what 
 a  deal  of  gold  and  silver,  what  treasure ; 
 how  many  sumptuous  palaces  had  they; 
 what  provinces  and  cities,  what  territories, 
 fields,  rivers,  fountains,  parks,  forests, 
 lawns,  woods,  cells,  &;c. ;  yet  Christ  had 
 none  of  all  this.  He  would  have  none  of 
 this.  He  voluntarily  rejected  all  this ;  He 
 could  not  be  ignorant.  He  could  not  err  in 
 His  choice.  He  contemned  all  this;  He 
 chose  that  which  was  safer,  better,  and 
 more  certain,  and  less  to  be  repented— a 
 mean  estate,  even  poverty  itself. 
 
 R.  Burton. 
 CHRIST— Use  of. 
 
 As  we  are  God's  and  Christ's,  so  God  and 
 Christ  are  ours.  Now,  whosoever  possess- 
 eth  any  good  for  his  own,  may  doubtless 
 make  use  of  the  same  to  his  own  profit  in 
 the  best  manner  that  he  can.  And  so  is 
 Christ  become  ours,  that  we  may  use  Him 
 for  our  salvation,  which  is  an  everlasting 
 profit,  according  as  we  will  ourselves. 
 Wherefore  thou  mayest  make  use  of  Him, 
 for  the  Medicine  of  thy  soul,  to  restore 
 thee  ;  thy  Meat  and  I>rinlc,  to  refresh 
 thee;  the  Fountain  of  Life,  to  quench  thy 
 soul's  thirst ;  thy  Light  in  darkness;  thy  Jo_y 
 in  sadness  ;  thine  Advocate,  against  the 
 accuser  ;  Wisdom  against  thy  folly  ;  Rir/h- 
 teousness,  against  thy  sin ;  Sanctijication, 
 against  thy  unworthiness ;  Redemption, 
 against  thy  bondage;  thy  Victory,  against 
 all  thine  enemies;  thy  Champion,  against 
 all  thy  persecutors ;  thy  Way,  against  thy 
 wandering;  thy  Truth,  against  lying  and 
 vanity ;  thy  Life,  against  death ;  thy  JEver- 
 
 lasiinr/  Father,  when  thou  wast  an  orphan 
 and  desolate ;  thy  Prince  of  Peace,  against 
 the  adversary ,  thine  everlasting  "pLiyh 
 Priest,  who  intercedeth  for  thee. 
 
 John  Arndt, 
 CHRIST— a  Victim. 
 
 He  was  the  victim  of  sin.  He  died  by  sin. 
 It  is  the  appalling  mystery  of  our  redemp- 
 tion that  the  Redeemer  took  the  attitude  of 
 subjection  to  evil.  There  was  scarcely  a 
 form  of  evil  with  whicii  Christ  did  not  come 
 in  contact,  and  by  which  He  did  not  suffer. 
 He  was  the  victim  of  false  friendship  and 
 ingratitude,  the  victim  of  bad  government 
 and  injustice.  He  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the 
 vices  of  all  classes — to  the  selfishness  of  the 
 rich,  and  the  fickleness  of  the  poor;  in- 
 tolerance, formalism,  scepticism,  hatred  of 
 goodness,  were  the  foes  which  crushed 
 Him. 
 
 In  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  He  was 
 a  victim.  He  did  not  adroitly  wind  through 
 the  dangerous  forms  of  evil,  meetmg  it  with 
 expedient  silence.  Face  to  face,  front  to 
 fi-ont.  He  met  it,  rebuked  it,  and  defied  it ; 
 and  just  as  truly  as  he  is  a  voluntary  vic- 
 tim whose  body,  opposing  the  progress  of 
 the  car  of  Juggernaut,  is  crushed  beneath 
 its  monstrous  wheels,  was  He  a  victim  to 
 the  world's  sin  :  because  pure.  He  was 
 crushed  by  impurity  ;  because  just,  and 
 real,  and  true.  He  waked  up  the  rage  of 
 injustice,  hypocrisy,  and  falsehood. 
 
 F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 CHRIST— Victory  of. 
 
 It  was  a  spectacle  worth  the  admiration 
 of  the  universe  to  see  the  despised  Galilean 
 turn  all  the  artillery  of  hell  back  upon  itself: 
 to  see  one  in  the  likeness  of  the  Son  of  man 
 wresting  the  keys  of  hell  and  death  out  of 
 the  hands  of  the  devil :  to  see  Him  entang- 
 ling the  rulers  of  darkness  in  their  own 
 nets,  and  making  them  ruin  their  designs 
 with  their  own  stratagems.  They  made 
 one  disciple  betray  Him,  and  another  deny 
 Him;  they  made  the  Jews  accuse  Him, 
 and  the  Romans  crucify  Him  :  but  the 
 wonderful  Counsellor  was  more  than  match 
 ibr  the  old  serpent;  and  the  Lion  of  the 
 tribe  of  Judah  too  hard  for  the  roaring 
 Uon.  The  devices  of  these  powers  of  dark- 
 ness were  in  the  event  made  means  of  spoil- 
 ing and  triumphing  over  themselves  (Col. 
 ii,  15).  The  greatest  cruelty  of  devils,  and 
 their  instruments,  was  made  subservient  to 
 the  designs  of  the  infinite  mercy  of  God ; 
 and  that  hideous  sin  of  the  sons  of  men 
 overruled  in  a  perfectly  holy  manner,  for 
 making  an  end  of  sin,  and  bringing  in  ever- 
 lasting righteousness  (Dan.  ix,  2i).  The 
 opposition  made  to  this  deliverance  did  but 
 advance  its  glory ;  particularly  the  oppo- 
 sition it  met  with  from  these  for  whose 
 good  it  was  intended,  that  is,  sinners  them* 
 
142 
 
 CH£IST. 
 
 selves :  this  served  to  enhance  the  glory  of 
 mysterious  long-suflering  and  mercy. 
 
 «/.  Maclaurin. 
 CHEIST— the  Way. 
 
 "  I  am  the  Way."  As  a  road  is  that 
 along  which  men  go  to  their  daily  avoca- 
 tions, God  chooses  it  to  represent  Himself 
 in  this  universal  use,  this  underlying  sup- 
 port of  all  things.  Who  would  dare  to  say 
 this  of  God  but  God  ?  Some  beasts  carry 
 their  young,  and  some  birds  carry  their 
 young,  and  mothers  carry  their  children; 
 hut  who  but  God  could  say,  "  I  am  the 
 road ;  press  Me  with  your  feet  ?  "  This  is 
 the  highway  cast  up;  and  on  it  the  ran- 
 somed of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come 
 to  Zion  with  songs  of  everlasting  joy  upon 
 their  heads.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 It  is  said  that  the  ancient  city  of  Troy 
 had  but  one  way  of  entrance.  In  whatever 
 direction  the  traveller  went,  he  would  find 
 no  way  to  go  into  the  city  but  the  one 
 which  was  legally  appointed,  and  the  only 
 one  which  was  used  by  those  who  went  in 
 and  out.  There  is  only  one  right  way  to 
 the  favour  of  God,  to  the  family  of  God, 
 to  the  presence  of  God  in  prayer,  and 
 finally  to  the  city  of  God  in  eternity,  and 
 that  one  way  is  Christ.  "  I  am  the  Way," 
 He  declares,  "  and  no  man  cometh  unto  the 
 Father  but  by  Me."  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRIST— the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Life. 
 
 "  I  am,"  saith  Christ,  "  the  Way,  the 
 Truth,  and  the  Life."  As  if  He  should 
 have  said,  "  Without  the  way,  no  man 
 goeth  on;  without  the  truth,  nothing  is 
 known ;  and  without  life,  no  man  liveth : 
 therefore  look  unto  Me,  who  am  the  Waij, 
 which  you  ought  to  walk  in;  the  Truth, 
 which  you  ought  to  believe  in ;  and  the 
 Life,  which  you  ought  to  live  and  hope  in. 
 1  am  the  Wai/  that  endureth  to  all  ages ; 
 the  infallible  Truth,  and  the  Life  everlast- 
 ing. The  royal  way  to  immortal  life  is 
 through  my  merit :  the  truth  itself  is  my 
 Word ;  and  life  is  through  the  power  and 
 efficacy  of  my  death;  and  therefore,  if  ye 
 continue  in  this  tvay,  the  truth  will  carry 
 you  on  to  eternal  life.  If  ye  will  not  err, 
 come  follow  me ;  and  if  ye  will  possess  life 
 eternal,  put  your  whole  trust  in  me,  who 
 for  you  endured  the  death  of  the  cross." 
 And  what  is  that  royal  way,  that  infallible 
 truth,  and  that  endless  life — the  best  and 
 most  noble  way,  and  truth,  and  life  of  all 
 otiiers  ?  Truly,  other  way  there  can  be 
 none  but  the  most  holy  and  precious  merit 
 of  Christ ;  nor  other  truth,  Ijut  the  Word 
 of  God ;  nor  other  life,  but  love  on  earth 
 and  immortality  of  life  in  heaven. 
 
 John  Arndt. 
 CHRIST— in  a  ruined  World. 
 
 It  was  in  the  midst  of  a  triumph,  and  all 
 
 the  pride  of  a  procession,  tliat  He  paused 
 to  weep  over  ruined  Jerusalem.  And  if  we 
 ask  the  reason  why  the  character  of  Christ 
 was  marked  by  this  melancholy  condescen- 
 sion, it  is  that  He  was  in  the  midst  of  a 
 world  of  ruins,  and  there  was  nothing  there 
 to  gladden,  but  very  much  to  touch  with 
 grief.  He  was  here  to  restore  that  wliich 
 was  broken  down  and  crumbling  into  decay. 
 An  enthusiastic  antiquarian,  standing  a- 
 midst  the  fragments  of  an  ancient  temple. 
 surrounded  by  dust  and  moss,  broken  pillar, 
 and  defaced  architrave,  with  magnificent 
 projects  in  his  mind  of  restoring  all  this  to 
 former  majesty,  to  draw  out  to  light  from 
 mere  rubbish  the  ruined  glories,  and  there- 
 fore stooping  down  amongst  the  dank  ivy, 
 and  the  rank  nettles ;  such  was  Christ 
 amidst  the  wreck  of  human  nature.  He 
 was  striving  to  lift  it  out  of  its  degradation. 
 He  was  searching  out  in  revolting  places 
 that  which  had  fallen  down,  that  He  might 
 build  it  up  again  in  fair  proportions,  a  holy 
 temple  to  the  Lord.  Therefore  He  laboured 
 among  the  guilty  ;  therefore  He  was  the 
 companion  of  outcasts ;  therefore  He  spoke 
 tenderly  and  lovingly  to  those  whom  so- 
 ciety counted  undone ;  therefore  He  loved 
 to  bind  up  the  bruised  and  the  broken- 
 hearted ;  therefore  His  breath  fanned  the 
 spark  which  seemed  dying  out  in  the  wick 
 of  the  expiring  taper,  vvhen  men  thought 
 tliat  it  was  too  late,  and  that  the  hour  of 
 hopeless  profligacy  was  come.  It  was  that 
 feature  in  His  character,  that  tender, 
 hoping,  encouraging  spirit  of  His,  which 
 the  prophet  Isaiah  fixed  upon  as  charac- 
 teristic— "A  bruised  reed  will  He  not 
 break."  It  was  an  illustration  of  this 
 spirit  that  He  gave  in  the  parable  of  the 
 prodigal  son.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 CHRIST— Yonthood  of. 
 
 Extending  from  His  early  youth  into  the 
 years  of  mature  manhood,  there  is  a  great 
 blank  in  our  Lord's  history.  Eighteen 
 years  of  His  life  stand  unaccounted  for; 
 and  that  blank,  looking  as  dark  as  the 
 starless  regions  of  the  sky,  tradition, 
 usually  so  fertile  in  invention,  has  not  at- 
 tempted to  fill  up.  How  often  have  I 
 wondered  and  tried  to  fancy  what  Jesus 
 did,  and  how  He  passed  the  time  between 
 His  boyhood,  when  He  vanishes  from  our 
 sight,  and  His  thu-tieth  year,  when  He 
 again  appears  upon  the  stage  to  enter  on 
 His  public  ministry !  Thanks  to  His 
 townsmen's  envious  sneer,  or  rather  thanks 
 to  Him  who  permitted  the  insult,  and  thus 
 has  made  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  Him, 
 their  insolent  taunt  throws  a  ray  of  light 
 into  the  deep  obscurity.  Their  question,  "Is 
 not  this  the  carpenter  ?"  not,  as  at  another 
 time,  the  carpenter's  son,  but  the  i:ar- 
 penter  Himself,  suggests  to  us  the  picture 
 j  of  a  humble  home  in  Nazareth,  known  to 
 
CEEISTIAlf. 
 
 143 
 
 the  ncigTibourhoocT  as  the  carpenter's,  and 
 under  whose  roof  of  thatch  Jesus  resided 
 ■with  His  mother  ;  in  all  probability  then  a 
 widow,  and,  like  many  a  widow  since  then, 
 cheered  by  the  love  and  supported  by 
 the  labours  of  a  dutiful  son.  I  have  no 
 doubt  that  holy  angels,  turning  their 
 wings  away  from  lordly  mansions  and  the 
 proud  palaces  of  kings,  often  hovered  over 
 that  peaceful  home,  as  still  they  who  are 
 ministering  spirits  sent  forth  for  them  who 
 shall  be  heirs  of  salvation  do  over  the 
 humblest  abode  of  piety.  But,  so  far  as 
 this  \W3rld  and  its  inhabitants  were  con- 
 cerned, Jesus  passed  His  days  in  contented 
 obscurity,  unnoticed  and  unknown  save 
 to  the  neighbours,  whose  esteem  He  could 
 not  fail  to  win  by  His  pure  life,  and  gentle 
 temper,  and  holy  manners.  He  was  to 
 grow  in  favour  with  God  and  man.  All 
 Nazareth  regarded  Him  as  a  paragon  of 
 human  virtues,  and  many  a  mother  pointed 
 to  Mary's  son  as  the  pattern  her  own  lads 
 should  copy. 
 
 How  wonderful  it  is  to  transport  our- 
 selves back  in  fancy  some  eighteen  hundred 
 years  to  that  smalltown;  and  on  asking 
 with  the  Greeks  to  "  see  Jesus,"  to  be  con- 
 ducted to  a  humble  dwelling  where  chips 
 of  wood,  and  squared  logs,  and  unbarked 
 trunks  of  trees  lying  about,  in  the  oak,  and 
 olive,  and  cedar,  and  sycamore,  that  had  fallen 
 to  his  axe,  point  out  the  carpenter's.  By  the 
 door,  and  under  a  hovering  vine,  which, 
 trained  beneath  the  eaves  over  some  rude 
 trellis-work,  forms  a  grateful  shade  from 
 the  noon-day  sun,  a  widow  sits,  her  fingers 
 employed  in  weaving,  but  an  expression  in 
 her  face  and  eye  which  indicates  a  mind 
 engaged  in  far  loftier  objects,  thoughts 
 deeper,  holier,  stranger,  than  a  buried 
 husband  and  a  widow's  grief.  She  rises, 
 lifts  the  latch,  and,  stooping,  we  enter 
 that  lowly  door;  and  there,  bending  to 
 His  work,  we  see  the  carpenter — in  Him 
 the  Son  of  the  Most  High  God !  Time  was 
 when  He  set  His  compass  on  the  deep ; 
 time  was  when  He  stood  and  measured  the 
 earth ;  and  now,  with  line  and  compass, 
 and  plane  and  hatchet,  the  sweat  dropping 
 from  His  lofty  brow,  He  who  made  heaven, 
 and  earth,  and  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them 
 is,  in  the  guise  of  a  common  tradesman, 
 bends  at  a  carpenter's  bench.  How  low 
 He  stooped  to  save  us !  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— A. 
 
 See  wdiat  a  Christian  is  drawn  by  the 
 hand  of  Christ.  He  is  a  man  on  whose 
 clear  and  open  brow  God  has  set  the  stamp 
 of  truth ;  one  whose  very  eye  beams  bright 
 with  honour ;  in  whose  very  look  and  bear- 
 ing you  may  see  freedom,  manliness,  vera- 
 city; a  brave  man — a  noble  man — frank, 
 generous,  true;  with,  it  may  be,  many 
 faults  J  whose  freedom  may  take  the  form 
 
 of  impetuosity  or  rashness,  but  the  form  of 
 meanness,  never.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 You  have  often  heard  me  mention  my 
 friend  John  Fuller — who  supposed  himself 
 to  be  a  lineal  descendant  of  old  Thomas 
 Fuller,  and  felt  a  little  innocent  pride  in  so 
 thinking  ;  the  only  pride  I  ever  saw  in  him. 
 He  is  dead,  and  has  carried  with  him  out 
 of  the  world  as  much  true  worth,  I  believe, 
 as  ever  existed  in  any  one  heart  of  it.  He 
 was  a  genuine  Christian,  if  ever  there  was 
 one.  As  to  the  species,  indeed.  I  rather 
 think  he  would  have  been  himself  puzzled 
 to  say.  "  Was  he  Episcopalian — Presbyte- 
 rian— Calvinist — Arminian  ?"  I  hear  half  a 
 thousand  zealots  say.  I  hardly  know ;  but 
 I  am  sure  he  was  a  Christian,  for  he  exhi- 
 bited, in  great  perfection,  all  the  principal 
 "  paradoxes"  of  sentiment  and  conduct 
 which  Bacon  represents  as  characteristic 
 of  one.  He  exercised  an  absolute  faith  "  in 
 the  merits  of  Christ  for  salvation,"  and  yet 
 was  as  much  impelled  to  do  "  good  works" 
 as  if  he  thought  he  could  be  saved  only  by 
 his  own.  "  He  believed  Christ  could  have 
 no  need  of  anything  he  could  do,  and  yet 
 made  account  that  he  relieved  Christ  in  all 
 his  acts  of  charity ;"  "  he  knew  he  could 
 do  nothing  of  himself,  and  yet  he  laboured 
 to  work  out  his  own  salvation."  Heprat/ed 
 and'  laboured  for  that  which  he  was  confi- 
 dent God  meant  to  give."  He  was  full  of 
 gentleness,  patience,  cliarity;  and  felt  an 
 especial  pleasure  in  doing  a  kindness  to 
 those  who  had  wronged  him,  and  in  giving 
 a  benefaction  to  a  Christian  who  did  not 
 wear  the  outward  costume  he  altogether 
 approved.  Now,  if  all  that  does  not  make 
 a  Christian,  I  know  not  what  does. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Active. 
 
 We  missedhim  when  he  was  gone.  Wlien 
 he  went  hence  he  left  something  more 
 than  a  tomb  behind  him.  He  left  a  goodly 
 heritage  of  holy  deeds.  There  is  a  fragrant 
 perfume  yet  lingering  about  his  "  precious" 
 memory — ^the  trail  of  light  that  followed 
 his  luminous  pathway  has  not  yet  died 
 away  from  our  saddened  vision. 
 
 He  was  a  legible  Christian.  There  was 
 no  mistaking  him.  He  never  stood  upon 
 debatable  ground — he  never  required  one 
 to  search  the  Church  records  to  see  whe- 
 ther he  were  a  "professor  of  religion." 
 We  ^felt  his  religion. 
 
 You  might  follow  him  at  any  time  by 
 the  fragrance  of  his  Christlike  deeds  of 
 well-doing.  You  might  enter  the  house  of 
 sorrow  and  see  that  he  had  been  there  by 
 the  weeping  eyes  once  more  dried,  and  the 
 broken  hearts  bound  up.  You  might  enter 
 the  abode  of  poverty,  and  see  that  he  had 
 been  there  by  t!ie  plentiful  stores  which 
 his  bounty  had  lei't  behind — by   the  food 
 
1-14 
 
 CHSISTIAlf. 
 
 and  the  raimeiit,  by  the  consoling  tract 
 left  upon  the  table,  and  the  Bible  set  there 
 as  a  household  lamp  to  clieer  the  thick 
 darkness.  If  you  f<aw  a  group  of  children 
 gathered  by  the  way-side,  you  might  con- 
 jecture that  he  was  there  "  in  the  midst  of 
 them,"  opening'his  package  of  little  books, 
 and  deaUng  them  out  to  the  happy  little 
 throng.  We  all  felt  him  in  every  good 
 enterprise — in  the  social  prayer-circle,  in 
 the  Sabbath-school,  in  the  Church,  and 
 (quite  as  much  as  anywhere  else)  at  his 
 own  hearth-stone. 
 
 But  now  there  is  a  great  blank  in  our 
 social  gatherings,  in  our  evening  meetings, 
 in  everything.  We  wait  in  vain  for  his 
 beseeching  tremulous  voice,  that  well  we 
 knew  "sank  in  the  ear  of  Jesus."  The 
 teachers'  prayer-meeting  is  not  the  same 
 thing  that  it  once  was,  now  that  he  is  gone. 
 And  as  for  the  little  flock  of  cottagers  that 
 used  to  gather  in  to  the  Widow  M — ~-'s 
 Wednesday  evening  meeting,  they  are  left 
 as  sheep  without  a  shepherd.  The  good 
 old  mother  in  Israel  will  hear  no  longer  the 
 cheerful  salutation  that  was  wont  to  greet 
 her  as  his  slender  form  appeared  in  her 
 doorway,  sometimes  covered  with  snow, 
 sometimes  dripping  with  the  rain.  She 
 need  not  set  out  the  little  table  any 
 longer  with  its  white  napkin,  and  the  tat- 
 tered Bible  and  "Village  Hymns,"  upon 
 it.  "  Poor  Henry  !"  she  used  to  say,  as  he 
 closed  her  cottage  door,  "  I  fear  he  is  not 
 long  ibr  this  world ;  there  is  a  red  spot  on 
 bis  cheek  that  looks  like  consumption ;  he 
 is  ripening  fast  for  heaven." 
 
 It  was  but  a  little  time  since  a  long  pro- 
 cession wound  its  way,  with  many  a  weep- 
 ing eye,  out  of  the  village  churchyard. 
 That  grave,  beside  which  you  may  some- 
 times see  an  aged  woman  in  black  bending 
 at  the  hour  of  twilight,  is  his.  There  is  a 
 touching  pathos  in  the  date, — "aged  twenty- 
 four  years."  His  slight  form  and  boyish 
 expression  made  him  look  younger  than 
 that,  but  his  piety  had  the  ripe  maturity  of 
 threescore.  T.  Cuyler. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Almost. 
 
 What  matters  it  to  the  skilful  seaman 
 that,  with  helm  in  hand  and  eye  continu- 
 ally upon  sea  and  sky,  he  has  carried  his 
 well-trimmed  bark  over  many  a  league  of 
 ocean,  and  tilled  her  with  the  treasures  of 
 other  lands,  and  steered  her  through  many 
 a  rocky  channel,  and  carried  her  through 
 many  a  furious  gale,  if,  just  as  the  haven  is 
 in  sight,  the  tempest  takes  her  and  whelms 
 her  in  the  deep  ?  And  what  matters  it  if 
 we  be  almost,  if  we  be  not  altogether 
 Christians  ?  All  knowledge  might  be  ours, 
 so  tliat  all  mysteries  should  be  clear  to  usj 
 all  faith  might  be  ours,  so  that  we  could 
 rcinovc  mountains  ;  our  goods  we  might 
 give  to  feed  the  poor,  and  our  bodies  to  be 
 
 burned  for  Jesus'  sake  ;  yet  if  we  want  the 
 love  that  binds  everlastingly  to  Christ,  and 
 is  full  of  all  good  fruits,  we  are  nothing. 
 Our  last  climbing  footstep  we  might  plant 
 upon  the  very  threshold  of  heaven,  and 
 knocking  at  its  closed  gates,  we  might  be 
 able  to  say,  "  Lord,  Lord,  have  we  not  pro- 
 phesied in  Thy  name,  and  in  Thy  name  have 
 cast  out  devils,  and  in  Thy  name  done 
 many  wonderful  works  ?"  and  yet  from 
 within  the  holy  habitation  the  voice  might 
 co;ue,  "  I  never  knew  you,  depart  from  me 
 ye  that  work  iniquity."  Dr.  Hanna. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Armour  of  the. 
 
 "  Put  on,"  saith  the  Apostle,  to  the 
 Christian,  "  the  armour  of  light,"  in  oppo- 
 sition to  the  works  of  darkness,  which  he 
 had  mentionedimmediately before.  Strange 
 armour,  that  a  man  may  see  through !  A 
 good  man's  armour  is,  that  he  needs  none  ; 
 his  armour  is  an  open  breast ;  that  he  can 
 expose  himself;  is  fearless  of  any  harm. 
 "  Who  is  he  that  shall  harm  you,  if  ye  be 
 followers  of  that  which  is  good  ?" 
 
 John  Howe. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Badge  of  the. 
 
 The  badge  of  a  Christian  is  not  one 
 that  the  world  can  see.  One  has  for  his 
 badge  a  crosier,  another  has  a  crucifix,  ano- 
 ther has  a  tonsure,  another  has  a  robe  of 
 some  colour  or  shape;  but  a  Christian's 
 badge  is  not  a  tonsure,  nor  a  crucifix,  nor  a 
 crosier,  nor  a  shibboleth,  nor  a  robe,  nor  a 
 phylactery ;  but  it  is,  "  By  this  shall  all 
 men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye 
 love  one  another."  This  is  the  badge  of 
 the  Christian;  and  in  proportion  as  it 
 shows  itself  the  evidence  of  our  true  bro- 
 therhood comes  out.  Dr.  Cuviming. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Best. 
 
 He  is  the  best  speaker  of  the  English 
 tongue  who  speaks  it  so  that  we  cannot 
 discover  whether  he  was  born  in  London, 
 Edinburgh,  or  Dublin.  Every  city,  London, 
 Edinburgh,  and  Dublin,  has  its  own  pecu- 
 liarities, but  he  speaks  the  language  most 
 purely  who  speaks  in  such  a  way  that  no 
 man  can  say  of  what  city  he  is  a  native. 
 That  man  illustrates  Christianity  most 
 thoroughly  who  so  loves  it  and  lives  it 
 that  one  cannot  discover  whether  he  be  aa 
 Ej)iscopalian,  a  Presbyterian,  or  an  Inde- 
 pendent. Ibid. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Changes  of  the. 
 
 The  various  changes  through  which  the 
 Christian  passes  in  his  experience  are  not 
 to  be  attributed  to  God,  but  to  himself,  to 
 the  various  relations  in  which  he  stands  to 
 Him.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
 earth  and  sun  : — How  numerous  and  great 
 are  the  changes  of  earth — the  four  regular 
 changes,  and  changes  in  each  one  of  thtm ; 
 
CHRISTIAN. 
 
 145 
 
 but  these  changes  are  not  caused  by  the 
 varying  relations  and  operations  of  the 
 sun  in  regard  to  the  earth,  but  the  ever 
 varying  revohitions,  &c.,  of  the  earth  in 
 regard  to  the  sun.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— a  Church. 
 
 As  man  is  a  httle  world,  so  every 
 Christian  is  a  little  church  within  himself. 
 As  the  Church,  therefore,  is  sometimes  in 
 the  wane,  thi-ough  persecutions ;  other 
 times  in  her  full  glory  and  brightness ;  so 
 let  me  expect  myself  sometimes  drooping 
 under  temjitations,  and  sadly  hanging 
 down  the  head  for  the  want  of  the  feeling 
 of  God's  presence  ;  at  other  times  carried 
 with  the  full  sail  of  a  resolute  assurance  to 
 heaven,  knowing  that,  as  it  is  a  church 
 at  the  weakest  stay,  so  shall  I,  in  my 
 greatest  dejection,  hold  the  child  of  God. 
 
 Bp.  Rail. 
 CHRISTIAN— Clothing  of  the. 
 
 They  that  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  are 
 clothed  with  a  fourfold  garment — 1.  With 
 a  garment  of  Christ's  imputed  righteous- 
 ness. 2.  With  a  garment  of  sanctification. 
 3.  With  a  garment  of  protection.  4.  With 
 a  garment  of  glory.  The  first  garment 
 may  be  called  a  winter's  garment,  because 
 it  covers  us.  The  second,  a  summer's  gar- 
 ment, because  it  adorns  us,  The  third,  a 
 coat-armour,  because  it  keeps  us  safe.  The 
 fourth,  a  wedding  garment,  because  there 
 is  no  admission  to  the  supper  of  the  Lamb 
 without  it  The  first  three  may  be  called 
 our  work-day  suits,  because  we  must  put 
 them  on  all  "the  days  of  our  lives  ;  hut  the 
 fourth  our  holiday-suit,  because  we  must 
 not  put  it  on  till  the  week  of  our  pilgrimage 
 in  Baca  be  ended,  and  the  sabbath  of  our 
 eternal  rest  in  the  New  Jerusalem  begun. 
 
 Spencer. 
 CHRISTIAN— a  Conqueror. 
 
 When  I  would  picture  forth  a  noble 
 conqueror,  I  turn  from  even  the  brave 
 men  who,  with  grim  face  and  bayonets 
 fixed,  are  climbing  the  slope  slippery  with 
 blood,  and  raked  by  shell  and  shot,  that 
 leads  to  the  scarce  practicable  breach ; 
 and  of  whom  a  bare  renmant  will,  in  half 
 an  hour,  place  upon  the  ramparts  the 
 nnconquered  flag  that  all  the  world  knows 
 — I  turn  fi'om  even  them,  though  the 
 bravest  of  the  brave,  and  I  look  to  where 
 the  wisest  man  has  shown  us  something 
 more  heroic,  and  I  see  it  in  the  unsoured 
 spirit,  and  the  kindest  heart,  which  have 
 gone  through  many  a  care  and  disappoint- 
 ment, which  have  withstood  many  a  mor- 
 tification, and  only  been  made  the  sweeter 
 by  many  a  taking  down ;  as  I  remember 
 that  no  human  wisdom  dictated  the  text 
 and  Told  all  men  that  "better  is  he  that 
 ruleth  his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a 
 city."  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— A  Devout. 
 
 One  tiny  violet  growing  modestly  under 
 the  hedge-row  by  the  wayside  possesses 
 more  fragrance  and  loveliness  than  do  a 
 hundred  poppies  which  may  in  their  season 
 lift  their  heads  in  boldness  in  the  adjoining 
 field  ;  so  one  humble  and  devout  Christian 
 is  more  fragrant  and  lovely  to  heaven, 
 than  are  a  hundred  men  who  are  living  in 
 the  showy  vanities  of  sin.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Flourishing. 
 
 How  beautiful  is  the  language  of  the 
 Psalmist,  "  The  righteous  shall  flourish  like 
 the  palm  tree  ;  he  shall  grow  like  a  cedar 
 in  Lebanon.  Those  that  he.  planted  in  the 
 house  of  the  Lord  shall  flourish  in  the 
 courts  of  our  God.  They  shall  still  bring 
 forth  fruit  in  their  old  age ;  they  shall  be 
 fat  and  flourishing."  (Psal.  xcii,  12-14.)  The 
 palm  is  indigenous  to  tropical  and  other 
 warm  climates.  It  grows  to  a  considerable 
 height  and  size,  and  presents  a  beautiful 
 appearance.  Its  fruits,  which  are  called 
 dates,  are  much  valued,  and  are  eaten  both 
 fresh  and  preserved,  and  are  also  pressed 
 for  both  syrup  and  wine.  But  it  is  not 
 for  its  fruit  alone  that  the  palm  is  so  valu- 
 able. From  the  boughs,  which  are  yearly 
 lopped  off"  from  the  lower  parts  of  the  stem, 
 are  made  baskets,  bird-cages,  ropes,  and 
 sacks ;  from  the  leaves,  mattresses,  sandals, 
 &c.  It  is  an  evergreen,  and  lives  to  an  ex- 
 treme old  age ;  the  wood  is  durable  and 
 much  used.  How  striking  an  emblem  of  a 
 good  man — he  shall  flourish  lilce  the  palm 
 tree.  The  cedar  was  considered  by  the 
 Hebrews  as  the  monarch  of  the  vegetable 
 world,  on  account  of  its  magnitude,  majesty, 
 the  number  and  extent  of  its  boughs, 
 and  the  durability  of  its  wood,  which  was 
 so  remarkable  that  some  supposed  it  to  be 
 incorruptible.  Moreover,  everything  about 
 the  oriental  cedar  has  a  strong  balsamic 
 odour,  and  hence  the  whole  forest  is  so 
 perfumed  with  fragrance,  that  a  walk 
 through  it  is  delightful.  Mount  Lebanon 
 was  in  ancient  times  covered  with  forests  of 
 cedars,  of  which,  liowever,  few  only  now 
 remain.  Again  we  say  to  the  Christian, 
 Behold  your  emblem ;  "  He  shall  grow  like 
 a  cedar  in  Lebanon." 
 
 /,  A.  James. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Fruitfiilness  of  the. 
 
 The  Christian  is  compared  to  a  tree,  and 
 we  know  that  those  trees  flourish  most,  and 
 bear  the  sweetest  fruit,  which  stand  most 
 in  the  sun ;  the  lively  Christian  who  prays 
 much  stands  nigh  unto  God,  and  hath  God 
 nigh  unto  him;  you  may  therefore  expect 
 his  fruit  to  be  sweet  and  ripe,  while  others 
 who  stand  as  it  were  in  the  shade,  at  a 
 distance  from  God,  by  negL^ctins  pr.ijer, 
 10 
 
146 
 
 CHRISTIAN. 
 
 will  have    little    fruit    formed    on    their 
 branches,  and  that  but  green  and  sour. 
 
 Ournall. 
 CHRISTIAN— Glory  of  the. 
 
 The  Christian  does  not  pray  to  be  de- 
 livered from  glory,  but  from  vain  glory. 
 He  also  is  ambitious  of  glory,  and  a  candi- 
 date for  honour  ;  but  glory  in  whose  esti- 
 mation ?  honour  in  whose  judgment  ?  Not 
 of  those  whose  censures  can  take  nothing 
 from  his  innocence ;  whose  approbation  can 
 take  nothing  from  his  guilt;  whose 
 opinions  are  as  fickle  as  their  actions, 
 and  their  lives  as  transitory  as  their  praise ; 
 who  cannot  search  his  heart,  seeing  that 
 they  are  ignorant  even  of  their  own.  The 
 Christian  then  seeks  his  glory  in  the  esti- 
 mation, and  his  honour,  in  the  judgment  of 
 Him  alone,  Who 
 
 "From  the  bright  Empyrean   where  He 
 
 sits 
 High  throned  above  all  height,  casts  down 
 
 His  eye, 
 His  own  works,  and  man's  works,  at  once 
 
 to  view."  C.  Colton. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Graces  in  the. 
 
 The  mainspring  is  not  the  watch,  the 
 balance-wheel  is  not  the  watch,  the  pointers 
 are  not  the  watch,  the  dial-plate  is  not  the 
 watch, — no  one  separate  article  constitutes 
 the  watch,  but  all  combined  in  active  har- 
 mony. So  in  the  Christian,  no  one  grace, 
 but  all  Christian  graces  in  combination, 
 constitute  and  evidence  the  Christian  life. 
 R.  B.  Nichol. 
 CHRISTIAN— Guides  of  the. 
 
 A  Christian  in  all  his  ways  must  have 
 three  guides :  Trnth,  Charity,  Wisdom. 
 Trutli  to  go  before  him.  Charity  and  Wis- 
 dom on  eitiher  hand.  If  any  of  the  three  be 
 absent,  he  walks  amiss.  I  have  seen  ,.ome  do 
 hurt  by  following  a  truth  uncharitably.  And 
 others,  while  they  would  salve  up  an  error 
 with  love,  have  failed  in  their  wisdom,  and 
 offended  against  justice.  A  clsaritable  un- 
 truth, and  an  uncharitable  truth,  and  an 
 unwise  managing  of  truth  or  love,  are  all 
 to  be  carefully  avoided  of  him  that  would 
 go  with  a  right  foot  in  the  narrow  way. 
 
 Bp.  Sail. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Happiness  of  the. 
 
 There  is  no  man  so  happy  as  the  Chris- 
 tian. When  he  looks  up  unto  heaven 
 he  thinks,  that  is  my  home  ;  the  God  that 
 made  it  and  owns  it,  is  my  Father;  the 
 Angels,  more  glorious  in  nature  than  myself, 
 are  my  attendants ;  mine  enemies  are  my 
 vassals;  yea,  those  things  which  are  the 
 terriblest  of  all  to  the  wicked  are  most 
 pleasant  to  him.  When  he  hears  God 
 thunder  above  his  head,  he  thinks,  this  is 
 the  voice  of  my  Father.     When  he  remem- 
 
 bereth  the  tribunal  of  the  last  judgment, 
 he  thinks,  it  is  my  Saviour  that  sits  in  it ; 
 when  death,  he  esteems  it  but  ixs  the  angel 
 set  before  Paradise,  which,  with  one  blow, 
 admits  hiin  to  eternal  joy.  And  (which 
 is  most  of  all)  nothing  in  earth  or  hell  can 
 make  him  miserable.  There  is  nothing  in 
 the  world  worth  envying,  but  a  Christian. 
 Bp.  Sail. 
 
 A  good  Christian  does  not  only  court  his 
 happiness,  and  cast  now  and  then  a  smile 
 upon  it,  or  satisfy  himself  merely  to  be 
 contracted  to  it;  but,  with  the  greatest 
 ardours  of  love  and  desire,  he  pursues  the 
 solemnity  of  the  just  nuptials,  that  he  may 
 be  wedded  to  it,  and  made  one  with  it. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Knowledge  of  the. 
 
 As  Adam's  knowledge  was  perfect,  so 
 long  as  his  righteousness  was  untainted; 
 so,  the  nearer  we  come  to  that  righteousness 
 again,  the  more  things  come  to  our  know- 
 ledge, according  to  that  (Prov.  xxviii), 
 "  They  that  seek  the  Lord,  understand  all 
 things."  Such  a  heart  God  hath  given  to 
 His  servants,  like  a  touchstone,  or  a  lamp 
 to  go  before  them,  to  examine  all  things, 
 as  they  go  in  this  dark  wilderness,  lest  they 
 should  take  error  for  truth,  evil  for  good, 
 or  their  own  will  for  the  will  of  God  ;  that 
 they  which  hate  evil  might  be  preserved 
 from  evil,  as  David  was  from  the  blood  of 
 Nabal.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Legacy  of  the. 
 
 A  pious  old  man  was  one  day  walking  to 
 the  sanctuary,  with  a  New  Testament  in 
 his  hand,  when  a  friend  who  met  him 
 said : 
 
 "  Good  morning,  Mr.  Price  !" 
 
 "  Ah,  good  morning,"  replied  he  ;  "  I  ara 
 reading  MY  Father's  will  as  I  walk 
 along !" 
 
 "  Well,  what  has  He  left  you  ?  "  said  his 
 friend. 
 
 "  Why,  He  has  bequeathed  me  a  hundred- 
 fold more  in  this  life,  and  in  the  world  to 
 come  life  everlasting." 
 
 This  beautiful  reply  was  the  means  of 
 comforting  bis  Christian  friend,  who  was  at 
 the  time  in  sorrowful  circumstances. 
 
 Anon, 
 CHRISTIAN— Light  of  the. 
 
 It  must  not  be  a  feverish  gleam,  nor  a 
 meteor  of  the  marsh,  nor  a  revolving  lan- 
 tern, emitting  an  occasional  or  periodical 
 radiance,  but  a  light,  calm,  uniform,  steady, 
 shining  alike  in  the  calm  as  in  the  storm. 
 Its  emblem,  if  emblem  it  must  have,  should 
 be  the  light  on  the  cliif;  the  startled  waves 
 rush  over  it,  the  storm  smites  it,  the  rain 
 beats  against  it,  and  heavily  against  it  roils 
 the  broad  shoulders  of  the  hm-ricane;  but. 
 
CHRISTIAN. 
 
 147 
 
 steadfast,  serene,  immutable,  the  same  year 
 after  year,  through  all,  the  silent  light 
 burns  ou ;  for  evermore  that  quenchless 
 flame  shiues — that  inextinguishable  light. 
 "  Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that 
 they  may  see  your  good  works,  and  glorify 
 your  Father  which  is  in  heaven," 
 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 Light  is  derived,  and  therefore  humble. 
 God  is  the  great  original  of  light.  There 
 was  a  time  when  it  was  not;  when  this 
 world  was  a  nameless  and  uniinished 
 chaos,  and  darkness  brooded  over  the  face 
 of  the  deep.  Light  was  the  first-born  of 
 creation.  "God  said,  Let  there  be  light 
 and  there  was  light."  All  the  forms 
 and  modifications  of  light  may  be  traced  up 
 to  this  act  of  the  great  Creator,  who  made 
 two  great  lights ;  the  greater  light  to  rule 
 the  day,  and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the 
 night.  From  the  fount  of  the  sun  all  the 
 streams  of  light  are  flowing.  Light  is  pre- 
 sented to  us  in  ever-varying  conditions,  but 
 it  is  always  the  same ;  there  is  a  oneness  in 
 its  essence  after  all.  It  is  the  same  light 
 that  glistens  on  the  wings  of  the  fire-fly 
 and  blazes  on  the  ruddy  hearth-stone,  and 
 sparkles  on  the  jewels  in  the  diadem,  and 
 flashes  in  beauty  in  the  morning.  Science 
 tells  us  that  those  prolific  beds  of  coal  in 
 the  bowels  of  the  earth  were  once  forests 
 on  its  surface,  forests  of  luxuriant  vegeta- 
 tion ;  that  they  incorporated  the  sun's  rays, 
 and  then,  in  merciful  convulsions  were 
 imbedded  in  the  centre  of  the  lower  earth 
 by  an  all-provident  foresight  for  the  wants 
 of  an  inhabited  world.  Science  tells  us, 
 too,  that  time  was  when  the  shapeless  crys- 
 tal was  yet  new  to  its  covering  of  earth. 
 Subjected  to  the  wheel  of  the  lapidary,  it 
 sparkles  out  to  view  as  a  gem  of  the  purest 
 water.  It  is  but  the  release  of  imprisoned 
 rays,  which  shone  from  the  same  great 
 source  long  centuries  ago;  so  that  both  in 
 the  cottage  tire-light,  and  in  the  monarch's 
 gem  v.e  have  just  the  resurrection  of 
 some  olden  summer,  the  great  return  of 
 some  sepulchral  sunlight  from  which  man 
 has  rolled  away  the  stone. 
 
 Now,  whether  this  scientific  theory  be 
 true  or  not,  certain  it  is  that,  in  our 
 spiritual  condition,  we  are  in  darkness,  all 
 of  us,  gross  and  utter,  until  the  true  light 
 shineth  on  us  from  on  high.  We  have  no 
 native  light  above  us ;  we  cannot  gather 
 any  from  any  of  the  sources  by  which 
 we  are  surrounded.  "Every  good  and 
 perfect  gift  cometh  down  from  above, 
 from  the  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  there 
 is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of 
 turning."  Ibid. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Masters  of  the. 
 
 There  is  none  like  to  Luther's  three 
 masters,  Prayer,  Temptation,  Meditation. 
 
 Temptation  stirs  up  holy  meditation; 
 Meditation  prepares  to  prayer  ;  and  Prayer 
 makes  profit  of  temptation,  and  fetcheth  all 
 divine  knowledge  from  heaven.  Of  others 
 I  may  learn  the  theory  of  divinity,  of  tliese 
 only,  the  practice.  Other  masters  teach 
 me  by  rote,  to  speak  parrot-like  of  heavenly 
 things ;  these  alone,  with  feeling  and  un- 
 derstanding. £p.  Sail. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— a  Pilgrim. 
 
 Give  me  my  scallop  shell  of  quiet. 
 My  staft'  of  truth  to  walk  upon, 
 My  scrip  of  joy — immortal  diet. 
 My  bottle  of  salvation ; 
 My  gown  of  glory,  hope's  true  gage ; 
 And  thus  I'll  take  my  pilgrimage — 
 While  my  soul,  like  a  quiet  Palmer, 
 Travelleth  towards  the  land  of  Heaven. 
 
 Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— in  Prayer. 
 
 When  thou  standest  before  His  gate, 
 knock  loudly  and  boldly,  not  as  a  beggar 
 knocks,  but  as  one  who  belongs  to  tht! 
 house ;  not  as  a  vagabond,  who  is  afraid  of 
 the  police,  but  as  a  friend  and  an  intimate 
 acquaintance;  not  as  one  who  is  apprehen- 
 sive of  being  troublesome,  or  of  coming  at 
 an  improper  time,  but  of  a  guest  who  may 
 rest  assured  of  a  hearty  welcome. 
 
 Br.  F.  W.  KrummacJier. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Pruned. 
 
 In  the  case  of  fruit-trees  pruning  is  often 
 necessary  in  order  to  make  them  bear  fruit 
 well.  Too  luxuriant  branches  are  thus 
 taken  away,  and  the  sap  is  directed  to  the 
 flowers  and  fruit.  There  seems  to  be  an 
 allusion  to  this  in  the  expression  of  our 
 Lo'-d,  "  Every  branch  that  beareth  fruit. 
 He  purgeth  it  that  it  may  bring  forth 
 more  fruit."  Too  often  ttie  believer 
 becomes  as  it  were  rampant,  is  elated  by 
 worldly  fame  and  reputation,  or  by  the 
 praise  of  men,  and  like  the  ordinary  vine, 
 produces  abundance  of  leaves  but  a  small 
 amount  of  fi-uit.  He  then  requires  to  be 
 pruned,  to  be  put  into  the  furnace  of  afflic- 
 tion, to  have  the  worldly  things,  or  the 
 spiritual  acquirements  in  which  he  trusted, 
 lopped  oft",  so  that  being  thus  purged  he 
 may  fructify  abundantly.  The  removal  ol 
 comforts,  the  humbling  of  pride  and  self- 
 complacency,  all  tend  to  make  the  fruit 
 more  precious.  They  constitute  the  spiritual 
 pruning,  the  chastening  which  yiekleth  the 
 peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness. 
 
 J.  H.  Balfour. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Relations  of  the. 
 
 The  moment  a  man's  heart  touches  the 
 heart  of  Christ  in  living  faith,  he  becomes, 
 whether  he  knows  it  or  not,  the  brother  of 
 every  other,  in  heaven  or  on  earth,  who 
 has  come  into  the  same  relationship  with 
 
148 
 
 CHRISTIAN. 
 
 Chvist.  Whoever  is  united  to  Christ,  is 
 brother  or  sister  to  everybody  else  that  is 
 united  to  Him.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CERISTIAN— Rewarded. 
 
 When  a  noble  soldier  in  a  foreign  land 
 hath  achieved  brave  designs,  won  honora- 
 ble victories,  subdued  dangerous  adversaries, 
 and  with  worthy  chivalry  renowned  his  king 
 and  country,  home  he  conies ;  the  king 
 sends  for  him  to  court,  and  there,  in  open 
 audience  of  his  noble  courtiers,  gives  him 
 words  of  grace,  commendeth  and  (which  is 
 rarely  more)  rewardeth  his  valour,  heaps 
 his  dignities,  preferments,  and  places  of 
 honour  on  him.  So  shall  Christ  at  the  last 
 day,  to  all  those  soldiers  that  have  valiantly 
 combated  and  conquered  His  enemies,  in 
 the  sight  of  heaven  and  earth,  audience  of 
 men  and  angels,  give  victorious  wreaths, 
 crowns,  and  garlands,  "  long  white  robes," 
 to  witness  their  innocency,  and  palms  in 
 their  hands  to  express  their  victory,  and 
 finally  He  will  give  them  a  glorious  king- 
 dom to  enjoy  for  ever  and  ever. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 History  informs  us  of  an  old  Roman  sol- 
 dier who  served  forty  years  in  the  cause  of 
 his  country  ;  ten  as  a  private,  and  tliirty  as 
 an  officer.  He  had  been  present  in  one 
 hundred  and  twenty  battles,  and  had  forty- 
 five  times  been  severely  wounded.  He  had 
 obtained  fourteen  civic  crowns  for  having 
 saved  the  life  of  a  Roman  citizen,  three 
 mural  crowns  for  having  been  the  first  to 
 mount  the  breach,  and  eight  golden  crowns 
 for  having  rescued  the  standard  of  a  Roman 
 legion  from  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  He 
 had  in  his  house  eighty-three  gold  chains, 
 sixty  bracelets,  eighteen  golden  spears,  and 
 twenty-three  horse  trappings,  the  spoil  of 
 war.  Let  the  Christian  be  equally  faithful 
 to  his  Saviour,  and  the  glory  and  value  of 
 his  reward  shall  far  exceed  that  of  this  old 
 Roman  soldier.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Safety  of  the. 
 
 A  I5ritisli  subject  may  be  safe  although 
 surrounded  by  enemies  in  a  distant  land — 
 not  that  he  has  strength  to  contend  alone 
 against  armed  thousands,  but  because  he  is 
 a  subject  of  our  queen.  A  despot  on  his 
 throne,  a  horde  of  savages  in  their  desert, 
 have  permitted  a  helpless  traveller  to  pass 
 unharmed,  like  a  lamb  among  lions,  al- 
 though, like  lions  looking  on  a  lamb,  they 
 thirsted  for  his  blood,  because  they  knew 
 his  sovereign's  watchfulness,  and  feared  his 
 sovereign's  power.  The  feeble  stranger 
 has  a  charmed  life  in  the  midst  of  his  ene- 
 mies, because  a  royal  arm  unseen  encom- 
 passes him  as  with  a  shield.  The  power  thus 
 wielded  by  an  earthly  throne  may  suggest 
 and  symbolise  the  perfect  protection  of 
 Omnipotence.     A   IJritish   subject's  confi- 
 
 dence in  his  queen  may  rebuke  the  feeble 
 faith  of  a  Christian,  "  O  thou  of  little  faith, 
 wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  ?" 
 
 Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Secure. 
 
 Socrates,  when  unrighteously  persecuted 
 to  death,  said  of  his  enemies,  with  courage 
 becoming  the  heart  of  a  Christian,  "  They 
 may  kill  me,  but  they  cannot  hurt  me." 
 So  a  Christian  may  truly  say  ;  for  nothing 
 can  eventually  injure  him;  for  his  life  is 
 hid  with  Christ  in  God.  C.  Buck. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Self-forgetfalness  of  the. 
 
 The  eye,  the  noblest  member  of  the 
 human  body,  does  not  see  itself :  and  piety 
 and  godliness  resemble  it,  in  being  desti- 
 tute of  self-consciousness.  Believers  do 
 not  believe  that  they  believe  (with  feeling 
 of  vanity).  The  humble  are  ignorant  of 
 their  own  humility.  The  best  and  most 
 devout  suppliants  have  their  minds  so  full 
 of  God,  that  they  are  not  aware,  and  never 
 think  of  the  fervour  of  their  prayers.  The 
 kindest  benefactors  have  no  recollection  of 
 the  good  they  do,  and  are  surprised  when 
 men  thank  them  for  it.  The  pious  fancy 
 that  they  have  no  piety,  and  are  always 
 fighting,  striving,  and  exercising  themselves 
 to  attain  it,  in  which,  indeed,  growth  in 
 godliness  consists.  Goithold. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— A  Sincere. 
 
 A  sincere  Christian  is  like  a  massive 
 vessel  of  gold,  that  keeps  its  own  shape 
 and  figure  at  all  times,  in  all  places,  and  in 
 all  companies.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— An  Unsound. 
 
 An  unsound  Christian,  like  green  tim- 
 ber, shrinks  when  the  sun  of  persecution 
 shines  hot  upon  it.  The  heat  of  fiery 
 trials  cools  the  courage  of  an  unsound 
 Christian.  If  you  put  water  into  a  tub,  it 
 will  have  the  shape  of  the  tub  that  you  put 
 it  into ;  or  if  you  put  water  into  a  glass,  it 
 will  have  the  shape  of  the  glass  you  put  it 
 into.  This  is  the  very  picture  of  an  un- 
 sound heart.  He  will  be  righteous  among 
 the  righteous,  and  licentious  among  the 
 licentious ;  he  will  be  as  the  company 
 is  among  which  he  is  cast ;  with  the  good 
 he  will  be  good,  and  with  the  bad  he  will 
 be  bad  ;  he  is  like  Alcibiades,  of  whom  it 
 was  said,  that  he  was  a  man  for  all  times ; 
 for  he  could  swagger  at  Athens,  and  take 
 any  pains  at  Thebes ;  he  could  live  most 
 sparingly  at  Lacedajmon,  and  bib  auKmg 
 the  Tliracians,  and  hunt  among  the  Per- 
 sians. Like  the  chameleon,  the  unsound 
 Christian  is  ready  to  change  his  hue  with 
 every  one  he  converses  with,  and  like  tlie 
 Polj/pun  that  resembleth  every  stone  that 
 it  sticketh  to.  T.  Brooks. 
 
CHRISTIAN. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— in  the  -World.  ] 
 
 As  the  mother  pearl  fish  lives  in  the 
 sea  without  receiving  a  drop  of  salt  water ; 
 and  as,  toward  the  Chelidonian  Islands, 
 springs  of  fresh  water  may  be  found  in  the 
 midst  of  the  sea;  and  as  the  fire-fly  passes 
 through  the  flames  without  burning  its 
 wings,  so  a  vigorous  and  resolute  soul  may 
 live  iu  the  world  without  being  infected 
 with  any  of  its  humours,  may  discover 
 sweet  springs  of  piety  amidst  its  salt 
 waters,  and  fly  among  the  flames  of  earthly 
 concupiscence  without  burning  the  wings 
 of  the  holy  desires  of  a  devout  life. 
 
 Francis  de  Sales. 
 
 They  who  have  been  convinced  of  the 
 sin  of  unbelief,  of  that  sin  whereby  their 
 hearts  were  estranged  from  God  and  given 
 up  to  the  service  of  this  world,  and  who 
 have  also  been  convinced  of  Christ's  right- 
 eousness, have  discerned  its  surpassing 
 glory  and  beauty,  and  have  felt  the  un- 
 speakable blessedness  of  being  received  into 
 a  participation  of  that  righteousness,  and 
 thereby  restored  to  a  communion  with  God 
 — all  they  in  whom  these  two  great  works 
 have  accomplished,  feel  that  they  have 
 indeed  come  forth  from  the  rich,  luxurious 
 land  of  Egypt,  that  the  fashion  of  the 
 country  around  them  is  wholly  changed, 
 and  that,  except  for  the  visitations  of  God's 
 grace,  with  which  their  passage  through  it 
 may  be  brightened,  it  is  no  better  than  a 
 wilderness  in  comparison  with  the  land 
 flowing  with  milk  and  honey  toward  which 
 they  are  journeying.  They  no  more  think 
 of  fixing  their  home  where  they  are  than  a 
 ship  thinks  of  mooring  in  the  middle  of 
 the  homeless  Atlantic.  Their  eyes  are 
 always  gazing  onward  and  forward,  nor 
 ■would  they  turn  back  nor  look  round  but 
 for  the  pleasure  and  refreshment  they  find 
 in  cheering,  and  helping,  and  strengthen- 
 ing their  fellow-pilgrims  on  the  way. 
 
 Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 An  established,  experienced,  hopeful 
 Christian  is,  in  the  world,  like  an  iceberg 
 in  a  swelling  sea.  The  waves  rise  and  fall. 
 Ships  strain,  and  shiver,  and  nod  on  the 
 agitated  waters.  liut  the  iceberg  may  be 
 seen  from  far  receiving  the  breakers  on 
 its  snow-white  sides,  casting  them  off  un- 
 moved, and,  where  all  else  is  rocking  to 
 and  fro,  standing  stable  like  the  everlast- 
 ing hills.  The  cause  of  its  steadiness  is  its 
 depth.  Its  bulk  is  bedded  in  calm  water 
 beneath  the  tumult  that  rages  on  the  sur- 
 face. Although,  like  the  ships,  it  is  float- 
 ing in  the  water,  it  receives  and  throws  off 
 the  angry  waves,  like  the  rocks  that  gird 
 the  shore. 
 
 Behold  the   condition  and   attitude   of 
 
 Christians.  They  float  in  the  same  sea  of 
 life  with  other  men,  and  bear  the  snme 
 buftetingsj  but  they  are  not  driven  hither 
 and  thither,  the  sport  of  wind  and  wat.^r. 
 The  wave  strikes  them,  breaks  over  them, 
 and  hisses  past  in  foam  ;  but  they  remain 
 unmoved.  They  were  not  caught  by  sur- 
 prise, while  they  had  a  slight  hold  of  tlie 
 surface.  The  chief  part  of  their  being  lies 
 deep  beyond  the  reach  of  these  superficial 
 commotions.  Their  life,  "  hid  with  Christ 
 in  God,"  bears,  without  breaking,  all  tlie 
 strain  of  the  storm.  Dr.  Amot. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— ■Worldly. 
 
 Lot  chose  wisely,  as  they  of  the  world 
 speak.  Well,  if  this  world  be  all :  he  got 
 a  rich  soil — became  a  prince,  had  kings 
 for  his  society  and  neighbours.  It  was 
 nothing  to  Lot  that  "  the  men  of  the  land 
 were  sinners  before  the  Lord  exceedingly" 
 — enough  that  it  was  well  watered  every- 
 where. But  his  wife  became  enervated  by 
 voluptuousness,  and  his  (children  tainted 
 with  ineradicable  corruption — the  moral 
 miasma  of  the  society  wherein  he  had 
 made  his  home.  Two  warnings  God  gave 
 him : — first,  his  home  and  property  were 
 spoiled  by  the  enemy ;  then  came  the  fire 
 from  heaven ;  and  he  fled  from  the  cities 
 of  the  plain  a  ruined  man.  His  wife 
 looked  back  with  lingering  regret  upon 
 the  sjilendid  home  of  her  luxury  and  vo- 
 luptuousness, and  was  overwhelmed  in  the 
 encrusting  salt;  his  children  carried  with 
 them  into  a  new  world  the  plague-spot  of 
 that  profligacy  which  had  been  the  child 
 of  affluence  and  idleness  ;  and  the  spirit  of 
 that  rain  of  fire — of  the  buried  cities  of 
 the  Plain — rose  again  in  -the  darkest  of 
 the  crimes  which  the  Old  Testament  re- 
 cords, to  poison  the  new  society  at  its 
 very  fountain.  And  so  the  old  man  stood 
 at  last  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  a  black- 
 ened ruin  scathed  by  lightning,  over  the 
 grave  of  his  wife,  and  the  shame  of  his 
 family — saved,  but  only  "  so  as  by  fire." 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 For  everywhere  he  is  a  Judas,  with  whom 
 his  worldly  interests,  his  worldly  ambition 
 prevail  over  his  attachment  to  Christ  and 
 to  Christ's  cause ;  who  joins  the  Christian 
 society,  it  may  not  be  to  make  gain  there- 
 by,— but  who,  when  the  occasion  presents 
 itself,  scruples  not  to  make  what  gain  he 
 can  of  tliat  connection;  who,  beneath  the 
 garb  of  the  Christian  calling,  pursues  a 
 dishonest  traffic;  who,  when  the  gain  and 
 the  godliness  come  into  collision,  sacrifices 
 the  godliness  for  the  gain.         Dr.  Hanna. 
 
 CHRISTIAN— Trial  of  the  'Worldly. 
 
 It  is  a  painful  work,  that  weeding  work. 
 "  Every  branch  in  me  that  beareth  fruit, 
 
150 
 
 CHRISTIAN. 
 
 He  purgeth  it,  that  it  may  brinsr  forth  more 
 fruit."  The  keen  edge  of  God's  pruning- 
 knife  cuts  sheer  through.  No  weak  tender- 
 ness stops  Him  whose  love  seeks  Goodness, 
 not  Comfort,  for  His  servants.  A  man's 
 distractions  are  in  his  wealth — and  perhaps 
 fire  or  failure  make  him  bankrupt;  what 
 he  feels  is  God's  sharp  knife.  Pleasure  has 
 dissipated  his  heart,  and  a  stricken  frame 
 forliids  his  enjoying  pleasure — shattered 
 nerves  and  broken  health  wear  out  the  life 
 of  Life.  Or  perhaps  it  comes  in  a  sharper, 
 sadder  form  :  the  shaft  of  death  goes  home 
 — there  is  heard  the  wail  of  danger  in  his 
 household.  And  then  when  sickness  has 
 passed  on  to  hopelessness,  and  hopelessness 
 has  passed  on  to  death,  the  crushed  man  goes 
 into  the  chamber  of  the  dead;  and  there, 
 when  he  shuts  down  the  lid  upon  the  coffin 
 of  his  wife,  or  the  coffin  of  his  child,  his 
 heart  begins  to  tell  him  the  meaning  of 
 all  this.  Thorns  had  been  growing  in  his 
 heart,  and  the  sharp  knife  has  been  at 
 work  making  room — but  by  an  awful  deso- 
 lation— tearing  up  and  cutting  down,  that 
 the  Life  of  God  in  the  soul  may  not  be 
 choked.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 CHSISTIAN  CHARACTER. 
 
 Christian  character  can  never  be  scrip- 
 tur;il  or  according  to  the  Scripture  ideal, 
 which  is  only  an  inventory  of  negatives. 
 There  is,  in  Christian  character,  much  that 
 is  negative.  Unquestionably,  "  Thou  shalt 
 not"  constitutes  a  very  large  part  of  the 
 Christian  teaching,  but  "  Thou  shalt "  a 
 much  larger  part.  It  is  very  important 
 that  a  man  should  not  swear  ;  that  he 
 should  not  lie  ;  that  he  should  not  gamble ; 
 that  he  should  not  steal;  that  he  should 
 not  drink  to  intoxication  ;  and  that  he 
 should  not  eat  to  gluttony.  We  are  to 
 build  these  negatives  along  evil  ways,  like 
 fences  along  precipices.  And  I  do  not 
 ridicule  nor  dissuade  fi'ora  negatives.  But 
 some  seem  to  abide  in  them,  and  to  think 
 that  they  have  met  the  requirements  of 
 religion  when  they  have  withheld  them- 
 selves from  positive  wrongs ;  whereas  we 
 aru  to  develop  the  actual  graces.  There  is 
 to  be  a  forthputting  in  things  that  are  right. 
 
 It  is  not  good  husbandry  that  keeps  tlie 
 plough  going  so  that  no  weeds  can  grow, 
 nor  anything  else.  Good  husbandry  keeps 
 down  tlie  weeds,  to  be  sure,  but  does  it  for 
 the  sake  of  letting  corn  grow.  And  there 
 must  be  a  positive  crop  developed  of  virtue 
 before  all  the  conditions  of  religion  are  ful- 
 fiikd.  No  man  can  have  a  manly  Christian 
 character  who  is  merely  reserved,  restric- 
 tive, conservative  ;  who,  avoids  evil,  but 
 does  not  produce  much  positive  good. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CI-miSTIAN  GENTLEMAN,  A. 
 
 He  is  above  a  mean  thing.     He  cannot 
 
 stoop  to  a  mean  fraud.  He  invades  nv 
 secrets  in  the  keeping  of  another.  He 
 betrays  no  secret  confided  to  his  own  keep- 
 ing. He  never  struts  in  borrowed  plumage. 
 He  takes  selfish  advantage  of  no  man's  mis- 
 take. He  uses  no  ignoble  weapons  in  con- 
 troversy. He  never  stabs  in  the  dark.  He 
 is  ashamed  of  inueudos.  He  is  not  one  thing 
 to  a  man's  face  and  another  behind  his  back. 
 If  by  accident  he  comes  into  possession  of 
 his  neighbour's  counsels,  he  passes  upon 
 them  an  act  of  instant  oblivion.  He  bears 
 sealed  packages  without  tampering  with 
 the  wax.  Papers  not  meant  for  his  eye, 
 whether  they  flutter  in  at  his  window,  or 
 lie  open  before  him  in  unguarded  exposure, 
 are  sacred  to  him.  He  professes  no  privacy 
 of  others,  however  the  sentry  sleeps.  Bolts 
 and  bars,  locks  and  keys,  hedges  and  pickets, 
 bonds  and  securities,  notices  to  trespassers, 
 are  none  of  them  for  him.  He  may  be 
 trusted — himself  out  of  sight — near  the 
 thinnest  partition,  anywhere.  He  buys  no 
 office,  he  sells  none,  he  intrigues  for  none. 
 He  would  rather  fail  of  his  rights  than 
 win  them  through  dishonour.  He  will  eat 
 honest  bread.  He  tramples  on  no  sensi- 
 tive feeling.  He  insults  no  man.  If  he 
 have  rebuke  for  another,  he  is  straight- 
 forward, open,  and  manly.  He  cannot 
 descend  to  scurrility.  From  all  profane 
 aud  wanton  words  his  lips  are  chastened. 
 In  short,  whatever  he  judges  honorable, 
 he  practises  toward  every  man.  Anon. 
 
 CHRISTIAN  LIFE -The. 
 
 Ordinarily  rivers  run  small  at  the  begin- 
 ning, grow  broader  and  broader  as  they 
 proceed,  and  become  widest  and  deepest  at 
 the  point  where  they  enter  the  sea.  It  is 
 such  rivers  that  the  Christian's  life  is  like. 
 But  the  life  of  the  mere  worldly  man  is 
 like  those  rivers  in  Southern  Africa,  which, 
 proceeding  from  mountain  freshets,  are 
 broad  and  deep  at  the  beginning,  and  grow 
 narrower  and  more  shallow  as  they  ad- 
 vance. They  waste  themselves  by  soaking 
 into  the  sands,  and  at  last  they  die  out 
 entirely.  The  further  they  run,  the  less 
 there  is  of  them.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 Some  think  that  a  Christian  life  is  like 
 a  canal,  with  proper  locks  to  lift  men  up 
 and  drop  them  down  as  occasion  requires. 
 There  may  be  a  sluggish,  lazy  life  of  that 
 kind,  but  there  is  no  such  Christian  life. 
 No  man  can  live  a  Christian  life  that  does 
 not  avail  himself  of  all  the  power  given 
 him  on  every  side.  There  is  work  for  the 
 thought,  work  for  the  imagination,  work 
 for  every  moral  sentiment,  work  for  every 
 affection,  work  for  all  the  combinations  of 
 the  faculties,  in  their  different  moods,  and 
 through  all  the  varying  periods  of  life, — 
 youth,  middle  age,  and  old  age;  and  if  a 
 man  would  be  a  Christian,  a  child  of  the 
 
CHRISTIAN— CHRISTIANS. 
 
 151 
 
 all-working',  unslnmhering  God,  he  must 
 be  awake  and  vigilant.        S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHRISTIAN  and  TIME. 
 Meeting  with  Time,  "  Slack  thing,"  said  I, 
 "  Thy  scythe  is  dull ;  whet  it,  for  shame." 
 "  No  marvel,  sir,"  he  did  reply, 
 
 "  If  it  at  length  deserve  some  blame. 
 But,  wliere  one  man  would  have  me 
 
 grind  it. 
 Twenty  for  one  too  sharp  do  find  it." 
 
 "  Perhaps  some  such  of  old  did  pass. 
 
 Who  above  all  things  lov'd  this  life  ; 
 To  whom  thy  S(!ythe  a  hatchet  was, 
 Which  now  is  but  a  pruning  knife. 
 Christ's  coming  hath  made  man  thy 
 
 debtor, 
 Since,  by  thy  cutting,  he  grows  better. 
 
 "  And  in  His  blessing  thou  art  blest. 
 For,  where  thou  only  wert  before 
 An  executioner  at  best, 
 
 Thou  art  a  gard'ner  now ;  and,  more, 
 An  usher,  to  convey  our  souls 
 Beyond  the  utmost  stars  and  poles. 
 
 "  And  this  is  that  makes  life  so  long, 
 W^hile  it  detains  us  from  our  God. 
 Ev'n  pleasures  here  increase  the  wrong, 
 And  length  of  days  lengthen  the  rod  ; 
 Who  wants  the  place  where  God  doth 
 
 dwell. 
 Partakes  already  half  of  hell. 
 
 "Of  what  strange  length  must  that  need  be, 
 
 Wliich  ev'n  eternity  excludes!" 
 Thus  far  Time  heard  me  patiently; 
 
 Then,  chafing,  said,  "  This  man  deludes ! 
 What  do  1  here  before  his  door? 
 He  doth  not  crave  less  time,  but  more." 
 George  Herbert. 
 
 CHRISTIANS-Character  of. 
 
 The  character  of  Christians  must  corre- 
 spond fully  with  the  attributes  of  the  Holy 
 Spirit.  They  must  yield  to  every  impres- 
 sion of  the  seal  of  the  Spirit,  and  conform 
 to  the  entire  mould  of  Divine  influences. 
 Christians  !  let  there  be  an  expression  of 
 grace  in  you  for  every  grace  in  the  Holy 
 Spirit.  Is  the  Spirit  tire  ?  kindle  like  a 
 seraph  in  your  religion.  Is  the  Spirit  a 
 well  of  water  ?  let  all  the  rills  of  thought, 
 currents  of  emotion,  and  streams  of  life, 
 flow  in  usefulness,  and  for  the  irrigation  of 
 the  arid  waste.  Is  the  Spirit  a  shower? 
 let  your  vineyard  be  as  a  well-watered 
 garden,  fruitful  in  all  that  is  lovely 
 and  of  sweet  odour.  Is  the  Sjnrit  wind  ? 
 let  the  whole  forest  of  your  aflections  and 
 passions  wave  before  the  gale.  Is  the 
 S]>irit  a  dove  ?  let  your  breast  be  harmless 
 anl  placid,  as  the  lake  wliere  the  halcyon 
 bui'ds  its  nest  and  makes  its  home.  Let 
 every  form  and  element  of  religious  clia- 
 racter,  and  every  mode  and  degree  of  de- 
 
 vout feeling,  be  baptized  and  filled  with 
 the  Spirit  of  God.  Dr.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Copy  of  Christ. 
 
 Although  Christ  is  the  only  one  perfect 
 man  in  all  His  relations  to  God  and  man, 
 yet  His  people  have  caught  some  rays  of 
 the  brightness  of  His  holiness.  They  have 
 copied,  some  one,  and  some  another  point 
 of  His  perfect  life  and  character  j  just  as 
 children  of  the  same  family  will  bear,  some 
 one,  and  some  another  feature  of  the  father's 
 face.  Noneofthesaintshavebeen altogether 
 like  our  Lord ;  none  of  them  ever  could 
 have  reached  to  the  height  of  His  per- 
 fection ;  yet  each  one  amongst  them  has 
 followed  our  Lord's  holy  example  in  some 
 one  matter,  or  been  remarkable  for  some 
 one  grace  that  has  been  drawn  from  Christ. 
 Anon. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Coward. 
 
 Ah,  what  mean  Christians  coward 
 Christians  are !  They  are  not  fit  to  be 
 in  my  Father's  house.  A  man  that  pro- 
 fesses to  be  an  heir  of  God,  lor  ever  evad- 
 ing or  backing  out  of  difficulties,  for  ever 
 studying  to  know  how  he  may  avoid 
 trouble,  I  am  ashamed  of  such  a  relation  ! 
 He  is  no  relation  of  mine.  He  does  not 
 belong  to  my  Father.  He  has  none  of  my 
 blood  in  him ;  for  my  blood  is  of  Christ. 
 A  man  that  is  afraid  of  right  and  its  con- 
 sequences ;  of  justice  and  its  consequences  ; 
 and  of  manhood  and  its  consequences ;  is 
 so  much  a  Christian,  that  of  all  sinners, 
 surely,  he  is  the  chief!         H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHRISTLa.NS— Differences  in. 
 
 There  are  diff'erences  of  character  which, 
 springing  from  constitutional  peculiarities 
 or  early  education,  grace  will  modify,  but 
 never  altogether  eradicate  on  this  side  the 
 grave.  Such  are  those  in  Banyan's  pic- 
 tures, all  painted,  no  doubt,  from  life,  as 
 well  Greatheart  the  giant-killer,  an  hero 
 of  a  hundred  battles,  as  Mr.  Feeblemind, 
 who  started  at  his  own  shadow,  and 
 trembled  at  the  falling  of  a  leaf.  There 
 are  also  diff'erences  among  Christians  which 
 imply  no  defect ;  just  as  there  are  in  coun- 
 tenances which  are  very  unlike,  and  yet, 
 be  the  complexion  dark  or  fair,  the  hair 
 of  golden  colour,  or  like  the  raven's  wing, 
 are  very  beautiful.  We  do  not  expect,  or 
 even  wish,  all  good  men  to  be  alike,  any 
 more  than  I  would  have  all  the  members 
 of  a  faniily  alike;  all  flowers  alike — none 
 but  roses  in  the  garden,  or  daisies  in  the 
 field  ;  the  Church  of  Christ,  like  the  mea- 
 dows below,  or  the  star-spangled  heavens 
 above,  owing  its  beauty  in  part  to  that 
 variety  in  unity  which  marks  all  the  works 
 of  God,  and  mars  none  of  them. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
153 
 
 CHEISTIANS. 
 
 CHRISTIAirS— Hidden. 
 
 There  are  stars  set  in  the  heavens  by 
 the  hand  of  God,  whose  light  has  never 
 yet  reached  the  eye  of  man ;  gems  lie  con- 
 cealed in  the  dark  abysses  of  earth  that 
 have  never  yet  been  discovered  by  the  re- 
 search of  man ;  flowers  which  have  grown 
 in  blushing  beauty  before  the  sun,  that 
 have  never  been  seen  by  the  florist :  so  there 
 may  be  Christians,  made  such  by  God, 
 who  are  hidden  from  the  knowledge  of 
 this  world.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHSISTIANS— Incitement  to. 
 
 Were  the  Olympian  Agonistse  inspired 
 by  the  admiring  gaze  of  applauding  thoii- 
 sands  ?  Did  the  thunders  of  acclamation 
 which  awoke  the  echoes  of  Olympus  excite 
 the  Athletffi  to  higher  energies  ?  How, 
 then,  shall  we  be  atlected,  who  believe  that 
 we  are  under  the  watchful  eye  of  the 
 Dread  Supreme?  The  King  looks  on 
 those  who  are  running  the  heavenly  race, 
 who  are  wrestling  with  spiritual  antago- 
 nists, and  who  are  handing  "  a  cup  of  cold 
 water  "  to  some  drooping  and  thirsty  dis- 
 ciple !  As  the  King's  eye  brightens  with 
 approbation  let  us  resolve  to  climb  the  high- 
 est steps  of  duty,  and  to  walk  on  the  loftiest 
 mountains  of  holy  enterprise. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Parher. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Joyous. 
 
 Those  that  are  diligent  in  working  for 
 salvation,  many  times  have  high  spring- 
 tides of  joy  :  j'oy,  thiit  is  unspeakable  and 
 glorious,  that  rusheth  in  upon  the  soul  and 
 ravisheth  it  with  a  sweet  and  potent  de- 
 light, while  it  is  in  the  ways  of  ohedience. 
 B;p.  Hopkins. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— as  Light. 
 
 A  traveller  once,  visiting  the  lighthouse 
 at  Calais,  said  to  the  keeper,  "  But  what  if 
 one  of  your  lights  should  go  out  at  night?" 
 "Never — impossible!"  he  cried.  "Sir, 
 yonder  are  ships  sailing  to  all  parts  of  the 
 world.  If  to-night  one  of  my  burners 
 were  out,  in  six  months  I  should  hear 
 from  America,  or  India,  saying  that  on 
 such  a  night  the  lights  at  Calais  light- 
 house gave  no  warning,  and  some  vessel 
 had  been  wrecked.  Ah,  sir  !  sometimes  I 
 feel,  when  I  look  upon  my  lights,  as  if  the 
 eyes  of  the  whole  world  were  fixed  upon 
 me.  Go  out!  burn  dim  !  Never!  impos- 
 sible !" 
 
 With  how  much  dignity  can  enthusiasm 
 invest  the  humblest  occupation  !  Yet 
 what  a  lesson  to  the  Christian !  It  is  no 
 romance  which  makes  the  Christian  a  spi- 
 ritual  lighthouse  for  the  world,  with  the 
 eyes  of  the  whole  world  upon  him.  Let, 
 then,  his  light  be  full  and  bright,  and 
 clear.     The   moment   he   neglects  it,  and 
 
 leaves  his  lamps  untrimmed,  some  poor 
 soul,  struggling  amid  the  waves  of  temp- 
 tation, for  lack  of  it  may  be  dashed  upon 
 the  rocks  of  destruction.  Anon. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— a  PecuUar  People. 
 
 Like  November  roses  blooming  in  the 
 midst  of  winter's  bleakness;  like  green 
 oases  in  the  sandy  desert  ;  like  the 
 "sealed"  ones  (Rev.  vii,  1 — 8);  like  the 
 great  gulf-stream  which  flows  from  the 
 western  world,  through  the  ocean,  yet  dis- 
 tinct from  it  in  colour,  warmth,  &c. :  so 
 should  all  Christians  be  in  the  world — of  it, 
 but  not  confounded  with  it.  As  the  Jews 
 have  ever  been  a  peculiar  people,  by  their 
 manners,  appearance,  religion,  &c.,  so 
 should  Christians,  by  the  holiness  of  their 
 lives,  be  distinguished  from  all  the  world 
 besides.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Proud  Professing. 
 
 As  any  exuberance  and  wen  in  the  body 
 is  a  great  deformity  and  blemish  to  it,  so 
 these  professors,  who  are  high  swollen  and 
 ]iufled  up  with  conceit,  are  but  as  wens  in 
 the  body  mystical ;  they  are  but  blisters, 
 which  contain  nothing  in  them  but  ill- 
 humours,  and  bring  a  great  deal  of  de- 
 formity and  discredit  upon  that  holy  re- 
 ligion which  they  profess.        Bj).  Hopkins. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Relations  of. 
 
 The  relations  of  Christians  to  each  other 
 are  like  the  several  flowers  in  a  garden 
 that  have  upon  each  the  dew  of  heaven, 
 which,  being  shaken  by  the  wind,  they  let 
 fall  the  dew  at  each  other's  roots,  whereby 
 they  are  jointly  nourished,  and  become 
 nourishers  of  one  another.  Bungan. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Sentimental. 
 
 There  are  certain  minerals,  such  as 
 quartz,  fluor  spar,  and  the  diamond,  which, 
 when  rubbed  against  each  other,  or  ex- 
 posed to  a  considerable  degree  of  heat, 
 will,  when  removed  to  a  dark  place,  throw 
 oft'  very  beautiful  light,  although  before 
 opaque.  This  is  called  phosphorescence. 
 So  there  are  some  Christians,  like  these 
 stones,  who  are  cold  and  dark  in  themselves, 
 but  under  the  influence  of  eloquence,  sym- 
 pathy, &c.,  are  excited  to  earnest  glows  of 
 love,  and  zealous  actions  of  good  works. 
 
 Frqf.  Hitchcock. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Small. 
 
 Some  Christians  are  so  small  in  their 
 faith,  love,  patience,  obedience,  and  zeal, 
 that  they  are  like  Zaccheus,  cannot  see 
 Jesus  unless  they  climb  up  on  the  eminence 
 of  some  special  means  provided. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— as  the  Sun. 
 
 Christians  should  be  as  the  sun  in  six 
 
CHRISTIANS— CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 
 
 153 
 
 qualities,  Greatness,  Beauty,  Measure,  Fer- 
 vour, Readiness,  and  Fruitfulness.  Great- 
 ness, in  the  elevation  of  the  mind  above  all 
 small  and  mean  earthly  sinful  things,  and 
 in  a  capacity  of  heart  which  cannot  be 
 filled  with  anythinp^  but  God.  Beauty,  in 
 being  clothed  with  light,  and  adorned  with 
 the  graces  of  the  Spirit.  Measure,  in 
 regulating  their  lives,  and  in  the  bestow- 
 ment  of  blessings.  Fervour,  in  the  exercise 
 of  charity  and  in  the  acts  of  devotion, 
 Meadiness,  in  doing  service  to  God  and 
 ^man,  according  to  the  laws  which  He  has 
 given.  Fruitfulness,  in  producing  good 
 works  in  their  own  lives,  and  the  means  of 
 producing  thein  in  others.  "  They  shall  be 
 as  the  sun  when  he  goeth  forth." 
 
 John  Bate. 
 CHRISTIANS— True. 
 
 True  Christians  resemble  those  flowers 
 which  shut  themselves  up  during  night, 
 and  hang  down  their  heads  devoid  of  per- 
 fume ;  but  no  sooner  are  they  touched  by 
 the  first  ray  of  the  genial  morning  sun, 
 than  they  again  open  their  bosoms,  stretch 
 upwards,  expanding  their  refreshed  petals 
 to  the  monarch  of  day,  and  again  stand 
 like  lovely  altars,  which  diffuse  nothing 
 around  them  but  fragrance  and  refresh- 
 ment. Dr.  F.  W.  Krummaeher. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— True  and  False. 
 
 An  opulent  man  had  taken  down  several 
 fine  paintings  which  adorned  the  walls  of 
 his  house,  cleaned  oft'  the  dust  with  a 
 whisk  of  feathers  and  a  moist  cloth,  and 
 then  exposed  them  to  the  sun,  knowing 
 that  this  is  the  way  to  brighten  paintings 
 in  oil,  and  renew  their  original  beauty  and 
 freshness  ;  whereas,  from  pictures  in  water- 
 colour,  the  colour  rubs  oft'  with  the  im- 
 purities. False  Christians  resemble  pic- 
 tures in  water-colours ;  they  possess  the 
 form  of  godliness,  but  deny  the  power 
 (2  Tim.  iii,  5),  and  may  for  a  time  deceive 
 men,  because  men  can  see  no  further  than 
 the  outward  appearance.  They  are  known, 
 however,  to  God,  who  tries  the  heart  and 
 the  reins ;  and  He  will  cast  them  into  ever- 
 lasting fire,  as  being  unworthy  to  enter 
 heaven.  As  for  true  Christians,  whose 
 hearts  have  been  thoroughly  penetrated 
 by  the  oil  of  the  Gospel,  aud  who  have 
 taken  their  hue  from  the  blood  of  Christ, 
 they  stand  the  proof,  endure  trial,  and 
 come  forth  more  beautiful  out  of  every 
 temptation.  Gotthold. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— "Weak. 
 
 Isaac  must  not  always  be  hanging  on 
 Sarah's  breast,  but  must  be  weaned  :  so  we 
 must  not  always  be  babes  desiring  the 
 sincere  milk  of  the  word,  but  become  men 
 complete  in  Christ,  feeding  ou  the  strong 
 meat  of  the  word.  Senry  Smith. 
 
 CHRISTIANS- Work  of. 
 
 You  are  forgiven  and  accepted.  You 
 owe  all  to  Christ.  You  look  forth  from 
 your  position  of  safety,  and  behold  a  world 
 lying  in  wickedness.  You  pity  the  sinful, 
 as  the  Lord  pitied  you.  Having  been 
 saved,  you  desire,  as  if  by  an  instinct,  to 
 be  a  saviour.  You  begin.  You  grasp  a 
 fallen  brother  by  the  best  band,  a  brother's 
 love,  and  draw  him  to  yourself  that  you 
 may  draw  him  to  the  Saviour.  For  a  time 
 you  seem  to  have  gained  your  brother. 
 But  after  a  while,  at  some  unguarded 
 moment,  and  through  some  unguarded 
 opening,  seven  devils  enter  and  dwell 
 again  in  the  partially  reformed  heart,  and 
 the  last  state  of  the  man  seems  worse  than 
 the  fii'st.  You  are  weary  ;  but  you  must 
 still  work.  Now  is  the  time  for  toil :  the 
 rest  remaineth. 
 
 Two  young  men  were  disporting  on  the 
 ice  of  a  Scottish  lake.  One,  approaching 
 incautiously  a  treacherous  spot,  fell  through. 
 His  companion  came  quickly  to  the  rescue. 
 Himself  sometimes  in  the  water  and  some- 
 times on  the  ice,  he  many  times  grasped 
 the  drowning  man  and  drew  him  con- 
 siderably above  the  surface;  but  each  time 
 the  weight  of  the  wet  and  paralysed  body 
 prevailed ;  each  time  it  sank  again,  until 
 at  last  the  worker's  strength  was  exhausted, 
 and  the  victim  perished.  Had  you  been 
 there  when  for  the  last  time  that  strong 
 wilUng  worker  drew  with  all  his  might  to 
 save  a  sinking  brother,  and  then  lay  down 
 exhausted,  leaving  that  brother  to  sink, 
 you  would  have  seen  a  workuian  wearied 
 by  his  work.  His  hands  were  wearied  with 
 the  greatness  of  his  eliort,  and  his  heart 
 was  weary  bciause  the  eft'ort  had  failed. 
 Such  is  the  work  to  which  Christians  are 
 called  in  the  world,  and  such  often,  though 
 not  always,  are  the  disappointments  which 
 they  meet.  At  death  the  weariness  of  the 
 worker  will  wholly  cease.  Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 CHRISTIANS— Worldly. 
 
 0  the  cursed  madness  of  many  that 
 seem  to  be  relii^ious !  They  thrust  them- 
 selves into  a  multitude  of  employments, 
 till  they  are  so  loaded  with  labours  and 
 clogged  with  cares  that  their  souls  are 
 as  unfit  to  converse  with  God,  as  a  man  to 
 walk  with  a  mountain  on  his  back,  and  as 
 unfit  to  soar  in  meditation,  as  their  bodies 
 to  leap  above  the  sun  ;  and  when  they 
 have  lost  that  heaven  upon  earth  whi/h 
 they  might  have  had,  they  take  up  witti  a 
 few  rotten  arguments  to  prove  it  lawful, 
 though,  indeed,  they  cannot.  Baxter. 
 
 CHRISTIAN  RELIGION— ExceUency  of  the. 
 
 We    may    learn    the    excellency    of  the 
 
 Christian  religion  in  this,  that  it  is  the 
 
 great  and  ony  means  that  God  has  sane- 
 
154 
 
 CHEISTIAN  RELIGION— CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 tified  and  designed  to  repair  the  breaches 
 of  humanity,  to  set  fallen  man  upon  his 
 logs  ngain,  to  clarify  his  reason,  to  rectify 
 his  will,  and  to  compose  and  regulate  his 
 ali'ections.  The  whole  business  of  our  re- 
 demption is,  in  short,  only  to  rub  over  the 
 defaced  copy  of  the  creation,  to  reprint 
 God's  imnge  upon  the  soul,  and  (as  it 
 were)  to  set  forth  nature  in  a  second  and 
 a  fairer  edition.  Dr.  South. 
 
 CHRISTIAN  RELIGION— Judging  the. 
 
 We  are  willing  that  it  should  be  judged 
 by  its  fruits,  and  if  it  does  not  yield  more 
 perfect  fruit  than  philosophy  or  reason  ever 
 produced,  then  let  it  be  rejected.  But  in 
 judging  of  its  effects  we  must  take  them  as 
 a  whole,  and  not  look  at  solitary  instances 
 of  failure.  If  a  Christian  country  is  not, 
 upon  the  whole,  more  elevated  in  a  moral 
 point  of  view  than  a  pagan,  then  let  pagan- 
 ism be  our  religion.  If  the  Christian,  in 
 his  entire  course,  though  there  be  particu- 
 lar instances  of  sin,  be  not  better  than  the 
 worldling,  then  let  the  religion  of  the  world 
 be  our  choice.  David  was  one  of  the  great- 
 est kings  of  Scripture;  let  his  whole  reign 
 be  compared  with  that  of  Alexander,  the 
 greatest  king  of  ancient  profane  history, 
 and  if  it  do  not  stand  higher  in  a  moral 
 point  of  view,  then  we  might  acknowledge 
 that  David's  religion  was  powerless.  Every- 
 one acquainted  with  the  private  and  public 
 characters  of  these  two  monarchs,  placed 
 amid  the  temptations  of  power,  must 
 acknowledge  that  while  there  was  one  de- 
 filing blot  on  the  character  of  David,  that 
 of  Alexander  was  one  whole  blot,  set  off 
 only  by  shining  sins,  and  that  while  the 
 suhjeets  of  the  former  were  happy,  those  of 
 the  latter  were  but  the  slaves  of  ambition 
 and  the  instruments  of  terror. 
 
 W.  S.  Lewis. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Adaptation  of. 
 
 In  all  the  intricacy  of  the  most  modified 
 humanity,  in  all  the  womb  of  ever-working 
 time,  there  is  not  a  perplexity  which  it 
 cannot  explain ;  there  is  not  a  contingency 
 for  which  it  is  not  prepared.  It  is  strong 
 for  the  grapple,  as  tender  for  the  embrace. 
 It  is  equal  for  all  encounters  and  all  trials. 
 For  every  case  it  furnishes  a  ready  prece- 
 dent and  a  repeated  counterpart.  By  one 
 vast  conception  it  generalises  man,  and 
 with  as  minute  peculiarity  it  follows  and 
 unfolds  all  his  variations.  It  discerns  "  the 
 end  from  the  beginning,"  and  to  every 
 child  of  Adam  holds  up  the  glass  in  which 
 he  may  see  his  own  natural  face.  It  knows 
 the  I'.eart's  bitterness  as  if  within  its  con- 
 sciousness, and  applies  the  soul's  medicine 
 as  if  itself  felt  the  wound.  It  is  the 
 catholicon  and  the  specific  —  exhibiting 
 such  a  comprehension  of  the  all  as  though 
 not  an  attention  could  be  expended  on  the 
 
 individual,  and  such  a  care  of  the  indi' 
 vidual  as  though  no  amplitude  could  con- 
 tain the  all.  Dr.  R.  W.  Samilton. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Advent  of. 
 
 The  enfeebled  world  was  tottering  on  its 
 foundations  when  Christianity  appeared. 
 The  natural  religions,  which  had  satisfied 
 the  parents,  no  longer  proved  sufficient  for 
 their  children.  The  new  generations  could 
 not  repose  contented  within  the  ancient 
 forms.  The  gods  of  every  nation,  when 
 transported  to  Rome,  there  lost  their 
 oi-acles,  as  the  nations  themselves  had  lost 
 their  liberty.  Brought  face  to  face  in  the 
 Capitol,  they  had  destroyed  each  other,  and 
 their  divinity  had  vanished.  A  great  void 
 was  occasioned  in  the  religion  of  the  world. 
 Then  the  Word  was  made  flesh ;  God  ap- 
 peared among  men,  and  as  man,  to  save 
 that  which  was  lost.  In  Jesus  of  Naza- 
 reth dwelt  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
 bodily.  This  is  the  greatest  event  in  the 
 annals  of  the  world.  Former  ages  had 
 paved  the  way  for  it ;  the  latter  ages  flow 
 from  it.  It  is  tlieir  centre  and  bond  of 
 unity.  Henceforward  the  popular  super- 
 stitions had  no  meaning,  and  the  slight 
 fragments  preserved  from  the  general 
 wreck  of  incredulity  vanished  before  the 
 majestic  orb  of  eternal  truth.     D'Aubigne. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— perfect  in  Beauty. 
 
 Does  Christianity  really  stand  in  need  of 
 additional  splendour  to  its  ritual,  or  of 
 material  ornament  to  its  lessons  ?  I  con- 
 ceive  that  there  is  something  in  the  simple 
 Gosjjel  so  majestic — something  so  trans- 
 cending all  that  the  pencil  of  the  painter 
 or  the  pen  of  the  poet,  can  embody — that 
 Christianity  seems  to  me  adorned  the  most, 
 when  it  is  adorned  the  least.  Would  you 
 ever  think  of  taking  a  few  drops  from  a 
 phial  of  otto  of  roses,  in  order  to  add 
 to  the  perfume  of  the  rose  just  gathered 
 on  a  May  morning,  and  wet  with  the 
 dews  of  heaven  ?  If  that  splendid  monu- 
 ment of  human  genius  were  here,  the 
 Apollo  Belvidere,  unquestionably  the  pro- 
 duct of  the  chisel  of  one  of  the  most  illus- 
 trious of  ancient  statuaries,  should  we 
 applaud  the  taste  of  that  man  who  would 
 propose  that  the  mercer's  and  the  hatter's 
 and  the  shoemaker's  shops  should  furnish 
 ornaments  with  which  to  deck  it  ?  Would 
 you  not  say,  There  is  something  in  the 
 almost  living  lineaments  of  the  form  so 
 noble,  something  in  the  contour  and  pro- 
 portions of  the  marble  so  beautiful,  that  the 
 richest  clothing  of  man  would  deform,  not 
 dignify — dim,  not  reveal,  its  pure  and 
 simple  glories  ?  So  is  it  with  the  Gospel  of 
 the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  so  beautiful 
 in  itself  that  all  accessions  of  material 
 beauty  serve  but  to  conceal  or  n;ar  it.  The 
 Rose  of  Sharon  is  so  fragrant,  and  its  tints 
 
CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 15^ 
 
 so  lovel}',  that  it  needs  no  sprinkling  from 
 streams  of  the  Isis — still  less  from  the  filthy 
 waters  of  the  Tiber — either  to  augment  its 
 perfume  or  to  heighten  its  colours. 
 
 Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Ethics  of. 
 
 The  superiority  of  the  Christian  code  is 
 practically  acknowledged,  and  often  con- 
 fessed, in  a  most  significant  way,  by  the 
 mode  in  which  the  enemies  of  Christianity 
 taunt  its  disciples.  When  they  speak  of 
 the  vices  and  corruptions  of  the  heathen, 
 they  blame,  and  justly  blame,  the  principles 
 of  their  vicious  systems  ;  and  ask  how  it 
 could  be  otherwise  ?  WTien  they  blame 
 the  Christian,  the  first  and  the  last  thing 
 they  usually  do,  is  to  point  in  triumph  to 
 the  contrast  between  his  principles  and 
 practice.  "  How  much  better,"  say  they, 
 "  is  his  code  than  his  conduct !"  It  is  as  a 
 hypocrite  that  they  censure  him.  It  is  sad 
 for  him  that  it  should  be  so ;  but  it  is  a 
 glorious  compliment  to  the  morality  of  the 
 New  Testament.  Its  enemies  know  not 
 how  to  attack  its  disciples,  except  by 
 endeavouring  to  show  that  they  do  not  act 
 as  it  bids  them.  Surely  this  uniform  ex- 
 cellence of  the  Christian  ethics,  as  compared 
 with  other  systems,  is  a  peculiarity  worth 
 nothing,  and  utterly  incomprehensible  upon 
 the  hypothesis  that  it  was  the  unaided  work 
 of  man.  That  there  are  points  on  which 
 the  moral  systems  of  men  and  nations 
 osculate,  is  most  true;  that  there  should 
 have  been  certain  approximations  on  many 
 most  important  subjects  was  to  be  expected 
 from  the  essential  identity  of  human 
 nature,  in  all  ages  and  countries ;  but 
 their  deviations  in  some  point  or  other — 
 usually  in  several — from  v.-hat  we  acknow- 
 ledge to  be  both  right  and  expedient,  is 
 equally  undeniable.  That  when  such 
 men  as  Plato  and  Aristotle  tried  their 
 hands  upon  the  problem,  they  should  err, 
 while  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament 
 should  have  succeeded — that  these  last 
 should  do  what  all  mankind  besides  had  in 
 some  points  or  other  failed  to  do,  is  sufli- 
 ciently  wonderful  ; — that  Galilean  Jetos 
 should  have  solved  the  problem,  is,  whether 
 we  consider  their  age,  their  ignorance,  or 
 their  prepossessions,  to  me  utterly  in- 
 credible. S.  Rogers. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— not  Gloomy. 
 
 Christianity  a  gloomy  system !  The 
 world  and  devils  may  say  so ;  but  a  thou- 
 sand eyes  that  sparkle  with  a  hope  that 
 muketh  not  ashamed,  and  a  thousanil  hearts 
 that  beat  happily  with  the  full  pulse  of 
 spiritual  life,  can  tell  thee  thou  liest. 
 Christianity  a  gloomy  system  !  Why,  it  is 
 the  Christian  only  that  can  thoroughly  en- 
 joy the  world.  To  him,  to  his  grateful 
 vision,  earth  is  garlanded  with  fairer  beauty. 
 
 heaven  sparkles  with  serener  smiles;  to 
 him  the  landscape  is  the  more  lovely,  be- 
 cause  it  reminds  him  of  the  paradise  of  his 
 hope  in  prospect,  which  his  father  once 
 lost,  but  which  his  Saviour  has  brought 
 back  again,  as  a  family  inheritance  for  ever ; 
 to  him  the  ocean  rolls  the  more  grandly, 
 because  it  figures  out  the  duration  of  his 
 promised  life ;  to  him  the  birds  in  their 
 forest  minstrelsy  warble  the  more  sweetly, 
 because  their  woodland  music  takes  hira 
 upwards  to  the  harpers  harping  with  their 
 harps  in  heaven;  to  him  the  mountains 
 tower  the  more  sublimely,  because  their 
 heaven-pointing  summits  are  the  emblems 
 of  his  own  majestic  hopes. 
 "  His  are  the  mountains  and  the  valleys — 
 His  the  resplendent  groves — His  to  enjoy 
 With  a  propriety  which  none  can  feel 
 But  who,  with  filial  confidence  inspired. 
 Can  lift  to  heaven  an  unpresumptuous  eye. 
 And  smiling  say,  'My  Father  made  them 
 all.'  "  W.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Growth  of. 
 
 The  little  seed  which  Jesus  and  His  dis- 
 ciples sowed  shall  one  day  grow  to  propor- 
 tions more  vast  than  that  tree  which  the 
 prophet  beheld  in  vision  whose  "  height 
 reached  unto  heaven  and  the  sight  thereof 
 to  the  end  of  all  the  earth."  All  the  other 
 productions  of  the  world  shall  be  small  in 
 comparison  with  it.  Or  to  change  the 
 figure,  "  the  little  stone  cut  out  of  the 
 mountain  without  hands,"  will  roll  on  and 
 grow  in  every  re^'olution  until  it  become  a 
 great  mountain  to  fill  the  whole  earth. 
 
 I>r.  Thomas. 
 
 Christianity  is  confessedly  slow  in  its  pro- 
 gress; but  it  does  progress.  It  does  not 
 grow  fast,  but  it  does  grow.  As  a  general 
 principle  of  life,  science,  and  institutions, 
 the  greater  the  thing,  the  slower  its  growth. 
 Every  kind  of  life,  philosophic,  social,  and 
 political,  as  well  as  vegetat)le  and  animal, 
 has  its  mushroom  and  oak  ;  the  one  reach- 
 ing its  perfection  in  a  few  hours,  the  other 
 requiring  the  growth  of  long  centuries. 
 Since  Christianity  appeared,  how  many  sys- 
 tems of  religion  have  sprung  up,  reached 
 their  maturity  and  passed  away  But 
 Christianity  is  growing  still,  its  roots  are 
 deeper,  its  branches  stretch  over  more  ter- 
 ritory, and  are  clad  in  richer  foliage  to-day 
 than  ever.  Ibid. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Joyousness  of. 
 
 Right  joyous  and  delightsome  is  the 
 religion  of  Him  whose  contemporaries  ex- 
 claimed, "  Thou  art  not  yet  Jifty  years  old" 
 when  they  misunderstood  his  statement, 
 that  "Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  Sis  day 
 and  teas  glad."  When  He  bade  His  dis- 
 ciples "  rejoice  that  their  names  were  writ' 
 
156 
 
 CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 ten  in  heaven"  Himself  rejoiced  with  them, 
 "  Man  of  sorrows"  as  He  was  (Luke  x,  20, 
 21).  He  who  "took  children  in  His  arms," 
 "  looked  upon  young  men,  and  loved  them ;" 
 the  disciple  who  lay  nearest  to  His  bosom, 
 was  perhaps  the  nearest  his  own  age,  the 
 youngest  of  the  twelve.  In  my  experience 
 the  happiest  youth  is  always  the  holiest. 
 There  is  a  peace  in  the  believing  consci  )us- 
 ness  of  pardoned  sin,  and  assured  accept- 
 ance in  the  sight  of  God,  in  the  repose  of 
 soul  on  the  precious  promises,  and  quietude 
 of  conscience  in  the  atonement  of  a  Media- 
 tor, which  operates  as  a  charm  and  anti- 
 dote to  the  trials  of  life,  and  the  bitterness 
 of  death.  So  that  the  good  man  is  a  glad 
 man,  but  his  joy  is  no  more  the  joy  of  the 
 world,  than  his  sorrow  is  the  "sorrow  of 
 the  world."  He  is  neither  a  mourning 
 dove,  nor  a  chattering  magpie;  he  is  not 
 an  ascetic,  but  neither  is  he  a  wanton  ;  he 
 does  not  sublimate  and  soar  with  the  wings 
 of  an  angel,  but  neither  does  he  flutter 
 with  the  flaps  of  a  bat ;  never  forgets  that 
 he  is  a  man,  and  not  a  buftbon — a  Christian, 
 and  therefore  neither  a  butt  for  other  men's 
 Avit,  nor  a  bolt,  like  a  perpetual  revolver, 
 for  his  own.  There  is  as  solid  a  diflierence 
 between  levity  and  light-heartedness,  as 
 between  the  crackling  pyrotechnics  that 
 dazzle  and  disturb  the  night,  and  the 
 natural  sunlight  that  exhilarates  the  day. 
 J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Judging. 
 
 Judge  not  Christianity,  even  by  its  most 
 perfect  embodiment  in  the  life  of  its  dis- 
 ciples here.  The  best  are  imperfect,  and 
 Christianity  itself  teaches  this,  and  points 
 to  perfection  as  yonder.  Do  not  judge  the 
 science  of  that  organ-builder  by  that  half- 
 finished  instrument  in  his  workshop.  There 
 is  but  little  in  that  to  please  the  eye,  and 
 from  it  scarce  a  note  can  be  evolved  to 
 charm  the  ear.  Judge  not  the  artistic 
 character  of  that  painter  by  the  first  rough 
 outline  which  you  discover  on  the  canvas 
 in  his  studio.  There  is  scarcely  a  touch  of 
 life  in  it,  or  any  perceptible  resemblance  to 
 the  original.  Judge  the  organ-builder  by 
 the  instrument  as  it  stands  in  the  great 
 cathedral,  pouring  forth,  by  the  touch  of  a 
 master-musician,  pealing  strains  of  music 
 electrifying  the  congregated  tliousands. 
 Judge  the  artist  by  the  picture  as  hung  up 
 in  the  Academy  of  Art — looking,  tlirobbiiig, 
 andlilushing  at  you  as  atliing  of  life,  gather- 
 ing around  it  a  crowd  of  admiring  spec- 
 tators. Even  so  judge  Christianity.  Its 
 organ — the  Christian  life — is  not  half- 
 finished  here  in  its  workshop.  Yonder,  in 
 the  great  cathedral  of  eternity,  you  will  see 
 it  in  perfection,  and  feel  the  inspiiations 
 of  its  harmonies.  The  painting  is  not 
 finished  here  in  its  studio ;  its  figure  is 
 half-formed,  and  blotched,  and  scarcely  a 
 
 feature  is  accurate.  See  it  in  the  great 
 gallery  of  the  heavens,  finished,  and  aa 
 exact  copy  of  the  Son  of  God  Himself, 
 "  Who  is  the  image  of  the  Father's  glory," 
 &c.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 A  sceptic  would  never  think  of  judging 
 a  painting  by  the  frame  which  enclosed  it, 
 or  the  room  in  which  it  was  hung ;  or 
 the  provision  on  his  table  by  the  vessels  in 
 which  it  was  contained,  or  by  the  table  on 
 which  it  was  spread;  or  the  light  by 
 the  windows  through  which  it  shone;  or 
 the  doctrines  of  a  book  by  the  type  and 
 paper  in  which  they  were  printed ;  or  a 
 man  by  the  clothing  which  he  wore  ;  why 
 then  should  he  judge  of  Christianity  by  the 
 men  who  profess  it,  by  the  garb  of  cere- 
 monies, words,  and  claims  which  are 
 attached  to  it  by  her  followers  ?  No ;  let 
 him  look  from  the  frame,  the  room,  the 
 vessels,  the  window,  the  clothing,  and 
 judge  by  the  intrinsic  qualities  which  she 
 contains  as  a  revelation  from  God,  or  as  a 
 manifestation  in  the  life  and  teachings  of 
 Jesus  Christ  and  His  Divine  Spirit. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— a  Life. 
 
 Christianity  is  not  a  religion  of  transcen- 
 dental abstraction  or  brilliant  speculation; 
 its  children  are  neither  monks,  nor  mystics, 
 nor  Epicurians,  nor  Stoics.  It  is  the  reli- 
 gion of  loving,  speaking,  and  doing,  as  well 
 as  of  believing.  It  is  a  life  as  well  as  a 
 creed.  It  finds  a  rest  for  the  heart,  a  word 
 for  the  tongue,  a  way  for  the  feet,  and  a 
 work  for  the  hand.  The  same  Lord  who 
 is  the  foundation  of  our  hopes,  and  the 
 object  of  our  faith,  and  the  subject  of  our 
 love,  is  also  the  model  of  our  conduct,  for 
 "  He  went  about  doing  good."  He  has 
 left  us  an  example  that  we  should  follow 
 His  steps.  In  a  Christian,  the  working 
 hand  is  the  willing  and  liberal  execution  of 
 the  loving  heart ;  action  is  the  ofi'spring  of 
 inspiration.  Love  cannot  be  repressed — it 
 would  not  if  it  could ;  it  must  translate  it- 
 self into  life.  Like  the  electric  fluid,  it 
 gathers  volume  from  repression,  and  strength 
 from  resistance.  Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Mysteries  in. 
 
 Christianity,  indeed,  contains  mysteries, 
 but  they  are,  like  all  the  mysteries  of  God, 
 sublime  and  glorious,  and  connected  with 
 rich  practical  benefits.  There  is  no  greater 
 mystery  to  me  than  the  sun.  What  is  the 
 !  substance  of  his  orb  ?  What  feeds  his  in- 
 exhaustible light  and  heat  ?  What  is  the 
 nature  of  light  itself,  and  by  what  force  is 
 every  ray  carried  directly  onwards  in  space, 
 travelling  eternally,  except  it  meet  a  reflec- 
 ting or  absorbing  surface  ?  O  sun,  I  know 
 thee  not !  thou  art  to  me,  like  every  other 
 
CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 157 
 
 star  of  light,  "a  beauty  and  a  mystery  !"  I 
 know  not  what  thou  art;  but  I  know  tliat 
 thou  art ;  thou  risest  every  morning  to  give 
 me  light,  and  settest  every  night  to  give 
 me  repose ;  thou  travellest  through  thy  vast 
 circuit,  and  bringest  the  pleasant  succession 
 of  the  seasons  ;  thou  art,  to  me,  God's  most 
 palpable  and  glorious  minister  of  blessings  ! 
 I  know  not  lohat  thou  art  in  thyself,  and  I 
 may  never  ascend  thy  empyreal  seat  to  gain 
 a  nearer  vision;  but  I  know  thy  benign 
 influences  and  effects ;  I  know  that  I  can- 
 not live  without  thee !  And  so  likewise 
 these  orbs  of  moral  and  spiritual  truth, 
 which  move  togetlier  in  the  Gospel  system, 
 are  at  a  sublime  height  above  my  feeble 
 vision.  I  see  them,  I  know  that  they  are, 
 I  experience  their  gracious,  healing,  hea- 
 venly influences ;  they  are  to  me  "  life  and 
 immortality."  I  believe  in  the  Father,  the 
 Son,  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  although  the 
 Divine  Being  is  to  me  an  orb  of  brightness 
 whose  intense  centre  I  cannot  penetrate. 
 Like  Moses  in  his  vision,  we  see  but  the  far 
 off  sweeping  sldrts  of  His  glory ;  we  feel  its 
 vivifying  and  enriching  power,  and  the 
 goodness  of  the  Lord  passes  before  us.  It 
 is  jjaternal  mercy,  redeeming  love,  ineffable 
 consolation,  joy  and  peace — and  this  suffices 
 us.  Professor  Tappan. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— not  of  Man. 
 
 When  you  behold  a  majestic  tree  standing 
 in  the  field,  which  has  darted  its  roots  far 
 and  deep  into  the  earth,  and  spreads  its 
 branches  wide  around  it,  and  produces, 
 year  after  year,  its  store  of  leaves  and 
 flowers,  and  fruits ;  you  might  as  well 
 imagine  it  to  be  the  fashioning  of  man's 
 hands,  an  ingenious  device  and  artifice  of 
 his,  which  he  feeds  and  nourishes,  as  sup- 
 pose the  same  of  the  system  I  have  de- 
 scribed ;  which,  as  you  have  seen,  entwines 
 its  roots  through  all  the  shadowy  insti- 
 tutions of  the  elder  dispensation,  and 
 standing  tall  and  erect  in  the  midst  of 
 the  new,  defies  the  whirlwind  and  the 
 lightning,  the  drought  and  scorching  sun, 
 burgeoning  widely,  and,  like  the  prophet's 
 vine,  spreading  its  branches  to  the  utter- 
 most parts  of  the  earth,  and  gathering  all 
 mankind  underneath  its  shade,  and  feeding 
 them  with  the  sweetest  fruits  of  holiness. 
 Cardinal  Wiseman. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Origin  of. 
 
 Pascal  says  that,  wearied  with  the  in- 
 vestigation of  the  external  evidences  of 
 Christianity,  which,  though  they  made  the 
 truth  of  revealed  religion  in  the  highe-t 
 degree  probable,  still,  did  not  amount  to 
 mathematical  certainty,  he  subuiitted  the 
 teachings  of  Christianity  to  his  own  inward 
 nature,  and  found  there  a  prompt  response, 
 whose  verdict  he  could  no  more  doubt 
 than  he  could  doubt  his  own  existence.     A 
 
 religion  so  infinitely  superior  to  every  other 
 in  its  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  the  soul, 
 to  the  tempted,  the  heart-broken,  the 
 dying,  to  universal  humanity  in  all  its 
 conflicts,  sins,  and  woes,  carried  its  own 
 evidence  of  its  Divine  origin.    J.  Chapman. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Peculiarity  of. 
 
 There  is  one  feature  of  Christianity  which 
 must  strike  the  mind  of  every  observer, 
 viz.,  that  no  other  system  of  religion  in  the 
 world  is  missionary.  They  all  limit  them- 
 selves to  the  people,  country  and  clime, 
 where  they  have  grown.  Where  are  the 
 missionaries  of  the  religions  of  China  ?  Of 
 India?  Of  Africa?  Of  Persia  ?  Of  Japan  ? 
 But  no  sooner  was  Christianity  introduced 
 into  the  world  than  it  sent  forth  its  agencies 
 beyond  the  place  of  its  introduction.  "  Je- 
 ruisalem,  Judea,  Samaria,  and  the  utmost 
 parts  of  the  earth," — are  the  scope  of  its 
 operations.  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world 
 and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature," 
 — is  the  command  of  its  Sjnrit  to  all  its 
 agents.  And  hence,  Christianity  has  its 
 agents,  institutions,  literature,  and  means 
 in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  What  does 
 this  prove  for  Christianity  ?  That  as  a 
 system  of  religion,  it  is  nobler,  grander, 
 more  benevolent  and  dilTusive  than  any 
 other;  and  the  success  which  has  crowned 
 Christianity  wherever  it  has  gone,  demon- 
 strates that  it  is  Divine  in  its  origin ;  adapt- 
 ed to  all  minds,  hearts,  lives,  and  coun- 
 tries ;  civilising,  meliorating,  saving,  and 
 beautifying  in  its  effects ;  and  the  only  re- 
 ligion which  can  restore  a  fallen  world  to 
 its  glorious  Creator  and  God.      John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Power  of. 
 
 Christ's  religion,  though  contrary  to  the 
 corrupt  afl'ections  and  interests  of  men, 
 quickly  subdued  the  known  world,  and 
 made  it  submit  to  a  crucified  King.  The 
 doctrine  which  it  taught,  mastered  the 
 understanding  of  the  most  valiant  com- 
 manders, and  outwitted  the  cunning  of  the 
 subtlest  politicians;  it  cancelled  the  cere- 
 monies of  the  Jew,  confounded  the  wisdom 
 of  the  Greek,  and  instructed  the  rudeness 
 of  the  barbarian  ;  and  remains  still  in  the 
 world,  a  constant  evidence  of  its  Author's 
 wisdom  and  power.  Hem-y  Scougal. 
 
 Christianity  sobered  passion  by  reason, 
 and  controlled  imagination  by  truth ;  it 
 excited  sensibility  by  interest,  and  awed 
 conscience  by  retribution ;  compelled  grati- 
 tude by  the  bestowment  of  good,  and  gained 
 affection  by  the  portraiture  of  excellence. 
 What  a  revolution  did  it  accomplish  in  the 
 laws,  usages,  opinions,  and  feelings  of  the 
 world!  It  "famished  the  gods,"  realising 
 the  irony  of  the  prophets  in  the  witlidraw- 
 ment  of  the  sacrifices  on  which  they  were 
 supposed  to  feed ;  it  cast  down  the  t-juiples ; 
 
158 
 
 CHEISTIANITY. 
 
 it  struck  du'iil)  the  oracle'',  the  iinngcs  of 
 power  i'ell  from  their  pedestals ;  the  fires 
 Df  devotion  went  out  on  their  shrines.  It 
 softened  the  ferocity,  and  relaxed  the  pride 
 of  manners ;  it  gave  justice  its  exercise,  and 
 benevolence  its  being.  It  stooped  to  every 
 ill  and  woe.  Nor  was  it  only  a  proposal, 
 but  a  power,  to  bless ;  not  something  to  be 
 thwarted  by  human  perversity,  but  to  melt 
 it  away.  It  was  practical  victory,  a  sure 
 triumph.  It  advanced  without  noise  and 
 pomp,  but  irresistibly.  Its  power  was  dis- 
 played in  the  might  of  effect,  and  not  in 
 the  struggle  of  operation ;  in  the  perfect 
 work,  without  the  intervention  of  process 
 or  delay — like  the  elemental  ray,  imme- 
 diate, piercing,  renovating-— or  the  hidden 
 laws  of  nal.ure  which  speed  and  harmonise 
 all  its  most  exact  and  beneficent  results. 
 Christianity  reaches  the  human  will,  and 
 renews  the  human  heart.  And  a  thousand 
 blessings  which  may  at  first  appear  derived 
 from  an  independent  source,  are  really 
 poured  forth  from  this :  as  the  soft  moon- 
 light is  but  the  reflection  of  the  sun  no 
 longer  visible,  but  still  not  uninfluential. 
 
 Br.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Progress  of. 
 
 The  following  tabular  statement,  a  con- 
 jectural but  probable  representation  of  the 
 progressive  increase  of  Christians  in  the 
 world,  is  attributed  to  Sharon  Turner : 
 
 1st  century,  500,000 
 
 ;  2nd, 
 
 2,000,000 ; 
 
 3rd, 
 
 5,000,000 ; 
 
 4th, 
 
 10,000,000; 
 
 5th, 
 
 15,000,000; 
 
 6th, 
 
 20,000,000; 
 
 7th, 
 
 24,000,000; 
 
 8th, 
 
 30,000,000; 
 
 9th, 
 
 40,000,000; 
 
 10th, 
 
 50,000,000 ; 
 
 11th, 
 
 70,000,000; 
 
 12th, 
 
 80,000,000; 
 
 13th, 
 
 75,000,000; 
 
 14th, 
 
 80,000,000 ; 
 
 15th, 
 
 100,000,000; 
 
 16th, 
 
 125,000,000 ; 
 
 17th, 
 
 155,000,000; 
 
 18th, 
 
 200,000,000. 
 
 Although  this  is  only  a  mere  approxima- 
 tion, and  a  very  loose  one,  to  the  actual 
 facts,  yet  it  is  interesting  and  instructive. 
 With  the  exception  of  the  13th  century 
 (tenebrosum,  as  the  late  Dr.  Miller  called 
 it),  the  progress  of  the  truth  has  been  ever 
 onward.  From  every  defeat  it  has  arisen 
 afresh ;  and,  what  has  never  been  the  case 
 in  any  other  system,  religious,  social  or  in- 
 tellectual, has  revived  anew  from  the  ashes 
 of  its  own  inward  corruptions.  In  this 
 nineteenth  century,  the  Christian  popula- 
 tion of  the  world  cannot  be  far  from 
 300,000,000  and  its  pi-ogress  now  is  more 
 rapid  than  in  any  period  since  the  Apos- 
 tolic age.  What  imagination  can  forecast 
 the  conquests  of  the  next  fifty  years !  The 
 leaven  is  working  in  every  land.  The  old 
 empires  of  idolatry  and  superstition  are 
 efl'ete  and  ready  to  vanish,  while  new 
 Christian  empires  are  born  almost  in  a  day. 
 Every  new  discovery  in  nature,  or  inven- 
 tion in  art,  helps  to  speed  the  Gospel, 
 
 Trade,  commerce,  revolution,  exploration, 
 all  prepare  the  way  and  herald  the  ap- 
 proach of  the  heralds  of  the  Cross.  This 
 work  of  preparation  has  been  long 
 going  on.  Soon  it  will  be  complete.  The 
 initiatory  steps  will  have  all  been  taken. 
 Then  a  universal  Pentecostal  season  may  be 
 expected.  Simultaneously,  the  Holy  Spirit 
 will  descend  upon  every  land,  and  "  the 
 ploughman  overtake  the  reaper,  and  the 
 treader  of  grapes,  him  that  soweth  seed." 
 In  that  blessed  day  (the  Lord  hasten  it  in 
 His  time  !)  "who  shall  count  the  dust  of 
 Jacob,  or  the  number  of  the  fourth  part  o! 
 Israel?"  Dr.  Saven. 
 
 CHEISTIANITY— Rejecting. 
 
 You  tell  me  you  cannot  reconcile  all  the 
 discrepancies  which  may  be  detected  in 
 minute  portions  of  Scripture  history,  and 
 that  you  therefore  feel  obliged  to  give  up 
 the  truth  of  Christianity ! 
 
 What  a  "therefore"  is  that!  I  pity 
 your  logic.  Pardon  me,  but  between  the 
 premises  and  the  conclusion  there  is  no 
 connection  in  the  world.  It  is  much  as  if 
 you  said,  you  cannot  demonstrate  the  com- 
 patibility of  all  the  phenomena  of  the  uni- 
 verse with  Diviue  benevolence, — and  there- 
 fore, you  must  become  an  Atheist;  nay,  it 
 is  really  as  absurd  as  if  you  were  to  say 
 that  you  cannot  reconcile  all  the  dis- 
 crepancies of  English  historians,  and  there- 
 fore give  up  the  History  of  England  :  for 
 discrepancies  in  a  history  may  be  numerous 
 and  real,  and  yet  every  important  fact  of 
 it  be  true. 
 
 "  You  cannot  reconcile,"  you  say,  "  all 
 the  discrepancies ;"  aud  I  may  retort, 
 "  Who  asked  you  ?"  Certainly,  I  should 
 not ;  for  I  cannot  reconcile  all  those  dis- 
 crepancies either.  But  as  to  giving  up 
 Christianity  as  divine — or  the  New  Testa- 
 ment, as  the  Word  of  God  on  that  account, 
 — I  should  as  soon  think,  as  some  one  said, 
 in  a  somewhat  similar  case,  "  of  burning 
 down  London  to  get  rid  of  the  bugs." 
 
 H.  Rogers. 
 
 CHEISTIANITY— Security  of. 
 
 The  ark  of  God  was  never  taken  till  it 
 was  surrounded  by  the  arms  of  earthly  de- 
 fenders. In  captivity  its  sanctity  was  suffi- 
 cient to  vindicate  it  from  insult,  and  to 
 lay  the  hostile  fiend  prostrate  on  the 
 threshold  of  his  own  temple.  The  real 
 security  of  Christianity  is  to  be  found  in 
 its  benevolent  morality,  in  its  exquisite 
 adaptation  to  the  human  heart,  in  the 
 facility  with  which  its  scheme  accommo- 
 dates itself  to  the  capacity  of  every  human 
 intellect,  in  the  consolation  which  it  bears 
 to  every  house  of  mourning,  in  the  light 
 with  which  it  brightens  the  great  mystt-ry 
 of  the  grave.  To  such  a  system  it  can 
 bring  no  addition  of  dignity  or  strength. 
 
CHRISTIAHITT. 
 
 159 
 
 that  it  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  common 
 law.  It  is  not  now  for  the  first  time  left 
 to  rely  on  the  force  of  its  own  evidences, 
 and  the  attractions  of  its  own  beauty.  Its 
 sublime  theolog:y  confounded  the  Grecian 
 schools  in  the  fair  conflict  of  reason  with 
 reason.  The  bravest  and  wisest  of  the 
 Cffisars  found  their  arms  and  their  policy 
 unavailing,  when  opposed  to  the  weapons 
 that  were  not  carnal,  and  the  Kingdom 
 that  was  not  of  this  world.  The  victory 
 which  Porphyry  and  Diocletian  failed  to 
 gain  is  not,  to  all  appearance,  reserved  for 
 any  of  those  who  have,  in  this  age,  directed 
 their  attacks  against  the  last  restraint  of 
 the  pnwerful,  and  the  last  hope  of  the 
 wretched.  The  whole  history  of  Christianity 
 shows  that  she  is  in  far  greater  danger  of 
 being  corrupted  by  the  alliance  of  power, 
 than  of  being  crushed  by  its  opposition. 
 Those  who  thrust  temporal  sovereignty 
 upon  her,  treat  her  as  their  prototypes 
 treated  her  Author.  They  bow  the  knee, 
 and  spit  upon  her  ;  they  cry,  "  Hail !"  and 
 smite  her  on  the  cheek  ;  they  put  a  sceptre 
 in  her  hand,  but  it  is  a  fragile  reed ;  they 
 crown  her,  but  it  is  with  thorns;  they 
 cover  with  purple  the  wounds  which  their 
 own  hands  have  inflicted  on  her ;  and  in- 
 scribe magnificent  titles  over  the  cross  on 
 which  they  have  fixed  her  to  perish  in 
 ignominy  and  pain.  Lord  Macaulay. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Soil  for. 
 
 I  have  somewhere  read  of  a  seed  that  is 
 borne  by  the  wind  on  its  downy  wings  from 
 spot  to  spot,  and  never  shoots  out  its  roots 
 until  it  reaches  a  congenial  soil.  When  it 
 alights  on  the  soil  which  suits  it  not,  it 
 shuts  itself  up,  and  sometimes  sleeps  for 
 centuries — sleeps  until  some  propitious  gale 
 will  bear  it  to  a  congenial  resting  place,  and 
 there,  after  a  number  of  ages,  it  will  grow, 
 and  multiply  its  kind  indefinitely.  It  is 
 somewhat  tlius  with  Christianity.  During 
 the  long  middle  ages,  the  heavenly  seed 
 borne  to  the  western  world,  remained  dead 
 upon  the  Papal  soil.  A  breeze  sprung  up, 
 and  wafted  it  to  a  soil  where  it  took  root, 
 and  grew,  and  has  been  growing  ever  since. 
 It  has  been  borne  into  every  heart  in  Chris- 
 tendom ;  but  in  the  majority  of  cases  the 
 soil  is  unpropitious  and  the  seed  remains 
 dead.  We  invoke  no  wind  to  bear  it  else- 
 where, but  we  pray  for  an  alteration  in 
 *  the  soil.  Br.  Thomas. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Spread  of. 
 
 As  there  are  lofty  heights  in  nature 
 which  catch  the  morning  sun  before  it  has 
 risen  in  the  valleys,  and  which  stand  up 
 glowing  in  the  golden  light  when  the 
 shades  of  evening  have  wrapped  these  in 
 deepening  dusky  gloom  ;  so  there  are  coun- 
 tries  in  which  Christianity  has   won  its 
 
 mighty  victories  while  others  yet  remain 
 in  the  bondage  of  heathen  darkne-s  and 
 death.  But,  as  the  sun,  ere  he  has  filled  liis 
 course,  lights  up  every  vale  as  well  as  every 
 height,  so  shall  Christianity,  before  slie  has 
 accomplislied  her  mission,  subdue  the  whole 
 world  to  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Testing. 
 
 A  great  fable  sometimes  encloses  a  great 
 truth.  It  is  an  old  story  of  the  Empress 
 Helena,  how  she  went  to  the  Holy  Land  to 
 find  the  cross.  Excavations  were  made, 
 and  they  found  three  crosses,  but  how  were 
 they  to  know  which  was  the  true  one  ?  So 
 they  took  a  corpse,  and  put  it  upon  one  and 
 another,  and  as  soon  as  the  corpse  touched 
 the  Saviour's  cross  it  started  into  life.  Now 
 you  are  demonstrating  the  Divinity  of 
 Christianity,  and  that  is  how  you  test  it. 
 It  makes  these  dead  men  live.        S.  Coley. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Trying. 
 
 Remember,  that  Christianity  is  not  a 
 new  system  of  theological  reasoning,  nor  a 
 new  assortment  of  phraseology,  nor  a  new 
 circle  of  acquaintance,  nor  even  a  new  line 
 of  meditation — but  a  new  life.  Its  very 
 being  and  essence  is  inward  and  practical ; 
 it  is  not  the  likeness  or  history  of  a  living 
 thing,  it  is  itself  alive !  And  therefore,  to 
 examine  its  evidence  is  not  to  try  Christi- 
 anity ;  to  admire  its  martyrs  is  not  to  try 
 Christianity  J  to  compare  and  estimate  its 
 teachers  is  not  to  try  Christianity;  to  attend 
 its  rites  and  services  with  more  than 
 Mahometan  punctuality  is  not  to  try  or 
 know  Christianity.  But  for  one  week,  for 
 one  day,  to  have  lived  in  the  pure  atmo- 
 sphere of  faith  and  love  to  God,  of  tender- 
 ness to  man  ;  to  rejoice  in  the  felt  and 
 realised  presence  of  Him  who  is  described 
 as  "coming  up  from  the  wilderness,"  sup- 
 porting His  beloved ;  to  have  beheld  earth 
 annihilated  and  heaven  opened  to  the  pro- 
 phetic gaze  of  hope ;  to  have  seen  evermore 
 revealed  behind  the  complicated  troubles  of 
 this  strange,  mysterious  life,  the  unchanged 
 smile  of  an  eternal  Friend,  and  everything 
 that  is  difficult  to  reason  solved  by  that 
 reposing  trust  which  is  higher  and  better 
 than  reason  :  to  have  known  and  felt  this, 
 I  will  not  say  for  a  life,  but  for  a  single 
 blessed  hour,  that,  indeed,  is  to  have  made 
 experiment  of  Christianity. 
 
 Archer  Butler. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— UniversaUty  of. 
 
 It  is  indeed  appointed  that  Christianity 
 should  be  the  religion  of  the  whole  world. 
 A  noble  period  is  marked  out  by  prophecy, 
 "  when  the  knowledge  of  the  earth  shall 
 cover  the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the 
 sea."     But  this  appointment  does  not  take 
 
160 
 
 CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 place,  this  period  does  not  arrive  until 
 Christianity  shall  have  passed  through 
 centuries  of  adversity,  and  its  opponents 
 have  almost  seemed  to  gain  the  upper  hand. 
 Then  I  asli  you,  under  what  imagery  can 
 we  describe  the  long  depression,  and  then 
 the  sudden  and  unlimited  soverei^'nty  of 
 the  religion  of  Christ,  if  not  by  speaking  of 
 that  religion  as  of  a  seed  sown  in  the  earth, 
 apparently  dying  ere  it  yield  a  due  return 
 to  the  husbandman  ?  The  tree  shall  yet 
 rise,  mighty  in  its  trunk,  and  glorious  in 
 the  spreading  of  its  foliage ;  and  there 
 shall  not  be  a  lonely  spot  on  the  surface  of 
 the  globe,  which  is  not  overshadowed  by  the 
 branches  of  the  produce  of  the  mighty 
 grain  of  mustard  seed.  H.  Melvill. 
 
 What  a  world  this  will  be  when  Christi- 
 anity shall  have  realized  its  sublime  mis- 
 sion !  I  rejoice  to  believe  that  that  period 
 will  one  day  coine.  Sin's  thunderstorms 
 will  not  always  beat  on  the  world,  a  celes- 
 tial calmness  will  one  day  settle  on  its 
 brow.  It  will  not  always  be  tossed  about 
 like  a  vessel  in  a  storm  ;  it  will  one  day 
 cast  its  anchor  within  the  vail,  and  rejjose 
 on  the  calm  blue  sea  of  Infinite  love.  It 
 will  not  always  be  a  chaos.  The  centre  of 
 light  is  already  planted  in  its  moral 
 heavens — the  darkness  is  passing  away  and 
 the  morning  is  advancing.  The  work  must 
 proceed.  Every  conflicting  element  shall 
 be  hushed,  every  cloud  sliall  melt  into 
 sunshine,  every  mountain  and  every  valley 
 small  smile  withlifeand blossom  with  beauty. 
 The  whole  shall  grow  radient  with  bright- 
 ness, and  resound  with  the  music  of  heaven. 
 The  great  God  shall  look  down  upon  the 
 moral  world,  as  He  did  on  the  material,  and 
 pronounce  all  things  "  good."  Then,  as  of 
 old,  "  shall  the  morning  stars  sing  together 
 and  the  sons  of  God  shout  aloud  for  joy ;" 
 angels  shall  phime  their  golden  wings,  and 
 cry,  "  The  glorious  work  is  done." 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Value  of. 
 
 We  live  in  the  midst  of  blessings  till  we 
 are  utterly  insensible  of  tlieir  greatness, 
 and  of  the  source  from  which  they  flow. 
 We  speak  of  our  civilization,  our  arts,  our 
 freedom,  our  laws,  and  forget  entirely  hoiv 
 large  a  share  of  all  is  due  to  Christianitg. 
 Blot  Christianity  out  of  the  page  of  man's 
 histoi'y,  and  what  would  his  laws  have 
 been  ?  What  his  civilization  ?  Christianity 
 is  mixed  up  with  our  very  being  and  our 
 daily  life,  there  is  not  a  familiar  object 
 round  us  which  does  not  wear  its  mark, 
 not  a  being  or  a  thing  which  does  not  wear 
 a  d  H'erent  aspect  because  the  light  of 
 (,'hristian  hope  is  on  it,  not  a  law  which 
 lio  s  not  owe  its  trutli  and  gentleness  to 
 Christianity,  not  a  custom  which  cannot  be 
 
 traced  in  all  its  body  and  healthful  parts 
 to  the  Gospel.  liuse. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Valuing. 
 
 There  are  four  criteria  by  which  we 
 determine  the  value  of  an  object : — Raritg, 
 Verdict  of  competent  authorities.  Durability, 
 Usefulness.  First.  Rarity.  This  makes 
 gold  more  valuable  thau  brass  or  iron,  pearls 
 and  diamonds  more  valuable  than  ordinary 
 stones.  In  this  sense  Christianity  is  valu- 
 able. It  is  perfectly  unique.  There  is  no- 
 thing like  it.  Amongst  all  the  systems  of 
 the  world  there  is  but  one  Gospel — amongst 
 all  the  books  but  one  Bible.  "  There  is  no 
 other  name  given,"  &c.  Secondly :  The 
 verdict  of  competent  authorities.  What- 
 ever article  in  the  markets  of  the  world  is 
 pronounced  valuable  by  men  whose  judg- 
 ment is  considered  most  correct  on  such 
 subjects,  derives  at  once  a  value  from  the 
 fact;  the  opinions  of  such  authorities  will 
 invest  almost  any  article,  however  intrinsi- 
 cally worthless  with  a  commercial  value. 
 Intrinsically  worthless  books,  if  praised  by 
 those  who  are  considered  judges  of  litera- 
 ture, will  pass  as  the  most  precious  produc- 
 tions of  genius.  Apply  this  to  Christianity. 
 The  greatest  sages,  the  sublimest  poets,  the 
 purest  saints,  have  all  pronounced  Christi- 
 anity to  be  of  incomparable  value.  They 
 have  felt  with  Paul,  who  said,  "  I  count  all 
 things  but  loss,"  &c.  Thirdly  :  Durability. 
 The  duration  of  an  object  often  gives  it 
 value.  The  thing  of  ephemeral  existence 
 is  not  esteemed  of  much  worth.  The  Gos- 
 pel is  durable.  It  is  the  incorruptible  seed. 
 "  It  is  the  word  of  God  that  endureth  for 
 ever."  Fourthly :  Usefulness.  We  value 
 an  object  according  to  the  service  it  is 
 capable  of  rendering.  Metals  and  plants, 
 animals  and  men,  are  estimated  by  this 
 rule.  What  has  rendered  such  service  as 
 Christianity  ?  We  need  not  speak  of  its 
 intellectual  benefits,  and  show  how  it  has 
 broken  the  monotony  of  thought  and  set 
 the  mind  of  the  world  in  action.  We  need 
 not  speak  of  its  political  benefits,  and  show 
 how  it  has  flashed  and  frowned  upon  in- 
 justice and  tyranny,  and  moulded  govern- 
 ments according  to  the  principles  of  recti- 
 tude. We  need  speak  of  its  social  benefits, 
 and  show  how  it  has  evoked  and  refined  the 
 best  sympathies  of  our  nature,  giving  man 
 a  kindly  interest  in  his  fellow,  and  laid  the 
 foundation  of  social  order  and  progress. 
 We  speak  of  its  spiritual  blessings.  How 
 it  purifies  the  fountains  of  life,  how  it  paci- 
 fies the  guilty  conscience,  how  it  fills  the 
 soul  with  the  sunshine  of  Divine  love,  how 
 it  raises  our  nature  above  the  fear  of  death, 
 and  enchants  it  with  glowing  visions  of  an 
 ever-expanding  and-  brightening  futurity. 
 Take  it  from  us,  and  you  will  freeze  up 
 the  fountains  of  our  spiritual  energy  and 
 blight  the  springing  gems  of  our  hopes, 
 
CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 161 
 
 you  will  turn  our  landscapes  into  deserts,  ' 
 and  our  hemispheres  into  midnight.     Take  i 
 it  from  us  and  what  are  we  ?    Frail  barques  j 
 struggling  with  the  heaving  billows  of  life, 
 without  chart  to  direct  us,  or  a  star  to 
 break  the  darkness  that  enshrouds  us  on 
 the  surging  wave.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY  and  CREATION. 
 
 Over  the  external  and  physical  world 
 Christianity  sheds  a  brilliant  sunshine,  to 
 which  the  natural  eye  of  man  is  blind.  It 
 teaches  us  that  the  world's  mountains  have 
 been  hallowed  by  the  footsteps  and  the 
 prayers  of  incarnate  Deity  ;  that  the  bosom 
 of  its  troubled  lakes  have  calmed  at  His 
 bidding;  that  its  fruits  have  nourished  His  [ 
 frame ;  that  the  sun  veiled  its  face  before 
 His  agony  and  death.  With  all  the  objects 
 of  the  material  universe  the  Christian  con- 
 nects the  life  and  acts  of  the  God-man. 
 That  life  lends  a  dignity  and  worth  to 
 nature,  which  the  Christian's  eye  alone  can 
 estimate.  To  him  the  world  is  the  stage, 
 upon  which  is  performed,  not  merely  the 
 drama  of  creation  and  providential  govern- 
 ment, displaying  the  infinite  power  and 
 wisdom  of  God,  but  the  still  sublimer 
 drama  of  the  conquests  of  the  Prince  of 
 Peace,  and  the  achievements  of  human  re- 
 demption. W.  F.  Surndall. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  HEART. 
 
 Christianity,  as  it  works  in  the  heart,  is 
 mightier  than  it  is  when  explained  and  en- 
 forced in  a  thousand  volumes.  Christianity 
 in  books  is  like  seed  in  the  granary,  dry 
 and  all  but  dead.  It  is  not  written,  but 
 living  characters  that  are  to  convert  the 
 infidel.  The  life  of  good  men,  and  not 
 the  library  of  theologues,  is  the  convert- 
 ing power. 
 
 0  let  me  speak  the  thoughts  of  Christ ! 
 
 And  then  my  words  like  seed  shall  grow 
 
 In  hearts  when  I  am  gone ! 
 
 In  nobler  forms  and  widening  spheres 
 
 To  beautify  and  bless,  shall  they  appear ; 
 
 Harvests  out  of  them  shall  come 
 
 To  help  the  millions  yet  to  be. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY  and  HEATHEN  ETHICS. 
 
 In  regard  of  the  ethical  anticipations  of 
 what  is  given  to  us  in  the  Gospel — the 
 goodly  maxims,  the  striking  precepts,  the 
 memorable  sayings,  which  are  gathered 
 from  the  fields  of  heathen  philosophy,  and 
 then  sometimes  used  to  depress  the  origi- 
 nal worth  of  the  teaching  of  Christ  and 
 His  apostles — I  will  not  urge  here,  and  I 
 have  no  object  in  urging,  though  I  may,  in 
 passing,  remark,  how  many  that  are  some- 
 times adduced  of  these  are  wholly  deceptive 
 as  parallels  to  Christian  truth.  How  often 
 in  their  organic  connection  they  would  be 
 
 very  far  from  containing  that  echo  or  pre- 
 sentiment of  truth,  which  we  deem  we 
 catch  in  them  ;  how  often  they  have  in- 
 deed a  very  different  significance  from  that 
 which  we  first  put  in  tliem,  and  only  after- 
 wards educe  from  them.  Nor  yet  will  I 
 press  how  the  goodliest  maxim  is  indeed 
 nothing,  save  in  its  coherence  to  a  body  of 
 truth  ;  how  a  world  of  such  maxims,  were 
 they  gotten  together,  would  be  only  as  ten 
 thousand  artificial  lamps,  failing  altogether 
 to  constitute  a  day,  and  not  in  the  remotest 
 degree  doing  the  work,  or  supplying  to  the 
 world  the  place  of  a  single  sun. 
 
 archbishop  Trench. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY   and  NATIONAL   PROS- 
 PERITY. 
 
 During  the  last  three  centuries,  to  stunt 
 the  growth  of  the  human  mind,  has  been 
 her  (the  Church  of  Rome's)  chief  object. 
 Throughout  Christendom,  whatever  advance 
 has  been  made  in  knowledge,  in  freedom, 
 in  wealth,  and  in  the  arts  of  life,  has  been 
 made  in  spite  of  her,  and  has  everywhere 
 been  in  inverse  proportion  to  her  power. 
 The  loveliest  and  most  fertile  provinces  of 
 Europe,  have,  under  her  rule,  been  sunk  in 
 poverty,  in  political  servitude,  and  in  in- 
 tellectual torpor,  while  Protestant  coun- 
 tries, once  proverbial  for  sterility  and  bar- 
 barism, have  been  turned  by  skill  and  in- 
 dustry into  gardens,  and  can  boast  of  a  long 
 list  of  heroes  and  statesmen,  philosophers 
 and  poets.  Whoever,  knowing  what  Italy 
 and  Scotland  naturally  are,  and  what,  four 
 hundred  years  ago,  they  actually  were, 
 shall  now  compare  the  country  round 
 Rome  with  the  country  round  Edinbu'-gh, 
 will  be  able  to  form  some  judgment  as  to 
 the  tendency  of  Papal  domination.  The 
 descent  of  Spain,  once  the  first  among  mon- 
 arcliies,  to  the  lowest  depths  of  degradation, 
 the  elevation  of  Holland,  in  spite  of  many 
 natural  disadvantages,  to  a  position  such 
 as  no  commonwealth  so  small  has  evei 
 reached,  teach  the  same  lesson.  W  hoe  vet 
 passes  in  Germany  from  a  Roman  Catholic  ta 
 a  Protestant  Principality ;  in  Switzerland, 
 from  a  Roman  Catholic  to  a  Protestant  Can- 
 ton ;  in  Ireland, from  a  Roman  Catholic  to  a 
 Protestant  County,  finds  that  he  has  passed 
 from  a  lower  to  a  higher  grade  of  civiliza- 
 tion. On  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  the 
 same  law  prevails.  The  Protestants  of  the 
 United  States  have  left  far  behind  them 
 the  Roman  Catholics  of  Mexico,  Peru,  and 
 Brazil.  The  Roman  Catholics  of  Lower 
 Canada  remain  inert,  while  the  whole  con- 
 tinent around  them  is  in  a  ferment  with 
 Protestant  activity  and  enterprise.  The 
 French  have  doubtless  shown  an  energy  and 
 an  intelligence  which,  even  when  misdi- 
 rected, have  justly  entitled  them  to  be 
 called  a  great  people.  But  this  apparent 
 exception,  when  examined,  will  be  found 
 11 
 
162 
 
 CHURCH. 
 
 to  confirm  the  rule  ;  for  in  no  country  that 
 is  called  Roman  Catholic,  has  the  Roman 
 Catholic  Church,  during  several  genera- 
 tions, possessed  so  little  authority  as  in 
 France.  Lord  Macaulay. 
 
 CHURCH— Changes  in  the. 
 
 As  Elisha's  spirit  was  doubled,  so  Saul's 
 spirit  departed.  As  the  Gentiles  become 
 believers,  so  the  Jews  become  infidels. 
 As  Saul  becometh  an  apostle,  so  Judas 
 becoraeth  an  apostate.  As  John  groweth 
 in  the  Spirit,  so  Joash  decayeth  in  the 
 Spirit.  As  Zaccheus  turneth  from  the 
 world,  so  Demas  turneth  to  the  world. 
 As  Lydia's  heart  was  opened,  so  Pharaoh's 
 heart  was  hardened.  Senry  Smith. 
 
 CHURCH— Choosing  a. 
 
 A  man  in  choosing  a  church  with  which 
 to  unite  himself",  ought  to  act  on  the  same 
 principle  as  he  would  in  choosing  a  ser- 
 vant, or  in  choosing  a  house,  or  in  choosing 
 an  hospital— choose  that  which  will  best 
 serve  his  spiritual  interests  in  preparing 
 him  to  glorify  God  on  earth  and  find  his 
 way  to  heaven,  John  Bate. 
 
 CHURCH— Definitions  of  a. 
 
 A  band  of  faithful  men 
 Met  for  God's   worship  in   some  humble 
 
 room. 
 Or,  screened  from  foes  by  midnight's  star- 
 lit gloom. 
 
 On  hill-side  or  lone  glen, 
 To  hear  the  counsels  of  His  holy  word. 
 Pledged  to  each  other  and  their  common 
 Lord. 
 
 These,  few  as  they  may  be. 
 Compose  a  Church,  such  as  in  pristine  age 
 Defied  the  tyrant's  steel,  the  bigot's  rage ; 
 
 For,  when  but  two  or  three, 
 Whate'er  the  place,  in  faith's  communion 
 
 meet, 
 There,  with  Christ  present,  is  a  Church 
 complete.  Anon. 
 
 1.  The  Greek  word  kicXjjffia  denotes  an 
 assembly,  met  about  business,  whether  law- 
 ful  or  unlawful  (Acts  xix,  32,  33).  2.  It 
 is  understood  of  the  collective  body  of 
 Christians,  or  all  those  over  the  face  of  the 
 earth  who  profess  to  believe  in  Christ,  and 
 acknowledge  Him  to  be  the  Saviour  of 
 mankind  :  this  is  called  the  visible  Church, 
 (Ei)h.  iii,  21 ;  1  Tim.  iii,  15;  Eph.  iv,  11, 12). 
 
 3.  By  the  word  Church  also,  we  are  to 
 understand  the  whole  body  of  God's  people, 
 in  every  period  of  timej  this  is  the  in- 
 visible Church.  Those  on  earth  are  also 
 called  the  militant,  and  those  in  heaven 
 the  triumphant  Church,  (Heb.  xii,  23 ; 
 Acts  XX,  28  ;    Eph.  i,  22  ;    Matt,  xvi,  18). 
 
 4.  By  a  particular  Church,  we  understand 
 an  assembly  of  Christians  united  together, 
 and  meeting  in  one  place  for  the  solemn 
 
 worship  of  God.  To  this  agree  the  defi- 
 nition given  by  the  compilers  of  the  thirty- 
 nine  articles  :  "  A  congregation  of  faithful 
 men,  in  which  the  true  word  of  God  is 
 preached,  and  the  sacraments  duly  ad- 
 ministered according  to  Christ's  ordinances, 
 in  all  those  things  that  of  necessity  are 
 requisite  to  the  same."  The  word  is  now 
 used  also  to  denote  any  particular  denomi- 
 nation of  Christians  distinguished  by  par- 
 ticular doctrines,  ceremonies,  &c. ;  as  the 
 Romish  Church,  the  Greek  Church,  the 
 English  Church,  &c,  C.  Buck. 
 
 CHURCH— Destroying  a. 
 
 To  do  this  effectually,  you  must — 
 
 I.  Discourage  the  pastor. 
 
 II.  Discourage  your  fellow-members. 
 
 III.  Destroy  the  confidence  of  the  com- 
 munity. 
 
 I.  To  discourage  the  pastor. 
 
 1.  Absent  yourself  from  one  service 
 every  Sabbath,  or  miss  at  least  one  in 
 three — if  he  is  not  very  strong,  once  in 
 four  times  may  answer. 
 
 2.  Neglect  the  prayer  and  class-meetings. 
 
 3.  Criticise  your  minister  freely ;  praise 
 him  sparingly  j  find  fault  plentifully  ;  pFay 
 for  him  little  or  none. 
 
 4.  If  he  proposes  to  hold  extra  meetings 
 withhold  your  co-operation. 
 
 5.  Give  yoiu'self  no  concern  whether  his 
 salary  is  paid  or  not. 
 
 6.  Never  call  on  him  socially,  or  allow 
 him  to  think  that  his  comfort  or  that  of 
 his  family  is  a  matter  of  any  importance  in 
 your  eyes. 
 
 II.  To  discourage  your  fellow-members. 
 
 1.  Observe  the  directions  given  above. 
 
 2.  Complain  about  everything  they  do 
 and  don't  do. 
 
 3.  Contrive  to  make  yourself  the  head 
 of  a  clique,  and  by  their  assistance  and 
 your  own  industry  keep  the  Church  in  hot 
 water  generally. 
 
 4.  While  doing  this,  lose  no  opportunity 
 to  complain  of  the  bad  treatment  you  are 
 receiving, 
 
 5.  Be  as  much  like  Diotrephes  and  as 
 little  like  Paul  as  you  can. 
 
 6.  Discard  charity  and  candour,  take 
 distrust  to  your  bosom,  and  make  scheming 
 your  specialty. 
 
 III.  To  destroy  the  confidence  of  the 
 community. 
 
 1.  Observe  the  foregoing  directions. 
 
 2.  Tell  the  people  "that  you  are  in  the 
 Church  by  force  of  circumstances,  but  have 
 no  respect  for  the  way  in  which  business  is 
 conducted. 
 
 3.  Publish  the  faults  of  your  brethren, 
 taking  care  to  magnify  them. 
 
 4.  Make  no  eflbrt  to  induce  people  to 
 attend  the  Church. 
 
 5.  Take  no  part  in  the  labours  of  the 
 Sunday  school. 
 
CHURCH. 
 
 163 
 
 6.  Publish  it  on  all  occasions  that  you 
 have  no  confidence  in  the  concern — predict 
 that  it  must  fail — go  down — blow  up — 
 never  can  succeed. 
 
 By  observing  these  directions  faithfully, 
 you  may  have  the  satisfaction,  if  the  Church 
 is  not  unusually  vigorous,  of  witnessing  the 
 fulfilment  of  your  predictions.  Anon. 
 
 CHURCH— Dissentions  in  the. 
 
 That  which  they  say  of  the  pelican,  that 
 when  the  shepherds,  in  desire  to  catch  her, 
 lay  lire  not  far  from  her  nest,  which  she 
 finding,  and  fearing  the  danger  of  her 
 young,  seeks  to  blow  out  with  her  wings, 
 so  long  till  she  burns  herself  and  makes 
 herself  a  prey,  in  an  unwise  pity  to  her 
 young  ;  I  see  morally  verified  in  experience 
 of  those  which,  indiscreetly  meddling  with 
 the  flame  of  dissention  in  the  Church, 
 rather  increase  than  quench  it,  rather  fire 
 their  own  wings  than  help  others.  I  had 
 rather  bewail  the  fire  afar  oft'  than  stir  in 
 the  coals  of  it.  I  would  not  grudge  my 
 ashes  to  it,  if  those  might  abate  the  burn- 
 ing; but  since  I  see  this  daily  increased 
 with  partaking,  I  will  behold  it  with 
 sorrow,  and  meddle  no  otherwise  than  by 
 prayers  to  God,  and  entreaties  to  men ; 
 seeking  my  own  safety,  and  the  peace  of 
 the  Church,  in  the  freedom  of  my  thought, 
 and  silence  of  my  tongue.  £j).  Mall. 
 
 CHURCH— Diversities  in  the. 
 
 As  in  Noah's  ark  there  were  the  clean 
 and  the  unclean,  raven  and  dove,  leopard 
 and  kid,  the  cruel  lion  with  the  gentle 
 lamb  ;  so  in  the  Church  of  Christ  on  earth, 
 you  will  find  the  same  diversities  and 
 differences  of  human  character. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 CHURCH— Divisions  in  the. 
 
 There  are  divisions  in  the  great  king- 
 dom of  creation :  divisions  between  the 
 lands  and  waters;  divisions  between  islands 
 and  continents  ;  divisions  between  con- 
 tinents and  continents  ;  divisions  between 
 vegetation  and  minerals ;  divisions  in 
 birds,  fishes,  creeping  things,  animals  of 
 all  kinds ;  divisions  among  men  ;  and  yet 
 there  are  great  principles,  laws,  and  opera- 
 tions which  unite  them  together,  as  the 
 one  harmonious  workmanship  of  Almighty 
 wisdom  and  power.  So  it  is  in  the  Church 
 of  Christ.  There  are  divisions  in  regard 
 to  disciijline,  forms  of  worship,  creeds  of 
 belief,  means  of  grace,  modes  of  woi-king, 
 names  of  distinction,  places  of  abode, 
 &c. ;  but  beneath  these,  and  of  mox-e  im- 
 portance, there  run  grand  laws  and  elements 
 which  bind  together  the  Church  of  Christ 
 in  one  glorious  body  of  which  He  is  the 
 Head.  tTohn  Bate. 
 
 CHURCH— Divisions  and  Unity  ii  the. 
 Our  divisions  are  neither  fatal  nor  inex- 
 
 plicable. I  allow  that  all  Christians  are 
 not  agreed,  but  are  all  physicians  so  ? 
 Have  we  not  Hydropathists  and  Homceo- 
 pathists,  and  AUopathists  ?  And  yet  if  you 
 are  ill,  you  send  for  a  physician,  because 
 you  feel  that,  with  all  their  outer  diftVr- 
 ences,  there  is  a  real  substratum  of  unity 
 in  them  all.  Are  all  politicians  agreed  ? 
 There  are  Whigs,  and  Tories,  and  Radicals, 
 men  who  are  for  free  trade,  and  men  wlio 
 are  for  protection,  all  holding  their  varied 
 crotchets;  but  the  country  does  not  roll 
 the  less  smoothly  along  the  grooves  that 
 are  assigned  to  it  by  the  constitution ;  we 
 do  not  less  love  our  Queen,  our  constitu- 
 tion, and  our  country,  nor  do  our  soldiers 
 fight  less  bravely.  There  are  differences 
 in  every  department  of  social  life,  but 
 under  all  the  differences  there  is  a  great 
 substratum  of  unity.  Our  Parliament  is 
 always  divided ;  but  let  the  voice  sound  in 
 St.  Stephen's  that  a  hostile  foot  is  upon 
 England's  shores,  and  I  am  certain  we 
 should  not  know  who  was  Whig  and  who 
 was  Tory,  such  would  be  the  energy  and 
 the  unanimity,  and  the  devotedness  of  all. 
 What  does  this  show  ?  That  there  may  be 
 differences  upon  the  surface  of  every  de- 
 partment of  society,  and  yet  there  are 
 great  vital  truths  below.  And  so  with 
 Christianity.  We  know  we  are  at  issue 
 upon  Presbytery,  Episcopacy,  Congrega- 
 tionalism, and  it  is  a  pity  we  quarrel,  and 
 do  not  agree  to  differ  in  such  things;  but 
 we  feel,  nevertheless,  that  underneath  all 
 there  is  a  substratum  of  living,  vital  truth, 
 that  binds  us  into  one  body,  and  makes  us 
 feel  in  moments  of  peril  that  we  are  truly, 
 and  essentially,  and  virtually  one. 
 
 Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 CHURCH— Errors  in  the. 
 
 The  clearest  window  that  ever  was 
 fashioned,  if  it  is  barred  by  spiders'  webs, 
 and  hung  over  with  carcasses  of  insects,  so 
 that  the  sunlight  has  forgotten  to  find  its 
 way  through,  of  what  use  can  it  be  ?  Now, 
 the  Church  is  God's  window ;  and  if  it  is  so 
 obscured  by  errors  that  its  light  is  dark- 
 ness, how  great  is  that  darkness  ! 
 
 -ff.  W.  BeecJier. 
 
 CHURCH— Forms  in  the. 
 
 They  are  valuable  in  their  own  place, 
 and  for  their  own  purposes ;  frames,  as 
 they  are,  to  set  the  picture  in ;  caskets  fur 
 truth's  jewels;  dead  poles,  no  doubt,  yet 
 useful  to  support  living  plants,  and  very 
 beautiful  when  the  bare  stem  is  festooned 
 with  green  leaves,  and  crowned  with  a 
 head  of  flowers.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 CHURCH— Fruitfalness  of  the. 
 
 In  comparing  mount  Zion  with  the  hill 
 of  Bashan,  David  intends  especially  to  point 
 out  that  friutl'ulness  which  reigns  in  the 
 
16d. 
 
 CHURCH. 
 
 Church  of  God;  for  there  spring  up  be- 
 neath the  dew  of  heaven  such  flowers  and 
 plants  as  are  otherwise  not  to  be  found  on 
 earth.  For  where  else  blooms  the  rose 
 of  real  love  to  God  after  the  inner  man  ? 
 Where  else  flourishes  the  sun-flower  of 
 genuine,  childlike,  and  believing  prayer  ? 
 Where  else  the  lily  of  an  undissembled 
 longing  after  heaven,  and  the  floweret  of 
 humility,  and  that  of  childlike  simplicity, 
 and  that  of  patience?  Where  else  shall 
 we  meet,  in  the  wide  garden  of  mankind, 
 with  flowers  like  these,  which  have  origin- 
 ally sprung  from  Paradise  ?  and  how  many 
 things  beside  grow  upon  the  heights  of 
 Zion  ?  There,  medicinal  herbs  against 
 every  disease  perfume  the  air.  There 
 grows  the  balm  of  Gilead,  which  brings 
 eternal  health.  There  flourish  shrubs  of 
 life,  which  yield  a  never-failing  vitality; 
 nor  is  the  plant  wanting  there  which  is  an 
 antidote  to  death.  Enviable  people  who 
 have  obtained  an  inheritance  upon  such  a 
 soil !  Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 CHUECH— Gifts  to  the. 
 
 The  gifts  of  poverty  are  the  richest  gifts 
 to  the  Churches.  I  refer  not  now  to  the 
 widows'  mites,  richer  though  they  be  than 
 all  the  gifts  of  wealth,  but  to  the  gifts 
 richer  even  than  the  widow's  mite.  A  few 
 years  ago,  on  a  wintry  morning,  a  boy  in 
 the  habiliments  of  poverty  entered  an  old 
 school-house  among  our  western  moun- 
 tains and  avowed  to  the  master  his  desire 
 for  an  education.  There  was  poverty 
 hiying  one  of  her  richest  gifts  on  the  altar 
 of  religion.  For  that  boy  was  Jonas  King. 
 On  his  humble  shoemaker's  bench  Carey 
 laid  the  foundation  of  British  Baptist 
 Missions.  John  Newton  found  in  his  con- 
 gregation an  unfriended  Scotch  boy,  whose 
 soul  was  then  glowing  with  new-born  love 
 to  Christ.  He  took  him  to  see  John 
 Thornton,  one  of  those  noble  merchants 
 whose  wealth,  whose  piety,  and  whose 
 beneficence  increase  together.  They  edu- 
 cated him,  and  that  boy  became  Claudius 
 Buchanan,  whose  name  India  will  bless 
 when  the  names  of  Clive  and  Hastings  are 
 forgotten.  John  Bunyan  was  a  gift  of 
 poverty  to  the  Church.  Zwingle  came 
 forth  from  an  Alpine  shepherd's  cabin ; 
 Luther  from  a  miner's  cottage ;  the 
 Apostles,  some  of  them,  from  fishermen's 
 huts.  These  are  the  gifts  of  poverty  to 
 the  Church.  Dr.  J.  Harris. 
 
 The  history  of  the  Church  in  all  ages 
 and  places  teaches  that  the  most  gifted  of 
 her  agents,  in  talents,  graces,  and  useful- 
 ness, both  at  home  and  abroad,  among  the 
 laity  and  ministry,  have  come  forth  from 
 the  walks  of  humble  life.  "  Not  many 
 mighty,  not  many  noble."  John  Bate. 
 
 CHURCH— Going  to. 
 
 Some  go  to  church  just  for  a  walk. 
 Some  go  there  to  laugh  and  talk ; 
 Some  go  there  the  time  to  spend. 
 Some  go  there  to  meet  a  friend ; 
 Some  go  to  learn  the  parson's  name, 
 Some  go  there  to  wound  his  fame ; 
 Some  go  there  for  speculation, 
 Some  go  there  for  observation ; 
 Some  go  there  to  doze  and  nod. 
 But  few  go  there  to  worship  God. 
 
 J.  T.  Watson, 
 CHURCH— Good  People  in  every. 
 
 There  is  not  a  height  on  the  loftiest 
 Apennine  on  which  there  is  not  some 
 blossom  which  the  winter  frost  has  not 
 nipped,  some  floweret  which  the  hurricane 
 has  not  blasted.  There  is  no  desert  with- 
 out an  oasis.  And  so  there  is  not  a 
 Church  or  a  communion  under  heaven  in 
 the  bosom  of  which  there  are  not  here 
 and  there  some  witnesses  that  God  has 
 not  utterly  forsaken  it.  Dr.  Ciminiing. 
 
 CHURCH— Head  of  the. 
 
 At  a  celebrated  battle  there  was  one 
 position  from  which  the  enemy,  after 
 suffering  defeat  in  every  other  part  of  the 
 field,  kept  up  an  unabated  fire.  There,  a 
 huge  twenty-four  pounder  vomited  forth 
 galling  and  continuous  discharges  ;  nor 
 could  our  artillery,  nor  musketry,  nor  rifle- 
 men, silence  it.  "  That  gun,"  said  the 
 commanding  officer,  addressing  the  men  of 
 two  regiments,  "must  be  taken  by  the 
 bayonet.  I  must  have  it;"  adding,  as  he 
 placed  himself  at  their  head,  "  No  firing, 
 and  recollect  that  I  am  with  you."  There 
 needed  no  more.  They  advanced;  and  in 
 a  short  time  they  had  taken  the  gun  and 
 the  position.  Let  the  Church  go  forth  at 
 the  command  of  her  glorious  Hetid,  and 
 there  is  no  position  and  weapon  of  the 
 enemy  but  shall  yield  before  their  united 
 assaults.  Dr.  Cruthrle. 
 
 Christ  alone  is  Head  of  the  Church,  and 
 can  have  no  other  partner  to  share  with 
 Him  in  this  dignity.  He  doth  not  only  by 
 His  authority  govern  it,  but  also  by  His 
 grace  quicken  it ;  so  that  we  live  not,  but 
 Christ  liveth  in  us.  "  Let  us  hold  fast  the 
 Hend,  from  which  all  the  body  by  joints 
 and  bands  having  nourishment  adminis- 
 tered, increaseth  with  the  increase  of  God" 
 (Col.  ii,  19).  T.  Adams. 
 
 As  the  head  of  the  woman  is  the  man ; 
 and  as  the  head  of  a  man  is  his  highest  part, 
 the  seat  of  beauty,  wisdom,  will,  judgment, 
 authority,  intelligence,  so  is  Jesus  Christ 
 the  Head  of  His  Church — her  beauty  of 
 holiness,  her  source  of  life,  wisdom,  unity, 
 law,  peace,  power,  prosperity  ;  without 
 whom    she    could    be    no    Church,    even 
 
CHURCH. 
 
 16C 
 
 though  all  apostles  and  angels,  not  to  say 
 others,  should  combine  to  assume  the  head. 
 John  Hate. 
 CHUECH— History  of  the. 
 
 I  thought  that  the  history  of  the  Church 
 might  be  illustrated  liy  the  course  of  such 
 a  river  (the  Ehone).  Born  above  the 
 clouds ;  dashing  down  the  mountains  in 
 its.  youthful  purity  and  power;  wearing 
 for  itself  channels  in  the  solid  rock ;  over- 
 coming every  obstacle ;  now  tortured  and 
 torn  in  craggy  defiles ;  now  reposing  in 
 some  placid  lake  which  reflects  the  azure 
 and  the  stars  of  heaven  ;  coming  forth 
 from  paradises  of  beauty,  and  in  a  wider 
 field  rolling  through  the  open  country, 
 receiving  indeed,  many  corrupt  admix- 
 tures, yet  purifying  them  more  than  they 
 corrupt  it;  and  though  with  waters,  alas, 
 too  much  mingled  with  earthly  elements, 
 yet  in  a  fuller  tide  than  ever,  spreading 
 fertility  over  the  land  as  it  approaches 
 nearer  and  nearer  the  great  ocean. 
 
 N.  Hall. 
 CHUECH— Holiness  in  the. 
 
 The  Spirit  of  holiness  gives  to  the  Church 
 an  aptness  and  a  grace  in  all  its  movements 
 and  efforts  for  the  conversion  of  the  world. 
 The  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  are  on 
 that  account,  as  well  as  for  the  sweet  odour 
 •with  which  they  perfume  the  Church,  called 
 "  the  unction  of  the  Holy  One."  The  Ago- 
 nistes,  in  the  Grecian  games,  anointed  them- 
 selves with  unguents  in  order  to  attain 
 quickness,  agility,  and  nimbleness  of  action  ; 
 and  this  gave  a  grace  and  beauty  to  their 
 ■various  movements.  Their  achievements 
 ■were  not  only  performed,  but  performed 
 ■well,  -with  a  becoming  propriety,  and  a 
 graceful  elegance,  that  recommended  the 
 movements  to  all  the  spectators.  Many  of 
 our  attempts  in  ■well-doing,  and  especially 
 in  promoting  the  conversion  of  man,  have 
 probably  failed  through  the  want  of  some- 
 thing analogous  to  this  process;  through 
 the  want  of  aptness,  an  adroitness,  a  clever- 
 ness, and  skilfulness  in  the  art  of  doing 
 good.  It  is  not  the  duty  of  bishops  only 
 to  be  apt  to  teach,  but  all  Christians  ought 
 to  be  wise  to  win  souls,  and  of  adroit  and 
 quick  understanding  in  the  fear  of  the 
 Lord. 
 
 Before  the  Agonistes  could  attain  this 
 graceful  agility  and  elegant  adroitness, 
 the  unguent  must  have  pervaded  their 
 frame,  and  not  glistened  in  superficial 
 application.  In  like  manner,  before  the 
 Church  can  acquire  a  grace  in  doing  good, 
 and  in  acting  "  after  the  Spirit,"  the  unc- 
 tion from  the  Holy  One  must  penetrate  all 
 the  muscles  of  its  frame,  and  all  the  mem- 
 bers of  its  body.  Musk  needs  no  books  to 
 establish  the  evidences  of  its  presence,  or 
 to  recommend  it  to  acceptance,  its  own 
 fragrance  is  its  witness  and  its  recommen- 
 
 dation. The  world  has  been  deluged  with 
 books  on  the  evidences  of  Christianity ; 
 what  the  world  needs  is  not  books  on 
 these  evidences,  but  men  who  are  proofs 
 of  them.  When,  instead  of  such  books, 
 it  shall  have  lives  on  the  evidences  of 
 religion,  lives  perfumed  with  the  odour  of 
 holiness,  lives  that  will  adorn  and  recom- 
 mend the  designs  of  the  Church,  it  is  more 
 likely  to  be  captivated  into  subjection  to 
 the  reproofs  of  the  Spirit. 
 
 Br.  T.  W.  Jenlcyn. 
 
 CHUECH— HoHness  of  the. 
 
 The  holiness  of  the  Church  is  like  the 
 holiness  of  the  Spirit ;  it  is  the  tone  of 
 its  entire  character,  the  absence  of  every 
 jarring  and  impairing  detriment,  it  is  its 
 taste  for  such  an  exercise  of  its  virtues  as 
 shall  appear  free  from  their  opposite  sins 
 and  their  semblant  counterfeits.  Ihid. 
 
 CHURCH— Joining  the. 
 
 Do  men  go  to  school  because  they  know 
 so  much,  or  because  they  know  so  little  ? 
 Do  men  go  to  a  physician  because  they  are 
 sick,  or  do  they  wait  until  they  are  well, 
 and  then  go  ?  Yet  to  hear  people  speak  of 
 uniting  with  the  Church  one  would  sup- 
 pose tliat  they  thought  it  their  duty  to 
 stay  out  till  they  were  perfect,  and  then  to 
 join  it  as  ornaments.  They  who  are  weak, 
 but  who  wish  strength;  they  who  are  ig- 
 norant, but  hunger  for  knowledge ;  they 
 who  are  unable  to  go  alone,  and  need  sym- 
 pathy and  society  to  hold  them  up;  they 
 who  are  lame,  and  need  crutches ;  in  short, 
 they  who  know  the  plague  and  infirmity 
 of  a  selfish  heart,  a  worldly  nature,  a  sin- 
 ful life,  and  who  desire  above  all  things  to 
 be  lifted  above  them,  have  a  preparation 
 for  the  Church  ?  If  you  could  walk  with- 
 out limping,  why  use  a  crutch  at  all  ?  If 
 you  are  already  good  enough  why  go  into 
 a  Church  ?  But  if  you  are  so  lame  that  a 
 staff"  is  a  heln,  so  infirm  that  company  and 
 ordinances  will  aid  you,  then  you  have  a 
 right  to  the  fellowship  of  the  Church.  To 
 unite  with  a  Church  is  not  to  profess  that 
 you  are  a  saint,  that  you  are  good,  and 
 still  less,  that  you  are  better  than  oth:^rs. 
 It  is  but  a  public  recognition  of  your  weak- 
 ness and  your  spiritual  necessities.  The 
 Church  is  not  a  gallery  for  the  better  ex- 
 hibition of  eminent  Christians,  but  a  school 
 for  the  education  of  imperfect  ones,  a 
 nursery  for  the  care  of  weak  ones,  an  hos- 
 pital for  the  better  healing  of  those  who 
 need  assiduous  care.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 When  a  man  unites  ■with  the  Church,  he 
 should  not  come  saying,  "  I  am  so  holy, 
 that  I  think  I  must  go  in  amorg  the 
 saints ;"  but,  "  0,  brethren,  I  find  1  am 
 so  weak  and  wicked  that  I  cannot  stand 
 
CHTJECH. 
 
 nloiie;  so,   if  you  can  help  me,  open  the 
 floor  and  let  nie  in."  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHURCH— Light  in  the. 
 
 As  the  windows  of  the  temple  were 
 ]arc;e  within  but  narrow  without,  so  they 
 which  are  within  the  Church  have  greater 
 light  than  they  which  are  without.  They 
 sit  like  Pharaoh  in  the  darkness  of  Egypt, 
 when  the  others  dwell  like  Israel  in  the 
 light  of  Goshen.  Senry  Smith. 
 
 CHURCH— Militant. 
 
 This  is  the  state  of  the  Church  militant ; 
 she  is  like  the  ark  floating  upon  the  waters, 
 like  a  lily  growing  among  thorns,  like  the 
 bush  which  burned  with  fire  and  was 
 not  consumed ;  so  the  city  of  God  is 
 always  besieged  but  never  ruined.        Ihid. 
 
 CHURCH— Militant  and  Triumphant. 
 
 It  resembles  a  city  built  on  both  sides  of 
 a  river.  It  is  militant  on  one  side  and 
 triumphant  on  the  other.  It  is  the  river 
 of  death  which  runs  between.  R.  Hill. 
 
 CHURCH— Mistakes  in  the. 
 
 Do  you  ask,  "  Why  not  do  away  with 
 the  Church,  if  its  members  make  so  many 
 mistakes  ?"  Would  you  take  away  the 
 lighthouse  because  careless  mariners, 
 through  wrong  observations,  run  their 
 ships  high  and  dry  upon  the  shore  ? 
 V\'ould  you  put  out  the  lamp  in  your  house 
 because  moths  and  millers  burn  their  wings 
 in  it  ?     What'would  the  children  do  ? 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 CHURCH— Names  of  the. 
 
 Assembly  of  the  Saints ;  Assembly  of  the 
 ujiright ;  Body  of  Christ ;  Branch  of  God's 
 planting;  Bride  of  Christ;  Church  of  God; 
 Church  of  the  Living  God  ;  Church  of  the 
 first-born ;  City  of  the  Living  God ;  Con- 
 gregation of  saints;  Congregation  of  the 
 Lord's  poor ;  Dove ;  Family  in  heaven  and 
 earth;  Flock  of  God;  Fold  of  Christ; 
 General  assembly  of  the  first-born ;  Golden 
 candlestick ;  God's  building ;  God's  hus- 
 bandry; God's  heritage;  Habitation  of 
 God ;  Heavenly  Jerusalem  ;  Holy  city  ; 
 Holy  mountain ;  Holy  hill ;  House  of  God  ; 
 House  of  the  God  of  Jacob ;  House  of 
 Christ ;  Household  of  God ;  Inheritance  ; 
 Israel  of  God;  King's  daughter;  Lamb's 
 wife ;  Lot  of  God's  inheritance ;  Mount 
 Zion ;  Mountain  of  the  Lord  of  hosts ; 
 Mountain  of  the  Lord's  house ;  New  Jeru- 
 salem ;  Pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth ; 
 Place  of  God's  throne ;  Pleasant  portion  ; 
 Sanctuary  of  God ;  Sister  of  Christ ; 
 Spiritual  house  ;  Spouse  of  Christ;  Strength 
 and  glory  of  God;  Sought  out,  a  city  not 
 forsaken;  Tabernacle;  The  Lord's  por- 
 tion ;  Temple  of  God ;  Temple  of  the  living 
 God  J  Vineyard.  John  Bate. 
 
 CHURCH— Pajrts  in  the. 
 
 This  militant  Church  may  have  many 
 parts ;  as  the  ocean-sea  is  but  one,  yet  dis- 
 tinguished according  to  the  regions  upon 
 which  it  lies;  so  there  is  the  Spanish 
 Ocean,  the  English  Ocean,  the  German 
 Ocean.  There  is  a  Church  in  England,  a 
 Church  in  France,  a  Church  in  Germany ; 
 yet  there  is  but  one  militant  Church.  One 
 sun,  many  beams;  one  kingdom,  many 
 shires  j  one  tree,  many  branches. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 CHURCH— Power  of  the. 
 
 A  thousand  grains  of  powder,  or  a  thou- 
 sand barrels,  if  you  please,  scattered  a 
 grain  in  a  place  and  fired  at  intervals, 
 would  burn  it  is  true,  but  would  produce 
 no  concussion.  Placed  together,  however, 
 in  efiective  position,  they  would  lift  up  a 
 mountain  and  cast  it  into  the  sea.  Even  so 
 the  whole  Church,  filled  with  faith  and  fired 
 by  the  Holy  One  who  gave  the  tongues 
 of  fire  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  will  re- 
 move every  mountain,  fill  up  every  valley, 
 cast  up  the  way  of  the  Lord,  and  usher  in 
 the  jubilee  of  redemption. 
 
 W.  U.  Boardman. 
 
 CHURCH— Preservation  of  the. 
 
 Christ  preserves  His  Church  as  a  spark 
 in  the  ocean,  as  a  flock  of  sheep  among 
 wolves.  That  the  sea  should  be  higher 
 than  the  earth,  and  yet  not  drown  it,  is  a 
 wonder ;  so,  that  the  wicked  should  be 
 so  much  higher  than  the  Church  in  power 
 and  not  devour  it,  is  because  Christ  hath 
 this  inscription  on  His  vesture  and  His 
 thigh.  King  of  Kings.  They  say  lions  are 
 insomnes,  they  have  little  or  no  sleep ;  it  is 
 true  of  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  He 
 never  slumbers  nor  sleeps,  but  watcheth 
 over  His  Church  to  defend  it  (Isa.  xxvii, 
 2,  3),  "  Sing  ye  unto  her,  A  vineyard  of  red 
 wine;  I  the  Lord  do  keep  it:  lest  any 
 hurt  it,  I  will  keep  it  night  and  day."  If 
 the  enemies  destroy  the  Church,  it  must 
 be  at  a  time  when  it  is  neither  night  nor 
 day,  for  Christ  keeps  it  day  and  night. 
 Christ  is  said  to  carry  His  Church,  as  the 
 eagle  her  young  ones  upon  her  wings 
 { Exod.  xix,  4).  The  arrows  must  first  hit 
 the  eagle  before  it  can  hurt  the  young 
 ones,  aud  shoot  through  her  wings ;  the 
 enemies  must  first  strike  through  Christ 
 before  they  can  destroy  His  Church.  Let 
 the  winds  and  storms  be  up,  and  the 
 Church  almost  covered  with  waves,  yet 
 Christ  is  in  the  ship  of  the  Church,  and  so 
 long  there  is  no  danger  of  shipwreck. 
 
 T.  Watson, 
 
 CHURCH— Pruned. 
 
 It  is  the  pruned  Church,  like  the  pruned 
 vine,  that  bears  the  most  precious  clusters; 
 it  is  the  crushed  soul,  like  the  crushed 
 
CHURCH. 
 
 167 
 
 aromatic  plant,  that  is  the  most  fragrant. 
 The  harp  of  David  reserves  its  sweetest 
 notes  for  dirges,  and  the  pencil  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit  draws  its  brightest  pictures  on 
 a  dark  ground.  He  who  is  a  stranger  to 
 suffering  is  a  stranger  to  the  depths  of 
 Divine  mercy,  to  the  heights  of  Divine 
 promise,  to  the  riches  of  religious  joy. 
 ilan  never  appears  more  glorious,  than 
 when  the  prophet  stands  among  lions.  It 
 is  true  greatness,  says  Seneca,  to  have  in 
 one  the  frailty  of  man  and  the  security  of 
 God.  Hence  persecution  is  spoken  of  as  a 
 gift :  "  Unto  you  it  is  given  in  the  behalf 
 ot  Christ  not  only  to  believe  on  Him,  but 
 also  to  suffer  lor  His  sake ;"  and  the  pre- 
 diction of  suffering  is  in  the  clear  words  of 
 the  Master  :  "  in  the  world  ye  shall  have 
 tribulation."  J.  A.  James. 
 
 CHURCH— Quarrels  in  a. 
 
 Any  physician  will  tell  you  that  if  there 
 be  fever  in  the  body,  if  the  pulse  be  120  in- 
 stead of  70  or  80,  the  body  will  waste  and 
 pine  away.  If  there  be  the  fever  of  cease- 
 less quarrels  and  disputations  about  little 
 crotchets  in  a  Church  or  congregation,  in- 
 stead of  growing  it  will  decline;  instead  of 
 advancing  in  its  majestic  mission,  it  will 
 positively  decay,  until  it  die  out,  a  suicide, 
 having  turned  the  weapons  that  ought  to, 
 liave  been  combined  against  the  foe,  against* 
 its  own  bosoui  and  into  its  own  heart. 
 
 Dr.  Cumming. 
 CHURCH— Security  of  the. 
 With  stately  towers  and  bulwarks  strong, 
 
 Unrivalled  and  alone. 
 Loved  theme  of  many  a  sacred  song — 
 God's  holy  city  shone. 
 
 Thus  fair  was  Zion's  chosen  seat, 
 
 The  glory  of  all  lands ; 
 Yet  lairer,  and  in  strength  complete. 
 
 The  Christian  temple  stands. 
 
 The  faithful  of  each  clime  and  age 
 This  glorious  Church  compose  j 
 
 Built  on  a  Rock,  v/ith  idle  rage 
 The  threat'ning  tempest  blows. 
 
 Fear  not ;  though  hostile  bands  alarm, 
 
 Thy  God  is  thy  defence  ; 
 And  weak  and  powerless  every  arm 
 
 Against  Omnipotence.  Anon. 
 
 See  the  gospel  Church  secure, 
 
 And  founded  on  a  Rock  ; 
 All  her  promises  are  sure  ; 
 
 Her  bulwarks,  who  can  shock  ? 
 Count  her  every  precious  shrine; 
 
 Tell,  to  after  ages  tell— 
 Fortified  by  power  divine. 
 The  Church  can  never  fail. 
 
 C.  Wesley. 
 CHURCH— Stability  of  the. 
 
 The  promise  of  perpetual  stability,  in  the 
 
 text  (Matt,  xvi,  19),  is  to  the  Church 
 Catholic;  it  affords  no  secm-ity  to  any 
 particular  church,  if  her  faith  or  her  works 
 should  not  be  found  perfect  before  God. 
 The  time  shall  never  be,  when  a  true 
 church  of  God  shall  not  be  somewhere 
 subsisting  on  the  earth  ;  but  any  individual 
 church,  if  she  fall  from  her  first  love,  may 
 sink  in  ruins.  Of  this,  'listory  furnishes 
 but  too  abundant  proof,  in  the  examples  of 
 churches,  once  illustrious,  planted  by  the 
 Apostles,  watered  with  the  blood  of  the 
 first  saints  and  martyrs,  which  are  now  no 
 more.  Where  are  now  the  seven  Churches 
 of  Asia,  whose  praise  is  in  the  Apocalypse  ? 
 Where  shall  we  now  find  the  successors  of 
 those  earliest  archbishops,  once  stars  in  the 
 Son  of  Man's  right  hand  ?  Where  are 
 those  seals  of  Paul's  apostlesliip,  the 
 Churches  of  Corinth  and  Philippi  ?  Where 
 are  the  Churches  of  Jerusalem  and  Alex- 
 andria ?  But  is  there  need  that  we  resort, 
 for  salutary  warning,  to  the  examples  of 
 remote  antiquity  ?  Alas !  where,  at  this 
 moment,  is  the  Church  of  France?— her 
 altars  demolished — her  treasures  spoiled — 
 her  holy  things  profaned — her  persecuted 
 clergy  and  her  plundered  prelates,  wan- 
 derers on  the  earth  !  Bp.  Sorsley. 
 
 CHURCH— Unchangeable. 
 
 Look  at  a  river.  The  exile  returns  to 
 the  haunts  of  his  early  years,  and  there, 
 emblem  of  the  peace  of  God,  the  river 
 fiows  as  it  flowed  when  his  life  was  young. 
 Tumbling  in  snowy  foam  over  the  same 
 rock,  winding  its  snake-like  way  through 
 the  same  verdant  meadows,  washing  the 
 feet  of  the  same  everlasting  hills,  it  rushes 
 through  the  glen  with  the  impetuous 
 passions  of  a  perpetual  youth,  to  pursue  its 
 course  onward  to  the  ocean  that  lies  glim- 
 mering like  a  silver  rim  around  the  land. 
 A  gray  old  man,  he  seats  himself  on  the 
 bank  where  wild  roses  still  shed  their 
 blossoms  on  a  bed  of  thyme,  and  the 
 crystal  pool  at  his  feet,  there  foaming 
 round  the  old  graystone,  that  bright  danc- 
 ing stream,  as  they  recall  many  touching 
 memories  of  early  childhood,  and  com- 
 panions dead  or  gone,  seem  the  same,  yet 
 they  are  not.  The  liquid  atoms,  the  com- 
 ponent parts  of  the  river  have  been  under- 
 going perpetual  change.  Even  so  it  is 
 with  the  Church  of  Christ.  The  stream  of 
 time  bears  on  to  eternity,  and  the  stream 
 of  grace  bears  on  to  glory  successive  gene- 
 rations, while  the  Church  herself,  like  a 
 river  fed  by  perennial  fountains,  remains 
 unchangeable  in  Christ's  immutability,  in 
 His  immortality  immortal.       Dr.  Q-uthrie. 
 
 CHURCH— Unity  of  the. 
 
 It  is  the  one  spirit  of  Ufe  that  binds  to- 
 gether in  beautiful  unity  the  diversified 
 members  of  the   body.     Take  away  this 
 
CHURCHES— CLEANLINESS. 
 
 spirit  and  the  members  fall  to  pieces  ;  they 
 are  no  longer  one;  decomposition  begins, 
 and  every  clement  separates,  no  longer 
 having  any  principle  of  cohesion  or  union 
 with  the  rest.  So  it  is  the  one  Spirit  .of 
 God  that  binds  in  one  the  great  variety  of 
 Christians,  making  them  the  Church  of 
 Christ.  Destroy  this  Spirit,  and  the  Church 
 divides  and  crumbles  beneath  the  death 
 wand  of  corruption.  John  Bate. 
 
 Christ  has  but  one  Church.  The  second 
 Adam,  like  the  first,  is  the  husband  only  of 
 one  wife.  Just  as  the  Church  cannot  have 
 two  heads,  so  the  one  Head  cannot  have 
 two  bodies:  for  as  that  body  were  a  monster 
 which  had  two  heads,  so  the  head  which  had 
 two  separate  bodies.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 A  large  house  consists  of  a  variety  of 
 materials,  rooms,  and  accommodation;  it 
 was  built  by  a  variety  of  workmen  ;  it  will 
 contain  a  variety  of  persons  in  the  family 
 that  occupy  it.  Yet  it  is  one  building ;  the 
 workmen  had  one  aim  ;  the  family  is  one 
 household.  So  with  the  Church  of  Christ. 
 It  has  many  sections ;  it  is  built  of  many 
 nations,  and  by  many  agencies;  it  exists  in 
 many  ages  ;  but  with  all  this  variety,  there 
 is  only  one  faith,  one  Lord,  one  baptism, 
 one  Spirit,  making  the  one  Church. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 The  body  of  man  has  many  members, 
 dirt'ering  in  size,  use,  and  beauty;  but 
 there  is  only  one  spirit  occupying  it.  The 
 spirit  of  life  which  moves  one  moves  all.  So 
 the  Church  has  many  members,  varying  in 
 gifts  and  graces,  in  degrees  of  life  and  use- 
 fulness ;  but  there  is  only  one  Spirit  per- 
 vading, possessing,  impelling  the  whole. 
 
 Hid. 
 CHURCHES— Formalities  in. 
 
 Many  Churches  are  like  conservatories, 
 in  which  the  members  are  like  a  flower  in 
 a  flower-pot.  There  it  is  in  the  flower-pot, 
 and  it  cannot  get  out.  And  little  sticks  are 
 put  down  beside  it  to  keep  it  in  a  particu- 
 lar position.  And  every  branch  that  at- 
 tempts to  go  beyond  a  given  point  is  in- 
 stantly snipped  of,  in  order  that  the  flower 
 may  assume  an  ideal  shape.  And  the 
 members  of  many  Churches  are  like  gera- 
 niums trained  for  show,  tied  up,  and  con- 
 strained in  root  and  branch  and  stem. 
 There  are  thousands  of  people  in  Churches 
 that  sit  around  in  their  respective  rows, 
 and  take  whatever  nourishment  is  dealt 
 out  to  them,  and  grow  in  just  the  shape 
 as  prescribed  for  them  by  those  that  have 
 them  in  charge,  and  have  no  voice  in  de- 
 termining what  kind  of  structure  shall  be 
 made  of  them.  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CHURCHES— Latent  Power  in  the. 
 
 It   is   impossible   to   over   estimate,   or 
 
 rather,  to  estiuiate  the  power  that  li>^3 
 latent  in  our  Churches.  We  talk  of  the 
 power  that  was  latent  in  steam— latent 
 till  Watt  evoked  its  spirit  from  the  wati  rs, 
 and  set  the  giant  to  turn  the  iron  arras  of 
 machinery.  We  talk  of  the  power  that 
 was  latent  in  the  skies  till  science  climbed 
 their  heights,  and,  seizing  the  spirit  of  the 
 thunder,  chained  it  to  our  surface— abolish- 
 ing distance,  outstripping  the  wings  of 
 time,  and  flashing  our  thoughts  across 
 rolling  seas  to  distant  continents.  Yet 
 what  are  these  to  the  moral  power  that 
 lies  asleep  in  the  congregations  of  our 
 country  and  of  the  Christian  world. 
 
 Dr.  Otithrie. 
 CITY— A. 
 
 A  city  is,  in  one  respect,  like  a  high 
 mountain;  the  latter  is  an  epitome  of  the 
 physical  globe ;  but  its  sides  are  belted  by 
 products  of  every  zone,  fi-om  the  tropical 
 luxuriance  that  clusters  around  its  base  to 
 its  arctic  summit  far  up  in  the  sky.  So  is 
 the  city  an  epitome  of  the  social  world. 
 All  the  belts  of  civilization  intersect  along 
 its  avenues.  It  contains  the  products  of 
 every  moral  zone.  It  is  cosmopolitan,  not 
 only  in  a  national,  but  a  spiritual,  sense. 
 
 Dr.  Chapin. 
 CITY— Life  in  a. 
 
 I  dread  nothing  more  than  to  hear  young 
 men  saying,  "I  am  going  to  the  city."  If 
 they  ask  me,  as  they  often  do  when  I  am 
 travelling  about  the  country,  what  chances 
 there  are  for  a  lawyer  in  the  city,  I  say, 
 "  Just  the  chance  that  a  fly  has  on  a 
 spider's  web ;  go  down  and  be  eaten  up  \" 
 If  they  ask  me  what  chances  there  are  for 
 a  mechanic  in  the  city,  I  sa}%  "Good!  good! 
 there  Death  carries  on  a  wholesale  and  re- 
 tail business  !  The  mechanic  art  flourishes 
 finely  !  Coflin-making  is  admirable  !  Men 
 are  dying  ten  times  as  fast  as  anywhere 
 else  !"  If  a  man's  bones  are  made  of  flint ; 
 if  his  muscles  are  made  of  leather ;  if  he  can 
 work  sixteen  or  eighteen  hours  a  day  and 
 not  wink,  and  then  sleep  scarcely  winking; 
 if,  in  other  words,  he  is  built  for  mere 
 toughness,  then  he  can  go  into  the  city, 
 and  go  through  the  ordeal  which  busincbS 
 men  and  professional  men  are  obliged  to  go 
 through  who  succeed.  The  conditions  of 
 city  life  may  be  made  healthy,  so  fiir  as  the 
 physical  constitution  is  concerned  ;  but 
 there  is  connected  with  the  business  of  the 
 city  so  much  competition,  so  much  rivalry, 
 so  much  necessity  for  industry,  that  I  think 
 it  is  a  perpetual,  chronic,  wholesale  viola- 
 tion of  natural  law.  There  are  ten  men 
 that  can  succeed  in  the  country,  where 
 there  is  one  that  can  succeed  in  the  city. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CLEANLINESS— Recommended. 
 
 Cleanliness  may  be  recommended  under 
 
CLEMENCY— COLLECTION. 
 
 the  three  following;  heads :  as  it  is  a  mark 
 of  politeness  ;  as  it  produces  affection;  and 
 as  it  bears  analogy  to  purity  of  mind. 
 
 First.  It  is  a  mark  oi  i^oUteness ;  for  it 
 is  universally  agreed  upon,  that  no  one  un- 
 adoi-ned  with  this  virture  can  go  into  com- 
 pany without  giving  amanifest  offence.  The 
 diti'erf-nt  nations  of  the  world  are  as  much 
 distinguished  by  their  cleanliness,  as  by 
 their  arts  and  sciences.  The  more  advanced 
 in  civilization,  the  more  they  consult  this 
 part  of  politeness. 
 
 Secondly.  Cleanliness  may  be  said  to  be 
 the  foster-mother  of  ajfecfion.  Beauty 
 commonly  produces  love,  but  cleanliness 
 preserves  it.  Age  itself  is  not  unamiable 
 while  it  is  preserved  clean,  and  unsullied  ; 
 like  a  piece  of  metal  constantly  kept 
 smooth  and  bright,  we  look  on  it  with 
 more  pleasure  than  on  a  new  vessel  that  is 
 cankered  with  rust. 
 
 I  might  further  observe,  that  as  clean- 
 liness renders  us  agreeable  to  others,  so  it 
 makes  us  easy  to  ourselves ;  that  it  is  an 
 excellent  preservative  of  health ;  and  that 
 several  vices  destructive  both  to  body  and 
 mind,  are  inconsistent  with  the  habit  of  it. 
 
 In  the  third  place,  it  bears  a  great  analogy 
 with  j)urUii  of  mind,  and  naturally  inspires 
 refined  sentiments  and  passions.  We  find 
 from  experience,  that  through  the  preva- 
 lence of  custom  the  most  vicious  actions 
 lose  their  horror,  by  being  made  familiar 
 to  us.  On  the  contrary,  those  who  live  in 
 the  neighbourhood  of  good  examjiles,  fly 
 from  the  fii-st  appearance  of  what  is  shock- 
 ing ;  and  thus  pure  and  unsullied  thoughts 
 are  naturally  suggested  to  the  mind  by 
 those  objects  that  perpetually  encompass 
 us,  when  they  are  beautiful  and  elegant  in 
 their  kind. 
 
 In  the  East,  where  the  warmth  of  the 
 climate  makes  cleanliness  more  immediately 
 necessary  than  in  colder  countries,  it  is  a 
 part  of  religion ;  the  Jewish  law  (as  well 
 as  the  Mahometan,  which  in  some  things 
 copies  after  it)  is  filled  with  bathings,  puri- 
 fications, and  other  rites  of  the  like  nature ; 
 and  we  read  several  injunctions  of  this  kind 
 in  the  book  of  Deuteronomy.  Addison. 
 
 CLEMENCY. 
 
 Clemency  is  not  only  the  privilege,  the 
 honour,  and  the  duty  of  a  prince,  but  it  is 
 also  his  security,  and  better  than  all  his 
 garrisons,  forts  and  guards,  to  preserve 
 himself  and  his  dominions  in  safety.  It  is 
 the  brightest  jewel  in  a  monarch's  crown. 
 
 As  meekness  moderates anger,so clemency 
 moderates  punishment. 
 
 That  prince  is  truly  royal  who  masters 
 himself;  looks  upon  all  injuries  as  below 
 him ;  and  governs  by  equity  and  reason, 
 not  by  passion. 
 
 Clemency  is  profitable  for  all ;  mischiefs 
 contemned,  lose  their  force.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 CLEMENCY. 
 
 Two  patricians,  having  conspired  against 
 Titus,  the  Roman  emperor,  were  discovered, 
 convicted,  and  sentenced  to  death  by  the 
 senate;  butthat  noble  prince  having  sentfor 
 them,  admonished  them  in  private  of  their 
 folly  in  aspiring  to  the  empire,  exhorted 
 them  to  be  satisfied  with  the  rank  in  which 
 by  Providence  they  had  been  placed,  and 
 offered  them  anything  else  which  he  had 
 the  power  to  grant.  At  the  same  time,  he 
 despatched  a  messenger  to  the  mother  of 
 one  of  them,  who  was  then  at  a  great  dis- 
 tance and  under  deep  concern  about  the 
 fate  of  her  son,  to  assure  her  that  her  son 
 was  not  only  alive,  but  out  of  danger.  He 
 invited  them  the  same  night  to  his  table  ; 
 and  having,  the  next  day,  placed  them  by 
 him  at  a  show  of  glacliators,  where  the 
 weapons  of  the  combatants  were,  according 
 to  custom,  presented  to  him,  he  desired 
 them  to  survey  them.  Hid. 
 
 CLOUDS— The. 
 
 After  a  heavy  fall  of  rain,  and  when  a 
 gentle  east  wind  was  beginning  to  clear  the 
 sky,  Gotthold  walked  forth  into  the  fields, 
 thanked  his  God  for  the  fertilising  storm, 
 and,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  heavens,  and  be- 
 holding tlie  rolling  clouds,  said  to  himself; 
 My  God,  there  go  the  chariots  in  which  (to 
 use  the  language  of  weak  men).  Thou 
 ridest  forth  to  inspect  Thy  fields  and  gar- 
 dens. Thy  meadows,  forests,  and  plains. 
 Beggars  are  wont  to  run  behind  the  cha- 
 riots of  the  wealty,  and  cry  aloud  for 
 alms.  To  Thee,  0  God,  we  are  all  beggars ; 
 and  when  Thou  ridest  forth  on  Thy  chariot 
 of  clouds,  we  cry  after  Thee,  Give  us  this 
 day  our  daily  bread.  The  clouds  are  also 
 the  pitcher  with  which,  like  a  gardener. 
 Thou  waterest  the  sultry  globe  in  times  of 
 drought.  They  are  the  pipes  by  which 
 Thou  conductest  moisture  into  the  firma- 
 ment, and  thence  causest  it  to  descend  in 
 rain,  and  bless  the  earth.  They  are  Thy 
 storehouse,  richly  filled  with  wine,  beer, 
 oil,  butter,  corn,  and  malt ;  and  Thou  open- 
 est  it  in  Thy  goodness,  and  satisfiest  the 
 desire  of  everything  that  lives.  They  are 
 great  curtains,  which  at  Thy  good  pleasure. 
 Thou  drawest  as  a  covering  over  the  plants, 
 that  they  may  not  be  withered  and  de- 
 stroyed by  the  continuance  of  the  heat. 
 Not  seldom  too  are  they  the  arsenal  in 
 which  Thou  keepest  Thine  artillery  of  thun- 
 der and  lightning,  in  order,  at  set  times, 
 to  strike  the  children  of  men  with  reve- 
 rential awe,  or  inflict  upon  them  some 
 great  punishment.  Gotthold. 
 
 COLLECTION— Making  a. 
 
 Those  who  have  a  thorough  knowledge 
 of  the  human  heart,  will  often  produce  all 
 the  best  effects  of  the  virtues,  by  a  subtle 
 
170 
 
 COLOURS— COMFOET. 
 
 a;vpeal  to  the  vanities  of  those  with  whom 
 they  have  to  do ;  and  can  cause  the  very 
 v.eaknesses  of  our  minds,  indirectly  to  con- 
 tribute to  the  furtherance  of  measures, 
 from  whose  strength  the  powers  of  our 
 minds  would  perhaps  recoil,  as  unequal  and 
 inefficient.  A  preacher  in  the  neighbour- 
 hood of  Blackfriars  (Rev.  Rowland  Hill), 
 not  undeservedly  popular,  had  just  finished 
 an  exhortation  strongly  recommending  the 
 liberal  support  of  a  certain  very  merito- 
 riuus  institution.  The  congregation  was 
 numerous,  and  the  chapel  crowded  to  ex- 
 cess. The  discourse  being  finished,  the 
 plate  was  about  to  be  handed  round  to  the 
 respective  pews,  when  the  preacher  made 
 this  short  address  to  the  congregation : 
 "  From  the  great  sympathy  I  have  wit- 
 nessed in  your  countenances,  and  the  strict 
 attention  you  have  honoured  me  with, 
 tlicre  is  only  one  thing  I  am  afraid  of;  that 
 some  of  you  may  feel  inclined  to  give  too 
 much;  now  it  is  my  duty  to  inform  you,  that 
 justice  though  not  so  pleasant,  yet  should 
 always  be  a  prior  virtue  to  generosity ; 
 therefore,  as  you  will  all  immediately  be 
 waited  upon  in  your  respective  pews  I 
 wish  to  have  it  thoroughly  understood  that 
 no  persons  will  think  of  putting  anything 
 into  the  plate,  who  cannot  pay  their  debts." 
 I  need  not  add,  that  this  advice  pro- 
 duced a  most  overflowing  collection. 
 
 a  Colton. 
 
 The  Romish  Bishop  of  Orleans,  preaching 
 for  the  Rouen  distress,  said  : — "  This  is  no 
 time  for  long  sermons,  but  for  good  works. 
 You  are  all  acquainted  with  the  calamities 
 of  those  whose  cause  I  am  come  here  this 
 day  to  plead  before  you.  Once  upon  a 
 time  a  king,  whose  name  is  still  cherished 
 by  us,  said  to  his  companions  in  arms,  on 
 whom  he  thought  with  reason  he  could 
 rely — '  My  good  friends,  I  am  your  King ; 
 you  are  Frenchmen ;  yonder  are  the  enemy, 
 let  us  march  !"  1  will  not  address  you  in 
 any  other  words  this  day  than  these  :  "I  am 
 your  Bishop  ;  you  are  Christians  ;  yonder 
 are,  not  our  enemies,  but  our  brothers,  who 
 suffer;  let  us  fly  to  their  succour."  The 
 Bishop  then  descended  from  the  pulpit  and 
 made  the  collection  himself,  which  amounted 
 to  15,299  francs.  Anon. 
 
 COLOURS— Emblematic. 
 
 We  find  colours  used  in  a  symbolical  or 
 mystic  sense  ;  and,  until  the  ancient  prin- 
 ciples or  traditions  were  wholly  worn  out 
 of  memory  or  set  aside  by  the  later 
 painters,  certain  colours  were  appropriate 
 to  certain  subjects  and  personages,  and  could 
 not  arbitrarily  be  applied  or  misapplied. 
 In  the  old  specimens  of  stained  glass  we 
 find  these  significations  scrupulously  at- 
 tended to.     Thus : 
 
 White,  represented  by  the  diamond  or 
 
 silver,  was  the  emblem  of  light,  religious 
 purity,  innocence,  virginity,  faith,  joy,  and 
 life.  Our  Saviour  wears  white  after  His 
 resurrection.  In  the  judge  it  indicates  in- 
 tegrity ;  in  the  sick  man  humiUty  ;  in  the 
 woman  chastity. 
 
 Red,  the  ruby,  signified  fire,  divine  love, 
 the  Holy  Spirit,  heat,  or  the  creative  power, 
 and  royalty.  White  and  red  roses  express 
 love  and  innocence,  or  love  and  wisdom. 
 In  a  bad  sense,  red  signifies  blood,  war, 
 hatred,  and  punishment. 
 
 Blue,  or  the  sapphire,  expressed  heaven-, 
 the  firmament,  truth,  constancy,  fidelity. 
 
 Yellow,  or  gold,  was  the  symbol  of  the 
 sun,  of  the  goodness  of  God,  initiation  or 
 marriage,  faith  or  faithfulness.  In  a  bad 
 sense,  yellow  signifies  inconstancy,  jea- 
 lousy, deceit. 
 
 Green,  the  emerald,  is  the  colour  of 
 spring ;  of  hope,  particularly  hope  in  im- 
 mortality ;  and  of  victory,  as  the  colour  of 
 the  palm  or  laurel. 
 
 Violet,  or  the  amethyst,  signified  love 
 and  truth,  or  passion  or  suff'ering. 
 
 Black,  expressed  the  earth — darkness, 
 mourning,  wickedness,  negation,  death — 
 and  was  appropriate  to  the  Prince  of  dark- 
 ness. White  and  black  together,  signify 
 purity  of  life,  and  mourning  or  humiliation. 
 Anon. 
 COMFORT— in  Believing. 
 
 He  came  that  we  might  believe  in  Him, 
 and  that  through  this  faith  we  might  over- 
 come the  world,  with  all  its  temptations, 
 its  fears  and  its  shame,  as  well  as  its  plea- 
 sures and  lusts.  And  0,  what  comfort  can 
 be  like  that  which  it  yields  to  the  broken 
 and  contrite  spirit,  to  feel  that  the  Son  of 
 God  has  taken  away  his  sins, — that,  if  he 
 has  a  true  living  faith  in  Christ,  they  are 
 blotted  out  for  ever,  and  become  as  though 
 they  had  never  been  ?  What  joy,  what 
 peace  can  be  like  this,  to  feel  that  we  are 
 not  our  own,  but  Christ's  ?  that  we  are 
 become  members  of  His  holy  body,  and  that 
 our  life  has  been  swallowed  up  in  His  ? 
 that  we  can  rest  in  His  love  with  the  same 
 undoubting  confidence  with  which  a  child 
 rests  in  the  arms  of  its  mother  ?  that,  if 
 we  believe  in  Him,  we  have  nothing  to  fear 
 about  the  feebleness  and  falling  short  of 
 our  services  ?  for  that  He  will  work  out 
 our  salvation  for  us ;  yea,  that  He  hath 
 wrought  it  out.  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 COMFORT— from  the  Cross. 
 
 Is  it  not  strange,  the  darkest  hour 
 That  ever  dawn'd  on  sinful  earth 
 Should    touch    the    heart    with    softer 
 power 
 For  comfort,  than  an  angel's  mirth  ? 
 That  to  the  Cross  the  mourner's  eye  should 
 
 turn 
 Sooner  than  where  the  stars  of  Christmas 
 burn  ? 
 
COMFORT. 
 
 m 
 
 Sooner  than  where  the  Easter  sun, 
 
 Shines  glorious  on  yon  open  grave. 
 And  to  and  fro  the  tidings  run, 
 
 "  Who  died  to  heal,  is  risen  to  save  ?" 
 Sooner   than   where    upon    the   Saviour's 
 
 friends 
 The  very  Comforter  in  light  and  love  de- 
 scends ? 
 
 Yet  so  it  is  :  for  duly  there 
 
 The  hitter  herbs  of  earth  are  set. 
 Till  temper'd  by  the  Saviour's  prayer. 
 And  with  the  Saviour's  life-blood  wet. 
 They   turn   to  sweetness,   and   drop  holy 
 
 halm. 
 Soft  as  imprison'd  martyr's  death-bed  calm. 
 J.  Keble. 
 
 COMFORT— Divine. 
 
 When  a  man  walketh  in  the  sun,  if  his 
 face  be  towards  it,  he  hath  nothing  before 
 him  but  bright  shining  light,  and  com- 
 fortable heat;  but  let  him  once  turn  his 
 back  to  the  sun,  what  hath  he  before  him 
 but  a  shadow  ?  And  what  is  a  shadow,  but 
 the  privation  of  light,  and  heat  of  the  sun  ? 
 Yea,  it  is  but  to  behold  his  own  shadow, 
 defrauding  himself  of  the  other.  Thus 
 there  is  no  true  wisdom,  no  true  happiness, 
 no  real  comfort  but  in  beholding  the 
 countenance  of  God;  look  from  that  and 
 we  lose  these  blessings  ;  and  what  shall  we 
 gain  ?  a  shadow,  an  empty  image ;  instead 
 of  a  substantial,  to  gain  an  empty  image  of 
 ourselves,  and  lose  the  solid  image  of  God. 
 Yet  this  is  the  common  folly  of  the  world ; 
 men  prefer  this  shadow  before  that  sub- 
 stance, whereas  there  is  not  the  least 
 appearance  of  any  true  comfort  but  in  God 
 only.  Spencer. 
 
 COMFORT— from  God. 
 
 Oh,  Thou !  that  dry'st  the  mourner's  tear, 
 
 How  dark  this  world  would  be. 
 If,  when  deceived  and  wounded  here. 
 
 We  could  not  fly  to  Thee  ! 
 But  Thou  wilt  heal  the  broken  heart. 
 
 Which,  like  the  plants  that  throw 
 Their  fragrance  from  the  wounded  part. 
 
 Breathes  sweetness  out  of  woe. 
 Then    sorrow,    touch'd    by    Thee,    grows 
 bright 
 
 With  more  than  rapture's  ray. 
 As  darkness  shows  us  worlds  of  light 
 
 We  could  not  see  by  day.  T.  Moore. 
 
 COMFORT— for  Mourners. 
 
 "A  bruised  reed  will  He  not  break." 
 Perhaps  the  imagery  may  be  derived  from 
 the  practice  of  the  ancient  shepherds,  who 
 were  wont  to  amuse  themselves  with  the 
 music  of  a  pipe  of  reed  or  straw  ;  and  when 
 it  was  bruised  they  broke  it,  or  threw  it 
 away  as  useless.  But  the  bruised  seed  shall 
 not  be  broken  by  this  Divine  Shepherd  of 
 souls.      The  music  of  broken  sighs   and 
 
 groans  is  indeed  all  that  the  broken  reed 
 can  afford  Him  ;  the  notes  are  but  low, 
 melancholy,  and  jarring  ;  and  yet  He  will 
 not  break  the  instrument,  but  He  will 
 repair  and  tune  it,  till  it  is  fit  to  join  in 
 the  concert  of  angels  on  high ;  and  even 
 now  its  humble  strains  are  pleasing  to  His 
 ears.  President  Davis. 
 
 How  must  yearn 
 Our  Lord's  deep  Heart  of  Love  when  saints 
 are  weeping  ? 
 He  whose  Creative  Breath  first  gave 
 Flowers  unto  Earth,  each  tear  will  save, 
 And  smile  it  to  a  pearl  in  Heaven's  sure 
 keeping.  Anon. 
 
 COMFORT— Power  of. 
 
 But  so  have  1  seen  the  sun  kiss  the  fi'ozen 
 earth,  which  was  bound  up  with  the  images 
 of  death,  and  the  colder  breath  of  the 
 north;  and  then  the  waters  break  from 
 their  enclosures,  and  melt  with  joy,  and 
 run  in  useful  channels  ;  and  the  flies  do  rise 
 again  from  their  little  graves  in  walls,  and 
 dance  a  while  in  the  air,  to  tell  that  there 
 is  joy  within,  and  that  the  great  mother  of 
 creatures  will  open  the  stock  of  her  new 
 refreshment,  become  useful  to  mankind, 
 and  sing  praises  to  her  Redeemer.  So  is 
 the  heart  of  a  sorrowful  man  under  the 
 discourses  of  a  wise  comforter ;  he  breaks 
 from  the  despairs  of  the  grave,  apd  the 
 fetters  and  chains  of  sorrow;  he  blesses 
 God,  and  He  blesses  thee,  and  he  feels  his 
 life  returning  ;  for  to  be  miserable  is  death, 
 but  nothing  is  life  but  to  be  comforted; 
 and  God  is  pleased  with  no  music  from 
 below  so  much  as  in  the  thanksgiving  songs 
 of  relieved  widows,  of  supported  orphans, 
 of  rejoicing  and  comforted,  and  thankful 
 persons.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 Comfort,  like  the  golden  sun. 
 Dispels  the  sullen  shade  with  her  sweet 
 
 influence. 
 And  cheers  the  melancholy  house  of  care. 
 Howe. 
 
 COMFORT— in  Tribulation. 
 
 There  is  an  island  in  a  distant  sea,  from 
 whose  shores  the  fishermen  sail  in  tiny 
 crafts  to  procure  the  treasures  of  the  deep. 
 During  their  absence  thick  mists  often  de- 
 scend and  cover  highland,  clitt",  and  beacon 
 with  so  thick  a  veil,  that  these  hardy 
 mariners  are  left  without  a  mark  by  which 
 to  steer  their  laden  barks.  But  in  these 
 dull  hours  they  are  not  left  to  wander,  un- 
 guided,  on  the  pathless  sea.  When  the 
 time  for  their  return  arrives,  the  women  of 
 the  islet — mothers,  wives,  sisters,  and 
 daughters — descend  to  the  shores  and  raise 
 the  voice  of  song.  Borne  on  the  quiet 
 air,  their  voices  soon  fall  sweetly  on  the 
 ears  of  the  loved  ones  on  the  sea.     Guided 
 
172 
 
 COMFOUT— COKM  ANDMENTS. 
 
 by  the  well-known  sounds,  they  steer  their 
 boats  in  safety  to  the  shore. 
 
 And  thus  to  thee,  0  Christian,  comes  the 
 voice  of  love  from  the  celestial  shore,  as 
 thou  wanderest,  a  bewildered  child  of  tribu- 
 lation, on  the  misty  sea  of  life.  Hearken  ! 
 "  Be  of  good  cheer  !"  is  the  cry  that  greets 
 thee,  it  comes  from  Jesus,  who  has  over- 
 come this  world,  which  is  the  scene  and 
 source  of  your  trials.  His  conquest  of  your 
 adversary'  is  the  pledge  of  your  victory. 
 Therefore,  "  Be  of  good  cheer  I"         Anon. 
 
 COMFOET— Words  of. 
 
 Sweet    as    refreshing    dews    or    summer 
 
 showers, 
 To  the  long  parching  thirst  of  drooping 
 
 flowers ; 
 Grateful    as    fiuming     gales    to    fainting 
 
 swains, 
 And    soft   as   trickling  balm    to  bleeding 
 
 pains, — 
 Such  are  thy  words.  G'a?/. 
 
 COMFORTS— Worldly. 
 
 The  comforts  of  this  world  are  but  like 
 the  treasures  of  snow ;  do  but  take  a  hand- 
 ful of  snow,  and  crush  it  in  your  hands,  it 
 will  melt  away  presently  ;  but  if  you  let  it 
 lie  upon  the  ground,  it  will  continue  for 
 some  tiine:  and  so  it  is  with  the  thingsof  this 
 •world,  if  you  take  the  comforts  of  this  life 
 in  your  hands,  and  lay  them  too  near  your 
 hearts  in  affection  and  love  to  them,  they 
 will  quickly  melt  and  vanish  away  from 
 you  ;  but  if  you  leave  them  in  their  proper 
 place,  and  do  not  set  an  inordinate  aflec- 
 tiou  upon  them,  they  will  continue  the 
 longer  with  you ;  as  if  you  should  line  u 
 garment  with  linen,  it  would  do  very  well, 
 but  if  you  line  it  with  pitch  or  glue,  that 
 will  stick  fast  to  the  body,  and  in  all  likeli- 
 hood soil  both  garment  and  the  man  that 
 wears  it ;  so  when  the  world  is  glued  to  our 
 hearts,  it  spoils  the  comforts  of  all  the 
 mercies  that  we  enjoy ;  and  so  it  may  be 
 said,  that  the  otherwise  lawful  use  of  them 
 is  abused,  when  they  are  either  used  too 
 affectionately  in  making  gods  of  them,  or 
 being  too  eagerly  bent  in  the  gaining  of 
 them.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 The  comforts  we  enjoy  here  below,  are 
 not  like  the  anchor  in  the  bottom  of  the 
 sea  that  holds  fast  in  a  storm  ;  but  like  the 
 flag  upon  the  top  of  the  mast  that  turns 
 with  every  wind.  Christopher  Love. 
 
 COMMANDMENT— Eleventh. 
 
 Doctor  Usher,  having  heard  of  "holy 
 Samuel  Rutherford,"  and  how  the  tender 
 grace  of  his  daily  life  made  his  home  a 
 heaven  on  earth,  resolved,  when  on  a  visit 
 to  Scotland,  to  witness  it  for  himself.  That 
 
 he  might  secfit  in  its  simplicity,  he  assumed 
 the  disguise  of  a  poor  wayfarer,  knocked  at 
 the  door  of  the  manse,  and  asked  for  a 
 night's  shelter.  He  was  welcomed  with 
 primitive  hospitality,  and  when  at  a  certain 
 hour  the  master  came  down  to  pray  and 
 converse  with  his  family  as  all  were  gathered 
 round  the  kitchen  ingle,  his  opening  ques- 
 tion to  the  white-haired  stranger  was, 
 "  How  many  commandments  are  there  ?" 
 "  Eleven,"  was  the  reply  ;  the  listeners  re- 
 garded him  as  almost  a  miracle  of  igno- 
 rance. Before  long,  however,  Rutherford 
 found  that,  like  the  ancient  Hebrew  chief, 
 who,lnreceivingstrangers,had"entertained 
 angels  unawares,"  he  had  now  under  his 
 roof  one  of  the  lights  and  princes  of  sancti- 
 fied intellect.  Keeping  this  discovery  to 
 himself,  he  privately  asked  his  guest  to 
 preach  for  him  on  the  next  day,  which  was 
 the  Sabbath.  The  servants  were  then 
 startled  to  find  their  mysterious  visitor 
 standing  in  the  pulpit — still  more  con- 
 founded were  they  when  he  began  his  ser- 
 mon. Taking  for  his  text,  "  '  A  new  com- 
 mandment give  I  unto  you,  that  ye  love 
 one  another ;  as  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye 
 also  love  one  another ;'  " — "  This,"  said  he, 
 "  may  be  reckoned  the  eleventh  command- 
 ment." C.  Stanford. 
 
 COMMANDMENTS— Advantage  of  the. 
 
 The  commandments  are  preventive  of 
 evil ;  a  curb-bit  to  check  lis  from  sin. 
 "Wliat  mischief  would  we  not  run  into,  if 
 we  had  not  afiliction  to  humble  us,  and 
 the  commandments  to  restrain  us  ?  God's 
 commandments  are  to  keep  us  within 
 bounds ;  the  yoke  keeps  the  beast  from 
 straggling  ;  we  are  to  be  thankful  to  God 
 for  precepts  ;  had  not  He  set  His  com- 
 mandments as  a  hedge  or  bar  in  our  way, 
 we  might  have  run  to  hell  and  never  stopt. 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 COMMANDMENTS— not  Burdensome. 
 
 Cicero  questions  whether  that  can  pro- 
 perly be  called  a  burden  which  one  Ciirries 
 with  delight  and  pleasure.  If  a  man 
 carries  a  bag  of  money  given  him,  it  is 
 heavy,  but  the  delight  takes  off  the  bur- 
 den. When  God  gives  inward  joy,  that 
 makes  the  commandments  delightful.  "  I 
 will  make  them  joyful  in  my  house  of 
 prayer"  (Isa.  Ivi,  7).  Joy  is  like  oil  to 
 the  wheels,  which  makes  a  Christian  run 
 in  the  way  of  God's  commandments,  so 
 that  it  is  not  burdensome.  Ibid. 
 
 What  is  done  with  consent  is  no  burden ; 
 if  a  virgin  gives  her  consent,  the  match 
 goes  on  cheerfully ;  if  a  subject  consent  to 
 his  prince's  laws)  as  seeing  the  equity  and 
 rationality  of  them),  then  they  are  not 
 irksome.  A  regenerate  person  in  his  judg- 
 ment approves,  and  in  his  will  consents  to 
 
COI/IMANDKENTS— COMMUNION. 
 
 173 
 
 God's  commandments,  therefore  tliey  are  [  the  pricks,  has  never  proved  the  sharpness 
 not  burdensome.  T.  Watson,     of  its  thorns.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 COMMANDMENTS— not  Grievous. 
 
 Are  the  commandments  of  Satan  grie- 
 vous to  those  who  are  his  bondsmen  ? 
 Grievous  when  they  hid  them  handle  the 
 wine-cup,  mix  in  the  carnival,  and  gather 
 the  gold  ?  And  why  not  grievous  ?  Are 
 they  not  heavy  with  the  chains  of  the 
 prison-house,  ponderous  with  accumulated 
 penalties;  burdened  with  woe  and  wrath 
 suthcient  to  weigh  down  creation  ?  Yet, 
 to  those  who  obey  them,  they  are  not 
 grievous.  The  inclination  is  towards  obe- 
 dience, and  when  these  meet,  there  cannot 
 be  grievousness.  In  like  manner,  are  the 
 commandments  of  God  grievous  to  those 
 who  are  His  children — grievous  when  they 
 bid  them  follow  after  holiness,  give  them- 
 selves to  prayer,  and  delight  themselves  in 
 charity  ?  And  why  not  grievous  ?  Are 
 they  not  weighty  with  massive  duties ; 
 laden  with  impositions  under  which  the 
 very  giants  in  religion  sink  and  bow 
 down  ?  We  own  it,  yet  we  maintain  that 
 to  those  who  obey  they  are  not  grievous. 
 The  desire  is  towards  obedience  j  the  wish, 
 the  longing,  all  are  towards  obedience. 
 And  if  God,  by  His  grace,  have  brought 
 round  such  a  revolution  of  the  sentimants 
 and  affections,  that  keeping  His  command- 
 ments is  synonymous  with  loving  Him,  you 
 must  show  that  loving  God  is  "  grievous," 
 ere  you  can  show  that  His  commandments 
 are  "  grievous."  And  when  you  can  prove 
 that  men  may  love  what  it  is  grievous  to 
 love,  you  prove  the  absurdity  that  they 
 tnay  desire  what  they  dislike,  and  long 
 after  what  they  loathe.  H.  Meloill. 
 
 COMMANDMENTS— a  Hedge. 
 
 Eeconciliation  to  God  is  like  entering 
 the  gate  of  a  beautiful  avenue,  which  con- 
 ducts to  a  splendid  mansion.  But  that 
 avenue  is  long,  and  in  some  places  it 
 skirts  the  edge  of  dangerous  cliffs,  and, 
 therefore,  to  save  the  traveller  from  fall- 
 ing over  where  he  would  be  dashed  to 
 pieces,  it  is  fenced  all  the  way  by  a  quick- 
 set hedge.  That  hedge  is  the  command- 
 ments. They  are  planted  there  that  we 
 may  do  ourselves  no  harm.  But,  like  a 
 fence  of  the  fragrant  briar,  they  regale  the 
 pilgrim  who  keeps  the  path,  and  they 
 only  hurt  him  when  he  tries  to  break 
 through.  Temperance,  justice,  truthful- 
 ness ;  purity  of  speech  and  behaviour ; 
 obedience  to  parents;  mutual  affection; 
 sanctification  of  the  Sabbath ;  the  reverent 
 worship  of  God;  all  these  are  righteous 
 requirements,  and  in  keeping  them  there 
 is  a  great  reward.  Happy  he  who  only 
 knows  the  precept  in  the  perfume  which  it 
 sheds,  and  who,  never  having  kicked  against 
 
 COMMUNION  OF  SAINTS. 
 
 Believers  being  all  united  to  one  Head, 
 are,  of  course,  through  Him  mutually  re- 
 lated, in  the  same  community  of  spirit, 
 life,  status,  and  covenanted  privileges,  to 
 one  another. 
 
 This  involves  upon  the  part  of  all  be- 
 lievers : 
 
 1.  Reciprocal  obligations  and  offices,  ac- 
 cording to  the  special  gi-ace  vouchsafed  to 
 each.  Like  the  several  organs  of  the  body, 
 all  have  part  in  the  same  general  life,  yet 
 each  has  his  own  individual  difference  of 
 qualification,  and  consequently  of  duty; 
 "  for  the  body  is  not  one  member,  but 
 many"  (1  Cor.  xii,  4—21 ;  Eph.  iv,  11—13), 
 
 2.  They  have  fellowship  in  each  others' 
 gifts  and  complementary  graces,  each  con- 
 tributing his  special  loveliness  to  the  beauty 
 of  the  whole  (Eph.  iv,  15,  16). 
 
 3.  These  reciprocal  duties  have  respect 
 to  the  bodies  and  temporal  interests  of  the 
 brethren,  as  well  as  those  which  concern 
 the  soul  (Gal.  ii,  10;  1  John  iii,  16—18). 
 
 4.  They  have  fellowship  in  faith  and 
 doctrine  (Acts  ii,  42 ;  Gal.  ii,  9). 
 
 5.  In  mutual  respect  and  subordination 
 (Rom.  xii,  10 ;  Heb.  xiii,  17). 
 
 6.  In  mutual  love  and  sympathy  (Rom. 
 xii,  10;  1  Cor.  xii,  26). 
 
 7.  This  fellowship  exists  unbroken  be- 
 tween believers  on  earth  and  in  heaven. 
 There  is  one  "  whole  family  in  heaven  and 
 earth." 
 
 8.  In  glory  this  communion  of  saints 
 shall  be  perfected,  when  "  there  shall  be 
 one  fold  and  one  Shepherd;"  when  all 
 saints  shall  be  one,  as  Father  and  Son  are 
 one  (John  x,  16  ;  xvii,  22).     A.  A,  Hodge. 
 
 COMMUNION    OF    SAINTS— Nature   and 
 Necessity  of. 
 
 1.  The  saints  of  God,  living  in  the 
 Church  of  Christ,  have  communion  with 
 God  the  Father  (1  John  i,  3  ;  James 
 ii,  23). 
 
 2.  They  have  communion  with  the  Son 
 of  God  (1  John  i,  3;  2  John  9;  John 
 xvii,  20—23). 
 
 3.  Thev  have  communion  with  the  Holy 
 Ghost  (Piiil.  ii,  1  ;  2  Cor.  xiii,  14). 
 
 4.  Tliey  have  communion  with  holy 
 angels  (Heb.  i,  14;  Luke  xv,  10;  Matt, 
 xviii,  10). 
 
 5.  They  have  communion  with  all  the 
 saints  living  in  the  same  church  (1  John 
 i,  7;  Eph.  iv.  3;  Rom.  xi,  17,  18;  Col. 
 ii,  19). 
 
 6.  They  have  communion  with  all  the 
 saints  departed  out  of  this  life  and  ad- 
 mitted to  the  presence  of  God  (Heb.  xii, 
 22—24). 
 
 The  communion  of  saints  is  necessary ; — 
 
174 
 
 COMMUinON— COMPANIONS. 
 
 1.  To  excite  and  encourage  us  to  holi- 
 ness of  life  (1  John  i,  6,  7;  Col.  i,  12). 
 
 2.  To  stir  us  up  to  a  proportionate 
 gratitude  unto  God,  and  an  humble  and 
 cheerful  acknowledgment  of  so  great  a 
 benefit. 
 
 3.  To  inflame  our  hearts  with  an  ardent 
 affection  towards  those  saints  which  live, 
 and  a  revert>nt  respect  towards  those  which 
 are  now  with  God. 
 
 4.  To  the  directing  and  enlarging  of  our 
 charity.  Bp.  Fear  son. 
 
 COMMUNION  WITH  CHRIST. 
 
 The  nearer  the  moon  draweth  into  con- 
 junction with  the  sun,  the  brighter  she 
 shines  towards  the  heavens  and  the  earth ; 
 so,  the  nearer  the  soul  draws  into  com- 
 munion with  Jesus  Christ,  the  comelier  it 
 is  in  the  eye  of  the  spouse,  and  the  blacker 
 it  appears  in  the  sight  of  the  world.  He 
 that  is  a  precious  Christian  to  the  Lord,  is 
 a  precious  puritan  to  the  world;  he  that 
 is  glorious  to  a  heavenly  saint  is  odious  to 
 an  earthly  spirit.  But  it  is  a  sign  thou 
 art  an  Egyptian,  when  that  cloud,  which 
 is  a  light  to  an  Israelite,  is  darkness  to 
 thee.  It  is  a  sign  thou  movest  in  a  ter- 
 restrial orb,  wht-n  thou  seest  no  lustre  in 
 such  celestial  lights.  For  my  part,  I  care 
 not  how  I  show  to  the  world,  if  I  shine  to 
 God.  Anon. 
 
 COMMUNION  WITH  GOD— Benefit  of. 
 
 God  is  a  centre  to  the  soul ;  and,  just  as 
 in  a  circle,  what  is  nearest  the  centre  is 
 subject  to  least  motion,  so  the  closer  the 
 soul  is  to  God,  the  less  the  movement  and 
 agitation  to  whi(!h  it  is  exposed.  Make 
 the  experiment  upon  a  level  area :  sink  a 
 staff  into  the  ground,  attach  to  it  a  line, 
 and  around  it  as  a  centre  describe  a  circle 
 of  considerable  extent ;  then  bid  some 
 friend  walk  round  that  circle,  while  you 
 do  the  same  round  another  drawn  at  a 
 short  distance  from  the  staff.  You  will 
 find  that  your  friend  will  have  to  walk 
 long  and  fast  to  accomplish  his  task,  but 
 that  a  few  steps  will  be  enough  for  yours. 
 It  is  the  same  with  the  soul.  The  greater 
 its  distance  from  God  and  from  spiritual 
 and  heavenly  things,  the  wider  the  circuit 
 it  will  have  to  make,  the  faster  it  will  have 
 to  speed  without  knowing  why,  and  the 
 more  will  it  seek,  but  be  unable  to,  rest. 
 He,  however,  who,  by  devotion  and  faith, 
 leve  and  resignation,  keeps  as  near  as  pos- 
 sible to  God,  finds  that  which  his  heart 
 desires.  Gotthold. 
 
 COMMUNION  WITH  GOD— Condition  of. 
 
 Birds  cannot  converse  with  men  unless 
 they  had  a  rational  nature  put  into  them, 
 nor  can  men  converse  with  God  unless, 
 being  made  new  creatures,  they  partake  of 
 the  Divine  nature.     Communion  with  God 
 
 is  a  mystery  to  most ;  every  one  that  hangs 
 about  the  court  doth  not  speak  with  the 
 king  ;  all  that  meddle  with  holy  duties 
 and,  as  it  were,  hang  about  the  court  of 
 heaven,  hath  not  communion  with  God ; 
 it  is  only  the  new  creature  enjoys  God's 
 presence  in  ordinances,  and  sweetly  con- 
 verses with  Him,  as  a  child  with  a  father. 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 COMMUNION  WITH  GOD— Mystery  of. 
 
 How  can  man  recognise  the  voice,  the 
 eye,  the  countenance  of  God  ?  How  is  it 
 possible  to  feel  His  anger,  or  His  favour. 
 His  presence,  or  His  withdrawal  ?  Is  it 
 not  a  mystery  ? 
 
 Yes,  it  is  a  mystery ;  but  it  is  nothins 
 more.  A  mystery  is  a  thing  we  are  most 
 accustomed  to.  I  know  no  one  thing  which 
 I  perfectly  know.  I  know  ten  thousand 
 which  are  full  of  mysteries.  The  nail  of 
 my  finger  is  a  mystery ;  the  fact  is  mani- 
 fest, the  mode  undiscoverable ;  about  my 
 hand  I  can  ask  more  questions  than  all 
 mankind  can  answer;  wrist,  arm,  shoulder, 
 all  have  mysteries ;  as  I  approach  the  heart, 
 the  brain,  what  crowds  of  questions  rise  and 
 are  checked  by  the  known  impossibility  of 
 an  answer  !  If  "  the  way  of  the  Spirit" 
 were  capable  of  perfect  explanation,  the 
 whole  universe  would  be  a  riddle ;  for  why 
 should  that  which  was  so  high  be  fully 
 known,  and  every  common  thing  under 
 our  eye  contain  mysteries  ?  The  mystery 
 involved  in  the  Lord's  communicating  with 
 any  of  His  creatures,  is  far  less  than  that 
 of  our  communicating  one  with  another. 
 He  is  of  infinite  intelligence  ;  He  planted 
 the  ear;  He  gave  man  speech;  for  Him, 
 therefore,  to  communicate  with  any  spirit 
 existing,  must  be  easier  than  for  the  sun 
 to  shine.  W.  Arthur, 
 
 COMPANIONS— Choice  of. 
 
 The  bird  chooses  a  companion  of  its  own 
 kind  and  colour ;  the  fish  shows  a  similar 
 instinct,  and  the  beasts  likewise ;  and  even 
 vegetable  life,  in  many  respects,  evinces 
 the  same  feature.  Should  rational  man  be 
 less  wise  in  the  choice  of  his  companions  ? 
 Be  careful  to  choose  those  which  become 
 you  in  age,  circumstances,  temper,  attain- 
 ments, and  character.  Kemember  the  pro- 
 verb in  your  choice  :  "  He  that  walketh 
 with  wise  men  shall  be  wise ;  but  a  com- 
 panion of  fools  shall  be  destroyed." 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 COMPANIONS  (Bad)— Danger  of. 
 
 That  bad  companions  will  make  us  as 
 bad  as  themselves,  I  do  not  absolutely 
 affirm.  When  we  are  not  kept  from  their 
 vices  by  our  principles,  we  may  be  by  our 
 constitutions ;  we  may  be  less  profligate 
 than  they,  by  being  more  cowardly;  but 
 what  I  advance  as  certain  is,  that  we  can- 
 
COMPANIONS— COMPANY. 
 
 175 
 
 not  be  safe  among  them,  and  that  they  will 
 in  some  degree,  and  may  in  a  very  great 
 one,  hurt  our  morals.  Pythagoras,  before 
 he  admitted  any  one  into  his  school,  in- 
 quired who  weie  his  intimates;  justly  con- 
 cluding that  they  who  could  choose  immoral 
 companions  would  not  be  much  profited  by 
 his  instructions.  Dean  Bolton. 
 
 COMPANIONS  (EvU)— Agency  of. 
 
 Evil  companions  are  the  devil's  agents 
 whom  he  sends  abroad  into  the  world  to 
 debauch  virtue  and  to  advance  his  king- 
 dom, and  by  these  ambassadors  he  effects 
 more  than  he  could  do  in  his  own  person. 
 His  own  shape  and  appearing  would  fright 
 rather  than  allure;  and,  well  as  men  like 
 sin,  did  they  see  the  father  of  it,  they 
 would  not  be  very  fond  of  being  his  chil- 
 dren. But  acting  in  the  children  of  dis- 
 obedience, which  are  of  the  same  flesh  and 
 blood  with  us,  and  creatures  of  the  same 
 shape,  and  from  which  we  have  no  aversion, 
 but  rather  sometimes  a  great  affection  to, 
 the  bait  is  easily  swiillowed.  These  are  his 
 factors,  and  by  these  he  draws  men  into 
 eternal  darkness.  By  these  he  picks  up 
 all  the  good  seed  that  is  sown  in  us,  and 
 infuses  bad  qualities  into  our  better  part. 
 These  laugh  men  into  destruction,  and 
 damn  them  in  kindness.  These  fawn  men 
 into  misery,  and  tickle  them  into  an  eter- 
 nity of  torments.  These  turn  religion  into 
 jests,  and  make  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel 
 matter  of  raillery.  These  are  true  devils, 
 that  delight  in  the  murder  of  souls,  and 
 sinking  into  the  bottomless  pit,  pull  down 
 their  adherents  with  them. 
 
 Anthony  HornecJc. 
 
 COMPANY— Conduct  in. 
 
 Inform  yourself  of  the  characters  and 
 situations  of  the  company  before  you  give 
 way  to  what  your  imagination  may  prompt 
 you  to  say.  There  are  in  all  companies 
 more  wrong  heads  than  right  ones,  and 
 many  more  who  deserve  than  who  like 
 censure.  Should  you,  therefore,  loudly 
 e.\patiate  in  praise  of  a  good  quality  which 
 some  one  in  company  notoriously  wants, 
 or  declaim  against  any  ill  one  with  which 
 others  are  notoriously  infected,  your  reflec- 
 tions, however  general  and  unapplied,  will 
 be  thought  personal  and  levelled  at  those 
 people. 
 
 Cautiously  avoid  talking  of  the  domestic 
 affairs  either  of  yourself  or  of  other  people. 
 Yours  are  nothing  to  them  but  tedious 
 gossip ;  theirs  are  nothing  to  you. 
 
 Remember  that  the  wit,  humour,  and 
 jests  of  most  mixed  companies  are  local. 
 They  may  thrive  very  well  in  that  par- 
 ticular  soil,  but  will  very  seldom  bear 
 transplanting.  Every  company  is  diffe- 
 rently circumstanced,  and  has  its  peculiar 
 cant  and  jargon,  which  may  give  occasion 
 
 to  mirth  and  wit  within  that  circle,  but 
 would  seem  flat  and  insipid  in  any  other, 
 and,  therefore,  will  not  bear  repeating. 
 
 Take  great  care  never  to  repeat  in  one 
 company  what  you  hear  in  another.  Things 
 seemingly  indifferent  may  by  circulation 
 have  much  graver  consequences  than  you 
 would  imagine.  Besides,  there  is  a  general 
 tacit  trust  in  conversation,  by  which  a  man 
 is  obliged  not  to  report  anything  out  of  it, 
 though  he  is  not  immediately  enjoined  to 
 secrecy. 
 
 Not  to  perceive  the  little  weaknesses, 
 and  the  idle  but  innocent  affectations  of 
 the  company,  may  be  allowable  as  a  sort  of 
 polite  duty.  The  company  will  be  pleased 
 with  you  if  you  do,  and  most  probably  will 
 not  be  reformed  by  you  if  you  do  not. 
 
 ChesterfieJd. 
 
 COMPANY— Influence  of. 
 
 For  many  years  of  our  life  we  are  form- 
 ing ourselves  upon  what  we  observe  in 
 those  about  us.  We  learn  not  only  their 
 phrases,  but  their  manners.  The  civility 
 and  courtesy,  which  in  a  well-ordered 
 family  are  constantly  seen  by  its  younger 
 members,  cannot  fail  to  influence  their  de- 
 portment, and,  whatever  their  natural 
 vulgarity  may  be,  will  dispose  them  to 
 check  its  appearance.  Let  the  des^cendant 
 of  the  meanest  cottager  be  placed  from  its 
 infacy  where  he  perceives  every  one  mind- 
 ful of  decorum ;  the  marks  of  his  extraction 
 are  soon  obliterated;  at  least  his  carriage 
 does  not  discover  it.  And  were  the  heir 
 of  a  dukedom  to  be  continually  in  the 
 kitchen  or  stable,  the  young  lord  would 
 soon  be  recognised  only  by  his  clothes  and 
 title;  in  other  respects  he  might  be  taken 
 for  the  son  of  a  groom  or  the  scullion. 
 
 Dean  Bolton. 
 
 COMPANY— Learning  from. 
 
 As  there  is  no  book  out  of  which  a  man 
 may  not  gather  something  for  his  good  ; 
 so  there  is  no  company  so  bad  but  a  wise 
 man  may  learn  something  to  make  him- 
 self better.  So  admirably  hath  God  dis- 
 posed of  the  ways  of  men,  that  even  the 
 sight  of  vice  in  others  is  like  a  warning 
 arrow,  shot  for  us  to  take  heed.  We  should 
 correct  our  own  faults  by  seeing  how  un- 
 comely they  appear  in  others:  who  will 
 not  abhor  a  choleric  passion,  and  a  saucy 
 pride  in  himself,  that  sees  how  ridiculous 
 and  contemptible  they  render  those  who 
 are  infested  with  them  ?         J.  Beaumont. 
 
 COMPANY— love  of. 
 
 Love  of  company  is  a  steady  instinct  of 
 the  young.  This  tendency  forms  a  great 
 part  in  the  economy  of  human  life.  Like 
 many  other  forces  under  the  control  of  a 
 free  moral  agent,  it  is  mighty  for  good  or 
 evil,  according  to  the  direction  in  which  it 
 
176 
 
 COMPANY. 
 
 is  turned.  It  is  the  nature  of  certain  plants, 
 while  they  strike  their  own  independent 
 roots  in  the  ground  for  life,  to  twist  their 
 tendrils  round  other  trees  for  support  to 
 their  In-anches.  To  this  species  in  the 
 animal  department  of  creation  belong  the 
 young  of  human  kind.  Br.  Arnot. 
 
 COMPANY— Good. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Eliot  the  missionary,  by  one 
 of  his  friends,  "  I  was  never  with  him  but 
 I  got.  or  might  have  got,  some  good  from 
 his  company." 
 
 Archbishop  Usher  and  Dr.  Preston  were 
 very  intimate,  and  often  met  to  converse 
 on  learned  and  general  subjects ;  when  the 
 Archbishop  used  commonly  to  say,  "  Come, 
 Doctor,  let  us  have  one  word  about  Christ 
 before  we  part."  O.  tS.  Bowes. 
 
 COMPANY  (Good)— Benefit  of. 
 
 There  is  not  certainly  a  greater  encou- 
 ragement to  real  Holiness,  than  religious 
 society  and  good  examples.  That  inno- 
 cence we  see,  makes  deeper  impressions  on 
 our  hearts  than  that  we  hear  of,  and  our 
 eyes  afford  greater  motives  to  imitation 
 than  our  ears.  A  religious  friend  charms 
 me  into  that  piety  he  embraces,  and  his 
 kindness  instils  his  devotion  into  my  soul. 
 I  am  apt  to  imbibe  his  principles  of  virtue, 
 with  his  kind  expressions;  and  frequent 
 converse  makes  his  goodness  as  familiar  to 
 me  as  his  person.  The  severest  mortitica- 
 tion,  if  I  see  it  performed  by  those  I  love, 
 loses  much  of  its  rigour  and  dismal  aspect, 
 and  becomes  amiable ;  and  uupleasing  a 
 thing  as  self-denial  is,  it  looks  more  easy 
 and  facile  when  he  I  am  intimately  ac- 
 quainted withal,  shows  me  that  it  is  practi- 
 cable, and  it  doth  not  appear  such  a 
 formidable  thing  as  before  it  did. 
 
 Anthonij  Sorneclc. 
 
 "  One  day,  as  I  was  in  the  bath,  a  friend 
 of  mind  put  into  my  hand  a  piece  of  scented 
 clay.  I  took  it,  and  said  to  it,  '  Art  thou 
 musk  or  aml)ergris,  for  I  am  charmed  with 
 thy  perfume  ?'  It  answered,  '  I  was  a 
 despicable  piece  of  clay,  but  I  was  some 
 time  in  the  company  of  the  rose,  and  the 
 quality  of  my  sweet  companion  was  com- 
 municated to  me  ;  otherwise  I  should  only 
 be  a  bit  of  clay,  as  I  appear  to  be.'  " 
 
 Saadi. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Avoiding. 
 
 It  is  better  and  safer  to  ride  alone  than 
 to  have  a  thief's  company ;  and  such  is  a 
 wicked  man,  who  will  rob  thee  of  precious 
 time,  if  he  do  thee  no  more  mischief.  The 
 Nazarites,  who  might  drink  no  wine,  were 
 also  forbidden  to  cut  grapes  whereof  wine 
 is  made.  So  we  must  not  only  avoid  sin  in 
 itself,  but  also  the  causes  and  occasions 
 thereof,  amongst  which  bad  company  (the 
 
 lime  twigs  of  the  devil)  is  the  chicfest, 
 especially  to  catch  those  natures  which, 
 like  the  good-fellow  planet  Mercury,  are 
 most  swayed  by  others.  Spencer. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Caution  against. 
 
 Judge  Butler,  when  in  the  company  of  a 
 young  gentleman  of  sixteen,  cautioned  him 
 against  being  led  astray  by  the  example 
 or  persuasion  of  others,  and  said,  "  If  I  had 
 listened  to  the  advice  of  some  of  those  who 
 called  themselves  my  friends  when  I  was 
 young,  instead  of  being  a  Judge  of  the 
 King's  Bench,  I  should  have  died  long  ago 
 a  prisoner  in  the  King's  Bench." 
 
 K.  Arvine. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Contamination  of. 
 
 We  are  informed  by  chemists  that  one 
 grain  of  iodine  will  give  colour  to  7000 
 times  its  own  weight  of  water.  One  indul- 
 gence in  bad  company  is  enough  to  com- 
 municate much  of  its  contagion  to  your 
 moral  being.  If  you  handle  pitch  with 
 your  bare  hand,  it  will  adhere  for  days  or 
 weeks,  so  the  connection  which  you  may 
 form  with  bad  company,  will  pollute  you 
 in  a  way  which  a  whole  life  may  not  suffice 
 to  remove.  John  Bate. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Dispersing. 
 
 The  Ilev.  John  Elliot  was  once  asked  by 
 a  pious  woman  who  was  vexed  with  a 
 wicked  husband  and  bad  company  fre- 
 quently infesting  her  house  on  his  account, 
 what  she  should  do  ?  "  Take/'  said  he,  "  the 
 Holy  Bible  into  your  hand  when  bad  com- 
 pany comes  in,  and  that  will  soon  drive 
 them  out  of  the  house."  K.  Arvine. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Excuse  for. 
 
 A  young  man,  a  professor  of  religion, 
 dressed  himself  elaborately  for  a  ball. 
 "  Can  you  reconcile  it  with  your  views  of 
 duty  ?"  asked  his  room-mate. 
 
 "  I  am  going  from  a  sense  of  duty,"  said 
 the  young  man. 
 
 "  Does  your  copy  of  the  Bible  read,  '  be 
 ye  conformed  to  this  world  ?'  " 
 
 "  No,  but  I  go  because  it  will  give  me  an 
 opportunity  of  speaking  with  some  in  re- 
 gard to  their  salvation." 
 
 "  We  are  never  to  transgress  a  positive 
 command  that  we  may  do  good." 
 
 "Something  must  be  done  for  the  fashion- 
 able portion  of  society.  We  can  do  nothing 
 for  them  if  we  never  come  in  contact  with 
 them." 
 
 Theyoung  man  went  totheball.  Wliether, 
 at  the  intervals  of  dancing  he  spent  his 
 time  in  inviting  the  thoughtless  to  serious 
 reflection,  and  in  warning  sinners  to  flee 
 from  the  wrath  to  come,  I  do  not  know. 
 The  strong  probability  is  that  he  did  not. 
 
 The  above  fact  is  a  striking  illustration 
 of  the  excuse  made  by  many  for  transgress- 
 
COMPANY-  COMPASSION. 
 
 177 
 
 ing  the  law,  "Be  not  conformed  to  this 
 world."  In  the  case  thus  stated,  the  un- 
 soundness of  the  excuse  is  very  clearly  seen. 
 It  is  no  less  unsound  in  cases  where  the  ab- 
 surdity is  less  clearly  apparent.  The  real 
 motive  is  a  love  of  the  world — the  loveof  sin : 
 the  excuse  is  a  mere  pretence.  "  Be  not  de- 
 ceived ;  God  is  not  mocked  :  whatsoever  a 
 man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 
 
 Anon. 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Influence  of. 
 
 What  you  learn  from  bad  habits  and 
 in  bad  society,  you  will  never  forget,  and 
 it  will  be  a  lasting  pang  to  you.  I  tell  you 
 in  all  sincerity,  not  as  in  the  excitement  of 
 speech,  but  as  I  would  confess  and  have 
 confessed  before  God,  I  would  give  my  right 
 hand  to-night  if  I  could  forget  that  which 
 I  have  learned  in  evil  society — if  I  could 
 tear  from  my  remembrance  the  scenes 
 which  I  have  witnessed,  the  transactions 
 which  have  taken  place  before  me.  You 
 cannot,  I  believe,  take  away  the  effect  of  a 
 simple  impure  thought  that  has  lodged  and 
 harboured  in  the  heart.  You  may  pray 
 against  it,  and,  by  God's  grace,  you  may 
 conquer  it,  but  it  will,  through  life,  cause 
 you  bitterness  and  anguish.  J.  Gouc/h. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Keeping. 
 
 In  the  year  1832,  died  in  Essex,  England, 
 under  very  painful  circumstances,  a  young 
 man  who  had  once  promised  to  be  happy 
 and  useful.  He  was  apprenticed  to  a  re- 
 spectable shopkeeper,  who  insisted  on  his 
 always  being  at  home  by  a  certain  hour  in 
 the  evening.  For  some  time  he  appeared 
 very  attentive  to  his  business,  and  was 
 useful  to  his  master ;  but  he  unhappily  ac- 
 quired the  habit  of  walking  about  the 
 streets  of  an  evening,  and  soon  after  formed 
 very  impi-oper  connections  at  a  public-house. 
 He  was  seriously  admonished,  and  at  times 
 appeared  to  feel  the  impropriety  of  his 
 conduct,  but  the  sins  he  cherished  hardened 
 his  heart,  and  his  irregularities  became 
 confirmed.  At  length,  his  master  on  re- 
 turning from  a  journey,  heard  complaints 
 of  his  conduct,  which  led  him  to  threaten 
 that  unless  his  conduct  was  altered,  he 
 would  cancel  his  indentures.  He  now  felt 
 that  his  sins  were  hastening  him  to  the 
 ruin  against  which  he  had  often  been 
 warned ;  he  had  lost  alike  the  confidence 
 of  his  master  and  his  parents.  Stung  by 
 the  convictions  of  his  guilt  he  repaired  to 
 his  room,  when  he  knew  that  he  would  be 
 expected  at  dinner,  and  committed  suicide; 
 thus  rushing  into  the  presence  of  his  Judge 
 uncalled,  and  every  way  unprepared.  Who 
 can  conceive  the  acuteness  of  his  anguish, 
 when  he  found  himself  in  the  presence  of 
 that  God  whose  laws  he  had  trampled  under 
 his  feet,  but  from  whose  wrath  he  found  it 
 impossible  to  escape !  K.  Arvine. 
 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Law  against. 
 
 An  ancient  historian,  mentioning  the 
 laws  which  Charondas  gave  the  Thurians, 
 says  :  "  He  enacted  a  law  with  reference  to 
 an  evil,  on  which  former  lawgivers  had  not 
 animadverted — that  of  keeping  bad  com- 
 pany. As  he  conceived  that  the  morals  of 
 the  good  were  sometimes  quite  ruined  by 
 their  dissolute  acquaintance ;  that  vice  was 
 apt,  like  an  infectious  disease,  to  spread  it- 
 self and  extend  its  contagion,  he  expressly 
 enjoined,  that  none  should  engage  in  any 
 intimacy  or  familiarity  with  immoral  per- 
 sons ;  appointed  that  an  accusation  might 
 be  exhibited  for  keeping  bad  company ; 
 and  laid  a  heavy  fine  on  such  as  were  con- 
 victed of  it."  Dean  Bolton. 
 COMPANY  (Bad)— Power  of. 
 
 Bad  company  is  like  a  nail  driven  into  a 
 post,  which,  after  the  first  and  second  blow, 
 may  be  drawn  out  with  little  difficulty ; 
 but  being  once  driven  up  to  the  head,  the 
 pincers  cannot  take  hold  to  draw  it  out, 
 but  which  can  only  be  done  by  the  de- 
 struction of  the  wood.  St.  Augustine. 
 
 COMPANY  CWoiidly)— Christian  conduct  in. 
 
 A  pious  officer  of  the  army,  travelling 
 through  the  Mahratta  country,  was  asked 
 
 by  Judge  D ,  a  religious  gentleman, 
 
 to  accompany  him  to  a  public  dinner,  at 
 which  the  commanding  officer  of  the  dis- 
 trict, with  all  his  staff,  and  various  other 
 public  characters  were  expected  to  meet. 
 
 "I  expressed  a  wish  to  be  excused," 
 says  the  officer,  "  as  I  had  no  relish  for  such 
 entertainments,  and  did  not  think  that 
 much  either  of  pleasure  or  profit  was  to  be 
 derived  from  them."  His  reply  was, — 
 "  While  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  attend  on 
 such  an  occasion,  I  certainly  have  as  little 
 pleasure  in  it  as  you  have.  But  there  is 
 one  way  in  which  1  find  I  can  be  present  at 
 such  meetings,  and  yet  receive  no  injury 
 from  them.  I  endeavour  to  conceive  to 
 myself  the  Lord  Jesus  seated  on  the  oppo- 
 site side  of  the  table,  and  to  think  what  He 
 would  wish  me  to  do  and  to  say,  when 
 placed  in  such  a  situation,  and  as  long  as  I 
 can  keep  this  thought  alive  on  my  mind,  I 
 find  I  am  fi-ee  from  danger."       K.  Arvine. 
 
 COMPASSION— Definition  of. 
 
 Compassion  is  that  species  of  afllection 
 which  is  excited  either  by  the  actual  dis- 
 tress of  its  object,  or  by  some  impending 
 calamity,  which  appears  inevitable.  It  is  a 
 benevolent  sorrow  for  the  sufferings  or 
 approaching  misery  of  another.  The  ety- 
 mology of  the  word  expresses  this  idea 
 with  strict  propriety,  as  it  signifies  suffer- 
 ing with  the  object.  C.  Buck. 
 
 COMPASSION— Nature  of. 
 
 Compassion  is  the  sense  of  or.r  own  mis- 
 12 
 
178 
 
 COMPASSION— CONFESSION. 
 
 fortunes  in  those  of  another  man.  It  is  a 
 wise  foresight  of  the  disasters  that  may 
 befal  us,  which  induces  us  to  assist  others, 
 in  order  to  engage  them  to  return  it  on 
 like  occasions ;  so  that  the  services  we  do 
 the  unfortunate  are  in  reality  so  many  an- 
 ticipated kindnesses  to  ourselves. 
 Compassion  proper  to  mankind  appears  ; 
 Which  nature  witnessed  when  she  lent  us 
 
 tears, 
 To  show  by  pitying  looks  and  melting  eyes. 
 How  with  a  sufiering  friend  we  sympa- 
 thise. 
 Who  can  all  sense  of  others'  ills  escape. 
 Is  but  a  brute,  at  best,  in  human  shape. 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 COMPASSION— Nobility  of. 
 
 Compassion  is  an  emotion  of  which  we 
 ought  never  to  be  ashamed.  Graceful, 
 particularly  in  youth,  is  the  tear  of  sym- 
 pathy and  the  heart  that  melts  at  the  tale 
 of  woe.  We  should  not  permit  ease  and 
 indulgence  to  contract  our  affections  and 
 wrap  us  up  in  a  selfish  enjoyment ;  but  we 
 should  accustom  ourselves  to  think  of  the 
 distresses  of  human  life,  of  the  solitary  cot- 
 tage, the  dying  parent,  and  the  weeping  or- 
 phan. Nor  ought  we  ever  to  sport  with 
 pain  and  distress  in  any  of  our  amuse- 
 ments, or  treat  even  the  meanest  insect 
 with  wanton  cruelty.  Dr.  Blair. 
 
 COMPREHENSION— Importance  of  a  clear. 
 The  habit  of  clearly  comprehending  what 
 you  hear  and  what  you  read  is  a  valuable 
 attainment ;  a  loose  and  careless  way  of 
 reading,  or  of  listening  to  a  speaker,  ex- 
 poses us  to  the  liability  of  making  number- 
 less mistakes.  I  knew  one,  so  careless  in 
 this  respect,  that  without  the  slightest 
 intention,  he  was  always  misrepresenting 
 the  information  that  reached  him.  If  he 
 heard  of  an  event  that  occurred  seven 
 years  before,  he  would  repeat  it  as  an  oc- 
 currence of  yesterday.  If  he  read  in  the 
 newspaper,  that  an  Irish  pavier,  in  a  fit 
 of  passion,  had  stabbed  an  English  brick- 
 layer, it  was  as  likely  as  not,  that  a  few 
 minutes  after,  he  would  represent  the 
 stabber  to  be  an  English  pavier,  and  the 
 suti'erer  to  be  an  Irish  bricklayer.  Then 
 again,  he  had  an  appetite  to  change  units 
 into  tens,  and  hundreds  into  thousands, 
 and  possessed,  in  sliort,  a  fatal  facility  to 
 misapprehend  and  misrepresent,  always, 
 when  told  of  his  error,  satisfying  himself 
 with  the  remark,  that  he  knew  it  was 
 "  something  of  that  sort."       O.  Mogridge. 
 
 CONCEIT— Naturalness  of. 
 
 Little  localised  powers,  and  little  narrow 
 streaks  of  specialised  knowledge,  are  things 
 men  are  very  apt  to  be  conceited  about. 
 Nature  is  very  wise,  but  for  this  encourag- 
 
 ing principle  how  many  small  talents  and 
 little  accomplishments  would  be  neglected. 
 Talk  about  conceit  as  much  as  you  like,  it 
 is  to  the  human  character  what  salt  is  to 
 the  ocean,  it  keeps  it  sweet  and  renders  it 
 endurable.  Say,  rather,  it  is  like  the  na- 
 tural unguent  of  the  sea-fowl's  plumage, 
 which  enables  him  to  shed  the  rain  which 
 falls  on  him,  and  the  wave  in  which  he 
 dips.  When  one  has  had  all  his  conceit 
 taken  out  of  him,  when  he  has  lost  all  his 
 illusions,  his  feathers  soon  soak  through, 
 and  he  will  fly  no  more.  I  say  that  conceit 
 is  just  as  natural  a  thing  to  human  minds 
 as  a  centre  is  to  a  circle.  But  little- minded 
 people's  thoughts  move  in  such  small 
 circles,  that  five  minutes'  conversation  gives 
 you  an  arc  enough  to  determine  their  whole 
 curve.  An  arc  in  the  movement  of  a  large 
 intellect  does  not  difier  sensibly  from  a 
 straight  line.  Dr.  Holmes. 
 
 CONCENTRATION— Power  of. 
 
 Every  man  should  aim  to  do  one  thing 
 well.  If  he  dissipate  his  attention  on 
 several  objects,  he  may  have  excellent 
 talents  entrusted  to  him,  but  they  will  be 
 entrusted  to  no  good  end.  Concentrated 
 on  his  proper  ofjject  they  might  have  a 
 vast  energy;  but  dissipated  on  several 
 they  will  have  none.  jB.  Cecil, 
 
 Many  things,  having  full  reference 
 To  one  concent,  may  work  contrariously  j 
 As  many  arrows,  loosed  several  ways. 
 Fly  to  one  mark  ; 
 
 As  many  several  ways  meet  in  one  town ; 
 As  many  fresh  streams  run  in  one  self  sea; 
 As  many  lines  close  in  the  dial's  centre  ; 
 So  many  a  thousand  actions,  once  afoot. 
 End  in  one  purpose,  and  be  all  well  borne 
 Without  defeat.  Shakespeare. 
 
 CONDESCENSION— Definition  of. 
 
 Condescension  is  that  species  of  benevo- 
 lence which  designedly  waives  the  sup- 
 posed advantages  of  birth,  title,  or  station, 
 in  order  to  accommodate  ourselves  to  the 
 state  of  an  inferior,  and  diminish  that 
 restraint  which  the  apparent  distance  is 
 calculated  to  produce  in  him.  It  is  en- 
 joined on  the  Christian  and  is  peculiarly 
 ornamental  to  the  Christian  character 
 (Rom.  xii,  16).  C.  BucTc. 
 
 CONFESSION  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 To  confess  Christ  is  to  receive  Him  as 
 our  Master,  own  Him,  stand  by  Him  and 
 His  cause,  and  sutler  for  Him,  if  needs  be, 
 when  others  are  despising  and  rejecting 
 Him. 
 
 We    should    confess    Him    personally; 
 
 believingly;  fully;    at  all   times;  freely; 
 
 in    our    families ;     in    our     business ;    in 
 
 I  the  church;  in  company;   with  humility, 
 
CONFESSION. 
 
 179 
 
 firmness,  courage,  perseverance,  despite  all 
 hindrances,  from  our  own  selves,  from  re- 
 latives, from  so-called  friends,  from  the 
 world. 
 
 Peter  and  John  confessed  Christ  before 
 the  Sanhedrim ;  so  did  Stephen.  Paul 
 confessed  Him  everywhere,  even  in  court, 
 before  Felix,  Festus,  Agrippa,  &c.  How 
 the  martyrs  and  reformers  confessed  Christ 
 in  the  world's  blackest  darkness  and  most 
 tormenting  persecutions !  How  then, 
 should  we  confess  Him  in  these  days  of 
 peace,  liberty,  and  progress  ?      John  Bate. 
 
 The  chaplain-general  related  an  incident 
 of  a  young  soldier  who  on  one  occasion 
 had  consulted  him  upon  a  question  of 
 Christian  duty.  "  Last  night,"  said  the 
 young  mnn,  "  in  my  barrack,  before  going 
 into  bed,  I  knelt  down  and  prayed  in  a  low 
 voice,  when  suddenly  my  comrades  began 
 to  throw  their  boots  at  me,  and  raised  a 
 great  laugh."  "  Well,"  replied  the  chap- 
 lain, "  but  suppose  you  defer  your  prayer 
 till  you  get  into  bed ;  and  then  silently 
 lift  up  your  heart  to  God  ?  "  A  week  or 
 two  afterwards,  the  young  soldier  called 
 again.  "  Well,"  said  the  chaplain ;  "  you 
 took  my  advice,  I  suppose  ?  How  has  it 
 answered  ?  "  "  Sir,"  he  answered,  "  I  did 
 take  your  advice  for  one  or  two  nights; 
 but  I  began  to  think  it  looked  rather  like 
 denying  my  Saviour  ;  and  I  once  more 
 knelt  at  my  bedside,  and  prayed  in  a  low 
 whisper  as  before."  "And  what  fol- 
 lowed ?  "  "  Not  one  of  them  laughs  now, 
 sir,  the  whole  fifteen  kneel  and  pray,  too." 
 "  I  felt  ashamed,"  added  the  chaplain-gene- 
 ral in  narrating  the  story,  "  of  the  advice  I 
 had  given  him.  That  young  man  was  both 
 wiser  and  bolder  than  myself."  Anon. 
 
 CONFESSION  OF  SIN— Cause  of. 
 
 Learn  what  produced  confession.  It 
 was  mercy.  The  promise  is,  "  Whoso  con- 
 fesseth  and  forsaketh  his  sins  shall  have 
 mercy."  That  promise  was  in  substance 
 made  before  any  sinner  confessed,  other- 
 wise there  never  would  have  been  on  earth 
 any  confession  of  sin.  That  promise  has 
 power.  It  touches  a  sinner  while  he  is 
 dead,  and  hard,  and  still  as  a  stone — it 
 touches  and  moves  him.  It  touches  his 
 heart,  and  makes  it  fiow  down  like  water 
 in  confession  ;  it  touches  his  life,  and  leads 
 him  into  the  paths  of  righteousness.  Had 
 there  been  no  such  gracious  otter  from  God, 
 there  would  have  been  no  such  submissive 
 surrender  by  man. 
 
 This  is  a  circle,  you  say.  The  sinner 
 who  confessed  obtained  mercy,  and  that 
 very  mercy  caused  the  sinner  to  confess. 
 So  it  is ;  and  it  is  like  God.  All  the 
 worlds  are  globes,  and  all  their  paths  are 
 circles.  His  dispensations  circulate.  All 
 good  comes   forth  from  Himself,   and  all 
 
 glory  returns  to  Himself.  His  mercy  dis- 
 played, broke  the  stony  heart,  and  caused 
 the  confession  to  flow  j  the  confession 
 flowing,  opened  the  way  for  mercy  to  enter. 
 If  I  have  not  a  broken,  contrite  heart, 
 God's  mercy  will  never  be  mine;  but  if 
 God  had  not  manifested  His  mercy  in 
 Christ,  infinite  and  free,  I  could  never  have 
 a  broken,  contrite  heart.  Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 CONFESSION  OF  SIN— General. 
 
 A  man  will  confess  sins  in  general,  but 
 those  sins  which  he  would  not  have  his 
 neighbour  know  for  his  right  hand,  which 
 bow  him  down  with  shame  like  a  wind- 
 stricken  bullrush,  those  he  passes  over  in 
 his  prayer.  Men  are  willing  to  be  thought 
 sinful  in  disposition ;  but  in  special  acts 
 they  are  disposed  to  praise  themselves. 
 They  therefore  confess  their  depravity,  and 
 defend  their  conduct.  They  are  wrong  in 
 general,  but  right  in  particular. 
 
 E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CONFESSION  OF  SIN— Nature  of. 
 
 It  should  be  free,  particular,  full,  peni- 
 tential, earnest,  accompanied  with  heartfelt 
 hatred  to  sin,  supplication  for  mercy,  for- 
 saking sin,  and  an  implicit  faith  in  Christ 
 for  the  forgiveness  of  the  same.  John  Bate. 
 
 He  that  cries  to  have  sin  taken  away 
 acknowledgeth  that  it  lies  upon  him.  A 
 full  confession,  not  of  many,  but  of  all  sins, 
 either  actually  committed,  or  habitually 
 comprised  in  our  body  of  sin.  As  he  in 
 the  comedian  said,  that  he  had  invited  two 
 guests  to  dinner,  Philocrates  and  Philo- 
 crates,  a  single  man,  but  a  double  eater; 
 so,  in  examination  of  ourselves,  we  shall 
 every  one  find  sins  enough  in  himself  to 
 denominate  him  a  double  and  a  treble 
 sinner.  A  free  confession,  not  as  Pha- 
 raoh's, extorted  upon  the  rack  ;  nor  as  that 
 of  Judas,  squeezed  out  with  anguish  and 
 horror,  but  ingenuous  and  penitent,  arising 
 from  the  purpose  of  a  pious  heart,  that 
 cometh  like  water  out  of  a  spring,  with 
 voluntary  freeness ;  not  like  water  out  of  a 
 still,  which  is  forced  with  fire. 
 
 Bp.  Rei/nolds. 
 
 CONFIDENCE— in  Darkness. 
 
 Though  the  mariner  sees  not  the  pole- 
 star,  yet  the  needle  of  the  compass  which 
 points  to  it  tells  him  which  way  he  sails. 
 Thus  the  heart  that  is  touched  with  the 
 loadstone  of  Divine  love,  trembling  with 
 godly  fear,  and  yet  still  looking  towards 
 God  by  fixed  believing,  interprets  the  fear 
 by  the  love  in  the  fear,  and  tells  the  soul 
 that  its  course  is  heavenward,  towards  the 
 haven  of  eternal  rest.  Leighton. 
 
 CONFIDENCE— Exercise  of. 
 
 Let  us  have  a  ciu-e  not  to  disclose  our 
 
180 
 
 CONFIDENCE— CONSCIENCE. 
 
 hearts  to  those  who  shut  up  theirs  against 
 us.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 Trust  him  with  little  who,  without 
 proofs,  trusts  you  with  everything,  or,  when 
 he  has  proved  you,  with  nothing. 
 
 Lavater. 
 CONFIDENCE— in  God. 
 
 There  is  an  excellent  story  of  a  young 
 man,  who  was  at  sea  in  a  mighty  raging 
 tempest,  and  when  all  the  passengers  were 
 at  their  wits'-end  for  fear,  he  only  was 
 merry  ;  and  when  he  was  asked  the 
 reason  of  his  mirth,  he  answered,  "  That 
 the  pilot  of  the  ship  was  his  father,  and 
 he  knew  his  father  would  have  care  of 
 him."  The  great  and  wise  God,  He  is  our 
 Father.  He  is  Pilot,  He  sits  at  the  stern; 
 and  though  the  ship  of  the  Church  or 
 State  he  in  a  sinking  condition,  yet  be  of 
 good  comfort,  our  Pilot  will  have  care  of 
 us,  Spencer. 
 
 "  What  do  you  do  without  a  mother  to 
 tell  your  troubles  to  ?"  said  a  child  who 
 had  a  mother  to  one  whose  mother  was  dead. 
 
 "  Mother  told  me  whom  to  go  to  before 
 she  died,"  answered  the  little  orphan.  "  I 
 go  to  the  Lord  Jesus.  He  was  mother's 
 friend,  and  He  is  mine." 
 
 The  other  replied,  "Jesus  Christ  is  up 
 in  the  sky ;  He  is  far  away,  and  has  a  great 
 many  things  to  attend  to  in  heaven.  It  is 
 not  likely  He  can  stop  to  mind  you." 
 
 "  I  do  not  know  about  that,"  said  the 
 orphan ;  "  all  I  know  is,  He  says  He  will ; 
 and  that  is  enough  for  me." 
 
 The  orphan  was  right.  God's  ear  is  open 
 to  babes  and  sucklings  as  to  young  men 
 and  fathers.  Anon. 
 
 CONFIDENCE— in  Jesus. 
 
 Not  seldom,  clad  in  radiant  rest 
 
 Deceitfully  goes  forth  the  morn  j 
 Not  seldom  evening  in  the  west 
 
 Sinks  smilingly  forsworn. 
 The  smoothest  seas  will  sometimes  prove 
 
 To  the  confiding  bark  untrue ; 
 And  if  she  trust  the  stars  above, 
 
 They  can  be  treacherous  too. 
 The  umbrageous  oak,  in  pomp  outspread, 
 
 Full  oft  when  storms  the  welkin  rend, 
 Draws  lightning  down  upon  the  head 
 
 It  promised  to  defend. 
 But  Thou  art  true,  incarnate  Lord ! 
 
 Who  did  vouchsafe  for  man  to  die ; 
 Thy  smile  is  sure.  Thy  plighted  word 
 
 No  change  can  falsify  ! 
 I  bent  before  Thy  gracious  throne. 
 
 And    asked  for    peace    with    suppliant 
 knee ; 
 And  peace  was  given, — nor  peace  alone. 
 
 But  faith,  and  hope,  and  ecstasy. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 CONFIDENCE— Partial. 
 
 All  confidence  which  is  not  absolute  and 
 entire  is  dangerous ;  there  are  few  occa- 
 sions but  where  a  man  ought  either  to  say 
 all,  or  conceal  all ;  for  how  little  soever  you 
 have  revealed  of  your  secret  to  a  friend, 
 you  have  already  said  too  much  if  you 
 thinlv  it  not  safe  to  make  him  privy  to  all 
 particulars.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 CONFIDENCE— Self . 
 
 The  confidence  we  have  in  ourselves 
 creates  a  great  part  of  that  trust  which  we 
 have  in  others.  The  greatest  part  of  our 
 confidence  proceeds  fi-om  a  desire  either  to 
 be  pitied  or  admired.  IhiA. 
 
 Confidence  in  one's  self  is  the  chief  nurse 
 of  magnanimity;  which  confidence,  not- 
 withstanding, doth  not  leave  the  care  of 
 necessary  furniture  for  it ;  and  therefore, 
 of  all  the  Grecians,  Homer  doth  ever  make 
 Achilles  the  best  armed.  Sidney. 
 
 CONFLICT— Encouragement  in. 
 
 There  is  a  touching  fact  related  in  the 
 history  of  a  Highland  chief  of  the  noble 
 house  of  M'Gregor,  who  fell,  wounded  by 
 two  halls,  at  the  battle  of  Prestonpans. 
 Seeing  their  chief  fall,  the  clan  wavered, 
 and  gave  the  enemy  an  advantage.  The 
 old  chieftain,  beholding  this  effect  of  his 
 disaster,  raised  himself  up  on  his  elbow, 
 while  the  blood  gushed  in  streams  from  his 
 wounds,  and  cried  aloud — "  I  am  not  dead, 
 my  children ;  I  am  looking  at  you  to  see 
 you  do  your  duty." 
 
 These  words  revived  the  sinking  courage 
 of  his  brave  Highlanders.  There  was  a 
 charm  in  the  fact  that  they  still  fought 
 under  the  eye  of  their  chief.  It  roused 
 them  to  put  forth  their  mightiest  energies  ; 
 and  they  did  all  that  human  strength  could 
 do  to  stem  and  turn  the  dreadful  tide  of 
 battle. 
 
 And  is  there  not  a  more  powerful  charm 
 for  thee,  0  Christian,  in  the  fact,  that  you 
 contend,  in  the  battle-field  of  life,  under 
 the  eye  of  your  Saviour  ?  Wherever  you 
 are — however  oppressed  by  foes — however 
 exhausted  by  the  stern  strife  with  evil— the 
 eye  of  Christ  is  fixed  most  lovingly  upoQ 
 thee.  Anon. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Christian. 
 
 What  is  conscience  in  the  Christian 
 sense  ?  It  is  that  faculty  of  the  soul 
 which,  by  the  assistance  of  the  grace  of 
 God,  sees  at  one  and  the  same  time,  1. 
 Our  own  tempers  and  lives,  the  real  nature 
 and  quality  of  our  thoughts,  words,  and 
 actions.  2.  The  rule  by  which  we  are  to 
 be  directed ;  and,  3.  The  agreement  or  dis- 
 agreement therewith.  To  express  this  a 
 little  more  largely  :  Conscience  implies, 
 first,  the  faculty  a  man  has  of  knowing 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 181 
 
 himself, — of  discerning,  Ijoth  in  general  and 
 in  particular,  his  own  tempers,  thoughts, 
 words,  and  actions.  But  this  it  is  not 
 possible  for  him  to  do  without  the  assist- 
 ance of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Otherwise  self- 
 love,  and  indeed  every  other  irregular 
 passion,  would  disguise,  and  wholly  conceal 
 him  from  himself.  It  implies,  secondly, 
 a  knowledge  of  the  rule  whereby  he  is  to 
 be  directed  in  every  particular,  which  is 
 no  other  than  the  written  Word  of  God. 
 Conscience  implies,  thirdly,  a  knowledge 
 that  all  his  thoughts,  words  and  actions, 
 are  conformable  to  that  rule.  In  all  these 
 offices  of  conscience,  the  unction  of  the 
 Holy  One  is  indispensably  needful.  With- 
 out this,  neither  could  we  clearly  discern 
 our  lives  or  tempers;  nor  could  we  judge 
 of  the  rule  whereby  we  are  to  walk,  or  of 
 our  conformity  or  disconformity  to  it. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Definitions  of. 
 
 Conscience,  then,  is  that  faculty  where- 
 by we  are  at  once  conscious  of  our  thoughts, 
 words,  and  actions,  and  of  their  merit  or 
 demerit,  of  their  being  good  or  bad,  and 
 consequently  deserving  either  praise  or 
 censure.  And  some  pleasure  generally  at- 
 tends the  former  sentence,  some  uneasiness 
 the  latter.  But  this  varies  exceedingly, 
 according  to  education,  and  a  thousand 
 other  circumstances.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 Conscience  is  the  centre  of  the  soul,  to 
 which  all  moral  good  and  evil  has  a  ten- 
 dency; it  is  an  internal  supervisor  and 
 guardian  which  a  man  always  carries  in 
 his  bosom.  W.  Bates. 
 
 Conscience  is  the  testimony  or  secret  in- 
 ternal judgment  of  the  soul  approving  its 
 actions  which  it  judges  to  be  good  or  re- 
 proaching itself  with  the  commission  of 
 those  which  it  judges  to  be  evil.  Consci- 
 ence is  a  natural  principle  which  deter- 
 mines on  the  good  or  ill  tendency  of  our 
 actions.  Cahnet. 
 
 Conscience  is  a  Latin  word  (though  with 
 an  English  termination),  and  according  to 
 the  very  notation  of  it  imports  a  double  or 
 joint  knowledge ;  to  wit,  one  of  a  divine 
 law  or  rule,  and  the  other  of  a  man's  own 
 action ;  and  so  is  properly  the  application 
 of  a  general  law  to  a  particular  instance  of 
 practice.  Br.  South. 
 
 Conscience  signifies  that  knowledge 
 which  a  man  hath  of  his  own  thoughts  and 
 actions;  and  because,  if  a  man  judgeth 
 fairly  of  his  actions  by  comparing  them  with 
 the  law  of  God,  his  mind  will  approve  or 
 condemn  him;  this  knowledge  or  conscience 
 may  be  both  an  accuser  and  a  judge. 
 
 Dean  Swift. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Definitions  of. 
 
 There  is  a  principle  of  reflection  in  men 
 by  which  they  distinguish  between,  approve 
 and  disapprove,  their  own  actions.  We 
 are  plainly  constituted  such  sort  of  creatures 
 as  to  reflect  upon  our  own  nature.  The 
 mind  can  take  a  view  of  what  passes  with- 
 in itself,  its  propensions,  aversions,  passions, 
 aflections,  as  respecting  such  objects  and  in 
 such  degrees  ;  and  of  several  actions  conse- 
 quent thereupon.  In  this  survey  it  ap- 
 proves of  one  and  disapproves  of  another, 
 and  towards  another  it  is  aff'ectedin  neither 
 of  these  ways,  but  is  quite  indiff'erent. 
 This  principle  in  man,  by  which  he  ajjproves 
 or  disapproves  his  heart,  temper,  and  ac- 
 tions, it  is  called  conscience ;  and  this  is  the 
 strict  sense  of  the  word,  though  sometimes 
 it  is  used  to  take  in  more.  Bp.  Butler. 
 
 It  cannot  be  a  distinct  power  of  the  soul, 
 or  a  state  in  which  all  souls  may  be  expected 
 to  discover  themselves, — it  is  nothing  but 
 the  conception  a  man  takes  of  religious 
 duty,  the  judgment  of  his  mind  on  what 
 involves  the  relations  which  unite  him  to 
 his  Maker.  Br.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 Conscience  as  a  facjulty  includes  a  moral 
 sense,  or  the  power  of  discerning  the  dis- 
 tinction between  right  and  wrong  ;  which, 
 combining  with  the  understanding,  or 
 faculty  of  comparing  and  judging,  judges 
 of  the  right  or  wrong  of  our  own  moral 
 dispositions  and  voluntary  actions,  and  of 
 the  dispositions  and  voluntary  actions  of 
 other  free  agents.  A.  A.  Hodye. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Disturbed. 
 
 As  the  ant-hill  when  stirred  sets  in  motion 
 its  living  insects  in  every  direction,  so  the 
 conscience  of  the  sinner,  disturbed  by  the 
 Spirit  or  judgments  of  God,  calls  up  before 
 its  vision  thousands  of  deeds  which  fill  the 
 soul  with  agony  and  woe.  M'  Cosh. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Explained. 
 
 "  Conscience,"  a  solemn  word,  if  there  be 
 such  in  the  world.  Now  there  is  not  one 
 of  us  whose  Latin  will  not  bring  him  so  far 
 as  to  tell  him  that  this  word  is  from 
 "con"  and  "  scire."  But  what  does  tliat 
 "  con "  intend  ?  "  Conscience "  is  not 
 merely  that  which  I  know,  but  that  which 
 I  know  with  some  one  else;  for  this 
 prefix  cannot,  as  I  think,  be  esteemed 
 superfluous,  or  taken  to  imply  merely  that 
 which  I  know  vjith  or  to  myself.  That 
 other  knower  whom  the  word  implies  is 
 God,  His  law  making  itself  known  and  felt 
 in  the  heart ;  and  the  work  of  "  conscience  " 
 is  the  bringing  of  each  of  our  acts  and 
 thoughts  as  a  lesser,  to  be  tried  and  mea- 
 sured by  this  as  a  greater,  the  word  grow- 
 ing out  of  anddeclaring  that  awful  duplicity 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 of  our  moral  being  which  arises  from  the  | 
 presence  of  God  in  the  soul — our  thoughts 
 by  the  standard  which  that  presence  sup- 
 plies, and  us  the  result  of  a  comparison 
 with  it  "accusing  or  excusing  one  another." 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Fearful. 
 
 Two  travellers  put  up  for  the  night  at  a 
 tavern.  Early  in  the  morning  they  ab- 
 sconded without  reckoning  with  their 
 host,  also  stealing  from  him  a  bag  of 
 beans.  A  few  years  after  they  passed 
 that  road  in  company  again.  Again 
 they  asked  for  lodgings  at  the  same  inn. 
 The  identical  landlord  was  yet  at  his  post. 
 In  the  evening  the  landlord  was  busy  in 
 one  corner  of  the  bar-room,  talking  in  a 
 suppressed  voice  with  one  of  his  neighbours, 
 about  a  swarm  of  bees.  His  two  dishonest 
 guests  were  seated  in  another  i^art  of  the 
 room,  and  indistinctly  hearing  the  talk 
 about  bees,  one  says  to  the  other,  "  Did  he 
 not  say  beans  ?"  "  I  think  he  did,"  was 
 the  reply;  and  quickly  they  were  missing. 
 K.  Arvine, 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Good  and  Bad. 
 
 There  is  no  friend  so  good  as  a  good  con- 
 science. There  is  no  foe  so  ill  as  a  bad  con- 
 science. It  makes  us  either  kings  or 
 slaves.  A  man  tliac  hath  a  good  con- 
 science, it  raiseth  his  heart  in  a  princely 
 manner  above  all  things  in  the  world.  A 
 man  that  hath  a  bad  conscience,  though 
 he  be  a  monarch,  it  makes  him  a  slave. 
 A  bad  conscience  embitters  all  things  in 
 the  world  to  him,  though  they  be  never  so 
 comfortable  in  themselves.  What  is  so  com- 
 fortable as  the  presence  of  God  ?  What 
 is  so  comfortable  as  the  light  ?  Yet  a  bad 
 conscience,  that  will  not  be  ruled,  it  hates 
 the  light,  and  hates  the  presence  of  God, 
 as  we  see  Adam,  when  he  had  sinned,  he 
 fled  from  God  (Gen.  iii,  8).  A  bad  con- 
 science cannot  joy  in  the  midst  of  joy. 
 It  is  like  a  gouty  foot,  or  a  gouty  toe, 
 covered  with  a  velvet  shoe.  Alas !  what 
 dolh  ease  it  ?  What  doth  glorious  apparel 
 ea^ie  the  diseased  body  ?  Nothing  at  all. 
 The  ill  is  within.  There  the  arrow  sticks. 
 Sil/bes. 
 
 C01T3CIENCE— m. 
 
 An  ill  conscience  is  no  comfortable  com- 
 panion to  carry  with  thee.  An  ill  con- 
 s-cience  is  like  a  thorn  in  the  flesh.  A 
 thorn  in  the  hedge  may  scratch  you  as  you 
 pass  by  it,  but  a  thorn  in  the  Hesh  rankles 
 with  you  wherever  you  go;  and  the  con- 
 science, the  ill  conscience,  the  conscience 
 that  is  ill  at  ease,  it  makes  you  ill  at  ease. 
 You  cannot  have  peace  so  long  as  you  have 
 an  evil  conscience,  so  long  as  there  is  that 
 continual  monition  flashing  across  your 
 mind: — Judgment  cometh,  death  cometh — 
 
 am  I  ready  ?  Many  a  time  when  you  go 
 to  your  worldly  scenes  of  pleasure,  this  con- 
 science, like  the  finger  writing  on  the  wall 
 of  the  palace  of  the  king  of  Babylon,  alarms 
 and  frightens  you.  You  tell  nobody  about 
 it.  Strange  thoughts  strike  across  your 
 mind.  You  have  no  rest.  Can  a  man 
 rest  on  a  pillow  of  thorns?  Can  a  man 
 rest  with  the  heart-ache  ?  Can  a  man  rest 
 with  his  soul  disturbed  with  the  horrors  of 
 guilt  ?  I  tell  thee  there  is  no  rest  to  thee 
 till  thou  comest  to  Christ.  He  ahme  can 
 calm  a  conscience.  S.  Coley. 
 
 An  ill  conscience  when  it  should  be  most 
 comforted,  then  it  is  most  terrible.  At 
 the  hour  of  death  we  should  have  most 
 comfort,  if  we  had  any  wisdom.  When 
 earthly  comforts  shall  be  taken  from  us, 
 and  at  the  day  of  judgment,  then  an  ill 
 conscience,  look  where  it  will,  it  hath  a 
 matter  of  terror.  If  it  look  up,  there 
 is  the  Judge  armed  with  vengeance  ;  if  it 
 look  beneath,  there  is  hell  ready  to  swallow 
 it;  if  it  look  on  the  one  side,  there  is  the 
 devil  accusing  and  helping  conscience  ;  if  it 
 look  round  about,  there  is  heaven  and  earth, 
 and  all  on  fire,  and  within  there  is  hell. 
 Where  shall  the  sinner  and  ungodly  appear? 
 S'lbhes. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Indestructibility  of. 
 
 Conscience,  like  every  other  faculty  of 
 the  soul,  is  undeveloped  in  the  infant,_and 
 very  imperfectly  developed  in  the  savage ; 
 and,  moreover,  after  a  long  habit  of  in- 
 attention to  its  voice,  and  violation  of  its 
 law,  the  individual  sinner  is  often  judicially 
 given  up  to  carnal  indifference,  his  con- 
 science for  a  time  lying  latent.  Yet  it  is 
 certain  that  it  is  never  destroyed — 1.  From 
 the  fact  that  it  is  often  aroused  to  the 
 agonies  of  remorse.  2.  From  the  fact  that 
 this  remorse  or  accusing  concience,  con- 
 stitutes the  essential  torment  of  lost  souls 
 and  devils.  This  is  tjie  worm  that  never 
 dieth.  Otherwise  their  punishment  would 
 lose  its  moral  character.  A.  A.  Sodje. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— a  King. 
 
 Conscience  is  God's  king,  that  he  puts  in 
 a  man's  breast,  and  conscience  ought  to 
 reign.  You  may  get  up  a  civil  war  to  fight 
 against  conscience,  but  you  cannot  kill  the 
 king.  You  may  dethrone  him  for  a  while, 
 but  he  struggles  and  fights  for  the  mastery. 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 The   conscience,   that    sole    monarchy   in 
 
 man, 
 Owing  allegiance  to  no  earthly  prince; 
 Made  by  the  edict  of  creation  free; 
 Made  sacred,  made  above  all  human  laws. 
 Holding  of  Heaven  alone;  of  most  divine 
 And  indefeasible  authority.        R.  Pollock. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 183 
 
 CONSCIENCE— law  of. 
 
 This  faculty  judges  according  to  a  Divine 
 law  of  right  and  wrong,  included  within  it- 
 self (it  is  a  law  to  itself,  the  original  law 
 written  upon  the  heart,  Rom.  ii.,  14,  15) ; 
 and  it  is  accompanied  with  vivid  emotions, 
 pleasurable  in  view  of  that  which  is  right, 
 and  painful  in  view  of  that  which  is  wrong, 
 especially  when  our  conscience  is  engaged 
 in  reviewing  the  states  or  the  actions  of 
 our  own  wills.  This  faculty,  in  its  own 
 province,  is  sovereign,  and  can  have  no 
 other  superior  than  the  revealed  Word  of 
 God.  A.  A.  Rodge. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— affects  life. 
 
 Life  takes  its  tinge  from  the  conscience, 
 and  our  lot  on  earth  its  colour.  The  con- 
 science that  has  been  cleansed  in  the  blood 
 of  the  lamb  scatters  explanatory  lights 
 upon  all  the  events  of  our  existence.  It 
 invariably  gives  a  good  and  cheerful  signifi- 
 cation, and  deprives  bitterness  of  its  deadly 
 sting  The  evil  conscience,  on  the  contrary, 
 shiirpens  it,  and  even  inserts  the  sting 
 where  it  fails  the  mark,  and  produces  only 
 shadow,  gloom,  and  despondency. 
 
 Krummacher. 
 CONSCIENCE— Marks  on. 
 
 Whatever  was  the  mark  which  Cain 
 carried  upon  his  jperson  after  that  mur- 
 derous deed,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
 mark  on  his  conscience  was  more  deep,  more 
 tormenting,  more  irremoveable.  Men  who 
 sin  in  these  days  often  carry  a  mark  upon 
 them  by  which  others  know  them  to  be 
 sinners ;  but  could  you  read  the  inner  man 
 you  would  see  stronger  marks  there,  by 
 wliich  they  themselves  know  and  feel  that 
 they  are  sinners  more  sensibly  than  you 
 see  it.  John  Bate. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Power  of. 
 
 Where  is  there  a  power  to  be  found 
 comparable  to  that  of  an  accusing  con- 
 science, which,  with  its  condemning  voice, 
 fills  even  heroes  with  dismay,  who  other- 
 wise would  not  have  trembled  before  thou- 
 s;',nds,  and,  stronger  than  death,  deprives 
 mighty  men,  who  are  accustomed  to  fear 
 nothing  and  no  one,  and  even  to  look  death 
 in  the  face,  of  the  brazen  armour  of  their 
 courage  and  their  confidence  in  a  moment ; 
 which  is  able  to  make  us  feel  the  validity 
 of  its  sentence,  even  though  the  whole 
 world  should  deny  it,  and  applaud  and 
 eulogize  our  names  in  opposition  to  it ;  and 
 which  transmutes  into  gall  that  which  is 
 the  most  valuable  to  us  in  the  world  if  we 
 are  obliged  to  enjoy  it  under  the  thunder 
 of  its  reproaches.  Krummacher. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Quiet. 
 
 I  feel  within  me 
 A  peace,  above  all  earthly  dignities, 
 A  i  .ill  and  C[uiet  conscience. 
 
 Shakesveare. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Eemorse  of. 
 
 Herod  having  put  to  death  his  wife 
 Mariamne,  from  an  ill-grounded  suspicion 
 of  incontinence,  soon  after  grew  melancholy 
 and  dejected,  retiring  from  the  public  ad- 
 ministration of  affairs  into  a  solitary  forest, 
 and  there,  abandoning  himself  to  all  the 
 black  considerations,  which  naturally  arise 
 from  a  passion  made  up  of  love,  remorse, 
 pity,  and  despair,  he  used  to  rave  for 
 his  Mariamne,  and  to  call  upon  her  in  his 
 distracted  fits ;  and  in  all  probability  would 
 soon  have  followed  her,  had  not  his  thoughts 
 been  called  off  from  so  sad  an  object  by 
 public  storms  which  at  that  time  very 
 nearly  threatened  him. 
 
 In  the  same  dreadful  situation  of  mind 
 was  Alexander  the  Great,  after  the  murder 
 of  his  friend  Clitus ;  and  Nero,  the  Roman 
 emperor,  after  that  of  his  mother.  Stretch, 
 
 In  returning  from  some  of  the  apart- 
 ments in  a  Lunatic  Asylum  in  Philadelphia, 
 Dr.  Beecher  saw  a  man  standing  fixed,  im- 
 movable, like  a  pillar;  and  in  recording 
 the  scene  says : — "  I  asked  who  that  was, 
 so  fixed,  the  image  of  despair.  It  was  the 
 son  of  Dr.  Rush,  and  in  the  dreadful  hour 
 of  revenge  and  pride  he  had  killed  a  fellow- 
 man  in  a  duel.  There  he  stood  like  a  pil- 
 lar. Sometimes  he  would  apparently  wake 
 up  to  recollection ;  he  would  pace  off"  the 
 distance,  and  give  the  word  Fire !  Then 
 he  would  cry  out, '  He  is  dead !  He  is  dead !' 
 This  was  the  power  of  conscience,  of  re- 
 morse. It  had  unsettled  reason,  and  left 
 the  man  in  tlie  grasp  of  his  crime  as  an 
 eternal  ghastly  reality  of  his  being." 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 CONSCIENCE— Eight  of. 
 
 By  this  is  meant  the  right  which  a  man 
 has  to  profess  his  own  opinions  on  subjects 
 of  religion,  and  to  worship  God  in  the  mode 
 which  be  deems  most  acceptable  to  Him. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 CONSCIENCE— in  Solitude. 
 
 We  go  about  in  the  day  time ;  we  see 
 pleasant  companions;  we  are  absorbed  in 
 earthly  schemes;  the  things  of  sense  are 
 around  us;  the  world  is  as  bright  as  a 
 rainbow ;  and  it  bears  for  us  no  marks  or 
 predictions  of  the  judgment,  or  of  our  sins ; 
 and  it  holds  no  converse  with  us  on  these 
 subjects;  and  conscience  has  retired  as  it 
 were  within'  a  far  inner  circle  of  the  soul. 
 But  when  it  comes  night,  and  the  streets 
 are  empty,  and  the  lights  are  out,  and  the 
 business  and  the  driving  and  gaiety  are 
 over,  and  the  pall  of  sleep  is  drawn  over 
 the  senses,  and  the  reason  and  the  will  are 
 no  longer  on  the  watch,  then  conscience 
 comes  out  solemnly,  and  walks  al)out  in  the 
 silent  chambers  of  the  soul,  and  makes  her 
 survey  and  her  comments;  and  sometimes 
 sits  down  and  sternlv  reads  the  records  of  a 
 
184 
 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 life  that  the  waking  man  would  never  look 
 into;  and  the  catalogue  of  crimes  that 
 are  gathering  for  the  judgment.  And  as 
 conscience  reads  and  reads  aloud,  and  solil- 
 oquises, you  may  hear  the  still  small  deep 
 echo  of  her  voice  reverherated  through  the 
 soul's  most  secret  unveiled  recesses.  Imagi- 
 nation walks  tremblingly  behind  her,  and 
 now,  they  two  alone  pass  through  the 
 open  gate  of  the  Scriptures  into  the  future 
 and  eternal  world,  for  thither  all  things  in 
 man's  being  naturally  and  irresistably 
 tend;  and  then,  as  conscience  is  still 
 dwelling  upon  sin,  imagination  draws  the 
 judgment,  and  the  soul  is  presented  at  the 
 bar  of  God,  and  the  eye  of  the  Judge  is  on 
 it,  and  a  hand  of  fire  writes  as  on  the  walls 
 of  the  universe,  "  Thou  art  weighed  in  the 
 balance  and  found  wanting."  Then  what- 
 ever sinful  thoughts  or  passions,  words  or 
 deeds,  the  conscience  enumerates  and 
 dwells  upon,  the  imagination  with  pro- 
 phefc  truth  fills  eternity  with  correspond- 
 ing shapss  of  evil.  Dr.  Cheever. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Stings  of. 
 
 The  Earl  of  Breadalbane  planned  the 
 massacre  of  Glencoe,  and  carried  it  into 
 execution  in  the  most  cruel  and  dastardly 
 manner.  Macaulay,  speaking  of  the  elfects 
 produced  upon  the  minds  of  the  guilty 
 perpetrators  of  this  atrocious  deed,  says 
 that  "Breadalbane,  hardened  as  lie  was, 
 felt  the  siings  of  conscience  or  the  dread  of 
 retribution. 
 
 ****** 
 
 "  He  did  his  best  to  assume  an  air  of 
 unconcern.  He  made  his  appearance  in 
 the  most  fashionable  coft'ee-liouse  at  Edin- 
 burgh, and  talked  loudly  and  self-compla- 
 cently  about  the  important  services  in  which 
 he  had  been  engaged  among  the  mountains. 
 Some  of  his  soldiers,  however,  who  observed 
 him  closely,  whispered  that  all  this  bravery 
 ■was  put  on.  He  was  not  the  man  that  he 
 had  been  before  that  night.  The  form  of 
 his  countenance  was  changed.  In  all  places, 
 at  all  hours,  whether  he  waked  or  slept, 
 Glencoe  tvasfor  ever  before  him." 
 
 Br.  Thomas. 
 
 Severe  decrees  may  keep  our  tongues  in 
 
 awe. 
 But  to  our  thoughts  what  edict  can  give 
 
 law? 
 E\en  you  yourself  to  your  own  breast  shall 
 
 tell 
 Your  crimes,  and  your  own  conscience  be 
 your  hell.  Bryden. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Tender. 
 
 Paul  made  much  of  a  tender  conscience, 
 else  he  had  never  done  as  he  did, nor  sufiered 
 what  we  read  of.  "  And  herein,"  saith  he, 
 "  do  I  exercise  myself,  to  have  always  a 
 conscience  void  of  offence  toward  God  and 
 toward  men."     But  this  could  not  a  stony, 
 
 benumbed,  bribed,  deluded,  or  a  muzzled 
 conscience  do.  Paul  was  like  the  niglitin- 
 gale  with  his  breast  against  the  thorn. 
 That  his  heart  might  still  keep  waking  he 
 would  accustom  himself  to  the  meditation 
 of  those  things  that  should  beget  both  love 
 and  fear ;  and  would  always  be  very  chary, 
 lest  he  oflended  his  conscience.       Bunyan. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Trampling  on. 
 
 You  may  dim  the  surface  of  the  glass, 
 so  that  it  shall  no  longer  be  painfully 
 bright,  like  a  little  sun  lying  on  the 
 ground,  but  your  puny  operation  does  not 
 extinguish  the  great  light  that  glows  in 
 heaven.  Thus  to  trample  conscience  in 
 the  mire,  so  that  it  shall  no  longer  reflect 
 God's  holiness,  does  not  dischai-ge  holiness 
 from  the  character  of  God.  He  will  come 
 to  judge  the  world,  although  the  world 
 madly  silence  the  witness  who  tells  of  His 
 coming.  Dr.  Arnot. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Troubled. 
 
 As  the  st:)g  which  the  huntsman  has  hit 
 flies  through  bush  and  brake,  over  stock 
 and  stone,  thereby  exhausting  his  strength 
 but  not  expelling  the  deadly  bullet  from 
 his  body;  so  does  experience  show  that 
 they  who  have  troubled  consciences  run 
 from  place  to  place,  but  carry  with  them 
 wherever  they  go,  their  dangerous  wounds. 
 Gotthold. 
 CONSCIENCE— Trustworthy. 
 
 I  say  to  every  man,  you  ought  to  have  a 
 conscience  so  active,  so  sensitive  by  daily 
 communion  with  God,  so  bathed  in  the 
 sweet  ways  and  meditations  of  a  Chris- 
 tian life,  that  you  shall  be  misled  and  de- 
 ceived by  no  example,  and  by  no  specious 
 reasoning,  a  man  who  has  a  correct 
 watch  learns  to  trust  it.  After  he  has 
 thoroughly  tried  his  faithful  servant  of  the 
 pocket,  and  knows  that  through  months 
 and  years  it  has  given  him  true  reports,  he 
 places  great  reliance  upon  it.  He  may 
 ask  the  time  of  the  town  clock,  but  if  it 
 give  a  diff'erent  report  from  that  given  by 
 his  watch,  he  at  once  says  to  the  clock, 
 "Thou  liest."  He  may  ask  the  time  of 
 his  friend  whom  he  meets  in  the  street, 
 and  he  takes  the  report  of  his  friend's 
 watch  till  he  looks  at  his  own,  when,  find- 
 ing that  they  ditter,  he  says,  "Mine  must 
 be  right,  for  it  never  deceives  me."  Every 
 man  should  keep  an  account  of  celestial 
 time ;  and  setting  his  own  heart  and  con- 
 science by  the  beats  and  throbs  of  God 
 Almighty's  heart,  he  should  take  counsel 
 of,  and  believe  in,  no  other.  He  should 
 compare  himself  daily  with  this  standard, 
 and  should  take  no  testimony  against  it. 
 He  that  has  an  o])en  face,  and  looks  into 
 the  open  face  of  God,  shall  be  a  child  ot 
 light,  a  child  of  liberty,  a  child  of  glory. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 185 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Universal. 
 
 Can  it  be  denied  that  something  of  this 
 is  found  in  every  man  born  into  the  world  ? 
 And  does  it  not  appear  as  soon  as  the 
 understanding  opens — as  soon  as  reason 
 begins  to  dawn  ?  Does  not  every  one 
 begin  to  know  that  there  is  a  difference 
 between  good  and  evil,  how  imperfect  so- 
 ever the  varied  circumstances  of  this  sense 
 of  good  and  evil  may  be  ?  Does  not  every 
 man,  for  instance,  know,  unless  blinded  by 
 the  prejudices  of  education  (like  the  inhabi- 
 tants of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope),  that  it  is 
 good  to  honour  his  parents  ?  Do  not  all 
 men,  however  uneducated  or  barbarous, 
 allow,  it  is  right  to  do  to  others,  as  we 
 would  have  them  do  to  us?  And  are 
 not  all  who  know  this  condemned  in  their 
 own  minds  when  they  do  anything  con- 
 trary thereto  ? — as,  on  the  other  hand, 
 when  they  act  suitably  thereto,  they  have 
 the  approbation  of  their  own  consciences. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 CONSCIENCE— Varies. 
 
 Conscience  is  a  clock,  which  in  one  man 
 strikes  aloud  and  give  warning;  in  an- 
 other the  hand  points  silently  to  the  figure, 
 but  strikes  not;  meantime  hours  pass 
 away,  and  death  hastens,  and  after  death 
 comes  judgment.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Varieties  of. 
 
 There  is  not  on  earth  a  more  capricious, 
 accommodating,  or  abused  thing  than 
 CONSCIENCE.  It  would  be  very  possible 
 to  exhibit  a  curious  classification  of  con- 
 sciences in  genera  and  species.  What 
 copious  matter  for  speculation  among  the 
 varieties  of — lawyer's  conscience — cleric 
 conscience  —  lay  conscience  —  lord's  con- 
 science —  peasant's  conscience  —  hermit's 
 conscience — tradesmen's  conscience— phi- 
 losopher's conscience  —  Christian's  con- 
 science— conscience  of  reason — conscience 
 of  faith — healthy  man's  conscience — sick 
 man's  conscience — ingenious  conscience — 
 simple  conscience,  &c.  /.  Foster. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Wakeful. 
 
 Though  in  many  men  conscience  sleep  in 
 regard  to  motion,  yet  it  never  sleeps  in 
 regard  to  observation  and  notice.  It  may 
 be  hard  and  seared,  it  can  never  be  blind. 
 Like  letters  written  with  the  juice  of 
 lemon ;  that  which  is  written  upon  it, 
 though  seemingly  invisible  and  illegible, 
 when  brought  before  the  fire  of  God's 
 judgment,  shall  come  forth  clear  and  ex- 
 pressive. 31' Cosh. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— Warning  of. 
 
 A  man  may  be  saved  from  death  by 
 seeing  the  refiection  of  danger  in  a  mirror, 
 •when  the  danger  itself  could  not  be  directly 
 seen.  The  executioner  with  his  weapon  is 
 stealthily  approaching  through  a  corridor 
 
 of  the  castle  to  the  spot  where  the  devoted 
 invalid  reclines.  In  his  musings  the  cap- 
 tive has  turned  his  vacant  eye  towards  a 
 mirror  on  the  wall,  and  the  faithful  witness 
 reveals  the  impending  stroke  in  time  to 
 secure  the  escape  of  the  victim.  It  is  thus 
 that  the  mirror  in  a  man's  breast  has  be- 
 come in  a  sense  the  man's  saviour,  by 
 revealing  the  wrath  to  come  before  its 
 coming.  Happy  they  who  take  the  warn- 
 ing,— happy  they  who  turn  and  live ! 
 
 Br.  Arnot. 
 CONSCIENCE— Whispers  of. 
 Yet  still  there   whispers   the  small  voice 
 
 within. 
 Heard    through   gain's   silence,   and    o'er 
 
 glory's  din : 
 Whatever  creed  be  taught,  or  land  be  trod, 
 Man's  conscience  is  the  oracle  of  God. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 Foul    whisp'rings    are    abroad,    unnatural 
 
 deeds 
 Do    breed  unnatural    troubles  :     infected 
 
 minds 
 To  their  deaf  pillows  wiU  discharge  their 
 
 secrets.  Shakespeare. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— An  Evil. 
 
 The  voice  of  an  evil  conscience  is  not 
 one  evil  in  particular,  but  a  multitude  of 
 evils.  It  is  a  barking  hell-hound,  a  mon- 
 ster vomiting  fire,  a  raging  fury,  a  tor- 
 menting devil.  It  is  the  nature  and  qua- 
 lity of  a  guilty  conscience  to  flee  and  be 
 terrified,  even  when  all  is  well  and  when 
 prosperity  abounds,  and  to  change  such 
 prosperity  into  danger  and  death.    Luther. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (EvU)— Cure  of  an. 
 
 An  evil  conscience  is  like  the  raging  sea, 
 which  can  only  be  calmed  by  the  sign  of 
 the  Cross  of  Christ.  It  is  a  knawing  worm 
 in  the  bones,  for  the  removal  of  which 
 nothing  less  is  required  than  the  blood  of 
 the  Son  of  God.  Krummacher. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (Evil)— Working  of  an. 
 
 Like  a  lion  which  has  been  asleep,  but 
 only  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  fresh 
 strength  by  his  slumbers,  it  rouses  within 
 the  sinner,  and  begins  to  expound  and  in- 
 terpret to  him  his  unforeseen  distress. 
 And  you  may  easily  suppose  what  is  the 
 nature  of  the  interpretation.  It  is  the 
 mischievous  quality  of  an  evil  conscience  to 
 draw  black  inferences  from  every  occur- 
 rence. It  is  a  gloomy  painter,  to  whom  no 
 night  piece  seems  sufficiently  dark  and 
 horrible  not  to  need  tlie  introduction  of 
 some  new  traits  of  teri'or ;  it  is  a  coloured 
 mirror,  in  which  the  slightest  mishap  as- 
 sumes the  appearance  of  a  flood  of  fire  from 
 the  vials  of  the  Divine  wrath ;  a  melan- 
 choly prophet  that  continually  predicts 
 I  uotliing  but  evil  and  destruction;  an  ill- 
 
186 
 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 omened  biril  in  a  stormy  ni;;lit,  that  croaks 
 liis  monotonous  and  spectral  note,  indica- 
 tive only  of  misfortune.  Krummaeher. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— A  Good. 
 
 A  good  conscience  is  to  the  soul  what 
 health  is  to  the  body ;  it  preserves  a  con- 
 stant ease  and  serenity  within  us,  and  more 
 than  countervails  all  the  calamities  and 
 afflictions  which  can  possibly  befall  us. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (A  Good)— in  Death. 
 
 A  good  conscience,  when  it  hath  laid  up 
 grounds  of  joy  in  life,  in  the  worst  estate 
 and  condition  of  life,  then  it  makes  use  of 
 joy  in  death;  for  when  all  comforts  are 
 taken  from  a  man,  when  his  friends  cannot 
 comfort  him,  and  all  earthly  things  leave 
 him,  then  that  conscience  that  hath  gone 
 along  with  him,  that  hath  beeu  a  monitor, 
 and  a  witness  all  his  lifetime,  now  it  comes 
 to  speak  good  things  to  him,  now  it  com- 
 forts him,  now  conscience  is  somebody. 
 At  the  hour  of  death,  when  notliing  else 
 will  be  regarded,  when  nothing  will  com- 
 fort, then  conscience  doth.  "  The  righ- 
 teous hath  hope  in  his  death,"  as  the  wise 
 man  saith  (Prov.  xiv,  32).  Death  is  called 
 the  king  of  fears,  because  it  makes  all 
 afraid.  It  is  the  terrible  of  terribles,  saith 
 the  philosopher  ;  but  here  is  a  king  above 
 the  king  of  fears.  A  good  conscience  is 
 above  the  king  of  fears,  death.  A  good 
 conscience  is  so  far  from  being  discouraged 
 by  this  king  of  fears,  that  it  is  joyful  even 
 in  death  ;  because  it  knows  that  then  it  is 
 near  to  the  place  where  conscience  shall  be 
 fully  enlarged,  where  there  shall  be  no 
 annovance,  nor  no  grievance  whatsoever. 
 
 Sibbes. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Good)— Power  of. 
 
 In  this  tempestuous  world  no  line  holds 
 the  anchor  of  contentment  so  fast  as  a 
 good  conscience.  Man's  favour  is  but  a 
 fine  thread,  that  will  scarcely  hold  one  tug 
 of  a  crafty  talebearer.  Honour  slips  the 
 noose  when  vulgar  breath,  wearied  with 
 constant  virtue,  is  more  affected  to  novelty. 
 Eiches  are  gnawn  asunder  by  the  greedy 
 teeth  of  devouring  Leviathan's  cruel  ty- 
 rants. But  this  cable  is  so  strong  and  well 
 compact,  that  when  force  is  offered  to  it, 
 the  straining  rather  strengthens  by  uniting 
 the  parts  more  close.  Ziord  Capel. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Good)— Security  of. 
 
 What  stronger  breastplate  than  a  heart 
 untainted  ? 
 
 Thrice  is  he  armed  who  hath  his  quarrel 
 just  ; 
 
 And  he  but  naked,  though  locked  up  in 
 steel. 
 
 Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  cor- 
 rupted. Shakespeare. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Good)— Testimony  of. 
 
 The  testimony  of  a  good  conscience  will 
 make  the  comforts  of  heaven  descend  upon 
 man's  weary  head,  like  a  refreshing  dew 
 or  shower  upon  a  parched  land.  It  will 
 give  him  lively  earnests  and  secret  antici- 
 pations of  approaching  joy ;  it  will  bid  his 
 soul  go  out  of  the  body  undauntedly,  and 
 lift  up  his  head  with  confidence  before 
 saints  and  angels.  The  comfort  which  it 
 conveys  is  greater  than  the  capacities  of 
 mortality  can  appreciate,  mighty  and  un- 
 speakable, and  not  to  be  understood  till  it 
 is  felt.  Br.  South. 
 
 CONSCIENCE— A  Guilty. 
 
 A  guilty  conscience  is  like  a  whirlpool, 
 drawing  in  all  to  itself  which  would  other- 
 wise pass  by.  T.  Fuller. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Guilty)— Fear  of. 
 
 The  celebrated  itinerant  preacher,  Lo- 
 renzo Dow,  while  travelling  on  Sunday  to 
 the  place  where  he  had  an  appointment  to 
 preach,  in  passing  a  house  overheard  a  man 
 who  was  standing  at  the  door  swearing 
 bitterly.  Dow  went  up  to  him,  and  in- 
 quired the  cause.  The  man  answered  that 
 he  had  an  axe  stolen  the  night  befoi-e  by 
 some  person.  "  Come  along  with  me  to 
 tlie  meeting,"  said  the  preacher,  "  and  I 
 will  find  your  axe."  The  man  consented, 
 and  when  they  arrived  near  the  church, 
 Dow  stopped  and  picked  up  a  pretty  large 
 stone,  which  he  carried  with  him  into 
 church,  and  laid  upon  the  front  of  the 
 pulpit.  The  subject  of  his  sermon  was 
 very  well  fitted  to  his  particiilar  object, 
 and  when  in  the  middle  of  it  he  stopped 
 short,  took  the  stone  in  his  hand,  and 
 raising  it  with  a  threatening  attitude,  said, 
 "  A  man  in  this  neighbourhood  had  an  axe 
 stolen  last  night,  and  if  the  person  who 
 stole  it  doesn't  dodge,  I  will  hit  him  on  the 
 forehead  with  this  stone,"  at  the  same  time 
 making  a  violent  effort  to  throw  it,  when 
 a  person  present  was  observed  to  dodge 
 his  head  violently ;  and  it  scarce  need  be 
 added,  proved  to  be  the  guilty  person. 
 
 K.  Arvine. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  GuUty)— God  and. 
 
 Alcibiades  thus  expresses  himself  in 
 speaking  of  Socrates  : — "  I  stop  my  ears, 
 therefore,  as  from  the  syrens,  and  flee  away 
 as  fast  as  possible,  that  I  may  not  sit  down 
 beside  him  and  grow  old  in  listening  to  his 
 talk  ;  for  this  man  has  reduced  me  to  feel 
 the  sentiment  of  blame  which  I  iraaghie 
 no  one  could  readily  believe  was  in  me ;  he 
 alone  inspires  me  with  remorse  and  awe, 
 for  I  feel  in  his  presence  my  incapacity  of 
 refuting  what  he  says  or  of  refusing  to  do 
 that  which  he  directs  ;  but  when  I  depart 
 from  him,  the  glory  which  the  multitude 
 coniers  overwhelms  me.     I  escape,  there- 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 187 
 
 fore,  and  hide  myself  from  him,  and  when 
 I  see  him  I  am  overwhehiied  with  hunnli- 
 ation,  because  I  have  neglected  to  do  what 
 I  have  confessed  ought  to  be  done,  and 
 often  have  I  wished  that  he  were  no 
 longer  to  be  seen  among  men."  If  such 
 were  the  feelings  excited  by  a  near  view  of 
 the  character  of  Socrates,  how  much  more 
 overwhelming  must  be  the  feelings  created 
 by  a  view  of  the  infinite  purity  of  God  by 
 a  guilty  conscience  ?  Hence  the  conduct 
 of  sinners  who  have  any  sense  of  Him. 
 They  will  not  abide  in  His  presence.  They 
 escape  away  from  Him  in  the  forgetfulness 
 of  this  world,  but  when,  alas,  they  do  get 
 a  view  of  Him  through  the  eye  of  a  guilty 
 conscience,  how  do  they  wish  there  was  no 
 such  a  Being !  And  some  of  them,  pre- 
 vailed upon  by  their  wishes,  really  say  in 
 their  hearts,  "  Thei-e  is  no  God."    McCosh. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Guilty)— Torments  of. 
 
 It  is  a  man's  own  dishonesty,  his  crimes, 
 his  wickedness,  and  boldness,  that  takes 
 away  from  him  soundness  of  mind ;  these 
 are  the  furies,  these  the  flames  and  fire- 
 brands of  the  wicked,  Cicero. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Guilty) -Terrors  of. 
 
 When  a  murderer  recently  executed  was 
 awaiting  his  trial,  he  brought  against  his 
 fellow-prisoners  the  charge  of  insulting 
 him  through  the  walls  of  his  cell,  and 
 screaming  to  him,  "  You  are  a  bloody 
 man  !  "  On  examination,  it  was  found  that 
 the  charge  was  wholly  groundless,  and  that 
 these  accusing  voices  were  imaginary, 
 being  but  the  echo  of  a  guilty  conscience. 
 
 If  such  things  can  be  done  in  earth's 
 prisons,  what  are  sinners  to  look  for  in  a 
 future  world  ?  0,  what  taunts  and  curses 
 shall  pierce  the  ears  of  those  who  lie  down 
 in  hell !  Conscience  will  have  a  terrific 
 power  of  starting  such  accusations,  and 
 then  an  ear  of  keen  sensibility  to  receive 
 the  echoes  as  they  roll  back  upon  the  soul. 
 "\Miat  an  occupation  for  eternity  !  What 
 inconceivable  agony  to  be  shut  up  with 
 the  ghostly  memories  of  past  sin,  and  to 
 hear,  through  long  centuries  of  gloom  and 
 despair,  only  the  uttered  and  echoed  curses 
 which  sin  brings  down  upon  the  soul !  O 
 for  that  grace  which  sprinkles  our  hearts 
 from  an  evil  conscience  !  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 None  have  accused  thee;  'tis  thy  conscience 
 
 cries. 
 The  witness  in  the  soul  that  never  dies ; 
 Its  accusation  like  the  moaning  wind 
 Of  wintry  midnight,  moves    thy   startled 
 
 mind. 
 Oh !  may  it  melt  thy  harden'd  heart,  and 
 
 bring 
 From  out  thy  frozen  soul  the  life  of  spring. 
 Mrs.  Hale.  \ 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (a  Guilty)— Pangs  of. 
 
 For  the  dark  shafts,  that  fly 
 From  those  beneath,  slain  by  the  kindred 
 
 hand 
 Of  villain  baseness,  frenzy,  and  vain  fear, 
 That  trembles  at  the  shadows  of  the  night. 
 Rouse,  sting,  and  drive  the  vice-polluted 
 
 wretch  [city. 
 
 With  brazen  scourges  tortured  through  the 
 He  from  the  friendly  howl,  the  hallow'd 
 
 goblet. 
 The  social  intercourse,  the  incensed  altar, 
 Is  chased,  condemn'd  to   bear  the  secret 
 
 pangs  [friends. 
 
 Of  inly -gnawing  guilt ;  meanwhile  the  fiends 
 Hatred  and  Infamy  pursue  his  steps. 
 And  di-ag  him  to  an  execrable  death. 
 
 JSschylus. 
 
 CONSCIENCE  (A  Hardened)— Alarmed. 
 
 "  Richard  Crowninshield  was  a  murderer. 
 As  long  as  he  thought  the  evidence  of  his 
 crime  was  concealed  he  was  cheerful  and 
 confident  even  in  prison.  He  was  a  very 
 desperate,  hardened,  strong-minded,  re- 
 morseless villain.  He  was  the  leader  of  a 
 knot  of  infidels,  who  jeered  at  all  sacred 
 things,  and  taught  young  men  in  habits  of 
 abandoned  wickedness.  There  were  acces- 
 sories to  his  crime,  not  one  of  whom,  as  he 
 thought,  was  suspected ;  and  he  knew  that 
 so  long  as  that  was  the  case,  not  a  link 
 of  condemning  evidence  coiild  be  obtained 
 against  him.  At  length  a  letter,  inter- 
 cepted in  the  post-ofiice,  led  to  the  arrest 
 of  one  of  his  accomplices.  That  arrested 
 man  was  carried  into  the  jail  at  midnight ; 
 but  so  profound  was  the  sleep  of  that 
 hardened  murderer,  that  all  the  clanging 
 of  tlie  bolts  and  bars  of  the  prison,  at  that 
 unusual  hour,  did  not  wake  him.  The 
 next  morning  the  sherifl'  came  into  his  cell 
 and  entered  into  familiar  conversation  with 
 him.  He  was  standing  calmly  at  the  foot 
 of  his  truckle  bed.  '  Well,'  said  the  sheriff, 
 '  did  you  hear  the  noise  last  night  ? ' 
 '  Noise  ?  no ;  what  noise  ?  I  slept  well.' 
 '  Why,  did  you  not  know  that  they  had 
 arrested  Frank  Knapp,  and  brought  him 
 here  last  night  at  midnight  ? '  The  sti'ong, 
 guilty  man  put  his  hand  to  the  wall  to 
 steady  himself,  but,  unable  to  conceal  his 
 feelings,  or  to  recover  from  the  shock,  fell 
 back  senseless  on  the  bed.  The  recoil,  the 
 scorpion  sting,  had  reached  him  at  last; 
 his  sin  had  found  him  out ;  the  sword  had 
 pierced  through  the  rocky  casement  around 
 the  conscience  of  the  desperate  criminal, 
 and  was  grinding  in  his  soul.  What  passed 
 that  night  none  can  tell,  nor  how  long  the 
 man  endured  the  terrible  confiict  with  con- 
 science and  despair.  But  when  the  sheriff 
 entered  his  cell  next  morning,  he  was  hang- 
 ing dead,  self-murdered.  Such  is  the  power 
 of  sudden  overwhelming  evidence,  bringing 
 the  sense  as  well  as  the  proof  of  guilt  into 
 
CONSCIENTIOUS— CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 the  soul.     Men  would  flee  from  it,  if  tliey  j 
 could,  at  the  last  day.     If  there  were  still 
 a  third  world  into  which  souls  could  plunge  ' 
 out  of  the  eternal  world  hy  a  second  self- 
 murder,  they  would  do  it."      Br.  Cheever. 
 
 CONSCIENTIOUS  AND  SCEUPULOUS. 
 
 Conscientious  conies  from  conscience,  and 
 marks  the  quality  of  having  a  nice  con- 
 science. Scrupulous,  from  scruple,  signi- 
 fying the  quality  of  having  a  scruple. 
 Scruple,  in  Latin  scruimlus,  a  little  hard 
 stone,  which  in  walking  gives  pain.  Con- 
 scientious is  to  scrupulous  as  a  whole  to  a 
 part.  A  conscientious  man  is  so  altogether ; 
 a  scrupulous  man  may  have  only  particu- 
 lar scruples;  the  one  is,  therefore,  always 
 taken  in  a  good  sense,  and  the  other  at 
 least  in  an  indifferent  if  not  a  bad  sense. 
 A  conscientious  man  does  nothing  to  offend 
 his  conscience;  but  a  scrupulous  man  has 
 often  his  scruples  on  trifling  or  minor 
 points  ;  the  Pharisees  were  scrupulous 
 without  being  conscientious ;  we  must, 
 therefore,  strive  to  be  conscientious  with- 
 out being  over  scrupulous.  G.  Crabb. 
 CONSCIENTIOUSNESS— Royal. 
 
 George  III  was  requested  by  Mr.  Pitt 
 fco  make  Paley  a  bishop.  The  king  re- 
 fused; and  taking  down  the  'Moral  Phi- 
 losophy' from  a  shelf  he  showed  Pitt  the 
 passage  in  which  he  justifies  subscription 
 to  articles  not  fully  credited,  on  the  ground 
 of  expediency.  "  This,"  said  the  King,  "  is 
 my  reason  for  not  making  him  a  bishop." 
 
 Anon. 
 CONSCIOUSNESS— Definition  of. 
 
 Consciousness  is  the  faculty  by  which  we 
 become  cognizant  of  the  operations  of  our 
 own  minds.  Dr.  Wayland. 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS  AND  CONSCIENCE. 
 
 Consciousness  is  confined  to  the  actions 
 of  the  mind,  being  nothing  else  but  that 
 knowledge  of  itself  which  is  inseparable 
 from  every  thought  and  voluntary  motion 
 of  the  soul.  Conscience  extends  to  all  human 
 actions,  bodily  as  well  as  mental.  Conscious- 
 ness is  the  knowledge  of  the  existence; 
 conscience  of  the  moral  nature  of  actions. 
 Consciousness  is  a  province  of  mettiphysics ; 
 conscience  of  morality.  C.  Buck. 
 
 CONSECRATION— Act  of. 
 
 If  so  poor  a  worm  as  I 
 
 May  to  Thy  glory  live. 
 All  my  actions  sanctify. 
 
 All  my  words  and  thoughts  receive ; 
 Claim  me  for  Thy  service,  claim 
 All  I  have,  and  all  I  am. 
 Take  my  soul  and  body's  powers ; 
 
 Take  my  memory,  mind,  and  will ; 
 All  my  goods,  and  all  my  hours. 
 
 All  I  know,  and  all  I  feel ; 
 All  I  think,  or  speak,  or  do ; 
 Take  my  heart ; — but  make  it  new. 
 
 Now,  0  God,  Thine  own  I  am ; 
 
 Now  I  give  Thee  back  Thine  own ; 
 Freedom,  friends,  and  health,  and  fame. 
 
 Consecrate  to  Thee  alone  : 
 Thine  I  live,  thrice  happy  I ! 
 Happer  still  if  Thine  I  die.      C.  Wesley. 
 
 CONSECRATION— Entire. 
 
 Entire  consecration  embraces  three  things 
 — being,  doing,  and  suffering.  We  must 
 be  willing  to  be,  to  do,  and  to  suffer,  all 
 that  God  requires.  This  embraces  repu- 
 tation, friends,  property,  and  time.  It 
 covers  body,  mind,  and  soul.  These  are 
 to  be  used  tvhen,  ivhere,  and  as  God  re- 
 quires ;  and  only  as  He  requires.  "  Un- 
 less," says  an  American  divine,  "the 
 Christian  is  willing  to  make  such  a  con- 
 secration, and  unless  he  actually  adds  the 
 execution  of  the  thing  to  the  desire  or 
 willingness  to  do  it,  by  a  formal  and  de-, 
 cisive  act,  we  can  see  no  encouragement 
 that  he  will  i-each"  the  desired  "  results 
 of  personal  inward  experience."  This 
 writer  further  claims  that  such  a  conse- 
 cration should  be  made  "  deliberately  ;" 
 "for  all  coming  time;"  "without  any 
 reserve;"  and  "in  reliance  upon  Divine 
 strength."  W.  M'Donald. 
 
 CONSECRATION— Manner  of. 
 
 Perhaps  there  are  no  words  which  ex- 
 press more  clearly  the  manner  of  perform- 
 ing this  work,  than  altar  and  sacrifice. 
 We  are  required  to  ofter  our  "  bodies  a 
 living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  unto  God." 
 We  are  "  sanctified  through  the  offering 
 of  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ  once  for  all." 
 Can  one  who  seeks  entire  sanctification 
 find  language  more  expressive  or  appro- 
 priate than  the  following  ? — "  I  bring  all 
 to  God's  altar.  Come,  Lord,  and  accept 
 my  ofi'ering."  Ibid. 
 
 CONSECRATION  AND  SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 There  is  a  difference  between  consecra- 
 tion and  sanctification.  The  former  be- 
 longs to  us ;  the  latter,  to  our  faithful 
 God.  We  cannot  have  the  latter  without 
 the  former.  Ibid. 
 
 CONSEQUENCES— Considering. 
 
 The  rule  is  this :  there  may  be  great 
 difficulty  in  applying  it  in  individual  cases, 
 but  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  sound- 
 ness of  the  general  principle ;  wherever  we 
 are  sure  that  duty  leads ;  wherever  we  are 
 sure  God  bids  us  go;  then  that  way  we 
 should  go,  whatever  and  however  painful 
 the  consequences  may  be.  In  all  other 
 cases  a  prudent  man  will  carefully  weigh 
 the  consequences  of  what  he  may  think  of 
 doing,  and  be  guided  by  the  consideration 
 of  them.  But  if  God  clearly  points  the 
 way,  that  way  he  ought  to  take,  disregard- 
 ing consequences.  Boyd. 
 
CONSEQUENCES— CONSIDERATION. 
 
 189 
 
 CONSEaUENCES— Disdaining. 
 
 A  drunkard  who,  for  tlie  sake  of  present 
 gratification,  disregards  tlie  ruin  wliicli  he 
 is  bringing  upon  his  children  and  himself, 
 does  most  unquestionably  disdain  conse- 
 quences. A  young  lad  who,  to  supply 
 some  present  want,  steals  his  master's 
 money,  disregarding  his  own  certainty  of 
 detection  and  destruction,  and  his  parents' 
 broken  hearts,  does  certainly  disdain  con- 
 sequences. A  man  who,  for  the  sake  of 
 worldly  pleasure  or  profit,  does  a  sinful 
 deed,  and  thus  draws  down  God's  anger, 
 and  imperils  and  injures  his  immortal 
 spirit,  disregarding  Christ's  question, 
 "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,"  &c.,  such 
 a  man  does  most  assuredly  and  completely 
 disdain  consequences.  And  each  of  these 
 three  persons  stamps  himself  a  fool,  just 
 because  he  disdains  coi»sequences.  To 
 shut  our  eyes  to  the  consequences  of  what 
 we  are  doing,  and  blindly  to  rush  on,  is 
 Boyd. 
 
 There  are  cases  in  which  to  resolutely 
 refuse  to  take  into  view  what  may  be  the 
 consequences  of  our  conduct  is  heroism, 
 is  Christianity  in  its  highest  and  noblest 
 development.  When  the  three  Jews  in 
 Babylon  were  told  that  the  consequences 
 of  not  falling  down  before  the  golden 
 image  would  be,  that  they  should  be  cast 
 into  a  burning  fiery  furnace :  when  Moses 
 saw,  that  if  he  cast  in  his  lot  with  God's 
 oppressed  people,  he  must  "  forsake  Egypt," 
 must  give  up  power  and  splendour,  and 
 perhaps  the  throne  itself:  when  St.  Paul 
 was  sure  that  if  he  turned  preacher  of  the 
 Cross  he  must  give  up  a  peaceful  life  of 
 comfort  and  esteem,  and  take  instead  a  life 
 of  privation,  toil,  peril,  contempt :  in  such 
 cases  as  these,  it  was  noble  to  disdain  all 
 consequences;  it  was  noble  to  take  the 
 right  path ;  in  which  God  beckoned  on  ; 
 and  to  leave  the  care  of  the  results  to  God 
 Himself!  Ibid. 
 
 CONSIDEKATION— Fruit  of. 
 
 Consideration  is  the  bed  where  the  in- 
 corruptible seed  is  sown,  and  on  the  ground 
 thus  prepared  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
 doth  shine,  and  by  His  warmth  jjroduces 
 in  the  soul  all  manner  of  pleasant  fruits. 
 Consideration,  like  the  Pool  of  Bethesda, 
 draws  the  great  Angel  of  the  Covenant 
 down,  who  stirs  the  Pool,  and  gives  it  a 
 healing  virtue,  and  immediately  the  blind 
 i-eceive  their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk,  and 
 the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  dead  are 
 raised  up  (Matt,  xi,  5). 
 
 Anthony  Horneck. 
 
 CONSIDERATION— Nature  of. 
 
 Consideration  is  that  glass  which  repre- 
 sents spiritual  objects  in  other  colours  than 
 
 were  before  observed  and  detected  in  them. 
 Sin,  that  looked  but  with  a  faint  red  before, 
 through  this  glass  appears  all  scarlet  and 
 crimson.  God's  laws,  which  before  were 
 hardly  so  much  as  human  injunctions, 
 tiirough  this  glass  appear  so  beautiful,  so 
 rational,  so  wise,  so  wonderful,  so  suiting 
 to  an  intelligent  Nature,  that  a  man,  with 
 David,  cannot  hold,  but  must  cry  out,  "  O 
 how  love  I  Thy  law  !  it  is  my  meditation 
 all  the  day.  I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  per- 
 fection, but  Thy  commandment  is  exceeding 
 broad."  The  New  Jerusalem,  which  looked 
 but  like  aiT  ordinary  building,  when  viewed 
 through  this  glass,  the  tow^er  and  bulwarks 
 of  it  are  seen  glittering  afar  oft",  the  pearls 
 and  precious  stones  it  is  paved  with  shine 
 with  more  than  ordinary  lustre;  and  that 
 which  looked  but  dull  and  weak  before, 
 now  dazzles  the  spectator's  eyes  with  its 
 oriental  brightness.  Till  consideration 
 came  in,  th6  Prodigal  saw  little.  He  heard 
 men  talk  of  the  beauty  of  God's  ways ;  but 
 alas,  he  saw  no  such  thing.  To  him  they 
 looked  as  the  way  of  Sion,  rvigged,  uneven, 
 and  unfrequented  ;  and  the  fruits  of  the 
 Spirit  appeared  unpleasant,  and  ill-tasted, 
 fitter  for  the  rabble  and  scum  of  mankind 
 than  men  of  a  brisk  airy  temper.  But  he 
 no  sooner  oj^ens  the  window,  and  lets  in 
 these  beams  of  consideration,  but  all  those 
 fancies,  as  witches  at  the  name  of  Jesus, 
 vanish,  and  he  is  wrapt  into  that  high 
 esteem  of  the  ways  of  God,  that  he  prefers 
 being  but  a  door-keeper  in  the  house  of 
 God,  before  the  oifice  of  Grand  Vizier  at 
 the  Court  of  Aliasuerus. 
 
 Anthony  SornecTc. 
 
 CONSIDERATION— Power  of. 
 
 A  pious  and  venerable  father  had  a  vain 
 and  profligate  son ;  often  had  he  reasoned 
 and  expostulated  with  him,  mingling  ten- 
 derness with  advice,  and  tears  with  remon- 
 strance; but  all  was  ineflectual.  Bad 
 company  and  vicious  habits  rendered  the 
 unhappy  youth  deaf  to  instructions.  At 
 last  a  fatal  disorder  seized  his  aged  parent, 
 who  calling  his  son  to  him,  entreated  him 
 with  his  dying  breath  that  he  would  grant 
 him  one  small  favour,  the  promise  of  which 
 would  alleviate  the  pangs  of  dissolving 
 nature.  It  was  this, — that  his  son  would 
 retire  to  his  chamber  half  an  hour  every 
 day  for  some  months  after  his  decease.  He 
 prescribed  no  particular  subject  to  employ 
 his  thoughts,  but  left  that  to  himself. 
 
 A  request  so  simple  and  easy,  urged  by 
 parental  affection  from  the  couch  of  death, 
 was  not  to  be  denied.  The  youth  pledged 
 his  honour  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise ; 
 and  when  he  became  an  orphan  punctually 
 performed  it.  At  first  he  was  not  disposed 
 to  improve  the  minutes  of  solitude,  but  in 
 time  various  reflections  arose  in  his  mind ; 
 the  world  was  witlidi-awn ;  his  conscience 
 
190 
 
 CONSISTENCY—  CONSTANCY. 
 
 awolce ;  it  reproved  liiin  for  having  slighted 
 a  parent  who  had  done  so  much  i'or  his 
 welfare  ;  it  renewed  the  impression  of  his 
 dying  scene ;  it  gradually  pointed  him  to  a 
 supreme  Cause,  a  future  judgment,  and  a 
 solemn  eternity.  God  was  pleased  to 
 sanctify  these  solitary  moments,  and  to 
 strengthen  his  convictions.  Retirement 
 effected  what  advice  could  not  do,  and  a 
 real  and  permanent  change  took  place.  He 
 quitted  his  companions  and  reformed  his 
 conduct ;  virtue  and  piety  filled  up  the  rest 
 of  his  days,  and  stamped  sincerity  on  his 
 repentance.  To  say  all  in  a  word—  he  lived 
 and  died  a  Christian.  K.  Arvine. 
 
 CONSISTENCY— Christian. 
 
 As  I  have  known  an  infant  bear  such 
 striking  resemblance  to  his  fiither  that 
 what  the  tongue  could  not  tell,  his  face 
 did;  and  people,  struck  by  the  likeness 
 remarked  of  the  nursling.  He  is  the  very 
 image  of  his  father ; — so  the  Christian  life, 
 without  any  occasion  for  his  lips  talking  it, 
 should  proclaim  him  to  the  world  a  child  of 
 God.  Dr.  Guthrie, 
 
 That  wisdom.  Lord,  on  us  bestow, 
 
 From  every  evil  to  depart. 
 To  stop  the  mouth  of  every  foe ; 
 
 While  upright  both  in  life  and  heart, 
 The  proofs  of  godly  fear  we  give. 
 And  show  them  how  the  Christians  live. 
 
 C.  Wesley. 
 
 CONSISTENCY  (Christian)— Necessity  of. 
 
 As  the  dial  is  of  no  use  in  telling  the 
 observer  the  time  of  the  day  unless  it  be 
 correctly  set  and  the  sun  shine  upon  it;  so 
 the  Christian  conveys  no  scriptural  impres- 
 sions of  the  Saviour's  religion,  unless  his 
 heart  be  made  right  by  grace,  and  his  life 
 be  shone  upon  by  the  light  of  the  Sun  of 
 Righteousness.  John  Bate. 
 
 Watch'd  by  the  world's  malignant  eye. 
 Who  load  us  with  reproach  and  shame. 
 
 As  servants  of  the  Lord  Most  High, 
 As  zealous  for  His  glorious  Name, 
 
 We  ought  in  all  His  paths  to  move 
 
 With  holy  fear  and  humble  love. 
 
 C.  WesIP!/. 
 
 CONSISTENCY  (Christian)— Power  of. 
 
 Thoy  say  the  world  has  an  eagle  eye  for 
 anything  inconsistent ;  and  it  has  an  eagle 
 eye,  sharp  to  discover  the  vagaries  and  in- 
 consistencies in  the  defaulty  and  the  un- 
 worthy. It  has  an  eagle  eye,  but  the  eagle 
 winks  before  the  sun,  and  the  burning  iris 
 of  its  eye  shrinks  abashed  before  the  un- 
 sullied purity  of  noon.  Let  your  light  so 
 shine  before  men,  that  others,  awed  and 
 charmed  by  the  consistency  of  your  godly 
 life,  may  come  to  inquire  and  to  say  they 
 have  been  with  Jesus.         W.  M.  Fuiishon. 
 
 CONSISTENCY  (Christian)— Power  of. 
 
 W^hen  Lord  Peterborough  lodged  for  a 
 season  with  Fenton,  Archbishop  of  Cara- 
 bray,  he  was  so  delighted  with  his  piety 
 and  virtue,  that  he  exclaimed  at  parting, 
 "  If  I  stay  here  any  longer,  I  shall  become 
 a  Christian  in  spite  of  myself."  A  young 
 minister  when  about  to  be  ordained  stated 
 that  at  one  period  of  his  life  he  was  nearly 
 an  infidel :  "  but,"  said  he,  "  there  was  one 
 argument  in  favour  of  Christianity  which 
 I  could  never  refute, — the  consistent  con- 
 duct of  uiy  own  father."        J.  Whitecross. 
 
 CONSISTENCY  (Christian)— Universal. 
 
 The  philosopher's  good  man  is  {Tetra- 
 
 gonos)  four-square ;    cast  him  where   yon 
 
 will,  like  a  dye,  he  falls  always  square  and 
 
 sure;    so  cast  a  gracious  man  where  you 
 
 will,    and   into   what   company   you    will, 
 
 and    into    what    condition   you    will,   yet 
 
 still  he  falls  sure  and  square  for  God  and 
 
 godliness.     Let  the  times  be  never  so  sad, 
 
 nor  never  so  bad,  yet  a  gracious  soul  will 
 
 i  keep  his  hold ;    he  will  let  all  go  before  he 
 
 i  will  let  his  God  go,  or  his  religion  go,  or 
 
 !  his  integrity  go. 
 
 A  gracious  Christian  is  like  gold.  Now 
 cast  gold  into  the  fire,  or  into  the  water  j 
 cast  it  upon  the  dunghill,  or  into  the 
 kennel ;  cast  it  among  the  poor,  or  among 
 the  rich,  among  the  religious,  or  among 
 the  wicked,  yet  still  it  is  gold,  still  it  retains 
 its  purity  and  excellency ;  so  cast  a  gracious 
 Christian  (who  is  the  only  golden  Christian 
 in  the  world)  into  what  condition  you  will, 
 and  into  what  company  you  will,  yet  still 
 he  will  retain  his  purity,  his  innocency. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 
 As  flowers  always  wear  their  own  colours 
 and  give  forth  their  own  fragrance  every 
 day  alike,  so  should  Christians  maintain 
 their  character  at  all  times  and  under  all 
 circumstances.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CONSOLATION— Definition  of. 
 
 What  is  consolation  ?  It  is  the  relief  of 
 mind  under  any  trouble  or  pain;  or  the 
 presence  and  enjoyment  of  a  good  which  is 
 able  to  prevent  altogether,  or  else  carry 
 away  and  bear  down  before  it,  as  in  a  full 
 tide  or  flowing  stream,  all  evil  felt  or  feared. 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 CONSTANCY— Definition  of. 
 
 Constancy  prevents  from  changing,  and 
 furnishes  the  mind  with  resources  against 
 weariness  or  disgust  of  the  same  object;  it 
 preserves  and  supports  an  attachment 
 under  every  change  of  circumstances. 
 
 G.  Crahb. 
 CONSTANCY— Fixedness  of. 
 I  am  constant,  as  the  northern  star, 
 Of  whose  true-fix'd  and  resting  quality 
 
CONSTANCY— CONSUBSTANTIATIOir. 
 
 191 
 
 There  is  no  fellow  in  tlie  firmament. 
 
 The  skies  are  painted  with  unnumber'd 
 sparks. 
 
 They  are  all  fire,  and  every  one  doth 
 shine ; 
 
 But  there's  but  one  in  all  doth  hold  his 
 place  : 
 
 So,  in  the  world,  'tis  furnished  well  with 
 men. 
 
 And  men  are  flesh  and  blood,  and  appre- 
 hensive ; 
 
 Yet,  in  the  number,  I  do  know  but  one 
 
 That  unassailable  holds  on  his  rank, 
 
 Unshaked  of  motion.  Shalcespeare. 
 
 CONSTANCY— Necessity  of. 
 
 Without  constancy  there  is  neither  love, 
 friendship,  nor  virtue,  in  the  world. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 CONSTANCY— Christian. 
 
 Christian  constancy  is  a  firm  and  un- 
 wavering adherence  to  the  profession  and 
 practice  of  the  Christian  religion  at  all 
 times  and  under  all  circumstances.  It  is 
 manifested  : — 1.  In  our  prayers  (Luke 
 xviii,  1 ;  1  Thes.  v,  17, 18).  2.  In  our  pur- 
 suit of  a  higher  religious  life :  "  Let  us  go 
 on  unto  perfection,"  &c.  3.  In  our  endea- 
 vours to  do  good  :  "  Be  not  weary  in  well- 
 doing :"  "  to  do  good,  forget  not,"  &c. 
 4.  In  our  attention  to  the  means  of  grace 
 (Heb.  X,  25).  5.  In  our  determination  to 
 endure  unto  the  end  and  be  saved  for  ever. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CONSTANCY  (Christian)— Failing  in. 
 
 You  are  thinking  of  the  thriving  trades- 
 man whose  upward  course  you  marked  for 
 so  many  years.  How  regular  he  was  in 
 the  sanctuary  !  How  fervent  his  zeal !  How 
 admirable  his  devotedness  to  God !  In 
 business  affairs  he  was  honest,  and  affable, 
 and  diligent,  and  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
 prospered  him.  His  liberality  increased, 
 and  many  rejoiced  in  his  light,  or  sat  under 
 his  shadow  with  great  delight.  He  was  a 
 pillar,  at  once  adding  to  the  comeliness  and 
 to  the  strength  of  the  building.  His  bene- 
 ficence continues  to  this  day,  but  what 
 about  his  personal  service  ?  What  about 
 his  religious  habits  ?  Where  is  his  former 
 activity  ?  Where  is  now  his  zeal,  once  so 
 urgent  that  it  almost  verged  upon  fanati- 
 cism ?  Ah  !  was  it  then,  just  then,  when 
 the  Lord  increased  his  capabilities  and 
 augmented  his  resources  of  usefulness — was 
 it  then  that  the  spirit  of  the  world  crept 
 in  ?  Is  his  zeal  a  matter  of  history  ?  Do 
 the  children  of  the  church  know  anything 
 about  him  ?  Do  they  wonder  that  he  was 
 ever  such  an  orderly,  punctual,  active  office- 
 bearer as  their  fathers  tell  them  he  was — 
 lie,  so  infrequent  in  his  attendance  on  the 
 sanctuary — he,  so  proverbial  for  his  late- 
 ness,  partly   habitual,   partly   sensational 
 
 when  he  does  come — he,  whose  voice  is  so 
 seldom  heard  in  prayer — he,  wlio  never 
 gladdens  the  humble  ones  of  the  Lord's 
 vintage  by  his  presence  in  their  goodly 
 fellowship — he,  who  has  left  all  the  toil  of 
 the  Redeemer's  service  to  be  done  by  liis 
 poorer  brethren,  condoning  for  his  forsaken 
 labour  by  his  willingness,  it  may  be  to 
 direct,  and  it  may  be  to  subscribe.  Is 
 it  so  that  the  spirit  of  the  world  has  crept 
 in,  and  that,  in  grievous  abandonment  of 
 his  former  energy,  he  has  grown  weary  in 
 well-doing  ?  W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 CONSTANCY  (Christian)— Incentives  to. 
 
 If  you  weary  in  well-doing  you  will  be 
 the  only  recreants  from  duty.  The  same 
 examples  of  constancy  which  fired  your  holy 
 ambition  when  you  began  are  working:  in 
 their  order  still.  Everything  which  God 
 has  made,  falters  not  in  the  fulfilment  of 
 the  purpose  of  its  being.  Look  at  the 
 material  creation.  The  ancient  sun — shines 
 he  not  as  brilliantly  to-day,  though  he  has 
 had  to  struggle  through  the  darkness  of  aU 
 the  nights  of  time,  as  when  he  blessed  the 
 virgin  sky  upon  the  morning  of  the  fourth 
 day  ?  Doth  not  ocean  still  weave  its  min- 
 strelsy ?  Is  not  the  fi-ee  air  still  on  un- 
 drooping  wing  ?  Do  not  all  the  processes 
 of  nature's  laboratory  go  constantly  and 
 vigorously  on  ?  And  He — the  Mighty  One 
 who  inspired  the  sun,  who  launched  the 
 twin  oceans  of  sea  and  air,  who  is  the  great 
 informing  soul  of  nature — is  He  weary  in 
 well-doing  ?  Do  not  His  men'ies  beam 
 successive,  as  His  suns  arise  ?  Has  not  His 
 long-suffering  borne  with  your  ill-manners, 
 and  restrained  his  vengeance,  and  dropped 
 the  lifted  thunder  ?  Doth  His  Spirit  tire 
 of  striving  ?  Is  there  any  pause  in  the  in- 
 tercession of  His  Son  ?  Nay,  are  the  ranks 
 of  evil  weary  ?  Death — doth  he  not  still 
 stalk,  sword  in  hand,  over  the  great  battle- 
 field of  life  ?  The  emissaries  of  sin — are 
 they  not  zealously  active,  where  human 
 tempters  traffic  in  the  souls  of  men  ? 
 Lurks  not  ever  and  always  the  ancient 
 enemy  for  the  destruction  of  the  race 
 which  he  first  tempted  to  fall  ?  The 
 whole  univei-se  is  in  earnest  for  good  or 
 for  evil.  Oh  !  let  this  example  stimulate 
 our  flagging  energies  and  nerve  our  failing 
 strength !  Let  us  not  be  weary  in  well 
 doing  !  Look  in  the  book  of  God's  Bible 
 and  in  the  book  of  God's  Providence,  and 
 discover  activity  and  power  in  both.  We 
 wiU  not  linger  in  the  way  in  which  God 
 has  caused  us  to  travel.  With  a  work  be- 
 fore us  that  might  fill  a  seraph's  heart,  we 
 will  not  be  weary  in  well-doing,  because,  in 
 due  season,  we  shall  reap  if  we  faint  not. 
 Ibid. 
 
 CONSUBSTANTIATION— Definition  of. 
 
 Consubstantiation    is    a    tenet    of    the 
 
192 
 
 CONTEMPLATION— CONTENTMENT. 
 
 Lntlieran  Church  respecting  the  presence 
 ot  Christ  in  the  Lord's  Supper.  Luther 
 denied  that  the  elements  were  changed 
 after  consecration,  and  therefore  taught 
 that  the  bread  and  wine  indeed  remain ; 
 but  that  together  with  them,  thei-e  is  pre- 
 sent the  substance  of  the  body  of  Christ, 
 which  is  literally  received  by  communi- 
 cants. As  in  red-hot  iron  it  may  be  said 
 two  distinct  substances,  iron  and  tire  are 
 united,  so  is  the  body  of  Christ  joined  with 
 the  bread.  M.  Watson. 
 
 CONTEMPLATION— Holy. 
 
 Saint  Bernard  sweetly  compares  con- 
 templation to  the  eagle;  for  as  the  eagle  is 
 still  fastening  her  eye  upon  the  radiant 
 beams  of  the  beautiful  sun,  so  contempla- 
 tion is  still  viewing  the  glorious  beams  of 
 the  Sun  of  Righteousness ;  it  is  still  con- 
 versant about  the  high  and  profitable 
 things  of  salvation  •  or  else  I  may  compare 
 it  to  those  birds  of  whom  David  speaks, 
 who  build  their  nest  by  the  altar  of  God. 
 This  is  that  celestial  bird  that  builds  her 
 nest  about  the  throne  of  glory.  This  is  the 
 bee  which  flieth  into  the  sweetest  gardens, 
 and  sucks  honey  irom  every  flower  of 
 paradise.  By  meditation  I  can  converse 
 with  God,  solace  myself  on  the  bosom  of 
 my  Beloved,  bathe  myself  in  rivers  of  plea- 
 sure, tread  the  paths  of  my  rest  and  view 
 the  mansions  of  my  eternity.  What  makest 
 thou,  then,  O,  my  soul,  in  this  valley  of 
 tears  ?  Up  upon  the  mount,  and  view  the 
 land  of  promise.  What  makest  thou  in 
 this  wilderness  of  trouble  ?  Up  upon  the 
 wing,  and  take  thy  flight  to  heaven;  let 
 thy  thought  be  where  thy  happiness  is, 
 and  let  thy  heart  be  where  thy  thoughts 
 are;  though  thy  habitation  may  be  on 
 earth,  yet  thy  conversation  shall  be  in 
 heaven.  Anon. 
 
 CONTEMPLATION  AND  ACTION. 
 
 Let  us  seek  to  unite  these  two  elements 
 in  due  proportion  in  our  own  life.  Mary- 
 like, let  us  often  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus 
 and  converse  with  Him ;  Martha-like,  let 
 us  serve  Him  in  whatever  sphere  of  duty  we 
 may  be  placed.  In  the  harmony  of  these 
 two  elements  lies  the  perfection  of  Christian 
 character.  They  are  not  contradictory  and 
 incompatible,  but  mutually  helpful  to  each 
 other.  Contemplation  will  strengthen  us 
 for  action,  and  action  will  send  us  back 
 again  to  contemplation.  The  inner  life  and 
 the  outward. life  will  thus  be  harmoniously 
 developed  and,  living  Mary-like  tipon 
 Christ,  we  shall,  Martha-like,  live/o/-  Christ. 
 A.  L.  E.  Foote. 
 
 CONTEMPT— Nature  of. 
 
 Contempt  naturally  implies  a  man's 
 esteeming  of  himself  greater  than  the  per- 
 son whom  he  contemns;  he  therefore  that 
 
 slights,  that  contemns  an  affront,  is  properly 
 superior  to  it ;  and  he  conquers  an  injury 
 who  conquers  his  resentments  of  it.  Soc- 
 rates being  kicked  by  an  ass,  did  not  think 
 it  a  revenge  proper  for  Socrates  to  kick  the 
 ass  again.  Dr.  South. 
 
 CONTEMPT— Silent. 
 
 Contempt  is  a  noble  and  an  innocent  re- 
 venge ;  and  silence  the  fullest  expression  of 
 it.  Except  only  storms  and  tempests,  the 
 greatest  things  of  the  world  are  seldom 
 loud.  Tumult  and  noise  usually  rise  from 
 the  conflict  of  contrary  things  in  a  narrow 
 passage ;  and  just  so  does  the  loudness  of 
 wrath  and  reviling  argue  a  contracted 
 breast  :  such  an  one  as  has  not  room 
 enough  to  wield  and  manage  its  own  actions 
 with  stillness  and  composure.  Ibid. 
 
 CONTENTION— Christian. 
 
 It  is  as  hard  a  thing  to  maintain  a  sound 
 understanding,  a  tender  conscience,  a  lively, 
 gracious,  heavenly  frame  of  spirit,  and  an 
 upright  life,  amid  contention,  as  to  keep 
 your  candle  lighted  in  the  greatest  storms. 
 Baxter. 
 
 God  grant  that  we  may  contend  with 
 other  churches  as  the  vine  with  the  olive — 
 which  of  us  shall  bear  the  best  fruit ;  but 
 not  as  the  briar  with  the  thistle,  which 
 of  us  will  be  most  unprofitable. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 
 CONTENTION— like  Fire. 
 
 Contention  is  like  fire,  for  both  burn  so 
 long  as  there  is  any  exhaustible  matter 
 to  contend  with.  Only  herein  it  tran- 
 scends fire ;  for  fire  begets  not  matter,  but 
 consumes  it;  debates  beget  matter,  but 
 not  consumes  it.  For  the  wicked  study 
 causes  of  contention,  as  Benhadad  did 
 against  Ahab  (1  King  xx).  So  when  the 
 pojje  could  find  no  just  exception  against 
 Frederick,  the  Emperor,  he  quarrelled  with 
 him  for  holding  the  wrong  stirrup,  when 
 the  great  prelate  should  mount  his  pal- 
 fery ;  and  though  he  might  easily  mistake, 
 for  emperors  are  not  used  to  hold  stirrups, 
 yet  he  was  persecuted  almost  to  excommu- 
 nication for  it.  T.  Adams. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Definitions  of. 
 
 Contentment,  taken  iu  a  large  sense,  is 
 that  virtue  whereby  a  man  is  easy  in 
 whatever  state  and  condition  he  is  placed; 
 and  denotes  an  evenness  and  sedateness  of 
 temper.  But  in  a  more  strict  sense  it  is 
 that  virtue  whereby  a  man  rests  satisfied 
 with  tlie  enjoyment  of  those  things  that 
 are  at  present  necessary  for  the  support  of 
 himself  and  family.  Limborch. 
 
 Contentment  consisteth  not  in  adding 
 more  fuel,  but  in  taking  away  some  fire; 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 193 
 
 not  in  multiplying  of  wealth,  but  in  sub- 
 tiMcting  men's  desires.  Worldly  ricbes, 
 liUe  nuts,  tear  many  clothes  in  getting 
 them,  but  fill  no  belly  with  eathig  them, 
 obstructing  only  the  stomach  with  tough- 
 ness, and  filling  the  bowels  with  windiness. 
 Yea.  your  souls  may  sooner  surfeit  than  be 
 satisfied  with  earthly  things.  He  that  at 
 first  thought  ten  thousand  pounds  too  much 
 for  any  one  man,  will  afterwards  think  ten 
 millions  too  little  for  himself.       T.  Fuller. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Finding. 
 
 A  pious  liishop  having  strugjjled  through 
 preat  difficulties  without  complaining,  and 
 met  with  much  opposition  in  the  discharge 
 of  his  functions  without  ever  betraying  the 
 least  impatience,  an  intimate  friend  of  his, 
 who  highly  admired  those  virtues,  which  he 
 conceived  it  impossible  to  imitate,  one  day 
 asked  the  prelate  if  he  could  tell  him  the 
 secret  of  being  always  easy.  "  Yes,"  replied 
 the  old  man ;  "  I  can  teach  you  my  secret, 
 and  will  do  so  very  readily.  It  consists  in 
 nothing  more  than  in  making  great  use  of 
 my  eyes."  His  friend  begged  him  to  explain. 
 "Most  willingly,"  said  the -bishop.  "In 
 Avbatever  state  I  am,  I  first  of  all  look  up 
 to  heaven,  and  remember  that  my  principal 
 business  here  is  to  get  there;  I  then  look 
 down  upon  the  earth,  and  call  to  mind  the 
 spnce  I  shall  shortly  occupy  in  it;  I  then 
 look  abroad  into  the  world,  and  observe 
 what  multitudes  there  are  who  in  all  re- 
 spects have  more  cause  to  be  unhappy  than 
 myself.  Thus  I  learn  where  true  happiness 
 is  placed,  where  all  our  cares  must  end, 
 and  how  very  little  reason  I  have  to  repine 
 or  complain."  Anon. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Happiness  in. 
 
 If  men  knew  what  felicity  dwells  in  the 
 cottage  of  a  godly  man,  how  sound  he 
 sleeps,  how  quiet  his  rest,  how  composed 
 his  mind,  how  free  from  care,  how  easy  liis 
 position,  how  moist  his  mouth,  how  joyful 
 his  heart,  they  would  never  admire  the 
 noises,  the  diseases,  the  throngs  of  passions, 
 and  the  violence  of  unnatural  appetites, 
 that  fill  the  bouse  of  the  luxurious  and  the 
 heart  of  the  ambitious.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 
 
 Little  be  it  or  much ; 
 And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave. 
 
 Because  Thou  savest  such. 
 
 Fulness  a  burden  is  to  such 
 
 That  go  on  pilgrimage ; 
 Here  little,  and  hereafter  much 
 
 Is  best  from  age  to  age.  Bunyan. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Help  to. 
 
 How  many  deaf,  dumb,  halt,  lame,  and 
 blind  miserable  persons  could  I  reckon  up 
 
 that  are  poor,  and  withal  distressed,  in 
 imprisonment,  banishment,  galley-slaves, 
 condemned  to  the  mines,  quarries,  to  gyves, 
 in  dungeons,  perpetual  thraldom,  than  all 
 which  thou  art  richer,  thou  art  more  happy, 
 to  whom  thou  art  able  to  give  an  alms,  a 
 lord,  in  respect,  a  petty  prince.  Be  con- 
 tented, then,  I  say,  repine  and  mutter  no 
 more,  for  thou  art  not  poor  indeed  but  in 
 opinion.  H.  Barton. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— with  our  Lot. 
 
 Learn  to  be  contented  with  your  condi- 
 tion. Is  that  animal  better  that  hath  two 
 or  three  mountains  to  graze  on  than  a 
 little  bee  that  feeds  on  dew  or  manna,  and 
 lives  on  what  falls  every  morning  from  the 
 clouds,  the  storehouses  of  heaven  ?  Can  a 
 man  quench  his  thirst  better  out  of  a  river 
 than  a  full  cup,  or  drink  better  from  the 
 fountain  which  is  finely  paved  with  marble 
 than  when  it  wells  over  the  green  turf? 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— A  Mind  of. 
 
 I  weigh  not  Fortune's  frown  or  smile, 
 
 I  joy  not  much  in  earthly  joys; 
 
 I  seek  not  state,  I  reck  not  style, 
 
 I  am  not  fond  of  fancy's  toys ; 
 
 I  rest  so  pleased  with  what  I  have, 
 
 I  wish  no  more,  no  more  I  crave. 
 
 I  quake  not  at  the  thunder's  crack, 
 I  tremble  not  at  noise  of  war, 
 
 I  swoon  not  at  the  news  of  wrack, 
 I  sink  not  at  a  blazing  star ; 
 
 I  fear  not  loss,  I  hope  not  gain, 
 
 I  envy  none,  I  none  disdain. 
 
 I  see  ambition  never  pleased, 
 
 I  see  some  Tautals  starv'd  in  store; 
 
 I  see  gold's  dropsy  seldom  eased, 
 I  see  e'en  Midas  gape  for  more. 
 
 I  neither  want  nor  yet  abound; 
 
 Enough's  a  feast ;  content  is  crown' d. 
 
 I  feign  not  friendship  where  I  hate, 
 I  fawn  not  on  the  great  in  show, 
 
 I  prize,  1  praise  a  mean  estate. 
 Neither  too  lofty  nor  too  low ; 
 
 This,  this  is  all  my  choice,  my  cheer, 
 
 A  mind  content,  a  conscience  clcHr. 
 
 Joshua  Sylvester. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Nature  of. 
 
 Gotthold  recollected  having  once  read 
 that  if  a  cup  be  filled  with  water  to  the 
 brim,  so  that  the  smallest  addition  of  any 
 fluid  would  cause  it  to  overflow,  it  is, 
 nevertheless,  possible  to  drop  into  it  se- 
 veral gold  coins  without  any  such  effect. 
 He  tried  the  experiment,  and  finding  it 
 successful,  remarked:  What  a  beautiful 
 image  I  have  here  of  a  contented  Christian 
 heart !  God  gives  us  the  necessaries  of 
 life  in  full  measure,  and  if  we  have  these 
 we  ought  to  be  content.  Somet'mes,  too, 
 13 
 
194 
 
 CONTENTMEIIT— CONTINENCY. 
 
 He  also  gives  us  superfluities,  and  drops 
 one  or  more  gold  pieces  into  our  cup.  Un- 
 fortunately, however,  there  are  too  many 
 whom  this  makes  wanton,  proud,  and 
 haughty,  and  who  overflow  in  pomp,  pro- 
 digality, and  contempt  of  their  poorer 
 neighbours.  It  should  not  be  so.  We 
 ought  to  learn  both  how  to  abound  and 
 how  to  surt'er  need  with  equanimity. 
 Kiches  and  prosperity  ought  not  to  in- 
 flate our  pride.  We  should  keep  ourselves 
 under  the  restraint  of  humility,  and  show 
 gratitude  to  God,  and  generosity  to  our 
 brethren.  In  that  case,  methinks,  this 
 cup  will  be  our  appropriate  emblem. 
 
 My  God,  give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
 riclies;  but  whatsoever  it  may  be  Thy 
 will  to  give,  give  me  with  it  a  heart  which 
 knows  humbly  to  acquiesce  in  what  is  Thy 
 wiU.  Gotthold. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— Eewarded. 
 
 Once  upon  a  time,  Frederick,  King  of 
 Prussia,  surnamed  "  Old  Fritz,"  took  a 
 ride,  and  espied  an  old  farmer  ploughing 
 his  acre  by  the  wayside,  cheerily  singing 
 his  melody. 
 
 "  You  must  be  well  off,  old  man,"  said 
 the  king.  "  Does  this  acre  belong  to  you, 
 on  which  you  so  industriously  labour  ?" 
 
 "No,  sir,"  replied  the  farmer,  wlio  knew 
 not  tliat  it  was  the  king;  "I  am  not  so 
 rich  as  that ;  I  plough  for  wages." 
 -    "  How  much  do  you  get  a  day  ?"  asked 
 the  king. 
 
 "  Eight  groschen"  (about  tenpence),  said 
 the  farmer. 
 
 "That  is  not  much,"  replied  the  king; 
 "can  you  get  along  with  this  ?" 
 
 "  Get  along,  and  have  something  left." 
 
 "  How  is  that  ?" 
 
 The  farmer  smiled  and  said — 
 
 "  Well,  if  I  must  tell  you — Two  groschen 
 are  for  myself  and  wife;  two  I  pay  my 
 old  debts;  two  I  lend  away,  and  two  I 
 give  away  for  the  Lord's  sake." 
 
 "  This  is  a  mystery  which  I  cannot  solve," 
 replied  the  king. 
 
 "  Then  I  will  solve  it  for  you,"  said  the 
 farmer. 
 
 "  I  have  two  old  parents  at  home  who 
 kept  me  when  I  was  weak  and  needed 
 help;  and  now  that  they  are  weak  and 
 need  help  I  keep  them.  This  is  my  debt 
 towards  which  I  pay  two  groschens  a 
 day.  The  third  pair  of  groschen,  which  I 
 lend  away,  I  spend  for  my  children,  that 
 they  may  receive  Christian  instruction. 
 Tliis  will  come  handy  to  me  and  my  wife 
 when  we  get  old.  With  the  last  two 
 groschen  I  maintain  two  sick  sisters,  whom 
 I  would  not  be  compelled  to  keep;  this  I 
 give  for  the  Lord's  sake." 
 
 The  king,  well  pleased  with  the  answer, 
 said — 
 
 "  Bravely  spoken,  old  man.     Now  I  will 
 
 also  give  you  something  to  guess.  Have 
 you  ever  seen  me  bef(jre  ?" 
 
 "  Never,"  said  the  farmer. 
 
 "  In  less  than  five  minutes  you  shall  see 
 me  fifty  times,  and  carry  in  your  pocket 
 fifty  of  my  likenesses." 
 
 "This  is  a  riddle  which  I  cannot  un- 
 ravel," said  the  farmer. 
 
 "Then  I  will  do  it  for  you,"  said  the 
 king. 
 
 Thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and 
 counting  him  fifty  bran  new  gold  pieces 
 into  his  hand,  stamped  with  liis  royal 
 likeness,  he  said  to  the  astonished  farmer, 
 who  knew  not  what  was  coming: 
 
 "  The  coin  is  genuine,  for  it  also  comes 
 from  our  Lord  God,  and  I  am  His  pay- 
 master.     I  bid  you  adieu."  Anon. 
 
 CONTENTMENT— not  in  Riches. 
 
 A  man  diseased  in  body  can  have  little 
 joy  of  his  wealth,  be  it  ever  so  much.  A 
 golden  crown  cannot  cure  the  headache, 
 nor  a  velvet  slipper  give  ease  to  the  gout, 
 nor  a  purple  robe  fray  away  a  burning 
 fever;  a  sick  man  is  alike  sick  wherever 
 you  lay  him— on  a  bed  of  gold,  or  on  a  pad 
 of  straw ;  with  a  silk  quilt  or  a  sorry  rag  on 
 him ;  so  no  more  can  riches,  gold,  or  silver, 
 land  and  livings,  had  a  man  ever  so  much, 
 minister  unto  him  much  joy,  yea,  or  any 
 true  joy  at  all,  where  the  mind  is  distract 
 and  discontent.  Without  contentment 
 there  is  no  joy  of  ought,  there  is  no  profit, 
 no  pleasure  in  anything.  Spencer. 
 
 CONTENTMENT- Satisfaction  of. 
 
 la  tliis  age  of  restlessness  and  wild 
 speculation,  when  so  many  are  searching 
 eagerly  for  happiness,  and  sighing,  after 
 numerous  disappointments,  "  Who  will 
 show  us  any  good  ? "  it  is  refreshing  to 
 meet  with  a  contented  Clrristian  heart, 
 which  has  found  true  peace  by  living  in 
 constant  communion  with  God. 
 
 Said  a  venerable  farmer,  some  eighty 
 years  old,  to  a  relative  who  had  lately 
 visited  him :  "  I  have  lived  on  this  farm 
 for  more  than  half  a  century.  I  have  no 
 desire  to  change  my  residence  as  long  as  I 
 live  on  earth.  I  have  no  desire  to  be  any 
 richer  than  I  now  am.  I  have  worshipped 
 the  God  of  my  fathers  with  the  same  people 
 for  more  than  forty  years.  During  the 
 time  I  have  rarely  been  absent  from  the 
 sanctuary  on  the  Sabbath,  and  have  never 
 lost  one  communion  season.  I  have  never 
 been  confined  to  my  bed  by  sickness  a 
 single  day.  The  blessings  of  God  have 
 been  richly  spread  around  me,  and  I  made 
 up  my  mind  long  ago,  that  if  I  wished  to 
 be  happier  I  must  have  more  religion. 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 
 C9NTINENCY— Soyal. 
 
 Antiochus,  the  third  king  of  Macedon, 
 
CONTINENCY— CONVERSATION. 
 
 195 
 
 perceiving  a  growing  passion  for  the 
 priestess  of  Diana,  a  young  lady  of  incom- 
 parable beauty,  left  his  palace,  and  retired 
 for  some  time  into  Ephesus  ;  lest  the  sight 
 of  such  an  alluring  object  might  tempt  him 
 to  transgress  against  the  piety  due  to  her 
 order.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 Henry  IV,  king  of  England,  though 
 unhappy  in  his  family  and  government, 
 was  nevertheless  possessed  of  many  vh-tues. 
 He  was  so  remarkable  for  his  chastity,  that 
 before  his  marriage  he  would  not  allow  any 
 lady  of  a  suspicious  character  and  un- 
 guarded conduct  to  frequent  the  court; 
 and  having  observed  one  day  some  ladies 
 with  their  bosoms  uncovered,  he  turned 
 away  his  eyes  from  them,  and  reprimanded 
 them  smartly  in  the  simple  di;ilect  of  the 
 times:  "Fie,  fie,"  said  he,  "for  shame; 
 forsooth,  ye  be  to  blame."  Ibid. 
 
 CONTINENCY  AND  CHASTITY. 
 
 Continency  is  that  moral  virtue  by  which 
 we  restrain  concupiscence.  There  is  this 
 distinction  between  chastity  and  conti- 
 nency :  Chastity  requires  no  effort,  because 
 it  may  result  from  constitution,  whereas 
 continency  appears  to  be  the  consequence 
 of  a  victory  gained  over  ourselves.  The 
 term  is  most  usually  applied  to  men;  as 
 chastity  is  to  women.  C.  Buck. 
 
 CONTEITION  FOR  SIN. 
 
 A  bruised  reed  is  an  expressive  emblem 
 of  the  soul,  broken  and  contrite  on  account 
 of  sin,  weeping  and  mourning  for  trans- 
 gression. Christ  will  not  break  it — that 
 is.  He  will  not  be  haughty,  unforgiving, 
 and  cruel ;  He  will  heal  it,  pardon  it,  and 
 give  it  strength.  I>r.  A.  Barnes. 
 
 CONTROVERSY— Effects  of. 
 
 Christians  having  drawn  the  abstrusest 
 niceties  into  controversy,  did  thereby  so 
 destroy  peace,  love,  and  charity  among 
 themselves,  that  they  lost  the  whole  sub- 
 stance of  religion,  and  in  a  manner  drove 
 Christianity  quite  out  of  the  field  ;  so  that 
 the  Saracens  taking  advantage  of  the 
 weakness  of  power  and  distractions  of 
 councils  which  those  divisions  had  caused, 
 soon  overran  with  terrible  devastation  all 
 the  eastern  provinces  of  the  Roman  em- 
 pire; turned  everywhere  their  churches 
 into  mosques,  and  forced  on  them  the  abo- 
 minable imposture  of  Mahometi-.nism. 
 
 Dean  Frideaux. 
 
 CONTROVERSY— when  Injurious. 
 
 Disagreement  is  refreshing  when  two 
 men  lovingly  desire  to  compare  their  views 
 to  find  out  truth.  Controversy  is  wretched 
 whi'n  it  is  an  attempt  to  prove  one  another 
 wrong.     Therefore  Christ  would  not  arr/ue  | 
 
 with  Pilate.  Religious  controversy  does 
 only  harm.  It  destroys  the  humble  in- 
 quiry after  truth ;  it  throws  all  the  ener- 
 gies into  an  attempt  to  prove  ourselves 
 right.  In  that  despairing  spirit  no  man 
 gets  at  truth  :  "  The  meek  will  He  guide 
 in  judgment."  F.  W.Robertson. 
 
 CONVERSATION— Decay  of. 
 
 The  ancient  art  of  talking  is  falling  into 
 decay.  It  is  an  ascertainable  fait  that, 
 in  proportion  to  the  increased  population, 
 the  aggregate  bulk  of  conversation  is  les- 
 sening. People  now-a-days  have  some- 
 thing else  to  do  but  talk  ;  not  only  do  they 
 live  in  such  a  hurry  that  there  is  only 
 leisure  for  just  comparing  ideas  as  to  the 
 weather,  but  they  have  each  and  all  a 
 gross  quantity  of  reading  to  do,  which  puts 
 talking  out  of  the  question.  If  persons 
 remain  at  home,  they  read ;  if  they  go  to 
 the  sea-side,  they  read ;  we  have  met  mis- 
 guided individuals  out  in  the  open  fields 
 with  books  in  hand;  young  folks  have 
 been  seen  stretched  underneath  trees,  and 
 upon  the  banks  of  rivers,  poring  over  the 
 opened  page  ;  on  the  tons  of  mountains,  in 
 the  desert,  far  within  forests — everywhere, 
 men  now  pull  printed  sheets  from  their 
 pockets,  and  as  the  earliest,  latest,  highest 
 occupation  of  this  life,  they  read.  The 
 fact  is  incontestably  true,  that  modern  men 
 and  women  are  reading  themselves  into  a 
 comparatively  silent  race.  Reading  is  the 
 great  delusion  of  the  present  time ;  it  has 
 become  a  sort  of  lay  piety,  according  to 
 which  the  perusal  of  volumes  reckons  as 
 good  works ;  it  is,  in  a  word,  the  super- 
 stition of  the  nineteenth  century. 
 
 Chambers. 
 
 CONVERSATION— Description  of. 
 
 Conversation  is  the  music  of  the  mind  ; 
 an  intellectual  orchestra,  where  all  the 
 instruments  should  bear  a  part,  but  where 
 none  should  play  together.  Each  of  the 
 performers  should  have  a  just  appreciation 
 of  his  own  powers,  otherwise  an  unskilml 
 noviciate,  who  might  usurp  the  first  fiddle, 
 would  infallibly  get  into  a  scrape.  To 
 prevent  these  mistakes,  a  good  master  of 
 the  band  will  be  particular  in  the  assort- 
 ment of  the  performers :  if  too  dissimilar 
 there  will  be  no  harmony,  if  too  few  there 
 will  be  no  variety,  and  if  too  numerous  there 
 will  be  no  oi-der,  for  the  presumption  of 
 one  prater  might  silence  the  eloquence  of 
 a  Burke,  or  the  wit  of  a  Sheridan,  as  a 
 single  kettledrum  would  drown  the  finest 
 solo  of  Gioniwich  or  a  Jordini.     C.  Colton. 
 
 CONVERSATION— FaiHng  in. 
 
 Some  men  are  very  entertaining  for  a 
 first  interview,  but  alter  that  they  are  ex- 
 hausted, and  run  out ;  on  a  second  meeting 
 
196 
 
 CONVERSATION, 
 
 we  shall  find  tlieiTi  very  flnt  and  moiioto- 
 iiius:  like  hand-organs,  we  have  heard  all 
 their  tunes.  C  Colton. 
 
 CONVERSATION— Paijlts  of. 
 
 Every  one  endeavours  to  malve  himself 
 as  agreeable  to  society  as  he  can  ;  but  it 
 otten  happens  that  those  who  most  aim  at 
 shining  in  conversation  overshoot  their 
 mark.  We  should  try  to  keep  up  conver- 
 sation like  a  ball  bandied  to  and  fro  from 
 one  to  the  other,  rather  than  seize  it  all  to 
 ourselves,  and  drive  it  before  us  like  a  foot- 
 ball. 
 
 We  should  likewise  be  cautious  to  adapt 
 the  matter  of  our  discourse  to  our  com- 
 p-my  ;  and  not  talk  Greek  before  ladies,  or 
 ol  the  last  new  fashion  to  a  meeting  of 
 country  justices. 
 
 But  nothing  throws  a  more  ridiculous 
 air  over  our  whole  conversation  than  pecu- 
 liarities, easily  acquired,  but  not  conquered 
 or  discarded  without  extreme  difficulty. 
 Those  who  accompanj'  every  word  with  a 
 peculiar  grimace  or  gesture ;  who  assent 
 with  a  shrug,  contradict  with  a  twisting 
 of  the  neck,  are  angry  with  a  wry  mouth, 
 and  pleased  in  a  caper  or  minuet  step,  may 
 be  considered  as  speaking  harlequins.  Witli 
 these  we  condemn  the  affected  tribe  of 
 mimics,  who  are  constantly  taking  off  the 
 peculiar  tone  of  voice  or  gesture  of  their 
 acquaintance  :  though  they  are  generally 
 such  wretched  imitators  that,  like  bad 
 painters,  they  are  frequently  forced  to 
 write  the  name  under  the  picture  before 
 we  can  discover  any  likeness. 
 
 It  is  unnecessary  to  point  out  all  the 
 pests  of  conversation,  or  to  dwell  particu- 
 larly on  the  sensibles,  who  pronounce  dog- 
 matically on  the  most  trivial  points,  and 
 sjieak  in  sentences;  the  ivonderers,  who 
 are  always  wondering  what  o'clock  it  is, 
 or  wondering  whether  it  will  rain  or  no, 
 or  wondering  when  the  moon  changes  ;  the 
 phraseologists,  who  explain  a  thing  by  all 
 that  and  t'other;  and  lastly,  the  silent 
 persons,  who  seem  afraid  of  opening  their 
 mouths  lest  they  should  catch  cold,  and 
 literally  observe  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel, 
 letting  their  conversation  be  only  Yea,  yea, 
 and  nay.  nay. 
 
 The  rational  intercourse  kept  up  by  con- 
 versation is  one  of  our  principal  dis- 
 tinctions from  brutes.  We  should  there- 
 fore endeavour  to  turn  this  particular 
 talent  to  our  advantage,  and  consider  the 
 organs  of  speech  as  the  instruments  of 
 understanding;  we  should  be  very  careful 
 not  to  use  them  as  the  weapons  of  vice,  or 
 tools  of  folly,  and  do  our  utmost  to  unlearn 
 any  trivial  or  ridiculous  habits,  which  tend 
 to  lessen  the  value  of  such  an  inestimable 
 prerogative.  Steele. 
 
 CONVERSATION— Men  of. 
 
 Tasso's  conversation  was  neither  gay 
 nor  brilliant.  Dante  was  either  taciturn 
 or  satirical.  Butler  was  sullen  or  biting. 
 Gray  seldom  talked  or  smiled.  Hogarth 
 and  Swift  were  very  absent-minded  in  coin- 
 pany.  Milton  was  unsociable  and  even 
 irritable  when  pressed  into  conversation. 
 Kirwan,  though  copious  and  eloquent  in 
 public  addresses,  was  meagre  and  dull  in 
 colloquial  discourse.  Virgil  was  heavy  in 
 conversation.  La  Fontaine  appeared  heavy, 
 coarse,  and  stupid  ;  he  could  not  speak  and 
 describe  what  he  had  just  seen;  but  then 
 he  was  the  model  of  poetry.  Cliaucer's 
 silence  was  more  agreeable  than  his  con- 
 versation. Dryden's  conversation  was 
 slow  and  dull,  his  humour  saturnine  and 
 reserved.  Corneille  in  conversation  was  so 
 insipid  that  he  never  failed  in  wearying ; 
 he  did  not  even  speak  correctly  that  lan- 
 guage of  which  he  was  such  a  master. 
 Ben  Jonson  used  to  sit  silent  in  company, 
 and  suck  his  wine  and  their  humours. 
 South  ey  was  stiff,  sedate,  and  wrapped  up 
 in  asceticism.  Addison  was  good  company 
 with  his  intimate  friends,  but  in  mixed 
 company  he  preserved  his  dignity  by  a  stiff 
 and  reserved  silence.  Fox,  in  conversation, 
 never  flagged;  his  animation  and  variety 
 were  inexhaustible.  Dr.  Bentley  was  lo- 
 quacious, Grotius  was  talkative.  Gold- 
 smith wrote  like  an  angel,  and  talked  like 
 poor  Poll.  Burke  was  eminently  enter- 
 taining, enthusiastic,  and  interesting  in 
 conversation.  Curran  was  a  convivial 
 deity;  he  soared  into  every  region,  and 
 was  at  home  in  all.  Dr.  Birch  dreaded  a 
 pen  as  he  did  a  torpedo,  hut  he  could  talk 
 like  running  water.  Dr.  Johnson  wrote 
 monotonously  and  ponderously,  but  in  con- 
 versation his  words  were  close  and  sinewj"^ ; 
 and  if  his  pistol  missed  fire,  he  knocked 
 down  his  antagonists  with  the  butt  of  it. 
 Coleridge  in  his  conversation  was  full  of 
 acuteness  and  originality.  Leigh  Hunt 
 has  been  well  termed  the  philosopher  of 
 hope,  and  likened  to  a  pleasant  stream  in 
 conversation.  Carlyle  doubts,  objects,  and 
 constantly  demurs.  Fisher  Ames  was  a 
 powerful  and  effective  orator,  and  not  the 
 less  distinguished  in  the  social  circle.  He 
 possessed  a  fluent  language,  a  vivid  fancy, 
 and  a  well-stored  memory.  Chambers. 
 
 CONVERSATION— Religious. 
 
 I  will  tell  you  a  story,  which  I  have 
 from  very  good  hands,  of  two  very  emi- 
 nent men,  both  for  learning  and  piety,  in 
 the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  one  of 
 them  a  great  prelate  (indeed  a  primate), 
 and  the  other  a  Churchman  of  great  note. 
 These  two  eminent  men,  as  they  often  met 
 together  to  consult  the  interest  of  learning 
 and  the  afl'airs  of  the  Chuixh;    so  when 
 
CONVEHSATION— CONVEPwSION. 
 
 197 
 
 they  had  despatched  that,  they  seldom 
 parted  from  another  without  such  an 
 encounter  as  this  : — "  Come,  good  doctor," 
 saith  the  bishop,  '-'let  us  talk  now  a  little 
 of  Jesus  Christ."  Or,  on  the  other  side, 
 said  the  doctor,  "Come,  my  lord,  let  me 
 hear  your  grace  talk  of  the  goodness  of 
 God  with  your  wonted  eloquence ;  let  us 
 warm  one  another's  hearts  with  heaven, 
 that  we  may  the  better  bear  this  cold 
 world."  Here  is  now  an  example  of  holy 
 conference  without  a  preface  and  yet  with- 
 out exception  ;  a  precedent  easy  to  imitate 
 wherever  there  is  a  like  spirit  of  piety.  A 
 few  such  men  would  put  profaneness  out 
 of  countenance,  and  turn  the  tide  of  con- 
 versation. Goodman. 
 
 CONVEESATION— Singularity  in. 
 
 Avoid  in  conversation  all  singularity  of 
 accuracy.  One  of  the  bores  of  society  is 
 the  talker  who  is  always  setting  you  right ; 
 who,  when  you  report  from  the  paper  that 
 10,000  men  fell  in  some  battle,  tells  you  it 
 was  9970;  who,  when  you  describe  your 
 walk  as  two  miles  out  and  back,  assures 
 you  it  wanted  half  a  fui-long  of  it.  Truth 
 docs  not  consist  in  minute  accuracy  of 
 detail,  but  in  conveying  a  right  impression  ; 
 and  there  are  vague  ways  of  speaking  that 
 a;e  truer  than  strict  facts  would  be.  When 
 the  Psalmist  said,  "  Rivers  of  waters  run 
 down  mine  eyes,  because  men  keep  not  thy 
 law,"  he  did  not  state  the  fact,  but  he 
 stated  a  truth  deeper  than  fact  and  truer. 
 Dean  Alford. 
 
 CONVERSION— Agent  of. 
 
 As  a  locomotive  cannot  turn  itself  on 
 the  line  of  rails,  but  must  be  taken  on  the 
 machine  provided  for  that  purpose,  and 
 turned  by  the  power  of  man,  so  the  sinner 
 cannot  convert  himself  from  the  nature 
 and  ways  of  sin.  He  must  be  brought  in 
 contact  with  the  Gospel,  and  by  the  agency 
 of  the  Holy  Ghost  be  turned  from  darkness 
 to  light,  and  from  the  power  of  8atan  unto 
 God.  John  Bate. 
 
 CONVERSION— Change  in. 
 
 The  work  of  salvation  is  most  truly  a 
 transformation.  "  Be  ye  transformed  by 
 the  renewing  of  your  mind."  You  who 
 have  been  made  anew  in  Christ  Jesus, 
 know  in  your  own  hearts  how  great  that 
 transformation  is.  The  wolf,  with  all  its 
 bloodthirsty  tendencies,  feeds  quietly  with 
 all  the  amiable  gentleness  of  the  lamb ;  the 
 lion  eats  straw  like  the  ox ;  the  desert  be- 
 comes a  garden,  and  the  dry  land  springs 
 of  water;  nay,  what  is  more  wonderful 
 still,  stones  of  the  brook  become  children 
 unto  Abraham.  The  Lord  takes  the  man 
 who  is,  like  the  leopard,  covered  with  spots, 
 and  cleanses  him  till  he  is  whiter  than 
 snow.    He  takes  the  Ethiopian,  black  as 
 
 jet,  and  does  but  touch  him  with  the 
 matcldess  blood  of  Jesus,  and  he  becomes 
 altogether  fair  and  lovely.  None  of  the 
 fanciful  transformations  of  which  Ovid 
 sang  of  old  could  ever  rival  the  matchless 
 work  of  God  when  He  displays  His  power 
 upon  the  human  mind.  Oh,  what  a  ditiVr- 
 ence  between  a  sinner  and  a  saint,  between 
 "dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,"  and  quickened 
 by  Divine  grace !  If  God  should  speak  to 
 Niagara,  and  bid  its  floods  in  their  tre- 
 mendous leap  suddenly  stand  still,  that 
 were  a  trifling  demonstration  of  power 
 compared  with  the  staying  of  a  desperate 
 human  will.  If  He  should  suddenly  speak 
 to  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  bid  it  be  wrapj  ed 
 in  flames,  we  should  not  even  then  see 
 such  a  manifestation  of  His  greatness  as 
 when  He  commands  the  human  heart,  and 
 makes  it  submissive  to  His  love. 
 
 C.  II.  Sturgeon. 
 
 CONVERSION— Definitions  of. 
 
 Conversion  is  a  change  from  one  state 
 to  another.  Saving  conversion  consists  in 
 the  renovation  of  the  heart  and  life,  or  a 
 turning  from  the  power  of  sin  and  Satan 
 unto  God  (Acts  xxvi,  18),  and  is  produced 
 by  the  influence  of  Divine  grace  on  the 
 soul.  C.  Buck. 
 
 We  are  horn  with  our  backs  upon  God 
 and  heaven,  and  our  faces  upon  sin  and 
 hell,  till  grace  comes,  and  that  converts, 
 turns  (Acts  iii,  19,  26).  P.  Henrg. 
 
 CONVERSION— Habits  after. 
 
 Late  observations  have  shown  that, 
 under  many  circumstances,  the  magnttic 
 needle,  even  after  the  disturbing  influence 
 has  been  removed,  will  keep  wavering,  and 
 require  many  days  before  it  points  aright, 
 and  remains  steady  to  the  pole.  So  is  it 
 ordinarily  with  the  soul,  after  it  has  begun 
 to  free  itself  from  the  disturbing  forces  of 
 the  flesh  and  the  world,  and  to  conveit 
 (turn)  itself  towards  God.  McCosh. 
 
 CONVERSION— Hindrances  to. 
 
 As  those  persons  who  wish  to  sleep  in 
 the  light  of  day  generally  throw  some- 
 thing over  their  eyes  to  produce  darkness ; 
 so  there  are  persons  who  throw  over  the 
 vision  of  their  souls  prejudice,  unbelief, 
 pride,  the  imperfection  of  others,  &c.,  to 
 keep  out  the  true  light  of  the  Truth,  and 
 so  prevent  them  turning  unto  God.  All 
 real  and  eflfectual  hindrances  to  conver- 
 sion are  from  man  himself.         John  Bate. 
 
 CONVERSION— of  an  Infidel. 
 
 An  interesting  account  of  an  infidel's 
 conversion  was  given  in  a  daily  prayer- 
 meeting  in  Chicago.  It  is  said  that  "the 
 man,  while  on  his  way  to  take  the  cars  for 
 
198 
 
 CONVERSION. 
 
 the  East,  heard  a  little  Irish  hny,  who  was 
 sitting  on  the  door-step,  singing, 
 
 "  There'll  be  no  sorrow  there, 
 There'll  be  no  sorrow  there." 
 
 "  "Where  ?"  inquired  the  sceptic,  whose 
 mind  was  impressed  by  the  words.  "Where 
 is  it  there'll  be  no  sorrow?"  The  boy 
 answered, 
 
 "  In  heaven  above. 
 Where  all  is  love. 
 There'll  be  no  sorrow  there." 
 
 The  infidel  hastened  on  to  take  his  seat 
 in  the  cars ;  but  the  simple  words  of  that 
 hymn  or  chorus  had  found  a  lodgement  in 
 his  mind.  He  could  not  drive  them  from 
 his  thoughts.  They  were  fixed.  A  world 
 where  there  is  no  sorroiv !  This  was  the 
 great  idea  that  filled  his  mind.  He  dwelt 
 up(m  it — revolved  it  over  in  his  thoughts. 
 It  was  the  message  by  the  Spirit  that  led 
 him  to  the  Saviour,  who  delivers  the  lost 
 and  ruined  from  sin  here,  and  raises  them 
 to  that  world  of  joy  and  glory  where  sin 
 and  sorrow  are  unknown.  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 CONVERSION— of  a  Jew. 
 
 A  German  Jewish  Rabbi,  in  Quebec, 
 became  converted  to  Christianity  under 
 the  following  circumstances: — He  was  a 
 man  of  sound  learning,  good  judgment, 
 and  high  repute.  He  looked  at  the  fiict 
 of  the  existence  of  what  was  called 
 Christianity  in  the  present,  the  past,  and 
 the  commencement  by  Jesus  Christ  and 
 His  Apostles.  He  then  thought  of  what 
 is  said  in  Amos  iii,  7 — "  Surely  the  Lord 
 God  will  do  nothing  but  He  reveak-th  His 
 secret  unto  His  sei-vants  the  prophets." 
 He  considered  that  Christianity  was  too 
 great  a  work  to  be  altogether  of  man,  and 
 if  it  was  of  God,  He  must  "surely"  have 
 revealed  it  in  some  way  or  other  unto  His 
 l^rophets.  He  pondered  these  things  in  his 
 mind,  but  could  not  come  to  any  satisfactory 
 conclusion.  At  this  time  there  was  a  cele- 
 brated Jewish  Rabbi  from  Europe  visiting 
 Canada  for  some  charitable  purpose.  He 
 ventured  to  make  known  i;nto  him  the 
 thoughts  of  his  heart,  and  disired  a  solu- 
 tion of  his  difficulties;  but  he  waived 
 the  matter  then,  and  promised  when 
 he  arrived  in  Europe  to  consult  the  books 
 of  the  wise,  and  send  him  a  reply.  The 
 Quebec  Rabbi  never  heard  from  the 
 European.  He  then  read  the  Old  and  New 
 Testament  for  himself,  comparing  them  to- 
 gether, and  ultimately,  through  its  teach- 
 ings, became  convinced  that  God  had  re- 
 vealed Christ  and  His  religion  unto  the 
 prophets  ;  and  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah, 
 and  His  religion  the  only  true  religion.  He 
 immediately  told  his  convictions  to  his 
 people,  and  gave  up  his  position  in  the 
 synagogue.     He  sull'ered  great  persecution 
 
 and  privation.  He  held  on  his  way ;  and 
 his  wife  and  family  embraced  Christianity. 
 After  a  while  he  was  baptized,  joined  the 
 Wesleyan  church,  became  a  minister  in  the 
 Confo'ence,  and  is  now  labouring  for  the 
 conversion  of  his  fellow  Jews  in  Canada. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 CONVERSION— Joy  of. 
 
 Cowper,  the  poet,  relates  of  his  over- 
 powering sensations  at  the  time  of  his  con- 
 version, "  Unless  the  Almighty  had  been 
 under  me,  I  think  I  should  have  been  over- 
 whelmed with  gratitude  and  joy.  My  eyes 
 filled  with  tears,  and  my  voice  choked  with 
 transport.  I  could  only  look  up  to  heaven 
 in  silent  fear,  overwhelmed  with  love 
 and  wonder."  Dr.  Jobson. 
 
 CONVERSION— a  Reality. 
 
 Conversion  is  no  repairing  of  the  old 
 building  ;  but  it  takes  all  down  and  erects  a 
 new  structure.  It  is  not  tlie  putting  in  a 
 patch,  or  sewing  on  a  list  of  holiness,  but, 
 with  the  true  convert,  holiness  is  woven 
 into  all  his  jjowers,  principles,  and  practice. 
 The  sincere  Christian  is  quite  a  new  fabric, 
 from  the  foundation  to  the  top  stone  aU. 
 new.  He  is  a  new  man,  a  new  creature. 
 All  things  are  become  new.  Conversion 
 is.  a  deep  work,  a  heart- work ;  it  turns  all 
 upside  down,  and  makes  a  man  be  in  a  new 
 world.  It  goes  throughout  with  men, 
 throughout  the  mind,  throughout  the 
 members,  throughout  the  motions  of  the 
 whole  life.  E.  Alleine. 
 
 CONVERSION— Sin  after. 
 
 When  a  man  has  washed  his  body  in  the 
 bath,  he  does  not  need  to  wash  again,  save 
 his  feet,  which  maj'  be  soiled  even  in  pass- 
 ing from  the  bath  to  the  dressing  chamber. 
 This  most  aptly  represents  the  general 
 purification  which,  in  their  great  principles, 
 the  heart  and  character  undergo  when  a 
 sinner  is  converted  to  God;  and  at  the 
 same  time  the  daily  and  hourly  soiling  or 
 pollution,  from  contact  with  the  world, 
 whi(;h  every  convert  is  ever  contracting, 
 and  from  which  he  is  ever  requiring  to  be 
 cleansed.  '  Dr.  Wardlaw. 
 
 CONVERSION— A  Singnlar. 
 
 In  the  course  of  an  Evangelical  Christen- 
 dom letter  from  Italy  we  read :  — "  One 
 man,  who  has  since  become  a  colporteur, 
 was  saved  from  the  error  of  his  ways  in  a 
 very  singular  manner.  Some  time  ago  he 
 was  most  wretched.  He  did  not  believe  in 
 God.  He  tried  to  believe  in  the  devil,  and 
 to  love  him.  He  cherished  in  his  heart  the 
 infernal  image,  and  read  with  avidity  all 
 that  related  to  Satan  or  could  recall  his  in- 
 fluence. He  went  the  length  of  invoking 
 him,  asking  the  evil  one  to  reveal  himself 
 to  him.     One  day  the  cure  from  the  pulpit 
 
C017VEESI02T— COSTVEESIONS. 
 
 199 
 
 announced  that  the  town  of  Perugia  was 
 infested  with  Protestants.  '  And  do  you 
 know,  my  dear  brethren,'  said  he,  'what 
 Protestants  are  ?  They  are  monsters  of 
 iniquity,  who  have  renounced  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  who  worship  the  devil.'  '  Excellent 
 news,'  said  the  man  of  whom  we  are  speak- 
 ing:, to  himself;  and  that  very  day  he  ran 
 to  the  meeting  of  those  worshippers  of  the 
 devil,  and  it  was  there  that  he  learned  to 
 <.'ive  himself  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  worship 
 Uim."  Anon. 
 
 CONVEESION— Sound, 
 
 ^V  here  there  is  a  sound  conversion,  then 
 a  man  i*  wholly  given  unto  God,  to  serve 
 Him  in  his  whole  man,  both  body,  soul,  and 
 spirit.  He  shakes  hands  with  all  sins;  he 
 sells  all  for  the  jewel  of  the  Gospel ;  he 
 regards  not  sin  in  his  heart,  but  hath  a 
 respect  to  all  God's  commandments. 
 
 jB.  Bolton. 
 
 CONVEESION— Supernatural  and  Natural. 
 
 Now,  the  marvellous  thing  in  conversion 
 is,  that  while  all  is  supernatural  (being 
 the  entire  woi-k  of  the  Holy  Ghost),  all  is 
 also  natural.  You  are  perhaps  uncon- 
 sciously expecting  some  miraculous  illapse 
 of  heavenly  power  and  brightness  into  the 
 soul;  somethingapart  from  Divine  truth  and 
 from  the  working  of  man's  powers  of  mind. 
 You  have  been  expecting  faitk  to  descend, 
 like  an  angel  from  heaven,  into  your  soul, 
 and  hope  to  be  lighted  up  like  a  new  star 
 in  your  firmament.  It  is  not  so.  Whilst 
 the  Si)irit's  work  is  beyond  nature,  it  is 
 Jiot  against  nature.  He  displaces  no 
 faculty  ;  He  disturbs  no  mental  process ; 
 He  does  violence  to  no  part  of  our  moral 
 framework ;  He  creates  no  new  organ  of 
 thought  or  feeling.  HisotBce  is  to  set  "  all 
 to  rights  "  within  you ;  so  that  you  never 
 feel  so  calm,  so  true,  so  real,  so  perfectly 
 natural,  so  much  yourself,  as  when  He  has 
 taken  possession  of  you  in  every  part,  and 
 filled  yourwhole  manwith  His  heavenly  joy. 
 Kever  do  you  feel  so  perfectly  free — less 
 constrained  and  less  mechanical — in  every 
 faculty,  as  when  He  has  "  brought  every 
 th'iught  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
 Christ."  Dr.  Bona/r. 
 
 CONVERSION— Unsound. 
 
 A  mat.  may  be  changed  from  worse  to 
 better  ;  from  a  notorious  sinner  to  a  civil, 
 honest  man.  From  civil  honesty  he  may 
 pass  on  to  a  formal  Christianity,  and  do 
 and  perform  religious  services,  and  yet  lie 
 in  his  sins  and  want  the  power  of  inward 
 sanctification.  He  may  by  a  general  power 
 of  the  Word  in  some  sort  be  inwardly  en- 
 lightened. He  may  have  some  degree  of 
 ;inderstanding  and  joy  in  the  Word,  and 
 n^ay  do  many  things  after  it,  and  forsake 
 many  sins ;  j  et  for  all  this  he  comes  short 
 
 of  a  sound  convcrr-'on.  If  he  sufTer  one  sin 
 to  reign  in  him,  he  is  not  the  Lord's.  For 
 this  is  a  certain  rule, — that  true  turning 
 unto  God,  and  t/ie  remaining  in  the  practice 
 of  any  one  sin,  cannot  stand  together. 
 
 R.  Bolton. 
 
 CONVERSION  AND  REGENERATION. 
 
 Conversion  is  to  be  distinguished  from 
 regeneration  thus— Regeneration  is  a  spi- 
 ritual change;  conversion  is  a  spiritual 
 motion :  in  regeneration  there  is  a  power 
 conferred ;  conversion  is  the  exercise  of 
 this  power  :  in  regeneration  there  is  given 
 us  a  principle  to  turn;  conversion  is  our 
 actual  turning.  S.  Charnock 
 
 CONVERSIONS— in  After-life. 
 
 Conversions  after  forty  years  of  age  are 
 very  rare  :  like  the  scattered  grapes  on  the 
 remotest  branches  after  the  vintage  is  over 
 there  is  only  one  here  and  there.  I  have 
 sometimes  seen  an  old  v.-ithered  oak  stand- 
 ing with  its  stiff  and  leafless  branches  on 
 the  slopes  of  a  woody  hill,  though  the  same 
 refreshing  rains  and  genial  sunshine  fell  on 
 it  as  on  its  thriving  neighbours,  w^hich 
 were  green  with  renewed  youth,  and  rich 
 in  flowing  foliage  : — it  grew  not,  it  gave  no 
 signs  of  life,  it  was  too  far  gone  for  genial 
 nature  to  assist.  The  old  blanched  sapless 
 oak  is  an  emblem  of  the  aged  sinner. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 CONVERSIONS— Earlj. 
 
 During  the  session  of  the  last  New  York 
 East  Conference,  Kev.  S.  H.  Piatt  privately 
 collected  the  following  statistics  :  "  Of  149 
 ministers  called  on  in  this  conference,  the 
 average  age  at  conversion  was  only  15  3'5 
 years;  and  about  one  sixth  of  them  were 
 converted  when  less  than  twelve  years  of 
 age."  What  a  sermon  on  early  conversions  ! 
 Vv'hat  an  encouragement  to  parents  and 
 Sunday-school  teachers  !  John  Bate. 
 
 I  have  now  been  nearly  twenty  years  in 
 the  ministry  of  the  Gospel,  and  1  here  pub- 
 licly state  to  you  that  I  do  not  believe  I 
 could  enumerate  three  persons  over  fifty 
 years  of  age,  whom  I  have  ever  heard  ask 
 the  solemn  and  infinitely  momentous  ques- 
 tion, "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?" 
 
 Dr.  Bedell. 
 
 In  a  revival  of  religion  in  Jackson  county, 
 Ga.,  America,  in  the  summer  of  1816,  out 
 of  eighty  hopeful  conversions,  sixty-three 
 of  whom  united  with  the  church,  not  more 
 than  three  or  four  were  past  the  age  of 
 twenty-five.  In  the  great  work  in  Athens, 
 which  followed,  there  was  a  similar  pro- 
 portion of  youth.  In  other  revivals  in  the 
 same  state,  in  1845  and  1846,  including  in 
 all  not  far  from  five  hundred  additions  to 
 
200 
 
 CONVERSIONS. 
 
 the  chnrches,  at  least  as  larpre  a  proportion 
 were  from  twelve  to  twenty-five  years  of 
 age ;  and  these  facts  are,  perhaps,  a  fair 
 average  throughout  the  country.  Ponder 
 it,  ye  who  are  putting  far  off  the  evil  day, 
 and  trusting  to  advanced  life  to  enter  the 
 gate  of  heaven  !  »    Dr.  Haven. 
 
 The  'Preshyteriau.'in  describinga  power- 
 ful revival  that  lai<<.'y  occurred  in  a  union 
 meetingof  the  Presbyterians  andMethodists 
 in  Lewisburg.  Va.,  classifies  the  converted 
 as  follows  : — From  10  to  20  years  old  there 
 were  79  or  47  per  cent. ;  from  20  to  30, 
 48  or  28  per  cent. ;  from  30  to  40,  16  or  9 
 per  cent. ;  from  40  to  50, 15  or  9  per  cent. ; 
 fi-om  50  to  60,  7  or  4  piT  cent. ;  from  60  to 
 70,  4  or  2  1-3  per  cent. ;  from  70  to  80.  1 
 or  6"10  per  cent.  Ibid. 
 
 CONVERSIONS— Providence  in. 
 
 Now,  there  are  divers  things  in  those 
 providences  which  are  versant  about  this 
 work,  and  exceedingly  sweet  and  taking; 
 as,  viz., 
 
 The  wonderful  strangeness  and  unae- 
 eountableness  of  this  work  of  Providence 
 in  easting  us  into  the  way,  and  ordering 
 the  occasions,  yea,  the  minutest  circum- 
 stances about  this  work.  Thus  you  find  in 
 Acts  viii,  26—30.  The  eunuch,  at  that 
 very  instant  when  he  was  reading  the 
 prophet  Isaiah,  hath  an  interpreter,  one 
 among  a  thousand,  that  joins  bis  chariot 
 just  as  his  mind  was,  by  a  fit  occasion,  pre- 
 pared to  receive  the  first  light  of  the  know- 
 ledge of  Christ. 
 
 So,  for  the  conversion  of  the  Samaritans, 
 it  is  observed  (Jolin  iv,  4j  Christ  must 
 needs  go  that  way,  because  it  lay  just  in 
 the  road  betwixt  Judea  and  Galilee,  and 
 at  the  sixth  honr,  i.e.,  high  noon.  He  rests 
 Himself  upon  Jacob's  well,  still  seeming  to 
 have  no  other  design  but  His  own  refresh- 
 ment, by  sitting  and  drinking  there;  but, 
 oh  !  what  a  train  of  blessed  providences 
 follow  this,  which  seemed  but  an  accidental 
 thing !  First,  the  woman  of  Samaria,  and 
 then  many  more  in  that  city,  are  brought 
 to  believe  in  Christ,  as  you  find  in  verses 
 29  and  41. 
 
 It  is  noted  by  Melchior  Adams,  in  the 
 life  of  Junius,  how  very  an  atheist  he  grew 
 m  his  younger  years ;  but  in  order  to  his 
 conversion  to  God,  a  wonderful  preserva- 
 tion of  his  life,  in  a  puldic  tumult  at 
 Lyons  in  France,  must  first  make  way, 
 which  forces  from  him  the  acknowledgment 
 of  a  Deity  ;  then  his  father  sends  for  him 
 home,  and  with  much  gentleness  persuades 
 him  to  read  the  Serijitures;  he  lights  upon 
 the  1st  of  John,  and  with  it  he  sensibly 
 feels  a  divine,  supernatural  majesty  and 
 power  seizing  his  soul,  which  brought  him 
 over  by  a  complete   conversion   to   Jesus 
 
 Christ.  Thus,  as  the  woman  of  Tekoah  told 
 David,  "  doth  God  devise  means  to  bring 
 back  His  banished." 
 
 Lavater  tells  us  that  many  Spanish 
 soldiers,  going  into  the  wars  of  Germany, 
 were  there  converted  to  Christ  by  falling 
 into  the  cities  and  towns  where  godly 
 ministers  and  Christians  were. 
 
 Mr.  Robert  Bolton,  though  an  excellent 
 scholar,  yet  in  his  younger  years  was  a 
 very  irreligious  person,  and  a  jeerer  of  holy 
 men ;  but  being  cast  into  the  company  of 
 the  godly  Mr.  Peacock,  was  by  him  brought 
 to  repentance,  and  proved  a  famous  instru- 
 ment in  the  Church  of  Christ. 
 
 A  scrap  of  paper  accidentally  coming  to 
 view  hath  been  used  as  an  occasion  of  con- 
 version. This  was  the  case  of  a  minister 
 of  Wales,  who  had  two  livings,  but  took 
 little  care  of  either.  He  being  at  a  fair, 
 bought  something  at  a  pedlar's  standing, 
 and  rent  ofi'  a  leaf  of  Mr.  Perkin's  cate- 
 chism to  wrap  it  in,  and  reading  a  line  or 
 two  in  it,  God  sent  it  home  so  as  it  did  the 
 work. 
 
 The  marriage  of  a  godly  man  into  a 
 carnal  family  hath  been  ordered  by  Pro- 
 vidence for  the  conversion  and  salvation  of 
 many  therein.  Thus  we  read,  in  the  life 
 of  that  renowned  English  worthy,  Mr.  John 
 Bruen,  that  in  his  second  match  it  was 
 agreed  that  he  should  have  one  year's  diet 
 in  his  mother-in-law's  house ;  during  his 
 ab(xle  there  that  year  (s:iith  Mr.  Clark) 
 the  Lord  was  pleased,  by  his  means,  gra- 
 ciously to  work  upon  her  soul,  as  also  upon 
 his  wife's  sister,  and  half-sister,  their 
 brothers,  Mr.  William  and  Mr.  Thomas 
 Fox,  with  one  or  two  of  the  servants  in 
 that  family. 
 
 The  reading  of  a  good  book  hath  been 
 the  means  of  bringing  others  to  Christ. 
 And  thus  we  find  many  of  the  German 
 divines  converted  by  reading  Luther's 
 books :  yea,  and  what  is  more  strange, 
 Mr.  Sleiden,  in  his  'Commentary,'  tells  us 
 that  Vergerius,  though  he  were  present  an 
 eye  and  ear-witness  to  that  doleful  case  of 
 Spira,  which  one  would  think  should  move 
 a  stone,  yet  still  continued  so  firm  to  the 
 pope's  interest,  that  when  he  fell  into  some 
 suspicion  among  the  cardinals,  he  resolved 
 to  purge  himself  by  writing  a  book  against 
 tlie  German  apostates;  but  whilst  he  read 
 the  Protestant  books,  out  of  no  other 
 design  bat  to  confute  them,  whilst  he  is 
 weighing  the  arguments,  is  himself  con- 
 vinced and  brought  to  ("hrist.  He,  find- 
 ing himself  thus  overcome  by  the  truth, 
 imiiarts  his  conviction  to  his  brother,  a 
 zealous  papist  also ;  this  brother  deplores 
 the  misery  of  his  case,  and  seeks  to  reclaim 
 him  ;  but  Vergerius,  entreating  him  to 
 weigh  well  the  Protestant  arguments,  also 
 yields;  and  so  both  immediately  bet0v;k 
 themselves  to  preach  justification  by  the 
 
CONVERSIONS. 
 
 free  grace  of  God  through  the  blood  of 
 Christ. 
 
 Yea,  not  only  the  reading  of  a  book,  or 
 hearing  of  a  minister,  but  (which  is  most 
 remarkable)  the  very  mistake  or  forgetful- 
 ness  of  a  minister  hath  been  improved  by 
 Providence  for  this  end  and  purpose. 
 Augustine,  once  preaching  to  his  congre- 
 gation, forgot  the  argument  which  he  first 
 proposed,  and  fell  upon  the  errors  of  the 
 Manichees,  beside  his  first  intention  ;  by 
 which  'discourse  he  converted  one  Firmus, 
 his  auditor,  who  fell  down  at  his  feet 
 weeping,  and  confessing  he  had  lived  a 
 Manichee  many  years.  Another  I  knew, 
 who,  going  to  preach,  took  up  another 
 Bible  than  that  he  designed,  in  which,  not 
 only  missing  his  notes,  but  the  chapter  also 
 in  which  his  text  Jay,  was  put  to  some  loss 
 thereby;  but,  after  a  short  pause,  he  re- 
 solved to  speak  to  any  other  Scripture  that 
 might  be  presented  to  him,  and,  accord- 
 ingly, read  the  text,  "  The  Lord  is  not 
 slack  concerning  His  promise"  (2  Pet.  iii, 
 9) ;  and  though  he  had  nothing  prepared, 
 yet  the  Lord  helped  him  to  speak  both 
 methodically  and  pertinently  from  it ;  by 
 whicli  discourse  a  gracious  change  was 
 wrought  upon  one  in  the  congregation, 
 who  hath  since  given  good  evidence  of  a 
 'jound  conversion,  and  acknowledged  this 
 bermon  to  be  the  first  and  only  means 
 thereof. 
 
 The  accompanying  of  others,  in  a  neigh- 
 bourly, civil  visit,  hath  been  overruled  to 
 the  same  end.  Thus  many  of  the  Jews 
 accompanied  i\Iary  into  Bethany,  design- 
 ing only  to  manifest  their  civil  respect ; 
 but  there  they  met  Christ,  saw  the  tilings 
 which  He  did,  and  believed  on  Him  Ifjohn 
 xi,  45). 
 
 Mr.  Firmin,  in  his  '  Real  Christian,' 
 tells  us  of  one  who  had  lived  many  years 
 in  a  town  where  Christ  had  been  as  clearly 
 and  as  long  preached  as  in  any  town  in 
 England.  This  man,  when  he  was  about 
 seventy-six  years  of  age,  went  to  visit  a 
 sick  neighbour.  "  A  Christian  friend  of 
 mine,"  saith  the  author,  "  came  to  see  him 
 also ;  and  finding  this  old  man  there,  whom 
 he  judged  to  be  one  that  lived  upon  his 
 own  stock,  civility,  good  works,  &c.,  he 
 purposely  fell  into  that  discourse  to  show 
 how  many  persons  lived  upon  their  duties, 
 but  never  came  to  Christ.  The  old  man, 
 sitting  by  the  bedside,  heard  him,  and  God 
 was  pleased  to  convince  him  that  he  was 
 such  a  person  who  had  lived  upon  himself, 
 without  Christ,  to  that  day ;  and  would 
 say  afterwards.  Had  I  died  before  three- 
 score and  sixteen,  I  had  perished,  for  1 
 knew  not  Christ." 
 
 The  committing  of  a  godly  man  to  prison 
 hath  been  the  method  of  Providence  to  save 
 the  soul  of  a  poor  keeper.  So  Paul  (Acts 
 xvi,  27)  was  made  a  prisoner,  to  make  his 
 
 keeper  a  spiritual  freeman.  The  like  suc- 
 cess had  Dr.  Barnes,  in  Queen  Mary's  davs, 
 who  afterwards  celebrated  the  Lord's  Sup- 
 per in  prison  with  his  converted  keeper. 
 
 The  scattering  of  ministers  and  Chris- 
 tians, by  persecution,  from  cities  and  towns 
 into  the  ignorant  and  barbarous  parts  of 
 the  country,  hath  been  the  way  of  Provi- 
 dence to  find  out  and  bring  home  some 
 lost  sheep  to  Jesus  Christ  (Acts  viii,  1 — 4). 
 The  like  signal  event  hath  since  followed 
 upon  the  like  scattering  of  godly  ministers, 
 whereof  are  many  pregnant  instances  at 
 this  day. 
 
 A  servant  running  away  from  his  master, 
 likely  upon  no  other  design  but  to  live  an 
 idle  life,  yet  falling  into  such  places  and 
 comjianies  as  Providence  ordered  in  a 
 design  to  him  unknown,  hath  thereby 
 been  brought  to  be  a  servant  of  Christ. 
 This  was  the  very  case  of  Onesimus,  who 
 ran  away  from  his  master  Philemon  to 
 Rome,  where,  by  a  strange  providence, 
 possibly  a  mere  curiosity  to  see  the  pri- 
 soners,  he  there  falls  into  Paul's  hands, 
 who  begat  him  to  Christ  in  his  bonds 
 (Philemon,  verses  10 — 16). 
 
 Going  to  hear  a  sermon  in  Jest  hath 
 proved  some  men's  conversion  in  earnest. 
 The  above-named  Mr.  Firmin,  in  the  fore- 
 cited  book,  tells  us  of  a  notorious  drunkard 
 whom  the  drunkards  called  "  Father,"  that 
 one  day  would  needs  go  to  hear  what 
 Wilson  said,  out  of  no  other  design,  it 
 seems,  but  to  scoff  at  that  holy  man ;  hut, 
 in  the  prayer  before  sermon,  his  heart  be- 
 gan to  thaw,  and  when  he  read  his  text, 
 which  was,  "  Sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse 
 thing  come  unto  thee"  (John  v,  14),  ha 
 could  not  contain;  and  in  that  sermon  the 
 Lord  changed  his  heart,  though  forniei-!y 
 so  bitter  an  enemy,  that  the  minister  on 
 lecture  days  was  afraid  to  go  to  church 
 before  his  shop  door.  "  Lo,  these  are 
 parts  of  His  ways :  but  how  small  a  por- 
 tion is  known  of  Him  !" 
 
 The  dropping  of  some  grave  and  weighty 
 word,  accidentally,  in  the  presence  of  vain, 
 carnal  persons — the  death  of  a  husband, 
 wife,  or  child — a  fit  of  sickness,  with  a 
 thousand  other  such  like  occasions — have 
 been  thus  improved  by  Providence  to  the 
 conversion  of  s,ouls. 
 
 And  no  less  remarkable  and  wonderful 
 are  the  designs  of  Providence  in  ordering 
 the  removes  and  governing  the  motions  of 
 ministers  from  place  to  place,  in  order  to 
 the  conversion  of  souls.  Thus,  oftentinus, 
 it  carries  them  to  places  where  they  in- 
 tended not  to  go ;  God  having,  unknown 
 to  them,  some  elect  vessels  there,  who  must 
 be  called  by  the  Gospel. 
 
 Thus  Paul  and  Timothy,  a  sweet  and 
 lovely  pair,  when  they  were  travelling 
 through  Phrygia  and  Galatia,  were  forb'd 
 to  preach  the  Word  in  Asia,  to  which  pro- 
 
203 
 
 COKVICTIOSr  OF  SIN. 
 
 l):iMy  tlie'ir  mir.ds  inolit'ed  (Acts  xvi,  6); 
 aiid  \?-ben  tliey  es-ayed  to  go  into  Bithynin, 
 the  Spirit  suffered  them  not  (verse  7) ;  but 
 a  man  of  Macedonia — *.  e.,  an  angel  in  the 
 shape  or  habit  of  a  man  of  that  country — 
 api:)t'ared  to  Paul  in  a  vision,  and  prayed 
 him,  saying,  "  Come  over  into  Macedonia, 
 and  help  us"  (verse  9) ;  and  there  did  God 
 open  the  heart  of  Lydia. 
 
 I  knew  a  pious  minister,  now  with  God, 
 who,  falling  in  his  study  upon  a  very  rous- 
 iug  subject  intended  for  his  own  congre- 
 gation, was  strongly  moved,  when  he  had 
 lin  shed  it,  to  go  to  a  rude,  vile,  profane 
 people,  about  five  miles  off,  and  first  preach 
 it  to  tliem  ;  after  many  wrestlings  with 
 himself,  not  being  willing  to  quench  any 
 mdtion  that  might  be  supposed  to  come 
 fi-om  the  Spirit  of  God,  he  obeyed  and  went 
 to  this  peo2>le,  who  had  then  no  minister 
 of  their  own,  and  few  durst  come  among 
 tliem  ;  and  there  did  the  Lord,  beyond  all 
 expectation,  open  a  door,  and  several  pro- 
 fane ones  received  Christ  in  that  place, 
 and  engaged  this  minister  to  a  weekly 
 lecture  among  them,  in  which  many  souls 
 were  won  to  God. 
 
 The  same  holy  man,  at  another  time, 
 being  upon  a  journey,  passed  by  a  com- 
 pany of  vain  persons,  wlio  were  wrestling 
 upon  a  green  near  the  road ;  and  just  as 
 he  came  against  the  place,  one  of  them  had 
 thrown  his  antagonist,  and  stood  triumph- 
 ing in  his  strength  and  activity.  This 
 good  man  rode  up  to  them,  and  turning 
 his  speech  to  this  person,  told  him,  "  Friend, 
 I  see  you  are  a  strong  man,  but  yet  let  not 
 the  strong  man  glory  in  his  strength :  you 
 must  know  that  you  are  not  to  wrestle  with 
 flesh  and  blood,  but  with  priiicipalities  and 
 powers,  and  spiritual  wickedness:  how  sad 
 will  it  be  that  Satan  should  at  last  trip  up 
 the  heels  of  your  hope,  and  give  you  an 
 eternal  overthrow!"  And  after  about  a 
 quarter  of  an  hour's  serious  discourse  upon 
 this  subject  he  left  them,  and  went  on  his 
 journey ;  but  this  discourse  made  such  an 
 impression,  that  the  person  had  no  rest 
 till  he  opened  his  trouble  to  a  godly 
 minister,  who,  wisely  'following  the  work 
 upon  his  soul,  saw  at  last  the  blessed  issue 
 thereof  in  the  gracious  change  of  the 
 person,  whereof  he  afterwards  gave  the 
 minister  a  joyful  account.  Oh  !  how  un- 
 searchable are  the  methods  of  Providence 
 in  this  matter.  Flavel. 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Agent  of. 
 
 Xo  human  teacher  can  do  it.  Conscience 
 cannot  do  it.  Law  in  none  of  its  forms, 
 human  or  divine,  can  do  it.  Nay,  the 
 Gospel  itself  cannot  do  it.  Although  the 
 Word  of  God  is  the  sword  of  the  Spirit, 
 yet,  unless  the  Spirit  of  God  draws  forth 
 that  sword,  it  lies  powerless  in  its  sheath. 
 Only  when  the  Spirit  of  God  wields  it,  is 
 
 it  quirk  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  a 
 two-edged  sword,  piercing  to  the  dividing 
 asunder  of  the  soul  and  spirit,  a  discerner 
 of  the  thoughts  and  purposes  of  the  heart. 
 Therefore,  as  the  work  of  convincing  the 
 world  of  sin  is  one  which  notliing  less  than 
 the  Spirit  of  God  can  eftect — and  which 
 yet  must  be  effected  thoroughly,  if  sin  is 
 to  be  driven  out  from  the  world — our 
 Saviour  was  merfi  fully  pleased  to  send  the 
 Comforter  to  produce  this  conviction  in 
 mankind.  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Comfort  in. 
 
 The  Comforter  came  to  convince  the 
 world.  The  Comforter!  Does  it  seem  a 
 strange  name  to  any  of  you,  my  brethren, 
 ibr  Him  who  came  on  such  an  errand  ? 
 Does  it  seem  to  you  that,  in  convincing 
 you  of  your  sins,  instead  of  comforting 
 you,  He  must  needs  cover  you  with  shame 
 and  confusion,  and  make  you  sink  to  the 
 ground  in  unutterable  anguish  and  dis- 
 may ?  No,  dear  brethren,  it  is  not  so. 
 Tiiose  among  you  whom  the  Spirit  has 
 indeed  convinced  of  sin,  will  avouch  that 
 it  is  not.  They  will  avouch  that,  in  con- 
 vincing them  of  sin.  He  has  proved  that 
 He  is  indeed  the  Comforter.  If  the  con- 
 victii^n  and  consciousness  of  sin  arises  from 
 any  other  source,  then  indeed  it  is  enough 
 to  crush  us  with  shame,  and  to  harrow 
 us  with  unimaginable  fears.  But  when  it 
 comes  from  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  comes 
 with  healing  and  comfort  on  its  wings. 
 Remember  what  tlie  sin  is  of  which  He 
 convinces  us  —  that  we  believe  not  in 
 Christ.  All  other  conviction  of  sin  would 
 be  without  hope ;  here  the  hope  accom- 
 panies the  conviction,  and  is  one  with  it. 
 If  we  have  a  deep  and  lively  feeling  of  the 
 sin  of  not  believing  in  Christ,  we  must  feel 
 at  the  same  time  that  Christ  came  to  take 
 away  this  along  with  all  other  sins. 
 
 Archdeacon  Hare, 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Means  of. 
 
 Lord,  with  what  care  hast  Thou  begirt  us 
 
 round ! 
 Parents  first  season  us ;  the  schoolmasters 
 Deliver  us  to  lawsj  they  send  us  bound 
 To  rules  of  reason,  holy  messengers. 
 Pulpits  and  Sundays, — sorrow  dogging  sin. 
 Afflictions  sorted,  anguish  of  all  sizes, — 
 Fine  nets  and  stratagems  to  catch  u.s  in ; 
 Bibles  lay  open;  millicms  of  surprises; 
 Blessings  beforehand;  ties  of  gratefulness  j 
 The  sound  of  glory  ringing  in  our  ears ; 
 Without,   our    shame  ;    within,   our    con- 
 sciences ; 
 Angels  and  grace;  eternal  hopes  and  fears. 
 Herbert. 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Nature  of. 
 
 To  convince  of  sin  is  to  produce  a  living 
 and  lively  conviction  of  it;  to  teach  man- 
 
C02IVICTI0F  OF  SIN. 
 
 kind  what  sin  is ;  to  lay  it  bare  under  all 
 its  masks ;  to  trace  it  through  all  the 
 snares  of  its  web,  and  to  light  on  it  sitting 
 in  the  midst  thei'eof ;  to  show  to  man,  not 
 merely  as  it  flashes  forth  ever  and  anon  in 
 the  overt  actions  of  his  neighbours,  but  as 
 it  lies  smouldering  unextinguishably  with- 
 in his  own  bosom ;  to  give  him  a  torch 
 wherewith  he  may  explore  the  dark  cham- 
 bers of  his  own  heart;  to  lead  him  unto 
 them,  and  to  open  his  eyes  so  that  he 
 shall  behold  sin's  countless  brood  crouch- 
 ing or  gambolling  in  every  corner.  It  is 
 to  prove  to  him  that  it  lies  at  the  bottom 
 of  all  his  feelings,  and  blends  with  all  his 
 thoughts,  that  the  bright-coloured  stones, 
 with  which  he  is  so  fond  of  decking  him- 
 self out,  and  which  he  takes  such  delight 
 in  gazing  at,  are  only  so  many  bits  of 
 brittle,  worthless  glass,  and  that  which  he 
 deems  to  be  stars  are  earth-boi-n  meteors, 
 which  merely  glimmer  for  the  moment 
 they  are  ialling.  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 CONVICTION  OP  SIN— Necessity  of. 
 
 Unless  you  have  been  convinced  of  sin 
 you  can  never  have  entered  beyond  the 
 outskirts  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  If 
 you  liave  not  experienced  that  conviction, 
 if  you  do  not  feel  it  now,  the  Gospel,  it 
 is  most  certain,  cannot  to  you  be  the  wis- 
 dom and  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation ; 
 Christ  Jesus  cannot  have  been  made  your 
 Wisdom,  and  Righteousness,  and  Sauctifi- 
 cation,  and  Redemption.  A  man  who  had 
 been  born  in  a  prison,  and  had  spent  his 
 whole  life  in  it,  might  not  be  aware  that 
 there  was  anything  peculiarly  dismal  in 
 his  lot;  but  should  he  be  delivered  from 
 his  prison,  he  could  never  forget  tliat  he 
 had  once  been  a  captive,  and  now  is  free. 
 Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 Without  this  conviction  by  the  Spirit, 
 m  vain  would  the  Son  of  God  have  come 
 in  the  flesh ;  in  vain  would  He  have  died 
 on  the  cross  for  the  sins  of  mankind; 
 mankind  would  not,  could  not  have  been 
 saved.  They  could  not  because  they  would 
 not.  Unless  a  man  be  well  aware  that  he 
 is  labouring  under  a  disease,  he  will  not 
 think  of  asking  for  the  remedies  which 
 might  cure  him ;  nor  will  he  take  them, 
 although  you  hold  them  out  to  him,  and 
 although  their  efficacy  may  have  been 
 proved  in  a  multitude  of  cases,  more  es- 
 pecially if  they  happen  to  be  distasteful  to 
 his  vitiated  palate.  If  he  mistakes  the 
 convulsive  fits  of  a  fever  for  the  vigour  of 
 health,  he  will  not  consent  to  practise  that 
 abstinence  by  which  his  fever  might  be 
 subdued.  Nor,  unless  we  are  fully  con- 
 vinced that  oar  souls  are  tormented  by  a 
 deadly,  clinging  disease,  and  that  no  earthly 
 power  or   skill   can   heal  them,  shall   we 
 
 think  of  applying  earnestly  for  health  to 
 the  only  Physician  of  souls.  Ibid. 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Reproof  of  Sin  not. 
 Reproving  the  world  of  sin  is  a  most 
 inadequate  description  of  the  working  of 
 the  Spirit.  We  did  not  need  that  the  Spirit 
 of  God  should  come  down  from  heaven  to 
 reprove  the  world  of  sin.  The  words  of 
 men,  the  thoughts  of  men,  the  eloquence  of 
 men,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  do  this. 
 Every  preacher  of  righteousness,  from  the 
 days  of  Noah  down  to  the  present  day, 
 has  gone  about  reproving  the  world  of  sin. 
 Everybody  who  in  any  age  has  led  a  just 
 and  holy  life,  not  merely  one  positively 
 and  absolutely  so,  but  one  in  any  way 
 marked  in  comparison  with  his  neighbours, 
 has  reproved  the  world  of  sin,  at  least  by 
 his  deeds,  even  though  he  may  never  have 
 felt  called  to  do  so  by  his  words,  though 
 he  should  never  have  lifted  up  his  voice 
 against  sin  in  the  ears  of  the  world.  Nay, 
 it  is  not  necessary  that  a  man  should  him- 
 self be  holy  and  righteous,  in  order  that 
 he  should  cry  out  against  sin.  The  un- 
 holy may  do  so :  the  unrighteous  may  do 
 so :  the  greatest  and  chiefest  of  sinners 
 may  be  the  loudest  in  sending  forth  their 
 voice  through  their  hollow  mask  in  re- 
 proof of  their  neighbours.  Poetry  had 
 reproved  the  world  of  sin :  indeed  tliis  is 
 the  special  business  of  two  of  its  branches, 
 comedy  and  satire.  Philosophy  had  re- 
 proved the  world  of  sin ;  and  at  the  time 
 when  the  Spirit  of  God  began  His  great 
 work  of  convincing  the  world  of  sin,  the 
 rejiroofs  of  philosophy  had  become  severer 
 and  more  clamorous,  yet  also  vainer  than 
 ever,  as  she  sat  on  her  stately  throne  in 
 the  Porch,  But  what  is  the  world  the 
 better  for  all  this  laborious  reproving  ? 
 How  much  does  the  world  heed  it,  or  care 
 for  it?  No  more  than  the  crata  of  Etna 
 cares  for  the  roaring  and  lashing  of  the 
 waves  at  its  feet.  The  smoke  of  sin  will 
 still  rise  up,  and  stain  the  face  of  heaven, 
 —  the  flames  will  still  burst  forth,  and 
 spread  desolation  far  and  wide, — although 
 the  waves  of  reproof  should  roll  around 
 it  unceasingly  for  century  after  century. 
 In  fact,  the  whole  history  of  man  has 
 shown  that  reproof,  when  there  is  no 
 gentler  and  more  penetrative  power  work- 
 ing along  with  it,  instead  of  producing 
 conviction,  rather  provokes  the  heart  to 
 resist  it.  2'o  reprore  the  world  of  sin, 
 therefore,  is  a  task  no  way  worthy  of  the 
 Spirit  of  God ;  seeing  that  it  is  a  work 
 which  may  easily  be  wrought  without  His 
 special  help,  and  which  has  been  wrought 
 in  all  ages  without  it;  seeing  too  that  it 
 is  a  work  which,  when  it  is  accomplished, 
 is  of  little  avail,  but  passes  over  men's 
 hearts  like  the  wind  over  a  bare  rock, 
 scarcely  stirring  so  much   as  a   grain  of 
 
204 
 
 CCIIVICTION  OP  SIN— COUSAGE. 
 
 dust  from  it,  and  which  has  so  passed  for 
 age  after  nge  from  the  beginning  of  tlie 
 world  until  uow.  Archdeacon  Rare. 
 
 CONVICTION  OF  SIN— Thorough. 
 
 If  a  man  is  a  prey  to  a  mortal  disease 
 which  hreaks  out  in  blotches  and  sores, 
 there  is  no  use  in  merely  plastering  over 
 the  sores,  you  must  go  to  the  root  of  the 
 disease,  and  attiick  it  in  its  strongholds. 
 Else,  being  checked  from  venting  itself 
 outwardly,  it  will  rage  the  iiereelier  within. 
 Just  so  it  is  with  sin.  There  is  little 
 protit  in  telling  a  man  who  is  walking 
 after  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  that  such  or 
 such  an  act  is  wrong.  Unless  you  go  to 
 the  root  of  sin  within  him,  from  which  all 
 these  wrong  acts  spring,  even  though  you 
 should  persuade  him  to  break  off  some  bad 
 habits  and  practices,  you  will  do  little  real, 
 lasting,  essential  good.  Notwithstanding 
 this  reformation,  as  he  will  deem  it,  he 
 may  continue  just  as  sinful,  just  as 
 thorough  a  slave  of  sin  as  ever.  Nay,  his 
 case  may  be  still  more  hopeless;  for  his 
 having  overcome  a  bad  habit  or  two  may 
 beguile  him  into  fancying  that  he  is  the 
 master  of  his  own  heart,  can  sway  it 
 which  way  he  chooses,  and  has  only  to 
 will  in  order  to  become  a  paragon  of 
 virtue.  Ibid. 
 
 COUNSEL— Good. 
 
 Love  all,  trust  a  few. 
 Do  wrong  to  none  :  be  able  for  thine  enemy 
 Eather  in  power  than  use;  and  keep  thy 
 
 friend 
 Under  thy  own  life's  key :  be  checked  for 
 
 silence. 
 But  never  taxed  for  speech.     Shakespeare. 
 
 COUNSEL— lU. 
 
 The  kingdom  of  Israel  was  first  rent  and 
 broken  by  ill  counsel;  upon  which  counsel 
 there  are  set  for  our  .instruction  the  two 
 marks  whereby  bad  counsel  is  for  ever  best 
 discerned;  that  it  was  young  counsel  for 
 the  persons,  and  violent  counsel  for  the 
 matter.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 COUNSEL — Inconveniences  of. 
 
 The  inconveniences  that  have  been  noted 
 in  calling  and  using  counsel  are  three. 
 First,  the  revealing  of  affairs  whereby  they 
 become  no  secret.  Secondly,  the  weak- 
 ening of  the  authority  of  princes,  as  if  they 
 were  less  of  themselves.  Thirdly,  the 
 danger  of  being  unfaithfully  counselled, 
 and  more  for  the  good  of  them  that  coun- 
 sel than  of  him  that  is  counselled. 
 
 lUd. 
 
 COUNSEL— Propriety  of. 
 
 The  wisest  princes  need  not  think  it  any 
 diminution  to  their  greatness,  or  deroga- 
 tion   to    their    sufficiency,   to    rely   upon 
 
 counsel.  God  himself  is  not  without,  but 
 hath  made  it  one  of  the  great  names  of 
 His  beloved  Son,  the  Counsellor. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 
 COUNSEL— Stability  in. 
 
 Solomon  hath  pronounced  that "  in  coun- 
 sel is  stability."  Things  will  have  their 
 first  or  second  agitation ;  if  they  be  not 
 tossed  upon  the  arguments  of  counsel,  they 
 will  be  tossed  upon  the  waves  of  fortune, 
 and  be  full  of  inconstancy,  doing  and  un- 
 doing, like  the  reeling  of  a  drunken  man. 
 Hid. 
 
 COUNSEL— Trust  in. 
 
 The  greatest  trust  between  man  and 
 man  is  the  trust  of  giving  counsel.  For 
 in  other  confidences  men  commit  the  parts 
 of  life,  their  lands,  their  goods,  their 
 children,  their  credit,  some  particular 
 affair;  but  to  such  as  they  make  their 
 counsellors,  they  commit  the  whole:  by 
 how  much  the  more  they  are  obliged  to 
 all  faith  and  integrity.  Ihid. 
 
 COURAGE— Christian. 
 
 The  King  of  France  ordered  the  prince 
 De  Conde  his  choice  of  three  things ; — 
 First,  to  go  to  mass;  second,  to  die;  or, 
 third,  to  be  imprisoned  for  life.  The 
 answer  was, — "  With  regard  to  the  first  I 
 am  fully  determined  never  to  go  to  mass; 
 as  to  the  other  two  I  am  so  perfectly  in- 
 different that*  I  leave  the  choice  to  your 
 Majesty."  Anon. 
 
 Surrounded  by  a  host  of  foes, 
 
 Storm'd  by  a  host  of  foes  within, 
 
 Nor  swift  to  flee,  nor  strong  to  oppose. 
 Single  against  hell,  earth,  and  sin ; 
 
 Single,  yet  undismayed  I  am; 
 1  dare  believe  in  Jesu's  name. 
 
 What  though  a  thousand  hosts  engage 
 A  thousand  worlds  my  soul  to  shake; 
 
 I  have  a  shield  shall  quell  their  rage. 
 And  drive  the  alien  armies  back ; 
 
 Portray'd  it  bears  a  bleeding  Lamb; 
 I  dare  believe  in  Jesu's  name. 
 
 C.  Wesley. 
 
 COURAGE— Formation  of. 
 
 The  love  of  queen  and  country,  the  love 
 of  home,  the  cry  of  "  our  hearths  and  our 
 altars,"  has  made  many  a  coward  brave. 
 Faith  also  will  produce  courage,  even  with- 
 out any  very  deep  affection.  For  instance, 
 how  the  natural  courage  of  the  British 
 soldier  was  raised  to  the  heroic  by  tlie 
 knowledge  that  Wellington  was  with  the 
 army,  and  that  his  genius  was  present  in 
 every  movement  executed  by  the  battalions. 
 And' when  faith  in  the  wisdom  of  a  general, 
 and  love  to  his  person  and  the  cause  iie 
 represents,   meet   together   in  a   soldier's 
 
COURAGE. 
 
 203 
 
 spirit,  the  bright  flame  of  courage  rises 
 fierce  and  steiidy.  Garibaldi,  liis  men_  and 
 their  deeds,  will  furnish  abundant  illus- 
 tration of  these  principles.  In  the  same 
 way,  love  to  God  and  confidence  in  Hnn 
 will  produce  courage  in  His  service ;  and 
 the  lack  of  it  shows  a  deficiency  of  faith 
 and  love.  Thus  it  is  that  the  fearful  find 
 themselves  in  such  sad  company  in  Rev. 
 xxi,  8.  ^'""'-  I 
 
 COTJEAGE— Incentive  to. 
 
 As  Napoleon  s  soldiers  were  standing  on 
 an  eminence,  gazing  upon  the  pyramids  of 
 Egypt,  just  before  he  made  his  descent 
 upon  the  Mamelukes,  he  cried  out,  "  Sol- 
 diers, from  the  summits  of  yonder  pyramids, 
 forty  ages  survey  your  conduct ;  act  like 
 heroes."  Ye  Christians !  fighting  for  truth 
 and  heaven,  under  the  command  of  Jesus, 
 from  the  summits  of  the  everlasting  hills 
 in  heaven,  and  from  the  blazing  thrones  ot 
 eternity,  ten  thousand  angels  and  saints, 
 with  the  Almighty  sovereign  for  whom 
 YOU  are  fighting,  are  surveying  your  con  - 
 duct.  Be '  strong.  Quit  you  like  men. 
 Be  valiant  for  the  truth.  "  Act  like 
 heroes."  J<'^'"  ^«^^- 
 
 -^      See  there  the  starry  crown 
 
 That  glitters  through  the  skies; 
 Satan,  the  world,  and  sin  tread  down, 
 
 And  take  the  glorious  prize. 
 Courage,  your  Captain  cries. 
 
 Who  all  your  toil  foreknew,  _ 
 Toil  ye  shall  have,  yet  all  despise ; 
 
 I  have  o'ercome  for  you.      C.  Wesley. 
 
 COUKAGE— in  LowHness, 
 
 For,  ns  we  see  the  eclipsed  sun 
 
 By  mortals  is  more  gazed  upon,    _ 
 
 Than  when,  adorn'd  with  all  his  light. 
 
 He  shines  in  serene  sky  most  bright. 
 
 So  valour,  in  a  low  estate. 
 
 Is  more  admired  and  wonder'd  at. 
 
 S.  Butter. 
 
 COURAGE— Moral. 
 
 Moral  courage  is  a  virtue  of  a  higher 
 cast  and  nobler  origin  than  physical.  It 
 springs  from  a  consciousness  of  virtue,  and 
 renders  a  man,  in  the  pursuit  or  defence  of 
 rioht,  superior  to  the  fear  of  reproach,  op- 
 position, or  contempt.  S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 It  was  moral  courage  that  sustained  the 
 Apostles  in  undertaking  to  preach  the 
 religion  of  the  crucified  Jesus,  in  opposition 
 to  a  splendid  mythology  which  had  been 
 cherished  for  ages,  and  to  the  support  ot 
 which  the  architect  and  sculptor  had  long 
 con,ecrated  their  genius.  It  was  moral 
 cour.ige  that  sustained  Wilberforce, through 
 good  report  and  evil  report,  in  his  pro- 
 tracted etlbrts  to  effect  the  abolition  of  the 
 slave   trade.     It  was  moral  courage  that 
 
 sustained  Howard  In  his  pilgrimage  to 
 hundreds  of  prisons,  reckless  ot  in  lection 
 and  pestilence,  if  so  be  he  might  alleviat^e 
 the  misery  of  the  prisoners.  Ibid. 
 
 COURAGE— Moral  and  Physical. 
 
 We  all  understand  the  general  difference 
 hetween  physical  and  moral  courage;  the 
 one  belonging  rather  to  the  bodily  tem- 
 perament,  the  other  to  the  mind— the  one 
 to  the  animal,  the  other  to  the  man ;  phy- 
 sical courage  opposing   itself  to  dangers 
 which  threaten    tlie    person   or  the  lite; 
 moral  courage  the   opposite  of  weakness, 
 and  proof  against  ridicule,  false  shame,  the 
 fashion  of  the  day.     And  we  know  they 
 may  be  united— as  they  were,  for  example, 
 pre-eminently  combined  in  that  great  man 
 I  Duke  of  Wellington)  whose  loss  we  are 
 now  deploring ;— or  they  may  be  separated, 
 as  for  instance,  when  Cranmer  signed  his 
 recantation,  and  vet  afterwards  manifested 
 at  the    stake  the  most  unHinching  forti- 
 tude.     And    it   is  often  to  be  noted  that 
 those   who   abound    in    physical    courage, 
 '  never   appalled  by  dangers,  or  even  court- 
 ino-  them,  are  deficient  in  moral  courage, 
 afraid  of  their  companions,  easily  seduced 
 to  evil,  shrinking  before  a  laugh  or  a  sneer. 
 Dr.  Rawkms. 
 COURAGE— Physical. 
 
 This  is  chiefly  a  constitutional  endow- 
 ment, though  it  may  be  cultivated  by 
 iudiclous  training.  It  is  that  unflinching 
 'steadiness  of  nerve  which  impelled  Putnam 
 to  enter  the  wolf's  den,  and  face  the 
 o-reedy  brute  in  his  very  lair.  It  is  a  sen- 
 timent which  renders  an  individual  supe- 
 rior to  a  feeling  of  personal  danger.  It 
 '  peculiarly  befits  the  soldier  and  the  seaman, 
 and  all  who  are  called  upon  to  exercise 
 cool  iudgment  in  situations  of  peril. 
 
 "^     "  S.G.  Goodrich. 
 
 COURAGE— Silence  of. 
 
 When  Homer  maketh  his  brave  captains 
 march,  he  gives  them  silence  for  guide. 
 Contrariwise,  he  maketh  cowards  to  babble, 
 and  chatter  like  cranes;  the  one  pass 
 along  like  great  rivers,  letting  their  streams 
 glide  softly  with  silent  majesty  ;  the  others 
 do  nothing  else  but  murmur  like  little 
 brooks  :  a  sign  of  not  being  valiant  at  all 
 is  to  strive  to  seem  valiant.        N.  Caussin. 
 
 COURAGE— True. 
 
 True  courage  is  not  the  brutal  force 
 
 Of  vulgar  heroes,  but  the  firm  resolve 
 
 Of  virtue  and  of  reason.     He  who  thinks 
 
 Without  their  aid  to  shine  in  deeds  of  arms 
 
 Builds  on  a  sandy  basis  his  renown  ; 
 
 A  dream,  a  vapour,  or  an  ague  fit. 
 
 May  make  a  coward  of  him.        Whitehead. 
 
 He's  truly  valiant  that  can  wisely  suflfer 
 The  worst  that  man  can  breathe,  and  make 
 his  wrongs 
 
206 
 
 COTJEAGE  AND  INNOCEJTCE— COVETOUS. 
 
 His  outsides ;  to  wear  tliem  like  his  raiment, 
 
 carelessly ; 
 And  ne'er  prefer  his  injuries  to  his  heart. 
 To  bring  it  into  danger.  Shakespeare. 
 
 COUEAGE  AND  INNOCENCE— Christian. 
 As  Christ  was  both  a  Lamb  and  a  Lion, 
 so  is  every  Christian  :  a  Lamb  for  patience 
 in  suffering  and  innocence  of  life;  a  Lion 
 for  boldness  in  his  innocency.  I  would  so 
 order  my  courage  and  mildness,  that  I  may 
 be  neither  lion-like  in  my  conversation, 
 nor  sheepish  in  the  defence  of  a  good 
 cause.  -2p.  Kail, 
 
 COUEAGE  AND  FOETITUDE. 
 
 Courage  is  that  power  of  the  mind  which 
 bears  up  against  the  evil  that  is  in  prospect; 
 fortitude  is  that  power  which  endures  the 
 pain  that  is  felt  ;  the  man  of  courage  goes 
 with  the  same  coolness  to  the  mouth  of  the 
 cannon,  as  the  man  of  fortitude  undergoes 
 the  amputation  of  a  limb.  Horatius  Codes 
 displayed  his  courage  in  defending  a  bridge 
 against  a  whole  army  of  the  Etruscans  : 
 Caius  Mucins  displayed  no  less  fortitude 
 ■when  he  thrust  his  hand  into  the  fire  in 
 the  presence  of  King  Porsenna,  and  awed 
 him  as  nuich  by  his  language  as  his  action. 
 
 Courage  seems  to  be  more  of  a  manly 
 virtue  ;  fortitude  is  more  distinguishable  as 
 a  feminine  virtue :  the  former  is,  at  least, 
 most  adapted  to  the  male  sex,  who  are 
 called  upon  to  act,  and  the  latter  to  the 
 females,  who  are  obliged  to  endure  :  a  man 
 without  courage  would  be  as  ill-prepared 
 to  discharge  his  duty  in  his  intercourse 
 with  the  world,  as  a  woman  without  forti- 
 tude would  be  to  support  herself  under  the 
 complicated  trials  of  body  and  mind  with 
 which  she  is  liable  to  be  assailed.  G.  Crahb. 
 COUETESY— to  Inferiors. 
 
 As  the  sword  of  the  bust-tempered  metal 
 is  most  flexible,  so  the  truly  generous  are 
 most  pUant  and  courteous  in  their  be- 
 haviour to  their  inferiors.  T.  Fuller. 
 COUETESY— among  the  Poor. 
 
 Coixrtesy, 
 Which  oft  is  sooner  found  in  lowly  sheds. 
 With  smoky  rafters,  than  in  tap'stry  halls. 
 And  courts  of  princes,  where  it  first  was 
 named.  Milton. 
 
 COUETESY— Power  of. 
 
 Courtesy  to  noble  minds  are  not  only 
 gifts,  but  purchases,  that  buy  men  out  of 
 their  own  liberty.  Violence  and  compul- 
 sion are  not  half  so  dangerous ;  these  be- 
 siege us  openly,  give  us  leave  to  look  to 
 ourselves,  to  collect  our  forces,  and  re- 
 fortify  when  we  are  sensible  of  our  own 
 weakness ;  but  the  other  undermines  us  by 
 a  fawning  stratagem  ;  and  if  we  be  enemies 
 they  make  us  lay  down  our  woa-pons,  and 
 take  up  love.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 COVENANT— Definition  of. 
 
 A  covenant  is  a  contract,  or  agreement 
 between  two  or  more  parties  on  certain 
 terms.  C.  Buck. 
 
 COVENANT  OF  GOD  WITH  MAN— The. 
 
 God's  covenant  with  man  is  a  gracious 
 engagement  on  the  part  of  God  to  com- 
 municate certain  unmerited  favour  to  men, 
 in  connection  with  a  particular  constitution 
 or  system,  through  means  of  which  these 
 favours  are  to  be  enjoyed.  Hence  in 
 Scripture  the  covenant  of  God  is  called  His 
 "  counsel,"  His  "  oath,"  His  "  promise." 
 
 W.  L.  Alexander. 
 
 COVENANT  OE  GEACE— The. 
 
 The  covenant  of  grace  is  generally  de- 
 fined to  be  that  which  was  made  with 
 Christ,  as  the  second  Adam,  and  in  Him 
 with  all  believers  as  His  seed  (Isa.  xliii, 
 1—6 ;  1  Pet.  i,  20  ;  Isa.  lii,  13).     C.  Buck. 
 
 COVENANT  OF  WOEKS— The. 
 
 The  covenant  of  works  is  tliat  whereby 
 God  requires  perfect  obedience  from  His 
 creatures,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  no 
 express  provi-<ion  for  the  pardon  of  offences 
 committed  against  the  precepts  of  it  on  the 
 repentance  of  such  offenders,  but  pronounces 
 a  sentence  of  death  upon  them.  Hid. 
 
 COVETOUS— The. 
 
 Whosoever,  when  a  just  occasion  calls, 
 either  spends  not  at  all,  or  not  in  some 
 proportion  to  God's  blessing  upon  him,  is 
 covetous.  The  reason  of  the  ground  is 
 manifest  ;  because  wealth  is  given  to  that 
 end,  to  supply  our  occasions.  Now,  if  I 
 do  not  give  everything  its  end,  1  abuse  the 
 creature ;  I  am  false  to  my  reason,  which 
 should  guide  me ;  I  offend  the  Supreme 
 Judge,  in  perverting  that  order  which  He 
 hath  set  both  to  those  things  and  to 
 reason.  The  application  of  the  ground 
 would  be  infinite.  But,  in  brief,  a  poor 
 man  is  an  occasion ;  my  country  is  an  oc- 
 casion ;  my  friend  is  an  occasion ;  my  table 
 is  an  occasion  ;  my  apparel  is  an  occasion. 
 If  in  all  these,  and  those  more  which  con- 
 cern me,  I  either  do  nothing,  or  pinch,  and 
 scrape,  and  squeeze  blood,  indecently  to  the 
 station  wherein  God  hath  placed  me,  I  am 
 covetous.  More  particularly,  and  to  give 
 one  instance  for  all :  if  God  have  given  me 
 servants,  and  I  either  provide  too  little  for 
 them,  or  that  which  is  unwholesome,  being 
 sometimes  baned  meat,  sometimes  too  salt, 
 and  so  not  competent  nourishment,  I  am 
 covetous.  I  bring  this  example,  because 
 men  usually  think  th.at  servants  for  their 
 money  are  as  other  things  that  they  buy ; 
 even  as  a  piece  of  wood,  which  they  may 
 cut,  or  hack,  or  throw  into  the  fii-e;  and 
 so  they  pay  them  their  wages,  all  is  well. 
 Nay,  to  descend  yet  more  particularly  :  it' a 
 
COVETOUS. 
 
 207 
 
 man  hath  wherewithal  to  buy  a  spade,  and 
 yet  he  chooseth  rather  to  use  his  neigh- 
 bour's, and  wear  out  that,  he  is  covetous. 
 Nevertheless,  few  bring  covetousness  thus 
 low,  or  consider  it  so  narrowly  ;  which  yet 
 ought  to  be  done,  since  there  is  a  justice 
 in  the  least  things,  and  for  the  least  there 
 shall  be  a  judgment.  George  Herbert. 
 
 COVETOUS— Characteristics  of  the. 
 
 The  covetous  man  pines  in  plenty,  like 
 Tantalus  up  to  the  chin  in  water,  and  yet 
 thirsty.  T.  Adams. 
 
 lake  a  chymist,  he  turns  everything  into 
 silver,  what  he  should  wear,  and  what  he 
 should  eat,  and  so  robs  back  and  belly  of 
 warmth,  of  sustenance.  Il/id. 
 
 The  covetous  give  more  heed  to  the 
 priests  of  Janus,  than  to  the  apostles  of 
 Jesus.  Ibid. 
 
 His  looks  to  his  entering  guests  are  like 
 Diana's  image  in  Chios,  which  frowned  with 
 a  lowering  countenance  on  all  that  came 
 into  the  temple,  but  looked  blithe  and 
 smiled  on  them  that  departed.  Ibid. 
 
 As  the  dog  in  ^Esop's  fable  lost  the  real 
 flesh  for  the  shadow  of  it,  so  the  covetous 
 man  casts  away  the  true  riches  for  the 
 love  of  the  sliadowy.  Ibid. 
 
 COVETOUS— Degradation  of  the. 
 
 A  young  man  once  picked  up  a  sovereign 
 lying  in  the  road.  Ever  afterward,  in 
 walking  along,  he  kept  his  eye  fixed  steadily 
 upon  the  ground  in  hopes  to  find  another. 
 And  in  the  course  of  a  long  life  he  did  pick 
 up,  at  different  times,  a  goodly  number  of 
 coins,  gold  and  silver.  But  all  these  years, 
 while  he  was  looking  for  them,  he  saw  not 
 that  the  heavens  were  bright  above  him, 
 and  nature  beautiful  around.  He  never 
 once  allowed  his  eyes  to  look  np  from  the 
 nuul  and  filth  in  which  he  sought  his  trea- 
 sure ;  and  when  he  died — a  rich  old  man — 
 he  only  knew  this  fair  earth  as  a  dirty  road 
 to  pick  up  money  as  you  walk  along. 
 
 Dr.  Jeffers. 
 
 COVETOUS— Delusion  of  the. 
 
 Some  of  us  may  remember  a  fable  of  a 
 covetous  man,  w  lio  chanced  to  find  his  way 
 one  moonlight  night  into  a  fairy's  palace. 
 There  he  saw  bars,  apparently  of  solid  gold, 
 strewed  on  every  side ;  and  he  was  per- 
 mitted to  take  away  as  many  as  he  could 
 carry.  In  the  morning,  when  the  sun  rose 
 on  his  imaginary  treasure,  borne  home  with 
 so  much  toil,  behold !  there  was  only  a 
 bundle  of  sticks,  and  invisible  beings  filled 
 the  air  around  him  with  scornful  laughter. 
 Such  sliall  be  tlie  confusion  of  many  a  man 
 that  died  in  this  world  worth  his  thousands. 
 
 and  woke  up  in  the  next  worM  not  only 
 "  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and 
 naked"  (Rev.  iii,  17),  but  in  pi-esence  of  a 
 heap  of  fuel  stored  uj)  against  the  Greats 
 Day  of  burning  (Rom.  ii,  5).  Anon. 
 
 COVETOUS— Fears  of  the. 
 
 That  which  is  their  greatest  corrosive, 
 they  are  in  continual  suspicion,  fear  and 
 distrust.  He  thinks  his  own  wife  and 
 children  are  so  many  thieves,  and  go  about 
 to  cozen  him ;  his  servants  are  all  false  : 
 "  If  his  door  creak,  then  out  he  cries  anon. 
 His  goods  are  gone,  and  he  is  quite  un- 
 done." 
 
 "Timidus  Plutus,"  an  old  proverb,  Asfear- 
 ful  as  Plutus:  so  doth  Aristophanes  and 
 Lucian  bring  him  in  fearfal,  still,  pale, 
 anxious,  suspicious,  and  truistimg  no  man, 
 "  They  are  afraid  of  tempests  for  their  corn; 
 they  are  afraid  of  their  frSenids,  lest  they 
 should  ask  something  of  them,  beg  or 
 borrow  ;  they  are  afraid  &f  their  enemies, 
 lest  they  hurt  them  ;  thieves,  lest  they  rob 
 them ;  they  are  afraid  of  war,  and  afraid 
 of  peace  ;  afraid  of  rich,  and  afraid  of  poor  ; 
 afraid  of  all."  Last  of  all,  they  are  afraid 
 of  want,  that  they  shall  die  beggars;  which 
 makes  them  lay  up  still,  and  dai-e  not  use 
 that  they  have.  What  if  a  dear  year  come, 
 or  dearth,  or  some  loss  ?  And  were  it  not 
 that  they  are  loth  to  lay  out  money  on  a 
 rope,  they  would  be  haaged  forthwith, 
 and  sometimes  die  to  save  charges,  and 
 make  away  themselves,  if  their  com  and 
 cattle  miscarry ;  thoBgh  they  have  abun- 
 dance left,  as  Agellius  notes.  Valerius 
 makes  mention  of  one  that,  in  a  famine, 
 sold  a  mouse  for  two  hundred  pence,  and 
 famished  himself.  Such  are  their  cares, 
 griefs,  and  perpetual  fears.  These  symp- 
 toms are  elegantly  expressed  by  Theo- 
 phrastus,  in  his  character  of  a  covetous 
 man:  "Lying  in  bed  he  asked  his  wife 
 whether  she  shut  the  trunks  and  chests 
 fast,  the  cap-case  be  sealed,  and  whether 
 the  hall  door  be  bolted ;  and  though  she 
 say  all  is  well,  he  riseth  out  of  his  bed  in 
 his  shirt,  barefoot  and  barelegged,  to  see 
 whether  it  be  so,  with  a  dark  lantern 
 searching  every  corner,  scarce  sleeping  a 
 wink  all  night."  E.  Burton. 
 
 COVETOUS— Insatiableness  of  the. 
 
 He  that  is  greedy  of  grain  will  never  be 
 stayed  in  that  his  desire ;  not  only  because 
 it  is  impossible  for  him  to  obtain  all  men's 
 goods,  but  also  because,  whatever  he  may 
 have  compassed,  he  counts  himself  to  have 
 nothing.  But  the  despiser  of  riches  will 
 deem  it  all  superfluous,  and  will  not  have 
 to  punish  his  soul  with  endless  desires. 
 I  say,  punish ;  for  nothing  so  completely 
 an-^wers  the  definition  of  punishment  as 
 desire  deprived  of  gratification;  a  thing 
 
COVETOUS— COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 too,  wli'ch  especially  marks  his  perverse 
 ininci.  Look  at  it  in  tliis  way.  He  that 
 lusts  after  riches,  and  hath  increased  his 
 store,  he  is  the  sort  of  person  to  feel  as  if 
 he  had  nothing.  I  ask,  then,  what  more 
 complicated  than  this  disease  ?  And  the 
 strange  thing  is  not  this  only,  hut  that, 
 although  having,  he  thinks  he  has  not  the 
 very  things  which  are  in  his  hold,  and,  as 
 though  he  had  them  not,  he  bewails  him- 
 self. If  he  even  get  all  men's  goods,  his 
 pain  is  but  greater.  And  should  he  gain 
 an  hundred  talents,  he  is  vexed  that  he 
 hath  not  received  a  thousand ;  and  if  he 
 receive  a  thousand,  he  is  stung  to  the 
 quick  that  it  is  not  ten  thousand ;  and  if 
 he  receive  ten  thousand,  he  utterly  be- 
 moans himself,  because  it  is  not  ten  times 
 as  much.  And  the  acquisition  of  more  to 
 him  becomes  so  much  more  poverty ;  for 
 the  more  he  receives  so  much  the  more 
 he  desires.  So,  then,  the  more  he  receives, 
 the  more  he  becomes  poor;  since  whoso 
 desires  more,  is  more  truly  poor .  When, 
 then,  he  hath  an  hundred  talents,  is  he  not 
 very  poor  ?  for  he  desires  a  thousand. 
 When  he  hath  got  a  thousand  then  he  be- 
 comes yet  poorei  For  it  is  no  longer  a 
 thousand  as  before,  but  ten  thousand  that 
 he  professes  himself  to  want.     Chrysostom. 
 
 COVETOUS— Madness  of  the. 
 
 Damasippus,  the  stoic,  in  Horace,  proves 
 that  all  mortal  men  dote  by  tits,  some  one 
 ■way,  some  another  ;  but  that  covetous  men 
 are  madder  than  the  rest;  and  he  that 
 shall  truly  look  into  their  estates,  and  ex- 
 amine their  symptoms,  shall  find  no  better 
 of  them  but  that  they  are  all  fools,  as 
 Nabal  was.  For  what  greater  folly  can  I 
 there  be,  or  madness,  than  to  macerate  ' 
 himself  when  he  need  not  ?  And  when,  as 
 Cyprian  notes,  "  he  may  be  freed  from  his 
 burden,  and  eased  of  his  pains,  will  go  on 
 still,  his  wealth  increasing,  when  he  hath 
 enough,  to  get  more  to  live  beside  him- 
 self," to  starve  his  genius,  keep  back  from 
 his  wife  and  children,  neither  letting  them, 
 nor  friends,  use  or  enjoy  that  which  is 
 theiis  by  right,  and  which  they  much  need 
 perhaps ;  like  a  hog,  or  dog  in  the  manger, 
 he  doth  only  keep  it,  because  it  shall  do 
 nobody  else  good,  hurting  himself  and 
 others;  and  for  a  little  momentary  pelf, 
 damn  his  own  soul  ?  They  are  commonly 
 sad  and  tetric  by  nature,  as  Ahab's  spirit 
 ■was,  because  he  could  not  get  Naboth's 
 vineyard.  H.  Burton. 
 
 COVETOUS— Miseries  of  the. 
 
 Lucian,  in  that  pleasant  and  witty  dia- 
 logue called  Gallus,  brings  in  Mycillus  the 
 cobbler  disputing  with  his  cock,  sometimes 
 Pythagoras;  where,  after  much  speech, 
 pro  and  con.,  to  prove  the  happiness  of  a 
 mean  estate,  and  the  discontents  of  a  rich 
 
 man,  Pythagoras'  cock  in  the  end,  to  illus- 
 trate by  examples  that  which  he  had  said, 
 brings  him  to  Gnyphon  the  usurer's  house 
 at  midnight,  and  after  that  to  Eucrates ; 
 whom  they  found  both  awake,  casting  up 
 their  accounts,  and  telling  of  their  money, 
 lean,  dry,  pale  and  anxious,  still  suspecting 
 lest  somebody  should  make  a  hole  through 
 the  wall,  and  so  get  in ;  or  if  a  rat,  or  mouse, 
 did  but  stir,  starting  upon  a  sudden,  and 
 running  to  the  door  to  see  whether  all 
 were  fast.  Plautus,  in  his  Aulularia, 
 makes  old  Euclio,  commanding  Staphyla 
 his  wife,  to  shut  the  doors  fast,  and  the 
 fire  to  be  put  out,  lest  anybody  sliould 
 make  that  an  errand  to  come  to  his  house; 
 when  he  washed  his  hands  he  was  loth  to 
 fling  away  the  foul  water,  complaining 
 that  he  was  undone,  because  the  smoke  got 
 out  of  his  roof.  And  as  he  went  from 
 home,  seeing  a  crow  scratch  upon  the 
 muck -hill,  returned  in  haste,  taking  it  for 
 malum  omen,  an  ill  sign,  his  money  was 
 digged  up;  with  many  such.  He  that 
 will  but  observe  their  actions,  shall  find 
 these  and  many  such  passages  not  feigned 
 for  sport,  but  really  performed,  verified 
 indeed  by  such  covetous  and  miserable 
 wretches,  and  that  it  is 
 
 "  manifesta  phrenesis 
 Ut  locuples  moriaris  egenti  vivere  fato." 
 
 A  mere  madness,  to  live  like  a  wretch,  and 
 die  rich.  £,.  Burton. 
 
 COVETOUS— Testing  the. 
 
 About  eight  years  since  (says  a  corres- 
 pondent of  the  '  New  York  Evangelist '  of 
 1833),  while  obtaining  subscriptions  for  a 
 benevolent  purpose,  I  called  upon  a  gentle- 
 man in  one  of  our  largest  cities,  who  gene- 
 rously contributed  to  the  object.  Before 
 leaving,  I  said  to  him,  "  How  much,  think 
 you,  will  such  an  individual  subscribe?" 
 "  I  don't  know,"  said  he,  "  but  could  you 
 hear  that  man  pray,  you  would  think 
 he  would  give  you  all  he  is  worth."  I 
 called  upon  him,  and  to  my  surprise  he 
 would  not  contribute.  As  I  was  about  to 
 take  my  leave  of  him,  I  said  to  him,  "  As 
 I  came  to  your  house,  I  asked  an  individual 
 what  he  thought  you  would  probably  give. 
 I  don't  know,"  said  he,  'but  could  you 
 hear  that  man  pray,  you  would  think 
 he  would  give  you  all  he  is  worth.' " 
 The  mans  head  dropped,  tears  gushed 
 from  his  eyes,  he  took  out  his  pocket-book, 
 and  gave  me  seventy- five  dollars.  He 
 could  not  withstand  this  argument;  his 
 heart  relented,  and  his  purse  opened. 
 
 K.  Arvine. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— Definitions  of. 
 
 Austin  defines  covetousness,  a  dishonest 
 and  insatiable  desire  of  gain  j    and  in  one 
 
COVETOUSNESS. 
 
 209 
 
 of  his  epistles  compares  it  to  hell,  "  which 
 devours  all,  and  yet  never  hath  enough,  a 
 bottomless  pit,"  and  endless  misery. 
 
 M.  Burton. 
 
 One  calls  it  a  metropolitan  sin  ;    it  is  a 
 
 complex  evil,  it  doth  twist  a  great  many 
 
 sins  in  with  it.     There  is  hardly  any  sin, 
 
 butcovetousuess  is  a  main  ingredient  into  it. 
 
 1\  Watson. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— Evils  of. 
 
 "  The  desire  of  money  is  the  root  of  all 
 evil,  and  they  that  lust  after  it,  pierce 
 themselves  through  with  many  sorrows " 
 (1  Tim.  vi,  10).  Hippocrates  therefore  in 
 his  epistle  to  Crateva,  an  herbalist,  gives 
 hiui  this  good  counsel,  that  if  it  were  pos- 
 sible "  amongst  other  herbs,  he  should 
 out  up  that  weed  covetousness  by  the  roots, 
 that  there  be  no  remainder  left,  and  then 
 know  tins  for  a  certainty,  that  together 
 with  their  bodies,  thou  mayest  quickly 
 cure  all  the  diseases  of  their  minds."  For 
 it  is,  indeed,  the  pattern,  image,  epitome, 
 of  all  melancholy,  the  fountain  of  many 
 miseries,  much  discontented  care  and  woe ; 
 this  "  inordinate,  or  immoderate  desire  of 
 gain,  to  get  or  keep  money,"  as  Bonaven- 
 ture  defines  it,  or,  as  Austin  describes  it, 
 a  madness  of  the  soul ;  Gregory,  a  torture  ; 
 Chrysostom,  an  insatiable  drunkenness; 
 Cyprian,  blindness,  speciosum  stippUcium, 
 a  plague  subverting  kingdoais,  families, 
 an  incurable  disease;  Budocus,  an  ill  habit, 
 "yielding  to  no  remedies."  Neither  Escu- 
 lapius  nor  Plutus  can  cure  them ;  a  con- 
 tinual pliigue,  saith  Solomon,  and  vexation 
 of  spirit,  another  hell.  R.  Burton. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— Examples  of. 
 
 Lahan  (Gen.  xxxi,  41) ;  Achan  (Jos.  vii, 
 21)  :  mi's  sons  {I  Sam.  ii,  12-14) ;  Samuel's 
 sons  (1  Sam.  viii.S);  Saul  (1  Sam.  xv,9,19); 
 Ah  ah  (1  Kings  xxi,2,&c.)  ;  Gehazi  (2  Kings 
 V,  20-24);  Nobles  of  theJeivs(Ne\i.  V,  7;  Isa. 
 i,  23);  Jewish  Priests  (Isa.  Ivi,  11;  Jer. 
 vi,  13) ;  Baln/lon  (Jer.  li,  13)  ;  Young  man 
 (]\Iatt.  xix,  22J  ;  Judas  (Matt,  xxvi,  14, 15)  ; 
 Pharisees  (Luke  xvi,  14) ;  Ananias,  cfc. 
 (Acts  v,  1-10) ;  Demetrius  (Acts  xix,  27) ; 
 Felix  (Acts  xxiv,  26);  Balaam  (2  Pet.  ii, 
 15,  with  Jude  11).  Anon. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— never  Satisfied. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Catiline,  that  he  was  ever 
 not  more  prodigal  of  his  own  than  desirous 
 of  other  men's  estates.  A  ship  may  be 
 overladen  with  silver,  even  unto  sinking, 
 and  yet  compass  and  bulk  enough  to  hold 
 ten  times  more.  So  a  covetous  man, 
 though  he  hath  enough  to  sink  him,  yet 
 never  hath  he  enough  to  satisfy  him  ;  like 
 that  miserable  caititf  mentioned  by  Theo- 
 critus, first  wishing  that  he  bad  a  thousand 
 sheep  iu  his  flock,  and  then  when  he  has 
 
 them,  he  would  have  cattle  without  number. 
 Thus  a  circle  caunot  fill  a  triangle,  so 
 neither  can  the  whole  world  (if  it  were  to 
 be  compassed)  the  heai-t  of  man;  a  man 
 may  as  easily  fill  a  chest  with  grace,  as  the 
 heart  with  gold.  The  air  fills  not  the  body, 
 neither  doth  money  the  covetous  mind  of 
 man.  Spencer. 
 
 "  When  I  was  a  lad,"  says  one,  "  an  old 
 gentleman  took  some  trouble  to  teach  me 
 some  little  knowledge  of  the  world.  With 
 this  view,  I  remember,  he  once  asked  me 
 when  a  man  was  rich  enough  ?  1  re- 
 plied '  When  he  has  a  thousand  pounds.' 
 He  said,  '  No.'  '  Two  thousand  ?'  '  No.' 
 '  Ten  thousand  ?'  '  No.'  '  Twenty  thou- 
 sand ?'  'No.'  'A  hundred  thousand?' 
 which  I  thought  would  settle  the  business; 
 but  he  still  continuing  to  say  '  No,'  I  gave 
 it  up,  and  confessed  I  could  not  tell,  but 
 begged  he  would  inform  me.  He  gravely 
 said,  '  When  he  has  a  little  more  than  he 
 has,  and  that  is  never  !  If  he  acquires  one 
 thousand,  he  wishes  to  have  two  thousand ; 
 then  five,  then  twenty,  then  fii'ty;  from 
 that  his  riches  would  amount  to  a  hundred 
 thousand,  and  so  on,  till  he  has  grasped 
 the  whole  world;  after  which  he  would 
 look  about  him,  like  Alexander,  for  other 
 worlds  to  possess.'  "  Anon. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— Spirit  of. 
 
 The  spirit  of  covetousness  which  leads  to 
 an  over-value  and  over-love  of  money  is  in- 
 dependent of  amount.  A  poor  man  may 
 make  an  idol  of  his  little  just  as  much  as 
 the  rich  man  makes  an  idol  of  his  much. 
 We  know  our  blessed  Lord's  own  declara- 
 tion how  the  poorest  person  may  exceed 
 in  charity  and  liberality  the  richest ;  and 
 that  is  by  giving  more  than  the  wealthy  in 
 proportion  to  the  whole  that  is  in  his  pos- 
 session. So  in  like  manner,  a  poor  man 
 may  be  more  covetous  than  a  wealthy 
 man,  because  he  may  keep  back  from  the 
 treasury  of  God  more  in  proportion  to  his 
 all  than  the  ricli  man  keeps  back  from 
 his  all.  If  the  Christian  character  is  de- 
 based and  heaven  is  lost  by  such  indulgence 
 of  covetousness  as  to  make  a  man  an 
 idolater  of  mammon,  it  is  of  little  conse- 
 quence whether  the  heart  be  set  on  an  idol 
 of  gold,  or  an  idol  of  clay.    E.  B.  Eamsay. 
 
 COVETOUSNESS— Warning  against. 
 
 "  Take  heed  and  beware  of  covetousness." 
 For,  manifestly,  this  was  "  the  error  of 
 Balaam."  He  looked  at  Bnlak's  bribe 
 till  it  fascinated  him.  The  "  love  of  money" 
 besieged  and  corrupted  his  affections. 
 Mammon  threw  his  golden  toils  around 
 him.  And  how  baleful  and  disastrous  was 
 the  working  of  the  spell,  the  story  reveals. 
 What  a  thing  of  discord  and  contradictions 
 14 
 
210 
 
 COWARDICE— CREATION. 
 
 his  heart  hecame  !  how  false  and  inconsis- 
 tent the  part  he  played !  and  how  un- 
 speakably awful  the  final  issues  of  his 
 avarice  !  Standing  therefore  over  Balaam's 
 blighted  character ;  standing  over  the 
 corses  of  the  four  and  twenty  thousand  that 
 were  smitten  with  the  plague  at  Baal-peor, 
 and  standing,  finally,  over  the  dead  body 
 of  the  prophet,  as  its  oozing  blood  reddens 
 the  battle-field  of  Midian,  we  read  this 
 lesson,  vivid  as  electric  flash,— "Take  heed, 
 and  beware  of  covetousness."      T.  Akroyd. 
 
 COWARDICE— Danger  of. 
 
 When  the  passengers  gallop  by  as  if  fear 
 made  them  speedy,  the  cur  follows  them 
 with  an  open  mouth;  let  them  walk  by  in 
 confident  neglect,  and  the  dog  will  not  stir 
 at  all ;  it  is  a  weakness  that  every  creature 
 takes  advantage  of.  /.  Beaumont. 
 
 COWARDICE— Discouragement  of. 
 
 Xothing  more  discourages  a  man  than 
 cowardice  and  a  base  fear  of  danger  ;  the 
 smooth  way  it  makes. difticult,  the  diflicult 
 inaccessible.  If  ever  he  does  any  thing- 
 well  it  was  fortune,  not  wisdom,  was  his 
 guide.  His  fear  begets  delay,  and  delay 
 begets  danger.  If,he  is  to  speak,  fear  puts 
 an  ague  into  his  tongue,  and  leaves  him 
 either  amazed  or  distracted ;  for  too  serious 
 an  apprehension  of  possible  shame  makes 
 him  forget  what  should  keep  him  against 
 it — plain  boldness,  bequeathing  to  all  his 
 faculties  and  senses.  Ihld. 
 
 COWARDICE— Fear  of. 
 
 His  hand  did  quake 
 And  tremble  like  a  leaf  of  aspen  green. 
 And  troubled  blood  through  his  pale  face 
 
 was  seen 
 To   come    and   go,  with  tidings  from    his 
 
 heart. 
 As  it  a  running  messenger  bad  been. 
 
 ^ijcnser. 
 
 C:SEATIOH— Act  of. 
 
 Long  lay  the  type  of  creation  in  His 
 searchiess  bosom.  From  eternity  it  had 
 there  been  resolved.  It  now  emanates  in 
 the  perfection  of  beauty.  It  now  beams 
 out  with  the  self-furnished  evidences  of 
 wisdom  and  love.  Chaos  hears  and  obeys! 
 The  work  is  begun  and  swiftly  hastens  to 
 its  consummation.  The  waters  fall  back  to 
 appointed  channels ;  the  solid  masses  are 
 fixed  to  sustain  and  bind  a  framework  of  a 
 thousand  orders  and  kinds  ;  the  distorted 
 twinklings  of  light  are  embodied  and  find 
 "  their  tabernacle  in  the  sun ;"  the  rugged 
 shapes  and  swells  into  lovely  forms,  and 
 melts  away  into  enchanting  landscapes  ;  the 
 repulsive  difi'erences  of  attraction,  instead 
 of  agitating  the  globe  to  its  centre,  gird 
 and  balance  it ;  the  latent  seeds  of  each 
 fair  flower   and  luscious  fruit   break  out 
 
 along  the  river  which  flowed  in  Eden  fo 
 water  the  garden;  and  the  wild  war  of 
 discords  hushed  into  soft  sunrise,  and 
 fragrant  breath,  and  holy  calm  of  a  Sabbath 
 dawn,  in  which  God  rested  fiom  His  work 
 and  "  was  refreshed,"  in  which  man  was 
 "  made  upright,"  stretched  forth  his  hands 
 to  his  Father-Creator,  with  songs  of  praise 
 comely  for  one  so  upright,  and  with  the 
 eff'ectual  fervent  prayer  of  one  so  righteous ; 
 in  which  higher  intelligences  took  a  holy 
 sympathy,  and  performed  a  benevolent 
 part, — while  hanging  with  wondering  de- 
 light over  the  teeming  scene,  the  sons  of 
 God  pressed  into  view  and  shouted  for  joy ! 
 Br.  R.  W.  RamiUon. 
 
 I  saw  when  at  His  word  the  formless  mass. 
 The  world's  material  world,  came  to  a  heap ; 
 Confusion  heard  His  voice,  and  wild  uproar 
 Stood  ruled,  stood  vast  infinitude  confined; 
 Till  at  His  second  bidding  darkness  fled. 
 Light    shone,    and    order  from    disorder 
 
 sprung  : 
 Swift  to  their  several  quarters  hasted  then 
 The  cumbrous  elements,  earth,  flood,  air, 
 
 fire; 
 And  this  etherial  quintessence  of  heaven 
 Flew  upward,  spirited  with  various  forms. 
 That  roll'd  orbicular,  and  turned  to  stars 
 Numberless,  as  thou  seest,  and  how  they 
 
 move; 
 Each   had  his   place  appointed,   each    his 
 
 course ; 
 The  rest  in  circuit  walk  this  universe. 
 
 Hilton. 
 
 CREATION— Animals  in. 
 
 Agassiz  and  A.  A.  G  uld  estimate  the 
 number  of  Vertebrated  Animals  at  20,000. 
 About  1500  species  of  mammals  are  ascer- 
 tained ;  probable  number,  '2000.  Birds, 
 well  known,  4000  or  5000  species;  pro- 
 bable number,  6000.  Beptiles,  1500  de- 
 scribed species ;  probable  number,  2000. 
 Fishes,  5000  to  6000  in  the  museums  of 
 Europe  ;  probable  number,  8000  or  10,000. 
 MolIi'.sJrs  in  collections,  8000  or  10,000. 
 Marine  shells,  bivalve  and  vmivalve,  in 
 collections,  5000  or  6C00;  and  land  and 
 Jill  viatilc  shells,  2000.  Total  number  of  mol- 
 lusks  probably  exceeds  15,000  species.  In- 
 sects, in  collections,  probably  60,000  or 
 70,000  species ;  probable  number  of  artica- 
 lata,lQ(j,000;  species, 200,000.  Add  to  these 
 10,000  for  radiata  (echini,  star-fishes,  me- 
 dusa;, and  polyi^i),  and  we  have  about 
 250,000  species  of  living  animals;  and 
 supposing  the  number  oi'  fossil  species  to 
 equal  them,  we  have,  at  a  very  moderate 
 computation,  half  a  million  species.  We 
 quote  this  estimate  from  MM.  Agassiz  and 
 Gould's  '  Principles  of  Zoology,'  Part  I, 
 1818.  The  vir.mhers  are  considered  to  be 
 mostly  under  the  present  mark ;  the  birds. 
 
CREATION". 
 
 211 
 
 for  example,  are  certninly  more  numerous, 
 and  probably  amount  to  SODO  species. 
 
 Timhs. 
 
 CREATION— a  Cathedral. 
 Your  voiceless  lips,  0  flowers,  are  living 
 preachers, 
 Each  cnyy  a  pulpit,  every  leaf  a  book. 
 Supplying  to  my  fancy  numerous  teachers 
 From  loneliest  nook. 
 
 'Neath  cloister'd  boughs   each  floral  bell 
 that  swingeth, 
 And  tolls   its   perfume  on  the  passing 
 air, 
 Makes   Sabbath  in  the   fields,   and    ever 
 ringeth 
 
 A  call  to  prayer, — 
 
 Not  to  the  domes  where  crumbling  arch 
 and  column 
 Attest  the  feebleness  of  mortal  hand. 
 But    to    that    fane    most    catholic    and 
 solemn 
 
 Which  God  hath  planned, — 
 
 To  that  cathedral,  boundless  as  our  wonder, 
 Whose    quenchless   lamps  the  sun   and 
 moon  supply. 
 Its  choir  the  winds   and  waves,  its   organ 
 thunder, 
 
 Its  dome  the  sky. 
 
 There,  amid  solitude  and  shade,  I  wander 
 Through  the  green  aisles,  and,  stretch'd 
 lapon  the  sod. 
 Amid  the  silence  reverently  jionder 
 
 The  ways  of  God.  LongfeUow. 
 
 CREATION— Groaning  of. 
 
 Cries  of  pain  rise  from  this  Eden  of  ours. 
 They  come  from  the  forest  glade,  where  the 
 hawk  pounces  upon  some  quivering  thing  ; 
 from  the  village,  where  the  peasant  takes 
 the  new-born  lamb  from  its  mother ;  they 
 come  still  more  from  cities, — clamours, 
 sinister  laughs,  slaughtered  cattle,  sobs, 
 threats,  men  who  kill,  who  are  killed  ;  tears 
 of  those  who  refuse  to  be  comforted !  And 
 those  who  do  not  cry  out,  whom  we  do  not 
 hear,  are  those  who  sufter  most. 
 
 Fly  from  our  civilised  countries  ;  go  to 
 the  centre  of  Africa,  what  do  you  find 
 there  ?  A  sandy  desert  so  steeped  in  blood, 
 such  wholesale  massacres,  that  travellers  of 
 every  creed  call  those  negro-lands  the  king- 
 dom of  Satan. 
 
 On  their  coasts,  caravans  of  slaves  with 
 halters  round  their  neck,  beaten,  bartered, 
 piled  on  one  another  between  decks,  ex- 
 posed to  sale,  dragged  oS"  to  plantations, 
 married,  unmarried,  at  their  master's  will, 
 dying  under  the  lash.  In  Pagan  isles, 
 wars,  massacres,  cannibalism.  In  China, 
 Persia,  India,  refined  cruelties,  of  which 
 our  nerves  cannot  bear  the  recital.  In 
 every  latitude,  human  brutality,  taking 
 advantage   of   the   helplessness   of    dumb 
 
 animals,  cowardly  cruelty,  or  cruel  knid- 
 ness  !  Madame  de  Gasjjuilii. 
 
 CREATION— Magnitude  of. 
 
 This  earth  wanders  not  alone;  but  a 
 sweet  fellowship  of  sister-spheres  is  bound 
 together,  cheering  each  other  from  afar, 
 and  from  one  telling  it  to  all  of  a  mutual 
 law  and  indissoluble  bond.  Within  the 
 limits  of  this  smaller  economy  burns  the 
 sun,  so  that  in  the  act  of  creation,  from 
 which  our  abode  arose,  we  necessarily  in- 
 clude all  the  planetary  apparatus,  knowing 
 that  there  the  centre  was  fixed,  and  that 
 each  globe  was  launched  in  its  circlings 
 around  it.  The  mundane  and  sublunai-y 
 form  only  a  little  fragment  of  the  work,  an 
 inferior  department  of  the  great  transac- 
 tion. And  what  are  the  few  worlds  which 
 sweep  with  us  about  the  same  source  of 
 life  and  light?  Massive,  ponderous  in 
 themselves  J  some  of  them  immensely 
 larger  than  our  own,  running  wider  revo- 
 lutions, and  drawing  after  them  brighter 
 trains.  But  even  this  one  solar  fiunily, 
 recognising  and  claiming  members  in  the 
 outskirts  of  space, — it  is  as  nothing  to 
 what  the  eye  can  command,  nothing  to  tlie 
 visible  !  What  constellations  are  thrown 
 over  the  firmament  in  all  the  profusion  of 
 beauty  and  magnificence  !  And  when  the 
 unaided  sense  has  roamed  to  its  utmost 
 ken,  and  gazed  to  its  utmost  strength, 
 it  may  call  the  instruments  of  science 
 to  its  assistance ;  and  it  shall  look  out  on 
 ampler  territories,  and  take  hold  of  larger 
 notices.  Now  we  leave  our  nook.  We 
 speak  in  no  terms  of  exaggeration 
 when  we  describe  what  we  see  as  beds, 
 and  floors,  and  clouds,  of  stars.  As  we 
 pierce  the  awful  altitudes,  we  ascend  to 
 new  w^onders.  Apertures  constantly  open, 
 and  we  are  just  sufi'ered  a  glimpse  into 
 them.  Heaven  spreads  above  heaven,  new 
 arrangements  stand  revealed,  and  celestial 
 bodies,  in  shapes  hitherto  undeveloj.ed, 
 flame  as  at  the  portal  of  the  Eternal 
 Throne,  to  guard  its  access  and  procl;;i;n 
 its  terribleness.  Yet  even  there  are  proofs 
 that  discovery  has  not  closed  its  researches ; 
 still  avenue  verges  from  avenue,  and  height 
 rises  into  height.  And  after  all,  this  is 
 but  the  outer  court  of  "  His  high  and  holy 
 place."  Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 CREATION— Order  In. 
 
 Take  up  the  commonest  plant — the  furze 
 that  grows  on  the  common,  the  seaweed 
 that  clings  to  the  rocks  washed  by  the 
 ocean,  or  the  fern  that  springs  up  in  the 
 mountain  glen — and  you  may  observe  in 
 its  structure,  in  its  leaves,  or  pendicles 
 a  wonderful  correspondence  of  side  to  side, 
 and  part  to  part.  Let  the  eye  travel  over 
 nature  as  we  walk  among  the  cultivated 
 fields,  or  the  grassy  slopes  and  valleys  of 
 
212 
 
 CREATION— CRIME. 
 
 our  upland  cmmtries,  or  among  the  thiclc 
 wonds  where  the  winds  have  strewn  the 
 seeds,  and  bush  and  tree  of  every  kind 
 spring  up,  each  eager  to  maintain  its  place, 
 and  to  show  its  separate  form  and  beauty — 
 and  we  discover  an  order  in  every  branch, 
 and  blade,  and  leaf,  and  shade,  and  colour. 
 Take  up  a  leaf  or  flower,  and  examine  with 
 or  without  the  aid  which  art  can  furnish, 
 and  observe  how  one  edge  has  the  same 
 number  of  notches  upon  it  as  the  other 
 edge,  and  what  nice  balancings  and 
 counterpoises  there  are,  and  how  nicely 
 the  lines  and  dots  and  shadings  of  colour 
 suit  each  other  and  recur  each  at  its 
 proper  place,  as  if  all  had  been  done  by 
 the  most  exact  measurement,  and  under 
 the  most  skilful  and  tasteful  eye.  Enter 
 the  rich  arbour  or  the  cultivated  garden 
 and  observe  how  the  flowers  have  been  en- 
 larged and  improved  by  the  care  which  has 
 been  taken  of  them,  and  in  this  gayer 
 colour  and  that  fuilcr  expanse  and  more 
 flowing  drapery,  and  rich  fragrance,  mark 
 how  God,  who  rewards  us  for  opening  our 
 eyes  and  looking  abroad  on  His  works, 
 holds  out  a  still  greater  reward  to  those 
 who,  in  love  to  Him,  or  in  love  to  them, 
 take  pains  with  and  bestow  labour  upon 
 them. 
 
 Itising  higher,  we  find  all  leading  events 
 in  the  earth  and  heavens  to  run  in  periods. 
 Plants  have  their  seasons  for  budding,  and 
 growing,  and  bearing  seed  and  fruit,  and 
 their  whole  existence  is  for  an  allotted 
 time.  The  life  of  animals  and  of  man  him- 
 self is  a  period ;  and  it  has  its  periodic  de- 
 velopments of  infancy,  youth,  and  manhood, 
 and  old  age.  The  very  diseases  of  the  human 
 frame  have  their  periods.  The  events  of 
 history  in  respect  of  politics,  civilisation, 
 science,  literature,  and  religion,  can  be 
 arranged  into  cycles;  and  as  a  whole  ex- 
 hibit a  regidar,  though  a  somewhat  com- 
 plex jirogression.  The  tides  of  the  ocean, 
 and  in  many  places  the  currents,  flow  in 
 periods ;  and  in  some  countries,  the  winds 
 blow  and  the  rains  fall  at  certain  regular 
 seasons.  The  variations  of  magnetism  on 
 the  earth's  surface  seem  to  be  periodical. 
 The  changes  in  the  condition  of  the  earth 
 have  been  arranged  into  geological  epochs. 
 The  year  is  a  period  and  it  has  its  seasons ; 
 and  there  are  magni  annii  in  the  move- 
 ments of  the  planets,  and  the  revolutions  of 
 the  binary  and  multiple  stars,  and  probably 
 also  in  the  movements  of  the  constellations 
 and  groups  of  the  nebular  heavens. 
 
 McCosh. 
 CEEATION— Profusion  in. 
 
 What  profusion  is  there  in  His  work  ! 
 When  trees  blossom  there  is,  not  a  single 
 breastpin,  but  a  whole  bosom-full  of  gems; 
 and  of  leaves  they  have  so  many  suits  that 
 they  can  throw  them  away  to  the  winds  all 
 
 summer  long.  What  unnumbered  cathe- 
 drals has  He  reared  in  the  forest  shades, 
 vast  and  grand,  full  of  curious  carvings, 
 and  haunted  evermore  by  tremulous  music ; 
 and  in  the  heavens  above,  how  do  stars 
 seem  to  have  flown  out  of  His  hand  faster 
 than  sparks  out  of  a  mighty  foige ! 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 CREATION-  the  Work  of  God. 
 
 Creation  is  the  work  of  God:  "without 
 Him  was  not  anything  made  that  was 
 made."  He  only  can  create.  The  archi- 
 tect can  rear  a  cathedral,  the  sculptor  can 
 cut  forms  of  symmetry  and  grace  from 
 marble,  the  painter  can  depict  life  on  his 
 canvass,  the  machinist  can  construct  engines 
 that  shall  serve  the  nations,  but  not  one  of 
 them  can  create.  They  work  with  materials 
 already  in  existence.  They  bring  existing 
 things  into  new  combinations ; — this  is  all. 
 God  alone  can  create.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 The  heavens  are  a  point  from  the  pen  of 
 
 His  perfection; 
 The  world  is  a  rosebud  from  the  bower  of 
 
 His  beauty; 
 The  sun  is  a  spark  from  the  light  of  His 
 
 wisdom : 
 And  the  sky  a  bubble  on  the  sea  of  His 
 
 power.  Sir  W.  Jones, 
 
 Not  a  flower 
 But  shows  some  touch,  in  freckle,  streak, 
 
 or  stain, 
 Of  His  unrivall'd  pencil.     He  inspires 
 Their  balmy  odours,  and  imparts  their  hues. 
 And  bathes  their   eyes  with   nectar,  and 
 
 includes 
 In    grains    as    countless    as    the    seaside 
 
 sands. 
 The  forms  with  which  He  sprinkles  all  the 
 
 earth.  Coiv^er. 
 
 Thy  parent-hand.  Thy  forming  skUl, 
 
 Firm  flx'd  this  universal  chain; 
 Else  empty  barren  darkness  still 
 
 Had  held  his  unmolested  reign. 
 Whate'er  in  earth,  or  sea,  or  sky, 
 
 Or    shuns     or    meets     the    wandering 
 thought. 
 Escapes  or  strikes  the  searching  eye. 
 
 By  Thee  was  to  perfection  brought. 
 
 C.  Wesley. 
 
 CRIME— Beginning  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  adult  male  criminals  in 
 London,  not  two  in  a  hundred  have  en- 
 tered upon  a  course  of  crime  who  have 
 lived  an  honest  life  up  to  the  age  of  twenty; 
 almost  all  who  enter  upon  a  course  of  crime 
 do  so  between  the  ages  of  eight  and  six- 
 teen. Earl  of  ShafLesbury. 
 
CEIHE— CHOSS. 
 
 213 
 
 CRIME— Productiveness  of. 
 
 Oh,  how  will  crime  engender  crime  !  throw 
 
 guilt 
 Upon  the  soul,  and,  like  a  stone  cast  on 
 The  troubled  waters  of  a  lake, 
 'Twill  form   in   circles   round   succeeding 
 
 round. 
 Each  wider  than  the  first.  Colman. 
 
 CROSS— Bearing  the. 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  nearer  heaven ; 
 
 No  cross  without,  no  God  within. 
 Death,  judgment  from  the  heart  are  driven 
 Amidst  the  world's  false  glare  and  din. 
 Oh  happy  he,  with  all  his  loss. 
 Whom  God  hath  set  beneath  the  cross! 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  better  Christian, — 
 
 This  is  the  touchstone  God  applies ; 
 How  many  a  garden  wcmld  lie  wasting, 
 Unwet  by  showers  from  weeping  eyes ! 
 The  gold  by  fire  is  purified ; 
 The  Christian  is  by  trouble  tried. 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  stronger  faith  ; 
 
 The  loaded  palm  strikes  deeper  root ; 
 The  vine  juice  sweetly  issueth 
 
 When  men  have  pressed  the  clustered 
 fruit ; 
 And    courage   grows   where   dangers 
 
 come. 
 Like  pearls  beneath  the  salt  sea  foam. 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  heartier  prayer ; 
 The  bruised  herbs  most  fragrant  are. 
 If  wind  and  sky  were  always  fair. 
 The  sailor  would  not  watch  the  star; 
 And  David's  Psalms  had   ne'er  been 
 
 sung. 
 If  grief  his  heart  had  never  wrung 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  more  aspiring ; 
 
 From  vales  we  climb  to  mountain  crest ; 
 The  pilgrim,  of  the  desert  tiring, 
 Longs  for  the  Canaan  of  his  rest. 
 The  dove  has  here  no  rest  in  sight. 
 And  to  the  ark  she  wings  her  flight. 
 
 The  heavier  cross,  the  easier  dying, 
 Death  is  a  friendlier  face  to  see ; 
 To  life's  decay  one  bids  defying. — 
 From  life's  distress,  one  then  is  free. 
 The  cross  sublimely  lifts  her  faith 
 To  Him  who  triumphed  over  death. 
 
 Thou  Crucified  !  the  cross  I  carry — 
 
 The  longer  may  it  dearer  be ; 
 And,  lest  i  faint  whilst  here  I  tarry, 
 Implant  thou  such  a  heart  in  me 
 
 That   faith,   hope,   love    may   flourish 
 
 there. 
 Till  for  my  cross  the  crown  I  wear ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 CROSS— Beauty  of  the. 
 
 The  Cross  of  Christ  is  more  beautiful  in 
 a  Christian's  eye  than  the  crown  of  Cajsar, 
 and  the   duty   enjoined   by   the    one   far 
 
 more  momentous  than  any  command  that 
 can  be  issued,  even  when  accompanied 
 with  the  authority  and  impress  of  the 
 other.  Dr.    Cumminj. 
 
 CROSS— Before  the. 
 
 Sweet  the  moments,  rich  in  blessing. 
 
 Which  before  the  cross  I  spend ; 
 
 Life  and  health  and  peace  possessing, 
 
 From  the  sinner's  dying  Friend. 
 
 Here  I'll  sit,  with  transport  viewing 
 Mercy's  streams,  in  streams  of  blood ; 
 
 Precious  drops,  my  soul  bedewing. 
 Plead  and  claim  my  peace  with  God. 
 
 Truly  blessed  is  the  station. 
 Low  before  His  cross  to  lie ; 
 
 While  I  see  divine  compassion 
 Floating  in  His  languid  eye. 
 
 Here  it  is  I  find  my  heaven. 
 While  upon  the  Lamb  I  gaze : 
 
 Love  I  much  ?   I've  much  forgiven ; 
 I'm  a  miracle  of  grace. 
 
 Love  and  grief  my  heart  dividing. 
 With  my  tears  His  feet  I'll  bathe; 
 
 Constant  still  in  faith  abiding. 
 Life  deriving  from  His  death. 
 
 May  I  still  enjoy  this  feeling; 
 
 In  all  need  to  Jesus  go ; 
 Prove  His  wounds  each  day  more  henling. 
 
 And  himself  more  fully  know.    Batty. 
 
 CROSS— Blessings  of  the. 
 
 The  Cross  !  it  takes  our  guilt  away; 
 
 It  holds  the  fainting  spirit  up; 
 It  cheers  with  hope  the  gloomy  day. 
 
 And  sweetens  every  bitter  cup ; 
 It  makes  the  coward  spirit  brave. 
 
 And  nerves  the  feeble  arm  for  fight; 
 It  takes  the  terror  from  the  grave. 
 
 And  gilds  the  bed  of  death  with  light. 
 The  balm  of  life,  the  cure  of  woe. 
 
 The  measure  and  the  pledge  of  love. 
 The  sinner's  refuge  here  below. 
 
 The  angel's  theme  in  heaven  above. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 CROSS— Burden  of  the. 
 
 Christ's  cross  is  the  sweetest  burden 
 that  ever  I  bore;  it  is  such  a  burden  as 
 wings  are  to  a  bird,  or  sails  to  a  ship,  to 
 carry  me  forward  to  my  harbour. 
 
 S.  Rutherford. 
 
 CROSS— Glory  of  the. 
 
 The  Cross  of  Christ  is  an  object  of  such 
 incomparable  brightness,  that  it  spreads  a 
 glory  round  it  to  all  the  nations  of  the 
 earth,  all  the  corners  of  the  universe,  all 
 the  generations  of  time,  and  all  the  ages  of 
 (■ternity.  The  greatest  actions  or  events 
 that  ever  happened  on  earth,  filled  with 
 their  splendour  and  influence  but  a  moment 
 of  time,  and  a  point  of  space :  the  splendour 
 
214 
 
 CROSS. 
 
 of  tins  great  object  fills  immensity,  and 
 eternity.  If  we  take  a  right  view  of  its 
 glory,  we  shall  see  it  contemplated  with 
 attention,  spreading  influence  and  attract- 
 ing looks  from  times  past,  present,  and  to 
 come;  heaven,  earth,  and  hell,  angels, 
 saints,  devils.  We  shall  see  it  to  be  both 
 the  object  of  the  deepest  admii-ation  of  the 
 creatures,  and  the  perfect  approbation  of 
 the  infinite  Creator;  we  shall  see  the  best 
 part  of  mankind,  the  church  of  God,  for 
 four  thousand  years  looking  forward  to  it 
 before  it  happened ;  new  generations  yet 
 unburn  rising  up  to  admire  and  honour  it 
 in  continual  successions,  till  time  shall  be 
 no  more  ;  innumerable  multitudes  of  angels 
 and  saints  looking  back  to  it  with  holy 
 transports,  to  the  remotest  ages  of  eternity. 
 Other  glories  decay  by  length  of  time :  if 
 the  splendour  of  this  object  change,  it  will 
 be  only  by  increasing.  The  visible  sun 
 will  spend  his  beams  in  process  of  time, 
 and  as  it  wei'e  grow  dim  with  age :  this 
 object  hath  a  rich  stock  of  beams  which 
 eternity  cannot  exhaust.  If  saints  and 
 angels  grow  in  knowledge,  the  splendour 
 of  this  object  will  be  still  increasing :  'tis 
 unbelief  that  intercepts  its  beams;  unbe- 
 lief takes  place  only  on  earth,  there  is  no 
 such  thing  in  heaven  or  in  hell.  It  will 
 be  a  great  part  of  future  blessedness,  to 
 remember  the  object  that  purchased  it; 
 and  of  future  punishment,  to  remember 
 the  object  that  ofi'ered  deliverance  from  it; 
 it  will  add  life  to  the  beams  of  love  in 
 heaven,  and  make  the  flames  of  hell  burn 
 fiercer ;  its  beams  will  not  only  adorn  the 
 regions  of  light,  but  pierce  the  regions  of 
 darkness ;  it  will  be  the  desire  of  the  saints 
 in  light,  and  the  great  eyesore  of  the 
 prince  of  darkness  and  his  subjects. 
 
 «7.  Maclaurin. 
 CEOSS — Languages  on  the. 
 
 The  three  tongues  that  were  written 
 uptm  the  cross — Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew, 
 — to  witness  Christ  to  be  the  king  of  the 
 Jews,  do  each  of  them  in  their  several 
 idioms  avouch  this  singular  axiom,  that 
 Christ  is  an  all-sufficient  Saviour;  and  a 
 threefold  cord  is  not  easily  broken. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 CROSS— Love  of  God  in  the. 
 
 The  light  of  the  sun  is  always  the  same, 
 but  it  shines  brightest  to  us  at  noon ;  the 
 Cross  of  Christ  was  the  noontide  of  ever- 
 lasting love — the  meridian  splendour  of 
 eternal  mercy.  J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 CEOSS— Preaching  the. 
 
 The  Cross  is  the  strength  of  a  minister. 
 
 for  one,  would  not  be  without  it  for  the 
 world.  I  should  feel  like  a  soldier  with- 
 out arms,  like  an  artist  without  his  pencil, 
 like  a  pilot  without  his  compass,  like  a 
 lab-jurer  without  his  tools.     Let  others,  if 
 
 they  will,  preach  the  law  and  morality. 
 Let  others  hold  forth  the  terrors  of  hell 
 and  the  joys  of  heaven.  Let  others  drench 
 their  congregations  with  teachings  about 
 the  sacraments  and  the  Church.  Give  me 
 the  Cross  of  Christ.  This  is  the  only  lever 
 which  has  ever  turned  the  world  upside 
 down  hitherto,  and  made  men  forsake 
 their  sins.  And  if  this  will  not,  nothing 
 will.  A  man  may  begin  preaching  with  a 
 perfect  knowledge  of  Latin,  Greek,  and 
 Hebrew.  But  he  will  do  little  or  no  good 
 among  his  hearers  unless  he  knows  some- 
 thing of  the  Cross.  Never  was  there  a 
 minister  who  did  much  for  the  conversion 
 of  souls  who  did  not  dwell  much  on  Christ 
 crucified.  Luther,  Rutherford,  Whitfield, 
 M'Cheyne,  were  all  most  eminent  preachers 
 of  the  Cross.  This  is  the  preaching  that 
 the  Holy  Ghost  delights  to  bless.  He 
 loves  to  honour  those  who  honour  the 
 Cross.  Eyle. 
 
 CROSS— Significance  of  the. 
 
 In  the  type  of  the  brazen  serpent,  as 
 well  as  in  the  Divine  ordinances  respecting 
 One  that  was  hanged  on  a  tree,  the  clearest 
 light  is  thrown  on  the  horrible  cross  which 
 the  Son  of  God  is  carrying  to  Calvary. 
 Those  beams  evidently  form  the  stake 
 upon  which,  according  to  the  promise,  the 
 storm  of  Divine  judgment  should  be  dis- 
 charged. It  is  the  scatibld  where,  accord- 
 ing to  Rom.  iii,  25,  God  resolved  to  declare 
 His  righteousness  for  the  remission  of  sins 
 that  are  past,  through  the  forbearance  of 
 God.  The  Moriah  where,  for  the  benefit 
 of  a  sinful  world,  the  curse  pronounced  in 
 Paradise  is  endured  in  the  sacred  humanity 
 of  the  great  Surety.  The  altar  of  burnt 
 offering,  on  which  the  Lamb  of  God  sub- 
 mitted to  the  sum  total  of  that  punishment 
 which  ought  in  justice  to  have  fallen  upon 
 me ;  and  the  dying  bed,  where  death,  over 
 which  Satan  has  jjower,  and  to  which  I 
 was  subject  by  a  sentence  of  the  Supreme 
 tribunal,  is  permitted  to  seize  upon  and 
 slay  another,  in  order  that  he  might  for 
 ever  lose  his  claim  upon  me.  Sucli  is  the 
 mysterious  cross  whicli  you  see  borne 
 toward  Calvary.  It  is  the  sepulchre  of  a 
 world :  for  the  innumerable  host  of  those 
 that  are  saved,  died,  in  the  eye  of  God, 
 with  Christ  upon  it.  It  is  the  conductor 
 which  carries  oft'  the  destroying  flash  from 
 our  race,  by  His  attracting  it  upon  Him- 
 self; tlie  tree  of  life,  the  leaves  of  which 
 are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 
 
 Krummacher. 
 
 CROSS— Use  of  the. 
 
 Louis  XII,  King  of  France,  had  many 
 enemies  before  he  succeeded  to  the  throne. 
 When  he  became  king  he  caused  a  list  to 
 be  made  of  his  persecutors,  and  marked 
 against  each  of  their  names  a  large  black 
 
CR03S-CK0SEES. 
 
 215 
 
 cross.  When  this  became  known,  the 
 enemies  of  the  king  lied,  because  they 
 tliougiit  it  was  a  sign  that  he  intended  to 
 punish  them.  But  tlie  king,  hearing  of 
 tlieir  fears,  made  them  be  recalled,  with 
 an  assurance  of  pardon,  and  said  that  he 
 had  put  a  cross  beside  each  name  to  re- 
 mind him  of  the  Cross  of  Christ,  that  he 
 niiglit  endeavour  to  follow  the  example  of 
 Him  who  had  prayed  for  His  murderers, 
 and  had  exchaimed,  "  Father,  forgive  them, 
 for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 
 
 God  "places  the  Cross  by  the  side  or  upon 
 the  offences  of  the  bel'eving  penitent,  and 
 forgives  him. 
 
 Every  Christian  shonkl  use  the  cross  as 
 a  reason  for  pardoning  his  brother  who  has 
 oifended  him.  John  Bate. 
 
 CROSS— Wood  of  the. 
 
 The  cross  was  generally  supposed  to 
 have  been  made  of  four  kinds  of  wood, 
 signifying  the  four  quarters  nf  the  globe, 
 or  ail  mankind ;  it  is  not,  however,  agreed 
 what  those  four  kinds  were,  or  their  re- 
 spective places  in  the  cross.  Some  say  the 
 fo\ir  incorruptible  woods  were  the  palm, 
 the  cedar,  the  olive,  and  the  cypress; 
 hence  the  line, 
 
 "Ligna  crucis   palma,    cedrus,    cupressus, 
 
 oliva." 
 Instead  of  the  palm  and  the  olive,  some 
 claim  the  honour  for  the  pine  and  the 
 box  ;  whilst  others  say  it  was  made  entirely 
 of  oak.  (See  Barradius,  j» /ot'O  ;  Southey's 
 '  Commonplace  Book,'  second  series,  p.  382  ; 
 and  his  '  Omniana,'  "  The  Tree  of  Life," 
 p.  276.)  In  Curzon's  '  Monasteries  of  tlie 
 Levant,'  we  are  told  that  the  cedar  was 
 cut  down  by  Solomon,  and  buried  on  the 
 spot  afterwards  called  the  pool  of  Bethesda; 
 that  about  the  time  of  the  passion  of  our 
 Blessed  Lord,  the  wood  floated,  and  was 
 used  by  the  Jews  for  the  upright  parts  of 
 the  cross. 
 
 Amongst  the  titles  of  honour  given  to 
 the  Blessed  Virgin  in  the  "  Ballad  in  com- 
 jnendation  of  our  Lady,"  in  the  old  editions 
 of  Chaucer  we  find — 
 
 "  Benigne  braunchlet  of  the  fine  tree." 
 
 Another  account  states  the  wood  to  have 
 been  the  aspen,  since  which  its  leaves  have 
 never  ceased  trembling. 
 
 It  was  once  believed  in  Scotland  that 
 the  dwarf  birch  is  stunted  in  growth  be- 
 cause the  rods  were  formed  of  it  with 
 which  Christ  was  scourged.  Timbs. 
 
 CROSSES— Benefit  of. 
 
 Crosses  are  the  only  medicines  of  sick 
 minds.  Thy  sound  body  carries  within  it 
 a  sick  soul ;  thou  feelest  it  not  perhaps ;  so 
 much  more  art  thou  sick,  and  so  much 
 more  dangerously.     Perhaps  thou  labourest 
 
 of  some  plethora  of  pride,  or  of  some  dropsy 
 of  covetousness,  or  the  staggers  of  incon- 
 stancy, or  of  some  fever  of  luxury,  or 
 consumption  of  envy,  or  perhaps  of  the 
 lethargy  of  idleness,  or  of  the  phrensy  of 
 anger.  It  is  a  rare  soul  that  hath  not  some 
 notable  disease.  Only  crosses  are  thy  re- 
 medies. What  if  they  are  unpleasant? 
 they  are  physic;  it  is  enough  if  they  be 
 wholesome.  Not  pleasant  taste,  but  the 
 secret  virtue  commends  medicines.  If  they 
 cure  thee,  they  shall  please  thee,  even  in 
 displeasing;  or  else  thou  lovest  thy  palate 
 above  thy  soul.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 CROSSES— in  every  House. 
 
 A  widow  lady  was  almost  in  despair  from 
 the  variety  of  hindi-ances,  relaxation,  and 
 disappointments  she  had  to  endure.  She 
 was  quite  overwhelmed  with  her  domestic 
 crosses,  and  had  scarcely  the  heart  to  go 
 on  with  her  daily  conflicts.  "  No  other 
 roof,"  she  complained,  "  is  so  constantly 
 beset  with  misery  as  mine."  She  had  no 
 idea  that  any  neighbour  of  hers  was  half  so 
 crossed  as  herself,  judging,  as  she  did, 
 from  outward  appearan(!es.  But  it  pleased 
 God  to  teach  her  a  lesson  through  the 
 instrumentality  of  a  dream,  which  was  the 
 wholesomest  medicine  of  which  she  could 
 have  partaken.  One  n'ght  she  dreamed 
 that  a  whole  town  stood  before  her,  and 
 every  house  in  it  bore  a  crrtss  against  its 
 door ;  on  one  it  was  a  very  large  one,  on  the 
 next  it  was  of  less  size,  and  on  others, 
 though  they  were  very  few,  it  was  but  a 
 small  one.  Among  all  the  crosses,  however, 
 none  appeared  to  her  so  inconsiderable  and 
 light  to  carry  as  that  at  her  own  door. 
 She  awoke  a  new  creature.  What  she  had 
 seen  she  understood  ;  and  she  recollected 
 Christ's  saying,  "  If  any  man  will  come 
 after  me  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up 
 his  cross,  and  follow  me."  She  fell  down 
 upon  her  knees  at  once,  and  prayed  God  to 
 pardon  her  for  her  complaining,  murmur- 
 ing, and  repining  spirit,  and  besought  Him 
 to  release  her  from  it,  and  fill  her  with  a 
 spirit  of  patience,  submissiveness,  and  con- 
 tent with  His  orderings.  And  she  implored 
 Him  also  to  endow  her  with  His  strength- 
 ening grace  to  bear  her  cross,  which  tiom 
 that  hour  forward  she  found  to  be  light, 
 as  compared  with  the  cross  her  own  weak- 
 ness had  given  her  to  bear.  "  Yes,"  she  ex- 
 claimed, " '  I  can  do  all  things  through 
 Christ  which  strengtheneth  me,'  for  His 
 '  yoke  is  easy,  and  His  burden  is  light  !'  " 
 Anon. 
 
 CROSSES— Necessary. 
 
 If  loving  hearts  were  never  lonely, 
 If  all  they  wished  might  always  be. 
 
 Accepting  what  they  looked  for  onlv. 
 They  might  be  glad,  but  not  in  Thee. 
 
21 G 
 
 CRUCIFIXION— CRUELTY. 
 
 We  need  as  mueli  the  cross  we  bear, 
 As  air  we  breathe,  as  light  we  see; 
 
 It  draws  us  to  Thy  side  in  prayer, 
 It  binds  us  to  our  strength  in  Thee. 
 
 Anoti. 
 
 CRUCinXION— The. 
 1  ask'd  the  heavens—"  What  foe  to  God 
 hath  done 
 This  unexampled  deed  ?  "     The  heavens 
 exchiim 
 "  'Twas  man ;  and  we  in  horror  snatch'd 
 the  sun 
 From    such    a    spectacle  of  guilt  and 
 shame." 
 I  asked  the  sea — the  sea  in  fury  boil'd, 
 And  answered  with  his  voice  of  storms — 
 "  'Twas  man — 
 My  waves  in  panic  at  his  crime  recoil'd, 
 Disclosed  the  abyss,  and  Irom  the  centre 
 ran." 
 I  ask'd  the  earth — the  earth  replied  aghast, 
 "'Twas  man— and  such  strange  pangs 
 my  bosom  rent, 
 That  still   I    groan  and  shudder  at   the 
 past." 
 — To  man,  gay,  smiling,  thoughtless  man 
 I  went. 
 And  asked  him  next;— ile  turned  a  scornful 
 
 eye, 
 
 Shook  his  proud  head,  and  dei<2;ned  me  no 
 reply.  J-  Mont^omeiy. 
 
 CRUCIFIXICII— Sufferings  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  devices  of  cruel  imaginations, 
 crucifixion  is  tiie  masterpiece.  Other  pains 
 are  sharper  for  a  time,  but  none  are  at  once 
 so  agonising  and  so  long.  One  aggravation, 
 however,  waswanting,  which,  owing  to  the 
 want  of  knowledge  in  painters,  is  still,  we 
 believe,  commonly  supposed  to  have  be- 
 longed to  the  punishment.  The  weight 
 of  the  body  was  borne  by  a  ledge  which 
 projected  from  the  middle  of  the  upright 
 beam,  and  not  by  the  liands  and  leut, 
 which  were  probably  found  unequal  to  the 
 strain.  The  frailty  of  man's  frame  comes 
 at  last  to  be  its  own  defence ;  but  enough 
 remained  to  preserve  the  pre-eminence  of 
 torture  to  the  cross.  The  proct'ss  of  nailing 
 was  exquisite  torment,  and  yet  worse  in 
 what  ensued  than  in  the  actual  infliction. 
 The  spikes  wrankled,  the  wounds  inflamed, 
 the  local  injury  produced  a  general  fever, 
 the  fever  a  most  intolerable  thirst ;  but 
 the  misery  of  miseries  to  the  sufferer  was, 
 while  racked  with  agony,  to  be  fastened  in 
 a  position  which  did  not  permit  him  even 
 to  writhe.  P>ery  attempt  to  relieve  the 
 muscles,  every  instmctive  movement  of 
 anguish,  only  served  to  drag  the  lacerated 
 flesh  and  wake  up  new  and  acuter  pangs, 
 and  this  torture,  which  must  have  been 
 continually  aggravated  until  advancing 
 death  began  to  lay  it  to  sleep,  lasted  on  an 
 average  two  or  three   days.     With   these 
 
 harrowing  details  in  the  mind's  eye,a  paint- 
 ing of  the  crucifixion  is  sometimes  viewed 
 as  a  representation  of  physical  suffering ; 
 but  the  Christian  regards  it  as  "  the  uni- 
 versal frame  of  nature  giving  testimony  to 
 Christ's  divinity."  Timbs. 
 
 CRUELTY— to  Animals. 
 
 Cruelty  to  dumb  animals  is  one  of  the 
 distinguishing  vices  of  the  lowest  and 
 basest  of  the  people.  Wherever  it  is  found 
 it  is  a  certain  m;irk  of  ignorance  and 
 meanness  ;  an  intrinsic  mark,  which  all  the 
 external  advantages  of  wealth,  splendour 
 and  nobility  cannot  obliterate.  Jones. 
 
 I  would  not  enter  on  my  list  of  friends 
 (Though   graced    with    polished    manners 
 
 and  fine  sense. 
 Yet  wanting  sensibility)  the  man 
 Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a  worm. 
 
 CRUELTY— Horrible. 
 
 When  the  cruel  f  dl  into  the  hands  of 
 the  cruel,  we  read  their  fate  with  horror, 
 not  with  pity.  Sylla  commanded  tl)e 
 bones  of  Marius  to  be  broken,  his  eyes  to 
 be  pulled  oixt,  his  hands  to  be  cut  off,  and 
 his  body  to  be  torn  in  pieces  with  pincers, 
 and  Catiline  was  the  executioner.  "  A 
 piece  of  cruelty,"  saj's  Seneca,  "  only  fit 
 for  Marius  to  sufler,  Catiline  to  execute, 
 and  Sylla  to  command."  C.  CoUoa, 
 
 CRUELTY— Religious. 
 
 In  1534,  Francis  I,  ordered  an  inquisition 
 to  be  made  at  Paris  against  the  Protestants ; 
 some  of  whom  were  discovered  by  inform- 
 ers, others  apprehended  on  suspicion,  and 
 put  to  the  torture,  and  both  sorts  burned, 
 after  a  very  barbarous  manner  ;  for,  being 
 tied  to  a  pulley,  they  were  drawn  up  a 
 great  height,  then  let  down  into  the  fire, 
 presently  after  snatched  up  again ;  and, 
 after  torturing  them  in  this  manner  for 
 some  time,  the  executioner  cut  the  rope, 
 and  they  dropi)ed  into  the  flames,  and  were 
 consumed.  Those  who  were  thought  to  be 
 more  learned  than  the  rest,  had  their 
 tongues  cut  out,  and  were  then  brought  to 
 the  stake  and  burnt. 
 
 In  England,  likewise,  the  Protestants 
 have  had  a  share  in  the  cruelties  practiced 
 by  the  Romish  clergy  and  church.  For 
 upon  Queen  Mary's  coming  to  the  crown, 
 all  the  sanguinary  penal  laws  were  revived  ; 
 and  in  the  space  of  five  years  and  four 
 months,  vvliich  that  bloody  woman  reigned, 
 there  were  burnt  and  roasted,  for  their 
 religion,  five  bishops,  twenty-one  divines, 
 eight  gentlemen,  eighty-iour  artificers,  one 
 hundred  husbandmen,  servants,  and  labour- 
 ers, twenty-six  wives,  twenty  widows,  nine 
 
CUEIOSITY— CUSTOM. 
 
 217 
 
 virprins,  t^o  Tioys  find  two  infants ;  sixteen 
 perished  in  gaols,  and  twelve  were  buried 
 in  dunghills.  Others  affirm,  that  in  the 
 first  two  years  of  the  persecution,  in  1555, 
 eight  hundred  were  put  to  death.  Had 
 Mary  lived,  the  s.ime  barbarous  tragedy 
 would  have  been  acted  in  Ireland. 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 CUEIOSIT?— in  Childhood. 
 
 Curiosity  is  a  remarkable  and  interesting 
 trait  of  childhood,  and,  though  possessed  in 
 various  degrees  of  activity,  is  common  to 
 all  children.  It  is  first  manifested  in  the 
 infant's  stare  at  the  lighted  candle;  it  is 
 aitervvards  displayed  in  the  eagerness  with 
 which  he  asks  various  puzzling  questions. 
 The  poet  has  beautifully  described  the  first 
 unfolding  of  this  principle. 
 
 " See  its  power  expand 
 
 When   first   the   coral    fills    the    infant's 
 
 hand. 
 Throned  in  its  mother's  lap,  it  dries  each 
 
 tear. 
 As  her  sweet  legend  falls  upon  the  ear ; 
 Next   it  assails  him  in  his  top's    strange 
 
 hum, 
 Brciithes  in   his    whistle,    echoes   in     his 
 
 drum. 
 •Each  gilded  toy  that  doting  love  bestows 
 He  longs  to  break,  and  every  spring  ex- 
 pose. 
 Placed  by  your  hearth,  with  what  delight 
 
 he  pores 
 O'er  the    bright  pages    of   the    pictured 
 
 stores ; 
 How  oft  he  steals  upon  your  graver  task. 
 Of  this  to  tell  you,  and  of  that  to  ask. 
 And  when  the  warning  hour  to  bedward 
 
 bids. 
 Though  gentle  sleep  sits  waiting   on  his 
 
 lids, 
 11  ow  winningly  he  pleads  to  gain  you  o'er, 
 That  he  may  read  one  little  story  more. 
 
 "  Nor  yet  alone  to  toys  and  tales  confined. 
 It    sits    dark-brooding     o'er    his    embryo 
 
 mind. 
 Take  him  between  your  knees,  peruse  his 
 
 face, 
 While  all  you  know,  or  think  you  know, 
 
 you  trace  ; 
 Tell  him  who  spoke  creation  into  birth, 
 'Arched  the  broad  heavens  and  spread  the 
 
 rolling  earth; 
 Who  formed  a  pathway  for  the  obedient 
 
 sun. 
 And  bade  the  seasons  in  their  circles  run  ; 
 Who  filled   the   air,   the   forest    and   the 
 
 fiood. 
 And  gave  man  all  for  comfort  or  for  food ; 
 Tell    him    he    sprang   at  God's   creating 
 
 nod — 
 He   stops  you    short  with,  '  Father,  who 
 
 made  God  ?'  "  S.  G,  Goodrich. 
 
 CURIOSITY— Dangers  of. 
 
 Cariosity  is  a  kernel  of  the  forbidden 
 fruit,  which  still  sticketh  in  the  throat  of 
 a  natural  man,  sometimes  to  the  danger 
 of  his  choking.  T.  Fuller. 
 
 A  person  who  is  too  nice  an  observer  of 
 
 the  business  of  the  crowd,  like  one  who  is 
 
 too  curious  in  observing  the  labour  of  the 
 
 bees,  will  often  be  stung  for  his  cui-iosity. 
 
 Fope. 
 
 Be  not  curious  to  search  into  the  secrets 
 of  God ;  pick  not  the  lock  where  He  hath 
 allowed  no  key.  He  that  will  be  sifting 
 every  cloud,  may  be  smitten  with  a  thun- 
 derbolt; and  he  that  will  be  too  familiar 
 with  God's  secrets,  may  be  overwhelmed 
 in  His  judgments.  Adam  would  curiously 
 increase  his  knowledge  ;  therefore  Adam 
 shamefully  lost  his  goodness ;  the  Beth- 
 sbeniites  would  needs  pry  into  the  ark  of 
 God,  therefore  the  hand  of  God  slew  about 
 fifty  thousand  of  them.  Therefore  hover 
 not  about  this  flame,  lest  we  scorch  our 
 wings.  For  my  part,  seeing  God  hath 
 made  me  His  secretary,  I  will  carefully 
 improve  myself  by  what  He  has  revealed, 
 and  not  curiously  inquire  into,  or  after, 
 what  He  hath  reserved.  Anon. 
 
 CURIOSITY— Vain. 
 
 Curious  questions  and  vain  speculations 
 are  like  a  plume  of  featb-rs,  which  some 
 will  give  anything  for,  and  some  will  give 
 nothing  for.  Paul  rebuked  them  which 
 troubled  their  heads  about  genealogies; 
 how  would  he  rejjrove  men  and  women  of 
 our  days,  if  he  did  see  how  they  busy  their 
 heads  about  vain  questions,  tracing  upon 
 the  pinnacles  where  they  may  fall,  whilst 
 they  might  walk  upon  the  pavement  with- 
 out danger  ?  Some  have  a  great  deal  more 
 desire  to  leai-n  where  hell  is.  than  to  know 
 any  way  how  they  may  escnpe  it ;  to  he.ir 
 what  God  did  purpose  before  the  world 
 began,  rather  than  to  learn  what  He  will 
 do  when  the  world  is  ended;  to  under- 
 stand whether  they  shall  know  one  another 
 in  heaven,  than  to  know  whether  they  be- 
 long to  heaven  :  this  rock  hath  made  many 
 shipwrecks,  that  men  search  mysteries  be- 
 fore they  know  principles ;  like  the  Beth- 
 shemites,  which  were  not  content  to  see 
 the  ark,  but  they  must  pry  into  it,  and 
 finger  it.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 CUSTOM— Power  of. 
 
 Custom  does  often  reason  overrule. 
 And  only  serves  for  reason  to  the  fool. 
 
 Rochester, 
 
 Custom  forms  us  all ; 
 Our  thoughts,  our  morals,  our  most  fix'd 
 
 belief 
 Are  consequences  of  our  place  of  birth. 
 
 A.  Hall. 
 
CUSTOM— DAKCIITG. 
 
 CUSTOM -Power  of. 
 Custom,  'tis  true,  a  venerable  tyrant, 
 O'er  servile  mau  exttiuds  her  blind  domi- 
 nion. J.  Thomson. 
 
 As  custom  arbitrntes,  whose  shifting  sway 
 Our  life  and  manners  must  alike  obey- 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 CUSTOM  IN  SIN. 
 
 Custom  and  frequency  in  sin  breeds  a 
 familiarity  with  it  that  produces  an  ail'ec- 
 tion  to  it,  and  ends  in  a  resolved  continu- 
 ance in  it.  And  as  it  is  said  by  the  apostle 
 upon  another  occasion,  "  that  perfect  love 
 casts  out  fear ; "  so  where  custom  has  fast- 
 ened a  man's  love  upon  sin,  the  awe  and 
 the  dread  of  it  vanishes;  and  the  sinner 
 can  break  a  precept  under  the  very  eye  of 
 sin-revenging  justice  without  trembling ; 
 without  feeling  any  inward  wound  or  blow 
 U])on  his  heart :  which  is  a  frame  of  spirit, 
 leaving  a  man  not  far  from  a  reprobate 
 mind  and  a  seared  conscience.     Dr.  South. 
 
 CYNIC— Description  of  the. 
 
 Thy  cynic  is  one  who  never  sees  a  good 
 quality  in  a  man,  and  never  fails  to  see  a 
 bad  one.  He  is  the  human  owl,  vigilant  in 
 darkness  and  bUnd  to  light,  mousing  for 
 vermin,  and  never  seeing  noble  game.  The 
 cynic  puts  all  human  actions  into  two 
 classes — openly  bad,  and  secretly  bad.  All 
 virtue,  and  generosity,  and  disinterested- 
 ness are  merely  the  ajjpearance  of  good, 
 but  selfish  at  the  bottom.  He  holds  that 
 no  man  does  a  good  thing  except  for  profit. 
 The  effect  of  his  conversation  upon  your 
 feelings  is  to  chill  and  sear  them ;  to  send 
 you  away  sour  and  morose.  His  criticisms 
 and  inuendoes  fall  indiscriminately  upon 
 every  lovely  thing,  like  frost  upon  flowers. 
 If  a  man  is  said  to  be  pure  and  chaste,  he 
 will  answer :  Yes,  in  the  day-time.  If  a 
 woman  is  pronounced  virtuous,  he  will 
 reply  :  Yes,  as  yet.  Mr.  A —  is  a  religious 
 man:  Yes,  on  Sundays.  Mr.  B —  has  just 
 joined  the  church  :  Certainly ;  the  elections 
 are  coining  on.  The  minister  of  the  gospel 
 is  called  an  example  of  diligence :  It  is  his 
 trade.  Such  a  man  is  generous  :  Of  other 
 men's  money.  This  man  is  obliging  :  To 
 lull  suspicion  and  cheat  you.  This  man  is 
 upright:  Because  he  is  green.  Thus  his 
 eye  strains  out  every  good  quality,  and 
 takes  in  only  bad.  To  him  religion  is 
 hypocrisy,  honesty  a  preparation  for  fraud, 
 virtue  (mly  want  of  opportunity,  and  un- 
 deniable purity,  asceticism.  The  livelong 
 day  he  will  coolly  sit  with  sneering  lip, 
 uttering  sharp  speeclies  in  the  quietest 
 manner,  and  in  polished  phrase,  transfix- 
 ing every  character  which  is  presented : 
 Mis  words  are  softer  than  oil,  yet  are  they 
 drawn  swords.  S.  IF.  Beecher, 
 
 D. 
 
 DANCING— Folly  of. 
 
 Well  was  it  said  by  a  man  of  sagacity, 
 that  dancing  was  a  sort  of  privileged  and 
 reputable  folly,  and  that  the  best  way  to 
 be  convinced  of  this,  was  to  close  the  ears, 
 and  judge  of  it  by  the  eyes  alone. 
 
 Gotthold. 
 
 DANCING— Right  Kind  of. 
 
 Calling  at  the  house  of  an  old  friend  a 
 few  days  since,  we  fell  into  conversation 
 about  his  little  daughter,  when  the  follow- 
 ing dialogue,  "  for  substance  of  doctrine," 
 took  place : 
 
 "  Have  you  any  little  girls  ?" 
 
 "  Yes,  one  nine  years  old." 
 
 "  Does  she  dantie  ?" 
 
 "  Yes,  certainly.  From  my  window  I 
 see  her  dancing  every  day,  up  and  down 
 the  yard,  and  out  into  the  street." 
 
 "  Does  she  take  the  step  ?" 
 
 "  I  guess  you  would  think  so  if  you  saw 
 her.  She  steps  up  and  down,  and  round 
 and  across.  All  sorts  of  steps — more  in 
 one  hour  than  you  can  count  ?" 
 
 "  Does  she  have  a  teacher  ?" 
 
 "  0  !  yes ;  her  mother  teaches  her  in 
 this  way :  She  gives  her  a  lesson  on  some 
 sewing,  and  when  her  task  is  finished,  the 
 little  girl  feels  all  over  as  if  it  was  time  to 
 dance;  and  so,  putting  on  her  sack  and 
 boots,  she  sallies  forth.  There  is  a  flock 
 of  kind  and  happy  children  at  the  next 
 door,  and  they  come  out  and  join  her, 
 and  the  dance  begins.  It  is  a  beautiful 
 sight." 
 
 "  What  do  they  dance  ?" 
 
 "Country  dances — that  is,  dances  made 
 in  the  country.  Now  and  then,  Cato,  the 
 dog,  from  over  the  way,  springs  in  among 
 them,  and  proposes  a  polka.  Dogs  always 
 like  polkas.  They  are  not  to  blame  '  for 
 God  has  made  them  so.'  " 
 
 "  Do  they  have  any  music  ?" 
 
 "  Certainly  they  do,  the  best  I  ever 
 heard.  It  comes  right  up  from  their  glad 
 hearts.  In  cold  weather  they  furnish  it 
 all.  But  in  a  few  weeks,  when  the  maple 
 is  casting  its  blossoms,  and  the  green  grass 
 is  coming  up  out  of  the  ground,  and  the . 
 south windis  waking  theearth  from  itssleep, 
 their  orchestra  will  be  greatly  enlarged. 
 They  will  be  joined  by  the  oriole  with  his 
 silver  trumpet,  and  the  thrush,  and  the  robin, 
 and  the  blue-bird,  who,  makingthcir  nests  in 
 the  elms  above,  will  pour  down  their  music 
 upon  the  performers  below.  With  such 
 music,  and  a  ball-room  so  beautiful,  what 
 little  girl  could  keep  from  dancing? 
 Oughtn't  we  to  pity  poor  children  who 
 have  to  dance  in  the  cellars  and  alleys  of 
 the   town,  and  those,  big  and  little,  who 
 
DANCING— DAY  OF  LIFE. 
 
 219 
 
 are  crowded  into  great,  hot,  and  dusty 
 rooms,  without  any  grass,  flowers,  and 
 trees,  and  who  are  obliged  to  hop  round  at 
 the  music  of  fiddles  and  horns,  instead  of 
 the  sweet  melody  of  the  birds  ?" 
 
 "  Does  it  ever  make  your  girl  sick  to 
 dan(!e  ?" 
 
 "Not  by  a  great  deal.  When,  just  at 
 evening,  she  goes  out  to  dance  for  an  hour, 
 she  returns  with  a  face  flushed  with  health 
 — she  is  hungry  for  the  supper ;  and  when 
 she  lies  down  for  the  night,  she  falls  quickly 
 asleep,  to  dream  of  music  and  dancing,  and 
 all  that  is  beautiful  in  sight  or  sound." 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 
 DANCING— Warning  in. 
 
 Where  wildness  and  disorder  are  visible 
 in  the  dance,  there  Satan,  death,  and  all 
 kinds  of  mischief  are  likewise  upon  the 
 floor.  For  this  reason  I  could  wisli  that 
 the  dance  of  death  were  painted  on  the 
 walls  of  all  ball  rooms,  in  order  to  warn 
 the  dancers  not,  by  the  levity  of  their  de- 
 portment, to  provoke  the  God  of  righteous- 
 ness to  visit  them  with  a  sudden  judgment. 
 Qotthold. 
 
 DARKNESS— Emblematical. 
 
 Darkness  is  an  emblem  of  ignorance  and 
 error;  and  an  emblem  the  most  striking. 
 As  the  pall  of  darkness  is  drawn  over  the 
 world  the  fair  face  of  nature  fades  from  the 
 ■ght;  every  object  becomes  indistinct  or 
 s  wholly  obscured  ;  and  all  that  can  cheer 
 the  sight,  or  direct  the  steps  of  man 
 vanishes.  So  the  gradual  accumulation  of 
 religious  errors,  thickening  with  every  age, 
 banished  the  knowledge  of  God  and  His 
 truth  from  tlie  understanding  of  men,  till  all 
 that  was  sublime  in  speculation,  cheering 
 to  the  heart,  supporting  to  the  hopes,  or 
 directive  to  the  actions  of  men,  passed 
 away  from  the  soul,  and  left  the  intellec- 
 tual world  like  that  of  nature  deprived  of 
 light.  The  heaven  of  the  soul  was  hung 
 with  blackness,  and  "their  foolish  heart 
 was  darkened."  R.  Tf'utson. 
 
 DARKNESS— Meaning  of. 
 
 Darkness  is  taken  properly,  or  meta- 
 phorically, 
 
 I.  Properly,  darkness  is  nothing  else 
 but  a  privation  of  light ;  it  is  no  positive 
 creation ;  it  hath  no  cause  in  nature, 
 but  is  the  consequence  of  the  sun's  ab- 
 sence. 
 
 II.  Metaphorically,  or'improperly,  it  sig- 
 nifies divers  things;  (1)  The  state  of  nature 
 or  unregeneracy,  or  deep  alienation  from 
 the  life  of  God ;  "  Ye,  that  were  some 
 time  darkness,"  &c.  (Eph.  v,  8,  II)  ;  (2) 
 Several  sins  wherein  wicked  men  live;  (3) 
 desertion;  (4)  the  grave;  (5)  Hell;  (6) 
 alHictions. 
 
 I.  Darkness  causeth  a  man  to  lose  his 
 
 way,  and  wander  about,  and  exposeth  him 
 to  many  dangers.  So  spiritual  darkness 
 (John  xii,  35  ;  Jer.  xiii,  16). 
 
 2.  There  are  degrees  of  darkness  :  dark- 
 ness and  thick  darkness,  and  the  blackness 
 of  darkness.  So  there  are  degrees  of  sin, 
 degrees  of  misery,  and  degrees  of  torments 
 in  hell. 
 
 3.  Darkness  is  more  grievous  to  such  as 
 have  enjoyed  light,  than  to  a  man  born 
 blind.  So  it  is  more  grievous  to  a 
 Christian  who  has  had  light,  to  be  involved 
 in  the  darkness  of  sin  than  for  one  who 
 never  found  the  light  of  life. 
 
 4.  There  is  no  darkness  but  the  sun  can 
 dispel ;  so  there  is  no  sin  but  God  can  for- 
 give. £.  Keach. 
 
 DARKNESS— Walking  in. 
 
 The  light  would  never  be  so  acceptable 
 were  it  not  for  that  usual  intercourse  of 
 darkness.  Too  much  honey  doth  turn  to 
 gall,  and  too  much  joy,  even  spiritual, 
 would  make  us  wantons.  Happier  a  great 
 deal  is  that  man's  case,  whose  soul  by  in- 
 ward desolation  is  humbled,  than  he  whose 
 heart  is  through  abundance  of  spiritual 
 delight  lifted  up  and  exalted  above  measui-e. 
 Better  it  is  sometimes  to  go  down  into  the 
 pit  with  him,  who,  beholding  darkness  and 
 bewailing  the  loss  of  inward  joy  and  con- 
 solation, crieth  from  the  bottom  of  the 
 lowest  hell,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast 
 thou  forsaken  me  ?"  than  continually  to 
 walk  arm  and  arm  with  angels,  to  sit  as  it 
 were  in  Abraham's  bosom,  and  to  have  no 
 thought,  no  cogitation,  but  "  I  thank  my 
 God  it  is  not  with  me  as  it  is  with  other 
 men."  R.  Hooker. 
 
 DAY  OP  ADVERSITY. 
 
 It  is  a  day  of  adversity — 
 
 1.  When  we  meet  with  a  reverse  of 
 worldly  fortune,  and  are  involved  in  poverty 
 and  want. 
 
 2.  When  friends  or  relatives  are  re- 
 moved by  the  stroke  of  death. 
 
 3.  When  sickness  and  disease  invade  our 
 persons,  or  our  families. 
 
 4.  When  we  are  reviled  and  persecuted 
 for  Christ's  sake. 
 
 5.  When  Satan  is  permitted  to  thrust 
 sore  at  us,  and  to  assault  us  with  severe 
 temptations.  Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 DAY  OP  LIFE— The. 
 
 Man's  life  is  compared  to  a  day.  This  day 
 to  some  may  be  distinguished  into  twelve 
 hours.  The  first  gives  us  nativity.  Second- 
 ly, infancy.  Thirdly,  childhood.  Fourthly, 
 tender  age,  wherein  toys  and  gauds  fill  up 
 our  scene.  Fitthly,  youth.  Sixthly,  our 
 high  noon  ;  God  that  could  not  be  heard 
 before  for  the  loud  noise  of  vanity,  now 
 looks  for  audience,  for  obedience.  Seventhly, 
 this  is  full  of  cares  and  crosses ;  the  dugs 
 
220 
 
 TAYS— DEAD. 
 
 of  the  world  taste  bitter;  it  is  full  time 
 that  this  hour  should  wean  us.  The 
 eighth  brings  us  to  a  sense  of  mortality : 
 we  feel  our  blood  dtjcaying.  Ninthly,  our 
 bodies  go  crooked  and  stooijing ;  to  put  us 
 in  mind  that  they  are  going  to  their 
 original  earth.  Tenthly,  we  are  even  as 
 dying  J  we  do  die  by  degrees;  our  senses 
 fail  us,  our  eyes  are  dim,  like  old  Isaac's, 
 our  ears  deaf,  our  tastes  dull,  our  grinders 
 are  done,  our  stilts  unable  to  support  us. 
 Eleventhly,  we  are  a  burden  to  ourselves, 
 to  our  friends ;  we  long  for  death,  if  any 
 hope  of  a  better  life  hath  possessed  our 
 hearts.  The  twelfth  hour  it  comes.  Which 
 of  these  hours  pass  over  us  without  God's 
 mercies  ?  without  our  voluntary  unthank- 
 fulness  ?  unless  those  first  hours  wherein 
 our  ignorance  is  incapable  of  such  observ- 
 ance. If  none  of  these  hours  reclaim  us, 
 our  day  is  spent,  and  the  night  comes, 
 that  night  "  wherein  no  man  can  work  " 
 (John  ix,  4),  actively  to  couiibrt,  though 
 passively  he  works  for  ever  in  torment.  I 
 know  that  God  cuts  many  a  one  short  of 
 most  of  these  hours,  and  often  shuts  up  his 
 daylight  before  he  comes  to  his  noon. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 DAYS  (Names  of)— Origin  of  the. 
 
 The  idols  which  our  Saxon  ancestors 
 worshipped — from  which  the  days  of  the 
 week  derive  their  names—  were  various,  as 
 were  the  principal  motives  to  their  adoption. 
 
 The  Idol  of  the  &».— This  idol,  which 
 represented  the  glorious  luminary  of  the 
 day,  was  the  chief  object  of  their  worship. 
 It  is  described  like  the  bust  of  a  man  upon 
 a  pillar,  holding,  with  out-stretched  arms, 
 a  burning  wheel  before  his  breast.  The 
 first  day  of  the  week  was  especially  dedi- 
 cated to  its  adoration,  which  they  termed 
 the  Sun's  do&g,  hence  is  derived  the  word 
 Sunday. 
 
 The  Idol  of  tlie  Moon. — The  next  was  the 
 idol  of  the  Moon,  woi  shipped  on  the  second 
 day  of  the  week,  called  by  them  Moon's 
 doer) ;  and  since,  by  us,  Monday.  The  form 
 of  this  idol  is  intended  to  represent  a 
 woman,  habited  in  a  short  coat  and  a  hood, 
 having  two  long  ears.  The  moon  which  she 
 holds  in  her  hand  represents  the  quality. 
 
 The  Idol  of  Tuisco. — Tuisco  was  first 
 deified  as  the  father  and  ruler  of  the  Teu- 
 tonic race,  but  in  course  of  time  he  was 
 worshipped  as  the  son  of  earth.  From 
 this  came  the  Saxon  word  Tn/sco's  dceg, 
 which  we  call  Tuesday.  He  is  represented 
 as  standing  on  a  pedestal,  an  old,  venerable 
 sage,  clothed  in  the  skin  of  an  animal, 
 holding  a  sceptre  in  his  right  hand. 
 
 The  Idol  of  Woden,  or  Odin.— Woden, 
 or  Udin,  was  the  supreme  divinity  of  the 
 Northern  nations.  This  hero  is  supposed 
 to  have  emigrated  from  the  East,  but  from 
 what    country,  or    at    what   time,  is  not 
 
 known.  His  exploits  form  the  greater 
 jiart  of  the  mythological  creed  of  the 
 Northern  nations,  and  his  achievements 
 are  magnificent  beyond  credibility.  The 
 name  of  the  fourth  day  of  the  week,  called 
 by  the  Saxons  Woden's  dwij,  and  by  us 
 Wednesday,  is  derived  from  this  personage. 
 Woden  is  represented  in  a  martial  attitude, 
 with  a  broad  sword  uplifted  in  his  right 
 hand. 
 
 The  Idol  Thor.—Thor,  the  eldest  and  bra- 
 vest of  the  sons  of  Woden  and  Friga,  was, 
 after  his  parents,  considered  the  greatest 
 among  the  Saxons  and  Danes.  To  him 
 the  fifth  day  of  the  week,  called  by  them 
 Tkor's  dag,  and  by  us  Thursday,  was  con- 
 secrated. Thor  is  represented  as  sitting 
 upon  a  throne,  with  a  crown  of  gold  upon 
 his  head,  adorned  with  a  cii'cle  in  front, 
 wherein  were  set  twelve  bright  burnished 
 gold  stars,  and  with  a  regal  sceptre  in  his 
 right  hand. 
 
 The  Idol  of  Friga,  or  Frea. — Friga,  or 
 Frea,  was  the  wife  of  Woden,  or  Odin,  and 
 next  to  him,  the  most  reverend  divinity 
 among  the  heathen  Saxons,  Danes,  and 
 Northern  nations.  In  the  most  ancient 
 times  Friga,  or  Frea,  was  the  same  with 
 the  goddess  Hertha,  or  Earth.  To  her 
 the  sixth  day  of  the  week  was  consecrated, 
 which  by  the  Saxons  was  written  Friga's 
 dceg,  corresponding  with  our  Friday.  Friga 
 was  repres;^nted  with  a  drawn  sword  in  her 
 right  hand  and  a  bow  in  her  left. 
 
 The  Idol  Sealer. — The  idol  Seater  is  re- 
 presented on  a  pedestal,  whereon  is  placed 
 a  perch,  on  the  sharp  prickled  back  of 
 which  he  stood.  His  head  was  uncovered 
 and  his  visage  lean.  In  his  left  hand  he 
 held  up  a  wheel,  and  in  his  right  hand  was 
 a  pail  of  water,  wherein  were  flowers  and 
 fruits;  and  his  dress  consisted  of  a  long 
 coat,  girded  with  linen.  The  appellation 
 given  to  the  day  of  his  celebratit)n  is  still 
 retained.  The  Saxons  named  it  Sealer's 
 Doeg,  which  we  call  Saturday. 
 
 Dr.  Jeffcrs. 
 
 DEAD— still  Living. 
 
 They  who  have  quitted  this  earthly 
 scene  have  scarcely  left  a  trace  of  them- 
 selves behind;  the  arrow  has  flown,  and 
 the  air  has  quickly  closed  upon  the  passage; 
 the  leaf  has  fallen,  and  is  mixed  with  the 
 earth  around  the  parent  tree;  the  rain- 
 drop has  sunk  into  the  ocean,  and  is  lost 
 in  its  depths.  Our  general  and  lesser  con- 
 ception touching  the  dead  is,  that  they 
 are  no  more,  that  they  are  extinct,  that 
 they  have  perished;  but,  surely  as  our- 
 selves now  live,  exercising  our  faculties  and 
 entertaining  our  emotions,  these  spirits,  no 
 more  within  our  range,  with  a  mental  ac- 
 tivity to  us  unknown,  now  muse,  now  re- 
 volve, now  look  backward,  now  look  for- 
 ward, only  more  intensely,  because   their 
 
DEAD. 
 
 221 
 
 intellectual  essence  is  undiverted,  is  unen- 
 cumbered,  and  nothing  can  occur  to  clog 
 its  operations,  or  to  fix  it  in  forgetfulness 
 or  indifference.  Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 DEAD — Mourning  for  the. 
 
 Forgive,  blest  shade,  the  tributary  tear 
 That  mourns  thy  exit  from  a  world  like 
 this ; 
 Forgive   the   wish  that  would   have  kept 
 thee  here,  [bliss. 
 
 And  stayed  thy  progress  to  the  seats  of 
 No  more  confined  to  grovelling  scenes  of 
 night. 
 No  more  a  tenant  pent  in  mortal  clay ; 
 Now  should  we   rather   hail  thy  glorious 
 flight. 
 And  track  thy  journey  to  the  realms  of 
 day.  Steele. 
 
 DEAD— ITumhers  of  the. 
 
 All  that  tread 
 The  globe  are  but  a  handful  to  the  tribes 
 That   slumber   in   its   bosom.      Take   the 
 
 wings 
 Of  morning,  and  the  Barcan  desert  pierce. 
 Or  lose  thyself  in  the  continuous  woods 
 Where   rolls   the  Oregon,    and   hears   no 
 
 sound 
 Save  his  own  dashings, — yet  the  dead  are 
 
 there ; 
 And  millions  in  those  solitudes,  since  first 
 The  flight  of  years  began,  have  laid  them 
 
 down 
 In  their  last  sleep :  the  dead  reign  there 
 
 alone.  Bryant. 
 
 DEAD— Unhuried, 
 
 There  are  many  dead  people  in  the  world 
 who  are  not  yet  buried.  There  are  thou- 
 sands who  have  been  dead  many  years  and 
 do  not  know  it.  When  a  man's  heart  is 
 cold  and  indifferent  about  religion  ;  when 
 his  hands  are  never  employed  in  doing 
 God's  work  ;  when  his  heart  is  never  fami- 
 liar with  His  ways ;  when  his  tongue  is 
 seldom  used  in  prayer  and  praise ;  when 
 his  ears  are  deaf  to  the  voice  of  Christ  in 
 the  Gospel;  when  his  eyes  are  blind  to  the 
 beauty  of  heaven ;  when  his  mind  is  full 
 of  the  world,  and  has  no  room  nor  time 
 for  spiritual  things — then  a  man  is  dend. 
 Eyle. 
 
 DEAD  (Pious) — Communion  with  the. 
 
 I  have  communion  with  my  dearest  love 
 before  the  throne.  He  waits  for  me— he 
 beckons  me  away.  I  want  to  be  a  meet 
 partaker  with  my  dear,  dear,  holy  husband, 
 now  in  light.  I  want  to  feel  a  fuller 
 degree  of  the  spirit  in  which  he  lives.  O 
 Lord,  thou  knowest  our  union  was  far 
 more  in  the  spirit  than  in  the  fiesh ;  thou 
 hast  said  "What  God  hath  joined  together, 
 let  no  man  put  asunder."  Are  we  not  still 
 one  ?  Mrs.  Fletcher. 
 
 DEAD  (Pious)— Happiness  of  the. 
 I  know  thou  hast  gone  to  the  homo  of  thy 
 rest. 
 Then  why  should  my  soul  be  so  sad  ? 
 I  know  thou  hast  gone  where  the  weury 
 are  blest. 
 And  the  mourner  looks  up  and  is  glad ! 
 Where  love  has  put  off  in  the  land  of  its 
 birth 
 The  stains  it  had  gathered  in  this. 
 And  hope,  the  sweet  singer  that  gladden'd 
 the  earth, 
 Lies  asleep  on  the  bosom  of  bliss. 
 I  know  thou  hast  gone  where  thy  forehead 
 is  starr'd 
 With  tlie  beauty  that  dwelt  in  thy  soul. 
 Where  the  light  of  thy  loveliness  cannot 
 be  marr'd. 
 Nor  the  heart  he  flung  back   from   its 
 goal. 
 I  know  thou  hast  drunk  of  the  Lethe  that 
 flows 
 Through   a    land   where    they   do    not 
 forget. 
 That  sheds  over  memory  only  repose. 
 And  takes  from  it  only  regret. 
 
 T.  K.  Hervey. 
 
 DEAD  (Pious)— Nearness  to  the. 
 
 When  the  spirit  of  the  living  Christian 
 draws  nigh  to  the  Throne  of  Grace,  there 
 is  then  between  him  and  the  spirits  of  the 
 just  made  perfect  a  real  niarness,  the 
 thought  of  which  sliould  be  most  consolatory 
 to  those  whose  friends  have  fallen  asleep 
 in  Jesus.  They  are  then  breathing  the 
 same  atmosphere  of  communion  with 
 Christ,  which  those  breathe  who  are  with- 
 Him  in  Paradise.  The  radii  of  a  circle,  in 
 approaching  a  centre,  cannot  but,  in  the 
 nature  of  things,  draw  near  to  one  another  j 
 and  two  hearts,  though  separated  by 
 oceans  and  mountains — yea,  though  sepa- 
 rated by  a  ^greater  gulpli,  which  divides 
 the  seen  from  the  unseen  world— if  both 
 approach  that  great  centre  of  attraction  in 
 the  spiritual  world,  "the  Lamb  slain  from 
 the  foundation  of  the  world,"  cannot  but 
 really  and  truly  draw  near  to  one  another, 
 though  there  may  be  no  outward  visibl« 
 token  of  such  nearness. 
 
 Br.  E.  M.  Goulhurn. 
 
 DEAD  (Pious)— Presence  of  the. 
 
 Perhaps  he  is  nearer  to  me  than  ever. 
 Perhaps  he  sees  me  continually,  and,  under 
 God,  guards  and  keeps  me.  Perhaps  he 
 knows  my  very  thoughts.  These  reflec- 
 tions, though  under  a  perhaps,  give  me 
 some  help.  Could  they  be  concurred  by 
 reason,  and  above  all  by  Scripture,  they 
 would  yield  me  much  consolation.  I  will 
 try  if  I  can  find  this  solid  ground  for  them. 
 It  does  not  appear  to  me  at  all  contrary 
 to  reason  to  believe  that  happy  departed 
 
DEAD. 
 
 spirits  sep  and  know  all  tlioy  would  wish, 
 and  are  divinely  pevniitted  to  know ;  and 
 that  they  are  concerned  for  the  dear  fellow 
 pilgrims  whom  they  have  Itilt  behind.  1 
 cannot  but  believe  they  are.  Though 
 death  is  a  boundary  we  cannot  see  through, 
 they  vvlio  have  passed  the  gulf  may  see  us. 
 Some  small  insects  can  see  but  a  little  way  ; 
 an  apple  would  appear  to  them  a  mountain ; 
 but  we  can  see  a  thousand  of  them  crawl- 
 ing lit  ouce,  on  wliat  we  call  a  small  spot 
 of  earth.  When  an  infant  is  brought  into 
 the  world,  how  many  senses,  till  then 
 locked  up,  arc  brought  into  action  !  There 
 was  an  apparent  separation  from  the  mo- 
 ther; but  every  day  increases  its  ability  of 
 entering  into  her  thoughts,  and  bearing  a 
 part  in  all  her  feelings.  And  may  we  not 
 suppose  that  some  powers,  analogous  to 
 sight  and  hearing,  are  equally  0])eued  on 
 the  entrance  of  a  spirit  into  a  heavenly 
 state;  though,  like  the  infant,  perhaps 
 small  in  the  beginning  compared  with  tlie 
 measure  that  is  to  follow  ?  Ai"e  not  these 
 reasonable  ideas  strengthened  by  various 
 passtiges  of  Scrij)ture  .«' 
 
 When  Elijah  laid  himself  down  to  sleep 
 under  a  juniper  tree  in  the  desert,  an  angel 
 bade  him  arise  and  eat  the  food  a  watchful 
 Providence  had  provided  for  him.  The 
 prophet  did  not,  like  Dauiel,  fall  down 
 as  one  dead;  nor,  like  Zachariah  and  the 
 shepherds,  become  sore  afraid;  after  a 
 moderate  repast  he  slept  again,  and  re- 
 ceived a  second  visit  from  his  bright  mes- 
 senger with  the  same  steady  calmness  as 
 before.  From  ^vhich  I  am  led  to  suppose 
 that  Elijah  was  accustomed  to  such  com- 
 munications. 
 
 If  there  be  joy  in  the  realms  above 
 "  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than 
 over  ninety  and  nine  which  went  not 
 astray,"  how  evident  it  is  that  the  state  of 
 both  individuals  must  be  known  there. 
 The  spirit  of  my  dear  husband  loved  and 
 cared  for  me,  anil  longed  above  every  other 
 desire  for  my  spiritual  advancement.  If 
 it  were  the  body,  why  doth  it  not  love  me 
 still  ?  Because  that  which  loved  me  is 
 gone  from  it.  And  what  is  that  but  the 
 spirit,  which  actuated  the  body  as  clock- 
 work does  the  hand  that  tells  the  hour  ? 
 As  spiritual  union  arises  from  a  communi- 
 cation of  the  love  which  tlows  from  Jesus 
 Christ,  I  cannot  but  believe  that  a  fuller 
 measu^  of  that  divine  principle  must  in- 
 crease, not  dinunish,  the  union  between 
 kindred  souls;  and  that  their  change  will 
 not  consist  in  the  loss,  but  in  the  improve- 
 ment of  all  good  all'ections. 
 
 We  are  now  in  the  body,  and  have 
 senses  and  faculties  suited  thereto ;  and 
 may  not  spirits  have  faculties  suited  to 
 spirits,  by  which  they  can  as  easily  discern 
 your  soul,  as  you  coidd  perceive  their 
 bodies,  if  they  were  in  the  same  state  of 
 
 existence  as  yourself?  If  you  had  never 
 heard  of  a  looking-glass,  would  you  under- 
 stand me  if  I  said,  "  Though  you  stand  at 
 one  end  of  that  long  gallery,  and  1  at  the 
 other,  with  my  back  toward  you,  I  can 
 discern  your  every  action  and  motion  ?  " 
 Yet  such  a  knowledge  the  looking-glass 
 would  convey  to  me.  Now,  if  all  things 
 on  earth  are  patterns  and  shadows  of  those 
 above,  uiay  not  something  analogous  to  the 
 glass  represent  to  the  world  of  spirits  as 
 just  a  picture  of  the  changes  of  posture  in 
 the  spirit  as  the  glass  does  those  of  the 
 body  ?  That  the  appearance  of  the  soul 
 still  in  the  body  may  be  seen  in  heaven, 
 without  the  knowledge  of  the  person  con- 
 cerned, is  evident ;  because  Ananias  knew 
 not  that  Saul  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of 
 him,  until  (.iod  said  to  him,  "  Heboid,  he 
 prayeth  ;  and  hath  seen  in  a  vision  a  man 
 named  Ananias  coming  in,  and  putting  his 
 hand  on  him,  that  he  may  receive  his 
 sight." 
 
 God,  both  in  His  nature  and  His  works, 
 is  perfect  tinity.  Division  never  comes 
 from  Him.  His  original  design  for  our 
 tirst  parents  was  not  sorrow,  consequently, 
 not  separation.  I  f  we  suppose  their  friend- 
 ship was  not  to  have  been  immortal,  we 
 must  suppose  pain  to  be  in  paradise. 
 
 Mrs.  Fletcher. 
 
 DEAD  (Pious)— Sleep  of  the. 
 
 Homer  fittingly  calls  sleep  "the  brother 
 of  death,"  because  of  the  striking  resem- 
 blance between  them ;  and  often  do  we 
 find  the  same  phrase  in  the  writings  of 
 other  celebrated  heathens.  But  in  the 
 Scriptures  it  is  employed  to  signify  vastly 
 more  than  ever  entered  into  pagan  mind. 
 Hence  no  term  has  been  in  such  frequent 
 service  among  the  "holy  men"  who  "wrote 
 and  spoke  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
 Ghost."  In  the  lips  of  Jesus,  however, 
 this  word  is  a  new  and  living  one,  carrying 
 with  it  a  mightier  and  richer  import  than 
 it  ever  possessed  before.  It  has  received 
 the  most  amjileand  successful  confirmation 
 in  the  last  lumr  of  tens  of  thousands  of 
 His  devout  followers.  They  laid  them- 
 selves down  to  die,  not  as  those  who  dread 
 the  inght  because  of  the  remembrance  of 
 hours  when,  like  Job,  they  were  "  scared 
 with  dreams"  and  "terrified  through 
 visions,"  but  like  tired  labourers,  to  whom 
 night  is  indeed  a  season  of  peaceful  re- 
 freshment. And  how  imperceptibly  they 
 sank  into  their  last  slumber !  Their  tran- 
 sition was  so  mild  and  gradual,  that  it  was 
 impossible  for  those  who  stood  round  their 
 dying  pillow  to  say  exactly  when  it  took 
 place.  Tliere  was  no  struggle,  no  con- 
 vulsion. The  angel  of  death  spread  his 
 wide,  white  wings,  meekly  over  them,  and 
 then,  with  a  smile  upon  their  palld  coun- 
 tenance,  serene  and  lovely  as  heaven  itself. 
 
DEATH. 
 
 223 
 
 tlicy  closed   their  eyes   on   all   terrestrial 
 objicts,  and  tell  "asioep  in  Jesus:" 
 
 "!Night  dews  fall  not  more  si-'iitly  to  the 
 <;rouiul, 
 Nor   weary,    worn-out    winds    expire    so 
 soft." 
 
 "So  He  giveth  His  heloved  sleep."  And 
 that  sleep  is  as  profound  throughout  as  it 
 was  tranquil  at  the  beginning.  The  happy 
 fireside  and  the  busy  exchange — the  halls 
 of  science  and  the  houses  of  legislation — 
 the  oft-frequented  walk,  and  tlie  holy 
 temple — are  nothing  tc  them  now.  Suns 
 I'ise  and  set,  stars  travel  and  glisten  ;  but 
 they  see  tliem  not :  tempests  howl,  and 
 thunders  roll  and  crash ;  but  they  hear 
 them  not.  Nothing  can  disturb  those 
 slumbers  "  till  the  day  dawn,  and  the 
 shadows  flee  away ;"  then  will  the  voice 
 of  the  archangel  sweep  over  "  God's  acre," 
 and  awake  all.  0  wondrous  awaking ! 
 what  eternal  consequences  hang  on  thee  ! 
 Edwin  Davies. 
 
 DEATH— in  the  Act. 
 
 The  livid  face,  the  horny  hands,  the 
 glassy  eyes  of  death  were  traceable  in  the 
 figure  which  lay  before  them.  In  a  dead 
 hollow  voice,  he  spoke  to  them  in  the  gab- 
 bling of  an  unearthly  tongue,  which  not 
 one  of  the  company  could  understand.  The 
 windows  were  opened,  perchance  a  little 
 fresh  air  faiuiing  him  might  invigorate, 
 but  all  the  air  that  is,  that  ever  blew 
 between  heaven  and  earth  could  not  put 
 fresh  life  into  him.  Had  he  been  immersed 
 up  to  his  chin  in  golden  coins  now,  his 
 stiO'ened  fingers  could  not  close  upon  one. 
 C.  Dickens. 
 
 DEATH— not  Annihilation. 
 
 It  requires  but  little  reflection  to  con- 
 vince any  one  that  death  is  not  the  de- 
 struction of  anything;  it  is  a  dissolution 
 of  parts.  Eut  not  a  particle  of  the  dying 
 body  ceases  to  be.  The  noble  ship,  which 
 once  rode  proudly  on  the  ocean,  the  glory 
 of  her  builders,  the  hope  of  her  owners, 
 freighted  with  a  precious  cargo,  may  be 
 wrecked  and  scattered  in  hroken  pieces 
 over  the  waters,  and  parts  of  it  sunk  in  the 
 depths  of  the  sea.  We  say  that  it  is  lost. 
 Eut  it  is  not  annihilated;  not  a  particle  of 
 it  has  passed  out  of  existence.  So,  death 
 is  the  separation  of  the  body  and  soul. 
 The  body  goes  to  decay  ;  it  may  he  reduced 
 to  ashes;  it  may  mingle  with  the  earth; 
 it  may  be  dissipated  in  the  air ;  but  not  a 
 particle  of  it  is  annihilated.  It  rests, 
 awaiting  "the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man," 
 at  "the  resurrection  both  of  the  just  and 
 of  the  unjust."  The  soul  leaves  the  body 
 at  death  :  "  Then  shall  the  dust  return  to 
 the  earth  as  it  was,  and  the  spirit  shall 
 return  unto  God  who  gave  it."     The  soul, 
 
 like  its  eternal  Author,  is  indestructible. 
 No  sword  can  touch  it ;  no  weapon  of  death 
 can  reach  it.  Anon. 
 
 DEA.TH— Beauty  in. 
 
 There  are  flowers  which  only  yield  their 
 fragrance  to  the  night;  there  are  faces 
 whose  beauty  only  fully  opens  out  in  death. 
 No  more  wrinkles;  no  drawn,  distorted 
 lineaments;  an  expression  of  extreme  hu- 
 mility, blended  with  gladness  of  hope ;  a 
 serene  brightness;  and  an  ideal  straighten- 
 ing of  the  outline,  as  if  the  Divine  finger, 
 source  of  supreme  beauty,  had  been  laid 
 there.  You  cannot  take  your  eyes  away. 
 Dead,  your  loved  one  consoles  you  for  the 
 agony  of  having  seen  him  suder.  His  face, 
 his  inexpressible  grandeur,  his  smile, — all 
 say  to  you,  "  Believe ;  yet  a  little  while, 
 and  thou  shalt  see  me  again." 
 
 Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 DEATH— a  Blessing. 
 
 I  congratulate  you  and  myself,  that  life 
 is  passing  fast  away.  Wliat  a  superlatively 
 grand  and  consoling  idea  is  that  of  death ! 
 Without  this  radiant  idea,  this  delightful 
 morning  star,  indicating  that  the  luminaiy 
 of  eternity  is  going  to  rise,  life  would,  to 
 my  view,  darken  into  midnight  melancholy. 
 Oh,  the  expectation  of  living  here  and  living 
 thus  always,  would  he  indeed  a  prospect  of 
 overwhelming  despair !  But  thanks  be  to 
 that  fatal  decree  that  dooms  us  to  die ! 
 thanks  to  that  Gospel  which  opens  the 
 vision  of  an  endless  life ;  and  thanks,  above 
 all,  to  that  Saviour  Friend  who  has  pro- 
 mised to  conduct  all  the  faithful  through 
 the  sacred  trance  of  death,  into  scenes  of 
 paradise  and  everlasting  delight. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 DEATH— Briheless. 
 
 Death  will  not  regard  any  ransom,  neither 
 will  he  rest  content  though  thou  givest 
 many  gifts.  Fye,  quoth  that  great  Car- 
 dinal  Beauford,  will  not  death  be  hired  ? 
 Will  money  do  nothing  ?  Wherefore  should 
 I  die,  being  so  rich  ?  If  the  whole  realm 
 would  save  my  life,  I  am  able  either  by 
 policy  to  get  it,  or  by  riches  to  buy  it. 
 Lewis  the  Eleventh  would  not  hear  of 
 death  all  the  time  of  his  last  sickness,  but 
 when  he  saw  there  was  no  remedy,  he  sent 
 for  the  holy  waters  from  Rhemes,  together 
 with  Aaron's  rod,  as  they  called  it,  and 
 other  holy  reliques,  thinking  therewith  to 
 stop  death's  mouth,  and  so  stave  him  ofli 
 but  it  would  not.  J.  Tra^]^. 
 
 DEATH— Calm. 
 
 The  summer  day  dies  calmly ;  over  hill 
 And  valley  like  a  drooping  bird  she  sinks 
 While  her  tir'd  purple  pinions  drop  pale 
 stars, 
 
224 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 The  first-'born  stars  of  night.     Ten  thou- 
 sand tears 
 
 Tell  her  departing ;  all  her  children  turn 
 
 Their  weeping  eyes  to  her  fair,  fading  face 
 
 Which    smiles    upon    their    tears.      Such 
 death  is  calm. 
 
 So  parts  the  Christian  mother  from   her 
 babes. 
 
 And  leaves  them  as  they  weep ;  a  thousand 
 eyes 
 
 From  heaven  are  watching  over  them. 
 
 Miss  Tatham. 
 
 DEATH— Comfort  in. 
 
 My  faithful  Saviour !  It  should  not  dis- 
 tress me  though  all  the  birds  of  the  air  were 
 daily  and  hourly  to  sing  and  discourse  to 
 me  of  my  mortality.  The  nectar  I  sip  from 
 Thy  dripping  wounds  swallows  up  the  few 
 bitter  drops  which  death  pours  out  to  me 
 from  his  cup,  at  my  departure  from  this 
 world.  What,  Lord  Jesus,  should  I  long 
 for  more  than  to  depart  and  be  with  Thee  ? 
 Ootthold. 
 
 DEATH— Comfort  in  View  of. 
 
 1.  That  there  is  scarcely  any  man  who 
 has  not,  at  one  time  or  another  in  the  course 
 of  his  life  suffered  more  pain  than  is 
 ordinarily  felt  by  people  when  they  die. 
 The  pang  of  death,  says  the  excellent  Mr. 
 M'ard,  is  often  less  than  that  of  the  tooth- 
 ache. 
 
 2.  The  covenant  of  God  is  of  force  with 
 His  people  when  they  lie  in  the  dust  of 
 the  earth.  Ages  after  the  fathers  of  the 
 Hebrew  tribes  were  dead,  the  Almighty 
 s;iid,  "  I  am  the-God  of  Abraham,  and  the 
 God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob"  (Matt. 
 xxii,  31,  32). 
 
 3.  In  death  their  union  with  Christ  is 
 continued;  just  as  the  personal  union  with 
 tiie  Divine  and  the  human  natures  re- 
 mained in  Him  when  His  body  lay  in  the 
 grave.  When  dead,  they  are  "the  dead 
 in  Christ"  (1  Thess.  iv,  16) ;  and  still  "  live 
 together  with  Him"  (1  Thess.  iv,  14). 
 
 4.  To  them  death  is  but  a  "sleep;"  a 
 temporary  state,  and  a  state  of  rest.  Ste- 
 phen "  fell  asleep"  (Acts  vii,  60) ;  and  all 
 who,  like  him,  die  in  faith  and  love,  "  sleep 
 in  Jesus"  (1  Thess.  iv,  14). 
 
 5.  Christ  has  taken  away  the  sting  ©f 
 death,  and  thus  deprived  it  of  its  terrors 
 to  all  believers.  He  assumed  the  human 
 nature,  "that  through  death  He  might 
 destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, 
 that  is,  the  devil ;  and  deliver  them  who, 
 through  fear  of  death,  were  all  their  life- 
 time subject  to  bondage"  (Heb.  ii,  14, 15). 
 
 6.  Death  is  but  a  sturdy  jwrter,  opening 
 the  door  of  eternity  and  letting  us  into 
 heaven ;  a  somewhat  rough  passage  to 
 eternal  pleasures. 
 
 7.  It  is  but  a   departing   out   of   this 
 
 world  unto  the  Father  in  heaven  (John 
 xvi,  28). 
 
 8.  In  the  Old  Testament  it  is  called  a 
 gathering  of  the  people  to  their  fathers. 
 
 9.  Jacob  made  little  of  it.  "  And  Israel 
 said  unto  Joseph,  Behold,  I  die."  "  And 
 when  Jacob  had  made  an  end  of  command- 
 ing his  sons,  he  gathered  u])  his  feet  into 
 the  bed,  and  yielded  up  the  ghost,  and  w.'is 
 gathered  unto  his  people"  (Gen.  xlviii, 
 21 ;  xlix,  33).  E.  Bolton. 
 
 Blush  at  terror  for  a  death 
 Which  gives  thee  to  repose  in  festive  bowers. 
 Where  nectars  sparkle,  angels  minister. 
 And  more  than  angels  share,  and  raise,  and 
 
 crown. 
 And  eternise  the  birth,  bloom,  bursts  of 
 
 bliss.  Young. 
 
 DEATH— Comfortable. 
 
 Without  love,  nothing  can  make  death 
 comfortable.  By  comfortable  I  do  not 
 mean  stupid  or  senseless.  I  would  not  say, 
 he  died  comfortably,  who  died  of  an  apo- 
 plexy, or  by  the  shot  of  a  cannon;  any 
 more  than  he  who,  having  his  conscience 
 seared,  died  as  unconcerned  as  the  beasts 
 that  perish.  Neither  do  I  believe  that  you 
 would  envy  any  one  of  the  comfort  of 
 dying  raving  mad.  But  by  a  comfortable 
 death,  I  mean  a  calm  passage  out  of  life, 
 full  of  even,  rational  peace  and  joy.  And 
 such  a  death,  all  the  acting,  and  all  the 
 suflering  in  the  world,  cannot  give,  without 
 love.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 DEATH— Conquered. 
 Death,  the  old  serpent's  son, 
 Thou  hadst  a  sting  once,  like  thy  sire. 
 That  carried  hell  and  ever-buruing  fire; 
 But  those  black  days  are  done  ; 
 Thy  foolish  spite  buried  thy  sting 
 In  the  profound  and  wide 
 Wound  of  our  Saviour's  side  : 
 And  now  thou  art  become  a  tame  and  harm- 
 less thing ; 
 
 A  thing  we  dare  not  fear. 
 Since  we  hear 
 That  our  triumphant  God,  to  punish  thee 
 For  the  affront  thou  didst  Him  on  the  tree 
 Hath  snatch'd  the  keys  of  hell  out  of  thy 
 hand. 
 
 And  made  the''  stand 
 A  porter  at  the  gateuf  life,  thy  mortal  enemy. 
 O  Thou  who  art  that  gate,  command  that  he 
 May  when  we  die, 
 And  thither  fly. 
 Let  us   in  the  courts  of  heaven  through 
 Thee !  Hallelujah.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 DEATH— a  Departure. 
 
 We  at  death  leave  one  place  to  go  to 
 another;  if  godly,  we  depart  from  onr 
 place  here  on  earth,  and  go  to  heaven ;  we 
 
DEATH. 
 
 225 
 
 depart  from  our  friends  on  earth  and  go  to 
 our  friends  iu  heaven  ;  we  depart  from  the 
 valley  of  tears,  and  go  to  the  mount  of 
 joy ;  we  depart  from  a  howling  wilderness, 
 to  go  to  a  heavenly  paradise.  Who  would 
 be  unwilling  to  exchange  a  Sodom  for  a 
 Sion,  an  Egypt  for  a  Canaan,  misery  for 
 glory  ?  B.  Keach. 
 
 DEATH— Description  of. 
 
 "  Are  not  my  days  few  ?  cease  then,  and 
 let  me  alone,  that  I  may  take  comfort  a 
 little,  before  I  go  whence  1  shall  not  return, 
 even  to  the  land  of  darkness,  and  the 
 shadow  of  death  j  a  land  of  darkness,  as 
 darkness  itself;  and  of  the  shadow  of 
 death,  without  any  order,  and  where  the 
 light  is  as  darkness."  A  more  philoso- 
 phical, pathetic  description  of  death  is  not 
 to  be  found  than  in  these  words  of  the  pa- 
 triarch. This  is  emphatically  a  "laud  of 
 darkness  and  the  shadow  of  death,  without 
 any  order."  Death  is  that  which  baffles  all 
 calculation  ;  death  is  that  which  mocks  all 
 prognosis  ;  death  is  that  which  ridicules  all 
 our  reckoning.  The  conclusions  of  the 
 moralist  and  of  the  physician  are  alike  at 
 fault  here  :  we  say,  such  a  man  is  likely  to 
 live,  and  such  a  man  is  likely  to  die  ;  and 
 death  mocks  our  notions,  and  takes  the  man 
 we  thought  likely  to  live,  and  leaves  the 
 man  we  thought  likely  to  die.  It  is  a 
 "  land  without  any  order."  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 What  is  death  ?  oh  !  what  is  death  ? 
 'Tis  the  snapping  of  the  chain  ; 
 
 'Tis  the  breaking  of  the  bowl; 
 'Tis  relief  from  every  pain  ; 
 
 'Tis  freedom  to  the  soul ; 
 'Tis  the  setting  of  the  sun 
 
 To  rise  again  to-morrow, 
 A  brighter  course  to  run 
 
 Nor  sink  again  in  sorrow. 
 Such  is  death  !  yes,  such  is  death  ! 
 
 What  is  death  ?  oh  !  what  is  death  ? 
 'Tis  slumber  to  the  weary ; 
 'Tis  rest  to  the  forlorn  ; 
 'Tis  shelter  to  the  dreary  ; 
 
 'Tis  peace  amid  the  storm  ; 
 'Tis  the  entrance  to  our  home ; 
 'Tis  the  passage  to  that  God 
 Who  bids  His  children  come 
 
 When  their  weary  course  is  trod. 
 Such  is  death  !  yea,  such  is  death  ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 DEATH — Desolations  of. 
 
 "Wliat  disarrays  like  death  ?  It  defaces 
 the  fascination  of  the  beautiful.  It  breaks 
 the  lamp  of  the  wise.  It  withers  the 
 strength  of  the  mighty.  It  snatches  the 
 store  of  the  rich.  Kings  are  stripjied  of 
 trapping,  trophy,  treasure;  "their  glory 
 shall  not  descend  after  them." 
 
 Dr.  R,  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 DEATH— Doings  of. 
 
 Death  only  draws  up  the  veil  and  reveals 
 the  glories  of  heaven  to  the  emancipated 
 soul  of  the  Christian.  Anon. 
 
 DEATH— in  Duty. 
 
 He  that  dies  in  an  earnest  pursuit,  is 
 like  one  that  is  wounded  in  hot  blood ; 
 who,  for  the  time,  scarce  feels  the  hurt: 
 and  therefore  a  mind  fixed  and  bent  upon 
 somewhat  that  is  good  doth  avert  the 
 dolors  of  death ;  but  above  all,  believe  it, 
 the  sweetest  canticle  is,  Lord,  noio  lettest 
 thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 DEATH— Equality  in. 
 
 Death  comes  equally  to  us  all,  and  makes 
 us  all  equal  when  it  comes.  The  ashes  of 
 an  oak  in  a  chimney  are  no  epitaph  of  that, 
 to  tell  me  how  high,  or  how  large,  that 
 was ;  it  tells  me  not  wliat  flocks  it  shel- 
 tered whilst  it  stood,  nor  what  men  it  hurt 
 when  it  fell.  The  dust  of  great  men's 
 graves  is  speechless  too ;  it  says  nothing,  it 
 distinguishes  nothing.  As  soon  the  dust  of 
 a  wretch  whom  thou  wouldest  not,  as  of  a 
 prince  whom  thou  couldst  not  look  upon, 
 will  trouble  thine  eyes  if  the  wind  blow  it 
 thither ;  and  when  a  whirlwind  hath  blown 
 the  dust  of  the  churchyard  into  the  church, 
 and  the  man  sweeps  out  the  dust  of  the 
 church  into  the  churchyard,  who  will  un- 
 dertake to  sift  those  dusts  again,  and  to 
 pronounce,  "  This  is  the  patriciai?,  this  is 
 the  noble  flower,  and  this  the  yeoman,  tliis 
 the  plebeian  bran  ?"  Dr.  Donne. 
 
 We  look  at  man,  and  wonder  at  such  odds 
 'Twixt  things    that  were   the   same  by 
 birth  ; 
 We  look  on  kings  as  giants  of  the  earth  : 
 These  giants  are  but  pigmies  to  the  gods. 
 The     humblest      bush,     and    proudest 
 oak. 
 Are  but  of  equal  proof  against  the  thun- 
 der-stroke. 
 Beauty,  and  strength,  and  wit,  and  wealth 
 and  power. 
 Have  their  short  flourishing  hour ; 
 And  love  to  see  themse've-i  and  smile. 
 And  joy  in  their  pre-eminence  awhile; 
 Ev'n  so,  in  the  same  land, 
 Poor  weeds,  rich  corn,  gay  flowers,  toge- 
 ther stand  : 
 Alas !    death    mows    down    all    with    an 
 impartial  hand.  Cowley. 
 
 The  glories  of  our  birth  and  state. 
 
 Are  shadows,  not  substantial  things ; 
 There  is  no  armour  against  fate  : 
 Death  lays  his  icy  hands  on  kings; 
 Sceptre  and  crown. 
 Must  tumble  down, 
 
 15 
 
DEATH. 
 
 And  in  the  dust  be  equal  made 
 
 With  the  poor  crooked  scythe  and  spade. 
 
 Some  men  with  swords  may  reap  the  field, 
 And  plant  fresh  laurels  where  they  kill; 
 But  their  strong  nerves  at  last  must  yield, 
 They  tame  but  one  another  still ; 
 Early  or  late, 
 They  stoop  to  fate, 
 And  must  give  up  their  murmuring  breath; 
 When  they,  pale  captives,  creep  to  death. 
 
 The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow. 
 
 Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds ; 
 Upon  death's  purple  altar,  now. 
 
 See  where  the  victor  victim  bleeds : 
 All  heads  must  come 
 To  the  cold  tomb. 
 Only  the  ac'cious  of  the  just 
 Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  the  dust. 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 DEATH— in  Eternity. 
 
 In  the  future  state  of  things,  when  time 
 has  run  to  its  period,  and  the  affairs  of  it 
 are  shut  up  by  the  final  judgment,  "  Death 
 and  hell  are  now  to  be  cast  into  the  lake 
 of  fire  and  brimstone,  which  is  the  second 
 death."  All  death  is  now  to  be  gathered 
 into  death,  hell  into  hell.  It  shall  be  con- 
 tracted, gathered  into  itself.  It  is  true  it 
 will  be  therefore  consummate,  finished, 
 perfect  in  its  kind,  or  full  of  itself,  as  that 
 which  is  without  mixture  cannot  but  be  : 
 here  will  be  pure  death,  without  mixture, 
 and  which  therefore  will  have  no  allay. 
 But  then,  whereas  formerly  it  ranged  to 
 and  fro  uncontrolled,  now  it  is  eonfined  to 
 its  own  narrower  circle,  and  can  have  no 
 new  subject  ;  and  shall  therefore  give  no 
 further  trouble  or  disturbance  to  the  rest 
 of  God's  creation.  John  Howe. 
 
 DEATH— Expecting. 
 
 If  thou  expect  death  as  a  friend,  prepare 
 to  entertain  him  ;  if  thou  expect  death  as 
 an  enemy,  prepare  to  overcome  him  ;  death 
 has  no  advantage  but  when  he  comes  a 
 stranger.  F.  Quarles. 
 
 DEATH— not  Extinction  of  Being, 
 
 Death  will  be  urged  as  the  palpable  ex- 
 tinction of  the  being.  But  no  man  will 
 assert  that  then  a  single  atom  of  the  body 
 is  destroyed.  The  organic  structure  is 
 altered;  fibre  and  fluid  are  decomposed; 
 the  whole  enters  into  new  combinations, 
 but  not  a  particle  is  lost.  Why  may  not 
 the  same  be  true  of  the  soul  ?  It  was  held 
 by  the  body, — the  body  has  been  afiected 
 by  mechanical  causes,  which  could  not 
 reach  the  soul, — the  soul  has  become  disen- 
 gaged. Many  changes  took  place  in  that 
 body  through  life,  and  yet  the  soul  was  the 
 same  ;  and  to  the  last,  amidst  the  wreck  of 
 its  corporeal  vehicle,  how  often  does  it 
 triumph?     I   speak  not  of  the  hero,  the 
 
 martyr,  the  patriot  who  kisses  the  block, 
 the  chief  who  chants  the  death  song, — but 
 of  one  whose  springs  of  life  are  all  shivered, 
 and  all  his  vigours  spent.  There  a  lam- 
 bent fire  plays,  which  no  chill  and  damp 
 of  earth  can  extinguish.  There  a  might 
 puts  forth  itself,  victorious  in  that  grasp 
 beneath  which  all  things  wither.  And 
 have  we  not  witnessed  the  holy  spectacle  ? 
 The  mind  rising  in  majesty,  while  all  its 
 barriers  were  falling  from  around  it !  the 
 gem  flashing  with  new  brightness,  while  its 
 setting  was  destroyed  !  It  is  then  greatest 
 when  it  might  be  expected  to  yield— then 
 freest  when  it  might  be  expected  to  shrink  ! 
 Are  not  then  the  probabilities  strongly  in 
 favour  of  the  soul's  independence  and  inde- 
 structibleness  ?  Dr.  E.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 DEATH— Eear  of. 
 
 Do  not  the  wicked  themselves  prophesy- 
 by  their  fear  of  death,  a  worse  condition  of 
 some  dreadful  judgment  after  this  life, 
 prepared  for  sinners  and  all  that  contemn 
 God,  when  none  but  they  stand  in  such  fear 
 of  death  ?  Why  doth  one  wish  for  it,  and 
 another  tremble  to  hear  of  it  ?  If  it  were 
 but  a  sleep,  no  man  would  fear  it  at  all ; 
 for  who  feareth  to  take  his  rest  when  the 
 night  approacheth  ?  If  it  did  take  away 
 sense  and  feeling,  and  make  men  trees  or 
 stones,  no  man  would  fear  it  at  all ;  for 
 who  would  fear  strokes,  if  he  could  feel 
 no  more  than  a  stone  ?  Or  who  would 
 care  for  anything,  if  he  had  not  sense  of 
 anything  ?  Would  any  man  tremble  so,  to 
 be  as  the  dead  creatures  which  have  no 
 sense  of  evil  ?  They  must  needs  be  in  better 
 case  than  the  happiest  man  in  this  life  ; 
 which  is  not  without  the  sense  of  evil.' 
 Therefore  this  fear  of  death  which  you  see 
 in  all  but  the  faithful,  doth  presage  some 
 strange  torment,  some  heavy  change  and 
 sharp  punishment  to  those  men  which  they 
 begin  to  taste  already  before  they  die  ;  like 
 the  spirit  which  persecuted  Saul  before  his 
 end.  They  desire  not  to  be  dissolved,  but 
 they  fear  to  be  dissolved ;  they  go  not  to 
 Christ,  but  their  departure  is  an  everlasting 
 departure  from  Christ  to  the  damntd,  to 
 the  devils,  to  hell,  without  either  end  or 
 ease,  or  any  patience  to  endure  it. 
 
 Henri/  Smith. 
 
 Men  fear  death,  as  children  fear  to  go  in 
 the  dark ;  and  as  that  natural  fear  in 
 children  is  increased  with  tales,  so  is  the 
 other.  Certainly,  the  contemplation  of 
 death  as  the  wages  of  sin  and  the  passage 
 to  another  world,  is  holy  and  religious; 
 but  the  fear  of  it,  as  a,  tribute  due  unto 
 nature,  is  weak.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 Death  is  a  fearful  thing  : 
 The  wearied  and  most  loathed  earthly  life. 
 
DEATH. 
 
 227 
 
 That  age,  aclie,  penury,  and  imprisonment 
 
 Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  Paradise 
 
 To  what  we  fear  of  death !       Shakespeare. 
 
 DEATH— no  Fear  of. 
 
 "  1  want  to  talk  to  you  about  heaven," 
 said  a  dying  parent  to  a  member  of  his 
 family  ;  "  we  may  not  be  spared  to  each 
 other  long ;  may  we  meet  around  the 
 throne  of  glory,  one  family  in  heaven  !" 
 Overpowered  at  the  thought,  his  beloved 
 daughter  exclaimed,  "  Surely  you  do  not 
 think  there  is  any  danger  ?  "  Calmly  and 
 beautifully  he  replied,  "  Danger  !  my  dar- 
 ling. Oh  !  do  not  use  that  word.  There 
 can  be  no  danger  to  the  Christian,  whatever 
 may  happen.  All  is  right.  All  is  well. 
 God  is  love.  All  is  well — everlastingly 
 well — everlastingly  well."  Stevenson. 
 
 DEATH— The  First. 
 
 Death  did  not  first  strike  Adam,  the  first 
 sinful  man,  nor  Cain,  the  first  hypocrite, 
 but  Abel,  the  innocent  and  righteous.  The 
 first  soul  that  met  with  death,  overcame 
 death  ;  the  first  soul  that  parted  from  earth 
 went  to  heaven.  Death  argues  not  dis- 
 pleasure, because  he  whom  God  loved  best, 
 dies  first,  and  the  mui'derer  is  punished 
 with  living.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 DEATH— Gain  of. 
 
 Death  is  the  crown  of  life : 
 Were  death  denied,  poor  man  would  live 
 
 in  vain  ; 
 Were  death  denied,  to  live  would  not  be  life; 
 Were  death  denied,  even  fools  would  wish 
 
 to  die. 
 Death  wounds  to  cure ;  we  fall ;  we  rise ; 
 
 we  reign  ! 
 Spring   from  our  fetters;    fasten    in  the 
 
 skies  ; 
 Where    blooming    Eden    withers   in   our 
 
 sight : 
 Death  gives  us  more  than  was  in  Eden  lost. 
 This  king  of  terrors  is  the  prince  of  peace. 
 When  shall  I  die  to  vanity,  pain,  death  ? 
 When  shall  I  die  ?     When  shall  I  live  for 
 
 ever  ?  Young. 
 
 DEATH— God  With  Us  in. 
 
 It  is  true  that  no  earthly  friend  can  ac- 
 company us  through  the  swellings  of 
 Jordan.  There  is  no  human  arm  on  which 
 we  can  stay  as  we  walk  through  the  dark 
 valley.  But  though  we  may  then  be  alone 
 in  one  sense,  yet  we  need  not  in  another, 
 the  Saviour  has  promised  to  accompany  us. 
 He  says,  "When  thou  passest  through  the 
 waters  I  will  be  with  thee."  Surely,  then, 
 we  may  sing  with  David,  "  Though  I 
 walk  through  the  valley  and  shadow 
 of  death,  yet  will  I  fear  no  evil ;  for  'J'hou 
 art  with  me ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy  statf  they 
 comfort  me."     See  that  child  who  Las  to  go 
 
 through  a  dark  plantation  at  the  dead 
 hour  of  night.  Does  he  fear  ?  No. 
 Why  ?  Simply  because  his  father's  hand 
 is  locked  in  his.  The  presence  of  his 
 father  dismisses  liis  fears.  So,  when  we 
 are  in  the  hands  of  our  heavenly  Father 
 we  need  not  fear.  He  who  holds  up  worlds 
 can  surely  protect  us,  and  He  has  pledged 
 Himself  to  do  so  if  we  fully  trust  ourselves 
 to  Him.  Whiison, 
 
 DEATH— Happiness  in. 
 
 Miss  Emma  Tatham,  in  her  dying  hour, 
 is  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  happiness 
 of  the  Christian  at  such  a  time.  On  seeing 
 her  friends  weep  she  earnestly  said,  "  Do 
 not  weep,  do  not  weep.  O,  no  !  See,  how 
 happy  I  am  !  I  cannot  help  telling  you. 
 Blessed  Jesus  !  He  is  with  me ;  with  me ; 
 He  is  here.    Tell  my  dear  father : — 
 
 "  '  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
 Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are ; 
 
 Whilst  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 
 And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there." 
 
 Again  and  again  she  softly  repeated — 
 
 "'And  breathe    my  life    out    sweetly 
 there.'  " 
 
 "Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the 
 shadow  of  death  " — Mr.  Westbrook  quoted 
 Psalm  xxiii,  4, — "  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for 
 Thou  art  with  me  ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff" 
 comfort  me."  "  The  valley  !"  she  rejoined  ! 
 "it  is  not  dark,  Jesus  is  with  me.  This 
 is  the  happiest  time  of  my  life."  And 
 again  :  "  Is  this  dying  ?  Death  has  no  sting 
 for  me  ;  Christ  has  taken  it  away.  Glorious 
 — glorious — glorious  !  Come,  Lord  Jesus, 
 come  quickly  !  I  think  I  shall  die  with- 
 out much  pain  ;  but  if  not.  His  will  be 
 done.     I  have  not  a  single  fear ;    it  is  all 
 
 Joy" 
 
 Her  face  seemed  now  to  glow  with  more 
 radiance  that  ever ;  and  sitting  up  in  bed, 
 and  clapping  her  hands  in  an  ecstasy,  she 
 cried  out  aloud,  "Glory!  glory!  He  is 
 coming  !  I  shall  soon  be  with  Him.  I  am 
 so  happy  that  I  cannot  help  singing,  I 
 must,  I  cannot  help  it.  This,  this,  is  not 
 madness !  I  knoio  what  I  say."  Again, 
 "  Tell  my  dear  father  death  was  so  sweet. 
 Tell  him,  Jesus  was  with  me  all  through. 
 Tell  him  I  shall  soon  be  singing  sweeter 
 poetry.  Tell  him,  Christ  is  my  life. 
 Because  He  died,  I  shall  live, — lite 
 FOR  EVER  VFITH  HiM.  I  shall  sec  my  dear 
 aunt,  and  my  sweet  sister  Charlotte ;    and 
 
 it  shall  be  all  glory — glory Do 
 
 not  mind  if  you  see  me  change;  it  w'ill 
 soon  be  over."  Shortly  after  this  she 
 peacefully  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  with  the 
 words  "  Glory  !  glory  !"  on  her  dyina:  lips. 
 TFeslbroo/c. 
 
228 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 DEATH— Happy. 
 
 The  flowers  die  sweetly ;  wept  by  evening 
 
 dews 
 They  sigrh  out  their  fragrance ;   their  rich 
 
 souls 
 Breathing  away  in  balm,  and  one  by  one 
 The  delicate  petals  shrink  and  fold,  and 
 
 fell 
 Silently  on  the  grass;  struggle  is  none  ; 
 But  even  as  if  the  finger  of  peace, 
 With  fond  and  tender  touch,  dissolv'd  the 
 
 flower, 
 So  doth  it  die.     How  sweet   to   die   like 
 
 this! 
 The   soul   outbreath'd  as  incense   on  the 
 
 breast 
 Of  its  Redeemer,  softly,  silently. 
 Love  melted  in   the   heav'n-flood   of  His 
 
 smile.  Miss  Tatham. 
 
 DEATH— a  Haven. 
 
 When  the  dang'rous  rocks  are  past. 
 When  the  threatn'ing  tempests  cease, 
 
 Oh  !  how  sweet  to  rest  at  last 
 In  a  silent  port  of  peace ! 
 
 Though  that  port  may  be  unknown, 
 Tliough  no  chart  its  name  may  bear. 
 
 Brightly  beams  its  light  on  one. 
 Blest  to  find  his  refuge  there. 
 
 Life  !  thou  art  the  storm — the  rock ; 
 
 Death !  the  friendly  port  thou  art  j 
 Haven  from  the  tempest's  shock, 
 
 Welcoming  the  waud'rer's  heart. 
 
 Yes,  I  see  from  yonder  tomb 
 
 Promis'd  peace  and  tranquil  rest ; 
 
 Death !  ray  haven !     I  shall  come  : 
 Soothe  me  on  my  mother's  breast. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 What  is  death 
 To  him  who  meets  it   with  an  upright 
 
 heart  ? 
 A  quiet  haven,  where  his  shatter'd  bark 
 Harbours  secure,  till  the  rough  storm  is 
 
 past. 
 Perhaps  a  passage  overhung  with  clouds 
 But  at  its  entrance ;  a  few  leagues  beyond 
 Opening  to  kinder  skies,  and  milder  suns. 
 And   seas   pacific   as  the  soul  that  seeks 
 
 them.  Murdis. 
 
 DEATH— Humility  in. 
 
 "  I  die  in  all  humility,"  said  the  late 
 Queen  Dowager,  "  knowing  well  that  we 
 are  all  alike  before  the  Throne  of  God,  and 
 request,  therefore,  that  my  remains  be 
 conveyed  to  the  grave  without  any  pomp 
 or  state.  They  are  to  be  moved  to  St. 
 George's  Chapel,  Windsor,  where  I  request 
 to  have  as  private  and  quiet  a  funeral  as 
 possible. 
 
 "  I  particularly  desire  not  to  be  laid  out  in 
 state,  and  the  funeral  to  take  place  by  day- 
 
 light, no  procession,  the  coffin  to  be  carried 
 by  sailors  to  the  chapel." 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 DEATH— Ignoring. 
 
 God  never  mentions,  never  seems  to  con- 
 sider that  death — the  bodily,  the  natural 
 death.  God  doth  not  say,  live  well  and 
 thou  shalt  die  well,  that  is,  an  easy,  a  quiet 
 death ;  but  live  well  here  and  thou  shalt 
 live  well  for  ever.  As  the  first  part  of  a 
 sentence  pieces  well  with  the  last,  and 
 never  respects,  never  hearkens  after  the 
 parenthesis  that  comes  between,  so  doth 
 a  good  life  here  flow  into  an  eternal  life, 
 without  any  consideration  what  manner  of 
 death  we  die.  Dr.  Donne. 
 
 DEATH— Impending. 
 
 Death  approaches,  wliich  is  always  im- 
 pending over  us,  like  the  stone  over  Tan- 
 talus ;  then  comes  superstition,  with  which 
 he,  who  is  racked,  can  never  have  peace  of 
 mind.  Cicero. 
 
 And  all  you  men,  whom  greatness  does  so 
 
 please. 
 
 Ye  feast  (I  fear)  like  Damocles  : 
 
 If  you  your  eyes  could  upwards  move, 
 
 (But  you,  I  fear,  think  nothing  is  above,) 
 
 You  would  perceive  by  what  a  little  thread 
 
 The  sword  still  hangs  over  your  head. 
 No  tide  of  wine  could  drown  your  cares ; 
 No  mirth  or  music  over-noise  your  fears. 
 The  fear  of  death  would  you  so  watchful 
 
 keep. 
 As  not  to  admit  the  image  of  it,  sleep. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 DEATH— Inevitable. 
 
 "  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die  " 
 (Heb.  ix,  27).  It  is  laid  up  for  them,  as 
 parents  lay  up  for  their  children  :  they  may 
 look  for  it,  and  cannot  miss  it,  seeing  God 
 has  designed  and  reserved  it  for  them. 
 There  is  no  peradventure  in  it ;  "  we  must 
 needs  die "  (2  Sam.  xiv,  14).  Though 
 some  men  will  not  hear  of  death,  yet  every 
 man  must  "  see  death "  (Psa.  Ixxxix,  48). 
 Death  is  a  champion  all  must  grapple  with ; 
 we  must  enter  the  lists  with  it,  and  it  will 
 have  the  mastery  (Eccl.  viii,  8).  "  There 
 is  no  man  that  hath  power  over  the  spirit, 
 to  retain  the  spirit,  neither  hath  he  power 
 in  the  day  of  death."  T.  Boston. 
 
 DEATH— Insatiableness  of. 
 
 It  is  long  since  death  began  to  transport 
 men  into  another  world,  and  vast  shoals  or 
 multitudes  are  gone  thither  already,  yet 
 the  trade  is  going  on  still ;  death  is  carry- 
 ing off  new  inhabitants  daily,  to  the  "  house 
 appointed  for  all  living."  Who  could  ever 
 hear  the  grave  say.  It  is  enough  ?  Long 
 has  it  been  getting,  but  stUl  it  asketh. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
DEATH. 
 
 DEATH— Jesus  in. 
 
 If  the  approach  of  death  awaken  fear  in 
 you,  tell  Death,  that  you  are  bringing  the 
 Lord  Jesus  along  with  you,  and  Death, 
 like  Jordan  before  the  Ark,  will  put  back, 
 and  a  free  passage  will  open  before  you, 
 into  eternal  life.  "  What  ailest  thou,  0 
 Sea?  and  Jordan,  that  thou  art  driven 
 back  ?" 
 
 But  hide  Christ  in  thee,  indeed,  for  it 
 will  not  serve  to  say,  "  Lord,  Lord."  The 
 devils  will  leap  upon  thee  and  prevail  over 
 thee,  if  the  Lord  Jesus  be  only  on  thy 
 tongue,  and  not  present,  by  His  Holy 
 Spirit,  in  thy  soul.  If  Re  be  in  thee,  who 
 is  the  Light  of  Life,  very  Light  and  very 
 Life,  then,  when  the  candle-light  of  thy 
 body's  life  goes  out,  the  Sun-Light  of  thy 
 soul's  life  shall  be  bright  about  thee. 
 
 J.  FuUford. 
 
 DEATH— Knowing  Jesus  in. 
 
 A  young  American  minister  met  with  an 
 accident  that  speedily  brought  him  to  his 
 grave.  As  death  approached,  his  mind 
 began  to  wander ;  he  gave  strange  replies 
 to  those  who  questioned  him,  and  seemed 
 to  take  no  notice  of  those  who  carefully 
 tended  him.  Life  was  fast  failing.  His 
 friends  gathered  round  the  bed  to  take  a 
 last  farewell.  His  aged  father,  thinking 
 to  arouse  him,  asked,  "  Do  you  see  me,  my 
 dear  son?"  He  said,  "No."  "Do  you 
 hear  me  ?"  was  the  next  question.  Again, 
 he  replied,  "  No."  "  Do  you  know  your 
 father's  voice."  "  No."  His  sorrowing 
 wife  came  and  bent  over  hira  with  similar 
 questions,  but  he  did  not  heed  her.  Then 
 his  little  child  was  brought,  whose  arms 
 had  often  been  entwined  around  his  neck, 
 but  to  all  questions  relative  to  the  loved 
 cues  the  reply  was  still  "  No."  At  last  his 
 father  said,  "  My  darling  son,  do  you  know 
 Jesus  ?"  His  dim  eye  brightened  for  a 
 moment,  and  in  a  calm  clear  voice  he  re- 
 plied, "  Oh  yes  !  I  know  Jesus  !  I  have 
 a  steadfast  trust  in  Jesus."  One  hour  after 
 he  died.  S.  M.  HaugUon. 
 
 DEATH— a  Liberator. 
 
 Death  is  the  liberator  of  him  whom 
 freedom  cannot  release,  the  physician  of 
 him  whom  medicine  cannot  cure,  and  the 
 comforter  of  him  whom  time  cannot  con- 
 sole. C.  Colton. 
 
 Death  opens  the  gate  of  fame,  and  shuts 
 the  gate  of  envy  after  it ;  it  unlooses  the 
 chain  of  the  captive,  and  puts  the  bonds- 
 man's task  into  another  man's  hand. 
 
 J.  Sterne. 
 
 DEATH— Limited. 
 
 For  aught  we  know,  death  never  reaches 
 higher  than  this  earth  of  ours,  and  what  is  in 
 
 a  nearer  vicinity  to  itj  and  that,  therefore, 
 there  be  vast  and  ample  regions,  incom- 
 parably beyond  the  range  of  our  eye  or 
 thought,  where  now  no  death  ever  comes, 
 after  the  detrusion  of  the  first  revolters 
 from  those  bright  regions.         John  Howe. 
 
 DEATH— Loss  at. 
 
 Your  pleasing  consort  must  be  left. 
 And  you,  of  villas,  lauds,  bereft, 
 
 Must  to  the  shades  descend : 
 The  cypress  ouly,  hated  tree  ! 
 Of  all  thy  much-loved  groves,  shall  thee, 
 
 Its  short-lived  lord,  attend.      ^Sorace. 
 
 DEATH— Loyalty  in, 
 
 Dundee  in  leading  his  small  army  against 
 the  greater  numbers  of  the  English  at  the 
 Pass  of  Killicraukie,  a  shot  entered  between 
 the  joints  of  his  harness  and  carried  with  it 
 a  mortal  wound.  As  he  was  riding  off  the 
 field,  he  fainted,'  and  falling  from  his  horse 
 was  caught  in  the  arms  of  one  of  his 
 attendants.  Having  recovered  from  the 
 faintness,  he  desired  those  by  whom  he  was 
 surrounded  to  lift  him  up,  and  turning  his 
 eyes  to  the  field  of  combat,  he  inquired, 
 "  How  goes  the  day  ?"  to  which  he  received 
 the  answer  : — "  Well !  well  for  the  king." 
 With  true  magnanimity  and  calm  satisfac- 
 tion, he  said,  "  Then  I  am  well;"  and  ex- 
 pired. Dr.  Ferguson. 
 
 DEATH— Manner  of. 
 
 Upon  violent  deaths  inflicted  as  upon 
 malefactors,  Christ  Himself  hath  forbidden 
 us  by  His  own  death  to  make  any  ill  con- 
 clusion ;  for  His  own  death  had  these  im- 
 pressions in  it ;  He  was  reputed,  He  was 
 executed  as  a  malefactor,  and  no  doubt 
 many  of  them  who  concurred  to  His  death 
 did  believe  Him  to  be  so.  Of  sudden  death 
 there  are  scarce  examples  to  be  found  in 
 the  Scriptures  upon  good  men,  for  death 
 in  battle  cannot  be  called  sudden  death; 
 but  God  governs  not  by  examples  but  by 
 rules,  and  therefore  make  no  ill  conclusion 
 upon  sudden  death  nor  upon  distempers, 
 neither  though  perchance  accompanied 
 with  some  words  of  diffidence  and  distrust 
 in  God's  mercies.  The  tree  lies  as  it  falls 
 it  is  true,  but  it  is  not  the  last  stroke  that 
 fells  the  tree,  nor  the  last  word  nor  gasp 
 that  qualifies  the  soul.  Dr.  Donne. 
 
 DEATH— a  Messenger. 
 
 Death  is  an  inexorable,  irreslstable  mes- 
 senger, who  cannot  be  diverted  from  exe- 
 cuting his  orders  by  the  force  of  the 
 mighty,  the  bribes  of  the  rich,  nor  the 
 entreaties  of  the  poor.  T.  Boston. 
 
 Death  is  like  a  postman,  who  kno  ks 
 alike  at  the  door  of  rich  and  poor;  and 
 brings  to  this  man  wedding  cards,  and  to 
 his  neighbour  a  funeral  envelope;   to  one 
 
230 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 the  pleasant  news  that  his  richly  laden 
 vessel  has  arrived  in  port,  and  to  another 
 tidings  of  disaster  and  bankruptcy. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 DEATH— Mighty. 
 
 It  is,  therefore,  death  alone  that  can 
 suddenly  make  man  to  know  himself.  He 
 tells  the  proud  and  insolent  that  they  are 
 but  abjects,  and  humbles  them  at  the 
 instant,  makes  them  cry,  complain,  and 
 repent ;  yea,  even  to  hate  their  forepassed 
 happiness.  He  takes  the  account  of  the 
 rich,  and  proves  him  a  beggar,  a  naked 
 beggar,  which  hath  interest  in  nothing, 
 but  in  the  gravel  that  fills  his  mouth.  He 
 holds  a  glass  before  the  eyes  of  the  most 
 beautiful,  and  makes  them  see  their  de- 
 formity and  rottenness,  and  they  acknow- 
 ledge it.  O  eloquent,  just,  and  mighty 
 Death !  whom  none  could  advise,  thou 
 hast  persuaded;  what  none  hath  dared, 
 thou  hast  done ;  and  whom  all  the  world 
 hath  flattered,  thou  alone  hast  cast  out  of 
 the  world  and  despised.  Thou  hast  drawn 
 together  all  the  far  stretched  greatness,  all 
 the  pride,  cruelty,  and  ambition  of  man, 
 and  covered  it  all  over  with  these  two 
 narrow  words.  Hie  jacet. 
 
 Sir  W.  HaleigTi. 
 
 DEATH— Ministers  of. 
 
 Foremost,  Old  Age,  his  natural  ally 
 
 And  firmest  friend ;    next   him    diseases 
 
 thick, 
 A  motley  train  ;  Fever,  with  cheek  of  fire ; 
 Consumption  wan ;  Palsy,  half  warm  with 
 
 life. 
 And  half  a  clay -cold  lump  j  joint  tort'ring 
 
 gout. 
 And    ever-gnawing    Eheum;    Convulsion 
 
 wild ; 
 Swoln  Dropsy;  panting  Asthma;  Apoplex 
 Full   gorg'd.      There   too    the   Pestilence 
 
 that  walks 
 In  darkness,  and  the  sickness  that  destroys 
 At  broad  noon-day.    These,  and  a  thousand 
 
 more. 
 Horrid  to  tell,  attentive  wait ;  and,  when 
 By  Heaven's   command  Death  waves   his 
 
 ebon  wand. 
 Sudden  rush  forth  to  execute  his  purpose. 
 And  scatter  desolation  o'er  the  earth. 
 
 Forteus. 
 
 DEATH— Mysterious. 
 
 Death  has  a  deep  meaning  and  many 
 issues.  We  cannot  by  our  searching  find 
 it  out.  None  of  us  have  seen  its  other 
 side.  Death  is  like  a  mighty  angel,  with 
 one  foot  standing  on  time,  and  another  on 
 eternity.  Arnot. 
 
 DEATH— Natural. 
 
 It  is  as  natural  to  die  as  to  be  born  ;  and 
 to  a  little  infent,  perhaps,  the  one  is  as 
 
 painful  as  the  other. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 
 DEATH— Nearness  to. 
 
 AVliat  is  said  to  the  mariner,  in  respect 
 to  his  ship,  that  he  always  sails  witliin 
 four  inches  of  death,  that  may  be  said  of 
 the  soul  in  relation  to  the  body,  that  it 
 is  always  within  four  inches  of  eternity. 
 If  the  ship  splits,  then  the  sailor  sinks ;  if 
 our  earthly  vessel  break,  the  soul  is  gone, 
 plunged  for  ever  in  the  bottomless  sea,  and 
 bankless  ocean  of  eternity.  This  is  the 
 soul,  therefore,  that  I  desire  to  weep  over, 
 that  shall  precipitately  launch  into  the 
 deep,  before  he  knows  whether  he  shall 
 sink  or  swim.  Anon. 
 
 DEATH— Necessity  of. 
 
 When  I  die,  the  centre  of  a  widely  exten- 
 ded family  will  be  taken  away,  and  yet  it  is 
 scarcely  desirable  that  such  a  centre  should 
 continue  very  long  after  one's  children 
 have  acquired  a  position  of  their  own.  They 
 will  each  form  their  own  new  and  special 
 circles  in  the  time  to  come.  But  while  an 
 old  man,  with  the  remains  of  his  former 
 strength,  sits  on  in  the  centre,  a  thousand 
 concessions  are  made  to  him  by  all  the 
 other  families ;  and  horns  are  drawn  in, 
 which  are  intended  to  be  thrust  with 
 vigour,  or  to  be  rubbed  off",  as  the  case  may 
 be.  The  old  must  give  place  to  the  new. 
 And  as  to  the  graybeard  himself;  when 
 time  has  tugged  at  us  long,  we  cease  to  do 
 more  than  vegetate ;  we  become  a  burden 
 to  ourselves  and  to  others;  and  what  is 
 worst  of  all,  we  get  a  horrible  longing  for  a 
 still  longer  life.  When  I  look  at  many  old 
 men  around,  I  am  reminded  of  Fredei-ick 
 the  Great's  expostulation  with  his  grena- 
 diers, who  demurred  at  going  to  a  certain 
 death,  "  What,  you  dogs  I  Would  you  go  on 
 living  for  ever  ?"  Ferthes. 
 
 DEATH— Peaceful. 
 
 How  often  is  the  believer's  death-bed 
 like  the  deep  calm  repose  of  a  summer- 
 evening  sky,  when  all  nature  is  hushed  to 
 rest;  the  departing  soul,  like  the  vanish- 
 ing sun,  peacefully  disappearing  only  to 
 shine  in  another  and  brighter  hemisphere  ! 
 "  I  seem,"  said  Simeon  on  his  death-bed, 
 "  to  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait ;  there 
 is  now  nothing  but  peace,  the  sweetest 
 peace."  J.  A.  Macduff. 
 
 The  babe  dies  peacefully  in  the  warm  arms 
 Of  its  sweet  mother,  while  the  glowing  life 
 Of  the  fond  heart  whereto  she  presses  it 
 Half  binds  the  fluttering  dove  to  its  white 
 
 cage. 
 And  keeps  the  pulse  at  play.    0,  she  would 
 
 pour 
 Her  own  life  into  the  cold  cold  babe  with 
 
 .joy ! 
 Therefore  she  binds  him  so  about  her  heart 
 To  make  him   still  live  on,  thinking  tc 
 
 blend 
 
DEATH. 
 
 231 
 
 Her  being  with  the  babe :  but  lo !  the  bud 
 Of  immortality,  nursed  in  her  breast, 
 Has  blossomed  into  heaven.  So  let  ME  die 
 Where  the  warm  life  of  Jesus  shall  inspire 
 My  fainting  spirit,  and  His  heart  shall  beat 
 New  pulses  into  mine  !  Miss  Tatham. 
 
 DEATH— Power  of. 
 
 The  power  of  death  is  infinite  to  the 
 human  conception,  though  limited  to  the 
 Divine.  What  power,  save  the  power  of 
 God,  is  more  than  a  match  for  it  ?  Do 
 you  speak  of  the  power  of  money  ?  The 
 power  of  death  is  greater.  The  power  of 
 eloquence — the  power  of  ambition — the 
 power  of  pliysie — the  power  of  love — the 
 ])Ovver  of  life — the  power  of  armies — of 
 Alexander  —  of  Cassar — of  Napoleon  —  of 
 Wellington,  &c. — the  power  of  wisdom — 
 the  power  of  nations — the  power  of  kings, 
 emperors,  legislators,  warriors,  heroes, 
 orators?  The  power  of  death  is  gi-eater 
 than  they  all  combined.  They  have  all 
 bended  and  given  way  beneath  his  iron 
 rule  of  might.  Death  is  stronger  than  all 
 the  untold  myriads  of  human  beings,  irra- 
 tional animals,  and  animate  existences, 
 which  have  lived  in  thei  ages  of  the  past. 
 They  have  all  fallen  before  the  sweep  of  his 
 iri-esistible  arm ;  and  he  holds  them  down 
 under  his  dominion  of  corruption.  And 
 with  all  the  unprecedented  forces  which 
 the  present  teeming  population  of  the 
 world  is  putting  forth,  in  ten  thousand 
 ways,  death  shall  prove  himself  more  than 
 conqueror  over  them ;  and  they  too  shall 
 be  brought  into  his  dark  domain.  And 
 what  death  has  done  in  the  past,  and  shall 
 do  in  the  present,  he  shall  do  in  the  future. 
 But  great  as  is  the  power  of  death,  death 
 shall  be  destroyed  by  Him  who  is  stronger 
 — Jesus  Clirist.  John  Bate. 
 
 DEATH— Preaching  in. 
 
 An  infidel  during  his  sickness  became 
 convinced  of  his  wretched  condition,  and 
 by  the  assistance  of  a  Sabbath-school 
 teacher  was  led  to  the  Saviour,  and  found 
 salvation  in  His  blood.  After  the  change 
 wliich  had  passed  in  his  heart,  he  often 
 spoke  of  the  Saviour's  love,  and  the  heaven 
 into  which  he  hoped  soon  to  enter.  Find- 
 ing his  life  rapidly  drawing  to  a  close,  he 
 iirged  the  teacher  to  proceed  in  his  glorious 
 work  of  doing  good ;  then  opening  his  bed- 
 room window,  which  overlooked  a  bustling 
 and  crowded  thoroughfare,  as  he  gazed  on 
 the  human  forms  beneath,  summoning  his 
 last  remaining  strength,  he  cried  at  the 
 top  of  his  voice,  "  Theee  is  mercy  joe 
 all!     Noxe   need  despair,  since  I,  A 
 
 POOR    INIFIDEL,  HAVE    OBTAINED    MERCY." 
 
 This,  his  last  work,  accomplished,  exhausted 
 by  the  effort,  he  fell  back  on  his  bed,  and 
 instantly  died.  S.  M.  Raughton. 
 
 DEATH — Premature. 
 
 A  lily  of  the  field,  when  its  root  is  cut 
 away  by  the  ploughshare,  being  no  longer 
 supported  by  the  stalk,  languishes  upon 
 the  ground;  and  though  it  does  not  imme- 
 diately lose  all  the  lustre  of  its  beauty,  yet 
 it  is  no  more  nourished  by  the  earth,  nor 
 quickened  by  a  vital  principle;  thus  fell 
 the  son  of  Idomeneus,  cut  down,  like  a 
 flower,  by  an  untimely  stroke,  in  the  first 
 bloom  of  his  youth.  Fenevon. 
 
 DEATH — Premonitions  of. 
 
 The  first  symptom  of  approaching  death 
 with  some,  is  the  strong  presentiment  that 
 they  are  about  to  die.  Oganan,  the  mathe- 
 matician, while  in  apparent  health,  rejected 
 pupils  from  the  feeling  that  he  was  on  the 
 eve  of  resting  from  his  labours ;  and  he 
 expired  soon  after,  of  an  apoplectic  stroke. 
 
 Fletcher,  the  divine,  had  a  dream  which 
 shadowed  out  his  impending  dissolution, 
 and  believing  it  to  be  the  merciful  warning 
 of  Heaven,  he  sent  for  a  sculptor  and  or- 
 dered his  tomb.  "  Begin  your  work  forth- 
 with," he  said  at  parting ;  "  there  is  no 
 time  to  lose."  And  unless  the  artist  had 
 obeyed  the  admonition,  death  would  have 
 proved  the  quicker  workman  of  the  two. 
 
 Mozart  wrote  his  Requiem  under  the  con- 
 viction that  the  monument  he  was  raising 
 to  his  genius,  would,  by  the  power  of  asso- 
 ciation, prove  a  universal  monument  to  his 
 remains.  When  life  was  fleeting  very  fast, 
 he  called  for  the  score,  and  musing  over 
 it,  said,  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  truly  that  it 
 was  for  myself  that  I  composed  this  death 
 chant."  Another  great  artist  in  a  different 
 department,  convinced  that  his  hand  was 
 about  to  lose  its  cunning,  chose  a  subject 
 emblematical  of  the  coming  event.  His 
 friends  inquired  the  nature  of  his  next  de- 
 sign ;  and  Hogarth  replied,  "  The  end  of 
 all  things."  "  In  that  case,"  rejoined  one, 
 "  there  will  be  an  end  of  the  painter." 
 What  was  uttered  in  jest  was  answered  in 
 earnest,  with  a  solemn  look  and  heavy  sigh  : 
 "  There  will,"  he  said ;  "  and  the  sooner  my 
 work  is  done  the  better."  He  commenced 
 next  day,  laboured  upon  it  with  unremit- 
 ting diligence,  and  when  he  had  given  it 
 the  last  touch,  seized  his  pallet,  broke  it  in 
 pieces  and  said :  "  I  have  finished."  The 
 print  was  published  in  March  under  the 
 title  of  "  Finis;"  and  in  October,  the  cu- 
 rious eyes  which  saw  the  manners  in  the 
 face  were  closed  in  the  dust.  Our  ances- 
 tors, who  prone  to  look  in  the  air  tor 
 causes  which  were  to  be  found  upon  the 
 earth,  attributed  these  intimations  to  va- 
 rious supernatural  agencies. 
 
 John  Hunter  solved  the  mysterj%  if  so  it 
 can  be  called,  in  a  single  sentence.  "  We 
 sometimes,"  he  says,  "  feel  within  ourselves 
 that  we  shall  not  live ;  for  the  living  powers 
 
232 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 become  weak,  and  the  nerves  eommunicate 
 the  intelligence  to  the  brain."  His  own 
 case  has  often  been  cjuoted  among  the  mai'- 
 vels  of  which  he  offered  this  rational  ex- 
 planation. He  intimated,  on  leaving  home, 
 that  if  a  discussion  which  awaited  him  at 
 the  hospital  took  an  angry  turn,  it  would 
 prove  his  death.  A  colleague  gave  him  the 
 lie ;  the  coarse  word  verified  tlie  prophecy, 
 and  he  expired  almost  immediately,  in  an 
 adjoining  room.  There  was  everything  to 
 lament  in  the  circumstance,  but  nothing  at 
 which  to  wonder,  except  that  any  i)crson 
 could  show  such  disrespect  to  the  great 
 genius,  a  single  year  of  whose  existence 
 was  worth  the  united  lives  of  his  oppo- 
 nents. Hunter,  in  uttering  the  prediction, 
 had  only  to  take  counsel  in  his  own  expe- 
 rience, without  the  intervention  of  invisible 
 spirits.  He  had  long  laboured  under  a  dis- 
 ease of  the  heart,  and  he  felt  the  disorder 
 had  reached  the  point  at  which  any  sharp 
 agitation  would  bring  on  the  crisis. 
 
 Circumstances,  which  at  another  time 
 would  excite  no  attention,  are  accepted  as 
 an  omen  when  health  is  failing.  The  order 
 for  the  Rcipiiem  with  Mozart,  the  dream 
 with  Fletcher,  turned  the  current  of  their 
 thoughts  to  the  grave. 
 
 Foote,  jirior  to  his  departure  for  the  con- 
 tinent, stood  contemplating  the  picture  of 
 a  brother  author,  and  exclaimed,  his  eyes 
 full  of  tears,  "Poor  Weston!"  In  the 
 same  dejected  tone  he  added,  after  a  pause, 
 "  soon  others  shall  say.  Poor  Foote  !"  And 
 to  the  surprise  of  his  friends,  a  few  days 
 proved  the  justice  of  his  prognostication. 
 The  expectation  of  the  event  had  a  share 
 in  producing  it,  for  a  slight  shock  com- 
 l)letes  the  destruction  of  prostrate  ener- 
 gies. 
 
 The  case  of  Wolsey  was  singular.  The 
 morning  before  he  died,  he  asked  Caven- 
 dish the  hour,  and  was  answered  "past 
 eight."  "Eight  of  the  clock!"  replied 
 Wolsey,  "that  cannot  be;— eight  of  the 
 clock,  nay,  nay,  it  cannot  be  eight  of  the 
 clock,  for  by  eight  of  the  clock  shall  you 
 lose  your  master."  The  day  he  miscalcu- 
 lated, the  hour  came  true;  on  the  follow- 
 ing morning,  as  the  clock  struck  eight,  his 
 troubled  spirit  passed  from  life.  Caven- 
 dish and  the  bystanders,  thought  he  must 
 ^ave  had  a  revelation  of  the  time  of  liis 
 death  ;  and  from  the  way  in  which  the 
 fact  had  taken  possession  of  his  mind,  we 
 suspect  that  he  relied  on  astrological  pre- 
 diction, which  had  the  credit  of  a  revelation 
 ill  his  own  esteem.  Persons  in  healtli  have 
 died  from  the  expectation  of  dying.  It  was 
 connnon  for  those  who  jjcrished  by  violence 
 to  summon  their  destroyers  to  appear, 
 •="  a  stated  time,  before  the  tribunal 
 
 withi 
 
 of  their  God ;  and  we  have  many  perfectly 
 attested  instances  in  which,  through,  fear 
 and   remorse,   the    perpetrators    withered 
 
 under  the  curse,  and  died.  Pestilence  does 
 not  kill  with  the  rapidity  of  terror. 
 
 Th-e  profligate  abbess  of  a  convent,  the 
 Princess  Gonzaga  of  Cleves,  and  Guise,  the 
 profligate  Archbishop  of  Ilheims,  took  it 
 into  their  heads,  for  a  jest,  to  visit  one  of 
 the  nuns  by  night,  and  exhort  her  as  a 
 person  who  was  visibly  dying. 
 
 While  in  the  performance  of  this  heart- 
 less scheme,  they  whispered  to  each  other, 
 "  She  is  departing."  She  departed  in 
 earnest.  Her  vigor,  instead  of  detecting 
 the  trick,  sank  beneath  the  alarm  ;  and 
 the  profane  pair  discovered,  in  the  midst 
 of  their  sport,  that  they  were  making 
 merry  with  a  corpse.  T.  Walker. 
 
 DEATH— Preparation  for. 
 
 When  yon  lie  down  at  night  compose 
 your  spirits,  as  if  you  were  not  to  awake 
 till  the  heavens  be  no  more.  And  when 
 you  awake  in  the  morning  consider  that 
 new  day  as  your  last,  and  live  accordingly. 
 Surely  that  night  cometh  of  which  you  will 
 never  see  the  morning,  or  that  morning  of 
 which  yon  will  never  see  the  night ;  but 
 which  of  your  mornings  or  nights  will  be 
 such  you  know  not.  Let  the  mantle  of 
 worldly  enjoyments  hang  loose  about  you, 
 that  it  may  be  easily  dropped  when  death 
 comes  to  carry  you  into  another  world. 
 When  the  corn  is  forsaking  the  ground  it 
 is  ready  for  the  sickle ;  when  the  fruit  is 
 ripe  it  falls  off  the  tree  easily.  So  when  a 
 Christian's  heart  is  truly  weaned  from  the 
 world,  he  is  prepared  for  death,  and  it  will 
 be  the  more  easy  for  him.  A  heart  disen- 
 gaged from  the  world  is  a  heavenly  one, 
 and  then  we  are  ready  for  heaven  when 
 our  heart  is  there  before  us.  Barton. 
 
 So  live  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to 
 
 join 
 The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves 
 To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall 
 
 take 
 His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death. 
 Thou  go  not  like  the  quarry  slave  at  night, 
 Scourged   to  his  dungeon;   but  sustained 
 
 and  soothed 
 By   an    unfaltering    trust,    approach    thy 
 
 grave 
 Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his 
 
 couch 
 About    him,   and    lies  down   to    pleasant 
 
 dreams.  W.  C.  Br t/ ant. 
 
 Rabbi  EHezer  said,  "  Turn  to  God  one 
 day  before  your  death."  His  disciples 
 said,  "  How  can  a  man  know  the  day  ol 
 his  death  ?"  He  answered  them,  "There* 
 fore  you  should  turn  to  God  to-day.  Per- 
 haps you  may  die  to-morrow ;  thus  ever* 
 day  will  be  employed  in  returning." 
 
 J.  WMtecross, 
 
DEATH, 
 
 DEATH— Prospect  ot. 
 
 Yes,  'tis  the  hand 
 Of  death  I  feel  press  heavy  on  my  vitals, 
 Slow  sapping  the  warm  current  of  existence. 
 My  moments  now  are  few — the  sand  of  life 
 Ebbs  fostly  to  its  finish.     Yet  a  little, 
 And  the  last  fleetinj^  particle  will  fall 
 Silent,  unseen,  unnoticed,  unlamented. 
 Come,  then,  sad  Thought,  and  let  us  medi- 
 tate. 
 While  meditate  we  may.     We  have  now 
 But  a  small  portion  of  what  men  call  time 
 To  hold   communion;   for  even   now  the 
 
 knife. 
 The  separating  knife,  I  feel  divide 
 The  tender  bond  that  binds  my  soul  to 
 
 earth. 
 Yes,  I  must  die — I  feel  that  I  must  die; 
 And  though  to  me  has  life  been  dark  and 
 
 dreary. 
 Though  Hope  for  me  has  smiled  but  to 
 
 deceive. 
 And    dissappointment    still    pursued    her 
 
 blandishments. 
 Yet  do  I  feel  my  soul  recoil  within  me 
 As  I  contemplate  the  dim  gulf  of  death, 
 The  shuddering  void,  the  awful  blank — 
 
 futurity. 
 Ay,  I  had  planned  full  many  a  sanguine 
 
 scheme 
 Of  earthly  happiness — romantic  schemes, 
 And  fraught  with  loveliness;  and  it  is  hard 
 To  feel  the  hand  of  death  arrest  one's  steps 
 Throw  a  chill  blight  o'er  all  one's  budding 
 
 hopes, 
 And  hurl  one's  soul  untimely  to  the  shades, 
 Lost  in  the  gaping  gulf  of  blank  oblivion. 
 Fifty  years   hence,  and  who  will  hear  of 
 
 Henry  ? 
 Oh  !  none ; — another  busy  brood  of  beings 
 Will  shoot  up  in  the  interim,  and  none 
 Will  hold  him  in  remembrance'.     I  shall 
 
 sink 
 As  sinks  a  stranger  in  the  crowded  streets 
 Of    busy    London : — some    short    bustles 
 
 caused, 
 A  few  inquiries,  and  the  crowds  close  in, 
 And  all's  forgotten.  S.  K.  White. 
 
 DEATH— Ready  for. 
 
 A  lady  once  said  to  Mr.  Wesley,  "  Sup- 
 posing tliat  you  knew  you  were  to  die  at 
 12  o'clock  to-morrow  niglit,  how  would 
 you  spend  the  intervening  time  ?"  "  How, 
 madam  ?"  he  replied ;  "  why,  just  as  I 
 intend  to  spend  it  now.  I  should  preach 
 this  evening  at  Gloucester,  and  again  at 
 five  to-morrow  morning;  after  tliat  I 
 should  ride  to  Tewkesbury,  preach  in  the 
 afternoon,  and  meet  the  societies  in  the 
 evening.  I  should  then  repair  to  friend 
 Martin's  who  expects  to  entertain  me, 
 converse  and  pray  with  the  family  as 
 usual,  retire  to  my  room  at  ten  o'clock,  I 
 
 commend  myself  to  my  heavenly  Father, 
 lie  down  to  rest,  and  wake  up  in  glory." 
 
 Dr.  Stevens, 
 
 DEATH— a  Rent-day. 
 
 We  know,  0  Lord,  that  our  rent  due  to 
 Thee  is  our  soul,  and  the  day  of  our  death 
 is  the  day,  and  oixr  death-bed  the  place, 
 where  this  rent  is  to  be  paid.  And  we 
 know  too,  that  he  that  hath  sold  liis  soul 
 for  unjust  gain,  or  given  away  his  soul 
 before  in  society  and  fellowship  of  sin,  or 
 lent  away  his  soul  for  a  time  by  a  luke- 
 warmness  and  temporising  to  the  dishonour 
 of  Thy  name,  to  the  weakness  of  Thy 
 cause,  to  the  discouraging  of  Thy  servants, 
 he  comes  to  that  day  and  to  that  place, 
 his  death  and  death-bed,  without  any  rent 
 in  his  hand,  without  any  soul,  to  this  pur- 
 pose, to  surrender  it  unto  Thee. 
 
 Dr.  Donne. 
 
 DEATH— of  the  Righteous. 
 
 How  blest  the  righteous  when  he  dies ! 
 
 When  sinks  a  weary  soul  to  rest. 
 How  mildly  beam  the  closing  eyes ; 
 
 How  gently  heaves  the  expiring  breast ! 
 So  fades  a  summer-cloud  away; 
 
 So  sinks  the  gale  when  storms  are  o'er; 
 So  gently  shuts  the  eye  of  day; 
 
 So  dies  a  wave  along  the  shore." 
 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 
 The  Christian,  at  his  death,  should  not 
 be  like  the  child  who  is  forced  by  the  rod 
 to  quit  his  play,  but  like  the  one  who  is 
 wearied  of  it,  and  willing  to  go  to  bed. 
 Neither  ought  he  to  be  like  the  mariner, 
 whose  vessel,  by  the  violence  of  the  tem- 
 pest, is  drifted  from  the  shore,  tossed  to 
 and  fro  upon  the  ocean,  and  at  last  suffers 
 wreck  and  destruction ;  but  like  one  who 
 is  ready  for  the  voyage,  and  the  moau'nt 
 the  wind  is  favorable,  cheerfully  weigiis 
 anchor,  and,  full  of  hope  and  joy,  launches 
 forth  into  the  deep.  The  pious  monk, 
 Stanpitz,  says,  "  Die  as  Christ  did,  and 
 then,  beyond  all  doubt,  your  death  will  be 
 good  and  blessed."  But  how,  then,  did 
 Christ  die  ?  "  No  man,"  he  Himself  says, 
 "taketh  my  life  from  me,  but  I  lay  it 
 down  of  myself."  And  St.  Luke  tells  us 
 that  "  when  the  time  was  come  that  He 
 should  be  received  up.  He  steadfastly  set 
 His  face  to  go  to  .lerusalem ;"  that  is.  He 
 took  the  way  to  it  with  a  confident  and 
 cheerful  heart,  and  an  intrepid  look.  Let 
 us  follow  this  great  Forerunner ;  and,  that 
 we  may  do  it  with  alacrity  and  confidence, 
 and  be  at  all  times  ready,  let  us  so  order 
 our  att'airs,  that,  when  we  come  to  die,  toe 
 may  have  nothing  else  to  do.  Ooithold. 
 
 As  the  silvery  evening  star  hangs  qui- 
 vering over  the  grave  of  the  sun,  and  is 
 
234 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 ihrf  same  planet  which  sometimes  precedes 
 h'S  reappeaiance  in  the  morning,  so  does 
 the  star  of  faith  shine  out  in  the  darlien- 
 ing  sky  of  a  Christian's  departing  life, 
 and  speak  of  a  future  "  rising  in  brighter 
 array."  Faith  and  Hope  stand  beside  that 
 couch  of  pain  and  weakness,  as  the  two 
 angels  clothed  in  white  stood  in  Jesus' 
 sepulchre.  Anon. 
 
 How  sweet  the  hour  of  closing  day, 
 
 When  all  is  peaceful  and  serene. 
 And  when  the  sun,  with  cloudless  ray, 
 
 Sheds  mellow  lustre  o'er  the  scene. 
 Such  is  the  Christian's  parting  hour : 
 
 So  peacefully  he  sinks  to  rest, 
 When   faith,    endued   from    heaven   with 
 power. 
 
 Sustains  and  cheers  his  languid  breast. 
 Mark  but  that  radiance  of  his  eye. 
 
 That  smile  upon  his  wasted  cheek ; 
 They  tell  us  of  his  glory  nigh. 
 
 In  language  that  no  tongue  can  speak. 
 A  beam  from  heaven  is  sent  to  cheer 
 
 The  pilgrim  on  his  gloomy  road; 
 And  angels  are  attending  near, 
 
 To  bear  him  to  their  bright  abode. 
 
 Who  would  not  wish  to  die  like  those 
 Whom  God's  own  Spirit  deigns  to  bless  ? 
 
 To  ?ink  into  that  soft  repose. 
 
 Then  wake  to  pei'fect  happiness  ? 
 
 JBathursi. 
 
 Death  comes  at  Christ's  command  to  call 
 the  believer  to  Himself;  and  grim  and 
 ghastly  though  be  the  look  of  the  messen- 
 ger, surely  that  may  well  be  welcome  in 
 the  sweetness  of  the  message  he  brings. 
 Death  comes  to  set  the  spirit  free ;  and 
 rude  though  be  the  hand  that  knocks  off 
 the  fetters,  and  painful  though  be  the 
 process  of  liberation,  what  need  the  pri- 
 soner care  for  that,  when  it  is  to  freedom, 
 life,  home,  he  is  about  to  be  emancipated  ? 
 Death  strikes  the  hour  of  the  soul's  ever- 
 lasting espousals,  and  though  the  sound 
 may  be  harsh,  what  matters  that?  To 
 common  ears  it  may  seem  a  death-knell,  to 
 the  ear  of  faith  it  is  a  bridal  peal. 
 
 Dr.  Caird. 
 DEATH— of  a  Saint. 
 
 What  is  the  decease  of  a  saint,  but  a 
 translation  out  of  a  valley  of  death,  a 
 Golgotha,  a  place  of  skulls,  a  region  where 
 death  reigns,  into  the  region  of  perfect  and 
 everlasting  life  ?  It  is  not  to  be  called 
 death  simply  or  absolutely,  but  with  di- 
 minution; it  is  only  death  in  a  certain 
 respect ;  when,  in  a  higher  and  much  more 
 considerable  respect,  it  is  a  birth  rather, 
 a  dying  out  of  one  world,  and  a  being  born 
 at  the  same  time  into  another,  a  much 
 more  lightsome,  a  purer  and  more  glorious 
 world.     The  soul  is  cured  in  a  moment  of 
 
 whatsoever  was  grievous  or  afflicting  to  it ; 
 and  the  body  put  into  a  certain  way  of 
 cure — of  being  made,  from  an  earthly, 
 mean,  mortal  thing,  heavenly,  spiritual, 
 incorruptible,  and  immortal.     John  Roioe. 
 
 DEATH  AND  SIN. 
 
 Men  sometimes  are  so  foolish  as  to  deny 
 that  there  ever  was  a  flood  which  drowned 
 all  the  world  in  a  few  days ;  but  they  can- 
 not deny  that  death  now  sweeps  off  the 
 whole  world  once  in  about  thirty  years. 
 Go  to  that  churchyard  yonder.  How  full 
 of  graves  !  You  tread  on  some  sleeper  at 
 every  step.  Who  slew  all  these  ?  Sup- 
 pose you  should  go  to  a  great  prison,  full 
 of  little  cells,  and  every  one  cell  had  a 
 prisoner  chained  in  it,  and  the  number  was 
 as  great  as  the  number  of  graves  in  that 
 churchyard.  Would  you  not  think  to 
 yourself,  "Here  must  be  a  great  deal  of 
 guilt  and  sin,  in  order  to  fill  all  these 
 cells  ?"  And  the  churchyard  is  the  prison- 
 house  where  God  has  confined  so  many 
 prisoners.  There  is  no  grave  in  heaven, 
 and  there  never  would  have  been  one  on 
 earth,  had  it  not  been  for  sin. 
 
 I>r.  J.  Todd. 
 
 Sin  is  represented  as  addressing  itself  to 
 Satan,  pointing  to  death  as  her  oflspring, 
 begotten  of  him : — 
 
 At  last  this  odious  offspring  whom  thou 
 
 seest. 
 Thine  own  begotten,  breaking  violent  way. 
 Tore  through  my  entrails,  that  with  fear 
 
 and  pain 
 Distorted  all  my  nether  shape  thus  grew 
 Transform'd,  brandishing  his  fatal  dart 
 Made  to  destroy :    I  fled,  and   cried   out 
 
 Death :  [sighed 
 
 Hell  trembled  at  the  hideous  name,  and 
 From  all  her  caves,  and  back  resounded, 
 
 Death.  Milton. 
 
 DEATH— a  Sleep. 
 
 I.  Sleep  is  rest,  or  gives  rest  to  the 
 body :  so  death  is  or  doth  give  rest  to  the 
 body; — (1)   Rest  from  labour  and  travel. 
 
 (2)  Rest    from    trouble    and    opposition. 
 
 (3)  Rest  frbm  passion  and  grief.  (4)  Rest 
 from  sin,  temptation,  Satan,  and  the  law. 
 
 II.  Sleep  is  not  perpetual ;  we  sleep  and 
 wake  again;  so,  though  the  body  lie  in 
 the  grave,  yet  death  is  but  a  sleep;  we 
 shall  wake  again  in  the  morning  of  the 
 resurrection. 
 
 III.  The  sleep  of  some  men  differs  very 
 much  from  that  of  others  :  so  the  death  of 
 saints    differs   from    that   of    the    wicked. 
 
 (1)  Some  men  sleep  before  their  work  is 
 done;  so  there  are  some  men  die  before 
 the  work  of  their  salvation  is  wrought  out. 
 
 (2)  Some  men  fall  asleep  in  business  and 
 in  great  distraction,  while  others  sleep  in 
 
DEATH. 
 
 235 
 
 peace ;  so  some  wicked  men  die  in  great 
 distraction  of  mind,  under  the  liorrors  of 
 conscience,  while  others  die  in  a  cahn, 
 sweet,  and  heavenly  manner.  (3)  Some 
 men  fear  to  sleep  because  of  the  peculiar 
 dangers  to  which  they  may  be  exposed ; 
 so  some  wicked  men  dread  the  thought  of 
 dying  because  of  the  dangers  which  follow. 
 But  saints  have  no  fear  of  death.  (4) 
 Some  men  fall  asleep  in  dangerous  places, 
 and  in  the  midst  of  their  enemies:  so 
 some  men  die  on  the  brink  of  hell,  and 
 are  surrounded  with  the  spirits  of  per- 
 dition. But  saints  die  in  the  view  of 
 Jesus ;  in  the  love  of  Jesus ;  in  the  cove- 
 nant of  Jesus, 
 
 IV.  A  man  that  sleeps  is  generally 
 easily  awoke :  so  the  body  in  death  shall 
 be  much  more  easily  awoke  at  the  last  day 
 than  the  soul  can  now  he  awoke  from  its 
 sleep  of  sin.  B.  Keach. 
 
 And  while  the  soul  shall  pass  to  God,  to 
 enter  on  the  rest  of  glory,  the  mortal 
 body  has  its  rest  no  less,  sleeping  peace- 
 fully till  the  resurrection  day.  And  when 
 the  green  grass  of  another  June  waves 
 over  us;  when  the  soft  summer  wind  of 
 another  June  sighs  through  the  green 
 leaves;  when  the  sunshine  of  some  more 
 genial  longest  day  shall  brighten  cheerfully 
 the  stone  which  may  bear  our  name  and 
 yours;  what  better  can  we  wish,  than  that 
 if  we  leave  behind  us  those  who  may  some- 
 times visit  the  quiet  spot,  they  may  be 
 able  to  say,  humbly  and  hopefully.  Surely 
 here,  at  last ;  and  surely  there,  in  a  better 
 place;  the  weary  heart  and  hand  are  still; 
 yea,  surely  God  "  bath  given  His  beloved, 
 sleep  ?"  Iladame  de  Gas}iarin. 
 
 The   Christian    sleeps — in   Jesus — blessed 
 
 thought ! 
 Hush,  mourners !  though  ye  could,  awake 
 
 him  not ! 
 Would  ye  recall  him  from  the  home  of  bliss, 
 The  "  better  counti-y,"  to  a  land  like  this  ? 
 To  weep  as  we  are  weeping — all  our  pain, 
 Temptations,  conflicts,  to  endure  again  ? 
 No,  brother!  slumber  now,  and  take  thy  rest 
 In  the  low  sleeping  place  which  Christ  has 
 
 bless'd. 
 Till  the  great  Easter  morning  light  the 
 
 skies. 
 And  all  His  people  like  Himself  shall  rise. 
 Bright  in  His  radiance,  with  His  beauty  fair, 
 Ever  His  glory  and- His  bliss  to  share. 
 Oh,  precious  hope  !  already  from  afar 
 Through  sorrow's  night  we  see  the  morn- 
 ing star, 
 And  guided  by  its  beams,  we  calmly  lay 
 Our  sleeping  ones  to  rest,  to  wait  "  that 
 day."  E.  L.  L. 
 
 DEATH— a  Stream. 
 
 There  is  a  stream  whose  narrow  tide 
 
 The  known  and  unknown  worlds  divide. 
 
 Where  all  must  go. 
 Its  waveless  watei's,  dark  and  deep, 
 Mid  sullen  silence  downward  sweep. 
 
 With  noiseless  flow. 
 
 I  saw  where  at  that  dreary  flood 
 A  smiling  infant  prattling  stood. 
 
 Whose  hour  had  come  : 
 Untaught  of  ill,  it  neared  the  tide, 
 Sank,  as  to  cradled  rest,  and  died, 
 
 Like  going  home. 
 
 Followed,  with  languid  eye,  anon 
 A  youth,  diseased,  and  pale,  and  wan. 
 
 Whose  time  had  come  : 
 He  gazed  upon  that  leaden  stream ; 
 I  saw  him  plunge,  I  heard  a  scream. 
 
 And  he  was  gone. 
 
 And  next  a  form,  in  manhood's  strength. 
 Come  bustling  on  till  there  at  length 
 
 He  saw  life's  bound  : 
 To  heaven  he  raised  his  bitter  prayer. 
 Too  late,  his  shriek  of  wild  despair 
 
 The  waters  drown'd. 
 
 I  saw  when  to  that  stream  again 
 Another  child  of  mortal  man. 
 
 With  smiles  drew  nigh  : 
 'Tis  the  last  pang,  he  calmly  said. 
 To  me,  0  Death,  thou  hast  no  dread; 
 
 Saviour,  I  come. 
 Spread  but  thine  arms  on  yonder  shore — 
 I  see,  ye  waters,  bear  me  o'er. 
 
 There  is  my  home.  Anon. 
 
 DEATH— Strong  in. 
 
 The  other  day  I  was  requested  by  a 
 brother  minister,  who  was  unwell,  to  go 
 and  visit  a  dying  child.  He  told  me  some 
 remarkable  things  of  this  boy,  eleven  years 
 of  age,  who,  during  three  years'  sickness, 
 had  manifested  the  most  patient  submission 
 to  the  will  of  God,  with  a  singular  en- 
 lightenment of  the  spirit.  I  went  to  visit 
 him.  The  child  had  suffered  excruciating 
 pain;  for  years  he  had  not  known  one 
 day's  rest.  I  gazed  with  wonder  at  the 
 boy.  After  drawing  near  to  him,  and 
 speaking  some  words  of  sympathy,  he 
 looked  at  me  with  his  blue  eyes — he  could 
 not  move,  it  was  the  night  before  he  died — 
 and  breathed  into  my  ear  these  few  words, 
 "  I  am  strong  in  Him."  The  words  were 
 few,  and  uttered  feebly;  they  were  the 
 words  of  a  feeble  child,  in  a  poor  home, 
 where  the  only  ornament  was  that  of  a 
 meek,  and  quiet,  and  aftectionate  mother; 
 but  these  words  seemed  to  lift  the  burden 
 from  the  very  heart ;  they  seemed  to  make 
 the  world  more  beautiful  than  ever  it  was 
 before ;  they  brought  home  to  my  heart  a 
 great  and  blessed  truth.  May  all  of  us  be 
 "  strong  in  Him."  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
236 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 DEATH— a  Tliief. 
 
 This  last  enemy  strikes  tlie  body,  as  a 
 robber  forces  open  the  door  of  a  bouse, 
 in  order  to  reach  the  treasure  that  lies 
 within.  If  the  soul's  life  has  been  hid 
 with  Christ  in  God  before  that  last  assault, 
 the  spoiler  will  be  disappointed  of  his  prey. 
 Arnot. 
 
 DEATH— at  all  Times. 
 
 Death  reigns  in  all  the  portions  of  our 
 time.  The  autumn  with  its  fruits  provides 
 disorders  for  us,  and  the  winter's  cold  turns 
 them  into  sharp  diseases,  and  the  spring 
 brings  flowers  to  strew  our  hearse,  and  the 
 summer  gives  green  turf  and  brambles  to 
 bind  upon  our  graves.  Calentures  and  sur- 
 feit, cold  and  agues,  are  the  four  quarters 
 of  the  year,  and  all  minister  to  death  ;  and 
 you  can  go  no  whither,  but  you  tread  upon 
 a  dead  man's  bones.  Bj).  Taylor. 
 
 DEATH— Treasures  of. 
 
 Many  a  man  has  an  ill-favoured  counte- 
 nance, is  lean  and  haggard,  pale  and  sallow, 
 and  mean  in  his  attire,  who  yet,  under  an 
 ungainly  exterior,  conceals  great  talents 
 and  virtues.  Such  is  the  case  with  death. 
 Ah  me !  how  much  of  what  is  good  and 
 sweet,  and  blessed,  is  concealed  beneath  its 
 sour  aspect  and  transient  bitterness.  It 
 is  not  I  tvko  die,  when  I  die,  but  my  sin 
 and  misery.  As  often  as  I  think  of  death, 
 I  figure  to  myself  that  I  see  a  messenger 
 coming  from  a  distant  land,  bringing  the 
 good  news  of  my  Saviour,  the  Bridegroom 
 of  my  soul,  and  of  the  inheritance  which 
 He  has  purchased  with  His  blood,  and  re- 
 serves for  me  in  heaven.  What  care  I  al- 
 though the  messenger  may  have  an  ugly 
 face,  be  armed  with  a  long  dart,  wear  a 
 tattered  coat,  and  knock  rudely  at  my 
 door  ?  I  attend  less  to  his  appearance 
 than  to  his  business.  Gotthold. 
 
 DEATH— Uncertainty  of. 
 
 That  awful,  that  tremendous  day. 
 Whose  coming,  who  shall  tell  ?     For  as  a 
 
 thief 
 Unheard,  unseen,  it  steals  with  silent  pace 
 Through  night's  dark  gloom.     Perhaps,  as 
 
 here  I  sit, 
 And  rudely  carol  these  recondite  lays, 
 Soon  shall  the  hand  be  check'd,  and  dumb 
 
 the  mouth 
 That  lisps  the  falt'ring  strain.     O  !  may  it 
 
 ne'er 
 Intrude  unwelcome  on  an  ill-spent  hour; 
 But  find  me  wrapt  in  meditations  high 
 Hymning  my  great  Creator.  Hodgson. 
 
 DEATH— Universal. 
 
 "There  is  one  kind  of  flesh  of  men, 
 another  of  beasts,  another  of  flshes,  and 
 another  of  birds."     "All  flesh  is  grass." 
 
 No  sex  is  spared,  no  age  exempt.  The 
 majestic  and  courtly  roads  which  monarchs 
 pass  over,  the  way  that  men  of  letters 
 tread,  the  path  the  warrior  traverses,  the 
 short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor,  all 
 lead  to  the  same  place ;  all  terminate,  how- 
 ever varied  in  their  routs,  in  that  one 
 enormous  house  which  is  appointed  for  all 
 living.  One  short  sentence  closes  the  bio- 
 graphy of  every  man,  as  if  in  mockery  of 
 the  unsubstantial  pretensions  of  human 
 pride,  "The  days  of. the  years  of  Methu- 
 selah were  969  years ;  and  he  died."  There 
 is  the  end  of  it,  "  And  he  died."  Such  is 
 the  frailty  of  this  boasted  man.  "It  is 
 appointed  unto  men" — unto  all  men — 
 "  once  to  die."  W,  M.  Funshon. 
 
 Everything  dies,  and  on  this  spring 
 morning,  if  I  lay  my  ear  to  the  ground,  I 
 seem  to  hear,  from  every  point  of  the  com- 
 pass, the  heavy  step  of  men  who  carry  a 
 corpse  to  its  burial.  Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  and 
 tended. 
 
 But  one  dead  lamb  is  there ! 
 There  is  no  fireside,  howsoe'er  defended. 
 
 But  has  one  vacant  chair. 
 The  air  is  full  of  farewells  to  the  dying 
 
 And  mourning  for  the  dead  j 
 The    heart    of    Rachel,    for    her    children 
 crying, 
 
 Will  not  be  comforted.  Lougfelloiv. 
 
 No  cheerful  corn  the  fields  below  produce, 
 Nor  clust'ring   vines  nor  brisk   enlivlng 
 
 juice; 
 But  daring  Cerb'rus  with  his  triple  roar. 
 And  the  old  wlierry  on  the  Stygian  shore. 
 Tibullus. 
 DEATH— Unprepared  for. 
 
 How  often  we  hear  the  mournful  ex- 
 clamation, "  Too  late !"  from  men  who 
 come  up  to  the  doors  of  a  bank,  just  as  the 
 key  has  turned  in  the  lock ;  or  up  to  the 
 great  gates  of  a  railway  terminus,  just  as 
 they  swing  to,  and  tell  the  tardy  traveller 
 he  has  lost  his  train;  or  up  to  the  post- 
 office,  just  as  the  mail  has  been  despatched ; 
 but  how  should  we  tremble,  if  our  ears 
 could  receive  the  despairing  cry  of  souls 
 whom  the  stony  gaze  of  that  grim  messen- 
 ger has  fixed  in  sin  for  ever ! 
 
 "  A  little  longer,  yet  a  little  longer, 
 O  might  she  stay  to  wash  away  her  stains, 
 And  fit  her  for  the  passage !     But  the  foe. 
 Like   a   staunch  murderer,   steady  to  his 
 
 purpose. 
 Pursues  the  soul  through  every  lane  of  life 
 Nor  misses  once  the  track,  but  presses  on  ; 
 Till,  forced  at  last  to  the  tremendous  verge 
 At  once  she  sinks  to  everlasting  ruin." 
 
 Anon. 
 
DEATH— DEATH  OF  EMIITEITT  CHRISTIAN  MEN. 
 
 237 
 
 DEATH— Vale  of. 
 
 The  vale  of  death !  that  hush'd  Cimmerian 
 
 vale! 
 Where  darkness,  brooding  o'er  unfinished 
 
 fates, 
 With  raven  wing    incumbent,  viraits  the 
 
 day 
 (Dread  day !)    that   interdicts    all  future 
 
 change !  Young. 
 
 DEATH— Vanquished. 
 
 The  power  of  death,  the  last  enemy,  is 
 destroyed,  as  it  respects  all  who  believe  in 
 Christ ;  instead  of  being  the  jailor  of  hell 
 and  the  grave,  he  is  now,  as  it  respects 
 Christ's  people,  the  porter  of  Paradise.  All 
 he  can  now  do  is  to  cause  them  to  sleep  in 
 Jesus,  release  their  immortal  spirits  from 
 the  fetters  which  bind  them  to  earth,  and 
 deposit  their  weary  bodies  in  the  tomb  as 
 a  place  of  rest,  till  Christ  comes  at  the  last 
 day  to  raise  them  incorruptible,  glorious, 
 and  immortal,  and  re- unite  them  to  their 
 souls  in  a  state  of  perfect,  never-ending 
 felicity.  Br.  Fayson. 
 
 DEATH— Welcoming. 
 
 A  child,  at  school,  welcomes  every  mes- 
 senger from  home  to  him ;  but  he  desires 
 most  the  messenger  that  comes  for  him. 
 Joseph  sends  to  Jacob,  and  for  him  at 
 once;  and  his  father  not  only  heard  the 
 words,  but  saw  the  waggons.  "  Oh,  these 
 are  really  to  carry  me  to  him ;  I  shall  soon 
 see  my  son,  and  die  in  peace."  Such  a 
 messenger.  Christian,  is  death  to  you. 
 "  Come,"  says  God,  "  you  have  toiled 
 long  enough,  you  have  feared  long  enough, 
 you  have  groaned  long  enough,  your 
 warfare  is  accomplished,  enter  the  rest 
 which  the  Lord  your  God  giveth  you 
 — come;  for  all  things  are  now  ready." 
 "But  the  swelling  river  rolls  between." 
 Fear  not.  The  ark  of  the  covenant  will 
 go  before  you,  and  divide  the  waves,  and 
 you  shall  pass  over  dry-shod.  And  then 
 let  the  streams  reunite,  and  continue  to 
 flow  on,  you  will  not  wish  them  to  re-open 
 for  your  return.  What  is  misery  to  others, 
 is  joy  to  you.  "  I  shall  go  the  way  whence 
 I  shall  not  retiu-n."  W.  Jay. 
 
 Open   thine   arms,  0  death,  thou  fine  of 
 
 woe, 
 And  warranty  of  bliss !     I  feel  the  last 
 Red  mountainous  remnant   of  the   earth 
 
 give  way. 
 The  stars  are  rushing  upward  to  the  light ; 
 My  limbs  are  light,  and  liberty  is  mine. 
 The  spirit's  infinite  purity  consumes 
 The  sullied  soul.     Eternal  destiny 
 Opens  its  bright  abyss.     I  am  God's. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 DEATH— Wonderfulness  of. 
 
 How  wonderful  is  death, 
 Death  and  his  brother  sleep  ! 
 
 One,  pale  as  yonder  waning  moon. 
 With  lips  of  lurid  blue ; 
 
 The  other,  rosy  as  the  morn 
 
 When  throned  on  ocean's  wave, 
 It  blushes  o'er  the  world; 
 
 Yet  both  so  passing  wonderful.     Shelley 
 
 DEATH  OP  EMINENT  CHRISTIAN  MEN. 
 
 William  Tyndale. — While  labouring 
 in  Antwerp  as  a  spiritual  teacher  to  the 
 English  residents  there,  and  plying  his  pen 
 and  employing  the  press  with  unwearied 
 diligence  for  the  cause  to  which  his  soul 
 was  devoted,  Tyndale  was  the  object  of 
 intense  dislike  to  the  ecclesiastical  autho- 
 rities of  the  country,  to  whose  machina- 
 tions it  is  probable  he  at  length  fell  a 
 victim.  Attempts  were  made  to  persuade 
 him  to  return  to  England.  Vaughan,  the 
 representative  of  the  English  court  at  Ant- 
 werp was  employed  to  allure  him,  if  pos- 
 sible, into  the  lion's  den,  and  when  these 
 attempts  proved  vain,  he  was  betrayed 
 into  the  hands  of  the  government  of  the 
 Netherlands,  through  the  intrigues  of  two 
 abandoned  Englishmen,  who  consummated 
 the  tragedy  of  this  confessor's  life.  Being 
 convicted  on  a  charge  of  heresy,  he  was 
 condemned  to  be  strangled  and  burned. 
 The  inhuman  sentence  was  carried  into 
 effect  at  Vilvord,  near  Brussels. 
 
 J.  Stoughton. 
 
 RiCHAED  HooKEE. — The  dying  hours 
 of  Richard  Hooker  were  in  harmony  with 
 the  tenor  of  his  life,  and  the  spirit  of  his 
 writings.  On  asking  his  thoughts,  his 
 doctor  received  for  reply  from  Hooker, 
 that  he  was  "  meditating  the  number  and 
 nature  of  angels,  and  their  blessed  obe- 
 dience and  order,  without  which  peace 
 could  not  be  in  heaven;  and  oh,  that  it 
 might  be  so  on  earth !  I  have  lived  to 
 see  this  world  is  made  up  of  perturbations, 
 and  I  have  long  been  preparing  to  leave 
 it,  and  gathering  comfort  for  the  dreadful 
 hour  of  making  my  account  with  God, 
 which  I  now  apprehend  to  be  near;  and 
 though  I  have,  by  His  Grace,  loved  Him 
 in  my  youth,  and  feared  Him  in  mine  age, 
 and  laboured  to  have  a  conscience  void  of 
 oflence  to  Him  and  to  all  men ;  yet,  if 
 Thou,  0  Lord,  be  extreme  to  mark  what  I 
 have  done  amiss,  who  can  abide  it  ?  And, 
 therefore,. where  I  have  failed.  Lord  show 
 mercy  unto  me ;  for,  I  plead,  not  my 
 righteousness,  but  the  forgiveness  of  my 
 unrighteousness,  for  His  merits  who  died 
 to  purchase  pardon  for  penitent  sinners. 
 And  since  I  owe  Thee  a  death.  Lord  let 
 it  not  be  terrible,  and  then  take  Thine 
 own  time,  I  submit  to  it.    Let  not  mine. 
 
238 
 
 DEATH  OP  EMINENT  CHEISTIAN  MEN. 
 
 O  Lord,  but  Thy  will  be  done."  With 
 which  expression  he  fell  into  a  dangerous 
 slumber,  dan^^erous  as  to  his  recovery ;  yet 
 recover  he  did,  but  it  was  to  speak  only 
 these  few  words ;  and,  as  we  read  bis 
 words,  we  seem  to  see  him  in  the  quaint 
 chamber  of  his  old  parsonage,  lifting  up 
 his  eyes  to  heaven  like  holy  Stephen,  while 
 he  says,  "  God  hath  heard  my  daily  peti- 
 tions, for  1  am  at  peace  with  all  men,  and 
 He  is  at  peace  with  me;  and,  from  that 
 blessed  assurance,  I  feel  that  inward  joy 
 which  this  world  can  neither  give  nor  take 
 from  me,  my  conscieu(!e  bearing  me  wit- 
 ness ;  and  this  witness  makes  the  thought 
 of  death  joyful.  I  could  wish  to  do  the 
 chui'ch  more  service,  but  cannot  hope  it, 
 for  my  days  are  past  as  a  shadow  tiiat  re- 
 turns not."  More  he  would  have  spoken, 
 but  his  spirits  failed  him,  and  after  a  short 
 conflict  between  nature  and  death,  with  a 
 quiet  sigh  he  breathed  his  last,  and  so  he 
 fell  asleep.  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 Robert  Leigitton. — Wlien  death  came 
 at  last,  the  circumstances  were  very  aftect- 
 ing,  and  strangely  coincident  with  his  ex- 
 press wishes.  He  used  to  say,  if  he  were 
 to  desire  a  place  where  to  die,  it  should  be 
 an  inn.  Such  a  temporary  abode  was  to 
 him  symbolical  of  the  world ;  dying  there, 
 was  an  emblem  of  one  hastening  home. 
 He  had  his  wish.  There  is  still  in  the 
 narrow  thoroughfare  called  Warwick  Lane, 
 returning  out  of  Newgate-street,  an  old 
 inn  bearing  the  sign  of  the  "  Bell."  The 
 writer  never  passes  it  without  thinking  of 
 Leighton.  It  was  thence,  in  accordance 
 with  his  wish,  that  his  pure,  meek  spirit 
 fled  away  from  scenes  of  noise,  and  toil, 
 artd  strife,  to  regions  of  spotless  purity 
 and  unbroken  repose.  Ibid. 
 
 Richard  Baxter. — At  last  he  felt  the 
 approaches  of  death  and  could  rise  no  auore. 
 Of  such  a  man  in  such  circumstances,  every 
 utterance  is  memorable  ;  and  not  the  least 
 memorable  are  those  which,  in  the  vesti- 
 bule of  eternity,  identify  with  the  lowliest 
 of  penitents,  and  the  least  of  converts,  the 
 mighty  theologian  and  the  saint  of  sixty 
 years'  standing.  " '  God  be  merciful  to 
 me  a  sinner;'  I  bless  God  that  this  is  on 
 record  in  the  Gospel,  as  an  eft'ectual  prayer. 
 God  may  justly  condemn  me  for  the  best 
 duty  I  ever  did;  all  my  hopes  are  from 
 His  free  mercy  in  Christ."  When  wakiug 
 from  a  slumber,  he  said,  "  I  shall  rest 
 ti-om  my  labours."  A  minister  added, 
 "  And  your  works  will  follow  you." 
 "  But,"  lie  answered,  "  no  works,  I  will 
 leave  out  wurks,  if  God  will  grant  me 
 the  other."  And  when  a  friend  recalled 
 the  great  good  which  had  been  done  by 
 his  writings,  he  replied,  "  I  was  but  a 
 pen   in   God's   hand;  and  what   piaise  is 
 
 due  to  a  pen  ? "  "  Almost  well,"  was 
 the  answer  to  inquiries  how  he  did ;  and, 
 at  last,  on  Tuesday  the  8th  of  December, 
 1691,  he  entered  into  the  rest  which  re- 
 mains for  the  people  of  God. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 George  Whitfield.  —  He  preached 
 daily  from  the  23rd  to  the  29th  of  Sep- 
 tember, 1770.  He  preached  that  last 
 morning  from  "  Examine  yourselves,  whe- 
 ther ye  be  in  the  faith."  At  night  he 
 was  taken  ill,  and  said  to  a  friend,  "  I  am 
 dying."  The  next  day  he  was  a  corpse. 
 Like  Elijah,  he  ended  not  his  ministry, 
 but  went  on  talking  words  of  truth,  and 
 wisdom,  and  love,  till  the  ascending  chariot 
 caught  him  away,  and  carried  him  out  of 
 sight.  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 John  Fletcher.— As  night  drew  on, 
 I  perceived  him  dying  very  fast.  His 
 fingers  could  hardly  make  the  sign  which 
 he  scarce  ever  forgot  ;  and  his  speech 
 seemed  quite  gone.  I  said,  "  My  dear 
 creature,  I  ask  not  for  myself;  I  know 
 thy  soul,  but  for  the  sake  of  others,  if 
 Jesus  be  very  present  with  thee,  lift  up 
 thy  right  hand."  Immediately  he  did. 
 "  If  the  prospect  of  glory  sweetly  opens 
 before  thee,  repeat  the  sign."  He  in- 
 stantly raised  it  again,  and  in  half  a 
 minute  a  second  time.  He  then  threw 
 it  up,  as  if  he  would  reach  the  top  of 
 the  bed.  After  this  his  hand  moved  no 
 more.  But  on  my  saying,  "  Art  tliou  in 
 pain?"  He  answered,  " No."  From  this 
 time  he  lay  in  a  kind  of  sleep,  though 
 with  his  eyes  open  and  fixed.  For  the 
 most  part  he  sat  upright  against  pillows, 
 with  his  head  a  little  inclining  to  one  side. 
 And  so  remarkably  composed,  yea,  trium- 
 phant was  his  countenance,  that  the  least 
 trace  of  death  was  scarce  discernible  in  it. 
 Eighteen  hours  he  was  in  this  situation, 
 breathing  like  a  person  in  common  sleej). 
 About  thirty-five  minutes  past  ten  on 
 Sunday  night,  August  14,  his  precious 
 soul  entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord, 
 without  struggle  or  groan,  in  the  fifty- 
 sixth  year  of  his  age.  Mrs.  Fletcher. 
 
 John  Newton. — Newton  died  in  his 
 eighty-second  year;  and  the  story  of  his 
 life  may  be  wound  up  in  Doddridge's 
 words  respecting  good  old  Mr.  Norris  of 
 Welford ;  "  Nature  was  not  racked  with 
 tormenting  pain,  nor  worn  out  by  a  tedious 
 consuming  illness ;  but  the  good  man  grew 
 a  little  drowsy  towards  the  evening  of  his 
 long  day,  and  having  served  his  genera- 
 tion according  to  the  will  of  God,  gently 
 fell  asleep."  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 John  Howe.  —  Round  his  dying  bed 
 gathered  many  friends  and  ministers,  to 
 whom  he  expatiated  with  warmth  on  that 
 
DEATH  OF  EMINENT  CHEISTIAN  MEN. 
 
 future  blessedness,  which  had  been  so  long 
 tlie  theme  of  his  meditation.  Among  other 
 friends,  he  received  a  visit  from  Richard 
 Cromwell,  to  whom  he  had  been  chaplain 
 forty-five  years  before,  and  who  now  lived 
 the  life  of  a  quiet  country  gentleman,  and 
 of  a  most  exemplary  Christian.  The  inter- 
 view between  them  was  long  and  affection- 
 ate, and  they  parted  amidst  many  tears. 
 Howe  died  ou  Monday,  April  2,  1705. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 David  Stonee.  —  The  time  was  now 
 come  when  this  faithful  servant  of  the 
 Lord  must  die  :  and  his  death  affords  a 
 sublime  example  of  Christian  virtue.  It 
 admirably  corresponds  with  the  tenor  of 
 his  useful  life.  For  the  salvation  of 
 siuners  he  lived  and  laboured.  Solicitude 
 for  souls  was  the  ceaseless  spring  of  his 
 zeal,  activity,  and  wasting  exertions.  He 
 felt  the  "ruling  passion  strong  in  death." 
 He  appeared  to  forget  himself,  though  on 
 the  solemn  verge  of  eternity;  to  forget 
 his  wife,  though  soon  to  become  a  discon- 
 solate widow  ;  to  forget  his  two  lovely 
 boys,  then  passing  into  the  sad  destitution 
 of  an  orphan  state;  but  he  remembered 
 sinners.  He  had  slumbered  for  some  time ; 
 the  silver  cord  seemed  quite  loosed,  and 
 nature  sinking  in  its  last  decay,  when,  to 
 the  astonishment  of  every  one  present,  he 
 looked  up,  and,  summoning  all  his  strength 
 to  one  last  eflbrt,  cried  aloud,  "  Lord,  save 
 sinners !  Save  them  by  thousands,  Lord ! 
 Subdue  them,  Lord  !  Conquer  them, 
 Lord ! "  He  reiterated  these  petitions 
 nearly  twenty  times,  then  sank  down, 
 reposed  his  head  on  the  pillow,  and  ex- 
 pired withont  a  struggle  or  a  groan,  a 
 little  before  twelve  o'clock,  aged  thirty- 
 two  years,  six  months  and  seventeen  days. 
 Dr.  Hannah. 
 
 John  Wesley. — His  death  scene  was 
 one  of  the  most  peaceful  and  triumphant 
 in  the  annals  of  the  church.  Prayer, 
 praise,  and  thankfulness  were  ever  on  his 
 lips.  Many  golden  sentences,  worthy  to 
 be  had  in  everlasting  remembrance,  were 
 uttered  during  his  last  hours.  "  Our 
 friend  Lazarus  sleepeth."  "  He  is  all  ! 
 He  is  all  ! "  "  There  is  no  need  for 
 more  than  what  I  said  in  Bristol ;  my 
 words  then  were — 
 
 *  I  the  chief  of  sinners  am. 
 But  Jesus  died  for  me !' " 
 
 "  We  have  boldness  to  enter  into  the 
 holiest  by  the  blood  of  Jesus."  "  That  is 
 the  foundation,  the  only  foundation,  and 
 there  is  no  other."  "  How  necessary  it  is 
 for  every  one  to  be  on  the  right  founda- 
 tion !"  "  The  Lord  is  with  us,  the  God  of 
 Jacob  is  our  refucre."  "  Xover  mind  the 
 poor  carcase."    "  The  clouds  drop  fatness." 
 
 "  He  giveth  His  servants  rest."  "  He 
 canseth  His  servants  to  lie  down  in  peace." 
 "  I'll  praise :  I'll  praise."  "  Lord,  thou 
 givest  strength  to  those  that  can  speak, 
 and  to  those  that  cannot.  Speak,  Lord,  to 
 all  our  hearts,  and  let  them  know  that 
 tliou  loosest  the  tongue."  "  Jesus !  Jesus !" 
 His  lips  are  wetted,  and  he  says  his  usual 
 grace,  "  We  thank  thee,  O  Lord,  for  these 
 and  all  thy  mercies.  Bless  the  Church 
 and  king ;  and  grant  us  truth  and  peace, 
 through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  for  ever 
 and  ever."  Those  who  look  out  of  the 
 windows  are  darkened,  and  he  sees  only 
 the  shadow  of  his  friends  around  his  bed : 
 "Who  are  these?  "We  are  come  to  re- 
 joice with  you;  you  are  going  to  receive 
 your  crown."  "  It  is  the  Lord's  doing," 
 he  calmly  replies,  "  and  marvellous  in  our 
 eyes."  "  I  will  write,"  he  exclaims,  and 
 the  materials  are  placed  within  his  reach ; 
 but  the  "  right  baud  has  forgot  her  cun- 
 ning," and  "  the  pen  of  the  once  ready 
 writer"  refuses  to  move.  "  Let  me  write 
 for  you,  sir,"  says  an  attendant.  "  What 
 would  you  say  ?  "  "  Nothing,  but  that  God 
 IS  WITH  us."  "  Now  we  have  done  all.  Let 
 us  all  go."  And  now,  with  all  his  remain- 
 ing strength,  he  cries  out,  "  The  best  of  all 
 is,  God  is  with  us ! "  And  again,  lifting 
 his  fleshless  arm  in  token  of  victory,  and 
 raising  his  failing  voice  to  a  pitch  of  holy 
 triumph,  he  repeats  the  heart -reviving 
 words,  "  The  best  of  _all  is,  God  is  with 
 us!"  A  few  minutes  before  ten  o'clock 
 on  the  morning  of  the  2nd  of  March, 
 1791,  he  slowly  and  feebly  whispered, 
 "  Farewell ! "  farewell ! "  —  and,  literally, 
 "  without  a  lingering  groan,"  calmly  "  fell 
 on  sleep,  having  served  his  generation  by 
 the  will  of  God."  H.  Moore. 
 
 Db.  Dempster,  of  Chicago,  who  died 
 in  November,  1863.  —  Saturday  evening, 
 as  I  entered  his  room,  I  heard  him  men- 
 tion my  name — he  was  asking  for  me.  I 
 came  to  his  side — he  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
 me,  and  made  several  efforts  to  communi- 
 cate something,  but  could  not.  His  phy- 
 sician was  there,  and  we  stepped  into  an 
 ante-room,  and  he  told  me  tearfully  that 
 the  case  must  be  fatal,  and  authorised 
 me  to  "communicate  the  fact  to  the  vene- 
 rable sufferer,  adding,  "  It  can  do  him 
 no  harm."  His  mind  was  still  regnant. 
 That  intellect  was  clear.  I  came  to  his 
 bedside,  and  holding  his  hand,  said :  "  Dr. 
 Dempster,  I  must  make  a  communication 
 which  I  am  sure  you  will  receive  without 
 agitation."  He  bowed,  fixing  his  eyes 
 calmly  upon  me.  "  Your  physician  says 
 he  can  do  no  more,  and,  contrary  to  all 
 our  hopes,  your  disease  must  terminate 
 fatally,  and  that  in  a  short  time."  No 
 change  passed  over  his  face — he  looked 
 steadily  into  mine,  and  when  I  ceased  he 
 
240 
 
 DEATH  07  EMINENT  CHRISTIAN  MEN. 
 
 bowed.  He  understood  it,  and  was  ready. 
 Alter  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  1  said  to 
 him :  "  Doctor,  we  need  no  witness  to  give 
 us  assurance,  yet  we  will  be  glad  to  know 
 if  the  Rock  is  beneath  your  feet."  He 
 responded  by  an  affirmative  sign,  made 
 more  expressive  by  the  smile  upon  his 
 features.  "  Shall  we  say  to  your  children, 
 Doctor,  that  all  is  bright  before  you?" 
 He  responded  audibly,  "  Yes,"  and  bowed. 
 A  little  later,  when  I  asked  him,  "  Doctor 
 Dempster,  shall  I  say  to  your  students 
 that  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  you 
 taught  them,  you  find  all-sufficient  now  ?  " 
 his  response,  though  made  by  signs,  was 
 emphatic.  We  kneeled  in  prayer,  and  at 
 the  close  of  the  petition  he  responded, 
 "  Amen." 
 
 For  an  hour  or  more  he  seemed  to 
 suffer  severely,  but  still  no  sign  of  fretful- 
 ness.  His  eyes  rested  frequently,  and  oh 
 how  expressively,  and  I  thought  pityingly, 
 upon  Mrs.  D. !  We  prayed  again  that  his 
 sufferings  might  be  alleviated  and  his  pas- 
 sage smoothed,  and  so  it  was.  There  was 
 some  time  when  he  sank  gradually,  though 
 rapidly,  yet  painlessly  and  gently.  His 
 eyes  indicated  intelligence  of  what  was 
 transpiring  around  him  till  within  a  few 
 minutes  of  his  death,  when  the  gleam  left 
 them.  At  eighteen  minutes  past  eleven 
 the  head  which  rested  upon  my  breast  was 
 that  of  a  lifeless  man.  We  were  with 
 our  dead.  We  had  solemnly  committed 
 his  parting  spirit  to  his  Redeemer  ! 
 
 Dr.  :EMy. 
 
 Ret.  T.  Staee  King.— When  the  second 
 attack  of  pneumonia  occurred,  he  said  to 
 the  doctor,  "  What  is  this  ?  Is  this  pneu- 
 monia, too  ?" 
 
 The  doctor  replied  that  it  was.  Mr. 
 King  then  asked,  "  Can  I  survive  it  ?" 
 
 The  doctor  told  him  no — he  thought  he 
 could  not. 
 
 "  How  long  can  I  live  ?"  he  asked. 
 
 "  Not  half  an  hour." 
 
 "  Are  you  sure  I  cannot  live  longer  than 
 that  ?" 
 
 The  doctor  told  him  he  feared  he  could 
 not.  Friends  then  asked  him  if  he  had 
 anything  to  say.  He  replied,  "  Yes,  a 
 gi  eat  deal  to  say  j  I  want  first  to  make  my 
 will." 
 
 Up  to  this  time,  for  two  or  three  days 
 he  had  not  been  able  to  speak  above  a 
 whisper ;  but  responding  to  the  power  of 
 his  will,  his  voice  now  resumed  its  old 
 power  and  tone,  and  he  spoke  nearly  as 
 loud  as  ever. 
 
 A  friend  sat  by  his  bedside,  and  he  dic- 
 tated the  will — it  was  read  to  him  after- 
 wards, and  he  assented  to  its  correctness  by 
 saying  "  all  right "  at  the  end  of  each  para- 
 graph, exclaiming  at  the  close  :  "  It  is  just 
 as  I  want  it." 
 
 He  then  hesitated  a  moment,  and  dic- 
 tated an  important  correction.  A  ])en  was 
 given  him  and  he  signed  it  in  a  handwrit- 
 ing as  firm  and  bold  as  he  ever  wrote  in 
 his  life,  even  punctuating  the  abbreviation 
 of  his  name,  and  putting  an  accustomed 
 flourish  beneath  the  signature.  Then  came 
 the  sad  task  of  bidding  his  friends  who 
 were  present  good-bye.  One  by  one  they 
 came  up  to  his  bedside ;  in  every  instance 
 he  greeted  them  with  a  cheerful  smile,  as 
 though  he  were  only  going  on  a  journey 
 of  a  day  or  two,  grasping  their  hands  and 
 saying  in  that  sweet  pleasant  voice  of  his, 
 "  Grood-bye." 
 
 Some  one  asking  how  he  felt,  he  said  : — 
 "  Happy,  resigned,  trustful ;"  then  repeat- 
 ing the  twenty-third  psalm  in  a  clear  and 
 well-modulated  voice. 
 
 At  the  verse,  "  Yes,  though  I  walk 
 through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
 I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art  with  me ; 
 thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me,"  he 
 raised  his  finger  and  his  eyes  as  calmly  as 
 though  in  his  pulpit,  his  voice  as  firm  and 
 strong  as  ever.  After  this  exertion  his 
 strength  seemed  to  fail  him.  Sinking  back 
 in  bed,  he  said  : — "  It  is  all  right  for  me, 
 but  she  will  feel  it " — pointing  to  his  wife. 
 
 Friends  again  gathered  round  his  bed- 
 side,  and  he  bade  and  smiled  them  good- 
 bye. His  little  son  being  brought  in,  he 
 said : — "  Dear  little  fellow — he's  a  beautiful 
 boy  !"  kissing  his  hand  to  the  child  as  the 
 nurse  carried  it  away  in  her  arms.  This 
 was  the  last  act  on  earth.  Calmly  closing 
 his  eyes,  he  seemed  to  go  to  sleep.  A  great, 
 and  good,  and  generous  man  was  dead. 
 
 Aechbishop  Whatelt, — His  last  ill- 
 ness showed  his  principles ;  then  he  spoke 
 plainly.  To  one  who,  observing  his  suffer- 
 ings, asked  him  if  he  suffered  much  pain, 
 he  said,  "  Some  time  ago  I  should  have 
 thought  it  great  pain,  but  now  1  am  ena- 
 bled to  bear  it."  His  intellect  was  un- 
 clouded by  illness;  he  could  think  and 
 speak.  Some  one  said  to  him,  "You  are 
 dying,  as  you  have  lived,  great  to  the  last ;" 
 the  reply  was,  "  I  am  dying  as  I  have  lived, 
 in  the  faith  of  Jesus."  Another  said, 
 "  What  a  blessing  that  your  glorious  in- 
 tellect is  unimpaired ;"  he  answered,  "  Do 
 not  call  intellect  glorious ;  there  is  nothing 
 glorious  out  of  Christ."  Another  said, "  The 
 great  fortitude  of  your  character  now  sup- 
 ports you."  "  No,  it  is  not  my  fortitude 
 that  supports  me,  but  my  faith  in  Christ." 
 With  such  a  witness  on  his  lips  and  in  his 
 acts.  Archbishop  Whately  passed  away. 
 He  has  left  us  useful  writings,  and  much 
 valuable  thought;  but  the  witness  of  his 
 dying  hours  seals  and  crowns  his  labours. 
 Dr.  Arnold  said  of  him  that  he  was  a  great 
 man.     We  reckon  it  a  higher  praise,  that 
 
DEATH-BED— DEATH-BED  REPENTANCE. 
 
 241 
 
 we  can  say  over  his  grave,  without  flattery 
 or  exaggeration,  that  he  was  a  great  and  a 
 good  man,  Ihid. 
 
 BEATH-BED— An  Atheist  at  a. 
 
 I  have  often  wondered  whiit  an  Atheist 
 can  have  to  say  at  a  death-bed,  though  I 
 suppose  he  is  seldom  present  at  any — except 
 his  own.  It  must  surely  be  an  awkward 
 place  for  him.  A  man  who  thinks  this 
 world  all,  must  find  it  hard  to  say  anything 
 consolatory  to  one  who  feels  that  all  is 
 fleeting  away  from  him.  How  consoling  it 
 must  be  for  a  wife  to  be  told  by  her  hus- 
 band— "  We  are  about,  my  dear  creature, 
 to  part,— and  to  part  for  ever ;  but  let  not 
 that  disturb  you  ;  let  me  remind  you  that 
 it  is  a  universal  law.  You  are  nothing  but 
 a  chance-composition  of  organic  molecules, 
 nor  am  I  anything  more ;  we  shall  never 
 have  individual  consciousness  again.  But 
 let  me  tell  you,  for  your  unspeakable  con- 
 solation, that  you  will  pass  into  new  forms, 
 and  sublimely,  though  unconsciously,  last 
 for  ever  !"  -ff.  Rogers. 
 
 DEATH-BED  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN. 
 
 The  death-bed  of  the  just  is  yet  undrawn 
 By  mortal  hand, — it  merits  a  Divine. 
 Angels  should  paint  it,—  angels  ever  there, — 
 There  on  a  post  of  honour  and  of  joy. 
 A  death-bed's  a  detector  of  the  heart ; — 
 There  tired  Dissimulation  drops  her  mask  : 
 Virtue  alone  has  majesty  in  death. 
 
 Young. 
 
 DEATH-BED— Discoveries  of  the. 
 
 It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  wait  and  watch 
 for  the  approach  of  death ;  to  know  that 
 hope  is  gone,  and  recovery  impossible ;  and 
 to  sit  and  count  the  dreary  hours  through 
 long,  long  nights,  such  nights  as  only 
 •watchers  by  the  bed  of  sickness  know.  It 
 chills  the  blood  to  hear  the  dearest  secrets 
 of  the  heart — the  pent-up,  hidden  secrets 
 of  many  years — poured  out  by  the  un- 
 consciou-,  helpless  being  before  you ;  and 
 to  think  how  little  the  reserve  and  cunning 
 of  a  whole  life  will  avail  when  fevers  and 
 delirium  tear  off"  the  mask  at  last.  Strange 
 tales  have  been  told  in  the  wanderings  of 
 dying  men  ;  tales  so  full  of  guilt  and  crime, 
 that  those  who  stood  by  the  sick  person's 
 couch  have  fled  in  horror  and  affright  lest 
 they  should  be  scared  to  madness  by  what 
 they  heard  and  saw ;  and  many  a  wretch 
 has  died  alone,  raving  of  deeds  the  very 
 name  of  which  has  driven  the  boldest  man 
 away.  C.  Dickens. 
 
 DEATH-BED  REPENTANCE. 
 
 They  who  delay  the  hour  of  repentance 
 until  death  are  like  the  tyrant  Dionysius, 
 who  stole  from  Apollo  his  golden  cloak,  and 
 gave  him  a  cloak  of  Arcadian  home-spun, 
 saying,  that  this  was  lighter  in  summer 
 
 and  warmer  in  winter.  These  men  sacri- 
 legiously rob  God  of  the  service  of  all  their 
 golden  days,  and  serve  Him  in  their  hoary 
 head,  in  their  furs  and  grave-clothes,  and 
 pretend  that  this  late  service  is  more 
 agreeable  to  the  Divine  mercy  on  one  side, 
 and  human  infirmity  on  the  other,  and  so 
 dispute  themselves  into  an  irrecoverable 
 condition.  Bj).  Taylor. 
 
 Archbishop  Whately,  in  his  'Future 
 Revelations,'  seems  to  take  the  ground 
 tliat  there  can  be  no  repentance  uj)on  a 
 dying  bed.  His  argument  may,  in  a  word, 
 be  summed  up  thus : — Life  is  then  prac- 
 tically ended ;  there  is  nothing  left  to  give 
 to  Christ ;  we  cannot,  in  fact,  be  said  to  be 
 on  probation  ;  and,  therefore,  to  talk  about 
 i-epentance  under  such  circumstances,  is 
 utterly  to  misunderstand  and  misuse 
 language.  Without  expressing  an  opinion 
 as  to  the  obligation,  for  these  reasons,  to 
 deny  the  possibility  of  conversion  in  our 
 dying  moments,  are  there  not  other  con- 
 siderations, along  with  these,  that  should 
 compel  us  to  distrust  the  reality  of  a 
 spiritual  change  at  such  a  time  ?  It  would 
 lie  sinful  to  declare  that  there  are  any 
 whom  the  mercy  of  the  Savieur  cannot 
 reach ;  and  it  certainly  can  extend  to  any 
 who  will  receive  it.  But  it  is  not  wrong 
 to  say  that  sinners  may  be  so  situated  that 
 they  cannot  accept  the  offered  grace  of 
 Jesus.  Whether  this  is  necessarily  the 
 case  with  every  one  who  is  unreconciled  to 
 God  when  death  is  just  upon  him,  we  do 
 not  positively  affirm,  though  we  fear  there 
 i^  little  reliance  to  be  placed  by  us  in  their 
 professions  of  foith,  or  by  themselves  in 
 their  feelings  of  peace  and  security  in  that 
 awful  hour.  The  only  practical  test  of  the 
 idea  thus  advanced  may  be  found  in  the 
 instances  of  those  who  repented  when  they 
 supposed  themselves  dying,  but  who,  when 
 recovered,  went  back  again  into  sin.  With 
 singular  and  startling  coincidence  sucli 
 cases,  and  they  are  innumerable,  cut  away 
 any  hopes  we  might  build  upon  purposes 
 to  turn  to  God  when  there  is  nothing  else 
 to  trust  in.  Br.  Raven. 
 
 A  pious  English  physician  once  stated 
 that  he  had  known  some  three  hundred 
 sick  persons  who,  soon  expecting  to  die, 
 had  been  led,  as  they  supposed,  to  repent- 
 ance of  their  sins  and  saving  faith  in 
 Christ,  but  had  eventually  been  restored  to 
 health  again.  Only  ten  of  all  this  number, 
 so  far  as  he  knew,  gave  any  evidence  of 
 being  really  regenerated.  Soon  after  their 
 recovery  they  plunged,  as  a  general  thing, 
 into  the  follies  and  vices  of  the  world. 
 
 K.  Arvine. 
 
 A   certain   American    physician,    whose 
 piety  led  him  to  attend  not  only  to  people's 
 16 
 
242    DEATH-BED  OF  THE  UNBELIEVER— DEATH-SaYINGS  OF  CHEISTIANS. 
 
 bodies,  but  to  their  souls,  stated  that  he  had 
 known  a  hundred  or  more  instances  in  his 
 practice  of  persons  who,  in  prospect  of 
 death,  had  been  hopefully  converted,  but 
 had  subsequently  been  restored  to  health. 
 Out  of  them  all  he  did  not  know  of  more 
 than  three  who  devoted  themselves  to  the 
 service  of  Christ  after  their  recovery. 
 
 K.  Arvine. 
 
 DEATH-BED  OF  THE  UNBELIEVER. 
 
 Hast  never  seen  the  death-bed  of  the  un- 
 believer ? 
 
 'Twas   anguish,  terror,   darkness   without 
 
 bound ; 
 But  0,  it  had  a  most  convincing  tongue, 
 A  potent  oratory,  that  secur'd 
 Most  mute  attention.  Pollock. 
 
 DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  CHRISTIANS. 
 
 M.  Henky. — Sin  is  bitter ;  I  bless  God 
 I  have  inward  supports. 
 
 John  Flavei. — I  know  that  it  will  be 
 well  with  me. 
 
 John  Hovfe. — I  expect  my  salvation, 
 not  as  a  profitable  servant,  but  as  a  par- 
 doned sinner. 
 
 Maetin  Lttthee. — Our  God  is  the  God 
 from  whom  cometh  salvation  :  God  is  the 
 Lord  by  whom  we  escape  death. 
 
 Knox.— Live  in  Christ,  live  in  Christ, 
 and  the  flesh  need  not  fear  death. 
 
 Calvin. — Thou,  Lord,  bruisest  me ;  but 
 I  am  abundantly  satisfied,  since  it  is  from 
 Thy  hand. 
 
 J.  Wesley.— The  best  of  all  is,  God  is 
 with  us. 
 
 C.  Wesley. — ^I  shall  be  satisfied  with 
 Thy  likeness  ;  satisfied  !  satisfied  ! 
 
 Bellakmine. — It  is  safest  to  trust  in 
 Jesus. 
 
 Baxter. — I  have  pain — there  is  no 
 arguing  against  sense — but  I  have  peace  ! 
 I  liave  peace ! 
 
 Dr.  Peeston. — Blessed  be  God !  though 
 I  change  my  place  I  shall  not  change  my 
 company;  for  I  have  walked  with  God 
 while  living,  and  now  I  go  to  rest  with 
 God. 
 
 Eev.  T.  Jones. — A  sinner  saved!  a 
 sinner  saved  ! 
 
 Rev.  John  Janeway.— More  praise  still. 
 O,  help  me  to  praise  Him  !  I  have  nothing 
 else  to  do  ;  I  have  done  with  prayers  and 
 other  ordinances. 
 
 Eliot. — Oh,  come  in  glory !  I  have  long 
 waited  for  Thy  coming.  Let  no  dark 
 cloud  rest  on  the   work   of  the  Indians. 
 
 Let   it   live  when  I  am  dead.     Welcome 
 
 joy! 
 
 Dr.  Payson.— The  battle's  fought— the 
 battle's  fought ;  and  the  victory  is  won  ; 
 the  victory  is  won  for  ever !  I  am  going  to 
 bathe  in  an  ocean  of  purity,  and  benevo- 
 lence and  happiness  to  all  eternity.  Faith 
 and  patience,  hold  out. 
 
 S.  RuTHEEFOED. — If  He  should  slay  me 
 ten  thousand  times,  ten  thousand  times 
 I'll  trust.  I  feel,  I  feel,  I  believe  in  joy, 
 and  rejoice;  I  feed  on  manna.  Oh,  for 
 arms  to  embrace  Him !  Oh,  for  a  well- 
 tuned  harp ! 
 
 Rev.  J.  Heevey. — Oh,  welcome  death  ! 
 thou  mayst  well  be  reckoned  among  the 
 treasures  of  the  Christian.  The  great 
 conflict  is  over;  all  is  done.  To  live  is 
 Christ,  but  to  die  is  gain. 
 
 Halybueton. — I  am  thinking  on  the 
 pleasant  spot  that  I  may  get  to  lie  in, 
 close  beside  Mr.  Rutherford  and  Principal 
 Anderson.  I  will  come  in  as  a  little  one 
 among  them,  and  I  will  get  my  little 
 George  in  my  hand ;  and,  oh,  we  will  be  a 
 group  of  bonnie  dust. 
 
 Dr.  Goodwin. — Ah!  is  this  dying? 
 How  have  I  dreaded  as  an  enemy  this 
 smiling  friend ! 
 
 Rev.  G.  Sandfoed. — I'll  praise,  I'll 
 praise,  I'll  praise. 
 
 Rev.  B.  Abbott. — Glory  to  God !  I 
 see  heaven  sweetly  opened  before  me ! 
 
 Rev.  E.  Gaeeettson. — "  I  shall  be  puri- 
 fied as  by  fire;  I  shall  be  made  perfect 
 through  suff"erings.  It  is  right — not  a  paiu 
 too  much.  I  feel  the  perfect  love  of  God 
 in  my  soul."  Then  he  exclaimed,  "  Holy, 
 holy,  holy.  Lord  Almighty.  Hallelujah  ! 
 Hallelujah  !"  and  then  clasping  his  hands, 
 and  lifting  his  eyes  towards  heaven,  he 
 faintly  whispered — "  Glory  !  Glory  !"  and 
 expired. 
 
 He  died  suddenly,  and  in  great  bodily 
 suffering. 
 
 Rev.  J.  Dickens. —  "My  dear  brother, 
 do  you  not  already  see  the  towers  of  the 
 New  Jerusalem  ?"  said  a  Christian  brother, 
 "  I  do,"  was  his  reply.  When  asked  by 
 the  same  person  if  they  should  engage  in 
 prayer,  he  said — "  I  would  rather  engage 
 in  praise."  In  that  exercise  he  spent  his 
 last  breath.  The  last  words  uttered  were — 
 '•  Glory !  Glory  !  Come,  Lord  Jesus  \" 
 
 Rev.  Jos.  Eveeett. — "  Glory !  glory  !  ■ 
 glory!"  (These  exclamations  of  rapture 
 continued  for  twenty-five  minutes,  and 
 then  only  ceased  with  life  itself.) 
 
 Rev.  V.  Cook. — When  I  think  of  Jesus, 
 and  of  living  with  Him  for  ever,  I  am  so 
 
DEATH-SAYINGS  OP  MARTYES. 
 
 2J3 
 
 filled  with  the  love  of  God,  that  I  scarcely 
 know  whether  I  am  in  the  body  or  out  of 
 the  body. 
 
 Eev.  G.  Roberts.— Be  quiet,  my  son  ? 
 Be  quiet,  my  sfii  ?  No,  no !  If  I  had 
 the  voice  of  an  angel  I  would  rouse  the  in- 
 habitants of  Baltimore,  for  the  purpose  of 
 telling  them  of  the  joys  of  redeeming  love. 
 Victory!  Victory!  Victory  through  the 
 blood  of  the  Lamb  I" 
 
 Rev.  Dr.  Ailmer. — Let  my  people  know 
 that  their  pastor  died  undaunted,  and  not 
 afraid  of  death. 
 
 Rev.  J.  Rees.— Christ  in  His  person, 
 Christ  in  the  love  of  His  heart,  and  Christ 
 in  the  power  of  His  arm,  is  the  Rock  on 
 which  I  rest. 
 
 Rev.  W.  Evans. — My  dependence  is  on 
 the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ.  Here  my  re^ 
 ligion  began,  and  here  it  must  end. 
 
 Rev.  J.  Marshall. — I  have  so  learned 
 Christ  that  I  am  not  afraid  to  die. 
 
 Rev.  John  Dodd. — I  am  not  afraid  to 
 look  death  in  the  face,  I  can  say,  Death, 
 where  is  thy  sting  ?  Death  cannot  hurt  me. 
 
 Rev.  Edward  Deerino. — As  for  my 
 death,  I  bless  God,  and  feel  and  find  so 
 much  inward  joy  and  comfort  to  my  soul, 
 that  if  I  were  put  to  my  choice  whether  I 
 would  die  or  live,  I  would  a  thousand  times 
 rather  choose  death  than  life,  if  it  may 
 stand  with  the  holy  \vill  of  God. 
 
 Dr.  Owen. —  O,  brother  Payne,  the  long 
 looked  for  day  is  come  at  last,  in  which  I 
 shall  see  that  glory  in  another  manner  than 
 I  have  ever  yet  done,  or  been  capable  of 
 doing. 
 
 Rev.  R.  Darracott. — Well,  I  am  going 
 from  weeping  friends  to  congratulate  angels 
 and  rejoicing  saints  in  heaven  and  glory. 
 Blessed  be  God,  all  is  well. 
 
 Rev.  S.  MoRRELL. — None  can  know,  none 
 can  conceive  the  happiness  I  possess,  the 
 peace  with  which  my  soul  is  filled,  but  the 
 sincere  disciple  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
 Redeemer  of  mankind,  give  me  strength  to 
 bear  even  joy — this  joy  ! 
 
 Venn.  —  Here  is  the  passage  I  build 
 on !  "  Who  hath  spoiled  principalities  and 
 powers,  and  hath  made  a  show  of  them 
 openly,  triumphing  over  them  in  it." 
 
 Rev.  T.  Scott.  —  Satan  is  vanquished. 
 Nothing  now  remains  but  salvation  with 
 eternal  glory — eternal  glory. 
 
 John  Fletcher. — "  God  is  love  !  love ! 
 love !     O  for  that  gust  of  praise  I  want  to 
 sound : 
 "  '  Jesu's  blobd  through  earth  and  skies 
 
 Mercy,  free,  boundless  mercy  cries.' " 
 
 "  Do  you  think  the  Lord  will  raise  you 
 up?"  one  asked;  he  strove  to  answer, 
 and  could  just  pronounce — "  Raise  me  up 
 in  the  resurr — "  meaning  in  the  resurrec- 
 tion. To  another  who  asked  the  same 
 question,  he  said,  "  I  leave  it  all  to  God." 
 
 George  Herbert. — He  said  to  a  friend, 
 who  came  from  London  to  see  him,  "  My 
 dear  friend,  I  am  sorry  I  have  nothing  to 
 present  to  my  merciful  God  but  sin  and 
 misery,  but  the  first  is  pardoned,  and  a  few 
 hours  will  now  put  a  period  to  the  latter." 
 Speaking  to  his  wife  he  said,  "  I  have  passed 
 a  conflict  with  my  last  enemy,  but  have 
 overcome  him  by  the  merits  of  my  Master, 
 Jesus." 
 
 Rev.  P.  Haedcastle.— On  the  second 
 day  before  his  death  his  pulse  was  feeble, 
 and  he  was  evidently  sinking.  When 
 asked,  "  Can  you  say  that  the  precious 
 Word  which  you  have  been  preaching  is 
 now  your  individual  salvation?"  "Yes," 
 said  he,  "  and  my  strength."  "  And  your 
 comfort?"  "  Yes,  and  my  peace."  "And 
 your  refuge?"  "Yes,""  said  the  dying 
 man,  "  and  my  life,  my  life,  my  life !" "  He 
 passed  away  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age, 
 and  the  thirty-fifth  of  his  ministry. 
 
 Rev.  John  de  Putron. — All  my  hope 
 is  in  Christ,  and  in  Him  alone.  I  have  no 
 doubt  of  my  acceptance  in  my  Redeemer; 
 and  although  deprived  of  joy  I  have  strong 
 confidence. 
 
 iRev.  Henry  Hicks.— Christ  is  the  grand 
 resource ;  Christ  is  the  beginning,  Christ  is 
 the  end. 
 
 Eev.  J.  C.  George.— Christ  is  precious 
 within.  Heaven  is  bright !  All  is  well ! 
 Precious  faitli,  precious  faith  I  Lord,  in- 
 crease my  faith. 
 
 Rev.  J.  Earnshaw. — I  have  no  fear; 
 I  trust  all  is  right  between  me  and  the 
 throne. 
 
 Rev.  W.  Fox.— When  told  that  his  suf- 
 ferings were  almost  over,  he  said,  "  I  shall 
 be  glad  to  go,  very  glad  to  go.  I  am  very 
 happy,  very  happy." 
 
 Rev.  C.  CoTWELL. — What  should  I  do 
 now  if  I  had  not  my  Saviour  to  support 
 me  ?     Christ  is  all  and  in  all. 
 
 Various,  J.  B. 
 
 DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  MARTYES. 
 
 Illustrations  of  the  power  of  Christianity 
 in  persecutions,  bodily  sufferings,  j^ainful 
 deaths ;  in  patience,  meekness,  forgiving 
 spirit,  &c. 
 
 Marcus,  of  Arethuse,  hung  up  in  a 
 basket,  anointed  with  honey,  and  so  ex- 
 posed to  the  stinging  of  wasps  and  bees,  to 
 his  persecutors  that  stood  and  beheld  him : 
 
244 
 
 DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  CELEBRATED  PERSONS. 
 
 "  How  am  T  advanced,  despising  you  that 
 are  below  on  earth ! " 
 
 Barlaam,  holding  his  hand  in  the  flame 
 over  the  altar,  sung"  that  of  the  Psalmist : 
 "  Thou  teachest  my  hands  to  war,  and  my 
 fingers  to  fight." 
 
 Ceanmee,  thrusting  his  hand  into  the 
 fire,  said  — "  Thou  unworthy  hand  shalt 
 first  burn ;  I  will  be  revenged  of  thee  for 
 subscribing  for  fear  of  death  to  that  damned 
 scroll." 
 
 BrsHOP  HooPEE,  to  one  that  tendered 
 a  pardon  upon  recantation,  said — "  If  you 
 love  my  soul,  away  with  it ;  if  you  love 
 my  soul,  away  with  it."  One  of  the  com- 
 missioners prayed  him  to  consider  that  life 
 is  sweet  and  death  is  bitter  :  "  True,"  said 
 he,  "  but  the  death  to  come  is  more  bitter, 
 and  the  life  to  come  is  more  sweet." 
 
 John  Bradford,  embracing  the  reeds 
 and  faggots,  said — "  Strait  is  the  way,  and 
 narrow  is  the  gate,  and  few  that  find  it." 
 And  speaking  to  his  fellow-martyr  said, 
 "  Be  of  good  comfort,  brother,  for  we  shall 
 have  a  merry  supper  with  the  Lord  this 
 night;  if  there  be  any  way  to  heaven  on 
 horseback  or  in  fiery  chariots,  this  is  it." 
 
 John  Lambert.  —  "None  but  Christ, 
 noue  but  Christ." 
 
 Elizabeth  Folkes,  embracing  the  stake, 
 said  — "  Farewell  all  the  world,  farewell 
 faith,  farewell  hope,  and  welcome  love." 
 
 Alice  Deiver,  when  the  chain  was  about 
 her  neck,  said — "  Here  is  a  goodly  necker- 
 chief, God  be  blessed  for  it." 
 
 John  Notes,  kissing  the  stake,  said — 
 "  Blessed  be  the  time  that  ever  I  was  born 
 for  this  day."  To  his  fellow-martyrs  he 
 said — "  We  shall  not  lose  our  lives  in  this 
 fire,  but  change  them  for  a  better,  and  for 
 coals  have  pearls." 
 
 HtTGH  Laveeocee,  comforting  John-a- 
 Price,  his  fellow-martyr,  said  unto  him — 
 "  Be  of  good  comfort,  my  brother,  for  my 
 lord  of  London  is  our  good  physician ;  he 
 will  cure  thee  of  all  thy  blindness,  and  me 
 of  my  lameness  this  day." 
 
 Joyce  Lewis. — When  I  behold  the  ugli- 
 some  face  of  death,  I  am  afraid ;  but  when 
 T  consider  Christ's  amiable  countenance,  1 
 take  heart  again. 
 
 John  Huss  said  to  a  countryman  who 
 threw  a  faggot  at  his  head—"  O  holy  sim- 
 plicity, God  send  thee  better  light !  You 
 I'oast  the  goose  now,  but  a  swan  shall  come 
 after  me,  and  he  shall  escape  your  fire." — 
 Huss,  a  goose  in  the  Bohemian  language, 
 and  Luther  a  swan. 
 
 Castilia  Rttpea. — Though  you  throw 
 my  body  down  ofl"  this  steep  hill,  yet  will 
 
 my  soul  mount  upwards  again.  Your  blas- 
 phemies more  offend  my  mind  than  your 
 torments  do  my  body. 
 
 Heney  Voes. — If  I  had  ten  heads,  they 
 should  all  off  for  Christ. 
 
 Petee  Beitce. — I  thank  God  my  broken 
 leg  suffered  me  not  to  fly  this  martyrdom. 
 
 Alexander  Cane,  when  a  fool's  cap 
 was  put  ou  his  head,  said — "  Can  I  have 
 a  greater  honour  done  me,  than  to  be 
 served  as  my  Lord  Christ  before  Herod  ?  " 
 
 John  Buisson.  —  I  shall  now  have  a 
 double  gaol-delivery  ;  one  out  of  my  sinful 
 flesh,  another  from  the  loathsome  dungeon 
 I  have  long  lain  in. 
 
 Geoege  Carpenter.  —  All  Bavaria  is 
 not  so  dear  to  me  as  my  wife  and  children, 
 yet  for  Christ's  sake  I  will  forsake  them 
 cheerfully. 
 
 Doctor  Taylor  as  he  was  going  to 
 martyrdom — "  I  shall  this  day  deceive  the 
 worms  in  Hadley  churchyard,"  and  fetch- 
 ing a  leap  or  two  when  he  came  within 
 two  miles  of  Hadley,  "  Now,"  saith  he, 
 "lack  I  but  two  stiles,  and  I  am  even 
 at  my  Father's  house." 
 
 Bishop  Latimer,  to  one  that  tempted 
 him  to  recant,  and  would  not  tell  his  name 
 — "  Well,"  saith  he,  "  Christ  hath  named 
 thee  in  that  saying,  '  Get  thee  behind  me, 
 Satan.'"  And  being  urged  to  abjure,  "1 
 will,"  saith  he,  "  good  people ;  I  once  said 
 in  a  sermon,  in  King  Edward's  time,  con- 
 fidently, that  Antichrist  was  for  ever  ex- 
 pelled England,  but  God  hath  showed  me 
 it  was  but  carnal  confidence." 
 
 To  Bishop  Ridley,  going  before  him  to 
 the  stake,  he  said,  "  Have  after  as  fast  as 
 I  can  follow.  We  shall  light  such  a  candle 
 by  God's  grace  in  England  this  day,  as  T 
 trust  shall  never  be  put  out  again."  To 
 whom  Bishop  Ridley  said,  "  Be  of  good 
 heart,  brother,  for  God  will  either  assuage 
 the  fury  of  the  flame,  or  else  strengthen 
 us  to  abide  it."  S.  Ward. 
 
 DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  CELEBRATED  PER- 
 SONS. 
 
 Napoleon. — Head  of  the  army. 
 
 Byeon. — I  must  sleep  now. 
 
 SiE  Waltee  Raleigh. — It  matters  little 
 how  it  (his  head)  lieth. 
 
 Lord  Nelson.  —  Kiss  me.  Hardy,  —  I 
 thank  God  I  have  done  my  duty. 
 
 Lawrence. — Don't  give  up  the  ship. 
 
 Chancellor  Thuelow. — I'm  shot  if  I 
 don't  believe  I  am  dying. 
 
 Neeo. — Is  this  your  fidelity  ? 
 
 Alfieri.  —  Clasp  my  hand,  my  dear 
 friend — I  die. 
 
DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  WICKED  MEN  AND  SCEPTICS. 
 
 245 
 
 Haydn. — God  preserve  the  Emperor. 
 
 Lord  Chesterfield. — Give  Dayroles  a 
 chair. 
 
 Halliee. — The  artery  ceases  to  beat. 
 Goethe. — Let  the  light  enter. 
 
 Queen  Elizabeth. — All  my  possessions 
 for  a  moment  of  time. 
 
 Cardinal  Beaueoed. — What !  is  there 
 no  bribing  death  ? 
 
 Madame  de  Stael.— I  have  loved  God, 
 my  father,  and  liberty. 
 
 Grotieds. — Be  serious. 
 
 Tasso. — Into  thy  hands,  0  Lord ! 
 
 Anne  Boleyn. — It  is  small,  very  small 
 indeed  (clasping  her  neck). 
 
 Sir  T.  Moore. — I  pray  you,  see  me  safe 
 up,  and  for  my  coming  down,  let  me  shift 
 for  myself  (ascending  the  scaffold). 
 
 R.  Burns. —  Don't  let  tbat  awkward 
 squad  fire  over  my  grave. 
 
 Sir  Walter  Scott. — I  feel  as  I  were  to 
 myself  again. 
 
 Jefferson. — I  resign  my  soul  to  God, 
 and  my  daughter  to  my  country. 
 
 Washington. — It  is  welL 
 
 J.  Q.  Adams. — It  is  the  last  of  earth. 
 
 Harrison. — I  wish  to  understand  the 
 true  principles  of  the  Government,  I  wish 
 them  carried  out.     I  ask  nothing  more. 
 
 President  Taylor. — I  have  endea- 
 voured to  do  my  duty. 
 
 Frederick  V,  of  Denmark.— There  is 
 not  a  drop  of  blood  on  my  hands. 
 
 Mozart. — You  spoke  of  refreshment,  my 
 Emilie ;  take  my  last  notes,  sit  down  to  my 
 piano  here,  sing  them  with  the  hymn  of 
 your  sainted  mother;  let  me  hear  once 
 more  those  notes  which  have  so  long  been 
 my  solacement  and  my  delight. 
 
 Franklin. — Adying  man  can  do  nothing 
 easy. 
 
 Charles  II.— Let  not  poor  Nelly 
 starve. 
 
 Mirabeatt. — Let  me  die  to  the  sounds 
 of  the  delicious  music. 
 
 Lord  Lyndhuest.— Happy,  happy, 
 happy. 
 
 Chevalier  Bunsen.— My  richest  ex- 
 perience is  the  having  known  Jesus  Christ. 
 All  the  rest  is  nothing.  We  live  eternal 
 life  in  proportion  as  we  live  in  God. 
 Christ  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  we  are  His 
 children  only  when  the  spirit  of  love  which 
 was  in  Christ  is  in  us.  Various,  J.  B. 
 
 DEATH-SAYINGS  OF  WICKED  MEN 
 AND  SCEPTICS. 
 
 Voltaire,  addressing  his  doctor,  said, 
 "  I  will  give  you  half  of  what  I  am  worth 
 if  you  will  give  me  six  months'  life."  The 
 doctor  answered,  "  Sir,  you  cannot  live 
 six  weeks."  Voltaire  replied,  "Then  I 
 shall  go  to  hell,  and  you  will  go  with  me ;" 
 and  soon  after  expired. 
 
 Gibbon,  just  before  his  death,  said  that 
 when  he  looked  forward,  "all  was  dark 
 and  doubtful." 
 
 Paine,  manifesting  some  kind  of  com- 
 punction of  conscience  on  his  dying  bed, 
 was  asked,  "  Why  do  you  call  upon  Jesus 
 Christ  to  help  you  ?  Do  you  believe  that 
 He  can  help  you  ?  Do  you  believe  in  the 
 divinity  of  J  esus  Christ  ?"  After  a  pause 
 of  some  minutes  he  answered,  "  I  have  no 
 wish  to  believe  on  that  subject." 
 
 HoBBES.— I  am  taking  a  fearful  leap 
 into  the  dark. 
 
 Lord  Byron. — "  Shall  I  sue  for  mercy?" 
 After  a  long  pause,  he  added,  "Come, 
 come,  no  weakness;  let's  be  a  man  to  the 
 last." 
 
 Altamont. — My  principles  have  poi- 
 soned my  friend;  my  extravagance  has 
 beggared  my  boy;  my  unkindness  has 
 murdei'ed  my  wife !  And  is  there  another 
 hell  ?  Oh !  thoa  blasphemed,  yet  most 
 indulgent  Lord  God  !  hell  is  a  refuge  if  it 
 hides  me  from  Thy  frown. 
 
 Francis  Spira,  an  Italian  apostate, 
 exclaimed,  just  before  death,  "My  sin  is 
 greater  than  the  mercy  of  God.  I  have 
 denied  Christ  voluntarily ;  I  feel  that  He 
 hardens  me,  and  allows  me  no  hope." 
 
 Charles  IX  (who  gave  order  for  the 
 massacre  on  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  1575) 
 expired  bathed  in  his  own  blood  from  his 
 veins,  whilst  he  said,  "  What  blood — what 
 murders — I  know  not  where  I  am — how 
 will  all  this  end  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  I  am 
 lost  for  ever.     I  know  it." 
 
 C^SAR  Borgia. — I  have  provided,  in 
 the  course  of  my  life,  for  everything  except 
 death ;  and  now,  alas !  I  am  to  die,  al- 
 though entirely  unprepared. 
 
 Philip  III,  of  Spain. — Oh,  would  to 
 God  I  had  never  reigned  !  Oh  !  that  those 
 years  I  have  spent  in  my  kingdom,  I  had 
 lived  a  solitary  life  in  the  wilderness !  Oh, 
 that  I  had  lived  alone  with  God !  How 
 much  more  secure  should  I  now  have  died ! 
 With  how  much  more  confidence  should  I 
 have  gone  to  the  throne  of  God !  What 
 doth  all  my  glory  profit,  but  that  I  have 
 so  much  the  more  torment  in  my  death. 
 
 "  Ah !  Mr.  Harvey,"  said  a  dying  man, 
 "  the  day  in  which  I  ought  to  have  worked 
 
24S 
 
 DEATH-WATCH— DECEIVER  AND  IMPOSTOE. 
 
 is  over,  and  now  I  see  a  horrible  night 
 apprortchiiig,  bringing  with  it  the  black- 
 ness of  darkness  for  ever." 
 
 "It  is  too  late,"  exclaimed  a  man  in 
 dying ;  "  oh,  what  would  I  not  give  if  I  had 
 heeded  your  warning  yesterdsiy,  but  it  is 
 now  too  late ;  I  am  lost."     Various,  J.  B. 
 
 DEATH-WATCH— The 
 
 Of  these  death-watches,  or  insects  which 
 make  a  noise  like  the  beats  of  a  watch,  I 
 Lave  observed  two  sorts.  This  year  I 
 caught  many  of  them ;  two  of  which,  a 
 male  and  female,  I  kept  alive  in  a  little 
 box  about  three  weeks ;  and  could  make 
 one  of  them  beat  whenever  I  pleased,  by 
 imitating  his  beating.  At  last  one  died, 
 and  the  other  gnawed  its  way  out  through 
 the  side  of  the  box. 
 
 The  other  death-watch  is  in  appearance 
 quite  different  from  the  last :  it  beats  only 
 about  seven  or  eight  strokes  at  a  time, 
 and  quicker;  but  this  will  beat  some  hours 
 together  without  intermission,  and  his 
 strokes  are  slower,  and  like  the  beats  of  a 
 watch.  I  have  several  years  observed 
 these  two  sorts  of  beating,  but  took  it  to 
 be  made  by  one  and  the  same  animal.  The 
 insect  which  makes  this  long  beating  is  a 
 small  grayish  animal,  much  resembling  a 
 louse,  when  looked  on  with  the  naked  eye  : 
 for  which  reason  I  call  it  Pediculus  pulsa- 
 torius.  It  is  very  nimble  in  running  to 
 seek  its  shelter  when  disturbed.  It  is 
 very  common  in  all  parts  of  the  house  in 
 the  summer  months.  They  are  extremely 
 shy  of  beating  when  disturbed;  but  will 
 answer  you  when  you  beat,  if  you  do  not 
 disturb  them.  I  cannot  tell  whether  they 
 beat  in  any  other  thing,  but  I  have  heard 
 their  noise  only  in  or  near  paper. 
 
 Concerning  their  noise,  I  am  somewhat 
 in  doubt  whether  it  be  made  by  beating 
 their  heads  or  rather  snouts  against  the 
 paper;  or  whether  it  be  not  made  after 
 some  such  manner  as  grasshoppers  and 
 crickets  make  their  noise.  I  rather  incline 
 to  the  former  opinion.  But  my  reason  for 
 doubting  is,  because  I  have  observed  the 
 animal's  body  give  a  sudden  jerk  at  every 
 stroke,  but  I  could  scarcely  perceive  any 
 part  of  it  touch  the  paper.  It  is  possible 
 it  might  beat  the  paper,  and  I  not  perceive 
 it,  as  its  body  is  small  and  near  the  paper 
 when  it  beats,  and  its  motion  in  beating  is 
 sudden  and  swift :  for  which  reasons  also 
 it  is  hard  to  perceive  the  insect  to  beat 
 without  a  very  quick  eye,  and  therefore  I 
 made  use  of  a  convex  glass,  which  by  mag- 
 nifying gave  me  much  better  opportunity 
 of  observing  it.  Derham. 
 
 DEBT— Evils  of  being  in. 
 
 The  creditor,  who  thinks  himself  sure  of 
 his  debt  at  last,  delights  in  giving  credit. 
 
 because  he  has  his  debtor  at  his  mercy, 
 makes  his  own  usurious  terms  with  him, 
 and  gorges  on  his  blood.  He  who  lives  on 
 credit  does  not  dare  examine  bills ;  and  the 
 creditor  charges  according  to  the  degree  of 
 his  own  wide  conscience.  Thus  there  is  a 
 difference  of  at  least  cent,  per  cent,  in 
 every  article  the  debtor  consumes;  and 
 two  thousand  pounds  a  year  with  him  wiU 
 not  go  so  far  as  one  in  the  hands  of  him 
 who  pays  ready  money,  and  looks  to  his 
 accounts.  Pecuniary  embarrassment  weak- 
 ens and  chains  the  mind,  and,  perhaps,  the 
 worst  efl'ect  of  all  is  in  the  indignities  to 
 which  it  subjects  its  victim.  Bridges. 
 
 DEBTS— Evil  of  not  Paying. 
 
 A  man  who  owes  a  little  can  clear  it  off 
 in  a  very  little  time,  and,  if  he  is  a  prudent 
 man,  will;  whereas  a  man  who,  by  long 
 negligence,  owes  a  great  deal,  despairs  of 
 ever  being  able  to  pay,  and  therefore  never 
 loijks  into  his  accounts  at  all.   Chesterfield. 
 
 DEBTS— Good  of  Paying. 
 
 Paying  of  debts  is,  next  to  the  grace  of 
 God,  the  best  means  in  the  world  to  deliver 
 you  from  a  thousand  temptations  to  sin 
 and  vanity.  Pay  your  debts,  and  you  will 
 not  have  wherewithal  to  buy  a  costly  toy 
 or  a  pernicious  pleasure.  Pay  your  debts, 
 and  you  will  not  have  what  to  lose  to  a 
 gamester.  In  short,  pay  your  debts,  and 
 you  will  of  necessity  abstain  from  many 
 indulgences  that  war  against  the  spirit 
 and  bring  you  into  captivity  to  sin,  and 
 cannot  fail  to  end  in  your  utter  destruc- 
 tion, both  of  soul  and  body.  Delany. 
 
 DECEIVER— The. 
 
 Seems  he   a   dove  ?    his  feathers  are  but 
 
 borrow'd. 
 For  he's  disposed  as  the  hateful  raven. 
 Is  he  a  lamb  ?  his  skin  is  surely  lent  him, 
 For   he's    inclined    as    are    the    ravenous 
 
 wolves. 
 Who    cannot    steal    a    shape  that   means 
 
 deceit  ?  Anon. 
 
 Beware  of  yonder  dog ; 
 Look,  when  he  fawns,  he  bites;  and,  when 
 
 he  bites. 
 His  venom  tooth  will  rankle  to  the  death. 
 Have  not  to  do  with  him,  beware  of  him. 
 Sin,  death,  and  hell  have  set  their  marks 
 
 on  him ; 
 And  all  their  ministers  attend  him.     Ibid. 
 
 DECEIVER  AND  IMPOSTOR. 
 
 Deceiver  is  a  generic  term;  impostor, 
 specific;  every  impostor  is  a  species  of 
 deceiver ;  the  words  have,  however,  a  dis- 
 tinct use.  The  deceiver  practises  deception 
 on  individuals;  the  impostor  only  on  the 
 public  at  large.  The  false  friend  and  the 
 faithless  lover  are  deceivers;  the  assumed 
 
DECEPTION— DECISION. 
 
 247 
 
 nobleman  who  practises  frauds  under  his 
 disguise,  and  the  pretended  prince  who 
 hiys  claim  to  a  crown  to  which  he  was 
 never  born,  are  impostors. 
 
 Deceivers  are  the  most  dangerous  mem- 
 bers of  society ;  they  trifle  with  the  best 
 affections  of  our  nature,  and  violate  the 
 most  sacred  obligations.  Impostors  are 
 seldom  so  culpable  as  those  who  give  them 
 credit.  It  would  require  no  small  share  of 
 credulity  to  be  deceived  by  any  of  the  im- 
 positions which  have  been  hitherto  prac- 
 tised upon  the  inconsiderate  part  of  man- 
 kind. G.  Crabb. 
 
 DECEPTION— Nature  of. 
 
 Why,    I  can  smile,   and  murder  while  I 
 
 smile ; 
 And  cry  content  to  that  which  grieves  my 
 
 heart; 
 And  wet  my  cheek  with  artificial  tears ; 
 And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasions. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The  devil  can  cite  Scripture  for  his  purpose. 
 An  evil  soul  producing  holy  witness. 
 Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  face, 
 A  goodly  apple,  rotten  at  the  core. 
 
 Ibid,. 
 
 You  vow,  and  swear,  and  superpraise  my 
 
 parts, 
 When,   I  am  sure,  you  hate  me  in  your 
 
 hearts.  Ibid. 
 
 DECISION — Importance  of. 
 
 There  is  no  moment  like  the  present; 
 not  only  so,  but,  moreover,  there  is  no 
 moment  at  all,  that  is,  no  instant  force 
 and  energy,  but  in  the  present.  The  man 
 who  will  not  execute  his  resolutions  when 
 they  are  fresh  upon  him,  can  have  no  hopes 
 from  them  afterwards;  they  will  be  dissi- 
 pated, lost,  and  perish  in  the  hurry  and 
 skurry  of  the  world,  or  sunk  in  the  slough 
 of  indolence.  Miss  Edgeworth. 
 
 DECISION  —Indispensable. 
 
 "A  double-minded  man,"  it  is  true  all 
 the  world  over,  is  "unstable  in  all  his 
 ways,"  like  a  wave  upon  the  streamlet, 
 tossed  hither  and  thither  with  every  eddy 
 of  its  tide.  The  recognition  of  a  determi- 
 nate purpose  in  life,  and  a  sturdy  adhesion 
 to  it  through  all  disadvantages,  are  indis- 
 pensable conditions  of  success.  The  outside 
 world  understands  this  matter  well.  Hence, 
 in  the  great  life-race,  the  vacillating  are 
 outrun  hy  the  steady,  although  the  former 
 may  be  fleet  of  foot,  as  Asahel  upon  the 
 mountains  of  Israel.  W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 DECISION— Invincible. 
 
 Bodies  fall  by  wild  sword  law ; 
 But  who  would  force  the  soul,  tilts  with  a 
 
 straw 
 Against  a  champion  cased  in  adamant. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 DECISION— Man  of. 
 
 The  man  will  not  re-examine  his  con- 
 clusions with  endless  repetition,  and  he 
 will  not  be  delayed  long  by  consulting 
 other  persons,  after  he  had  ceased  to  con- 
 sult himself.  He  cannot  bear  to  sit  still 
 among  unexecuted  decisions  and  unat- 
 tempted  projects.  We  wait  to  hear  of  his 
 achievements,  and  are  confident  we  shall 
 not  wait  long.  The  possibility  or  the 
 means  may  not  be  obvious  to  us,  but  we 
 know  that  everything  will  be  attempted, 
 and  that  a  spirit  of  such  determined  will 
 is  like  a  river,  whicli,  in  whatever  manner 
 it  may  be  obstructed,  will  make  its  way 
 somewhere.  It  must  have  cost  Caesar 
 many  anxious  hours  of  deliberation  before  he 
 decided  to  pass  the  Rubicon ;  but  it  is  pro- 
 bable he  suffered  but  few  to  elapse  between 
 the  decision  and  the  execution.  And  any 
 one  of  his  friends,  who  should  have  been 
 apprised  of  his  determination,  and  under- 
 stood his  character,  would  have  smiled  con- 
 temptuously to  hear  it  insinuated  that, 
 though  Cajsar  had  resolved,  Ca?sar  would 
 not  dare ;  or  that  though  he  might  cross 
 the  Rubicon,  whose  opposite  bank  pre- 
 sented to  him  no  hostile  legions,  he  might 
 come  to  other  rivers,  which  he  would  not 
 cross  ;  or  that  either  rivers,  or  any  other 
 obstacles,  would  deter  him  from  prosecuting 
 his  determination  from  this  ominous  com- 
 mencement to  its  very  last  consequence. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 DECISION— BTanly. 
 
 Before  the  Reform  Bill,  the  member  for 
 the  city  usually  subscribed  fifty  guineas 
 to  the  Edinburgh  races,  and  shortly  after 
 the  election  of  1841,  Mr.  Macaulay  was 
 applied  to  on  this  behalf.  His  reply  is  a 
 fine  specimen  of  manly  decision.  "  In  the 
 first  place,"  he  says,  "  I  am  not  clear  that 
 the  object  is  a  good  one.  In  the  next 
 place,  I  am  clear  that  by  giving  money 
 for  such  an  object  in  obedience  to  such  a 
 summons,  I  should  completely  change  the 
 whole  character  of  my  connection  with 
 Edinburgh.  It  has  been  usual  enough  for 
 rich  families  to  keep  a  hold  on  corrupt 
 boroughs  by  defraying  the  expenses  of 
 public  amusements.  Sometimes  it  is  a 
 ball,  sometimes  a  regatta.  The  Derby 
 family  used  to  support  the  Preston  races. 
 The  members  for  Beverley,  I  believe,  find 
 a  bull  for  their  constituents  to  bait.  But 
 these  were  not  the  conditions  on  which  I 
 undertook  to  represent  Edinburgh.  In 
 return  for  your  generous  confidence  I  off"er 
 faithful  parliamentary  service,  and  nothing 
 else.  The  call  that  is  now  made  is  one  so 
 objectionable,  that  I  must  plainly  say  I 
 would  rather  take  the  Chiltern  Hundreds 
 than  comply  with  it."  All  honour  to  the 
 moral  courage  which  indicted  that  reply. 
 Brothers,  let  the  manly  example  fire  you, 
 
M8 
 
 DECISION. 
 
 Curry  such  hproism  into  your  realms  of 
 nioriils  and  of  commerce,  and  into  all  the 
 social  interlacingsof  your  life;  let  no  possible 
 loss  of  influence  or  patronage  of  gold  tempt 
 you  to  the  doing  of  that  which  your  judg- 
 ment and  conscience  disapprove.  Better 
 a  thousand  times  to  be  slandered  than  to 
 sin  :  nobler  to  spend  your  days  in  all  the 
 bitterness  of  unlieeded  struggle,  than  be- 
 come a  hollow  parasite  to  gain  a  hollow 
 friend.  Worthier  fur  to  remain  poor  for 
 ever,  the  brave  and  self-respecting  heir  of 
 the  crust  and  of  the  spring,  than,  in 
 another  sense  than  Shakespeare's,  to  "  coin 
 your  heart,"  and  for  the  "  vile  drachmas," 
 which  are  the  hire  of  wrong,  to  drop  your 
 "  generous  "  blood.  W.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 DECISION— Moral. 
 
 While  Barry,  the  painter,  was  a  young 
 man,  residing  at  Dublin,  an  incident  oc- 
 curred which  strikingly  illustrates  the 
 character  of  the  man.  He  was  brought 
 into  contact  with  some  young  persons  of 
 dissipated  habits,  who  on  several  occasions 
 enticed  him  to  form  one  of  their  tavern 
 parties.  As  he  was  returning  home  late 
 at  night  from  one  of  these  carousals,  he 
 was  struck  by  a  sudden  conviction  of  the 
 folly  of  the  course  he  was  pursuing  in  thus 
 wasting  the  time  which  might  so  much 
 more  properly  be  employed  in  laying  the 
 foundation  of  his  future  respectability  and 
 independence.  Diilident  j)erhaps  of  his 
 own  power  of  foregoing  the  gratifications 
 which  he  had  the  means  of  purchasing, 
 and  certain  that  the  most  efl'ectuid  pre- 
 ventive would  be  to  rid  himself  of  the 
 means  at  once,  he  took  all  his  money, 
 which  was  probably  at  that  time  no  great 
 sum,  and  threw  it  into  the  Liffey,  and 
 afterwards  shut  himself  up  with  great 
 perseverance  to  his  professional  studies. 
 
 Anon. 
 DECISION— Necessity  of. 
 
 Without  it,  a  human  being,  with  powers 
 at  best  but  feeble,  and  surrounded  by  in- 
 numerable things  tending  to  perplex,  to 
 divert,  and  to  frustrate  their  operations,  is 
 indeed  a  pitiable  atom,  the  sport  of  divers 
 and  casual  impulses.  It  is  a  poor  and  dis- 
 graceful thing  not  to  be  able  to  reply,  with 
 some  degree  of  certainty,  to  the  simple 
 questions,  What  will  you  be  ?  What  will 
 you  do  ?  J.  Foster. 
 
 DECISION— Religious. 
 
 Not  long  since  a  young  lady  was  urged 
 by  a  clergyman  to  choose  between  Clirist 
 and  the  world,  because  she  could  not  have 
 both.  She  said  she  wns  determined  to 
 have  both ;  she  loved  the  gaieties  of  the 
 world,  and  was  resolved  to  have  them  ;  and 
 yet  she  wished  to  be  saved,  and  therefore 
 she  would  have  Christ  too.     She  was  told 
 
 it  was  Impossible ;  she  must  choose  one  to 
 have  the  chief  place  in  her  heart.  Then, 
 she  said,  I  choose  the  world.  If  that  be 
 your  choice,  said  the  clergyman,  take  all 
 the  pleasure  out  of  it  you  can,  for  you  will 
 have  no  other  enjoyment  to  all  eternity. 
 She  did  so  ;  plunged  into  all  sorts  of  gaiety, 
 and  tried  to  find  happiness  in  the  passing 
 hour.  One  evening,  in  a  large  company, 
 she  was  singing  a  beautiful  song.  It  is  iu 
 a  book  which  has  no  other  religious  song. 
 It  is  about  the  parable  of  the  foolish  vir- 
 gins, in  the  25th  chapter  of  Mathew,  how 
 they  came  to  the  door  when  it  was  shut, 
 and"  could  not  get  in.  She  was  singing  the 
 last  lines  of  the  song  : 
 
 "  Have  we  not  heard  the  bridegroom  is  so 
 sweet  ? 
 0  let  us  in,  though  late,  to  kiss  his  feet ! 
 No,  no,  too  late  !  ye  cannot  enter  now," 
 
 when  the  thought  burst  into  her  mind,  that 
 is  just  my  case — it  will  be  true  of  me  ! 
 She  rushed  out  of  the  room  and  spent  the 
 night  in  tears  and  prayer  Five  days  and 
 nights  she  was  in  great  distress,  till  at  last 
 that  text  came  into  her  mind — "  Him  that 
 Cometh  unto  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 
 It  brought  her  peace  and  joy  in  believing. 
 She  went  back  to  the  clergyman,  who  had 
 heard  something  of  what  was  going  on,  and 
 who  asked  her  what  was  now  her  choice. 
 Her  answer  was — 
 
 "  My  heart  is  fixed,  Eternal  God, 
 Fixed  on  Thee ; 
 And  my  immortal  choice  is  made, 
 Christ  for  me !" 
 
 W.  a.  Blaikie. 
 
 DECISION  (Eeligious)— Act  of. 
 
 On  the  summit  of  a  hill  in  a  Western 
 State  is  a  court-house  so  situated  that  the 
 raindrops  that  fall  on  one  side  of  the  roof 
 descend  into  Lake  Erie,  and  thence  through 
 the  St.  Lawrence  into  the  Atlantic.  The 
 drops  on  the  other  side  trickle  down  from 
 rivulet  to  river,  until  they  reach  the  Ohio 
 and  Mississippi,  and  enter  the  ocean  by 
 the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  A  faint  breath  of 
 wind  determines  the  destination  of  these 
 raindrops  for  three  thousand  miles.  So  a 
 single  act  determines  sometimes  a  humaa 
 destiny  for  all  time  and  for  eternity. 
 
 Cuyler. 
 
 DECISION  (Religious)— Explained. 
 
 It  is  seen  in  seeking  God  with  the 
 heart ;  in  keeping  His  commandments  ;  in 
 being  on  the  Lord's  side  ;  in  following  God 
 fully;  in  serving  God  with  all  the  heart  j 
 in  loving  God  perfectly. 
 
 It  is  opposed  to  a  divided  service  (Matt 
 vi,  24);  to  double-mindedness;  haltinji 
 between  two  opinions;  turning  to  th. 
 right  or  left;  not  setting  the  heart  arighu 
 
DECISION. 
 
 It  is  exempUfed  in  Moses  (Exod.  xxxii, 
 26);  Caleb  (Num.  xiii,  30);  Joshua  (Jos. 
 xxiv,15);  Ruth  (Ruthi,  16) ;  Asa  (2  Chron. 
 XV,  8)  ;  'David  (Psa.  xvii,  3) ;  Peter  (John 
 vi,  68);  Paul  (Acts  xxi,  13);  Abraham 
 (Heb.  xi,  8).  Anon. 
 
 DECISION  (Eeligious)— Fruits  of. 
 
 More  than  half  a  century  ago,  a  boy  was 
 put  apprentice  to  one  of  our  ordinary 
 trades. 
 
 There  was  nothing  very  remarkable 
 about  him,  with  perhaps  one  exception — he 
 promised  to  be  a  pious  lad.  But  alas  !  in 
 his  case  as  in  many  others,  his  early  good- 
 ness soon  passed  away.  He  had  to  sleep 
 with  an  ungodly  apprentice ;  and,  on 
 retiring  to  rest,  shame  of  being  seen  to 
 pray  so  shook  his  firmness  that,  like  his 
 wicked  companion,  he  hurried  to  bed  with- 
 out bending  the  knee.  Again  and  again 
 this  was  done.  His  regard  for  old  lessons 
 got  less  and  less ;  by  and  by  he  threw  them 
 off  altogether,  and  seemed  like  a  boy  who 
 had  never  known  anything  better. 
 
 In  course  of  time,  however,  another  ap- 
 prentice came  to  his  master.  He  also 
 slept  in  the  same  room.  Like  a  lad  accus- 
 tomed to  pray,  the  new  apprentice  quietly 
 knelt  to  offer  prayer  to  God  on  retiring  to 
 rest.  This  was  seen  with  deep  emotion  by 
 the  other.  Conscience  at  once  and  severely 
 condemned  his  want  of  firnmess. 
 
 Shame  to  pray  in  the  presence  of  his 
 fellow -apprentice  was  the  first  step  in  his 
 downward  course.  The  poor,  unhappy, 
 and  fallen  youth  was  once  more  brought 
 to  reflection,  and  with  a  firmer  purpose 
 than  ever,  he  consecrated  himself  to  the 
 service  of  God.  In  after  life  he  became  a 
 useful  and  honoured  minister;  and  a 
 month  or  two  ago,  after  turning  very  many 
 to  righteousness,  he  passed  away  to  glory. 
 This  minister  was  the  beloved  and  reverend 
 John  Angell  James,  of  Birmingham  !  How 
 much  harm  may  we  get  from  one  act  of 
 indecision !  and  how  much  good  may  be 
 done  by  one  act  of  decision  !  Who  can  tell 
 what  may  result  from  the  turning  of  an 
 apprentice  boy  to  goodness  ?  Who  cannot 
 be  useful?  This  example  of  juvenile  deci- 
 sion was  the  means  of  turning  a  poor  apos- 
 tate youth  to  a  course  whose  glorious 
 eternity  alone  can  reveal.  Anon, 
 
 DECISION  (Religious)— Nobleness  of. 
 
 If  there  be  a  loftiness  and  nobleness  in 
 decision,  it  is  most  lofty,  most  noble  in 
 religion.  You  need  not  go  for  instances 
 of  this,  and  for  the  admiration  which  they 
 are  calculated  to  afford,  to  such  examples 
 as  Foster  brings  before  you  in  his  inimita- 
 ble essay,  to  the  examples  selected  from 
 history,  to  Marius,  sitting  amidst  the  ruins 
 of  Carthage,  to  Pizarro,  to  Richard  III,  to 
 
 Cromwell ;  nor  even  to  those  drawn  from 
 the  records  of  Scripture,  to  Daniel,  and  to 
 Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego;  nor  to 
 those  supplied  by  Christian  martyrology, 
 to  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague;  nor 
 to  those  borrowed  from  the  annals  of  phi- 
 lantliropy,  to  Howard,  to  Wilberforce, 
 and  to  Mrs.  Fry, — these  are  all  grand,  im- 
 pressive, beautiful,  but  they  are  not  the 
 only  ones  that  may  be  cited;  nor,  with 
 whatever  lurid  or  milder  radiance  tliey  may 
 be  surrounded  and  emblazoned,  are  they 
 those  which  are  the  most  appropriate  for 
 you  to  contemplate,  or  which  perhaps  will 
 have  with  you  the  greatest  weight.  Look 
 at  that  manly,  pious  young  man,  who  has 
 left  the  shelter  and  protecting  wing  of  his 
 father's  house  and  home,  and  is  now  placed 
 in  a  modern  establishment,  and  surrounded 
 by  fifty  or  a  hundred  fellow- shopmen, 
 among  whom  he  finds  not  one  to  counte- 
 nance him  in  the  maintenance  of  his  reli- 
 gions profession,  and  the  greater  part  of 
 whom  select  him  on  account  of  his  religion 
 as  the  object  of  their  pity,  their  scorn, 
 their  hatred,  or  '  their  contempt.  Among 
 them  are  infidels  who  ply  him  with  flippant 
 and  specious  cavils  against  the  Bible; 
 pleasure  takers  who  use  every  effort  to 
 engage  him  in  their  Sunday  parties  and 
 their  polluting  amusements;  men  of  light 
 morality  who  assail  his  integrity ;  a  i'ew 
 lovers  of  science  and  general  knowledge 
 who  endeavour  to  allure  him  from  religion 
 to  philosophy.  How  fearful  is  his  situa- 
 tion— and  how  perilous  !  Usually  it  would 
 be  better  to  leave  it,  for  how  few  can  hold 
 fast  their  integrity  in  such  a  situation. 
 But  there  he — this  decided,  this  inflexible, 
 this  noble-minded  youth— stands  firm,  un- 
 yielding, decided.  He  is  neither  ashamed 
 nor  afraid  of  his  principles — he  neither 
 denies  nor  conceals  them.  Before  that 
 laughing  crowd  he  bends  his  knees  and 
 prays — in  presence  of  that  jeering  set  he 
 opens  his  Bible  and  reads,  —  fi-om  that 
 pleasure-taking  company  he  breaks  oflT, 
 amidst  their  scoff's,  to  go  to  the  house  of 
 God.  He  bears  the  peltings  of  their  piti- 
 less storm  of  ridicule  or  rage,  unruffled  in 
 temper,  unmoved  in  principle,  and  only 
 casts  upon  his  persecutors  a  look  of  gentle 
 pity,  or  utters  a  mild  word  of  expostu- 
 lation, or  silently  presents  the  prayer — 
 "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not 
 what  they  do."  He  keeps  by  his  firnmess 
 the  whole  pack  at  bay.  Some  are  half- 
 subdued  by  his  wonderful  firmness.  A 
 secret  admiration  is  bestowed  upon  him  by 
 others,  while  even  they  who  hate  him  mcst, 
 often  are  astonished  most  at  his  inflexible 
 resolution,  and  it  may  be  that  one  and 
 another,  at  length,  take  hold  of  the  skirt 
 of  his  garment  and  say  to  him,  "  We  must 
 go  with  you,  for  we  see  God  is  with  you." 
 Talk  of  decision  of  character — there  it  is 
 
250 
 
 DEEDS— DELAYS. 
 
 in  all  Us  force,  beauty,  and  utility.  I 
 kuow  of  no  case  in  God's  world  in  which  it 
 is  exemplified  with  more  power  than  in 
 that.  /.  A.  James. 
 
 DEEDS  (Good)  Recollection  of. 
 
 They  lie  in  the  memory  of  age  like  the 
 coral  islands,  green  and  sunuy,  amidst  the 
 melancholy  waste  of  ocean.      Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 DEGRADATION— Life  of. 
 
 Degradation  means  the  application  of  a 
 thing  to  purposes  lower  than  that  for 
 ■which  it  was  intended.  It  is  degradation 
 to  a  man  to  live  on  husks,  because  they  are 
 not  his  true  food.  We  call  it  degradation 
 when  we  see  the  members  of  an  ancient 
 family,  decayed  by  extravagance,  working 
 for  their  bread.  It  is  not  degradation  for 
 a  born  labourer  to  work  for  an  honest  live- 
 lihood. It  is  degradation  for  them,  for 
 they  are  not  what  they  might  have  been. 
 And,  therefore,  for  a  man  to  be  degraded, 
 it  is  not  necessary  that  he  should  have 
 given  himself  up  to  low  and  mean  practices. 
 It  is  quite  enough  that  he  is  living  for  pur- 
 poses lower  than  those  for  which  God  in- 
 tended him.  He  may  be  a  man  of  un- 
 blemished reputation,  and  yet  debased  in 
 the  truest  meaning  of  the  word.  We  were 
 sent  into  this  world  to  love  God  and  to 
 love  man ;  to  do  good ;  to  fill  up  life  with 
 deeds  of  generosity  and  usefulness.  And 
 he  that  refuses  to  work  out  that  high  des- 
 tiny is  a  degraded  man.  He  may  turn 
 away  revolted  from  everything  that  is 
 gross.  His  sensuous  indulgences  may  be 
 all  marked  by  refinement  and  t;iste.  His 
 house  may  be  filled  with  elegance.  His 
 library  may  be  adorned  with  books.  There 
 may  be  the  sounds  in  his  mansion  which 
 can  regale  the  ear,  the  delicacies  which  can 
 stimulate  the  palate,  and  the  forms  of 
 beauty  which  can  please  the  eye.  There 
 may  be  nothing  in  his  whole  life  to  offend 
 the  most  chastened  and  fastidious  deli- 
 cacy; and  yet,  if  the  history  of  all  this 
 be,  powers  frittered  upon  time  which  were 
 meant  for  eternity,  the  man  is  degraded  ; 
 if  the  spirit  which  was  created  to  find  its 
 enjoyment  in  the  love  of  God  has  settled 
 down  satisfied  with  the  love  of  the  world, 
 then  that  man  has  turned  aside  from  a 
 celestial  feast  to  prey  on  garbage. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 DELAY— Danger  of. 
 
 How  dangerous  to  defer  those  momen- 
 tous reformations  which  conscience  is  so- 
 lemnly preaching  to  the  heart !  If  they 
 are  neglected,  the  difficulty  and  indispo- 
 sition are  increasing  every  month.  The 
 mind  is  receding,  degi'ce  after  degree,  from 
 the  warm  and  hopeful  zone ;  till,  at  last, 
 it  will  enter  the  arctic  circle,  and  become 
 fixed  in  relentless  and  eternal  ice. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 DELAY— Eolly  of. 
 
 Begin,  be  bold,  and  venture  to  be  wise  ; 
 He  who  defers  this  work  from  day  to  day. 
 Does  on  a  river's  bank  expecting  stay 
 Till  the  whole  stream,  which  stopp'd  him, 
 
 should  begone, 
 That  runs,  and,  as  it  runs,  for  ever  will 
 
 run  on.  Cotoley. 
 
 DELAY  IN  RELIGION. 
 
 I  have  read  of  one  that  presented  Anti- 
 pater,  King  of  Macedon,  with  a  book  that 
 treated  of  happiness ;  he  refused  it,  saying, 
 "  I  am  not  at  leisure."  Many  have  the 
 book  by  them — yea,  presented  to  them  by 
 Christ— that  treats  of  everlasting  happi- 
 ness,  but  they  slight  the  present :  "  I  am 
 not  at  leisure,"  say  they.  They  have  op- 
 portunity of  hearing  the  Word  opened  on 
 week  days  as  well  as  Sabbath  days,  but 
 they  are  not  at  leisure.  They  have  means 
 of  knowledge  for  hearing  the  same  Word, 
 but  they  are  not  at  leisure.  They  take 
 leisure  to  their  own  work,  their  worldly 
 work — yea,  for  idle  conversation  ;  but  they 
 have  no  leisure  for  God's  work,  their  soul's 
 work,  eternal  work  !  Reader,  have  you 
 leisure  to  be  saved  ?  or  are  you  willing  to 
 continue  in  the  bustle  of  the  world,  neglect 
 salvation,  and  be  damned  ? 
 
 Ralph  Frskine. 
 
 DELAY  IN  RELIGION— Danger  of. 
 
 In  January,  1825,  Mr.  H ,  of  S ■, 
 
 New  York,  says  a  clergyman,  came  to  me, 
 and  said,  "Sir,  can  a  sinner  of  eighty  years 
 old  be  forgiven  ?  "  The  old  man  who  made 
 the  inquiry  wept  much  while  he  spoke, 
 and  on  the  minister  inquiring  into  his  his- 
 tory, gave  this  account  of  himself: — "Sir, 
 when  I  was  twenty-one,  I  was  awakened 
 to  know  that  I  was  a  sinner,  but  I  got 
 with  some  young  men  who  tried  to  per- 
 suade me  to  give  it  up.  After  a  while  I 
 resolved  1^  would  put  it  oflf  for  ten  years.  I 
 did.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  my  promise 
 came  to  my  mind,  but  I  felt  no  great  con- 
 cern, and  I  resolved  to  put  it  oft'  ten  years 
 more.  I  did ;  and  since  then  the  resolution 
 has  become  weaker  and  weaker,  and  now  I 
 am  lost !"  After  talking  to  him  kindly, 
 the  minister  prayed  with  him,  but  he  said, 
 "  It  will  do  no  good.  I  have  sinned  away 
 my  day  of  grace  j"  and  in  this  state  he 
 soon  after  died.  Bowes. 
 
 DELAYS— Divine. 
 
 God  oftentimes  delays  that  His  people 
 may  come  to  Him  with  greater  strength 
 and  importunity;  He  puts  them  off,  that 
 they  may  put  on  with  more  life  and  vigour. 
 God  seems  to  be  cold,  that  He  may  make 
 us  the  more  hot :  He  seems  to  be  slack, 
 that  He  may  make  us  the  more  earnest ; 
 He  seems  to  be  backward,  that  He  may 
 
DELAYS— DELUSION  AND  ILLUSION. 
 
 251 
 
 make   us   the  more  forward   iu   pressing 
 upon  Him.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 DELAYS— Shun. 
 
 Shun  dehiys,  they  breed  remorse ; 
 
 Take  thy  time  while  time  is  lent  thee : 
 Creeping  snails  have  weakest  force; 
 
 Fly  their  fault,  lest  thou  repent  thee. 
 Good  is  best  when  sooner  wrought, 
 Ling'ring  labours  come  to  nought. 
 
 Hoist  up  sail  while  gale  doth  last, — 
 Tide  and  wind  stay  no  man's  pleasure ! 
 
 Seek  not  time  when  time  is  past — 
 Sober  speed  is  wisdom's  leisure  j 
 
 After-wits  are  dearly  bought : 
 
 Let  thy  fore-wit  guide  thy  thought. 
 
 Time  wears  all  his  locks  before — 
 Take  thou  hold  upon  his  forehead : 
 
 When  he  flees,  he  turns  no  more, 
 And  behind  his  scalp  is  naked. 
 
 Works  adjourn'd  have  many  stays; 
 
 Long  demurs  breed  new  delays. 
 
 SotitMvell. 
 
 DELIBERATION— Benefit  of. 
 
 When  any  one  reviles  or  strikes  you,  it 
 is  not  his  tongue  or  hand  that  injures  or 
 affronts  you ;  but  it  is  your  own  resentment 
 of  it  that  makes  it  such  to  you.  When, 
 therefore,  you  are  provoked,  it  is  owing 
 entirely  to  your  own  apprehensions  of  tlie 
 thing.  Therefore  guard  yourself  well 
 against  the  firit  impressions;  for  if  you 
 can  but  so  far  subdue  your  passions  as  to 
 take  time  for  cool  deliberation,  you  will 
 easily  attain  to  a  good  government  of 
 yourself.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 DELIBEKATION— Nature  and  Importance 
 of. 
 
 Deliberation  is  the  act  of  considering 
 things  before  we  undertake  or  make  choice 
 of  them ;  and  is  very  essential  to  our 
 honour  and  coinfort  in  the  present  state. 
 Mr.  Mather  observes,  "  I  have  heard  one 
 say  that  there  was  a  gentleman  in  the 
 nineteenth  chapter  of  Acts  to  whom  he 
 was  more  indebted  than  to  any  other  man 
 in  the  world.  This  was  he  whom  our 
 translation  calls  the  town-clerk  of  Ephesus, 
 whose  counsel  it  was  to  do  nothing  rashly." 
 Upon  any  proposal  of  consequence  it  was 
 a  usual  siieech  with  him,  "  We  will  first 
 advise  with  the  town-clerk  of  Ephesus." 
 One,  in  a  fond  compliance  with  a  friend, 
 forgetting  the  town-clerk,  may  do  that  in 
 haste  which  he  may  repent  of  at  leasure — 
 may  do  what  may  cost  him  several  hundreds 
 of  pounds,  besides  troubles  which  he  would 
 not  have  undergone  for  thousands.      Ibid. 
 
 DELIGHTS  (Sensual)— Cloying. 
 
 Sensual  delights  soon  end  in  loathing, 
 quickly  bring  a  glutting  surfeit,  and  de- 
 generate into  torments  when  they  are  con- 
 
 tinued and  intermittent.  A  philosopher, 
 in  an  epistle  which  he  writes  to  a  friend 
 from  the  court  of  Dionysius,  where  he  was 
 forcibly  detained,  thus  bemoans  himself: 
 "  We  are  unhappy,  0  Antisthenes,  beyond 
 measure ;  and  how  can  we  but  be  unhappy, 
 that  are  burdened  by  the  tyrant  every  day, 
 with  sumptuous  feasts,  plentiful  compo- 
 tations,  precious  ointments,  gorgeous  ap- 
 parel ?  and  I  knew,  as  soon  as  I  came  into 
 this  island  and  city,  how  unhappy  my  life 
 would  be."  This  is  the  nature  and  common 
 condition  of  even  the  most  pleasing  sensible 
 objects ;  they  first  tempt,  then  please  a 
 little,  then  disappoint,  and  lastly  vex. 
 The  eye  that  beholds  them  blasts  them, 
 quickly  rifles  and  deflowers  their  glory, 
 and  views'  them  with  no  more  delight  at 
 first  than  disdain  afterwards.  Creature 
 enjoyments  have  a  bottom,  are  soon  drained 
 and  drawn  dry :  hence  there  must  be  fre- 
 quent diversions;  other  pleasures  must  be 
 sought  out,  and  are  chosen,  not  because 
 they  are  better,  but  because  they  are  new. 
 John  Howe. 
 
 DELUSION  AND  ILLUSION. 
 
 We  distinguish  between  illusion  and  de- 
 lusion. We  may  paint  wood  so  as  to  be 
 taken  for  stone,  iron,  or  marble ;  this  is 
 delusion :  but  you  may  paint  a  picture  in 
 which  rocks,  trees,  and  sky  are  never  mis- 
 taken for  what  they  seem,  yet  produce  all 
 the  emotion  which  real  rocks,  trees,  and 
 sky  would  produce.  This  is  illusion,  and 
 this  is  the  painter's  art :  never  for  one 
 moment  to  deceive  by  attempted  imitation, 
 but  to  produce  a  mental  state  in  which  the 
 feelings  are  suggested  which  the  natural 
 objects  themselves  would  create.  Let  us 
 take  an  instance  drawn  from  hfe. 
 
 To  a  child  the  rainbow  is  a  real  thing — 
 substantial  and  palpable;  its  hmb  rests  on 
 the  side  of  yonder  hill ;  he  believes  that 
 he  can  appropriate  it  to  himself;  and  when, 
 instead  of  gems  and  gold,  hid  in  its  radiant 
 bow,  he  finds  nothing  but  damp  mist — 
 cold,  dreary  drops  of  disappointment — that 
 disappointment  tells  that  his  belief  has 
 been  delusion. 
 
 To  the  educated  man  that  bow  is  a 
 blessed  illusion,  yet  it  never  once  deceives  j 
 he  does  not  take  it  for  what  it  is  not,  he 
 does  not  expect  to  make  it  his  own ;  he 
 feels  its  beauty  as  much  as  the  child  could 
 feel  it,  nay,  infinitely  more — more  even 
 from  the  fact  that  he  knows  that  it  will 
 be  transient ;  but  besides  and  beyond  this, 
 to  him  it  presents  a  deeper  loveliness  ;  he 
 knows  the  laws  of  light  and  the  laws  of  the 
 human  soul  which  gave  it  being.  He  has 
 linked  it  with  the  laws  of  the  universe,  and 
 with  the  invisible  mind  of  God;  and  it 
 brings  to  him  a  thrill  of  awe,  and  a  sense 
 of  a  mysterious,  nameless  beauty,  of  which 
 
252 
 
 DEPENDENCE  UPON  GOD— DEPEAVITY. 
 
 the  child  did  not  conceive.     It  is  illusion 
 still;  but  it  luis  fulfilled  the  promise. 
 
 F.  W.  Eohertson. 
 
 DEPENDENCE  UPON  GOD. 
 
 In  our  day  of  wonderful  activity,  when 
 man  has  learned  to  assert  his  mastery  over 
 the  elements,  and  to  compel  the  powers  of 
 nature  to  do  him  service,  there  is  great 
 danger  of  forgetting  his  dependence  on 
 God;  and  an  admonition  addressed  to 
 ministers  has  equal  significance  for  all 
 professions  and  pursuits : — 
 
 "  Xov.  may  rise  up  early,  and  go  to  bed 
 late,  and  study  hard,  and  read  much,  and 
 devour  the  marrow  of  the  best  authors  ; 
 and  when  you  have  done  all,  unless  God 
 give  a  blessing  to  your  endeavours,  be  as 
 lean  and  meagre  in  r(jgard  to  truth  and  use- 
 ful learning,  as  Pharaoh's  lean  kine  were 
 after  they  had  eaten  the  fat  ones."    Anon. 
 
 The  light  which  radiates  our  atmosphere 
 and  enters  our  dwellings,  and  gives  vision 
 to  every  eye,  is  an  emanation  from  the 
 sun,  and  is  dependent  upon  the  rise  and 
 motion  of  the  sun  from  day  to  day ;  so  we, 
 and  all  our  mercies  every  day  and  every 
 hour  of  our  lives,  come  from  God,  and  are 
 dependent  upon  Him.  John  Bate. 
 
 DEPENDENCE— Self. 
 
 For  the  man  who  makes  everything  that 
 leads  to  happiness,  or  near  to  it,  to  depend  | 
 upon  himself,  and  not  upon  other  men,  on 
 whose  good  or  evil  actions  his  own  doings 
 are  compelled  to  hinge — such  a  one,  I  say, 
 has  adopted  the  very  best  jjlan  for  living 
 happily.  This  is  the  man  of  moderation ; 
 this  is  the  man  of  manly  character,  and  of 
 wisdom.  Flato. 
 
 DEPOKTMENT— Christian. 
 
 1.  It  should  be  holy.  "  Be  ye  holy  in 
 all  manner  of  conversation." 
 
 2.  It  should  be  without  offence.  "Be 
 ye  wise  as  serpents  and  harmless  as  doves." 
 "  Give  none  offence,  neither  to  the  Jew,  nor 
 to  the  Greek,  nor  to  the  Church  of  God." 
 
 3.  It  should  be  loving  and  kind.  "Love 
 one  another."  "  Have  fervent  charity 
 among  yourselves."  "Add  to  charity 
 brotherly  kindness." 
 
 4.  It  should  be  full  of  compassion  and 
 mercy.  "  Be  ye  merciful,  as  your  Father 
 in  heaven."  "  Put  on,  as  the  elect  of  God, 
 bowels  of  mercy." 
 
 5.  It  should  be  peaceable.  "And  be  at 
 peace  among  yourselves."  "  The  fruit  of 
 the  Spirit  is  peace."  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 DEPRAVITY— Original. 
 
 Now  there  must  be  some  cause  of  this 
 constant  and  universal  depravity  ;  and  the 
 sacred  historian  refers  it  to  our  nature 
 itself,  when  he  affirms  that  the  "  imagiua- 
 
 tion  of  man's  heart  is  evil  from  his  youth.' 
 The  word  translated  ^^ youth"  is  not  only 
 used  to  denote  the  period  of  life  commonly 
 so  called,  but  comprehends  infancy  also, 
 and  in  the  present  case  (Gen.  viii,  21) 
 must  be  thus  understood;  for  we  cannot 
 account  for  it  that  man  should  be  sinful 
 "  from  his  youth  "  unless  the  seeds  of  evil 
 exist  in  his  constitution — unless  he  be  sin- 
 ful from  the  commencement  of  his  being. 
 Such  a  description  would  not  have  been 
 given  if  we  came  into  the  world  perfectly 
 pure,  or  with  merely  a  tendency  to  evil, 
 which  might  be  checked  in  innumerable 
 eases  by  education,  and  a  variety  of  cir- 
 cumstances. The  tree  must  be  corrupted 
 to  the  core  which  produced  corrupt  fruit 
 at  first,  and  continues  to  produce  it  as 
 long  as  it  stands.  Dr.  T.  Dick. 
 
 DEPEAVITY— Total, 
 
 All  man's  thoughts,  all  his  desires,  all 
 his  purposes  are  evil,  expressly  or  by  im- 
 plication ;  because  the  subject  of  them  is 
 avowedly  sinful,  or  because  they  do  not 
 proceed  from  a  holy  principle,  and  are  not 
 directed  to  a  proper  end.  It  is  not  oc- 
 casionally that  the  human  soul  isthiis  under 
 the  influence  of  depravity ;  but  this  is  its 
 habit  and  state.  It  seems  impossible  to 
 construct  a  sentence  which  should  more 
 distinctly  express  its  total  corruption  than 
 this  (Gen.  viii,  21).  Ibid. 
 
 DEPRAVITY— Universal. 
 
 If  the  words  which  the  Apostle  uses  here 
 (Rom.  iii,  10 — 19)  do  not  most  fully  and 
 determinately  signify  a  universality,  no 
 words  ever  used  in  the  Bible,  or  elsewhere, 
 are  sufficient  to  do  it.  I  might  challenge  any 
 man  to  produce  any  one  paragraph  in  the 
 Scripture,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end, 
 where  there  is  such  a  repetition  and  accu- 
 mulation of  terms,  so  strongly,  and  em- 
 phatically, and  carefully  to  express  the 
 most  perfect  and  absolutely  universality, 
 or  any  place  to  be  compared  to  it.  What 
 instance  is  there  in  the  Scripture,  or  in- 
 deed any  other  writing,  when  the  meaning 
 is  only  the  much  greater  part,  where  this 
 meaning  is  signified  in  such  a  manner  by 
 repeating  such  expressions,  "  They  are  all," 
 "  they  are  all,"  "  they  are  all-together," 
 "every  one,"  "all  the  world;"  joined  to 
 multiplied  negative  terms,  to  show  the 
 universality  to  be  without  exception,  say- 
 ing, "  There  is  no  flesh,"  "  there  is  none, 
 there  is  none,  there  is  none,  there  is  none," 
 four  times  over ;  besides  the  addition  of 
 "no,  not  one — no,  not  one,"  once  and 
 again  ....  So  that  if  this  matter  [uni- 
 versal depravity]  be  not  here  set  forth 
 plainly,  expressly,  and  fully,  it  must  be 
 because  no  words  can  do  it ;  and  it  is  not 
 in  the  power  of  language,  or  any  manner 
 of  terms  and  phrases,  however  contrived 
 
DEPEAVITY  IN  CHILDREN— DESIRE. 
 
 253 
 
 and   heaped   one   upon  another,   determi- 
 nately  to  signify  any  such  thing. 
 
 Jonathan  Edwards. 
 
 DEPRAVITY  IN  CHILDREN. 
 
 Witliout   calling    in   the   statements    of 
 theology,  without  appealing  to  the  asser- 
 tions which    inspired  writers  make  as  to 
 the  radical   depravity  of  our  nature,  you 
 may  safely  refer  to  all  who  have  observed 
 eveu  children,  or  who  have  watched  them 
 not  only  in  their  moments  of  joyousness, 
 hut  in  those  also  of  fretfulness  and  passion, 
 to  evidence  that  what  Solomon  calls  "  fool- 
 ishness," by  which    he   means    sinfulness, 
 "  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child,"  and 
 that   almost    from    its   birth  may  be   dis- 
 covered the  evidence  of  a  proud,  and  re- 
 vengeful,   and     self-willed     man.      It     is 
 universally  admitted   that  there  is    some- 
 thing very  touching  and  afl'ecting  in  the 
 death  of  young  children.     We  know  that 
 they   cannot   have    committed   actual  sin, 
 forasmuch   as  they  have  not  reached  the 
 age  at  which  rational  beings  can  be  con- 
 sidered accountable  for  their  conduct.     We 
 have,  therefore,  no  other  way  for  explain- 
 ing the  i)henomenon   of  their   death,  no 
 other  reason  to  give  why  there  should  be 
 the  consequence  where  there  has  not  been 
 the   commission  of  sin,   except   what   we 
 draw  from  the  apostacy  of  Adam.     We  are 
 bound  to  conclude  that  the  children  trans- 
 gressed in  the  persons  of  our  first  parents, 
 so  that  there  is  hereditary  gudtiuess  where 
 there  cannot  be  actual.     Thus  the  doctrine 
 of  original  sin   is  eloquently  taught,  and 
 powerfully    confirmed,    when     an     infant 
 sickens  and  dies.     We  may  scatter  flowers 
 over  its  grave,  as  emblems  of  its  sweetness 
 and  innocence;  but  itself  a  blighted  flower, 
 is  of  all  proofs  the  strongest  that  it  sprang 
 from   a   blighted  stock.      But   this  is  far 
 enough  from  the  only  way  in  which  the 
 infant  bears  testimony  to  the  depravity  of 
 our  nature.     The  testimony  from  its  life  is 
 yet  stronger,  and  more  explicit  than  that 
 from  its  death.     If  we  wish  to  teach  you 
 degeneracy  of  man,  to  prove  that  he  is  by 
 nature  altogether  alienated  from  righteous- 
 ness, we  do  not  send  you  into  the  midst  of 
 the  struggle  and  din  of  our  cities — we  do 
 not  bid  you  observe  the  maturity  of  crime, 
 the  spectacle  of  full-grown  and  unrestrained 
 wickedness,    for    you    may    fairly    argue 
 against  all  such  proof;    you    may  say  we 
 did  but  refer  you  to  instances  in  which 
 there  has  been  contracted   an  inveterate 
 habit  of  sinning,  and  that  from  such  in- 
 stances we  cannot  necessarily  conclude  the 
 original  tendency  or  bias.      Tlie  question 
 is  as  to  the  nature  in  itself,  and  not  as  to 
 the  nature  when  all   restraint    has    been 
 thrown  ofi",  and  all  good  principles  aban- 
 doned.    We  quite  admit  this,  and,  there- 
 fore, ia  order  to  prove  to  you  that  the 
 
 nature  itself  is  degenerate  and  depraved,  we 
 do  not  send  you  to  observe  what  is  passing 
 in  society,  where  feuds,  and  jealousies,  and 
 outrages  are  common  things  ;  we  send  you 
 to  our  nurseries,  where,  if  human  nature 
 is  to  be  observed  at  all,  it  may  be  observed 
 as  it  is  in  itself,  before  there  have  been 
 brought  to  bear  on  it  much  of  external  in- 
 fluence, and  before  its  disposition  can  have 
 been  altered,  whether  for  good  or  for  bad ; 
 and  we  are  quite  sure  that  no  unprejudiced 
 party  can  be  proof  against  the  evidences 
 that  our  nurseries  will  give.  He  may 
 be  thoroughly  susceptible  to  all  that  is 
 pleasing  and  engaging  in  childhood— his 
 sensibilities  may  be  quite  alive  to  its  smiles 
 and  its  prattle— but  when  he  observes  the 
 petty  rivalry,  the  selfishness,  the  envying, 
 the  moroseness,  the  anger,  which  are  there 
 displayed,  and  which  would  at  times  be 
 almost  ludicrous  as  pictures  of  what  may- 
 be seen  upon  a  larger  scale  in  society,  if 
 they  were  not  melancholy  displays  of 
 innate  depravity,  he  will  not,  we  think,  be 
 able  to  stave  ott'  the  conviction,  that  there 
 is  corruption  at  the  very  core  of  our  nature, 
 and  that  we  are  "  born  in  sin,  and  shapen 
 in  iniquity."  S.  Melvill. 
 
 DESIRE  (Religious)— Unfeigned. 
 
 1.  An  unfeigned  desire  is  ingenuous : 
 seeks  God  for  His  intrinsical  excellencies, 
 and  the  oriency  of  His  beauty  which 
 shines. 
 
 2.  It  is  insatiable ;  will  not  be  satisfied 
 without  God:  let  the  world  heap  its  all 
 upon  it,  there  is  no  satisfaction.  Not 
 flowers  or  music  will  content  him  that  is 
 thirsty. 
 
 3.  It  is  active;  it  flourisheth  into  en- 
 deavour. It  says,  Christ  I  must  have, 
 grace  I  must  have,  I  will  have  heaven, 
 though  I  take  it  by  storm  :  he  who  desires 
 water,  will  let  down  the  bucket  into  the 
 well  to  draw  it  up. 
 
 4.  It  is  superlative;  we  desire  Christ, 
 not  only  more  than  the  world,  but  more 
 than  heaven  (Ps.  Ixxiii,  25).  Heaven  itself 
 would  not  satisfy  without  Christ;  Christ 
 is  the  diamond  in  the  ring  of  glory;  if 
 God  should  say  to  the  soul,  I  will  put 
 thee  into  heaven,  but  I  will  hide  my  face 
 from  thee,  I  will  draw  a  curtain  between, 
 that  thou  shalt  not  behold  my  glory ;  the 
 soul  would  not  be  satisfied,  but  say  as 
 Absalom,  "  Now,  therefore,  let  me  see  the 
 king's  face." 
 
 5.  It  is  gradual ;  it  increases  as  the  sun 
 in  the  horizon :  a  little  of  God  will  not 
 satisfy ;  a  drop  of  water  is  not  enough  for 
 the  thirsty  traveller.  The  Christian  is 
 thankful  lor  what  grace  he  has,  still  he 
 thirsts  for  more.  A  glimpse  of  Christ 
 through  the  lattice  of  an  ordinance  is 
 sweet ;  and  now  the  soul  will  never  leave 
 longing  till  it  sees  Him  face  to  face.    We 
 
254 
 
 DESIRE  AND  DELIGHT— DESPAIR. 
 
 would  he  swallowed  up  in  God,  and  he 
 ever  bathing  ourselves  iu  those  perfumed 
 waters  of  pleasure  which  run  at  His  right 
 Land  for  ever.  T.  Watson. 
 
 DESIRE  AND  DELIGHT. 
 
 Desire  is  love  exercised  tipon  a  good 
 which  we  behold  at  a  distance,  and  are 
 reaching  at;  delight  is  love  solacing  itself 
 in  a  present  good.  They  are  as  wings  and 
 arms  of  love ;  those  for  pursuits,  these  for 
 embraces.  Or,  the  former  is  love  in  mo- 
 tion, the  latter  love  in  rest;  and,  as  in 
 bodily  motion  and  rest,  that  is  in  order  to 
 this,  and  is  perfected  in  it.        JoJm  Sowe. 
 
 DESIRES— Moderate. 
 
 He  that  is  much  habituated  to  delight 
 in  God  is  not  apt  to  foolish,  extravagant 
 desires.  This  is  the  sense  of  such  a  one, 
 "  Not  my  will.  Lord,  but  Thine  be  done." 
 He  may  desire  the  same  thing  that  others 
 do,  yet  not  with  the  same  peremptory  and 
 precipitant  desire,  but  with  a  desire  tem- 
 pered with  submission  and  with  a  reserved 
 deference  of  the  matter  to  the  Divine 
 pleasure:  "This  thing.  Lord,  I  desire  if 
 Thou  see  good."  So  that  the  general  ob- 
 ject of  such  a  one's  desire  is  only  that 
 which  in  the  Divine  estimate  is  fit  and 
 good  for  him  ;  and  though  he  desire  this 
 or  that  particular  thing,  yet  not  as  it  is 
 this  thing,  but  as  supposing  it  possible 
 this  thing  may  be  judged  fit  for  him  by 
 the  Supreme  VVisdom,  whereto  he  hath  re- 
 ferred the  matter.  John  Iloive. 
 
 DESIRES— and  the  Passions. 
 
 The  passions  and  desires,  like  the  two 
 twists  of  a  rope,  mutually  mix  one  with  the 
 other,  and  twine  inextricably  round  the 
 heart;  producing  good,  if  moderately  in- 
 dulged ;  but  certain  destruction,  if  sufi'ered 
 to  become  inordinate.  li.  Burton. 
 
 DESIRES— the  Pulse  of  the  Soul. 
 
 Desires  are  the  pulses  of  the  soul ;  as 
 physicians  judge  by  appetite,  so  may  you 
 by  desires.  A  spiritual  dropsy,  or  an  un- 
 satisfied thirst,  argues  a  distempered  soul, 
 when,  like  the  horseleech's  daughter,  you 
 still  cry,  "  Give,  give,"  and  you  are  never 
 contented,  but  must  have  more. 
 
 T.  Manton. 
 
 DESIRES— in  Religion. 
 
 As  the  spark  to  the  fire ;  as  the  bud  to 
 the  leaf;  as  the  blossom  to  the  fruit;  as 
 tho  morning  twilight  to  the  day;  so  are 
 desires  in  religion.  As  from  the  spark  may 
 come  the  fire  ;  fi-om  the  bud  the  leaf;  from 
 the  blossom  the  fruit;  from  the  twilight 
 the  noon-day,  so  from  desires  may  come 
 forth  the  life,  beauty,  force,  and  usefulness 
 of  religion.  If  there  is  no  spark,  there  can 
 be  no  tire  :  no  bud,  no  leaf;  no  blossom,  no 
 
 fruit ;   no  twilight,  no  day :   so  if  there  is 
 no  desire  there  can  be  no  religion. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 DESIRES— Sin  in. 
 
 Desires  are  the  first  issues  and  sallyings 
 out  of  the  soul  to  unlawful  objects.  They 
 are  sin,  as  it  were,  in  its  first  formation. 
 For  as  soon  as  the  heart  has  once  conceived 
 this  fatal  seed  (sin),  it  first  quickens  and 
 begins  to  stir  in  desire;  concupiscence  is 
 the  prime  and  leading  sin,  which  gives  life 
 and  influence  to  all  the  rest,  so  that  the 
 ground  and  principal  prohibition  of  the 
 law  is,  "Thou  shalt  not  covet."  And  in 
 Matt,  v,  we  see  how  severely  the  Gospel 
 arraigns  the  very  first  movings  of  every 
 irregular  appetite,  making  them  equal  to 
 the  gross  perpetration  of  the  sin.  And, 
 indeed,  action  is  only  a  consummation  of 
 desire ;  and  could  we  imagine  an  outward 
 action  perlbrmable  without  it,  it  would  be 
 rather  the  shell  and  outside  of  a  sin  than 
 properly  a  sin  itself.  Dr.  South. 
 
 DESPAIR— Attendants  of. 
 
 Lean  abstinence,  pale  grief,  and  haggard 
 
 care. 
 The  dire  attendants  of  forlorn  despair. 
 
 Fattison, 
 DESPAIR— Calmness  of. 
 The  fond  illusions  I  have  cherish'd — 
 
 Anticipations  once  so  fair — 
 Calmly  1  hear  they  all  have  perish'd — 
 
 But  'tis  the  calmness  of  despair. 
 
 J.  T.  Watson. 
 
 DESPAIR— Courage  of. 
 
 Despair 
 Gives  courage  to  the  weak.     Resolv'd  to 
 
 die. 
 He  fears  no  more,  but  rushes  on  his  foes, 
 And  deals  his  deaths  around.       Somervllle. 
 
 DESPAIR— Death  of. 
 
 So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the 
 four  young  men,  went  to  go  up  to  Doubt- 
 ing Castle,  to  look  for  Giant  Despair. 
 When  they  came  at  the  castle  gate,  they 
 knocked  for  entrance  with  an  unusual 
 noise.  At  that  the  old  Giant  comes  to  the 
 gate,  and  Difiidence,  his  wife,  follows. 
 Then  said  he,  Who  and  what  is  he  that  is 
 so  hardy  as  after  this  manner  to  molest  the 
 Giant  Despair  ?  Mr.  Great-heart  replied. 
 It  is  I,  Great-heart,  one  of  the  King  of  the 
 Celestial  country's  conductors  of  pilgrims 
 to  their  place;  and  I  demand  of  thee  that 
 thou  open  thy  gates  for  my  entrance ;  pre- 
 pare thyself  also  to  fight,  for  I  am  come  to 
 take  away  thy  head,  and  to  demolish 
 Doubting  Castle. 
 
 Now  Giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a 
 giant,  thought  no  man  could  overcome 
 iiim  :  and  again,  thought  he,  Since  hereto- 
 fore I   have   made  a  conquest  of  angels. 
 
DESPAIR. 
 
 255 
 
 shall  Great-heart  mal^e  me  afraid  ?  So  he 
 harnessed  himself,  and  went  out  :  he  had  a 
 cap  of  steel  upon  his  head,  a  breast-plate 
 of  fire  girded  to  him,  and  he  came  out  in 
 iron  shoes,  with  a  great  club  in  his  hand. 
 Then  these  six  men  made  up  to  him,  and 
 beset  him  behind  and  before ;  also  when 
 Diffidence,  the  giantess,  came  up  to  help 
 him,  old  Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down  at  one 
 blow.  Then  they  fought  for  their  lives, 
 and  Giant  Despair  was  brought  down  to 
 the  ground,  but  was  very  loth  to  die.  He 
 struggled  hard,  and  had,  as  they  say,  as 
 many  lives  as  a  cat ;  but  Great-heart  was 
 his  death,  for  he  left  him  not  till  he  had 
 severed  his  head  from  his  shoulders. 
 
 Bunyan. 
 DESPAIR— Defiance  of. 
 Despair  defies  even  despotism ;  there  is 
 That  in  my  heart  would  make  its  way  thro' 
 
 hosts 
 With  levell'd  spears.  Lord  Byron. 
 
 DESPAIR— Features  of. 
 
 Despair  is  like  froward  children,  who, 
 when  you  take  away  one  of  their  play- 
 things, throw  the  rest  into  the  fire  for 
 madness.  It  grows  angry  with  itself, 
 turns  its  own  executioner,  and  revenges 
 its  misfortunes  on  its  own  head.  It  re- 
 fuses to  live  under  disappointments  and 
 crosses,  and  chooses  rather  not  to  be  at  all, 
 than  to  be  without  the  thing  which  it 
 hath  once  imagined  necessary  to  its  happi- 
 ness. Charron. 
 
 DESPAIR— Hope  against. 
 Despair  not,  Virtue,  who  in  sorrow's  hour 
 Sigh'st  to  behold  some  idol  overthrown, 
 And    from    the    shade    of    thy    domestic 
 bower 
 Some  green  branch  gone,  some  bird  of 
 ,       promise  flown :  , 
 
 God  chastens  but  to  prove  thy  faithfulness. 
 And  in  thy  weakness  He  will  be  thy  stay ; 
 Trust  and  deserve,  and  He  will  soothe  and 
 bless ; — 
 The  darkest  hour  is  on  the  verge  of  day. 
 Despair  not,  Man,  however  low  thy  state. 
 Nor  scorn  small  blessings  that  around 
 thee  fall ; 
 Learn  to  disdain  the  impious  creed  of  fate. 
 And  own  the  Providence  that  governs 
 all. 
 If  thou  art  baffled  in  thy  earnest  will. 
 Thy  conscience    clear,   thy   reason   not 
 astray. 
 Be  this  thy  faith  and  consolation  still, — 
 The  darkest   hour  is   on  the   verge   of 
 day.  Frlnce. 
 
 DESPAIR— Language  of. 
 
 So  farewell  hope,  and  with  hope  fiirewell 
 
 fear, 
 Farewell  remorse ;  all  good  to  me  is  lost ; 
 Evil,  be  thou  my  good.  Milton. 
 
 DESPAIR— Man  of. 
 
 Interpreter  took  Christian  by  the  hand 
 and  led  him  into  a  very  dark  room,  where 
 there  sat  a  man  in  an  iron  cage. 
 
 Now  the  man  to  look  on  seemed  very 
 sad ;  he  sat  with  his  eyes  looking  down  on 
 the  ground,  his  hands  folded  together; 
 and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would  break  his 
 heart.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means 
 this  ?  At  which  the  Interpreter  bid  him 
 talk  with  the  man. 
 
 Then  said  Christian  to  the  man,  What 
 art  thou  ?  The  man  answered,  I  am  what 
 I  was  not  once. 
 
 Chr.  What  wast  thou  once? 
 
 Man.  The  man  said,  I  was  once  a  fair 
 and  flourishing  professor,  both  in  mine 
 own  eyes,  and  also  in  the  eyes  of  others ;  I 
 once  was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the  Celes- 
 tial City,  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the 
 thoughts  that  I  should  get  thither  (Luke 
 viii,  13). 
 
 Chr.  Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 
 
 Maji.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and 
 am  shut  up  in  it,  as  in  this  iron  cage.  I 
 cannot  get  out :  oh,  now  I  cannot ! 
 
 Chr.  But  how  earnest  thou  into  this 
 condition  ? 
 
 Man.  I  left  oflf  to  watch  and  be  sober ; 
 I  laid  the  reins  upon  the  neck  of  my  lusts ; 
 I  sinned  against  the  light  of  the  Word, 
 and  the  goodness  of  God  ;  I  have  grieved 
 the  Spirit,  and  He  is  gone ;  I  tempted  the 
 devil,  and  he  is  come  to  me;  I  have  pro- 
 voked God  to  anger,  and  He  has  left  me-; 
 I  have  so  hardened  my  heart,  that  I  cannot 
 repent. 
 
 Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter, 
 But  is  there  no  hope  for  such  a  man  as 
 this  ?     Ask  him,  said  the  Interpreter. 
 
 Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no 
 hope,  but  you  must  be  kept  in  the  iron  cage 
 of  despair  ? 
 
 Man.  No,  none  at  all. 
 
 Chr.  Why,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  is 
 very  pitiful. 
 
 Man.  I  have  crucified  Him  to  myself 
 afresh  ;  I  have  despised  His  righteousness; 
 I  have  counted  His  blood  an  unholy  thing  ; 
 I  have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace 
 (Luke  xix,  14 ;  Heb.  vi,  4—6 ;  x.  28,  29) ; 
 therefore  I  have  shut  myself  out  of  all  the 
 promises,  and  there  now  remains  to  me 
 nothingbut  threatenings,  dreadful  threaten- 
 ings,  faithful  threatenings,  of  certain  judg- 
 ment and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall 
 devour  me  as  an  adversary. 
 
 Chr.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself 
 into  this  condition  ? 
 
 Man.  For  the  lusts,  pleasures,  and  pro- 
 fits of  tliis  world;  in  the  enjoyment  of 
 which  I  did  then  promise  myself  much 
 delight ;  but  now  every  one  of  those  things 
 bite  me,  and  gnaw  me  like  a  burning  worm. 
 Bunyan. 
 
256 
 
 DESPAIR— DETEACTION. 
 
 DESPAIS,— Miseries  of. 
 
 But  desperate  is  their  doom  whom  doubt 
 has  driven 
 To  censured  fate,  and  pious  hope  forego ; 
 Like  yonder  blasted  boughs  by  lightning 
 riven. 
 Perfection,  beauty,  life,  they  never  know, 
 But  frown  on  all  who  pass,  a  monument  of 
 woe.  Beattie. 
 
 Mine  after-life !  what  is  mine  after-life  ? 
 My  day  is  closed !  the  gloom  of  night  is 
 
 come  ! 
 A  hopeless  darkness  settles  o'er  my  fate'. 
 
 Joanna  BailUe. 
 
 Talk  not  of  comfort — 'tis  for  lighter  ills; 
 I  will  indulge  my  sorrow,  and  give  way 
 To  all  the  pangs  and  fury  of  despair. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 DESPAIR— Weakness  of. 
 
 Saul  owed  his  defeat  more  to  the  ma- 
 lign influence  of  the  witch  of  Eiidor,  than 
 to  the  arms  of  the  Philistines.  When  she 
 buried  hope  in  his  brave  heart,  she  dug  his 
 grave;  victory  vanished  with  the  mantled 
 jjhantom;  and  when  Saul,  pale,  haggard, 
 bis  spirits  depressed,  his  courage  sunken  as 
 his  eye,  went  to  fight,  he  had  no  chance. 
 Tlie  battle  of  Gilboa  was  lost  before  it  was 
 begun.  Despair  in  truth  is  about  as  bad 
 a  leader  as  presumption — this  is  Scylla, 
 that  Charybdis;  and  both  extremes,  the 
 rock,  horrid  with  breakers,  and  the  glassy 
 but  treacherous  whirpool,  are  alike  fatal. 
 Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 DESPONDENCY- A  Check  to. 
 
 There's  not  a  star  the  heaven  can  show, 
 
 There's  not  a  cottage  hearth  below, 
 But  feeds  with  solace  kind  the  willing  soul : 
 
 Men  love  us,  or  they  need  our  love ; 
 
 Freely  they  own,  or  heedless  prove 
 The  curse  of  lawless  hearts,  the  joy  of  self- 
 control. 
 
 Then  rouse  thee  from  desponding  sleep, 
 
 Nor  by  the  wayside  lingering  weep, 
 Nor  fear  to  seek  Him  farther  in  the  wild, 
 
 Whose  love  can  turn  earth's  worst  and 
 least 
 
 Into  a  conqueror's  royal  feast ; 
 Thou  wilt  not  be  untrue,  thou   sbalt  not 
 be  beguil'd.  J.  Keble. 
 
 DESTINY  AND  FATE. 
 
 These  terms  are  employed  with  regard 
 to  human  events  which  are  not  under 
 one's  control.  Destiny  is  used  in  regard 
 to  one's  station  and  walk  in  life ;  fate  in 
 regard  to  what  one  suffers.  Destiny  is 
 marked  out;  fate  is  fixed.  It  was  the 
 Destiny  of  Julius  Csesar  to  act  a  great  part 
 in  the  world,  and  to  establish  a  new  form 
 of  government  at  Rome;  it  was  his/a^e  at 
 
 last  to  die  by  the  hands  of  assassins,  the 
 chief  of  whom  had  been  his  avowed  friends. 
 A  parent  may  have  great  inrtuence  over 
 the  destiny  of  his  child,  by  the  education 
 he  gives  to  him,  or  the  principles  he  instils 
 into  his  mind;  there  are  many  who  owe 
 their  unhappy  fate  entirely  to  the  want  of 
 early  habits  of  piety.  It  is  the  destiny  of 
 some  men  to  be  always  changing  their 
 plan  of  life;  it  is  but  too  frequently  the 
 fate  of  authors  to  labour  for  the  benefit  of 
 mankind,  and  to  reap  nothing  for  them- 
 selves but  poverty  and  neglect.     G.  Crabb. 
 
 DETERMINATION— Firmness  of. 
 Let  come  what  will,  I  mean  to  bear  it  out, 
 And  either  live  with  glorious  victory 
 Or  die  with  fame,  renown'd  in  chivalry. 
 He  is  not  worthy  of  the  honey-comb 
 That  shuns  the  hive  because  the  bees  have 
 stings.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Although 
 The  air  of  Paradise  did  fiin  the  house, 
 And  angels  offic'd  all,  I  wiU  be  gone 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 I'll  speak  to  it,  though  hell  itself  should 
 
 gape. 
 And  bid  me  hold  my  peace.  Ibid. 
 
 DETERMINATION— Invincible. 
 
 The  longer  I  live,  the  more  T  am  certain 
 that  the  great  difference  between  men — 
 between  the  feeble  and  the  powerful,  the 
 great  and  the  insignificant— is  energy,  in- 
 vincible determination — a  purpose  once 
 fixed,  and  death  or  victory  !  That  quality 
 will  do  anything  that  can  be  done  in  the 
 world;  and  no  talents,  no  circumstances, 
 no  opportunities,  will  make  a  two-legged 
 creature  a  man  without  it.    Sir  F.  Buxton. 
 
 DETRACTION— Meanness  of. 
 
 Unjustifiable  detraction  always  proves  the 
 weakness  as  well  as  meanness  of  the  party 
 that  employs  it.  To  be  constantly  carping 
 at  and  exaggerating  petty  blemishes  in  the 
 characters  of  others,  putting  an  unfavor- 
 able construction  on  their  language,  or 
 "  damning  with  faint  praise"  their  deeds, 
 betrays  on  the  part  of  the  detractor  a 
 conscious  inability  to  maintain  a  reputable 
 standing  on  legitimate  and  honorable 
 ground.  The  course  pui-sued  proves  hira 
 to  be  a  sour,  surly,  mean-spirited  creature, 
 and  we  may  at  once  conclude  that  he  is  a 
 man  disappointed  and  broken  down.  He 
 belongs  to  the  miserable  race  whose  special 
 vocation  it  is  to  "  murder  fame," — loath- 
 some leeches  on  the  body  politic ;  or  fero- 
 cious vampire  bats,  that  mutilate  all  the 
 pure  things  they  can  reach,  and  corrode 
 with  their  poisonous  slime  everything  they 
 do  not  speeflily  destroy.        E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
DETRACTION— DEVIL. 
 
 257 
 
 DETRACTION— a  Monster. 
 Detraction's  a  bold  monster,  and  fears  not 
 To  wound  the  fame  of  princes,  if  it  find 
 But  any  Llemish  in  their  lives  to  work  on. 
 Masshiger. 
 
 DEVIATION— Danger  of. 
 
 As  Michael  Futcher,  of  Romsey,  -was 
 valking  on  the  Terrace  at  Windsor  in 
 company  with  the  daughter  of  a  Friend  in 
 London,  King  George  and  the  Queen 
 Charlotte  drew  towards  them.  Both  enter- 
 ing freely  into  conversation  with  Michael 
 Futcher,  the  king  inquired  whether  there 
 were  many  of  his  Society  residing  in  his 
 neighbourhood,  saying  they  were  a  people 
 he  had  a  great  respect  for.  Addressing 
 the  female,  he  inquired  if  she  was  not  one 
 of  the  Society.  She  replied  she  professed 
 to  be.  The  king  then  said,  "  Is  there  not 
 here  too  much  gauze  ?"  She  acknowledged 
 she  had  deviated,  and  was  sorrj'  for  it. 
 The  king  replied,  "  And  I  am  sorry  for  it 
 too ;  for  when  people  once  lefjin  to  deviate 
 they  do  not  know  where  to  stop." 
 
 To  what  gxilphs 
 A  single  deviation  from  the  track 
 Of  human  duties  leads !  Lord  Byron. 
 
 DEVIL— Circuit  of  the. 
 
 The  devil  is  no  idle  spirit,  but  a  walker, 
 a  vagrant,  runagate  walker,  like  Cain,  that 
 cannot  rest  in  a  place.  I  have  heard  of 
 travellers  that  have  seen  many  parts  of 
 the  world,  but  never  any  perpetual  peripa- 
 tetic, or  universal  walker,  but  Satan,  who 
 hath  travelled  all  coasts  and  corners  of  the 
 earth,  and  would  of  heaven  too,  if  he 
 might  be  admitted :  he  is  not  like  St. 
 George's  statue,  ever  on  horseback,  and 
 never  riding;  but  as  if  he  were  knight- 
 marshal  of  the  whole  world,  he  is  ever 
 walking.  His  motion  is  circular,  and  his 
 unwearied  steps  know  no  rest;  he  hath  a 
 large  and  endless  circuit.  His  walk  is  a 
 siege,  that  goes  about  the  fort  to  find  the 
 weakest  place,  as  easiest  for  battery.  "  He 
 walketh  about  as  a  roaring  lion,  seeking 
 whom  he  may  devour"  (1  Pet.  v,  8).  His 
 walks  are  the  circumference,  and  man  the 
 centre.  The  motive,  cause,  and  main  in- 
 tention of  his  journey  is  to  win  man. 
 
 As  he  walks  through  the  streets,  there 
 he  throws  a  short  measure,  a  false  balance, 
 into  a  tradesman's  shop.  He  steps  into 
 a  drinking  house  and  kindles  a  quarrel. 
 He  shoulders  to  the  bar,  and  pops  in  a 
 forged  evidence,  a  counterfeit  seal.  He 
 dares  enter  the  schools,  and  commence 
 schisms  and  contentions;  nay,  climb  up 
 into  the  pulpit  and  broach  sects  and 
 divisions.  He  travels  no  ground,  but,  like 
 a  stinking  fog,  or  dying  oppressor,  he 
 leaves  a  scent  behind  Lim.  T.  Adaim. 
 
 DEVIL— Fighting  the. 
 
 He  who  would  fight  the  devil  with  his 
 own  weapon  must  not  wonder  if  he  finds 
 him  an  over  match.  South. 
 
 DEVIL— Names  of  the. 
 
 Abaddon;  Accuser  of  the  brethren; 
 Adversary ;  Angel  of  the  bottomless  pit ; 
 ApoUyon;  Beelzebub;  Belial;  Crooked 
 serpent ;  Dragon  ;  Enemy ;  Evil  Spirit ; 
 Father  of  lies ;  Great  Red 'Dragon;  Levia- 
 than; Liar;  Lying  Spirit;  Murderer; 
 Old  Serpent;  Power  of  darkness;  Prince 
 of  this  world;  Prince  of  the  devils;  Prince 
 of  the  power  of  the  air ;  Ruler  of  the  dark- 
 ness  of  this  world ;  Satan  ;  Serpent ;  Spirit 
 that  worketh  in  the  children  of  disobe- 
 dience; Tempter;  the  God  of  this  world; 
 Unclean  Spirit ;  Wicked  one.     John  Bate. 
 
 DEVIL— Religious. 
 
 The  most  deadly  project  is  often  draped 
 in  the  fairest  religious  habiliments,  because 
 the  worse  the  intent  is,  the  better  appear- 
 ance it  desires  to  make.  No  devil  is  so 
 dangerous  as  the  religious  devil.  He  is  a 
 sheep  without,  a  wolf  within,  who,  if  he 
 ever  speaks  truth,  will  confess — 
 
 "  Why,  I  can  smile,  and  murder  while  I 
 
 smile ; 
 And  cry  content  to  that  which  grieves  my 
 
 heart ; 
 And  wet  my  cheek  with  artificial  tears; 
 And  frame  my  face  to  all  occasions." 
 
 E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 DEVIL— "Work  of  the. 
 
 And  in  general  we  may  observe  that  as 
 no  good  is  done,  or  spoken,  or  thought,  by 
 any  man  without  the  assistance  of  God, 
 working  together  in  and  with  those  that 
 believe  in  Him ;  so  there  is  no  evil  done,  or 
 spoken,  or  thought,  without  the  assistance 
 of  the  devil,  who  worketh  with  energy — 
 with  strong  though  secret  power — in  the 
 children  of  unbelief.  Thus  he  entered  into 
 Judas,  confirming  him  in  the  design  of  be- 
 ti-aying  his  Master.  Thus  he  put  it  into 
 the  heart  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  to  lie 
 unto  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  in  like  manner 
 he  has  a  share  in  all  the  actions,  and  wor'I*, 
 and  designs  of  evil  men.  As  the  child  »U 
 of  God  are  workers  together  with  God  in 
 every  good  thought,  or  word,  or  action; 
 so  the  children  of  the  devil  are  workers 
 together  with  him  in  every  evil  thought, 
 or  word,  or  work.  So  that,  as  all  good 
 tempers,  and,  remotely,  all  good  words  and 
 actions,  are  the  fruit  of  the  good  Spirit; 
 in  like  manner,  all  evil  temjiers,  with  all 
 the  words  and  works  which  spring  from 
 them,  are  the  fruits  of  the  evil  spirit;  in- 
 somuch that  all  the  works  of  the  flesh,  of 
 our  evil  nature,  are  likewise  the  work  of 
 the  devil.  J.  Wesley 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 rSVILS— DEW. 
 
 DEVILS— Incarnate. 
 
 Dark,  profoundly  hellish,  as  is  the  charac- 
 ter of  Satan  in  the  Scriptures,  and  in  human 
 hooks  of  imagination,  do  you  not  think  that 
 there  are  men  who  are  the  devil's  masters  in 
 art,  in  craft,  in  lying,  in  everything  which  is 
 devilish  ?  Have  yon  not  sometimes  felt  as 
 though  you  could  do  his  Satanic  majesty 
 reverence  and  respect  in  comparison  with 
 them  ?  Talk  of  devils  being  confined  to  hell, 
 or  confined  to  invisibility  !  W'.e  have  them 
 by  shoals  in  the  crowded  towns  and  cities 
 of  the  world.  Talk  of  raising  the  devil ! 
 What  need  for  that  when  they  ai'e  con- 
 stantly walking  to  and  Iro  in  our  streets, 
 seeking  whom  they  may  devour.  There 
 they  are ;  do  you  not  see  them  ?  you  do 
 not  recognise  them  simply  because  they 
 have  not  the  fooi  or  the  tail.  Anon. 
 
 DEVOTION— Early. 
 
 When  first  thy  eyes  unveil,  give  thy  soul 
 leave 
 To  do  the  like;  our  bodies  but  forerun 
 The  spirit's  duty ;  true  hearts  spread  and 
 heave 
 Unto  their  God  as  flowers  do  to  the  sun ; 
 Give  Him  thy  first  thoughts,  then,  so  shalt 
 
 thou  keep 
 Him  company  all  day,  and  in  Him  sleep. 
 
 Yet  never  sleep  the  sun  up ;  prayer  should 
 Dawn  with  the  day;  there  are  set,  awful 
 
 hours 
 'Twixt  heaven  and  us.     The  manna  was 
 
 not  good 
 After  sun-rising ;  far  day  sullies  flowers  : 
 Rise  to  prevent  the  sun;   sleep  doth  sins 
 
 glut, 
 And  heaven's  gate  opens  when  the  world's 
 
 is  shut. 
 
 Walk  with  thy  fellow-creatures ;  note  the 
 
 hush 
 And  whisperings  amongst  them.     Not  a 
 
 spring, 
 Or  leaf,  but  hath  his  morning  hymn ;  each 
 
 bush 
 And  oak  doth  know  I  AM. — Canst  thou 
 
 not  sing  ? 
 Above  thy  cares  and  follies !  go  this  way, 
 And  thou  art  sure  to  prosper  all  the  day. 
 
 Serve  God  before  the  vorld  :  let  Him  not  go 
 
 Until  thou  hast  a  blessing;  then  resign 
 
 The  whole  unto  Him,  and  remember  who 
 
 Prevail'd  by  wrestling  ere  the  sun  did 
 
 shine : 
 
 Pour  oil  upon  the  stones,  weep  for  thy  sin. 
 
 Then  journey   on    and    have   an    eye    to 
 
 heaven.  Jff.  Vaughan. 
 
 DEVOTION— Glowing. 
 
 Devotion  when  lukewarm  is  undevout ; 
 But  when  it  glows,  its  heat  is  struck  to 
 heaven ; 
 
 To  human   hearts  her   golden   harps   are 
 
 strung ; 
 High  heaven's  orchestra  chants  Amen  to 
 
 man.  Young. 
 
 DEVOTION— Pure. 
 
 The  immortal  gods 
 Accept  the  meanest  altars  that  are  raised 
 By  pure  devotions ;  and  sometimes  prefer 
 An  ounce  of  frankincense,  honey,  or  milk, 
 Before  whole  hecatombs,  or  Sabacau  gems, 
 Ofl'er'd  in  ostentation.  Massinger. 
 
 DEVOTION— Temple  of. 
 
 The  secret  heart 
 Is  fair  Devotion's  temple ;  there  the  saint, 
 E'en  on  that  living  altar,  lights  the  flume 
 Of  purest  sacriflce,  which  burns  unseen, 
 Not  unaccepted.  Hannah  More. 
 
 DEVOTIONS— Private  and  Public. 
 
 Private  devotions  and  secret  offices  of 
 religion  are  like  the  refreshing  of  a  garden 
 with  the  distilling  and  petty  drops  of  a 
 water-pot ;  but  addressed  from  the  temple, 
 are  like  rain  from  heaven.  B]p.  Taylor. 
 
 DEVOTIONS— Solid. 
 
 Solid  devotions  resemble  the  rivers  which 
 run  under  the  earth  —  they  steal  from  the 
 eyes  of  the  world,  to  seek  the  eyes  of  God; 
 and  it  often  happens  that  those  of  whom 
 we  speak  least  on  earth,  are  best  known  in 
 heaven.  N.  Cavssin. 
 
 DEW — Grace  of  God  as. 
 
 The  grace  of  Gci  is  like  dew  to  the 
 barren  and  parched  hearts  of  men,  to  make 
 them  fruitful.  And  there  are  many  things 
 wherein  the  proportion  and  resemblance 
 stands : 
 
 1.  None  can  give  the  dew  hut  God.  It 
 comes  from  above ;  it  is  of  a  celestial  ori- 
 ginal; the  nativity  thereof  is  from  "the 
 womb  of  the  morning."  None  can  give 
 grace  but  God. 
 
 2.  De^v  is  the  fruit  of  a  serene,  clear,  and 
 quiet  heaven :  for  dew  never  falleth  either 
 in  scorching  or  tempestuous  weather,  as 
 philosophers  have  observed.  In  like  mau- 
 ner,  the  grace,  favour,  and  blessings  of  God 
 are  the  fruits  of  His  reconciled  afl'ectioa 
 towards  us. 
 
 3.  Deio  is  abundant  and  innumerahle. 
 Who  can  number  the  drops  of  dew  on  the 
 ground,  or  the  "hairs  of  little  rain?" — 
 for  so  they  are  called  in  the  original,  be- 
 cause of  their  smallness  and  number 
 (Dent,  xxxii,  2).  So  Hushai  expresseth 
 the  multitude  of  all  Israel :  "  We  will 
 light  upon  him  as  the  dew  falleth  upon 
 the  ground."  Such  is  the  grace  of  God 
 unto  His  peojile  after  their  C(.nversion ; 
 unsearchable,  it  cannot  be  comprehendv^d 
 or    measured,    nor    brought    under    any 
 
DEW— DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 259 
 
 number  or  account  (Psa.  Ixxi,  15;  cxxxix, 
 17,  18). 
 
 4.  Deiv  is  silent,  sloiv,  insensible  in  its 
 descent,.     You    cannot    see,    hear,    feel,    or 
 
 ,  smell  its  coming  ;  you  see  it  when  it  is 
 come,  but  cannot  observe  how  it  comes. 
 In  this  manner  was  God  pleased  to  fill 
 the  world  with  the  knowledge  of  His 
 Gospel,  and  with  the  grace  of  His  Spirit, 
 by  cjuiet,  small,  and,  as  it  were,  by  in- 
 sensible means. 
 
 5.  Dew  is  of  a  soft  and  benign  nature, 
 which  gently  insinuateth  and  worketh 
 itself  into  the  ground,  and  by  degree 
 moisteneth  and  mollifieth  it.  In  like 
 manner,  the  Spirit,  the  Grace,  the  Word 
 of  God  is  of  a  searching,  insinuating, 
 softening  quality. 
 
 6.  Deiv  is  of  a  vegetating  and  quiclcening 
 nature.  So  is  the  Grace,  and  Word,  and 
 Spirit  of  God. 
 
 7.  Deiv  is  of  a  refreshing  and  comforting 
 nature — causes  the  face  of  things  to  flourish 
 Avith  beauty  and  deliglit,  especially  in  the 
 hot  countries  of  the  East.  So  God  pro- 
 mises to  be  unto  His  people  in  their 
 troubles,  "  as  a  cloud  of  dew  in  the  heat 
 of  harvest."  His  grace  gives  comfort, 
 peace,  joy,  strength,  and  the  beauty  of 
 holiness  to  them,  Bj).  Eeijnolds. 
 
 DEW— Signification  of. 
 
 Dew,  in  the  natural  signification  of  it, 
 importeth  a  comforting,  refreshing,  en- 
 couraging, and  calling  forth  the  fruits  of 
 the  earth,  as  being  of  a  gentle,  insinuating 
 virtue,  which  leisurely  soaketh  into  the 
 ground ;  and  in  that  sense  is  mentioned 
 as  a  blessing  (Gen.  xxvii,  39).  In  the 
 mystical  and  spiritual  sense  of  it,  it  sig- 
 nifieth  Christ ;  who,  by  His  holy  word  and 
 heavenly  grace  dropping  down  and  dis- 
 tilling upon  the  souls  of  men  (Deut.  xxxii, 
 2;  Job  xxix,  22,  23)— by  His  princely 
 favour  and  loving  countenaTice,  which  is 
 as  a  cloud  of  the  latter  rain  (Prov.  xvi, 
 15) — by  His  heavenly  righteousness,  and 
 most  spiritual  efficacy  (Isa.  xxvi,  19 ;  xlv, 
 8),  doth  so  quicken,  vegetate,  and  revive 
 the  hearts  of  men,  that  they,  like  "  dew 
 from  the  womb  of  the  morning,"  are  born 
 in  great  abundance  unto  Him — as  multi- 
 tudes of  men,  and  believers,  used  to  be 
 expressed  in  the  Scripture  by  "  drops  of 
 dew"  (Psa.  ex,  3;  Mic.  v,  7).  In  one 
 word,  that  which  dew  is  to  the  fields, 
 gardens,  vineyards,  flowers,  fruits  of  the 
 earth,  after  a  hot  and  scorching  day ;  that 
 the  favour,  word,  grace,  loving  counte- 
 nance, and  Holy  Spirit  of  Christ  will  be 
 to  the  drooping  and  aUlicted  consciences 
 of  His  people.  Ibid. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES- Conquered. 
 
 Then  the  Shepherds  led  the  pilgrims  to 
 some  new  places.    The  fii-st  was  Mount 
 
 Marvel,  where  they  looked,  and  beheld  a 
 man  at  a  distance,  that  tumbled  the  hills 
 about  with  words.  Then  they  asked  the 
 Shepherds  what  that  should  mean.  So 
 they  told  them,  that  that  man  was  the  son 
 of  one  Mr.  Great-grace,  and  he  is  set  down 
 there  to  teach  pilgrims  how  to  believe,  or 
 to  tumble  out  of  their  ways  what  difficul- 
 ties they  should  meet  with  by  faith.  Then 
 said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  know  him ;  he  is  a 
 man  above  many.  Bunyan. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— Gain  of. 
 
 Sirs,  are  there  difficulties  in  your  path, 
 hindering  your  pursuit  of  knowledge,  re- 
 straining your  benevolent  endeavour,  mak- 
 ing your  spiritual  life  a  contest  and  a  toil  ? 
 Be  thankful  for  them.  They  will  test  your 
 capabilities  of  resistance.  You  will  be  im- 
 pelled to  persevere  from  the  very  energy 
 of  the  opposition.  If  there  be  any  might 
 in  your  soul,  like  the  avalanche  of  snow, 
 it  will  acquire  additional  momentum  from 
 the  obstacles  which  threaten  to  impede  it. 
 Many  a  man  has  thus  robed  himself  in  the 
 spoils  of  a  vanquished  difficulty,  and  his 
 conquests  have  accumulated  at  every  on- 
 ward and  upward  step,  until  he  has  rested 
 from  his  labour— the  successful  athlete  who 
 has  thrown  the  world.  "  An  unfortunate 
 illustration,"  you  are  ready  to  say,  "for 
 all  cannot  win  the  Olympic  crown,  nor 
 wear  the  Isthmian  laurel.  What  of  him 
 who  fails  ?  How  is  he  recompensed  ? 
 What  does  he  gain?"  What?  Why, 
 Steength  poe  Life.  His  training  has 
 ensured  him  that.  He  will  never  forget 
 the  gymnasium  and  its  lessons.  He  will 
 always  be  a  stalwart  man,  a  man  of  muscle 
 and  of  sinew.     The  real  merit  is  not 
 
 IN  THE    SUCCESS,  BITT   IN   THE  ENDEAVOUR, 
 
 and  win  or  lose  he  will  be  honoured  and 
 crowned.  W.  M.  Funshon, 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— Inevitable. 
 
 Common  observation  ought  to  teach  us 
 how  impossible  it  is  to  avoid  the  rough,  if 
 we  would  succeed  in  any  great  enterprise. 
 No  conqueror  brings  to  a  successful  issue 
 the  war  in  which  he  is  engaged  without 
 encountering  many  difficulties  ;  and  those, 
 over  and  above  what  he  has  to  meet  on  the 
 field  of  bloody  strife  itself.  No  sailor  can 
 bring  his  vessel  to  port,  after  a  long  voy- 
 age, without  having  had  to  weather  some 
 storms,  and  reef  his  sails  in  some  tem- 
 pestuous gales.  The  shopkeeper,  in  his 
 daily  transactions  of  business,  has  to  take 
 the  rough  with  the  smooth ;  the  artizan 
 must  do  the  same,  even  with  the  material 
 upon  which  he  works.  Shall  the  Christian 
 be  the  only  one  who  is  exempted  from  all 
 rough  work,  and  who  is  not  to  be  called 
 upon  for  an  exercise  of  patience  and  of 
 skill  ?  Let  the  Christian  know  that  much 
 of  this  rough  work  from  which  he  shrinks 
 
260 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— DIFFICULTY. 
 
 is  absolutely  necessary  for  his  soul's  health. 
 Carefully  refined  food  would  be  deleterious 
 to  the  body ;  and  God  has  mixed  the  coarse 
 and  fine  in  due  proportions,  so  that  both, 
 together,  nourish  and  expand  the  frame; 
 and  so,  carefully  refined  circumstances,  and 
 spheres  of  acti'ou,  would  be  deleterious  to 
 the  soul,  and  God  has  mingled  the  rough 
 and  smooth;  and  he  who  takes  them  as 
 God  gives  them,  will  be  robust  in  his 
 spiritual  frame,  and  well  developed  in  all 
 the  graces  of  the  soul.  F.  B.  Power. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— Reward  of. 
 
 Three  young  men  who  had  visited  South 
 Wales,  to  enjoy  the  scenery  of  the  place, 
 came  to  the  foot  of  the  Black  Mountains, 
 which  one  of  them  proposed  they  should 
 ascend;  to  this  the  other  two  agreed.  The 
 ascent  was  very  steep,  and  weary  work  it 
 was  to  toil  up  to  the  summit,  but  when 
 they  arrived  there,  the  view  was  so  exten- 
 sive and  beautiful  that  it  delighted  them 
 all.  "  I  tell  you  what,"  said  one  of  them, 
 "  let  us  never  again  complain  of  fatigue  in 
 such  an  enterprise  as  this.  It  has  been 
 hard  work,  sure  enough,  to  get  to  the  top 
 of  this  mountain,  but  now  we  are  here, 
 the  prospect  richly  repays  us  for  all  our 
 labour."  G.  Mogridge. 
 
 A  country  squire  having  occasion  to  sink 
 a  well  found  it  much  farther  to  the  water 
 than  he  expected.  It  was,  indeed,  a  very 
 long  and  a  very  expensive  afiair,  but  u» 
 sooner  was  the  job  completed  and  he  in 
 possession  of  excellent  spring- water,  than 
 he  gave  way  to  the  gladness  of  his  heart. 
 "  It  has  cost  me  a  pretty  penny,"  said  he, 
 •'  but  that  does  not  signify,  for  the  well 
 gives  me  more  pleasure  than  double  the 
 expense  would  give  me  pain."  Hid. 
 
 A  husbandman  who  had  a  stony  and 
 sterile  piece  of  land  went  on  lamenting, 
 day  after  day,  the  labour  it  cost  him. 
 When,  however,  he  saw  upon  it  a  capital 
 crop,  "  Fool  that  I  am,"  said  he  to  him- 
 self; "had  I  thought  more  of  the  harvest, 
 and  less  of  the  labour,  how  much  vexation 
 I  might  have  spared  myself."  Hid. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— Solved. 
 
 Some  one  said  to  Copernicus,  "  If  the 
 world  were  constituted  as  you  say,  Venus 
 would  have  phases  like  the  moon ;  she  has 
 none,  however.  What  have  you  to  say  to 
 that  ?  "  Copernicus  answered,  "  I  have  no 
 reply  to  give,  but  God  trill  be  so  good  as 
 that  an  answer  to  this  difficulty  will  be 
 found."  In  fact,  God  ivas  so  good  that 
 Galileo  invented  the  telescope  with  which 
 these  phases  of  Venus  were  discovered  j  but 
 Coiiernicus  was  dead. 
 
 God  will  be  so  good  that  we  shall  see 
 
 the  prodigies  of  His  power :  but  we  shall 
 then  be  living  an  eternal  life,  and  shall 
 only  wonder  at  one  thing — our  own  former 
 difficulties,  when  we  could  depend  upon 
 the  great  God  of  heaven  for  their  solution. 
 Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 DIFFICULTIES— Use  of. 
 
 Tlie  dove  in  the  fable,  annoyed  because 
 the  wind  had  ruffled  its  feathers,  foolishly 
 wished  for  a  firmament  free  of  air,  through 
 the  empty  space  of  which  it  vainly  dreamed 
 its  unimpeded  wing  would  dart  swift  as 
 "  the  nimble  lightning."  Silly  bird  !  with- 
 out that  air  it  could  neither  live  nor  soar. 
 Do  not  ignobly  wish  every  breath  of  oppo- 
 sition away.  Difficulties  met  and  mastered 
 upbear  us  to  the  high  reaches  of  honour. 
 By  deeds  of  daring  Havelock  won  his 
 glorious  fame  :  not  in  the  drawing-room, 
 but  amid  the  perils  and  alarms  of  war, 
 "  leal-hearted,"  honest,  brave  Lord  Clyde 
 has  earned  his  peerage,  S.  Coley. 
 
 An  acorn  is  not  an  oak  tree  when  it  is 
 sprouted.  It  must  go  through  long  sum- 
 mers and  fierce  winters ;  it  has  to  endure 
 all  that  frost,  and  snow,  and  thunder,  and 
 storm,  and  side-striking  winds  can  bring, 
 before  it  is  a  full-grown  oak.  These  are 
 rough  teachers ;  but  rugged  schoolmasters 
 make  rugged  pupils.  So  a  man  is  not  a 
 man  when  he  is  created — he  is  only  begun. 
 His  manhood  must  come  with  years.  A 
 man  who  goes  through  life  prosperous,  and 
 comes  to  his  grave  without  a  wrinkle,  is 
 not  half  a  man.  In  time  of  war,  whom 
 does  the  general  select  for  some  hazardous 
 enterprise  ?  He  looks  over  the  men,  and 
 chooses  the  soldier  whom  he  knows  will 
 not  flinch  at  danger,  but  will  go  bravely 
 through  whatever  is  allotted  to  him.  He 
 calls  him  that  he  may  receive  his  orders ; 
 the  officer,  blushing  with  pleasure  to  be 
 thus  chosen,  hastens  away  to  execute  them. 
 Difficulties  are  God's  errands ;  and  when 
 we  are  sent  upon  them  we  should  esteem 
 it  a  proof  of  God's  confidence — as  a  com- 
 pliment from  God.  The  traveller  who  goes 
 round  the  world  prepares  himself  to  pass 
 through  all  latitudes,  and  to  meet  all 
 changes.  So  a  man  must  be  prepared  to 
 take  life  as  it  comes  ;  to  mount  the  hill 
 when  the  hill  swells,  and  to  go  down  the 
 hill  when  the  hill  lowers;  to  walk  the 
 plain  when  it  stretches  before  him,  and  to 
 ford  the  river  when  it  rolls  over  the  jilain. 
 "  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which 
 strengtheneth  me."  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 DIFFICULTY— Danger  of  Avoiding. 
 
 The  other  two  (Formality  and  Hypo- 
 crisy) also  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill; 
 but  when  they  saw  that  the  hill  was  steep 
 and  high,  and  that  there  were  two  other 
 
DIFFICULTY— DILIGENCE. 
 
 261 
 
 ways  to  go — and  supposing  also  that  these 
 two  ways  might  meet  again  with  that  up 
 which  Christian  went,  on  tlie  other  side  of 
 the  hill — therefore  tliey  were  resolved  to 
 go  in  those  ways.  Now  the  name  of  one 
 of  those  ways  was  Dange: ,  and  the  name  of 
 the  other  Destruction.  So  the  one  took 
 the  way  which  is  called  Danger,  which  led 
 him  into  a  great  wood  ;  and  the  other  took 
 directly  up  the  way  to  Destruction,  which 
 led  him  into  a  wide  field  full  of  dark  moun- 
 tains, where  he  stumbled  and  fell  and  rose 
 no  more.  Bunyan. 
 
 DIFFICULTY— Meeting. 
 
 I  beheld  then  that  they  all  went  on 
 till  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 
 Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of  which  was  a 
 spring.  There  were  also  in  the  same  place 
 two  other  ways,  besides  that  which  came 
 straight  from  the  gate ;  one  turned  to  the 
 left  hand,  and  the  other  to  the  right,  at 
 the  bottom  of  the  hill  ;  but  the  narrow 
 way  lay  right  up  the  hill,  and  the  name  of 
 the  going  up  the  side  of  the  hill  is  called 
 Difficulty.  Christian  now  went  to  the 
 spring  and  drank  thereof  to  refresh  him- 
 self (Isa.  xlix,  10 — 12),  and  then  he  began 
 to  go  up  the  hill,  saying, — 
 
 The  hill,  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend ; 
 The  difficulty  will  not  me  oftend ; 
 For  I  perceive  the  way  to  life  lies  here  : 
 Come,  pluck  up  heart,  let's  neither  faint 
 
 nor  fear. 
 Better,  though  difficult,  the  right  way  to  go. 
 Than  wrong,  though  easy,  where  the  end 
 
 is  woe.  Bunyan. 
 
 DIFFICULTY— Overcoming. 
 
 Accustom  yourself  to  master  and  over- 
 come things  of  difficulty,  for,  if  you  observe, 
 the  left  hand,  for  want  of  practice,  is  in- 
 significant, and  not  adapted  to  general 
 business  ;  yet  it  holds  the  bridle  better  than 
 the  right,  from  constant  use.  Fliny. 
 
 DILIGENCE— Explained. 
 
 Diligence  comprises  both  the  impulse  of 
 the  bow-string  that  despatches  the  arrow, 
 and  the  feather  that  keeps  it  true  to  its 
 aim.  Diligio,  the  Latin  word  from  which 
 Diligence  is  derived,  means  I  choose,  select, 
 or  love.  To  be  diligent,  therefore,  is  to 
 resemble  an  eager  hunter,  who  selects  the 
 fattest  of  the  herd,  and,  leaving  the  rest, 
 pursues  and  captures  that  one.  Napoleon 
 the  First  won  his  victories  chiefly  by  rapid 
 concentration  of  his  forces  on  one  point  of 
 the  enemy's  line.  A  burning  glass  is  pow- 
 erful because  it  focalises  a  mass  of  sun- 
 beams on  one  point.  So  in  all  depart- 
 ments of  activity,  to  have  one  thing  to  do, 
 and  then  to  do  it,  is  the  secret  of  success. 
 Anon. 
 
 DILIGENCE— Fruit  of. 
 
 Long  ago  a  little  boy  was  entered  at 
 Harrow  School.  He  was  put  into  a  class 
 beyond  his  years,  and  where  all  the  scho- 
 lars had  the  advantage  of  previous  instruc- 
 tion denied  to  him.  His  master  chid  him- 
 for  his  dulness,  and  all  his  efibrts  then 
 could  not  raise  him  from  the  lowest  place 
 in  the  class.  But,  nothing  daunted,  he 
 procured  the  grammars  and  other  elemen- 
 tary books  which  his  class-fellows  had  gone 
 through  in  previous  terms.  He  devoteu 
 the  hoars  of  play,  and  not  a  few  of  the 
 hours  of  sleep,  to  the  mastering  of  these, 
 till,  in  a  few  weeks,  he  gradually  began  to 
 rise,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  shot 
 ahead  of  all  his  companions,  and  became 
 not  only  leader  of  the  division,  but  the 
 pride  of  Harrow.  You  may  see  the  statue 
 of  that  boy,  whose  career  began  with  this 
 fit  of  energetic  application,  in  St.  Paul's 
 Cathedral ;  for  he  lived  to  be  the  greatest 
 oriental  scholar  in  modern  Europe — it  was 
 Sir  William  Jones. 
 
 When  young  scholars  see  the  lofty  pin- 
 nacle of  attainment  on  which  that  name  is 
 now  reposing,  they  feel  as  if  it  had  been 
 created  there,  rather  than  have  travelled 
 thither.  No  such  thing.  The  most  illus- 
 trious in  the  annals  of  philosophy  oncc 
 knew  no  more  than  the  most  illiterate  no'v 
 do.  And  how  did  he  arrive  at  his  peerless 
 dignity  ?  By  dint  of  diligence ;  by  down- 
 right painstaking.  JJr,  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 A  gentleman,  named  Quatremer  Disjon- 
 val,  was  once  thrown  into  a  dungeon  in 
 the  city  of  Utrecht.  Without  a  companion, 
 without  books,  what  could  he  do  in  his 
 solitary  prison  ?  Apparently  nothing. 
 But  unwilling  to  he  idle  even  there,  he 
 gave  himself  to  the  careful  study  of  the 
 habits  of  a  spider,  which  had  spun  its  web 
 within  his  cell.  He  soon  found  himself  able 
 to  predict  changes  in  the  weather  from  its 
 movements — a  trifling  discovery,  but  yet 
 vastly  useful  to  him  in  the  issue ;  for  the 
 next  winter  a  French  army  invaded  Hol- 
 land, and  was  in  full  tide  of  victory,  when  a 
 sudden  thaw  stopped  its  progress,  and  led 
 its  chiefs  to  resolve  upon  a  retreat.  But 
 the  prisoner,  who  had  learned  its  move- 
 ments from  his  jailer,  and  who,  from  the 
 conduct  of  the  spider,  judged  that  severe 
 frost  would  soon  return,  contrived  to  in- 
 form the  French  of  his  opinion.  They  put 
 faith  in  his  judgment,  and  maintained  their 
 ground.  The  frost  soon  returned,  as  he 
 predicted.  The  victorious  French  com- 
 pleted their  conquests,  and  Disjonval  was 
 set  at  liberty.  Anon. 
 
 DILIGENCE— Motives  to. 
 
 Suppose    every  day  a  day  of  harvest; 
 
DILIGENCE— DISCIPLE. 
 
 suppose  it  a  marlcet-day ;  suppose  it  a  daj' 
 wherein  you  are  to  work  iu  a  golden  mine  ; 
 suppose  it  a  ring,  wliidi  you  are  to  engrave 
 and  enamel  with  your  actions,  to  be  at 
 night  presented  on  God's  altar. 
 
 If,  Caussin. 
 
 DILIGENCE— Eeward  of. 
 
 We  read  in  story  of  one  Furius  Cresinus, 
 a  Roman,  who  was  accused  of  witchcraft 
 in  drawing  away  the  fat  of  other  men's 
 land  into  his  own,  for  that  every  year  he 
 had  great  crops,  and  his  neighbours  small 
 or  none ;  this  they  thought  came  by  en- 
 chantment, and  thereof  he  was  questioned 
 in  judgment.  The  poor  man  brings  with 
 him  all  his  tools  of  husbandry,  heavy  mat- 
 tocks, weighty  ploughshares,  full-fed  oxen, 
 all  his  irons,  much  bigger  and  stronger  than 
 his  neighbours',  and  lastly,  his  daughter,  a 
 strong  and  big  maid,  who  was  his  helper  in 
 his  business,  and  setting  all  these  before 
 his  judges  and  accusers,  cried  out  in  these 
 words,  "  Hoec  sunt  quirites,  beneficia 
 mea  ! "  This  daughter,  these  oxen,  these 
 tools,  are  the  instruments  of  my  witchcraft, 
 and  besides  these  I  use  none,  and  these 
 with  diligence  I  apply.  This  is  the  way  to 
 have  great  and  good  crops  of  grain  and 
 grace,  if  thou  lay  thy  iiand  with  diligence 
 to  the  plough,  and  have  fitting  instruments. 
 But  withal,  ever  with  the  ploughman  be 
 hjoking  up  upon  the  sun  ;  and  with  the 
 pilot,  who,  as  he  holdeth  his  hand  upon 
 the  stern,  hath  his  eye  upon  the  star.  For 
 it  is  good  ground,  a  good  husbandman, 
 and  God's  blessing,  that  bring  good  crops 
 whether  for  soul  or  body.  N.  Rogers. 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT. 
 
 It  is  a  trite  saying,  that  disappointment 
 is  the  hardest  of  all  things  to  bear.  Hard- 
 est, because  it  finds  the  soul  unbraced  to 
 meet  it — relaxed,  at  ease,  and  t'aned  to  in- 
 dulgence and  joy.  A  man  can  make  up  his 
 mind  to  anything,  and  take  it  calmly.  He 
 can  live  under  the  hardest  conditions,  and 
 bear  them  cheerily.  There  is  nothing  so 
 elastic  and  self-accommodating  in  the  uni- 
 verse as  man.  The  conditions  under  which 
 human  beings  have  lived  and  floui'ished 
 are  most  startling  to  us  in  tliese  easy  days. 
 Man  delights  to  proclaim  himself  king  of  cir- 
 cumstance, and  can  maintain  his  royalty, 
 though  in  want  and  exile.  Tell  him  what 
 he  must  do  and  bear,  and  he  will  do  and 
 
 bear  it,  and  much  more  beside 
 
 But  disappointment  embitters  and  maddens. 
 It  may  be  the  smallest  fraction  of  good,  a 
 little  morsel  of  delight  which  a  wealthier 
 or  happier  would  spurn;  no  matter  if  it  be 
 but  the  killing  of  the  prisoner's  spider,  or 
 Mungo  Park's  bit  of  moss  discovered; 
 whatever  we  are  not  braced  to  meet,  sad- 
 dens or  gladdens  us  far  beyond,  vastly 
 larger,  than  more  momentous  things  which 
 
 we  have  wrought  up  into  the  average  of 
 life.  Who  has  not  muttered  "  Marah  " 
 over  some  well  in  the  desert  which  he 
 strained  himself  to  reach  and  found  to  be 
 bitterness  ?  Have  you  found  no  salt  waters 
 where  you  thought  to  find  sweetness  and 
 joy  ?  Love,  beauty,  the  world's  bright 
 throngs,  marriage,  home,  the  things  which 
 once  wooed  you  and  promised  to  slake  the 
 thirst  of  your  soul  for  happiness,  are  they 
 all  Elims,  sweet  springs  and  palms  ?  Oh, 
 what  fierce  murmurings  of  "  Mai-ah  "  have 
 I  heard  from  hearts  wrung  with  anguish, 
 from  souls  withered  and  blasted  by  a  too 
 fond  confidence  in  anything  or  any  being 
 but  God  !  Believe  it,  no  man,  with  a  man's 
 heart  in  him,  gets  far  on  his  wilderness 
 way  without  soiue  bitter  soul-searching 
 disappointment ;  happy  he  who  is  brave 
 enough  to  push  on  another  stage  of  the 
 journey,  and  rest  in  Elim,  "where  there 
 are  twelve  springs,  living  springs  of  water, 
 and  threescore  and  ten  palms." 
 
 J.  B.  Broion, 
 
 We  have  cherished  fair  hopes,  we  have 
 plotted  brave  schemes. 
 
 We  have  lived  till  we  find  them  illusive  as 
 dreams ; 
 
 Wealth  has  melted  like  snow,  that  we 
 grasp  in  our  hand. 
 
 And  the  steps  we  have  cllmb'd  have  de- 
 parted like  sand.  Ejpes  Sargent. 
 
 The  best  enjoyment  is  lialf  disappointment 
 
 To  that  we   mean,  or  would  have  in  this 
 
 world.  P.  J.  Bailey. 
 
 Not  every  flower  that  blossoms 
 
 Difluses  sweets  around ; 
 Not  every  scene  hope  gilds  with  licht 
 
 WUl  fair  be  found.      Mrs.  S.  J^Sale. 
 
 Things  sweet  to  taste  prove  in  digestion 
 sour.  Shakesi)eare. 
 
 DISBELIEF  AND  UNBELIEF. 
 
 Disbelief  properly  implies  the  heliexnng 
 that  a  thing  is  not,  or  refusing  to  believe 
 that  it  is.  Unbelief  expresses  properly  a 
 believing  the  contrary  of  what  one  has  be- 
 lieved before;  disbelief  \s  most  applicable 
 to  the  ordinary  events  of  life ;  unbelief  to 
 serious  matters  of  opinion;  our  disbelief  o( 
 the  idle  tales  which  ai-e  told  by  beggars  is 
 justified  by  the  frequent  detection  of  their 
 falsehood;  our  Saviour  had  compassion 
 on  Thomas  for  his  unbelief,  and  gave  him 
 such  evidence  of  His  identity  as  dissipated 
 every  doubt.  O.  Crabb. 
 
 DISCIPLE— Definitions  of. 
 
 The  word  disciple,  absolutely  taken,  sig- 
 nifies  in  the  New  Testament  a  believer,  a 
 
DISCIPLE  OF  CHRIST— DISCONTENT. 
 
 Chi-istian,  a  scholar,  a  follower  of  Cliris"^ 
 or  His  apostles  (Acts  vi,  1;  ix,  1). 
 
 Cruden. 
 
 A  disciple  of  Christ  is  one  who  believes 
 His  doctrines,  imbibes  His  Spirit,  and  fol- 
 lows His  example.  C.  Buck. 
 
 A  disciple  of  Christ  is  one  that  gives  up 
 himself  to  be  wholly  at  Christ's  disposing; 
 to  learn  what  He  teacheth,  to  believe  what 
 He  reveals,  to  do  what  He  commands,  to 
 avoid  what  He  forbids,  to  suffer  what  is 
 unflicted  by  or  for  Him,  in  expectation  of 
 that  reward  which  He  hath  promised. 
 Snch  a  one  is  a  discijile  of  Christ,  and  he, 
 and  none  else,  is  a  Christian. 
 
 D.  ClarJcson. 
 
 DI3CIPLESHIP— Badge  of. 
 
 To  prevent  confusion,  and  secure  a  de- 
 fined place  in  society,  each  office  and  every 
 class  has  its  peculiar  sign.  The  crown  is 
 the  sign  of  the  king,  and  the  sword  of  the 
 soldier.  While  Christ  was  speaking,  the 
 priest  was  known  by  his  vestment,  the 
 Pharisee  by  his  deep  fringe  and  broad 
 phylactery.  The  followers  of  Rabbi  Jona- 
 than, or  Rabbi  Simeon,  of  Hillel,  or  Sham- 
 iriai,  or  of  any  other  Jewish  preacher,  were 
 known  respectively  by  some  distinctive 
 tenet  or  peculiar  austerity ;  and  as  if  in 
 reference,  yet  in  contrast  to  all  these  exist- 
 ing badges  of  distinction.  He  decreed  that 
 His  disciples  should  also  have  their  proper 
 sign — a  sign  that  should  outlive  all  others, 
 and  be  understood  in  every  language : 
 "  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are 
 My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  an- 
 other." C.  Stanford. 
 
 As  every  lord  giveth  a  certain  livery  to 
 his  servants,  charity  is  the  very  livery  of 
 Christ.  Our  Saviour,  which  is  the  Lord 
 above  all  lords,  would  have  His  servants 
 known  by  their  badge,  which  is  love. 
 
 Suyh  Latimer. 
 
 The  Romans  had  a  law  that  every  one 
 should,  wherever  he  went,  wear  a  badge  of 
 iiis  trade  in  his  hat  or  outward  vestment, 
 that  he  might  be  known  ;  so  the  Christian 
 is  required  to  wear  his  badge  of  disciple- 
 ship  wherever  he  go :  "  By  this  shall  all 
 men  know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye 
 have  love  one  to  another."  Anon. 
 
 DISCIPLESHIP— Security  of. 
 
 To  follow  Jesus  is  the  antidote  of  all 
 error,  doubt,  and  despondency ;  it  ensures 
 our  soundness  in  doctrine,  our  growth  in 
 grace,  and  our  comforting,  perpetual,  and 
 life-giving  illumination.  All  this  is  in  the 
 words  of  Christ :  "  I  am  the  Light  of  the 
 world:    he  that   folio weth  Me   shall    not 
 
 walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  th&  light 
 of  life."  And  here,  too,  we  find  the  high 
 eternal  service  and  blessedness  of  the 
 saints.  It  is  the  glory  and  joy  of  the  one 
 hundred  and  forty  and  four  thousand  re- 
 deemed from  the  earth,  as  the  first  fruits 
 unto  God  and  the  Lamb,  that  they  follow 
 the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth.     Ihid. 
 
 DISCIPLESHIP— Test  of. 
 
 This  is  the  test  of  disci pleship  :  "  If  any 
 man  serve  Me,  let  him  follow  Me."  It  is 
 a  mark  found  in  all  the  saints  :  "My  sheep 
 hear  My  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they 
 follow  Me."  The  psalmist  speaks  not  for 
 himself  alone,  but  for  all  sound  believers, 
 when  he  cries,  "My  soul  foUoweth  hard 
 after  Thee."  It  was  the  salvation  of 
 Caleb  and  Joshua  in  the  day  of  wrath,  and 
 is  recorded  as  their  glory  for  ever,  that 
 they  wholly  followed  the  Lord  their  God. 
 They  found  it,  as  all  true  pilgrims  shall, 
 the  only  path  of  safety,  and  the  only  one 
 that,  coming  out  of  Egypt,  stops  not  short 
 of  Canaan.  Dr.  Hoge. 
 
 DISCONTENT. 
 
 The  lion  craved  the  fox's  art ; 
 The  fox  the  lion's  force  and  heart ; 
 The  cock  implored  the  pigeon's  flight, 
 Whose  wings  were  rapid,  strong,  and  light ; 
 The  pigeon  strength  of  wing  despised. 
 And  the  cock's  matchless  valour  prized. 
 The  fishes  wish'd  to  graze  the  plain  j 
 The  beasts  to  skim  beneath  the  main. 
 Thus,  envious  of  another's  state. 
 Each  blam'd  the  partial  hand  of  fate. 
 
 Gay. 
 
 DISCONTENT— Cured. 
 
 All  human  situations  have  their  incon- 
 veniences. We  feel  those  that  we  find  in 
 the  present ;  and  we  neither  feel  nor  see 
 those  that  exist  in  another.  Hence  we 
 often  make  troublesome  clianges  without 
 amendment,  and  frequently  for  the  worse. 
 In  my  youth  I  was  passenger  in  a  little 
 sloop  descending  the  river  Delaware.  There 
 being  no  wind,  we  were  obliged,  when  the 
 tide  was  spent,  to  cast  anchor  and  wait 
 for  the  next.  The  heat  of  the  sun  on 
 the  vessel  was  excessive  —  the  company 
 strangers  to  me,  and  not  very  agreeable. 
 Near  the  river  side  I  saw  what  I  took  to 
 be  a  pleasant  green  meadow,  in  the  middle 
 of  which  was  a  large  shady  tree,  where,  it 
 struck  my  fancy,  I  could  sit  and  read — 
 having  a  book  in  my  pocket — and  pass  the 
 time  agreeably  until  the  tide  turned.  I 
 therefore  prevailed  with  the  captain  to  put 
 me  ashore.  Being  landed  I  found  the 
 greatest  part  of  my  meadow  was  really  a 
 marsh  ;  in  crossing  which,  to  come  at  my 
 tree,  I  was  up  to  my  knees  in  mire ;  and  I 
 had  not  placed  myself  under  its  shade  five 
 minutes  before  musquitoes  in  swarms  found 
 
26  i 
 
 DISCORD  AND  STUIFE— DISCOVERY  Or  SIN. 
 
 me  out,  attacked  my  legs,  hands,  and  ftice, 
 and  made  my  reading  and  my  rest  im- 
 possible ;  so  that  I  returned  to  the  beach, 
 and  called  for  the  boat  to  come  and  take 
 me  on  board  again,  where  I  was  obliged  to 
 bear  the  heat  I  had  strove  to  quit,  and  also 
 the  laugh  of  the  company.  Similar  cases 
 in  the  affairs  of  life  have  since  frequently 
 fallen  under  my  observation.         Franklin. 
 
 DISCORD  AND  STRIFE. 
 
 Discord  evinces  itself  in  various  ways — 
 by  loolis,  words,  or  actions;  strife  displays 
 itself  in  words  or  acts  of  violence. 
 Discord  is  fatal  to  the  happiness  of 
 families ;  strife  is  the  greatest  enemy  to 
 peace  between  neighbours  :  discord  arose 
 between  the  goddesses  on  the  apple  being 
 thrown  into  the  assembly ;  Homer  com- 
 mences his  poem  with  the  str'fe  that  took 
 place  between  Agamemnon  and  Achilles. 
 
 Crabb. 
 
 DISCOVERY  OF  SIN— Examples  of  the. 
 
 Adam,  Cain,  Antidiluvians,  Babel- 
 builders,  Ham,  Sodomites,  the,  sons  of 
 Jacob,  Pharaoh,  the  Israelites,  the  Canaan- 
 ites,  Achan,  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram, 
 Jonah,  David,  Jeroboam,  Adonibezek, 
 Ahab,  Jezebel,  Samson,  Solomon,  Haman, 
 Manasseh,  Judas,  Herod,  the  Jews,  Demas, 
 Alexander,  Diotrephes.  John  Bate. 
 
 DISCOVERY  OP  SIN— Instances  of  the. 
 
 It  was  recently  stated  in  the  newspapers 
 that  a  man  had  stolen  the  contents  of  a 
 cashbox  belonging  to  a  Benefit  Society; 
 but  afterwards  getting  intoxicated  with 
 part  of  his  ill-gotten  gain,  he  revealed, 
 while  in  that  state,  the  fact  of  the  robbery 
 to  some  of  his  companions,  and  was  thus 
 brought  to  justice.  Thus  demented,  a  man 
 may  unwittingly  betray  his  own  secret, 
 and  so  his  sin  may  find  him  out. 
 
 Another  instance  occurs  in  the  case  of  a 
 murderer  in  London,  who,  being  undis- 
 covered, and  finding  that  a  reward  of 
 £300  was  offered  for  the  apprehension  of 
 the  criminal,  accused  and  attempted  to 
 convict  an  innocent  man  of  the  very  crime 
 of  which  he  himself  had  been  guilty,  and 
 thus  led  to  his  own  conviction  and  execu- 
 tion. Thus  the  love  of  money,  which,  no 
 doubt  in  this  case,  led  to  the  first  crime, 
 demented  the  man ;  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
 danger  of  attempting  further  to  enrich 
 himself  by  false  accusation  against  the 
 innocent,  and  so  secured  the  detection  of 
 his  guilt  in  both  instances.  Anon. 
 
 A  lady,  on  leaving  a  private  party  in  St. 
 Petersburgh  at  a  rather  advanced  hour  in 
 the  morning,  called  a  droshkee,  and  having 
 given  directions  to  the  driver,  the  latter 
 proceeded  towai'ds  her  home,  as  she  thought, 
 instead  of  which  he  drove  her  to  rather  a 
 
 deserted  part  of  the  city,  when  he  suddenly 
 turned  round  and  cut  her  throat,  the  sable- 
 lined  cloak  in  which  she  was  enveloped 
 having  excited  his  cupidity.  Having  di- 
 vested her  of  this,  he  dragged  the  body  to 
 the  brink  of  the  canal  and  threw  her  into 
 it.  He  then  folded  up  the  cloak  and  laid 
 it  on  the  seat.  On  his  way  back  to  his 
 stand  he  was  hailed  by  a  gentleman,  and, 
 however  reluctant,  obliged  him  to  take  him 
 as  a  fare.  The  gentleman  not  only  noticed 
 the  cloak,  but,  touching  it,  found  his 
 fingers  stained  with  blood.  He  said  nothing 
 until  he  reached  a  police-station,  where, 
 having  ordered  the  driver  to  stop,  he  gave 
 him  into  custody  on  suspicion.  The  gentle- 
 man happened  to  be  the  husband  of  the 
 lady,  and  by  the  light  recognised  the  cloak 
 as  belonsringr  to  his  wife.  Ibid 
 
 One  night,  some  years  ago,  a  person  in 
 the  city  of  Edinburgh  awoke  to  find  that 
 his  house  had  been  plundered.  The  alarm 
 was  raised  ;  nor  was  it  long  ere  the  officers 
 of  justice  found  a  clue.  The  thief,  wound- 
 ing his  hand  as  he  escaped  by  the  window, 
 had  left  a  red  witness  behind  him.  The 
 watchman  flashed  his  lantern  upon  the 
 spot.  Drop  by  drop  the  blood  stained  the 
 pavement.  They  tracked  it  on,  and  on, 
 and  ever  on,  till  their  silent  guide  con- 
 ducted them  along  an  open  passage,  and  up 
 a  flight  of  steps,  stopping  at  the  door  of  a 
 house.  They  broke  in,  and  there  they 
 found  the  bleeding  hand,  the  booty,  and 
 the  pale,  ghastly  criminal.  Now,  a  shower 
 of  rain  would  have  washed  away  the  stain; 
 a  fall  of  snow  would  have  concealed  it ;  the 
 foot  of  some  midnight  reveller  would  have 
 effaced  it ;  but  no :  the  crime  was  one  of 
 peculiar  atrocity,  and  there  God  kept  the 
 damning  spot.  And  unless  they  be  for- 
 given, washed  away  in  the  blood  of  Jesus, 
 so  shall  your  sins  find  you  out. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 The  first  Prince  Menzikoff  sold  rolls,  in 
 his  youth,  in  the  streets  of  Moscow.  One 
 day,  he  entered  by  chance  the  kitchen  of  a 
 boyard,  or  Russian  nobleman,  with  whom 
 Czar  Peter  the  Great  was  to  dine  that  day. 
 The  boyard  himself  was  present,  giving  his 
 orders,  and  spoke  to  the  cook  about  a  cer- 
 tain dish  which  was  known  to  be  the  Czar's 
 favorite  dish.  The  young  Menzikoff  saw 
 that,  when  the  cook  turned  away,  the  noble- 
 man threw  into  it  a  small  white  powder. 
 As  this  awakened  his  suspicion,  he  paid 
 particular  attention  to  the  dish,  so  that  he 
 might  recognise  it ;  and  then  he  went  out, 
 and  walked  up  and  down  before  the  house, 
 until  the  arrival  of  the  Czar. 
 
 As  soon  as  Menzikoff  saw  him,  he  cried 
 out  his  rolls  more  loudly  than  usual,  and 
 even  began  to  s-iug,  and  approached  the. 
 
BISCOVERY  OF  SIN— DISINTERESTEDNESS. 
 
 265 
 
 Czar  to  make  himself  seen.  Peter  called 
 to  hini,  and  asked  him  some  questions,  to 
 which  he  answered  so  happily,  that  the 
 Prince  said  to  him,  "I  will  keep  thee  in 
 my  service."  MenzikofF  inclined,  and  ac- 
 cepted with  joy.  At  dinner  time,  without 
 having  received  the  order,  he  entered  the 
 banquet-hall,  and  placed  himself  behind 
 the  seat  of  Peter.  When  the  certain  dish 
 appeared,  he  bent  down,  and  whispered  to 
 him  not  to  touch  of  it.  Peter  got  up,  and 
 with  a  smiling  countenance,  under  some 
 pretence,  he  took  the  young  man  into  the 
 adjiiining  apartment,  where  Menzikoff  ex- 
 plained to  him  his  suspicions. 
 
 Upon  the  Czar's  return  to  the  table,  the 
 boyard  offered  him  again  of  the  dish,  and 
 Peter  asked  him  to  sit  by  his  side,  and 
 invited  him  to  eat  with  him.  The  noble- 
 man immediately  changed  colour,  and  said 
 that  it  became  not  a  subject  to  eat  the 
 same  as  the  Emperor ;  who,  seeing  his  em- 
 barrassment, took  the  plate  and  offered  it 
 to  a  dog,  that  swallowed  all  its  contents. 
 But  a  few  moments  after,  he  began  to  run 
 and  to  howl,  then  staggered  and  fell,  and 
 soon  expired.  The  boyard  was  secured, 
 but  the  next  morning  he  was  found  dead 
 in  his  bed. 
 
 Menzikoff  did  not  have  to  sell  rolls  any 
 longer :  the  first  step  to  his  rapid  fortune 
 was  made,  and  his  descendants  are  a  much 
 esteemed  and  wealthy  family  in  Russia, 
 
 J.  Conder. 
 
 DISCOVERY  OP  SIN— "Ways  of  the. 
 
 And  thus  I  have  gone  over  several  of 
 those  ways  by  which  a  man's  sin  overtakes 
 him  and  finds  him  out  in  this  world.  As, 
 first,  the  very  confidence  itself  of  secresy 
 is  a  direct  and  natural  cause  of  the  sinner's 
 discovery.  Secondly,  there  is  sometimes  a 
 strange,  providential  concurrence  of  un- 
 visual,  unlikely  accidents,  for  the  bringing 
 to  light  great  villanies.  Thirdly,  God 
 sometimes  makes  one  great  sin  a  means  to 
 detect  and  lay  open  another.  Fourthly, 
 God  sometimes  infatuates  and  strikes  the 
 sinner  with  frenzy,  and  such  a  distraction 
 as  makes  him  reveal  all  his  hidden  guilt. 
 Fifthly,  God  sometimes  lets  loose  the 
 sinner's  conscience  upon  him,  so  that  he 
 can  find  no  rest  within  himself  till  he  has 
 confessed  and  declared  his  sin.  Sixthly, 
 and  lastly,  God  sometimes  smites  and  con- 
 founds him  by  some  notable,  immediate 
 judgment  from  heaven.  Dr.  South. 
 
 DISHONESTY— Ways  of. 
 
 It  is  a  universal  form  of  dishonesty  to 
 try  to  get  goods  below  their  value ;  and 
 whenever  you  do  that  you  undertake  to 
 cheat.  The  man  that  wants  to  get  a  thing 
 without  giving  a  fair  equivalent  wants  to 
 be  dishonest.  If  it  costs  to  make  a  hat, 
 and  give  a  good  living  to  the  uiau  that 
 
 works  upon  it,  and  a  moderate  profit  to 
 the  man  that  sells  it,  three  dollars,  and 
 you  undertake  to  buy  it  for  two  dollars 
 and  a  half,  you  undertake  to  cheat  half  a 
 dollai'.  If  you  attempt  to  beat  a  man 
 down,  and  to  get  his  goods  for  less  than  a 
 fair  price,  you  are  attempting  to  cotnmit 
 burglary,  as  much  as  though  you  broke 
 into  his  shop  to  take  the  things  without 
 paying  for  them.  There  is  cheating  on 
 both  sides  of  the  counter,  and  generally 
 less  behind  it  than  before  it.  You  want  a 
 man  to  build  you,  for  two  thousand  dollars, 
 a  house  that  shall  be  worth  five  thousand ; 
 and  what  is  the  result?  You  teach  that 
 man  to  cheat  you.  You  make  him  dis- 
 honest. You  drive  him  to  the  necessity 
 of  using  poor  material,  and  of  deceiving 
 you  by  filling  up  holes  with  putty,  and 
 covering  defects  with  paint.  You  taught 
 him  to  be  dishonest,  and  he  served  you 
 right,  though  you  did  not  serve  him  right 
 in  teaching  him  that  lesson. 
 
 S.  W.  BeecJier. 
 
 DISINTERESTEDNESS. 
 
 Mark  but  my  fall,  and  that  which  ruined 
 me. 
 
 Cromwell,  I  charge  thee  fling  away  am- 
 bition. 
 
 Love  thyself  last.  Cherish  the  hearts  that 
 hate  tliee. 
 
 Be  just,  and  fear  not ; 
 Let  all  the  ends  thou  aim'st  at   be  thy 
 
 country's, 
 Thy  God's  and  truths;  then,  if  thou  fall'st, 
 
 0  Cromwell ! 
 Thou  fall'st  a  blessed  martyr. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 DISINTERESTEDNESS— Examples  of. 
 
 Terantius,  captain  to  the  Emperor 
 Adrian,  presented  a  petition  that  the 
 Christians  might  have  a  temple  by  them- 
 selves, in  which  to  worship  God  apart 
 from  the  Arians.  The  emperor  tore  his 
 petition,  and  threw  it  away,  bidding  him 
 ask  something  for  himself,  and  it  should 
 be  granted.  Terantius  modestly  gathered 
 up  the  fragments  of  his  petition,  and  said, 
 with  true  nobility  of  mind,  "  If  I  cannot 
 be  heard  in  God's  cause,  I  will  never  ask 
 anything  for  myself."  Dr.  Cheever. 
 
 Mr.  Whitfield  has  been  charged  with 
 mercenary  motives ;  his  whole  life  showed 
 the  fallacy  and  weakness  of  such  a  charge. 
 During  his  stay  in  Scotland,  in  1759,  a 
 young  lady.  Miss  Hunter,  who  possessed  a 
 considerable  fortune,  made  a  full  ofi'er  to 
 him  of  her  estate,  both  money  and  lands, 
 amounting  to  several  thousand  pounds, 
 which  he  generously  refused;  and,  upon 
 his  declining  it  for  himself,  she  oflered  it 
 to  him  for  the  benefit  of  his  orphan-house. 
 
2f)6 
 
 DISINTERESTED  LOVE  TO  GOD— DISPATCH. 
 
 This  also  he  absolutely  refused.     This  in- 
 cideut    is   given    on  the  authority   of  his 
 original  biographer,  Dr.  Gillies,  who  re- 
 ceived it  from  unquestionable  testimony. 
 Dr.  Cheever. 
 
 In  our  day  it  is  hard  to  believe  that 
 such  men  ever  lived  as  are  spoken  of 
 below.  In  the  reign  of  Charles  I,  Sir 
 Harry  Vane  had  the  good  fortune  to  ob- 
 tain from  that  monarch  the  appointment 
 of  treasurer  to  the  navy.  The  fees  at- 
 tached to  the  office  were  an  allowance  of 
 fourpence  in  tlie  pound  on  the  money  ex- 
 pended for  the  purposes  of  the  navy.  In 
 consequence  of  the  war  with  Holland,  the 
 income  of  the  treasurer  amounted  to 
 £30,000  a  year.  Of  this  enormous  re- 
 venue— which  was  equal  to  five  times  that 
 sum  in  the  present  clay — Sir  Harry  was 
 not  willing  to  avail  himself,  but  with 
 great  disinterestedness  brought  the  matter 
 before  the  House  of  Commons,  and  volun- 
 tarily offered  to  relinquish  the  fees  during 
 his  life  upon  the  simple  stipulation  that 
 the  government  should  allow  the  sum  of 
 £200  a  year  to  a  person  whom  he  had 
 cpialified  for  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of 
 the  office.  The  House  of  Connnons  ac- 
 cepted the  proposal,  and  in  addition  to  the 
 grant  of  £200  a  year  for  the  services  that 
 were  required,  the  members  of  the  House 
 insisted  upon  conferring  an  annuity  upon 
 Sir  Harry  of  £1,200  a  year  during  his  life. 
 Thus,  by  his  generous  conduct,  an  enor- 
 mous sum  was  saved  to  the  nation. 
 
 A  similar  instance  may  be  found  in  more 
 recent  times.  The  Marquis  of  Camden, 
 John  Jeflreys  Pratt,  in  the  year  1780, 
 when  a  commander,  obtained  the  appoint- 
 ment of  teller  of  the  Exchequer;  the 
 emoluments  of  this  appointment  were  very 
 large,  and  this  office  he  held  for  sixty  years. 
 During  the  latter  half  of  that  long  period, 
 this  nobleman  every  year  paid  back  the 
 income  arising  from  the  office  for  the 
 benefit  of  the  state.  The  entire  ^um  thus 
 voluntarily  relinquished,  exceeded  the 
 fourth  part  of  a  million  of  money. 
 
 Dr.  Jeffers. 
 
 DISINTERESTED  LOVE  TO  GOD. 
 
 Much  has  been  said  about  the  doctrine 
 of  disinterested  love  to  God.  It  nnist  be 
 confessed  that  we  ought  to  love  Him  for 
 His  own  excellencies;  yet  it  is  difficult  to 
 form  an  idea  how  we  can  love  God  uncon- 
 nected with  any  interest  to  ourselves. 
 What,  indeed,  we  ought  to  do,  and  what 
 we  really  do,  or  can  do,  is  very  different. 
 There  is  an  everlasting  obligation  on  men 
 to  love  God  for  what  He  is,  however  in- 
 capable of  doing  it ;  but  at  the  same  time, 
 our  love  to  Him  is  our  interest;  nor  can 
 we,  in  the  present  state,  I  think,  while 
 possessed  of  such  minds,  love  God  without 
 
 including  a  sense  of  His  relative  goodness. 
 "  We  love  Him,"  says  St.  John,  "  because 
 He  first  loved  us."  C.  Buck. 
 
 DISOBEDIENCE— Effects  of. 
 
 "Let  the  sickles  alone,"  said  a  farmer 
 to  his  son,  who  was  left  in  the  field  while 
 the  reapers  went  to  dinner.  James  obeyed 
 his  father  for  a  time;  but  at  length  he 
 grew  lonesome,  and  took  up  a  sickle  "just 
 to  look  at  it."  He  then  felt  its  edge,  and 
 then  thought  he  would  cut  "  one  handful." 
 In  so  doing,  he  cut  his  little  finger,  inflict- 
 ing a  wound  which  rendered  the  middle 
 joint  useless  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  When 
 it  was  healed,  an  ugly  scar,  and  a  stiff 
 finger,  were  lasting  mementos  of  his  dis- 
 obedience. 
 
 Disobedience  to  his  heavenly  Father 
 leaves  a  scar  on  the  sinner's  soul,  and 
 lessens  his  capacity  for  virtue.  What  a 
 frightful  appearance  would  many  a  soul 
 present  could  its  scarred  and  maimed  con- 
 dition be  made  visible!  Unseen  fects  are 
 as  real  as  those  which  are  seen  by  the  eye. 
 Every  sin  leaves  its  mark  on  the  soul. 
 Every  sin  increases  the  soul's  tendency  to 
 sin,  and  lessens  its  power  for  virtue. 
 Every  sin  thus  effects  a  change  for  the 
 worse  in  the  condition  of  the  soul.  It  is 
 not  merely  registered  in  the  book  of  God's 
 remembrance  ;  it  is  registered  in  the  very 
 condition  of  the  soul.  Anon. 
 
 DISOBEDIENCE— fruit  of  Enmity. 
 
 That  men  do  so  universally  disobey  God 
 bespeaks  alienation  and  enmity  of  mind. 
 As  obedience  proceeds  from  love,  so  dis- 
 obedience proceeds  from  enmity.  And  for 
 this  I  shall  only  instance  in  two  great  pre- 
 cepts, wherein  the  mind  and  will  of  God 
 is  expressed,  which  I  mention  and  insist 
 upon  as  things  that  concern  the  constant 
 and  daily  pi-actice  of  the  Christian — a 
 course  of  prayer  to  God  in  secret;  and 
 having  our  conversation  in  heaven.  How 
 express  are  both  these  precepts  in  the 
 same  chapter,  the  former,  Matt,  vi,  6,  the 
 latter,  verses  19 — 21.  Now  consider, 
 whether  our  disobedience  to  these  two 
 precepts  do  not  discover  great  enmity  in 
 our  hearts  against  God.  W^hat !  to  rufuse 
 to  pray,  and  pour  out  our  souls  to  Him  in 
 secret!  To  refuse  placing  our  treasure 
 and  our  hearts  in  heaven !  What  doth 
 this  signify,  but  aversion  and  a  disaflected 
 heart  ?  John  Howe. 
 
 DISPATCH— Affected. 
 
 Aftected  dispatch  is  one  of  the  most 
 dangerous  things  to  business  that  can  be. 
 It  is  like  that  which  physicians  call  pre- 
 digestion,  or  hasty  digestion,  which  is  soon 
 to  fill  the  body  full  of  crudities  and  secret 
 seeds  of  diseases.     Therefore  measure  not 
 
DISPATCH— DISPOSITION. 
 
 267 
 
 dispatch  by  the  times  of  sitting,  but  by  the 
 advancement  of  the  business. 
 
 Lord  Bacon, 
 
 DISPATCH — Hindrances  to. 
 
 Long  and  curious  speeclies  are  as  fit  for 
 dispatcli  as  a  robe  or  mantle  with  a  long 
 train  is  for  a  race.  Prefaces,  and  passages, 
 and  excusations,  and  other  speeclies  of  re- 
 ference to  the  pei'son,  are  great  wastes  of 
 time  ;  and  though  they  seem  to  proceed  of 
 modesty,  they  are  bravery.  Hid. 
 
 DISPATCH— Small. 
 
 The  Spartans  and  Spaniards  have  been 
 noted  to  be  of  small  dispatch  :  Mi  venga 
 la  muerte  de  iSpagna ;  let  my  death  come 
 from  Spain  :  for  then  it  will  be  sure  to  be 
 long  in  coming.  Ibid. 
 
 DISPATCH— Value  of. 
 
 True  dispatch  is  a  rich  thing.  For  time 
 is  the  measure  of  business,  as  money  is  of 
 wares,  and  business  is  bought  at  a  dear 
 hand  where  there  is  small  dispatch. 
 
 Ihid. 
 
 DISPENSATIONS— The  Two. 
 
 If  the  glorious  things  of  God  are  seen 
 by  us,  as  St.  Paul  saith,  but  darkly  in  the 
 glass  of  fiiith,  yet  hath  this  glass  a  con- 
 centrating power  wliich  makes  tlieir  rays 
 converge  into  one  point,  and  play  upon 
 our  innermost  soul,  with  a  warning,  as 
 well  as  a  brightening,  influence ;  and  the 
 difference  between  us  and  those  of  the 
 older  dispensation  is  briefly  this,  that  the 
 revelation  of  a  final  state,  wherein  God 
 should  be  the  soul's  full  possession,  shone 
 to  them  as  a  distant  light  in  a  dark  place, 
 towards  which  indeed  they  might  dii-ect 
 their  course,  but  b_t/  which  they  could 
 hardly  guide  their  steps ;  whereas  to  us  it 
 is  a  lamp,  as  well  as  a  beacon,  the  cheerer, 
 as  well  as  the  aim,  of  our  toilsome  pil- 
 grimage. 
 
 And  then  at  last  will  come  that  final 
 state  of  blessedness,  when  faith  and  hope 
 will  be  entirely  swallowed  up  in  boundless 
 and  endless  charity ;  wlien  the  "  light  in- 
 tellectual full  of  love "  shall  reabsorb  and 
 quench,  in  its  peerless  brightness,  the 
 scattered  beams  it  had  before  suff'ered  to 
 wander  upon  earth ;  when  every  other 
 good  and  holy  thing  shall  melt  and  be 
 transmuted  in  that  one  assimilating,  uni- 
 fying essence  ;  and,  like  dewdrops  which 
 have  refreshed  us  in  the  morning,  and  then 
 have  been  caught  up  by  some  heaving 
 swell  of  the  ocean-tide,  though  small  and 
 imperfect,  shall  become  the  elements  of  the 
 unlimited  and  eternal. 
 
 We,  thus,  are  placed  in  a  middle  state 
 between  one  past  and  one  that  is  yet  to 
 come,  a  state  necessarily  intended  as  the 
 completion  of  the  former,  and  as  a  pre- 
 
 paration for  the  latter,  whereof  the  type 
 is  shadowed  forth  in  that  whicii  hath  pre- 
 ceded, w^ile  itself  is  the  emblem  and  fair 
 image  of  that  which  shall  follow.  Now, 
 this  position  must  give  rise  to  many  in- 
 teresting analogies  ;  forasmuch  as  all 
 things,  being  thus  in  unbroken  progress 
 from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  God's 
 dispensations,  without  violent  shocks  or 
 sudden  changes,  we  must  expect  to  find  in 
 the  present  order  or  state  such  qualities 
 and  dispositions  as  may  suit  this  its  two- 
 fold character,  that  is  to  say,  perfective  of 
 a  former,  and  initiatory  of  a  future  state. 
 And  even  as  a  skilful  geometer  shall,  by 
 the  accurate  measurement  of  a  shadow, 
 under  certain  conditions,  tell  you  exactly 
 the  height  and  proportions  of  the  object 
 which  projects  it,  and,  again,  from  the 
 survey  of  this,  shall  define  what  the  other 
 should  at  any  time  be,  so  may  we  by  a  dili- 
 gent study  of  those  two  other  dispensations 
 as  well  as  of  our  own,  the  one  whereof  we 
 are  the  fulfilment,  the  other  whereof  we 
 are  the  figure,  arrive  at  much  important 
 knowledge  regarding  the  condition  of  our 
 present  state.  Cardinal  Wiseman. 
 
 DISPENSATIONS— Change  of  the  Two. 
 
 The  former  constitution  was  not  abo- 
 lished but  exchanged,  and  by  that  change 
 perfected;  and  in  this  manner  did  Jesus 
 say  that  He  came  not  to  abolish,  but  to 
 complete  or  accomplish  :  secondly,  that  the 
 former  was  a  type  and  merged  into  its 
 reality,  not  so  much  dying  as  passing  into 
 a  second  existence,  where  a  true  sacrifice' 
 covered  a  typical  oblation,  where  redemp- 
 tion given  passed  before  redemption  ex- 
 pected, where  uncertainty  had  ripened 
 into  knowledge,  and  hope  yielded  its 
 kingdom  to  faith.  To  illustrate  the  noble 
 by  the  base,  the  former  state  was,  as  that 
 living  but  creeping  sheath  wherein  lie  in- 
 folded for  a  time  the  corresponding  parts 
 of  a  more  splendid  and  gorgeous  insect, 
 which  in  due  time  takes  upon  itself  the 
 vital  functions,  till  then  by  the  other  ex- 
 ercised— and  rises  towards  heaven,  the  same 
 yet  difterent — a  transmigration  rather  than 
 an  offspring.  Ibid. 
 
 DISPOSITION— Definition  of. 
 
 Disposition  is  that  temper  of  mind  which 
 any  person  possesses.  C.  Buck. 
 
 DISPOSITION— A  Good. 
 
 A  good  disposition  I  far  prefer 
 
 To  gold;    for  gold's  the  gift  of  fortune; 
 
 goodness 
 Of  disposition  is  the  gift  of  natui-e. 
 Rather  than  wealth  may  1  be  bless'd  with 
 
 virtue.  Plautus. 
 
 DISPOSITION— Moral  Mixture  of. 
 
 As  all  natui-al  bodies  are  mixed ;  so  must 
 
268 
 
 DISPOSITIOlf  AND  INCLINATION— DISSATISPACTION. 
 
 all  our  moral  disposition;  no  simple  pas- 
 sion doth  well.  If  our  joy  be  not  allayed 
 with  sorrow,  it  is  madness;  and  if  our 
 sorrow  be  not  tempered  with  some  mixture 
 of  joy,  it  is  hellish  and  desperate;  if  in 
 these  earthly  thin;is  we  hope  without  all 
 doubt,  or  fear  without  all  hope,  we  oft'end 
 on  both  sides;  if  we  labour  without  all 
 recreation,  we  grow  dull  and  heartless  ;  if 
 we  sport  ourselves  without  all  labour,  we 
 grow  wild  and  unprofitable  ;  these  com- 
 positions are  wholesome,  as  for  the  body, 
 so  for  the  mind;  w-hich,  though  it  be  not 
 of  a  compounded  substance,  as  the  body, 
 yet  hath  much  variety  of  qualities  and  aflec- 
 tions,  and  those  contrary  to  each  other. 
 
 Bp.  Hall. 
 
 DISPOSITION  AND  INCLINATION, 
 
 The  disposition  is  more  positive  than  the 
 inclination.  We  may  always  expect  a 
 man  to  do  that  which  he  is  disposed  to  do ; 
 but  we  cannot  always  calculate  upon  his 
 executing  that  to  which  he  is  merely  in- 
 clined. We  indulge  a  disposition;  we 
 yield  to  an  inclination.  The  disposition 
 comprehends  the  whole  state  of  the  mind 
 at  the  time  ;  the  inclination  is  particular, 
 referring  always  to  a  particular  object. 
 After  the  performance  of  a  serious  duty,  no 
 one  is  expected  to  be  in  a  disposition  for 
 laughter  or  merriment ;  it  is  becoming  to 
 suppress  our  inclination  to  laughter  in 
 the  presence  of  those  who  wish  to  be 
 serious.  We  should  be  careful  not  to  enter 
 into  a  controversy  with  one  who  shows  a 
 disposition  to  be  unfriendly.  When  a 
 young  person  discovers  any  inclination  to 
 study,  there  are  hopes  of  his  improvement. 
 G.  Crahh. 
 
 DISPOSITION  AND  TEMPER. 
 
 The  disposition  is  permanent  and  settled ; 
 the  temper  is  transitory  and  fluctuating. 
 The  disposition  comprehends  the  springs 
 and  motives  of  actions ;  the  temper  in- 
 fluences the  actions  for  the  time  being; 
 it  is  possible  and  not  unfrequent  to  have  a 
 good  disposition  witli  a  bad  temper,  and 
 vice  versa.  A  good  disposition  makes  a 
 man  a  useful  member  of  society,  but  not 
 always  a  good  companion ;  a  good  temper 
 renders  him  acceptable  to  all  and  peaceable 
 with  all,  but  essentially  useful  to  none  :  a 
 good  disposition  will  go  far  towards  cor- 
 recting the  errors  of  temper ;  hut  where 
 there  is  a  bad  disposition  there  are  no  hopes 
 of  amendment.  Ibid. 
 
 DISSATISFACTION— Christian. 
 
 In  the  caseoftheChristian,  dissatisfaction 
 as  to  present  attainments  arises,  not  from 
 the  circumstance  that  the  very  objects  of 
 his  pursuit,  like  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
 are  in  themselves  unsatisfactory  (so  tliat 
 when  they  are  reaJJsied  they  iU'  repay  the 
 
 strife  and  toil  by  which  they  were  obtained), 
 but  that  the  greater  his  happiness,  the 
 greater  becomes  his  capacity  for  bliss.  He 
 lives  above  the  world,  and  breathes  the  at- 
 mosphere of  heaven;  but  the  higher  he 
 ascends,  tlie  more  he  regrets  that  he  dwells 
 so  far  below.  He  has  left  beneath  his 
 feet  the  mists  of  the  valley,  and  tlie  clouds 
 in  their  courses ;  peradventure,  he  has  even 
 gained  a  region  where  those  mists  and 
 clouds  seldom  shut  out  the  sunshine;  but 
 he  beholds,  beyond  him  and  above  him, 
 heights  over  heights,  and  these  he  longs  and 
 intends  to  scale.  And  while  he  regards  his 
 present  footing  but  as  the  table-laud  where 
 he  may  retTuit  himself  a  little  for  nobler  en- 
 terprise, he  knows  that,  should  he  reach 
 the  highest  point  of  all,  he  will  but  stand 
 on  the  utmost  boundary  of  an  earthly 
 planet,  while  worlds  upon  worlds  will  re- 
 volve beyond  him,  in  the  boundlessness  of 
 space  and  the  plenitude  of  celestial  glory. 
 D.  E.  Ford. 
 
 The  true  Christian  never  can  rest  in  any 
 habits  of  virtue  already  attained ;  his  pre» 
 sent  proficiency  he  values  only  as  a  capacity 
 of  better  attainments ;  and,  like  the  great 
 lioman  whose  appetite  of  conquest  was  in- 
 flamed by  every  new  advantage  gained,  he 
 thinks  nothing  done  while  aught  remains 
 which  prowess  may  achieve. 
 
 Bp.  Horsley. 
 
 If  the  sinner  is  never  satisfied  in  his 
 growth,  development,  and  advance  in  the 
 sins  which  will  ultimately  damn  him  for 
 ever,  should  the  Christian  be  satisfied  in 
 his  present  attainments  of  grace  ?  Let 
 him  bear  in  mind  that  the  higher  he  as- 
 cends in  grace  on  earth,  the  higher  he  will 
 ascend  in  the  glory  of  heaven. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 DISSATISFACTION— Human. 
 
 Give  a  man  the  necessaries  of  life,  and 
 he  wants  the  conveniences.  Give  him  the 
 conveniences,  and  he  craves  for  the  luxuries. 
 Grant  him  the  luxuries,  and  he  sighs  for 
 the  elegances.  Let  him  have  the  ele- 
 gances and  he  yearns  for  the  follies.  Give 
 him  all  together,  and  he  complains  that  he 
 has  been  cheated  both  in  the  price  and 
 quantity  of  the  articles.  Anon. 
 
 DISSATISFACTION— of  Kich  and  Poor. 
 A  man  in  his  carriage  was  riding  along, 
 
 A  gaily  dressed  wife  by  his  side. 
 In  satin  and  laces ;  she  looked  like  a  queen, 
 
 And  he  like  a  king  in  his  pride. 
 
 A  wood  sawyer  stood  in  the  street  as  they 
 passed, 
 
 The  carriage  and  couple  he  eyed ; 
 And  said  as  he  worked  with  a  saw  on  a  log, 
 
 "  I  wish  I  was  rich  and  could  ride." 
 
DISSEMBLER— DOCTRINE. 
 
 269 
 
 The  mnn   in  the  carriage  remarked  to  his 
 wife : 
 "  One  thing  I  would  give  if  I  could — 
 I'd  give  all  my  wealth  for  the  strength  and 
 the  health. 
 Of  the  man  that  saweth  the  wood." 
 
 A  pretty  young  maid,  with  a   bundle  of 
 work, 
 Whose  face  as  the  morning  was  ftiir. 
 Went  tripping  along,  with  a  smile  of  de- 
 light. 
 While  humming  a  love-breathing  air. 
 
 She  looked  on  the  carriage — the  lady  she 
 saw. 
 Arrayed  iu  apparel  so  fine. 
 And  said  in  a  whisper,  "  I  wish  from  my 
 heart 
 Those  satins  and  laces  were  mine." 
 
 The  lady  looked  out  on  the  maid  with  her 
 work. 
 So  fair  in  her  calico  dress, 
 And  said,  '•  I'd  relinquish  possession  and 
 wealth, 
 Her  beauty  and  youth  to  possess." 
 
 Thus,  in  this  world,  whatever  our  lot, 
 Our  minds  and  our  time  we  employ 
 
 In  longing  and  sighing  for  what  we  have 
 not. 
 Ungrateful  for  what  we  enjoy. 
 
 We  welcome  the   pleasure  for  which  we 
 have  sighed. 
 The  heart  has  a  void  in  it  still. 
 Growing  deeper  and  wider  the  longer  we 
 live. 
 That  nothing  but  heaven  can  fill. 
 
 Anon. 
 DISSEMBLER— The. 
 
 O  serpent  heart,  hid  with  a  flowering  face  ! 
 Did  ever  dragon  keep  so  fair  a  cave  ? 
 Beautiful  tyrant,  fiend  angelical ! 
 Dove  -  feather'd    raven  1     wolfish -ravening 
 
 lamb ! 
 Despised  substance  of  divinest  show ! 
 Just  opposite  to  what  thou  justly  seem'st, 
 A  damned  saint,  an  honorable  villain. 
 
 Anon. 
 DISSONANCE. 
 
 The  earth  is  full  of  discords,  for  men  deem 
 Each  his  own  symbol  sweetest.     Selfish 
 
 clang 
 Whelms    holy   sounds   that    first    from 
 Bethlehem  rang. 
 Fireballs  break  harshly  on  melodious  dream, 
 To  sufferer's  pillow  brought  by  Christmas 
 theme, 
 Carolled  in  depth  of  midnight.     Deaf- 
 ening bang 
 Of  idol-service  drowns  the  fakeer's  pang, 
 Crushed   beneath   car-wheels,  while   none 
 heed  his  scream. 
 Ah  doleful  tuning-time!    our  ears  are 
 stunned 
 
 With  crossing  clamours.     Would  our  eyes 
 might  see 
 The    Leader's,   rod    uplifted,    and    His 
 
 fund 
 Of  deep  soul-music  rise  like  snow-rills 
 sunned 
 'Neath  Polar  summer.     So  should  discord 
 
 be 
 Flooded  in  harpings  from  the  crystal  sea  ! 
 JI.  N. 
 
 DISTRACTION  IN  RELIGION. 
 
 The  cares  of  this  world ;  its  petty  tri- 
 fling— not  wrong  in  themselves — simply 
 dissipating;  filling  the  heart  with  paltry 
 solicitudes  and  mean  anxieties ;  wearincf. 
 "  Mitrtha  was  cumbered  with  much  serv- 
 ing." Her  household  and  her  domestic 
 duties,  real  duties,  divided  her  heart  with 
 Christ.  The  time  of  danger,  therefore,  is 
 when  life  expands  into  new  situations  and 
 larger  spheres,  bringing  them  new  cares. 
 It  is  not  in  the  earlier  stages  of  existence 
 that  these  distractions  are  felt.  Thorns 
 sprang  up  and  choked  the  wheat  as  they 
 grew  together.  You  see  a  religious  man 
 taking  up  a  new  pursuit  with  eagerness. 
 At  first  no  danger  is  suspected.  But  it  is 
 a  distraction — something  that  distracts  or 
 divides — he  has  became  dissipated,  and  by 
 and  by  you  remark  that  his  rest  is  gone — 
 he  is  no  longer  the  man  he  was.  He  talks 
 as  before,  but  the  life  is  gone  from  what  he 
 says ;  his  energies  are  frittered. 
 
 F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 
 DOCTRINE— False. 
 
 As  he  is  a  traitor  to  his  prince  who 
 taketh  upon  him  to  coin  moneys  out  of  a 
 base  metal,  yea,  although  in  the  stamp  he 
 putteth  for  a  show  the  image  of  the  prince ; 
 so  he  that  shall  broach  any  doctrine  that 
 Cometh  not  from  God,  whatsoever  he  say 
 for  it,  or  what  gloss  soever  he  set  on  it,  he 
 is  a  traitor  unto  God,  yea,  in  truth,  a 
 cursed  traitor,  though  he  were  an  angel 
 from  heaven  (Gal.  i,  8).  T.  Boston. 
 
 DOCTRINE— Minds  affected  by. 
 
 The  same  doctrine  represented  to  two 
 diflerent  minds  will  appear  ditt'ercnt  to 
 those  two  minds,  and  must  appear  ditterent 
 because  the  minds  are  diflerent.  Let  me 
 give  you  an  illustration  of  this.  Originally 
 the  beautiful,  white,  transparent  light 
 coming  down  from  its  world  above  was 
 transparent  like  the  sun,  but  down  here  in 
 the  neighbourhood  of  the  earth  it  enters 
 the  medium  of  a  flower.  And  as  soon  as 
 that  is  done  it  is  immediately  decomposed 
 into  a  great  variety  of  tints  and  forms  of 
 life.  Originally  white,  it  now  becomes 
 green,  or  blue,  or  red,  or  yellow,  or  violet. 
 But  mark,  it  is  light  under  every  one  of 
 those  forms,  and  the  same  light  that  came 
 from  the  sun.     In  the  one  case  it  is  violet 
 
270 
 
 DOCTRINE— DOliTG  GOOD. 
 
 light,  in  the  other  yellow  light,  in  the 
 other  red  light,  in  the  other  blue  light, 
 and  in  the  other  grceu  light;  but  it  is  all 
 the  same  liglit  modified,  that  is  all.  So 
 truth  in  the  mind  of  God  is  transparent 
 and  clear,  as  it  is  in  its  essence,  but  v.'hen 
 it  comes  down  to  us  in  revelation  it  be- 
 comes decomposed  and  refracted.  It  be- 
 comes blue,  or  yellow,  or  red,  or  green,  or 
 violet,  according  to  education,  or  prejudice, 
 or  the  strength  or  weakness  of  the  mind, 
 and  tlius  it  is  transformed  into  many  shapes, 
 but  it  is  the  truth  still,  only  it  is  coloured 
 a  little  according  to  the  constitution  of  the 
 mind  to  which  it  comes.  T.  Jones. 
 
 DOCTRINE— True. 
 
 The  question  is  not  whether  a  doctrine 
 is  beautiful,  but  whether  it  is  true.  When 
 ■we  want  to  go  to  a  place,  we  don't  ask 
 whether  the  road  leads  through  a  pretty 
 country,  but  whether  it  is  the  right  road, 
 the  road  pointed  out  by  authority,  the 
 turnpike-road.  Hare. 
 
 That  doctrine  which  rectifies  the  con- 
 science, purifies  the  heart,  and  produces 
 love  to  God  and  men,  is  necessarily  true, 
 because,  as  it  has  been  demonstrated  that 
 righteousness  and  benevolence  are  the 
 greatest  good  of  the  soul ;  and  likewise 
 that  the  greatest  good  must  depend  on  the 
 belief  of  truth  ;  therefore  the  conclusion 
 is  inevitable,  that  that  doctrine  which, 
 being  believed,  destroys  sin  in  the  heart 
 and  life  of  man,  and  produces  righteous- 
 ness and  benevolence,  is  the  truth  of  God. 
 No  matter  whether  men  can  comprehend 
 all  its  depths  and  relations  or  not,  if  it 
 destroys  sin  wherever  it  takes  effect  by 
 f:nth,  and  makes  happiness  grow  out  of 
 right  living  and  right  loving,  from  the 
 constitution  of  things— from  the  character 
 of  God — from  the  nature  of  man — that 
 doctrine  is  the  truth  of  God.  And  that 
 doctrine  which  hinders  this  result,  or  pro- 
 duces a  contrary  result,  is  the  falsehood  of 
 the  devil.  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 DOCTRINES— in  the  Right  Place. 
 
 It  is  not  enough  that  you  hold  right 
 doctrines — nay,  in  a  sense  hold  all  the  doc- 
 trines. Each  right  doctrine  must  be  in  its 
 own  right  place.  Your  astronomy  may 
 include  all  the  bodies  that  enter  into  our 
 solar  system,  but  if  it  assign  to  a  planet  the- 
 imperial  position  of  the  sun,  your  system 
 passes  into  inextricable  confusion.  Tlie 
 machine  may  have  all  its  parts,  but  if  the 
 great  wheel  that  moves,  them,  or  the 
 balance  wheel  that  regulates  them,  revolve 
 on  any  sliaft  but  its  own,  the  entire  me- 
 chanism either  stops  or  flies  round  in  a- 
 furious  and  destructive  disorder.  Even  so, 
 although  all  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  be 
 in  our  creed,  we  may  commit  a  great,  a 
 
 dangerous — possibly  a  fatal  mistake — by 
 any  mal-arrangement  that  would  put  these 
 out  of  their  proper  place.  Now,  such  is 
 their  mistake  who  build  election  upon 
 holiness,  not  holiness  upon  election  ;  who 
 regard  good  works,  not  as  the  result,  but 
 the  cause  of  saving  mercy,  and  who,  mis- 
 taking the  root  for  the  fruit,  fancy  that 
 God  adopts  men  because  they  are  holy ; 
 when,  in  point  of  fact,  He  makes  them 
 holy,  just  because  He  has  adopted  them. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 DOING  GOOD— by  a  ChUd. 
 
 "  Children,  I  want  each  of  you  to 
 bring  a  new  scholar  to  the  schoqj  with 
 you  next  Sunday,"  said  the  superintendent 
 of  a  Sunday-school  to  his  scholars  one  day. 
 
 "  I  can't  get  any  new  scholars,"  said 
 several  of  the  children  to  themselves. 
 
 "  I'll  try  what  I  can  do,"  was  the  whis- 
 pered response  of  a  few  others. 
 
 One  of  the  latter  class  went  home  to  his 
 father,  and  said,  "  Father,  will  you  go  to 
 the  Sunday-school  with  me  ?" 
 
 "  I  can't  read,  my  son,"  replied  the 
 father,  with  a  look  of  shame. 
 
 "Our  teachers  will  teach  you,  dear 
 father,"  answered  the  boy,  with  respect 
 and  feeling  in  his  tones. 
 
 "  Well,  I'll  go,"  said  the  father. 
 
 He  went,  learned  to  read,  sought  and 
 found  the  Saviour,  and  at  length  became  a 
 colporteur.  Years  passed  on,  and  that 
 man  had  established/o!<r  hundred  Sunday- 
 schools,  into  which  thirty-five  thousand 
 children  were  gathered ! 
 
 Thus  you  see  what  trying  did.  That 
 boy's  efforts  was  like  a  tiny  rill,  which 
 soon  swells  into  a  brook,  and  at  length  be- 
 comes a  river.  His  efforts  by  God's  grace 
 saved  his  father  ;  and  his  father,  being 
 saved,  led  thirty-Jive  thousand  children  to 
 the  Sunday-school !  P.  B.  Power. 
 
 DOING  GOOD— by  Uttle  Means. 
 
 See  that  well  on  the  mountain  side — a 
 small,  rude,  rocky  cup  full  of  crystal  water, 
 and  that  tiny  rill  flowing  through  a  breach 
 in  its  brim.  The  vessel  is  so  diminutive 
 that  it  could  not  contain  a  supply  of  water 
 for  a  single  family  a  single  day.  But,  ever 
 getting  through  secret  channels,  and  ever 
 giving  by  an  open  overflow,  day  and  night, 
 summer  and  winter,  from  year  to  year,  it 
 discharges  in  the  aggregate  a  volume  to 
 which  its  own  capacity  bears  no  appreciable 
 proportion.  The  flow  from  that  diminutive 
 cup  might,  in  a  drought  or  war,  become 
 Hfe  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  a  city.  It  is 
 thus  that  a  Christian,  if  he  is  full  of  mercy 
 and  good  fruits,  is  a  greater  blessing  to  the 
 world  than  either  himself  or  his  neighbours 
 deem.  Let  no  disciple  of  Christ  either 
 tliin!:  himself  excused,  or  permit  himself 
 to  be  discouraged  from  doing  good,  because 
 
DOING  GOOD. 
 
 271 
 
 his  talents  and  opportunities  are  few.  Your 
 capacity  is  small,  it  is  true,  but  if  you  "re 
 in  Christ  it  is  the  capacity  of  a  w  ell.  Al- 
 though it  does  not  contain  much  at  any 
 moment,  so  as  to  attract  attention  to  you 
 for  your  gifts,  it  will  give  forth  a  great 
 deal  in  a  lifetime,  and  many  will  be  re- 
 freshed. Arnot. 
 
 DOING  GOOD— Qualification  for. 
 
 If  mountains  are  to  be  moved,  if  whole 
 nations  are  to  be  lifted  from  paganism  and 
 its  miry  pit,  the  Xavier  or  Zinzendorf,  the 
 Brainerd  or  Judson,  who  seeks  to  raise 
 them  up,  would  need  himself  to  dwell  on 
 high  ;  he  would  need  a  strong  arm  and  a 
 firm  hold  on  heaven.         Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 DOING  GOOD— Seward  in. 
 
 The  Shepherds  led  the  Pilgrims  to  Mount 
 Charity,  where  they  showed  them  a  man 
 that  had  a  bundle  of  cloth  lying  before 
 him.  out  of  which  he  cut  coats  and  gar- 
 ments for  the  poor  that  stood  about  him  ; 
 yet  his  bundle  or  roll  of  cloth  was  never 
 the  less.  Then  said  they.  What  should 
 this  be  ?  This  is,  said  the  Shepherds,  to 
 show  you,  that  he  who  has  a  heart  to  give 
 of  his  labour  to  the  poor  shall  never  want 
 wherewithal.  "  He  that  watereth  shall  be 
 watered  himself."  And  the  cake  that  the 
 widow  gave  to  the  prophet  did  not  cause 
 that  she  had  the  less  in  her  barrel. 
 
 Bunyan. 
 
 DOING  GOOD— Ways  of. 
 
 Near  the  foot  of  a  mountain  crossed  by 
 a  much  travelled  road,  a  delicious  fountain 
 of  water  gushed  fi-om  a  fissure  in  a  rock. 
 Its  natural  course  led  away  from  the  road, 
 but  by  a  little  eflbrt  it  could  be  brought 
 within  the  reach  of  travellers  and  animals 
 passing  by.  Mr.  Sawyer,  the  owner  of  the 
 land,  gave  it  this  direction,  and  placed  a 
 wide  trough  for  the  reception  of  the  water. 
 Many  a  panting  team  was  refreshed  there- 
 by, and  many  a  traveller  tasted  the  cool  and 
 sparkling  beverage. 
 
 "  Father,"  said  Robert  Harmer,  as  they 
 came  along  and  saw  Mr.  Sawyer  at  work, 
 "  what  does  Mr.  Sawyer  do  that  for  ?" 
 
 "  To  do  good,"  was  the  reply. 
 
 "  AVhat  good  will  it  do  him  ?  He  will 
 never  want  to  use  the  water." 
 
 "  His  object  is  to  do  good  to  others. 
 Great  numbers  will  be  benefited  by  this 
 act  of  his." 
 
 "  But  they  won't  know  that  he  did  it, 
 and  he  won't  get  any  credit  for  it." 
 
 "  He  does  it  to  do  good — not  to  get 
 credit  for  it.  Happiness  is  gained  by  doing 
 good — not  in  getting  credit  for  it.  He 
 knows  that  he  has  made  an  unselfish  eflTort 
 to  do  good,  and  God  knows  it ;  hence  it  is 
 no  matter  whether  any  others  know  it  or 
 not." 
 
 Mr.  Sawyer  did  a  good  woric  in  opening 
 a  refreshing  fountain  by  the  wayside. 
 
 Moral  fountains  may  be  opened  by  the 
 wayside  for  refreshing  pilgi-ims — travellers 
 for  eternity. 
 
 One  sets  an  example  of  strict  integrity 
 in  the  midst  of  great  temptations.  The 
 sight  is  as  refreshing  to  a  tempted 
 pilgrim  as  is  a  fountain  to  a  thirsty  tra- 
 veller. 
 
 One  sets  an  example  of  Christian  thank- 
 fulness and  trust  in  God.  It  may  refresh 
 many  a  pilgrim  who  is  careful  and  troubled 
 about  many  things. 
 
 Oue  sets  an  example  of  forgiveness  and 
 of  returning  good  for  evil.  It  may  refresh 
 and  invigorate  for  duty  many  who  are 
 smarting  under  a  sense  of  injustice,  and 
 tried  with  temptations  to  revenge. 
 
 We  may  thus  open  fountains  by  the 
 v/ay  side.  We  may  not  know  how  many 
 we  may  thus  benefit ;  but  God  does. 
 
 Dr.  Wise.. 
 
 Tliere  is  a  pleasant  story  told  of  a  man 
 living  on  the  borders  of  an  African  desert 
 who  carried  daily  a  pitcher  of  cold  water 
 to  the  dusty  thoroughfare,  and  left  it  for 
 any  thirsty  traveller  who  might  pass  that 
 way.  And  our  Saviour  said  :  '•  VVhosoever 
 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  unto  you,  he 
 shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward."  But 
 cups  of  cold  water  are  not  given  in  African 
 deserts  alone.  A  spiritual  Sahara  spreads 
 over  the  whole  earth,  and  to  its  fainting 
 travellers  many  a  ready  hand  holds  forth 
 the  grateful  "  cup." 
 
 A  lady,  whose  home  looks  out  upon  our 
 beautiful  common,  called  to  ask  me  if  I 
 could  tell  her  of  some  poor  and  sick  per- 
 sons to  whom  she  could  be  of  sei-vice  in 
 furnishing  good  books.  The  names  of  two 
 were  given ;  and  the  Testament,  in  large 
 type,  which  shortly  found  its  way  to  the 
 old  man's  abode,  also  the  green  tea,  and 
 white  sugar — rare  luxuries — for  the  feeble 
 woman  in  the  cellar  kitchen,  and  the  dol- 
 lar bill,  slipped  into  her  hand  at  parting — 
 were  they  not  "  cups  of  cold  water  ?" 
 
 A  poor  Scotch  comb-maker's  wife,  whose 
 generous  heart  is  larger  than  her  purse, 
 gave  me  fifteen  combs,  asking,  in  a  half- 
 doubting  way,  if  I  thought  some  poor 
 children,  who  had  none,  would  not  like 
 them.  And  so  fifteen  young  hearts  were 
 made  glad  !  By  what  ?  Surely  by  "  cu])3 
 of  cold  water,"  in  no  wise  to  lose  their 
 reward.  . 
 
 Several  young  misses  met  in  our  pastor's 
 parlour  in  the  early  part  of  the  season, 
 to  sew  for  poor  children.  From  time  to 
 time  they  have  come  together,  plying  busy 
 fingers  with  happy  hearts.  And  we  have 
 sixty-two  garments  as  a  result.     Siity-two 
 
272 
 
 DOUBLE-PACEDNESS— DOUBIE-MINDEDNESS. 
 
 "  c-ups  of  cold  water."  How  the  heavenly 
 inventory  runs  up  ! 
 
 A  pious  German  woman,  herself  an  in- 
 valid, heard  that  her  neighbour  in  the 
 yard  below  was  yet  more  feeble.  The 
 battle  of  wine,  provided  for  her  at  the 
 doctor's  suggestion,  would  surely  do  that 
 neighbour  good.  And  so  nimble  little  feet 
 are  soon  at  the  widow^s  door,  a  bright  face 
 looks  in,  and  with  a  "  Mother  sent  you 
 this,"  the  little  flask  stands  upon  the  table. 
 "Wine  to  the  sick  woman  it  may  be;  but 
 the  divine  chemistry,  which  years  ago 
 changed  water  into  wine,  can  show  this 
 also  to  be  a  "  cup  of  cold  water  !" 
 
 Late  one  Saturday  evening  a  pious 
 widow  in  humble  circumstances,  who  had 
 not  walked,  save  from  one  chamber  to 
 another  for  years,  sent  me  a  loaf  of  bread, 
 with  the  message,  "The  Lord  sent  it  tome 
 for  some  poor  woman,"  The  lateness  of 
 the  hour  and  our  Lord's  saying  that  it  was 
 lawful  to  do  good  on  the  Sabbath  day, 
 determined  me  to  leave  it  until  the  morn- 
 ing, when  I  took  it  where  I  thought  it 
 would  be  welcome.  "  The  Lord  has  sent 
 you  a  loaf  of  bread,  Mrs.  S — ,"  I  remarked, 
 as  I  went  in.  Lifting  up  her  hands  to- 
 ward heaven,  her  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
 she  exclaimed  :  "  The  Lord  be  praised." 
 Then,  pointing  to  the  neatly  spread  table, 
 with  its  scanty  breakfast,  she  said :  "  There 
 is  all  we  had  for  to-day."  Was  it  strange 
 that  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells  made 
 glad  music  in  my  ear  that  morning  ?  And 
 may  we  not  believe  notes  of  joy  were 
 heard  above,  as  the  heavenly  chronicler 
 noted  down,  in  that  wondrous  book,  ano- 
 ther "  cup  of  cold  water  in  the  name  of  a 
 disciple  ?" 
 
 And  so  streams  of  refreshing  flow 
 through  the  parched  desert.  So  to  faint- 
 ing lips  is  passed,  by  loving  hands,  the  over- 
 flowing "  cup."  Susan  M.  Underwood. 
 
 EOUBLE-FACEDNESS. 
 
 There  are  minerals  which  exhibit  differ- 
 ent colours  on  difi'creut  faces.  Thus  dich- 
 roite,  or  iolite,  is  often  deep  blue  along  its 
 vertical  axis ;  but  on  a  side  perpendicular 
 to  this  axis  it  is  brownish,  yet  low.  The 
 phenomenon  results  from  the  manner  in 
 which  the  particles  are  arranged  for  reflect- 
 ing and  transmitting  light.  The  whole 
 internal  structure  must  be  changed  before 
 the  same  colour  shall  be  presented  on  all 
 the  faces.  There  is  a  moral  dichroism.  It 
 consists  in  a  man's  being  Janus-faced — 
 that  is,  double-faced — both  in  his  princi- 
 ples and  his  practice,  in  order  to  secure 
 popular  fiivour  and  avoid  odium.  The 
 chameleon  is  said  to  have  the  power  of 
 assuming  the  colour  of  the  object  on  which 
 it  fastens ;  so  this  man  means  to  conform 
 his  creed  and  his  practice  to  those  which 
 are  most  popular  in  the  community  where 
 
 he  happens  to  abide  or  sojourn.  In  one 
 place  lie  is  orthodox;  in  another,  heter- 
 odox ; — in  one,  an  advocate  for  temperance; 
 in  another,  loose  in  this  matter,  both  in 
 theory  and  practice ; — in  one  place,  pro- 
 slavery  ;  in  another,  anti-slavery.  His 
 moral  and  religious  principles  are  not  set- 
 tled, or  rather  he  makes  them  bend  to  his 
 worldly  interest,  and  you  have  no  way  of 
 determining  wdiere  to  find  him  in  any  cir- 
 cumstance, except  to  inquire — what  as- 
 pect self-interest  will  require  him  to  put  on. 
 Nor  will  it  ever  be  essentially  better  until 
 Divine  grace  shall  have  transformed  and 
 re-arranged  the  elements  of  his  character. 
 Br.  mtchcock. 
 
 DOUBLE-MINDEDNESS— Description  of. 
 See  the  professor  labouring,  but  in  vain. 
 The  world  and  cross  together  to  sustain ; 
 The  globe  is  in  his  right  hand  dexterous 
 
 found. 
 His  left  the  cross,  drags  sluggish  on  the 
 
 ground ; 
 In  vain  for  him  appears  the  narrow  way. 
 The   world  has   led  him   from   the   path 
 
 astray :  flin^i*'' 
 
 In  vain  for  him  shines  forth  the  heavenly 
 The  world  has  risen  and  obscured  his  sight ; 
 Two  minds  he  has,  both  he  may  call  his 
 
 own,  [down ; 
 
 Sometimes  they  lead  him  up,  and  sometimes 
 Like  doubtful  birds,  that  hop  from  spray 
 
 to  spray. 
 His  will  is  never  at  one  certain  stay ; 
 Too  late  he  learns  with  deep  regret  and 
 
 pain, 
 He  loses  both  who  more  than  one  wcnild 
 
 gain.  W.  Holmes. 
 
 DOUBLE-MINDEDNESS— Example  of. 
 
 The  mad  prophet  Balaam  is  a  remarkable 
 instance  of  double-mindedness.  In  profes- 
 sion, he  would  be  a  pi-ophet  of  Jehovah ; 
 in  practice  he  followed  and  "loved  the  wages 
 of  unrighteousness."  Despised  by  the 
 people  of  God,  to  whom  he  was  a  stumbling- 
 block  ;  despised  and  reproached  by  Balak 
 for  his  indecision,  he  died  under  the  weight 
 of  a  double  curse,  and  left  his  name  a  pro- 
 verb of  reproach  and  shame.  Ibid. 
 
 DOUBLE-MINDEDNESS— FoUy  of. 
 
 The  fiibled  Atlas,  who  carried  the  world 
 on  his  shoulders,  attempted  nothing,  ac- 
 complished nothing,  compared  with  the 
 man  who  labours  to  secure  both  this  world 
 and  the  next.  He  has  two  souls,  or  minds, 
 which  govern  him  by  turns  ;  but  in  the 
 end,  the  worldly  principle  prevails.  His 
 folly  consists  in  trying  to  do  what  is  in  it- 
 self ab.solutely  impossible — what  no  man 
 ever  did  or  ever  can  do.  God  Himself  has 
 separated  the  world  from  the  cross ;  what 
 God  hath  separated,  no  man  may  bring  to- 
 gether; the  nature  of  the  Gospel  forbids 
 
DOUBT— LOtJBTS. 
 
 273 
 
 such  union.  Its  influences,  doctrines,  pre- 
 cepts, objects,  tendencies,  and  final  issues 
 are  all  opposed,  and  contrary  to  the  princi- 
 ples, maxims,  practices,  and  interests  of 
 this  world.  Ibid. 
 
 DOUBT— Torments  of. 
 
 Oh,  how  this  tyrant,  douht,  torments  my 
 
 breast ! 
 My  tlioughts,  like  birds,  who,  frighten'd 
 
 from  their  nest. 
 Around  the  place  where   all  was   hush'd 
 
 before. 
 Flutter,  and  hardly  nestle  any  more. 
 
 T.  Otway. 
 DOUBT— Use  of. 
 
 Doubt  is  the  vestibule  which  all  must 
 pass  before  they  can  enter  into  the  temple 
 of  wisdom;  therefore,  when  we  are  in 
 doubt,  and  puzzle  out  the  truth  by  our 
 own  exertions,  we  have  gained  a  something 
 that  will  stay  by  us,  and  which  will  serve 
 us  again.  But  if  to  avoid  the  trouble  of 
 the  search  we  avail  ourselves  of  the  superior 
 information  of  a  friend,  such  knowledge 
 will  not  remain  with  us;  we  have  not 
 lought  but  borroived  it.  C.  CoUon. 
 
 DOUBT  AND  SUSPENSE. 
 
 The  doubt  respects  that  which  we  should 
 believe ;  the  suspense  that  which  we  wish 
 to  know  or  ascertain.  We  are  in  doubt  for 
 the  want  of  evidence  ;  we  are  in  suspense 
 for  the  want  of  certainty.  The  dotibt  in- 
 terrupts our  progress  in  the  attainment  of 
 truth ;  the  suspense  impedes  us  in  the  at- 
 tainment of  our  objects  ;  the  former  is  con- 
 nected principally  with  the  understanding ; 
 the  latter  acts  altogether  upon  the  hopes. 
 We  have  our  doubts  about  things  that 
 have  no  regard  to  time ;  we  are  in  *!(*- 
 pense  about  things  that  are  to  happen  in 
 future.  Those  are  the  loast  inclined  to 
 doubt  who  have  the  most  thorough  know- 
 ledge of  a  subject;  those  are  the  least  ex- 
 posed to  the  unpleasant  feeling  of  suspense 
 who  confine  their  wishes  to  the  present. 
 
 G.  Crabb. 
 
 DOUBTING- Cause  of. 
 
 And  what  is  the  cause  of  doubting  but 
 the  disappearance  of  truth  ?  How  comes 
 the  mind  to  be  frighted  and  amazed,  but 
 because  it  is  in  the  dark  ?  When  truth 
 wraps  itself  in  a  cloud,  and  shuns  the  eye, 
 then  the  reason  of  man  is  in  suspense  and 
 under  various  fluctuations  which  way  to 
 determine ;  but  it  is  certainty  alone  that 
 is  at  the  bottom  of  all  rational  determina- 
 tions. -Dr.  South. 
 
 DOUBTING— Checked. 
 
 O  faithless,  unbelieving  heart ! 
 
 So  slow  to  trust  that  tend'rest  Friend, 
 Who  aye  will  needful  strength  impart, 
 
 Who  "  loving,  loves  unto  the  end." 
 
 No  longer  doubt,  nor  fear,  nor  grieve. 
 
 Nor  on  uncertain  evils  dwell ; 
 Past,  present,  future,  calmly  leave 
 
 To  Him  who  will  "  do  all  things  well." 
 Anon 
 
 DOUBTING— Cure  of. 
 
 This   pretty  bird,  oh !   how  she  flies  and 
 
 sings ! 
 But  could  she  do  so  if  she  had  not  wings  ? 
 Her  wings  bespeak  my  faith,  her  songs  my 
 
 peace ; 
 When  I  believe  and  sing,  my  doubtings 
 
 cease.  Bunyan, 
 
 DOUBTING— no  Good  in. 
 
 No  good  comes  of  doubting  and  brooding 
 over  one's  sins.  Dr.  Fayson. 
 
 DOUBTING— the  Promises. 
 
 But  we  fools  believe  the  promises  as 
 the  man  that  read  Plato's  writings  con- 
 cerning the  immortality  of  the  soul.  So 
 long  as  the  book  was  in  his  hand,  he  be- 
 lieved that  all  was  true,  and  that  the  soul 
 could  not  die;  but  so  soon  as  he  laid  by 
 the  book,  presently  he  began  to  imagine 
 that  the  soul  is  but  a  smoke  or  airy  vapour, 
 that  perisheth  with  the  expiring  of  the 
 breath ;  so  we  at  starts  do  assent  to  the 
 sweet  and  precious  promises;  but  laying 
 aside  God's  book,  we  begin  to  call  all  in 
 question.  S.  Rutherford. 
 
 DOUBTING— "Weariness  of. 
 
 There  is  no  weariness  like  that  which 
 rises  from  doubting,  from  the  perpetual 
 jogging  of  anfixed  reason.  The  torment 
 of  suspense  is  very  great ;  and  as  soon  as 
 the  wavering  perplexed  mind  begins  to 
 determine,  be  the  determination  which 
 way  soever,  it  will  find  itself  at  ease. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 DOUBTS— Destroying. 
 
 When  Dr.Merle  D'Aubignewas  a  student 
 at  Kiel  he  was  oppressed  with  doubts,  and 
 went  to  Klenken,  an  old  experienced 
 teacher,  for  help.  The  old  man  refused  to 
 answer  them,  saying,  "  Were  I  to  rid  you 
 of  these,  others  would  come.  There  is  a 
 shorter  way  of  destroying  them.  Let  Christ 
 be  to  you  really  the  Son  of  God,  the 
 Saviour,  and  His  light  will  dispel  the 
 darkness,  and  His  Spirit  lead  you  into  all 
 truth."  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 DOUBTS— Influence  of. 
 
 I  once  told  my  congregation  that  I  had 
 passed  through  a  season  of  doubt  and  fear. 
 One  of  my  elders  said  to  me,  "  Sir,  I  am 
 sorry  you  told  the  people  that.  Just  sup- 
 pose you  had  been  swearing  or  stealing, 
 you  would  not  have  told  them  of  it?" 
 "  No,"  I  answered,  "  that  would  be  a  terri- 
 ble thing."  "  Well,"  replied  he,  "  I  don't 
 18 
 
274 
 
 DOUSTS— DREAMS. 
 
 think  it  is  much  worf?e  than  disbelievinc; 
 God,  and  if  you  go  and  tell  the  people  that 
 you  set  them  a  bad  example."  And  he  was 
 right.  It  is  not  for  the  leader  in  any  cause 
 to  doubt  the  success  of  the  enterprise. 
 
 C  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 DOUBTS— Traitors. 
 
 Our  doubts  are  traitors, 
 And  make  us  lose  the  good  we  oft  might 
 
 win 
 By  fearing  to  attempt.  Shakespeare. 
 
 DREAM— An  Eternal. 
 
 Wicked  men  shrink  back  with  inde- 
 scribable horror  from  an  eternal  dream. 
 A  writer,  not  more  distinguished  for  his 
 talent  than  for  his  infidel  insinuations,  on 
 more  than  one  occasion  doubted  the  theory 
 he  had  avowedly  embraced;  and  on  such 
 an  occasion,  when  thinking  of  the  Humism 
 of  death  being  an  eternal  sleep,  he  says, 
 "  It  has  often  crossed  my  mind,  during  mo- 
 ments of  gloomy  scepticism,  the  possibility 
 that  the  last  sleep  may  not  be  dreamless. 
 Fancy  an  endless  dream  of  horror.  It  is 
 too  dreadful  to  think  of;  this  thought 
 alone  would  lead  the  veriest  clod  of  ani- 
 mated clay  to  aspire  after  immortality." 
 Even  Byron  shrunk  from  the  dream,  the 
 eternal  dream,  his  own  thoughts  could 
 supply.  Dr.  Mewlett. 
 
 DREAMS— Divine  Action  in 
 
 Many  of  our  readers  will  remember  a 
 case  which  filled  the  newspapers  some  years 
 ago.  One  point  in  it,  which  was  only  pro- 
 duced because  it  was  historically  necessary 
 to  complete  the  case,  engaged  our  atten- 
 tion greatly  at  the  time.  A  young  woman 
 was  murdered  in  a  barn,  and  buried  under 
 the  floor.  She  was  thought  by  all  who 
 concerned  themselves  about  her  to  be  still 
 alive  in  another  place;  and  the  murder 
 remained  not  only  undiscovered,  but  un- 
 suspected at  the  time,  when  the  young 
 woman's  mother  was  warned  repeatedly 
 in  a  dream  to  search  the  barn.  She  did 
 so;  the  murder  was  thus  discovered,  and 
 the  murderer  (Corder)  condemned  and 
 executed.  Now,  from  what  other  cause 
 tl»an  a  supernatural  action  upon  the  mind 
 of  the  mother  could  this  dream  have  been 
 produced  ?  Dr.  Kilto. 
 
 DREAMS— Description  of. 
 
 Dreams   are   but   interludes   which   fancy 
 
 makes ; 
 When  monarch  reason  sleeps,  this  mimic 
 
 wakes ; 
 Compounds  a  medley  of  disjointed  things, 
 A  court  of  cobblers,  and  a  mob  of  kings ; 
 Light  fumes  are  merry,  grosser  fumes  are 
 
 sad. 
 Both  are  the  reasonable  soul  run  mad ; 
 
 And  many  monstrous  forms  in  sleep  we 
 
 see. 
 That  neither  were,  nor  are,  nor  e'er  can  be. 
 Sometimes  forgotten  things,  long  cast  be- 
 hind, 
 Rush  forward  in  the  brain,  and  come  to 
 
 mind. 
 The  nurse's  legends  are  for  truths  receiv'd. 
 And  the  man's  dreams  but  what  the  boy 
 
 belie  v'd. 
 Sometimes  we  but  rehearse  a  former  play, 
 The  night  restores  our  actions  done  by  day, 
 As  hounds  in  sleep  will  open  for  their  prey  ; 
 In  short,  the  farce  of  dreams  is  of  a  piece, 
 Chimeras  all,  and  more  absurd  or  less. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 DREAMS— Pleasant. 
 
 A  French  writer  has  said  that  to  dream 
 gloriously,  you  must  act  gloriously  while 
 you  are  awake ;  and  to  bring  angels  down 
 to  converse  with  you  in  your  sleep,  you 
 must  labom-  in  the  cause  of  virtue  during 
 the  day.  Anon. 
 
 DREAMS— Premonition  in. 
 
 We  have  been  informed  of  a  strange 
 coincidence  in  the  death  of  the  late  Alder- 
 man McPherson,  which  involves  the  mys- 
 terious to  such  a  degree  as  to  make  it  one 
 of  those  unaccountable  illusions  which 
 sometimes  occur  as  a  prescient  to  some 
 impending  fiite.  The  facts  abound  so 
 much  in  the  marvellous,  that,  were  they 
 not  given  on  the  undoubted  authority  of 
 the  bereaved  widow,  who  now  is  left  to 
 mourn  the  loss  of  him  whose  death  was  so 
 strikingly  revealed  to  her,  we  should  not 
 attempt  to  rehearse  them.  On  the  Thurs- 
 day night  previous  to  his  death,  the  de- 
 ceased gentleman  was  awakened  by  the 
 continued  sobbing  of  his  wife,  whose  cries, 
 though  asleep,  were  distinctly  audible  to 
 several  of  the  inmates  of  the  house. 
 Awakening  her  he  inquired  the  reason  of 
 her  incessant  moaning,  when  she  informed 
 him  that  she  had  had  a  dream,  in  which 
 she  saw  the  two  gentlemen,  who  were 
 afterwards  the  first  to  tell  her  the  sad 
 news,  enter  the  house  and  actually  inform 
 her  of  his  death.  Every  circumstance  was 
 so  vivid,  that  she  remarked  it  as  some- 
 thing peculiar,  and  besought  him  on  the 
 Saturday  morning,  when  he  went  away, 
 to  be  careful  of  himself,  as  she  felt  con- 
 fident that  something  unusual  would 
 shortly  occur.  True,  in  her  premonition, 
 he  never  returned  alive,  and  on  the  Rev, 
 Mr.  Scott  and  his  friend  Mr.  Lester,  en- 
 tering her  house  on  the  same  evening  to 
 inform  her  of  his  death,  she  did  not  wait 
 for  their  announcement,  but  holding  up 
 her  hands  in  despair,  said,  "  Is  he  dead  ?  " 
 and  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  fell 
 exhausted  on  the  floor.  The  sad  coin- 
 cidence of  the  actual  cu'cumstauces  as  they 
 
DREAMS— DRESS. 
 
 273 
 
 occurred,  with  the  dveam,  marks  it  one  of 
 the  strangest  on  record. 
 
 London  C.  IF.  Frotott/pe,  1864. 
 
 DREAMS— Providence  in. 
 
 Captain  Yount,  of  California,  in  a  mid- 
 winter's night  had  a  dream,  in  which  he 
 saw  wliat  appeared  to  be  a  company  of 
 emigrants  arrested  by  the  snows  of  the 
 mountains,  and  perishing  rapidly  by  cold 
 and  hunger.  He  noted  the  very  cast  of 
 the  scenery,  marked  by  a  huge  perpendi- 
 cular front  of  white  rock  clift'j  he  saw  the 
 men  cutting  off  what  appeared  to  be  tree 
 tops  rising  out  of  deep  gulfs  of  snow;  he  dis- 
 tinguished the  very  features  of  the  persons 
 and  the  look  of  their  particular  distress. 
 He  woke  profoundly  impressed  with  the 
 distinctness  and  apparent  reality  of  his 
 dream.  At  length  he  fell  asleep,  and 
 dreamed  exactly  the  same  dream  again. 
 In  the  morning  he  could  not  expel  it  from 
 his  mind.  Falling  in  shortly  with  an  old 
 hunter  comrade,  he  told  him  the  story  ; 
 and  was  only  the  more  deeply  impressed 
 by  his  recognising,  without  hesitation,  the 
 scenery  of  the  dream.  This  comrade  came 
 over  the  Sierra  by  the  Carson  Valley  Pass 
 (in  California)  and  declared  that  a  spot  in 
 the  Pass  answered  exactly  to  his  descrip- 
 tion. By  this,  the  unsophisticated  patri- 
 arch was  decided.  He  immediately  col- 
 lected a  company  of  men  with  mules  and 
 blankets,  and  all  necessary  provisions. 
 The  neighbours  were  laughing,  meantime, 
 at  his  credulity.  "No  matter,"  said  he, 
 "  I  am  able  to  do  this,  and  I  will,  for  I 
 verily  believe  that  the  fact  is  according  to 
 my  dream."  The  men  were  sent  into  the 
 mountains  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
 distant,  directly  to  the  Carson  Valley  Pass. 
 And  there  they  found  the  company  in  ex- 
 actly the  condition  of  the  dream,  and 
 brought  in  the  remnant  alive. 
 
 A  gentleman  present,  when  the  Captain 
 told  me,  said,  "  Yon  need  not  doubt  this, 
 for  we  Californians  all  know  the  facts,  and 
 the  names  of  the  famihes  brought  in,  who 
 look  upon  our  venerable  friend  as  a  kind  of 
 Saviour."  Their  names  he  gave,  and  the 
 places  where  they  reside,  and  I  found  after- 
 wards, that  the  California  people  were 
 ready  everywhere  to  second  his  testimony. 
 Dr.  BusJmell. 
 
 DREAMS— Scripture  View  of. 
 
 The  view  of  dreams  set  forth  in  Scrip- 
 ture, and  which  pervades  the  sacred  books, 
 is,  that  God  does  sometimes  make  known 
 His  will  to  man,  and  disclose  His  purposes 
 in  dreams  :  "  God  speaketh  once,  yea  twice, 
 yet  man  perceiveth  it  not,  in  a  dream,  in 
 a  vision  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep 
 falleth  vipon  men,  in  slumbering  upon  the 
 bed,  then  He  openeth  the  ears  of  men,  and 
 sealeth  their  instruction;   that   He   may 
 
 withdraw  man  from  his  purpose,  and  hide 
 pride  xrom  man"  (Job  xxxiii,  14-17).  See 
 also  Joel  ii,  28,  compared  with  Acts  ii,  16, 
 17.  The  question  is,  whether  these  things 
 have  ceased?  It  may  be  so.  Miracles 
 have  ceased;  prophecy  has  closed;  why 
 may  not  significant  dreams  also  have 
 ceased  ?     They  may ;  but  have  they  ? 
 
 Dr.  Kitto. 
 
 DREAMS— Various  Views  of. 
 
 The  Egyptians  and  Babylonians  at- 
 tached great  importance  to  dreams,  and  to 
 interpret  them  was  the  work  of  a  distinct 
 and  learned  profession.  The  Persians  also 
 attached  great  importance  to  dreams,  and 
 it  is  rejjorted  Cyrus  was  cast  forth  at  his 
 birth,  because  a  dream  of  his  mother  was 
 interpreted  to  promise  him  universal  em- 
 pire. In  the  Chou-king  of  the  Chinese,  it 
 is  in  dreams  that  the  Sovereign  of  Heaven 
 makes  his  will  known  to  the  sovereign  of 
 earth.  In  Homer,  dreams  came  from  Jove. 
 The  Greeks  and  Romans  believed  that  in  the 
 solitude  of  caves,  and  groves,  and  temples, 
 the  gods  appeared  in  dreams,  and  deigned 
 to  answer  in  dreams  their  votaries.  Among 
 the  Hindoos,  dreams  give  a  colouring  to 
 the  whole  business  of  life.  All  dreams  are 
 of  importance  among  the  North  American 
 Indians.  The  Moslems  hold  good  dreams 
 from  God,  and  bad  from  the  devil.       Ibid. 
 
 DRESS— Decency  in. 
 
 It  is  the  saying  of  an  old  divine,  "  Two 
 things  in  my  apparel  I  will  chiefiy  aim  at 
 — commodiousness  and  decency ;  more  than 
 these  is  not  commendable,  yet  I  hate  an 
 eff'eminate  spruceness  as  much  as  a  fan- 
 tastic disorder.  A  neglected  comeliness  is 
 the  best  ornament."  It  is  said  of  the 
 celebrated  Mr.  Whitfield,  that  he  always 
 was  very  clean  and  neat,  and  often  said 
 pleasantly,  "  That  a  minister  of  the  Gospel 
 ought  to  be  without  a  spot."  J.  Beaumont, 
 
 DRESS— Simplicity  in. 
 
 The  angel  who  takes  care  of  the  flowers, 
 and  sprinkles  upon  them  dew  in  the  still 
 night,  slumbered  on  a  spring  day  in  the 
 shade  of  a  rose-bush.  When  tie  awoke,  he 
 said,  "Most  beautiful  of  my  children,  I 
 thank  thee  for  thy  refreshing  odour  and 
 cooling  shade.  Could  you  now  ask  any 
 favour,  how  willingly  would  I  grant  it." 
 
 "Adorn  me,  then,  with  a  new  charm," 
 said  the  spirit  of  the.  rose-bush,  in  a  be- 
 seeching tone. 
 
 So  the  angel  adorned  the  loveliest  of 
 flowers  with  simple  moss.  Sweetly  it  stood 
 there,  in  its  modest  attire,  the  moss-rose, 
 the  most  beautiful  of  its  kind. 
 
 So  the  costliest  ornaments  are  often  the 
 simplest.  There  is  no  gold,  nor  jewel,  nor 
 sparkling  pearl  equal  to  the  ''  ornament  of 
 
276 
 
 DRESS- DUTY, 
 
 a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,"  which  is,  in  the 
 sight  of  God,  of  great  price.  Krummacher. 
 
 DRESS— in  the  Sunday-School  Teacher. 
 
 Surely  among  religious  people  this  sub- 
 ject should  engage  more  serious  attention 
 than  it  generally  does,  and  especially  as  it 
 affects  the  influence  of  the  Sunday-school 
 teacher.  What,  we  may  ask,  will  be  the 
 natural  eflect  of  a  gaily-dressed  teacher 
 upon  the  minds  of  the  little  group  whom 
 she  has  gathered  round  her  ?  She  may 
 diligently  and  orthodoxly  expound  to  them 
 "the  sermon  on  the  mount,"  or  "the 
 scheme  of  redemption ;"  but  they  will  be 
 admiring  her  artificial  flowers,  be  twisting 
 an  imaginary  ribbon  into  fanciful  bows 
 like  hers,  or  be  counting  her  flounces,  her 
 fringes,  or  her  buttons;  or  they  may  be 
 wishing,  Uke  a  little  girl  I  have  heard  of, 
 that  she  was  "  a  grown-up  woman,  to  wear 
 a  dress  like  the  ladies,  to  draggle."  Round 
 the  tea-table  at  home,  the  young  scholars 
 will  describe  with  interest  the  exact  minu- 
 tia3  of  the  teacher's  dress;  but,  alas  for 
 "the  scheme  of  redemption!" — that  will 
 have  gone  in  at  one  ear,  and  out  at  the 
 other.  Mrs.  Sewell. 
 
 DRUNKARD— a  Monster. 
 
 A  drunkard  is  the  annoyance  of  modesty, 
 the  trouble  of  civility,  the  spoil  of  wealth, 
 the  destruction  of  reason.  He  is  the  thief 
 of  his  own  substance,  the  beggar's  com- 
 panion, the  constable's  trouble.  He  is  his 
 wife's  woe,  his  children's  sorrow,  his  neigh- 
 bour's scoff",  his  own  shame.  He  is  a 
 spirit  of  unrest;  a  thing  below  a  beast, 
 and  a  monster  of  a  man.  T.  Adams. 
 
 DRUNKENNESS— Degradation  of. 
 
 There  is  no  sin  which  doth  more  deface 
 God's  image  than  drunkenness,  it  dis- 
 guiseth  a  person,  and  doth  even  unman 
 him.  Drunkenness  makes  him  have  the 
 throat  of  a  fish,  the  belly  of  a  swine,  and 
 the  head  of  an  ass.  Drunkenness  is  the 
 shame  of  nature,  the  extinguisher  of 
 reason,  the  shipwreck  of  chastity,  and  the 
 murder  of  conscience.  Drunkenness  is 
 hurtful  to  the  body;  the  cup  kills  more 
 than  the  cannon;  it  causes  dropsies,  ca- 
 tarrhs, apoplexies;  it  fills  the  eye  with 
 fire,  and  the  legs  with  water,  and  turns 
 the  body  into  an  hospital.  T.  Watson. 
 
 DRUNKENNESS— Testimonies  against. 
 
 There  is  scarcely  a  crime  before  me  that 
 is  not,  directly  or  indirectly,  caused  by 
 strong  drink.  Judge  Coleridge. 
 
 Every  crime  has  its  origin,  more  or  less, 
 in  drunkenness.  Judge  Q-urney. 
 
 If  it  were  not  for  this  drinking,  you 
 [the  jury]  and  I  would  have  nothing  to 
 do.  Judge  Fatteson. 
 
 Drunkenness  is  the  most  fertile  source 
 of  crime.  Judge  Alderson. 
 
 I  find  in  every  calendar  that  comes  be- 
 fore me  one  unfaihng  source,  dii-ectly,  of 
 most  of  the  crimes  that  are  committed — 
 intemperance.  Judge  Wightman. 
 
 Experience  has  proved  that  almost  all 
 crime  into  which  juries  have  to  inquire 
 may  be  traced,  in  one  way  or  other,  to  the 
 habits  of  drunkenness.        Judge  JFilliams. 
 
 DUTIES  AND  EVENTS. 
 
 Duties  are  ours,  events  are  the  Lord's; 
 when  our  faith  goeth  to  meddle  with 
 events,  and  to  hold  a  court  (if  I  may  so 
 speak)  upon  God's  providence,  and  be- 
 ginneth  to  say,  "  How  wilt  thou  do  this 
 and  that?"  we  lose  ground;  we  have 
 nothing  to  do  there,  it  is  our  part  to  let 
 the  Almighty  exercise  His  own  office,  and 
 steer  His  own  helm ;  there  is  nothing  left 
 us  but  to  see  how  we  may  be  approved  of 
 Him,  and  how  we  may  roll  the  weight  of 
 our  weak  souls  in  well  doing  upon  Him  who 
 is  God  omnipotent ;  and  when  what  we 
 thus  essay  miscarrieth,  it  shall  neither  be 
 our  sin  nor  error.  S.  Rutherford. 
 
 DUTIES  (Spiritual)— The  Spirit  in. 
 
 Spiritual  duties  are  as  opposite  to  flesh 
 and  blood  as  fire  to  water ;  but,  as  anoint- 
 ing makes  the  members  nimble,  and  strong 
 and  cheerful,  so,  where  the  Spirit  of  God 
 is  in  any  man,  it  makes  him  nimble,  and 
 strong,  and  cheerful  to  do  good  duties. 
 But  when  we  are  drawn  to  them  as  a  bear 
 to  the  stake,  for  fear,  or  an  inbred  natural 
 custom,  this  is  not  from  the  Spirit;  for 
 where  the  Spirit  is,  these  duties  are  per- 
 formed without  force,  fear,  or  hopes.  A 
 child  needs  no  extrinsical  motion  to  make 
 him  please  his  father,  because  it  is  inbred 
 and  natural  to  him.  Sibbes. 
 
 DUTY— Attending  to. 
 
 Mr.  Carter,  a  pious  minister,  once  com- 
 ing softly  behind  a  religious  man  of  his 
 own  acquaintance,  who  was  busily  em- 
 ployed in  tanning  a  hide,  and  giving  him 
 a  tap  on  the  shoulder,  the  man  started, 
 looked  behind,  and  with  a  blushing  coun- 
 tenance, said,  "  Sir,  I  am  ashamed  that  you 
 should  find  me  thus."  To  whom  Mr.  Car- 
 ter replied,  "  Let  Christ,  when  He  cometh, 
 find  me  so  doing."  "What,"  said  the 
 man,  "  doing  thus  ?"  "  Yes,"  said  Mr. 
 Carter;  "  faithfully  performing  the  duties 
 of  my  calling."  /.  Whitecross. 
 
 DUTY— Christian. 
 
 The  duty  of  a  Christian  is  easy  in  per- 
 secution, it  is  clear  under  a  tyranny,  it  is 
 evident  in  despite  of  heresy  it  is  one  in  the 
 midst  of  schism,  it  is  determined  amongst 
 infinite  disputes ;  being  like  a  rock  in  the 
 
DUTY. 
 
 277 
 
 sea,  which  is  beaten  with  the  tide,  and 
 washed  with  retiring  waters,  and  encom- 
 passed with  mists,  and  appears  in  several 
 figures,  but  it  always  dips  its  foot  in  the 
 same  bottom,  and  remains  the  same  in 
 calms  and  storms,  and  survives  the  revo- 
 lution of  ten  thousand  tides,  and  there 
 shall  dwell  till  time  and  tides  shall  be  no 
 more.  So  is  our  duty,  uniform,  and  con- 
 stant, open  and  notorious,  variously  repre- 
 sented, but  in  the  same  manner  exacted; 
 and  in  the  interest  of  our  souls  God  hath 
 not  exposed  us  to  uncertainty,  or  the  va- 
 riety of  anything  that  can  change ;  and  it 
 is  by  the  grace  and  mercy  of  God  put  into 
 the  power  of  every  Christian  to  do  that 
 which  God  through  Jesus  Christ  will  ac- 
 cept to  salvation ;  and  neither  men  nor 
 devils  shall  hinder  it,  unless  we  list  our- 
 selves. Bjp.  Taylor. 
 
 DUTY— Courage  in. 
 
 The  following  particulars  of  courage  in 
 duty  despite  the  claims  of  paternal  affec- 
 tion, recently  occurred  in  Prussia,  and 
 •were  recorded  in  a  Berlin  journal: — A 
 pointsman  was  at  the  junction  of  two  lines 
 of  railway,  his  lever  in  hand,  for  a  train 
 was  signalled.  The  engine  was  within  a 
 few  seconds  of  reaching  the  embankment 
 when  the  man,  on  turning  his  head,  per- 
 ceived his  little  boy  playing  on  the  rails  of 
 the  line  the  train  was  to  pass  over.  With 
 a  heroic  devotedness  to  his  duty,  the  un- 
 fortunate man  adopted  a  sublime  resolu- 
 tion. "  Lie  down,"  he  shouted  out  to  the 
 child,  but  as  to  himself  he  remained  at  his 
 post.  The  train  passed  along  on  its  way, 
 and  the  lives  of  one  hundred  passengers 
 were,  perhaps,  saved.  But  the  poor  child  ! 
 The  father  rushed  forward  expecting  to 
 take  up  only  a  corpse,  but  what  was  his 
 joy  on  finding  that  the  boy  had  at  once 
 obeyed  his  order !  He  had  lain  down,  and 
 the  whole  train  had  passed  over  him  with- 
 out injury.  The  next  day  the  king  sent 
 for  the  man,  and  attached  to  his  breast  the 
 medal  for  civil  courage.  John  Bate. 
 
 DUTY— No  Excess  of. 
 
 God  has  not  commanded  us  to  do  more 
 than  we  ought  to  do,  and  hence  after  we 
 have  done  all  that  He  has  commanded,  we 
 are  unprofitable  servants,  only  having  done 
 our  simple  duty.  If  it  were  possible  for 
 ns  to  do  more  than  He  has  commanded. 
 He  would  give  us  credit  for  it ;  for  He  is 
 a  just  God.  But,  alas !  our  tendency  is 
 not  to  exceed  duty,  but  to  keep  beloiv  it. 
 Where  there  is  one  that  barely  reaches 
 the  exact  mark  of  duty,  and  this  only  by 
 Divine  help,  there  are  millions  that  do  not 
 half  fill  up  the  sphere  of  duty  as  marked 
 for  them  by  the  hand  of  infinite  wisdom 
 and  mercy.  Ibid. 
 
 DUTY— Excuse  from. 
 
 When  Palamedes  came  to  Ithaca,  to 
 invite  Ulysses  to  join  in  the  expedition 
 against  Troy,  the  latter,  unwilling  to  en- 
 gage in  the  undertaking,  betook  himself  to 
 ploughing  the  sand  and  sowing  salt,  on  the 
 pretence  of  being  visited  with  insanity. 
 There  are  multitudes  as  insane  as  Ulysses, 
 who  betake  themselves  to  works  as  insane, 
 and  all  in  the  way  of  pretence  to  excuse 
 themselves  from  the  duties  to  which  God 
 calls  them.  Anon. 
 
 DUTY— Happiness  of. 
 
 To  some,  duty,  like  law,  seems  a  cheer- 
 less and  rayless  thing.  The  sun  thinks 
 not  thus,  when  he  "  rejoiceth  as  a  bride- 
 groom coming  out  of  his  chamber,  or  a 
 strong  man  to  run  a  race."  There  is  a 
 sunny  joy  in  the  motion,  the  life  of  all 
 creatures,  which  to  the  tuned  and  atten- 
 tive ear  is  music — which  is  but  the  hum 
 of  duty  in  the  acting.  The  song  of  the 
 creation  is  the  hymn  of  duty.  Every  bird 
 that  sings,  every  bee  that  hums,  every 
 flower  that  lifts  its  tremulous  voice  of 
 praise  to  Him  who  has  made  so  good  a 
 world,  every  star 
 
 "  Which  in  its  motion  like  an  angel  sings 
 Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubins," 
 bears  its  part  in  the  great  flood  of  harmony 
 which  floats  the  tributes  of  the  duty  of 
 creation  before  the  eternal  throne.  For 
 man,  duty  in  the  doing  is  glory  in  the  win- 
 ning. "To  them  who  by  patient  con- 
 tinuance in  well-doing" — the  complete 
 picture  of  duty  — "  seek  glory,  honour,  and 
 immortality,  eternal  life."       J.  B.  Brotvn. 
 
 DUTY— Performance  of. 
 
 My  duties  are  then  upright  with  God, 
 when  they  turn  me  into  the  very  nature 
 of  themselves.  It  was  St.  Hierom's  praise 
 of  Nepolitan,  that  by  his  reading,  and 
 daily  meditation,  he  made  his  breast  the 
 very  library  of  Christ.  This  is  the  praise  of 
 a  Christian,  when  he  shall  so  hear,  that  the 
 word  abideth  in  him  ;  that  it  is,  as  it  were, 
 incorporated  into  him ;  when  he  shall  so 
 read,  as  that  he  shall  make  himself  a  living 
 epistle,  so  that  the  world  may  reap  or  gain 
 in  his  life,  what  he  hath  read  before  in  the 
 world ;  when  he  shall  so  bless  God,  as  to 
 make  himself  His  praise  ;  when  he  shall  so 
 pray,  as  that  every  petition  shall,  as  so 
 many  living  veins,  run  through  his  prac- 
 tice ;  when  his  duties  shall  be  the  fire,  and 
 his  life  the  incense  ;  this  is  the  only  sweet 
 acceptable  sacrifice ;  till  worship  is  distilled 
 into  practice,  it  is  but  an  empty  cloud  ;  till 
 duties  are  vital  in  our  walkings,  they  are 
 but  dead  performances.  Lord,  therefore, 
 let  my  duties  receive  life  from  Thy  spirit 
 and  let  my  waUcings  receive  life  from  those 
 duties.  Anon 
 
278 
 
 DUTY— Rewarded. 
 
 The  late  Duke  of  Wellington  was  very 
 fond  of  field  sports,  and  on  one  occasion  a 
 farmer's  boy  was  ordered  to  keep  a  certain 
 gate  shut  in  order  to  prevent  the  many 
 hunters  who  went  that  way  from  trampling 
 down  his  master's  crops.  After  he  had 
 been  at  the  gate  a  short  time,  a  gentleman 
 came  up  and  asked  him  to  open  it.  "  No," 
 said  the  lad ;  "  I  was  placed  here  to  keep  it 
 shut."  The  gentleman  became  indignant 
 and  expostulated  with  the  boy,  remarking, 
 "  Don't  you  know  who  I  am  ?  I  am  the 
 Duke  of  Wellington."  The  lad  said  he 
 did  not  mind  who  he  was,  upon  which  the 
 duke  praised  him  for  his  firmness,  and  gave 
 him  half  a  sovereign.  Away  ran  the  boy, 
 skipping  across  the  field,  and  shouting  to 
 every  one  whom  he  met,  "  Ah,  I  done  more 
 than  what  Bony  could  do ;  I  have  stopped 
 the  Duke  of  Wellington !"  Anon. 
 
 DUTY— Sense  of. 
 
 You  may  think  a  sense  of  duty  a  very 
 cold  and  uninviting  thing.  But  only  try  it, 
 and  you  will  be  astonished  to  find  how  it 
 will  evoke  and  sustain  ardour.  England  not 
 long  since  lost  her  greatest  hero.  Full  of 
 years  and  honours,  Wellington  went  down 
 to  his  grave.  A  nation  mourned  him.  They 
 mourned  him  because  he  had  done  so  much 
 and  done  it  so  bravely  and  well  for  his 
 country.  He  had  faced  perils  by  sea  and 
 by  land.  He  had  borne  summer  heat,  and 
 winter  cold.  He  had  stood  in  "the  immi- 
 nent deadly  breach,"  and  lifted  up  an  un- 
 shrinking front  when  the  air  was  blackened 
 with  fiery  shot  and  bursting  shell.  He 
 had  trodden  down  his  country's  foes,  and 
 driven  her  would-be  invader  into  dreary 
 exile.  He  had  maintained  her  cause  against 
 foreign  treachery,  and  dofncstic  anarchy. 
 Well,  what  was  it  that  upheld  this  man 
 through  his  wondrous  career  ?  What  mighty 
 motive  lay  at  the  root  of  his  stern,  but  un- 
 impeachable fidelity  ?  Why,  that  same  cold 
 and  uninviting  thing — as  you  deem  it — a 
 sense  of  duty.  Duty  was  his  watchword. 
 Duty  to  a  human  master — to  a  king — a 
 ruler.  He  never  boasted  higher  motive — 
 perhaps  never  thought  of  it.  If  then  duty 
 to  an  earthly  superior  can  operate  so  pow- 
 erfully, and  evoke  such  steady,  cheerful 
 life-long  endurance,  what  may  it  be  sup- 
 posed, when  properly  realized,  a  sense  of 
 duty  to  God  will  do  ?  C.  M.  Merry. 
 
 DUTY— Strength  for. 
 
 How  often  hast  thou  found  thyself  at  the 
 entrance  into  a  duty  becalmed,  as  a  ship 
 which  at  first  setting  sail  hath  hardly  wind 
 to  swell  its  sails,  while  under  the  shore  aiid 
 shadow  of  the  trees,  but  meets  a  fresh  gale 
 of  wind  when  got  into  the  open  sea  ?  Yea, 
 didst  thou  never  launch  out  to  duty  as  the 
 
 DUTY— DUTY  AND  SELF-DENIAL. 
 
 Apostles  to  sea  with  the  wind  in  thy  face  as 
 if  the  Spirit  of  God,  instead  of  helping  thee 
 on,  meant  to  drive  thee  back,  and  yet  hast 
 found  Christ  walking  to  thee  before  the 
 duty  was  done,  and  a  prosperous  voyage 
 made  of  it  at  last  ?  Abraham  saw  not  the 
 ram  which  God  had  provided  for  his  sacri- 
 fice till  he  was  in  the  mount.  In  the  mount 
 of  prayer  God  is  seen,  even  when  the 
 Christian  does  often  go  up  the  hill  towards 
 duty  with  a  heavy  heart,  because  he  can  as 
 yet  have  no  sight  of  Him.  Turn  not,  there- 
 fore, back  but  go  on  with  courage — He  may 
 be  nearer  than  thou  thinkest.  "  In  that 
 same  hour,"  saith  Christ,  "  it  shall  be  given 
 unto  you."  Ghiriiall. 
 
 DUTY  AND  DEATH. 
 
 It  was  while  standing  on  the  poop  of  his 
 vessel  amid  the  heat  and  the  fire  of  severer 
 combat,  that  Nelson  received  his  mortal 
 wound ;  and  on  being  afterwards  assured 
 that  the  day  was  in  favour  of  his  country's 
 flag,  he  breathed  out  his  spirit  with  the 
 words  on  his  lips,  "  Thank  God !  I  have 
 done  my  duty  !"  It  is  to  him  who  is  faith- 
 ful unto  death,  that  there  is  held  out  the 
 crown  of  glory.  Dr.  Ferguson. 
 
 DUTY  AND  INCLINATION. 
 
 We  all  love  to  pluck  the  fairest  fruit, 
 and  to  gather  ihe  sweetest  flowers;  but 
 put  this  down  as  a  truth  worthy  to  be 
 graven  on  a  pillar  of  brass, —  that  more  en- 
 joyable fruit  grows  by  the  wayside  of  the 
 path  of  duty,  than  in  all  the  wilderness  of 
 wilful  inclination.  Anon. 
 
 DUTY  AND  OBLIGATION. 
 
 All  duty  depends  upon  moral  olUgation 
 which  subsists  between  man  and  man,  or 
 man  and  his  Maker;  in  this  abstract  sense, 
 therefore,  there  can  be  no  diUy  without  a 
 previous  obligation,  and  where  there  is  an 
 olJigation  it  involves  a  dittg ;  but  in  the 
 vulgar  acceptation,  duty  is  applicable  to 
 the  conduct  of  men  in  their  various  rela- 
 tions  !  obligation  only  to  particular  circum- 
 stances or  modes  of  actions ;  we  have  duties 
 to  perform  as  parents  and  children,  as  hus- 
 bands and  wives,  as  rulers  and  subjects,  as 
 neighbours  and  citizens.  The  debtor  is 
 under  obligation  to  discharge  a  debt ;  and 
 he  who  has  promised  is  under  obligation 
 to  fulfil  his  promise  ;  a  conscientious  man, 
 therefore,  never  loses  sight  of  the  obliga- 
 tions which  he  has  at  diflferent  times  to 
 discharge.  O.  Crabb. 
 
 DUTY  AND  SELF-DENIAL. 
 
 There  is  a  beautiful  legend  illustrating 
 the  blessedness  of  performing  our  duty  at 
 whatever  cost  to  our  own  inclination.  A 
 beautiful  vision  of  our  Saviour  had  ap- 
 peared to  a  monk,  and  in  silent  bliss  he 
 was  gazing  upon  it.     The  hour  arrived  at 
 
DYING  WITH  CHRIST— DYING. 
 
 279 
 
 which  it  was  his  duty  to  feed  the  poor  of 
 the  convent.  He  lingered  not  in  his  cell 
 to  enjoy  the  vision,  bnt  left  it  to  perform 
 his  humble  duty.  When  he  returned,  he 
 found  the  blessed  vision  scil!  waiting  for 
 liim,  and  uttering  these  words,  "  Hadst 
 thou  staid,  I  must  have  fled."  ulnon. 
 
 DYING  WITH  CHRIST. 
 
 A  famous  captain  once  said  to  a  soldier 
 <3ying  with  him,  "  Hadst  thou  been  obscure 
 all  thy  life,  yet  art  thou  not  a  little  ho- 
 noured to-day,  in  dying  with  thy  master." 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 DYING— ContinuaUy. 
 
 We  are  continually  dying.  In  all  our 
 actions  force  is  given  off,  the  very  same 
 force  by  which  the  body  Hves  ;  and  portions 
 of  our  frame,  accordingly,  waste  and  are 
 cast  oft'.  This  process  implies  an  opposite 
 one.  The  life  constantly  ceasing,  is  con- 
 stantly renewed.  Throughout  the  a,dult 
 state  nutrition  proceeds  pari  passu  with 
 dei'ay  ;  in  youth  it  is  in  excess,  and  re- 
 sults in  growth  ;  in  age,  the  preponderance 
 of  the  decay  predicts  the  end.  But  new 
 life  springs  from  the  old,  and  in  its  oft- 
 spring  the  perishing  organism  repeats  and 
 multiplies  its  youth.  J.  Hintou. 
 
 DYING— Gain  of. 
 
 Throughout  the  Bible  it  is  declared  that 
 the  things  that  we  are  permitted  to  see  in 
 this  life  are  but  imitations,  glimpses  of 
 what  we  shall  see  hereafter.  "  It  doth  not 
 yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  "  There  are 
 times  when  it  seems  as  though  our  circum- 
 stances, our  nature,  all  the  processes  of  our 
 being,  conspired  to  make  us  joytul  here, 
 yet  the  apostle  says  we  now  see  through  a 
 glass  darkly.  What,  then,  must  be  the 
 vision  which  we  shall  behold  when  we  go 
 to  that  above  where  we  shall  see  face  to 
 face  !  What  a  land  of  glory  have  you  sent 
 your  babies  into  !  What  a  land  of  delight 
 have  you  sent  children  and  companions 
 into  !  What  a  land  of  blessedness  are  you 
 yourselves  coming  to  by-and-bye !  Men 
 talk  about  dying  as  though  it  was  going 
 toward  a  desolate  place.  All  the  past  in  a 
 man's  life  is  down  hill  and  toward  gloom, 
 and  all  the  future  in  a  man's  life  is  up  hill 
 and  toward  glorious  suurising.  There  is 
 but  one  luminous  point,  and  that  is  the 
 home  toward  which  we  are  tending,  above 
 all  storms,  above  all  sin  and  peril.  Dying 
 is  glorious  crowning ;  living  is  yet  toiling. 
 If  God  be  yours,  all  things  are  yours. 
 Live  while  you  must,  yet  yearn  for  the 
 day  of  consummation,  when  the  door  shall 
 be  thrown  open,  and  the  bird  may  fly  out 
 of  his  netted  cage,  and  be  heard  singing  in 
 higher  spheres  and  diviner  realms. 
 
 M.  W,  Beecher. 
 
 DYING— Gain  of. 
 
 Let  dissolution  come  when  it  will,  it 
 can  do  the  Christian  no  harm,  for  it  will 
 be  but  a  passage  out  of  a  prison  into  a 
 palace;  out  of  a  sea  of  troubles  into  a 
 haven  of  rest ;  out  of  a  crowd  of  enemies 
 to  an  innumerable  company  of  true,  loving, 
 and  faithful  friends;  out  of  shame,  re- 
 proach, and  contempt,  into  exceeding  great 
 and  eternal  glory.  Bunyan. 
 
 "  Paid  the  debt  of  nature."  No  ;  it  is 
 not  paying  a  debt — it  is  rather  like  bring- 
 ing a  note  to  a  bank  to  obtain  solid  gold 
 in  exchange  for  it.  In  this  case  you  bring 
 this  cumbrous  body,  which  is  nothing 
 worth,  and  which  you  could  not  wish  to 
 retain  long  ;  you  lay  it  down,  and  receive 
 for  it  from  the  eternal  treasures — liberty, 
 victory,  knowledge,  rapture.         J.  Foster. 
 
 Living  is  death ;  dying  is  life.  We  are 
 not  what  we  appear  to  be.  On  this  side 
 of  the  grave  we  are  exiles,  on  that  citizens ; 
 on  this  side  orphans,  on  that  children  ;  on 
 this  side  captives,  on  that  freemen  ;  on  this 
 side  disguised,  unknown,  on  that  disclosed 
 and  proclaimed  as  the  sons  of  God ! 
 
 E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 Death  to  the  saints  is  not  so  much  a 
 penalty  as  it  is  a  remedy .  It  delivers  them 
 up  and  lets  them  into  such  joys  as  eye 
 hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath 
 entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive. 
 Yea,  a  man  may  as  well,  with  a  coal  paint 
 out  the  sun  in  all  its  splendour,  as  with 
 his  pen  or  tongue  express,  or  with  his  heart 
 (were  it  deep  as  the  sea)  conceive  the  ful- 
 ness of  those  joys  and  sweetness  of  those 
 pleasures,  which  the  saints  shall  enjoy  at 
 God's  right  hand  for  evermore.  For  quality 
 they  are  pleasures ;  for  quantity,  fulness ; 
 for  dignity,  at  God's  right  hand ;  for  eter- 
 nity ;  for  evermore ;  and  millions  of  years 
 multiplied  by  millions  make  not  up  a  minute 
 to  this  eternity,  Younge. 
 
 "  0  when  will  death  (now  stingless),  like  a 
 
 friend, 
 Adndt  me  of  their  choir?     O  when  will 
 
 death, 
 This  mouldering,  old  partition-wall  throw 
 
 down. 
 Give  beings,  one  in  nature,  one  abode  ? 
 0  death    divine!    that   givest   us  to    the 
 
 skies ! 
 That  re-admit'st  us,  through  the  guardian 
 
 hands 
 Of  elder  brethren,  to  our  Father's  throne !" 
 
 "  Who,"  said  Tully,  a  heathen,  "  would 
 lament  the  death  of  a  friend,  unless  he 
 supposed  him  deprived  of  all  the  conifoi'ts 
 of  life,  and  sensible  of  the  loss  of  them  •" 
 Hov»"   much  more  may  a  Christian  forbear 
 
DYING— EARLY  RISING. 
 
 to  lament  the  death  of  those  who,  though 
 deprived  of  the  poor,  low  enjoyments  of 
 this  life,  are  so  far  from  being  sensible  of 
 having  suffered  any  loss  on  that  account, 
 that  they  perceive  themselves  to  be  infinite 
 gainers,  and  are  in  possession  of  a  felicity 
 and  glory  that  knows  neither  measure  nor 
 ei.d  J.  Benson. 
 
 DYING— Happiness  in. 
 
 "  How  hard  it  is  to  die !"  remarked  a 
 friend  to  an  expiring  believer.  "  0  no, 
 no !"  he  replied ;  "  easy  dying,  blessed 
 dying,  glorious  dying  !"  Looking  up  to 
 the  clock,  he  said,  "  I  have  experienced 
 more  happiness  in  dying  two  hours  this 
 day,  than  in  my  whole  life.  It  is  worth  a 
 whole  life  to  have  such  an  end  as  this.  O, 
 I  never  thought  that  such  a  poor  worm  as 
 I  could  come  to  such  a  glorious  death." 
 
 Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 DYING  EMPTY-HANDED. 
 
 Alexander  the  Great,  being  upon  his 
 death-bed,  commanded  that  when  he  was 
 carried  forth  to  his  grave  his  hands  should 
 not  be  wrapped,  as  was  usual,  in  cere- 
 cloths, but  should  be  left  outside  the  bier, 
 that  all  men  might  see  them,  and  might 
 see  that  they  were  empty. 
 
 Arclibishop  Trench. 
 
 DYING  AND  LIVING— Loneliness  in. 
 
 The  Redeemer's  soul  was  alone  in  dying. 
 The  hour  had  come — they  had  all  gone, 
 and  He  was,  as  He  predicted,  left  alone. 
 All  that  is  human  drops  from  us  in  that 
 hour.  Human  faces  flit  and  fade,  and  the 
 sounds  of  the  world  become  confused.  "  I 
 shall  die  alone" — yes,  and  alone  you  live. 
 The  philosopher  tells  us  that  no  atom  in 
 creation  touches  another  atom — they  only 
 approach  within  a  cei'tain  distance;  then 
 the  attraction  ceases  and  an  invisible  some- 
 thing repels — they  only  seem  to  touch.  No 
 goul  touches  another  soul  except  at  one  or 
 two  points ;  and  those  chiefly  external, — a 
 fearful  and  a  lonely  thought ;  but  one  of 
 the  truest  of  life.  Death  only  realises  that 
 which  has  been  fact  all  along.  In  the 
 central  deeps  of  our  being  we  are  alone. 
 
 >.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 DYING  WITHOUT  MERCY. 
 
 It  was  in  the  commencement  of  my 
 ministry,  writes  one,  that  I  was  requested 
 by  a  Christian  father  to  visit  his  eldest 
 son,  prostrated  by  sickness.  I  was  assured 
 that  the  feelings  of  the  son  were  very  sus- 
 ceptible to  religious  truth,  and  his  mind 
 much  exercised  concerning  his  condition  as 
 a  sinner.  I  called  to  see  him.  He  con- 
 versed quite  freely  and  unreservedly,  and 
 requested  prayer  to  be  offered  for  him. 
 His  sickness  terminated  fiivorably,  and  the 
 young  man  recovered,  without  giving  his 
 
 heart  to  Christ,  He  lived  more  indifferent 
 to  religious  truth  than  he  had  ever  done, 
 and  plunged  more  deeply  into  pleasure. 
 
 In  a  few  months  he  was  again  laid  low 
 by  a  now  mortal  disease.  Slowly  but 
 fatally  and  irresistibly  it  progressed,  pro- 
 ducing at  times  delirium.  This  time  it  was 
 impossible  to  interest  him  in  the  Gospel. 
 His  mother  was  in  tears  for  him.  .She 
 pressed  home  upon  his  conscience  the 
 claims  of  duty,  but  without  avail.  At  last, 
 a  few  hours  before  his  death,  he  broke  the 
 silence  which  he  had  kept, saying,  "Mother, 
 my  hour  is  past." 
 
 "Not  so,  my  son,"  she  replied;  "re- 
 member that  God  is  merciful." 
 
 "I  know  it,  I  know  it;  but,  mother, 
 God  is  aXsojust." 
 
 These  were  his  last  words.  And  so  he 
 closed  his  eyes  in  death,  without  hope  in 
 God's  mercy. 
 
 Reader,  if  ever  your  thoughts  and  feel- 
 ings become  interested  in  the  great  ques- 
 tion of  your  salvation,  let  not  that  favoured 
 moment  pass  away  and  leave  you  un- 
 blessed by  the  mercy  of  God.  Anon. 
 
 E. 
 EARLY  AGES— Peace  of  the. 
 
 This  vice  proceeds  from   greedy  thirst  of 
 
 gold. 
 For  wars  and  tumults  were  unknown  of 
 
 old. 
 When  cheerful  draughts  were  quaflf'd  from 
 
 common  wood, 
 And  beechen  bowls  on  homely  table  stood. 
 No  need  was  then  of  towers  their  wealth 
 
 to  keep ; 
 The  shepherd  slept  secure  amidst  his  sheep. 
 TibuUus. 
 
 EARLY  RISING. 
 
 Be  curious  to  know  of  what  colour  the 
 dawning  of  the  day  is;  prevent  the  light, 
 as  the  wise  man  adviseth,  to  praise  God. 
 Take  heed  of  imitating  that  epicurean 
 swine,  who  boasted  that  he  had  grown 
 old  without  seeing  the  sun  either  rise  or 
 set.  iV.  Caussin. 
 
 The  famous  Apollonius  being  very  early 
 at  Vespasian's  gate,  and  finding  him  stir- 
 ring,  from  thence  conjectured  that  he  was 
 worthy  to  govern  an  empire,  and  said  to 
 his  companion,  "  This  man  surely  will  be 
 emperor,  he  is  so  early."  Ibid. 
 
 EARLY  RISING— Benefits  of. 
 
 I  will  here  record  the  observation  which 
 I  have  found  of  great  use  to  myself,  and 
 to  which  I  may  say,  that  the  production 
 of  this  work  (the  '  Family  Expositor'),  and 
 most  of  my  other  writings,  is  owing,  viz., 
 that  the  ditferenv>e  between  rising  at  five. 
 
EARLY  RISING— EARNESTNESS. 
 
 281 
 
 and  at  seven  of  the  clock  in  the  morning, 
 for  the  space  of  forty  years,  supposing  a 
 man  to  go  to  bed  at  the  same  hour  at 
 night,  is  nearly  equivalent  to  the  addition 
 of  ten  years  to  a  man's  life,  of  which  (sup- 
 posing the  two  hours  in  question  to  be  so 
 spent)  eight  hours  every  day  should  be 
 employed  in  study  and  devotion. 
 
 Doddridge. 
 
 The  habit  of  early  rising  by  John  Wesley 
 is  known  by  almost  all.  For  ujDwards  of 
 fifty  years  he  regularly  rose  at  four  o'clock ; 
 and  when  eighty-two,  he  records  as  one 
 means  of  his  long  and  active  life — the  rising 
 at  four  in  the  morning.  John  Bate. 
 
 The  morning  hour  has  gold  in  its  mouth. 
 Franklin. 
 
 Few  ever  lived  to  a  great  age,  and  fewer 
 still  ever  became  distinguished,  who  were 
 not  in  the  habit  of  early  rising.  You  rise 
 late,  and,  of  course,  commence  your  busi- 
 ness at  a  late  hour,  and  everything  goes 
 wrong  all  day.  Franklin  says  that  "  he 
 who  rises  late  may  trot  all  day,  and  not 
 have  overtaken  his  business  at  night." 
 Dean  Swift  avers  that  he  never  knew  any 
 man  come  to  greatness  and  eminence  who 
 lay  in  bed  of  a  morning.  Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 EARLY  RISING— Example  of. 
 
 And  Joshua  rose  early  in  the  morning ; 
 and  they  removed  from  Shittim  (Josh, 
 iii,  1).  And  Joshua  rose  early  in  the 
 morning,  and  the  priests  took  up  the  ark 
 of  the  Lord  (Josh,  vi,  12).  And  Joshua 
 rose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  brought 
 Israel  by  their  tribes  (Josh,  vii,  16).  And 
 Joshua  rose  up  early  in  the  morning  and 
 numbered  the  people,  and  went  up,  he  and 
 the  elders  of  Israel,  before  Ai  (Josh,  viii, 
 10).  This  intimates  how  little  he  loved  his 
 ease,  how  much  he  loved  his  business,  and 
 what  care  and  pains  he  was  willing  to  take 
 in  it.  Those  who  would  bring  great  things 
 to  pass  must  rise  early.  Love  not  sleep, 
 lest  thou  come  to  poverty.  M.  Henry. 
 
 EARLY  RISING— Motives  to. 
 
 Falsely  luxurious,  will  not  man  awake ; 
 And  springing  from  the  bed  of  sloth,  enjoy 
 The  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour. 
 To  meditation  due  and  sacred  song  ? 
 For  is  there  aught  in  sleep  can  charm  the 
 
 wise? 
 To  lie  in  dead  oblivion,  losing  half 
 The  fleeting  moments  of  too  short  a  life; 
 Total  extinction  of  the  enlighten'd  soul ! 
 Or  else  to  feverish  vanity  alive, 
 Wilder'd  and  tossing  through  distemper'd 
 
 dreams ! 
 
 Who  would  in  such  a  gloomy  state  remain 
 Longer   than   nature  craves,  when  every 
 
 muse 
 And  every  blooming  pleasure  wait  without, 
 To  bless  the  wildly-devious  morning  walk  ? 
 Thomson. 
 
 EARNESTNESS— Definition  of. 
 
 It  is  all-heartedness.  The  difference  be- 
 tween  an  earnest  man  and  others  is  just 
 this,  that  while  they  do  things  coldly,  per- 
 functorily, without  interest,  because  they 
 have  to  be  done,  and  for  no  other  reason, 
 he  puts  his  whole  soul  into  his  labour,  does 
 it  with  hearty  good  will,  with  a  vigorous, 
 healthy  zeal,  and  because  he  loves  to  do  it. 
 C.  M.  Merry. 
 EARNESTNESS— Effects  of. 
 
 A  peasant's  family  were  seated  in  their 
 cottage  when  the  thatch  on  the  roof  was  in 
 flames,  and  not  knowing  of  the  accident, 
 their  lives  were  in  great  danger.  A  man 
 of  slow  habits,  a  spinner  in  speech,  went  in 
 to  them  to  explain  the  accident,  and  to 
 point  out  the  necessity  of  providing  for 
 their  safety  ;  but  while  he  was  in  the 
 middle  of  his  long-winded  observations, 
 another  man  rushed  in,  concentrating  all 
 he  had  to  say  in  a  single  word.  "Fire! 
 fire!"  cried  he,  when  the  alarmed  throng 
 immediately  started  up,  and  hurrying 
 through  the  cottage-door,  escaped  the 
 danger.  O.  Mogridge. 
 
 EARNESTNESS— Examples  of. 
 
 When  Dr.  Chalmers  occupied  the  chair 
 of  philosophy  in  the  College  of  St.  Andrews, 
 he  used  to  gather  into  his  own  house,  each 
 Sabbath  evening,  the  poorest  and  most 
 ignorant  of  the  vagrant  children  of  the 
 neighbourhood;  and  his  biography  states 
 that,  for  that  audience,  he  prepared  him- 
 self  as  carefully,  with  his  pen  in  his  hand, 
 as  for  his  class  in  the  University.  So,  on 
 a  winter  day,  through  frost,  and  in  the 
 face  of  a  driving  snow-storm,  you  might 
 have  seen  him  walking  five  miles  to  fulfil 
 an  appointment  of  religious  worship  with 
 a  little  company  of  rustic  people  at  Kil- 
 many  —  and  there,  amid  some  illiterate, 
 shivering  cottagers,  too  few  for  a  cliuich 
 or  chapel,  met  in  a  damp  room — an  audience 
 that  many  men  would  have  thought  it  ex- 
 pedient to  dismiss  at  once,  "  on  account  of 
 the  weather,"  and  many  more  would  have 
 put  ofl'  with  some  crude,  unpremeditated 
 talk — he  preached  as  laboured  and  as  elo- 
 quent a  sermon  as  would  have  moved  to 
 rapture  and  wonder  the  learning  and 
 fashion  of  Glasgow  or  of  London.  It  is 
 only  of  such  earnest  stufl'  as  this  that  the 
 truly  commanding  persons  in  any  of  the 
 elevated  ranges  of  action  or  of  learning 
 are  made.  Anon. 
 
 We  read  that  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon 
 
EARNESTNESS— EARTH. 
 
 kept  the  picture  of  Henry  Martyn  in  his 
 study.  Move  where  he  would  through  the 
 apartment,  it  seemed  to  keep  its  eyes  upon 
 him,  and  ever  to  say  to  him,  "  Be  earnest, 
 be  earnest;  don't  trifle,  don't  trifle;"  and 
 the  good  Simeon  would  gently  bow  to  the 
 speaking  picture,  and  with  a  smile,  reply, 
 "  Yes,  I  will  be  in  earnest ;  I  will,  I  will 
 be  in  earnest ;  I  will  not  trifle,  for_  souls 
 are  perishing,  and  Jesus  is  to  be  glorified." 
 Oh,  Christian,  look  away  to  Martyn's 
 Master,  to  Simeon's  Saviour,  to  the  om- 
 niscient One.  Ever  realise  the  inspection 
 of  His  eye,  and  hear  His  voice  of  tenderest 
 importunity,  "  Be  instant ;  entreat  with  all 
 long-sufi'ering  and  tears.  Be  faithful  unto 
 death ;  for  lo,  I  come  quickly,  and  my  re- 
 ward is  with  me."  S.  J.  Moore. 
 
 Do  we  want  examples  of  holy  earnest- 
 ness—  earnestness  calmly  surveying  the 
 path  of  duty,  and  then,  with  the  full 
 knowledge  of  all  its  roughnesses,  diflicul- 
 ties,  and  trials,  cheerfully  hastening  along 
 it  ?  Turning  over  the  pages  of  the  Old 
 Testament,  we  light  on  the  name  of  a 
 Koah — an  Abraham — a  Moses — a  David — 
 a  Hezekiah— an  Elijah— and  a  Daniel,  all 
 of  whom,  in  their  day,  wrought  deeds  of 
 godly  prowess  in  the  service  of  their  Lord. 
 Then  coming  to  the  New  Testament, 
 among  many  others  of  lesser  note,  we  find 
 one  pre-eminent  example  of  burning  zeal, 
 in  that  man  of  unrivalled  piety  and  un- 
 precedented labours,  the  Apostle  Paul. 
 What  earnestness  was  his !  How  it  made 
 him  smile  at  reproach— scorn  suffering, 
 and  welcome  death !  But  oh  !  even  his 
 name  is  eclipsed  by  that  of  another— the 
 God-man  Jesus.  He  only  could  say,  of 
 all  that  ever  lived.  "The  zeal  of  Thine 
 house  hath  eaten  me  up.  My  earnestness 
 has  preyed  upon  my  vitals  like  a  consuming 
 flame!"  Beloved  friends,  here,  then,  are 
 our  models.  Christ  first — after  Him,  those 
 who  come  nearest  to  Him.       C.  M.  Merry. 
 
 EARNESTNESS— Fruits  of. 
 
 Do  you  wish  to  become  rich  ?  You  may 
 become  rich  :  that  is,  if  you  desire  it  in  no 
 half-way,  but  thoroughly.  A  miser  sacri- 
 fices all  to  his  single  passion  ;  hoards  farth- 
 ings  and  dies  possessed  of  wealth.  Do 
 you  wish  to  master  any  science  or  accom- 
 plishment? Give  yourself  to  it,  and  it 
 lies  beneath  your  feet.  Time  and  pains 
 will  do  anything.  This  world  is  given  as 
 the  prize  for  the  men  in  earnest ;  and  that 
 which  is  true  of  this  world  is  truer  still  of 
 the  world  to  come.  "  The  kingdom  of 
 heaven  suflereth  violence,  and  the  violent 
 take  it  by  force."  Only  there  is  this  dif 
 ference.  In  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  know- 
 ledge, or  reputation,  circumstances  have 
 power  to  mar  the  wisest  schemes.  The 
 hoard  of  years  may  be  lost  in   a   single 
 
 night.  The  wisdom  hived  up  by  a  whole 
 life  may  perish  when  some  fever  impairs 
 memory.  But  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
 where  inward  character  is  the  prize,  no 
 chance  can  rob  earnestness  of  its  exactly 
 proportioned  due  of  success.  "  Whatsoever 
 a  man  soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap." 
 There  is  no  blight,  nor  mildew,  nor  scorch- 
 ing sun,  nor  rain  deluge  which  can  turn 
 that  harvest  into  a  failure.  "  Lay  not  up 
 for  yourselves  treasures  on  earth."  .... 
 Sow  for  time,  and  prohabh/  you  will 
 succeed  in  time.  Sow  the  seeds  of  life — 
 humbleness,  pm-e-heartedness,  love ;  and 
 in  the  long  eternity  which  lies  before  the 
 soul,  every  minutest  grain  will  come  up 
 again  with  an  increase  of  thirty,  sixty,  or 
 an  hundredfold.  F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 
 EARTH— Extent  of  the. 
 
 It  is  found  that  its  diameter  is  equal  to 
 7,925  miles  in  length;  circumference, 
 25,020;  superficies,  "198,944,206  square 
 miles  ;  solidity,  26,393,000,000  cubic  miles. 
 It  is  also  imagined  that  the  unexplored 
 portion  of  the  earth  and  seas  contain 
 160,522,026  square  miles ;  and  the  in- 
 habited part  of  the  earth  is  equal  to 
 39,222,180,  in  the  following  proportions; 
 viz.,  in  Europe,  4,456,065;  in  Asia, 
 10,968,423;  in  Africa,  9,654,817;  in 
 America,  14,142,875.  Timbs. 
 
 EARTH— a  Gift  to  Man. 
 
 The  Psalmist  says  of  God,  "The  earth 
 bath  He  given  uuto  the  children  of  men." 
 Truly  they  are  making  use  of  the  gift. 
 Body,  soul,  and  spirit;  learning,  genius, 
 pliilosophy,  science,  are  laid  under  contri- 
 bution to  help  man  in  his  use  of  the  earth. 
 One  part  of  the  earth  is  rendered  subser- 
 vient to  another,  to  accomplish  his  aim. 
 How  long  man  has  been  using  the  gift,  and 
 yet  it  shows  no  signs  of  being  worn  out. 
 What  tasks  he  imposes  upon  the  earth ; 
 what  demands  he  makes  upon  it ;  what 
 draughts  he  takes  from  its  resources ;  and 
 yet  the  earth  contains  as  much  as  ever. 
 What  wants  of  an  earthly  nature  may  not 
 man  supply  from  the  earth  ?  And  should 
 his  wants  increase  a  thousandfold,  he  would 
 still  find  a  sup])ly.  What  a  magnificent, 
 gracious  gift  is  this  to  man  !  Should  he  no*^ 
 think  of  the  Giver,  and  thank  Him  ?  But 
 a  greater  gift  of  God  to  man,  and  his  pro- 
 perty through  faith,  is  the  Lord  Jesus 
 Christ.  John  Bate. 
 
 EARTH— The  Glory  of. 
 
 A  poor  landlord  thinks  it  a  lasting 
 honour  to  his  cottage  that  he  has  once 
 lodged  a  prince  or  emperor;  with  how 
 much  more  reason  may  our  poor  cottage 
 this  earth  be  proud  of  it,  that  the  Lord  of 
 glory  was  its  tenant  from  His  birth  to  His 
 
EAETE— EARTHLY  LIPE. 
 
 283 
 
 death  ?  yea,  that  He  rejoiced  in  the  habit- 
 able parts  of  it,  before  it  had  a  beginning, 
 even  from  everlasting  ?  (Prov.  viii,  31.) 
 
 J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 It  IS  the  glory  of  the  world  that  He  who 
 formed  it  dwelt  on  it;  of  the  air,  that  He 
 breathed  it ;  of  the  sun,  that  it  shone  on 
 Him  ;  of  the  ground,  that  it  bore  Him  ;  of 
 the  sea,  that  He  walked  on  it ;  of  the  ele- 
 ments, that  they  nourished  Him;  of  the 
 waters,  that  they  refreshed  Him ;  of  us 
 men,  that  He  lived  and  died  among  us,  yea, 
 that  He  lived  and  died  for  us  ;  that  He  as- 
 sumed our  flesh  and  blood,  and  carried  it  to 
 the  highest  heavens  ;  where  it  shines  as  the 
 eternal  ornament  and  wonder  of  the  crea- 
 tion of  God.  Ihid. 
 
 EARTH— Magnitude  of  the. 
 
 The  circumference  of  the  globe  is  twenty- 
 five  thousand  and  twenty  miles.  It  is  not 
 so  easy  to  comprehend  so  stupendous  a 
 circle  as  to  put  down  its  extent  in  figures. 
 It  becomes  more  palpable,  perhaps,  by  com- 
 parison, such  as  this  :  A  railway  train,  tra- 
 velling incessantly,  night  and  day,  at  the 
 rate  of  twenty-five  miles  an  hour,  would 
 require  six  weeks  to  go  round  it.  The  cu- 
 bical bulk  of  the  earth  is  two  hundred  and 
 sixty  thousand  millions  of  cubic  miles.  Dr. 
 Lardner  says :  "  If  the  materials  which 
 form  the  globe  were  built  up  in  the  form 
 of  a  column,  having  a  pedestal  of  the  mag- 
 nitude of  England  and  Wales,  the  height 
 of  the  column  would  be  nearly  four  and  a 
 half  millions  of  millions  of  miles.  A  tun- 
 nel through  the  earth  from  England  to 
 New  Zealand  would  be  nearly  eight  thou- 
 sand miles  long."  Tinihs. 
 
 EARTH— Nature  of  the. 
 
 Its  polar  and  equatorial  diameters  differ 
 by  only  twenty-six-and-a-half  miles;  and 
 the  greater  of  the  two — the  equatorial 
 — is  7925  miles.  Hence  our  excavations 
 are  mere  scratches  of  the  exterior  only ; 
 for  our  deepest  mines  have  never  pene- 
 trated lower  than  to  the  ten-thousandth 
 part  of  the  distance  between  the  earth's 
 surface  and  its  centre.  As  far  as  scientific 
 rest-arches  enable  us  to  conjecture,  we 
 sliould  conclude  that  when  ovr  earth  was 
 Jirst  set  in  motion  it  must  have  been  some- 
 what soft,  in  order  to  have  produced  its 
 ■jii-esent  undoubted  spheroidal  form.  Eut 
 ivhat  is  tlie  real  nature  of  the  earth's  in- 
 terior? Transcendental  mathematics  fully 
 recognise  the  principle  of  interfluidity  or 
 fusion ;  while  all  actual  observations  point 
 to  the  existence  of  heat  in  a  greater  degree, 
 tiie  lower  we  go.  M.  Humbolt,  indeed, 
 tflls  us  that  at  only  thirty-five  miles'  dis- 
 tance from  the  earth's  surface,  "  the  central 
 heat  is  everywhere  so  great,  that  granite 
 itself  is  held  infusion.  Ibid. 
 
 EARTH— our  Nursing  Mother. 
 
 It  is  this  earth  that,  like  a  kind 
 mother,  receives  us  at  our  birth,  and  sus- 
 tains us  when  born ;  it  is  this  alone,  of  all 
 the  elements  around  us.  that  is  never  found 
 an  enemy  to  man.  The  body  of  waters 
 deluge  him  with  rain,  oppress  him  with 
 hail,  and  drown  him  with  inundations ;  the 
 air  rushes  in  storms,  prefaces  the  tempest 
 or  lights  up  the  volcanoes  ;  but  the  earth, 
 gentle  and  indulgent,  ever  subservient  to 
 the  wants  of  man,  spreads  his  walk  with 
 flowers,  and  his  table  with  plenty ;  returns 
 with  interest  every  good  committed  to  her 
 care,  and  though  she  supplies  the  poison 
 she  still  supplies  the  antidote ;  though 
 constantly  teased,  more  to  furnish  the 
 luxuries  of  man  than  his  necessities,  yet, 
 even  to  the  last,  she  continues  her  kind  in- 
 dulgence, and  when  life  is  over,  she  piously 
 covers  his  remains  in  her  bosom.         Flint/. 
 
 EARTH— Surface  of  the. 
 
 The  inequalities  on  the  earth's  surface 
 arising  from  mountains,  valleys,  buildings, 
 &c.,  have  been  likened  to  the  roughness  on 
 the  rind  of  an  orange,  compared  with  its 
 general  mass  ;  and  the  comparison  is  quite 
 free  from  exaggeration.  The  highest 
 mountain  known  does  not  exceed  five  miles 
 in  perpendicular  elevation.  This  is  only 
 l-1600th  part  of  the  earth's  diameter; 
 consequently,  on  a  globe  sixteen  inches  in 
 diameter,  such  a  mountain  would  be  repre- 
 sented by  a  protuberance  of  not  more  than 
 one-hundredth  part  of  an  inch,  which  is 
 about  the  thickness  of  ordiniiry  drawing- 
 paper.  Now,  as  there  is  no  entire  conti- 
 nent, or  even  any  very  extensive  tract  of 
 land,  known,  where  the  general  elevation 
 above  the  seas  is  anything  like  half  this 
 quantity,  it  follows,  that  if  we  would  con- 
 struct  a  correct  model  of  our  earth,  with 
 its  seas,  continents,  and  mountains,  on  a 
 globe  sixteen  inches  in  diameter,  the  whole 
 of  the  land,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
 prominent  points  and  ridges,  must  be  com- 
 prised on  it  within  the  thickness  of  thin 
 writing-paper  ;  and  the  highest  hill  would 
 be  represented  by  the  smallest  visible  grain 
 of  sand.  Sir  John  Rerschel. 
 
 EARTHLY  LIEE— not  Enough  for  the  Soul. 
 It  is  narrow,  too  narrow,  for  the  soul  to 
 live  in  and  grow  up.  A  man  can  live  in  a 
 prison,  or  in  a  coal-pit,  but  he  has  not  been 
 made  for  that.  God  has  given  to  man  the 
 wide  earth  and  the  open  sky.  A  soul  can 
 live  a  kind  of  dying  life  within  the  range 
 of  these  visible  things.  But  how  then  will 
 you  nourish  its  veneration  ?  How  will 
 you  satisfy  its  love  ?  How  will  you  guide 
 its  aspirations  ?  How  will  you  nurture  its 
 nobleness  ?  What  will  you  do  with  the 
 burning  flame  of  its  immortality,  with  its 
 
284 
 
 EAETHLY  THINGS— ECONOMY  IN  EXPENDITUEE. 
 
 awful  consciousness  and  grand  capacity  of 
 God  ?  Must  all  these  be  ofl'ered  in  sacrifice 
 to  the  Moloch  of  this  world  ?  Must  the 
 living  soul  be  thus  degraded  and  kept 
 inider  the  power  of  the  usurping  senses  ? 
 Must  a  man  pi-oclaim  himself  to  be  only  a 
 superior  brute  ?  O  !  this  life  is  too  nar- 
 row, too  narrow  !  Let  the  soul  rise,  as  did 
 Samson,  bound,  yet  still  supernaturally 
 sti-ong,  and  snap  the  cords,  and  brush 
 away  the  webs  and  filaments  of  such  de- 
 lusion, that  there  may  be  freedom  and 
 growth  upwards  into  the  everlasting  life  ! 
 A.  Raleigh. 
 
 EAETKLY  THINGS— Instability  of. 
 
 Yes,  it  is  all  a  masquerade  of  the  same 
 everlasting  events  wearing  new  vizors  ;  it 
 is  all  mutation  without  novelty,  and  a 
 change  without  real  variety.  The  world 
 itself  is  a  gourd  whose  root  the  worm  is 
 already  gnawing — a  place  whose  quick- 
 sand basis  the  flood  is  already  sapping. 
 
 What  is  the  passing  scene  ? 
 
 A  peevish  April  day  ! 
 A  little  sun,  a  little  rain. 
 And  then  night  sweeps  along  the  plain, 
 
 And  all  things  fade  away. 
 
 'E.  K.  White. 
 
 EAETHLY  THINGS— Transitoriness  of. 
 
 Like  the  bubble  that  is  blown,  and  that 
 when  the  rays  of  light  fall  on  it,  glitters 
 in  all  the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  but 
 whilst  we  gaze  bursts  and  is  no  more — 
 like  the  gourd,  which  casts  its  cooling  shade 
 against  the  vehement  noontide  heat,  but, 
 ere  the  next  day's  sun  has  utterly  withered 
 away — like  the  flower,  that  blooms  and 
 sheds  its  fragrance  in  the  morning,  but  in 
 the  evening  its  beauty  and  its  odour  are 
 gone — like  the  shadoio  that  flings  itself  for 
 a  moment  across  our  path  and  then  declin- 
 eth— like  a  vapour  that  appeareth  and  is 
 quickly  dissipated,  and  we  see  it  no  more — 
 so  rapidly  the  things  that  are  beneath  con- 
 sume and  flee  away.  O  "what  shadows 
 we  are,  and  what  shadows  we  pursue." 
 No  !  shadows  tve  are  not,  "  though  shadows 
 we  pursue."  O  let  us  elevate  our  thoughts 
 from  time  to  eternity,  and  transfer  our 
 afiections  from  earth  to  heaven. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 EAETHLY  THINGS— Unsatisfying. 
 
 If  the  things  among  which  we  grovel 
 for  the  food  and  light  of  our  imperishable 
 nature  had  a  mouth  and  a  tongue,  and 
 could  speak  to  us,  they  would  say,  "  Why 
 look  ye  so  earnestly  on  us  ?"  as  though  we 
 could  satisfy  your  immortal  cravings.  Are 
 we  in  God's  stead — in  Christ's  place — in 
 heaven's  room  ?  Look  not  on  us, — we  are 
 but  things  seen  and  temporal.  As  well 
 might  the  chemist  look  for  the  philoso- 
 
 pher's stone  among  the  dust  of  the  streets, 
 or  hope  to  elaborate  the  elixir  vitse  from 
 the  polluted  water  of  a  stagnant  lake,  as 
 we  expect  to  find  among  the  things  below 
 the  bliss  of  our  undying  spirits.  God 
 never  put  it  into  them  ;  and  nothing  can 
 be  to  us  more  than  God  intended  it.  In 
 our  pursuit  of  the  things  of  this  world  as 
 our  chief  good,  we  are  following  after 
 vanity,  hunting  a  shadow,  pursuing  a  fal- 
 lacy. And  why  should  we  bestov/  our 
 thoughts,  our  desires,  our  longings,  and 
 affections,  upon  these  unreal  and  fallacious, 
 low  and  mean  things,  when  there  are  in- 
 comparably better  objects  to  fix  them 
 upon  ?  Ibid. 
 
 ECONOMY— Definition  of. 
 
 A  sound  economy  is  a  sound  understand- 
 ing brought  into  action.  It  is  calculation 
 realised.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  proportion 
 reduced  to  practice.  It  is  foreseeing  con- 
 tingencies, and  providing  against  them. 
 It  is  expecting  contingencies  and  being 
 prepared  for  them.  Hannah  More. 
 
 ECONOMY  IN  EXPENDITUEE. 
 
 In  expenses  I  would  be  neither  pinching 
 nor  prodigal;  yet,  if  my  means  allow  it 
 not,  rather  thought  too  sparing  than  a 
 little  profuse.  Saving  inclines  to  judg- 
 ment, but  lavish  expenses  to  levity  and  in- 
 considerateness.  With  the  wise  'tis  no 
 disgrace  to  make  a  man's  ability  his  com- 
 pass of  sail  and  line  to  walk  by ;  and  to 
 exceed  it,  for  them  that  are  not  wise,  is  to 
 be  sure  to  exceed  them  as  well  in  folly  as 
 expense.  He  is  equally  i-idiculous  that  will 
 burn  out  his  taper  while  the  sun  doth 
 shine,  as  he  that  will  go  to  bed  in  the  dark 
 to  save  his  expense  of  light.  It  is  my 
 part  to  know  what  I  may  do,  while  others 
 look  only  at  the  stream,  but  are  not  con- 
 cerned how  the  fountain  may  supply  it. 
 Though  the  look  to  what  I  spend  is  grate- 
 ful to  them,  yet  I  ought  to  care  for  what 
 is  convenient  for  me.  He  that  spends  to 
 his  proportion  is  as  brave  as  a  prince,  and 
 a  prince  exceeding  that  is  a  prodigal. 
 There  is  no  gallantry  beyond  what  is  fit 
 and  decent.  Unseemly  bounty  is  waste 
 both  of  wealth  and  wit.  He  that,  when 
 he  should  not,  spends  too  much,  shall, 
 when  he  would  not,  have  too  little  to 
 spend.  It  was  a  witty  reason  of  Diogenes 
 when  he  asked  but  a  halfpenny  of  the 
 thrifty  man  and  a  pound  of  the  prodigal : — 
 the  first,  he  said,  might  give  him  often; 
 but  the  other,  ei-e  long,  would  have  nothing 
 to  give.  To  spare  in  weighty  causes  is 
 the  worst  and- most  unhappy  part  of  thrift 
 that  can  be.  Liberality,  like  a  warm 
 shower,  mollifies  the  hardest  earth  and 
 prepares  it  for  fertility ;  but  he  that  is 
 penurious  turns  his  friends  into  enemies, 
 and  hardens  that  which  himself  desires  to 
 
ECONOMY  IN  LITTLE  MATTERS— EDUCATION. 
 
 285 
 
 find  pliant.  Who  can  expect  to  reap  that 
 never  sowed  his  seed  ;  or,  in  a  drought, 
 who  will  not  expect  to  find  his  harvest 
 poor  ?  Douhtless  there  is  not  any  worse 
 husbandry  than  the  being  too  near,  and 
 sordidly  miserable;  and  there  is  no  man 
 but  at  the  long  run  loses  by  it.  Nor,  on 
 the  other  hand,  can  we  find  that  to  spend 
 vainly,  even  with  a  plentiful  foi'tune,  hath 
 any  warrant  either  from  prudence  or  reli- 
 gion. 'Tis  a  kind  of  scandal  to  the  wise  to 
 see  a  riotous  waste  made  of  wealth  that 
 might  be  employed  to  more  precious  uses. 
 If  we  have  a  superfluity,  the  poor  have  an 
 interest  in  it;  but  surely  none  is  due  to 
 either  waste  or  wantonness.  Wealth  fool- 
 ishly consumed  is  wine  upon  the  pavement 
 dasht,  which  was  by  Providence  destined 
 to  have  cheered  the  heart.  If  the  thing 
 had  been  condemnable,  or  his  intention 
 warrantable,  it  was  not  phrased  amiss  when 
 Judas  grumbled — "  To  what  purpose  is 
 this  waste?"  Certainly,  her?  is  a  better 
 use  to  be  made  of  our  tal(  nts  than  to  cast 
 them  away  in  waste.  If  God  gave  us  them 
 not  to  lie  idly  by  us,  we  cannot  think  He 
 should  be  pleased,  when  either  loosely  we 
 consume  them  or  lewdly  we  misspend  them. 
 'Tis  the  improving,  not  the  wasting  or 
 hoarding,  that  the  master  does  commend ; 
 and  this  should  be  with  moderation ;  else 
 the  gloss  and  grace  of  all  is  dull. 
 
 Oiven  Feltham. 
 
 ECONOMY  IN  LITTLE  MATTERS. 
 
 "Many  a  little  makes  a  mickle,"  Is  a 
 good  old  Scotch  saying.  Here  is  another 
 that  sounds  English,  "Take  care  of  the 
 pence,  and  the  pounds  will  take  care  of 
 themselves."  But  there  is  a  higher  autho- 
 rity I'or  frugality.  When  our  blessed  Lord 
 had  fed  five  thousand  by  miracle,  and  could 
 have  created  enough  food  for  the  world  by 
 uttering  a  single  word,  "  He  said  to  His 
 disciples,  Gather  up  the  fragments  that 
 remain,  that  nothing  be  lost."  The  most 
 bountiful  Giver  in  the  universe  would 
 teach  His  followers  a  lesson  of  economy, 
 even  with  fragments  of  fishes  and  bread. 
 
 Some  years  ago,  the  dust  and  shavings 
 from  a  bookbindery,  where  gold-leaf  is  used 
 to  make  the  titles  on  the  backs  of  books, 
 were  sent  to  the  goldbeater's  to  be  burnt 
 out.  And  how  much  gold  do  you  think 
 was  found  from  the  little  particles  that 
 had  fallen  on  the  floor  ?  Why,  a  lump 
 that  was  valued  at  twenty  pounds !  Enough 
 to  buy  200  Bibles  or  20,000  tracts.  The 
 shavings  from  the  edges  of  books  in  the 
 same  bmdery  sell  for  600  or  700  pounds 
 a-year  for  paper  rags. 
 
 If  boys  and  girls  would  save  the  frag- 
 ments, of  time,  and  devote  them  to  reading 
 and  study,  they  might  become  learned  and 
 wise.  If  they  would  save  the  fragments 
 of  money,  they  might  become  wealthy  and 
 
 useful.  If  they  would  save  the  fragments 
 of  opportunity,  they  would  do  a  great  deal 
 of  good. 
 
 It  is  as  right  to  be  economical  and  saving 
 as  it  is  wrong  to  be  miserly  and  mean. 
 Save  to  give,  and  give  to  save.  Then  you 
 will  say,  as  a  good  man  did,  "  What  I  kept 
 I  lost,  and  what  I  gave  way  I  have." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 ECONOMY  IN  NATURE. 
 
 Nature  is  avariciously  frugal ;  in  matter 
 it  allows  no  atom  to  elude  its  grasp ;  in 
 mind,  no  thought  or  feeling  to  perish.  It 
 gathers  up  the  fragments  that  nothing  be 
 lost.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 EDIFICATION. 
 
 The  word  "  edification  "  is  metaphorical, 
 taken  from  material  buildings ;  but  it  is 
 often  used  by  the  Apostle  Paul  in  his 
 epistles,  with  application  ever  to  the 
 Chui-ch  of  God,  and  to  the  spiritual  build- 
 ing thereof.  The  Church  is  "  the  house  of 
 the  living  God."  (1  Tim.  iii,  15.)  All 
 Christians,  members  of  this  Church,  are  so 
 many  stones  of  the  building  whereof  the 
 house  is  made  up.  The  bringing  in  of  un- 
 believers into  the  Church,  by  converting 
 them  to  the  Christian  faith,  is  as  the  fetch- 
 ing of  more  stones  from  the  quarries  to  be 
 laid  in  the  building.  The  building  itself, 
 and  that  is  "  edification,"  is  the  well  and 
 orderly  joining  together  of  Christian  men 
 as  living  stones,  in  truth  and  love,  that 
 they  may  grow  together,  as  it  were,  into 
 one  entire  frame  of  building,  to  make  up  the 
 house  strong  and  comely  for  the  Master's 
 use  and  honour.  £p.  Sanderson. 
 
 EDUCATION— Ancient. 
 
 The  ancient  Spartans  educated  their 
 youth  in  a  stern  and  severe  drill,  begin- 
 ning with  the  earliest  infancy,  and  tending 
 to  make  the  body  elastic,  vigorous,  and 
 firm  to  the  last  degree.  For  the  mind  and 
 heart  it  cared  nothing.  A  young  man 
 who  could  neither  read  nor  write  might 
 yet  be  the  fiower  of  Spartan  youth,  if  he 
 could  hurl  the  discus  further  than  his 
 fellows,  or  wield  the  javelin  with  more 
 vigour  and  grace ;  or  if  he  could  endure, 
 without  a  groan,  the  savage  discipline  of 
 the  lash,  inflicted,  not  in  punishment,  but 
 as  a  test  of  honour,  and  with  all  the 
 sanctions  of  religion,  before  the  altars  of 
 the  gods. 
 
 Nor  was  the  Athenian  culture,  with  all 
 its  boasted  superiority  of  refinement,  in- 
 trinsically better.  It  was  an  intellectual 
 discipline,  to  be  sure,  and,  as  such,  in  many 
 respects  superior  to  our  own ;  but  it  took 
 little  heed  to  the  spiritual  nature,  and  left 
 the  culture  of  the  heart  to  accidental 
 agencies,  to  a  great  extent.  The  Persians, 
 perhaps  more  than  any  other  nation  of  an- 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
 tiquity,  took  pains  to  implant  moral  prin- 
 ciples in  the  minds  of  children  ;  yet  even 
 their  morality  was  of  the  earth,  eartliy. 
 It  sonofht  the  advantages  of  virtue  rather 
 than  its  beauty.  Dr.  McClintock. 
 
 EDUCATION— a  Bane  or  a  Blessing. 
 
 To  be  able  to  read  is  a  great  advantage, 
 but  this  advantage  may  be  sadly  abused : 
 to  read  a  good  book  may  be  a  blessing,  but 
 a  good  book  may  be  read  with  a  bad  pur- 
 pose. Tom  Paine  was  a  reader,  and  he 
 read  the  best  of  books,  the  Bible,  but  he 
 read  it  to  scoff  at  it  and  revile  it,  and 
 thus,  being  an  infidel  himself,  tainted  the 
 minds  of  thousands  with  infidelity. 
 
 To  be  able  to  write  is  a  great  advantage, 
 but  this  talent  may  be  made  a  curse.  Dr. 
 Dodd  is  a  melancholy  instance  of  this,  for 
 he  wrote  his  name  in  the  commission  of 
 forgery,  for  which  crime  be  suffered  an 
 ignominious  death.  O.  Mogridge. 
 
 EDUCATION— Beginning. 
 
 In  all  education,  whether  scholastic, 
 family,  religious,  theological,  physical,  or 
 business,  the  great  point  to  be  gained  in 
 the  first  place,  as  essential  to  success,  is 
 the  subjugation  of  the  will  of  the  pupil  to 
 an  acquiescence  in  the  things  taught,  the 
 manner  in  which  they  are  taught,  and  the 
 authority  of  the  teacher.  John  Bate. 
 
 The  first  step  to  form  the  mind  of  a 
 child  is  to  conquer  its  will.  When  once 
 subdued,  then  many  indulgences  can  be 
 safely  granted.  Mrs.  Wesley. 
 
 EDUCATION— Beginning  of. 
 
 Education  begins  with  life.  The  touch 
 first  ministers  to  it,  afterwards  the  sight, 
 and  then  the  hearing.  This  is  our  guide 
 in  seeking  to  ass=:rt  the  progress  of  nature. 
 "We  must  begin  with  present  and  tangible 
 things ;  we  must  then  give  absent  things 
 a  visible  form  by  picture  ,•  and  the  picture 
 which  meets  the  eye  may  lead  to  the  de- 
 scription which  finds  its  way  to  the  mind 
 only  by  the  ear.  Before  we  are  aware, 
 the  foundations  of  the  character  are  laid, 
 and  no  subsequent  instruction  can  remove 
 or  alter  them.  LinnEcus  was  the  son  of  a 
 poor  Swedish  clergyman.  His  father  had 
 a  little  flower-garden,  in  which  he  cul- 
 tivated all  the  flowers  which  his  means  or 
 his  taste  could  select.  Into  this  flower- 
 garden  he  introduced  his  little  son  from 
 his  infancy;  and  this  little  garden  un- 
 doubtedly created  that  taste  in  the  child 
 ■which  afterwards  made  him  the  first  bota- 
 nist and  naturalist  of  his  age,  if  not  of  his 
 race.  Br.  J.  Todd. 
 
 EDUCATION— Commencement  of. 
 
 Education  does  not  commence  with  the 
 alphabet;  it  begins  with  a  mother's  look. 
 
 with  a  father's  nod  of  approbation,  or  a 
 sign  of  reproof;  with  a  sister's  gentle 
 pressure  of  the  hand,  or  a  brother's  noble 
 act  of  forbearance;  with  handfuls  of  flowera 
 in  green  dells,  on  hills,  and  daisy  meadows ; 
 with  birds'  nests  admired,  but  not  touched; 
 with  creeping  ants,  and  almost  impercep- 
 tible emmets;  with  humming-bees  and 
 glass  beehives;  with  pleasant  walks  in  shady 
 lanes,  and  with  thoughts  directed  in  sweet 
 and  kindly  tones  and  words  to  nature,  to 
 beauty,  to  acts  of  benevolence,  to  deeds  of 
 virtue,  and  to  the  source  of  all  good — to 
 God  Himself!  Anon. 
 
 EDUCATION— Discipline  in. 
 
 In  colleges  and  halls,  in  ancient  days. 
 There  dwelt  a  sage  called  Discipline. 
 His  eye  was  meek  and  gentle,  and  a  smile 
 Played  on  his  lips ;  and  in  his  speech  was 
 
 heard 
 Paternal  sweetness,  dignity,  and  love. 
 The  occupation  dearest  to  liis  heart 
 Was   to    encourage   goodness.      Learning 
 
 grew, 
 Beneath    his    care,   a    thriving,   vigorous 
 
 plant. 
 The  mind  was  well  informed,  the  passions 
 
 held 
 Subordinate,  and  diligence  was  choice. 
 If  e'er  it  chanced,  as  sometimes  chance  it 
 
 must. 
 That  one  among  so  many,  overleaped 
 The  limits  of  control,  his  gentle  eye 
 Grew  stern,  and  darted  a  severe  rebuke. 
 His  frown  was  full  of  terror,  and  his  voice 
 Shook  the  delinquent  with  such  fits  of  awe. 
 As  left  him  not,  till  penitence  had  won 
 Lost  favour  back  again,  and   closed   the 
 
 breach. 
 
 But  Discipline  at  length, 
 O'erlooked  and  unemployed,  grew  sick,  and 
 
 died. 
 Then  study  languished,  emulation  slept. 
 And  virtue  fled.     The   schools   became  a 
 
 scene 
 Of  solemn  farce,  where  ignorance  in  stilts, 
 His  cap  well  lined  with  logic  not  his  own. 
 With  parrot  tongue  performed  the  scholar's 
 
 part. 
 Proceeding  soon  a  graduated  dunce. 
 
 What  was  learned, 
 If  aught  was  learned  in  childhood,  is  for- 
 got; 
 And  such  expense  as  pinches  parents  blue. 
 And  mortifies  tlie  liberal  hand  of  love. 
 Is  squandered  in  pursuit  of  idle  sports 
 And  vicious  pleasures.  Cow^er. 
 
 When  George  II F  wished  his  two  sons, 
 the  Prince  of  Wales  and  the  Duke  of  York, 
 to  be  instructed,  he  sent  for  one  of  the 
 most  rigid  disciplinarians  of  the  day ;  and 
 when  the  king  and  the  teacher  stood  to- 
 gether, one  would  have  been  at  a  loss  to 
 
EDUCATIOir. 
 
 287 
 
 know  whether  to  admire  more  the  majesty 
 of  royalty  or  the  majesty  of  learning.  Tlie 
 king  gave  a  side  glance  at  the  two  boys 
 who  stood  at  his  feet,  and  said  to  the  stern 
 doctor  who  stood  before  him,  "  Sir,  I  wish 
 you  to  teach  these,  my  two  sons."  "  And, 
 please  your  majesty,"  replied  the  teacher, 
 "how  do  you  wish  these  princes  to  be 
 treated?"  "Just  treat  them,"  returned 
 the  king,  "  as  you  would  treat  the  sons  of 
 a  private  gentleman ;  if  they  require  it, 
 flog  them ;  just  do  with  them  as  you  do  at 
 Westminster  School."  And  so  the  doctor 
 did  ;  he  let  them  know  by  hard  experience 
 that  the  rod  was  made  for  the  fool's  back. 
 And  when  Louis  XIV  of  France,  one  of  the 
 proudest  kings  that  ever  sat  on  the  French 
 throne,  began  to  feel  his  inferiority  in 
 knowledge  after  he  had  arrived  at  the  years 
 of  maturity,  he  complained  to  his  courtiers 
 that  he  was  ignorant  of  many  things  which 
 they  knew.  Upon  which  a  nobleman  near 
 him  ventured  to  hint  that  when  a  child  he 
 was  wilful  and  wayward,  and  refused  to 
 listen  to  the  voice  of  instruction.  "What !" 
 he  exclaimed,  "was  there  not  birch  enough 
 in  the  forest  of  Fontaiuebleau  ?  " 
 
 J.  Hutchinson. 
 
 EDUCATION— Family. 
 
 We  have  had  great  disputes  how  the 
 Church  ought  to  be  regulated;  but  the 
 clue  regulation  of  your  families  is  no  less, 
 and  in  some  respects,  of  much  greater  im- 
 portance. Every  Christian  family  ought 
 to  be,  as  it  were,  a  little  church  consecrated 
 to  Christ,  and  wholly  influenced  and 
 governed  by  His  rules.  Family  education 
 and  order  are  some  of  the  chief  of  the 
 means  of  grace.  If  these  fail,  all  other 
 means  are  likely  to  prove  ineftectual ;  if 
 these  are  duly  maintained,  all  the  means 
 of  grace  are  likely  to  prosper  and  become 
 successful.  Jonathan  Edwards. 
 
 EDUCATION— of  the  Girls. 
 
 A  great  traveller  and  writer  observes : — 
 "  When  I  lived  among  the  Choctaw  Indians, 
 I  held  a  consultation  with  one  of  their 
 chiefs,  respecting  the  successive  stages  of 
 their  progress  in  the  arts  of  civilised  life ; 
 and,  among  other  things,  he  informed  me 
 that  at  their  start,  they  made  a  great  mis- 
 take—they only  sent  hoys  to  school.  These 
 boys  came  home  intelligent  men,  but  they 
 married  uneducated  and  uncivilised  wives ; 
 and  the  uniform  result  was,  the  children 
 were  all  like  their  mothers!  The  father 
 soon  lost  all  his  interest,  both  in  wife  and 
 children.  '  And  now,'  said  he,  '  if  we  would 
 educate  but  one  class  of  our  children,  we 
 should  choose  the  girls ;  for  when  they  be- 
 come mothers,  they  educate  their  sons.' " 
 This  is  the  point,  and  it  is  true.  No  nation 
 can  become  fully  enlightened,  when  mothers 
 are  not  qualified  to  discharge  the  duties  of 
 
 the  home-work  of  education.  Parents  ! 
 give  your  daughters,  as  well  as  your  sons 
 the  best  education  in  your  power. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 EDUCATION— Habit  in. 
 
 Were  you  to  give  the  most  solemn  and 
 impressive  instruction  possible  to  a  com- 
 pany just  as  they,  were  going  into  a  theatre, 
 it  would  do  no  good.  The  impressions 
 would  all  be  gone  in  an  hour,  and  other 
 and  deeper  impressions  would  take  their 
 place.  The  same  feelings  awakened  in  an 
 audience  who  were  in  the  habit  of  daily 
 prayer,  would  be  likely  to  abide,  and  to 
 bring  forth  the  fruits  of  eternal  life.  Those 
 children  who  are  prodigies  of  learning  and 
 attainment  in  early  life,  often  prove  to  be 
 very  ordinary  men ;  and  the  surprise  is, 
 that  a  tree  so  full  of  blossoms  should  produce 
 so  little  fruit ;  while,  in  other  cases,  a  child 
 giving  but  faint  promise  of  mind  in  early 
 life,  frequently  becomes  great,  and  wise,  and 
 good,  in  mature  years.  This  ditference  is 
 not  merely  to  be  attributed  to  the  slowness 
 with  which  these  minds  were  developed, 
 but  to  the  habits  formed  in  early  life.  A 
 child  may  acquire  thought  slowly,  yet  if  he 
 has  formed  the  habit  of  acquiring  each 
 thought  fully  and  distinctly,  and  of  retaining 
 it  when  acquired,  he  will  eventually  become 
 a  wise  man.  On  the  other  hand,  that  boy 
 so  bright  before  you  now,  who  commits  to 
 memory  so  readily,  or  who  is  so  prompt  in 
 understanding,  and  so  quick  in  answering 
 your  questions,  may  be  forming  habits 
 which  will  more  than  destroy  all  that  he 
 now  obtains.  All  great  men  have  attri- 
 buted their  success  more  to  the  mental  and 
 moral  habits  acquired  in  early  life,  than  to 
 anything  else.  Even  the  temper,  the  dis- 
 position, is  formed  by  acquired  habits,  so 
 that  one  who  is  naturally  irritable,  may 
 become  a  calm  man.  Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 EDUCATION— for  Immortality. 
 
 We  have  a  thorough  belief  that  the 
 great  secret  of  training  lies  in  the  always 
 regarding  the  child  as  immortal.  Tlie 
 moment  that  this  is  kej^t  out  of  sight  we 
 scheme  and  arrange  as  though  the  child 
 had  to  live  only  upon  earth,  and  then  our 
 plans  not  being  commensurate  with  the 
 vastness  of  their  object  will  necessarily  be 
 inadequate  to  the  securing  its  good. 
 Educate  on  the  principle  that  you  educate 
 for  eternity,  otherwise  it  is  impossible  to 
 produce  a  beneficial  result.  Of  course  we 
 know  what  will  immediately  be  urged 
 against  such  a  theory  of  education  as  this  j 
 we  shall  be  accused  of  neglecting  all  know- 
 ledge which  is  not  strictly  religious,  of 
 laying  an  interdict  upon  various  acquire- 
 ments, and  still  more  upon  various  accom- 
 plishments j  but  the  accusation  is  un- 
 founded, and  shows  forgetfulness  or  ignor- 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
 ance  of  a  great  truth,  namely,  that  religion 
 adds  a  fresh  interest  to  everything  worth 
 knowing,  and  a  fresh  grace  to  everything 
 worth  doing.  We  should  like  to  know 
 whether  it  would  not  be  very  possible  to 
 act  on  the  above  theory,  the  educating 
 for  time  by  educating  for  eternity,  and 
 nevertheless  to  instruct  the  child  in  various 
 branches  of  literature,  and  even  to  enrich 
 him  with  much  that  is  purely  ornamental. 
 Let  us  first  show  you  what  we  mean  in  a 
 few  simple  instances.  When  a  child  is 
 first  taught  to  read,  why  might  it  not  be 
 taught  that  the  great  worth  of  being  able 
 to  read  lies  in  having  access  to  the  Bible  ? 
 This  would  give  a  sacredness  to  the  very 
 alphabet — each  syllable  that  was  mastered 
 might  be  felt  as  a  step  towards  acquaint- 
 ance with  God.  When  a  child  is  first 
 taught  to  write,  why  might  he  not  be  in- 
 formed that  he  is  beginning  an  art  with- 
 out which  Divine  Truth  could  hai-dly  have 
 been  transmitted  from  age  to  age  ?  Why 
 might  he  not  be  made  almost  to  venerate 
 the  pen  which  he  is  just  learning  to  handle, 
 as  a  wondi-ous  instrument  for  tracing  lines 
 of  light  on  the  darkened  pages  of  man's 
 history  ?  When  first  instructed  in  figures, 
 must  he  regard  arithmetic  merely  as  an 
 ingenious  contrivance  for  facilitating  busi- 
 ness ?  Why  not  be  taught  to  view  it  as 
 man's  effort  at  compassing  eternity,  the 
 life  time  of  God  ?  It  would  be  a  thousand- 
 fold more  interesting  in  its  failure  than  in 
 its  most  striking  success.  Or  when  the 
 youth  is  engaged  at  the  study  of  the  dead 
 languages,  must  he  consider  that  classical 
 literature  is  valuable  only  or  chiefly  for 
 the  eloquence  of  ancient  orators,  and  the 
 melody  of  ancient  poets  ?  These  languages 
 admit  us  into  tlie  Bible,  and  works  closely 
 associated  with  the  Bible.  Why,  then, 
 should  not  the  student  be  made  to  feel 
 that  he  is  but  strengthening  his  acquaint- 
 ance with  Isaiah  and  St  Paul  ?  And 
 would  that  theory  of  education  exclude  the 
 sciences  over  which  philosophy  presides  ? 
 Nay,  what  are  those  sciences  but  the  hand- 
 maids of  revelation  ?  When  are  they  so 
 illustrious  as  when  bending  to  Christianity, 
 from  which  they  have  virtually  derived  all 
 their  life  ?  Or  is  it  said  that  on  this  prin- 
 ciple there  would  be  no  place  for  what 
 are  termed  accomplishments  ?  Why  so  ? 
 Painting  is  but  an  imitation  of  God's 
 works,  and  might  be  used  to  humble  us  by 
 its  inferiority  when  it  most  charms  by  its 
 excellence :  music  is  but  a  vehicle  for  God's 
 praises  ;  and  as  for  instructions  which  give 
 a  polish  to  the  manners,  we  would  have  it 
 taught  that  good  manners  are  a  part  of 
 good  morals — that  politeness  is  both  a 
 fruit  and  a  duty  of  Christianity,  and  that 
 if  it  were  a  thing  of  no  religious  importance 
 how  we  behave  ourselves  in  company,  our 
 blessed  Saviour  would  not  have  delivered  a 
 
 rule  as  to  the  place  we  should  take  at 
 table.  It  cannot  be  necessary  for  us  to 
 show  you  how,  when  a  child  has  reached 
 the  point  at  which  he  has  to  enter  a  pro- 
 fession for  life,  we  might  still  teach  him  to 
 look  through  the  present  at  the  future. 
 We  might  urge  on  him  the  importance  of 
 industry,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  gain 
 which  it  may  secure,  but  because  labour  is 
 God's  ordinance,  and  because  God  there- 
 fore may  be  as  truly  served  in  and  through 
 any  lawful  calling  as  in  and  through  what 
 are  more  plainly  religious.  We  might 
 thus  take  off',  if  we  might  venture  on  the 
 saying,  the  secular  character  from  secular 
 things,  throw  an  air  of  sanctity  around  the 
 most  common  occupations,  and  give  to  the 
 workshop,  the  wharf,  or  the  counting-house, 
 the  aspect  of  a  consecrated  place. 
 
 S.  Melvill. 
 
 EDUCATION— Kinds  of. 
 
 From  a  contemplation  of  man  it  is 
 obvious  that  he  is  capable  of  various  kinds 
 of  education.  He  is  possessed  oi physical, 
 social,  secular,  intellectual,  moral,  and  im- 
 mortal  capabilities.  Each  requires  educa- 
 tion, to  prepare  him  to  move  in  his  destiny 
 according  to  the  will  of  God.  The  educa- 
 tion of  all  makes  him  complete ;  the  edu- 
 cation of  part  only  leaves  him  deficient. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 EDUCATION—"  Made  up." 
 
 I  have  observed,  that  most  ladies  who 
 have  had  what  is  considered  as  an  educa- 
 tion, have  no  idea  of  an  education  progres- 
 sive through  life.  Having  attained  a  cer- 
 tain measure  of  accomplishment,  know- 
 ledge, manners,  kc,  they  consider  themselves 
 as  made  up,  and  so  take  their  station ;  they 
 are  pictures  which,  being  quite  finished, 
 are  now  put  in  a  frame — a  gilded  one,  if 
 possible — and  hung  up  in  permanence  of 
 beauty !  in  permanence,  that  is  to  say,  till 
 Old  Time,  with  his  rude  and  dirty  fingers, 
 soils  the  charming  colours.  J.  Foster. 
 
 EDUCATION— Maternal. 
 
 Don't  cram  your  children  with  unreal 
 forms,  like  blown  bladders,  which  occupy 
 all  the  room,  and  collapse  on  the  first  rude 
 rub  on  real  life.  In  pity  to  your  children, 
 put  something  into  them  that  will  last, 
 and  wear.  Don't  expend  all  your  energies 
 iu  tying  ornaments  on  them,  to  attract  the 
 gaze  of  the  curious  iu  the  street;  get  into 
 them,  if  you  can,  some  of  that  ornament 
 which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price 
 (1  Pet.  iii,  4.)  Mothers,  if  your  hearts 
 have  been  quickened  by  the  Spirit,  take 
 your  fashions  from  the  Word  of  God.  Oc- 
 cupy yourselves  mainly  in  moulding  the 
 heart  and  life  of  your  children,  after  the 
 pattern  which  Jesus  showed  and  taught. 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
 289 
 
 This  w'll  give  you  most  cnjoymeut  at  the 
 tiiue,  and  most  honour  afterward. 
 
 Arnot. 
 
 EDUCATION— Method  of. 
 
 Knowledge  is  not  to  be  crammed  in  by 
 mere  naked  dictation ;  you  must  teach  as 
 nature  teai-hes,  gently,  softly,  kindly — a 
 little  now,  a  little  then — a  little  here,  a 
 little  there— a  little  this  way,  a  little  that 
 way.  See  how  nature  trains  her  plants  in 
 the  field.  If  you  have  gone  into  the  corn- 
 field early  in  the  morning,  you  have  seen 
 the  little  drop  of  dew  on  the  top  of  each 
 wheat-ear,  standing  there  and  asking  the 
 sun  to  kiss  it,  and  impart  to  it  some  new 
 chemical  virtue,  and  having  been  kissed  by 
 the  sun  and  invigorated,  it  looks  for  a  little 
 groove,  a  little  canal,  a  little  fissure  in  the 
 plant,  and  runs  down  that  fissure  to  the 
 root,  and  nourishes  it.  That  takes  place 
 every  morning;  and  what  is  the  conse- 
 quence ?  Why,  there  is  the  car  filling  all 
 round  the  top  of  the  stalk — a  number  of 
 rows,  in  each  row  a  number  of  little  granu- 
 lar buds  when  the  summer  sun  shines  out, 
 the  dew  drop  is  formed,  and  these  little 
 granular  buds  swell;  they  harden;  they 
 swell  again,  and  harden  again  ;  the  summer 
 sun  shines  out  still  more  bravelj'- ;  and  then 
 you  have  the  full  corn  in  the  ear,  which 
 bows  its  head  and  asks  the  reaper  to  take 
 it  in.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 EDUCATION— Neglect  of. 
 
 As  we  see  many  times  good  ground  grow 
 mossy  and  barren,  for  want  or  culture ;  so 
 it  is  with  good  wits,  which,  being  neglected, 
 usually  become  more  vicious  than  those  of 
 less  hope  and  pregnancy.  The  foundations 
 of  an  honorable  and  comfortable  age  are 
 laid  in  the  minority  of  children ;  if  the 
 plant  be  not  kept  straight  at  first,  the  tree 
 will  be  crooked  incurably  at  the  last.  It 
 is  as  great  a  folly  to  lay  up  estates  for 
 children,  and  to  take  no  care  of  themselves 
 who  must  enjoy  them,  as  to  be  curious 
 for  a  handsome  shoe,  and  then  to  put  it 
 upon  a  gouty  foot.  Bjp.  Reynolds. 
 
 We  are  told  that  the  total  population  in 
 England  and  Wales  of  children  between 
 the  ages  of  3  and  15  beine:  estimated  at 
 4,908,69G,  only  2,016,848  attend  school  at 
 all,  while  2,861,848  receive  no  instruction 
 whatever.  At  the  same  time  an  analysis 
 of  the  scholars  with  reference  to  the  length 
 of  time  allowed  for  their  school  tuition, 
 shows  that  42  per  cent,  of  them  have  been 
 at  school  for  less  than  one  year,  22  per 
 cent,  during  one  year,  15  per  cent,  during 
 two  years,  9  per  cent,  during  three  years, 
 5  per  cent,  during  four  years,  and  4  per 
 cent,  during  five  years.  Therefore,  out  of 
 the  two  millions  of  scholars  alluded  to, 
 more  than  o:ie  million  and  a  half  remain 
 
 only  two  years  at  scbool.  I  leave  it  to  you 
 to  judge  what  the  results  of  such  an  edu- 
 cation can  be.  I  find  further  that  of  those 
 two  millions  of  children  attending  school, 
 only  about  600,000  are  above  the  age  of 
 nine.  Frince  Albert. 
 
 EDUCATION— Patience  in. 
 
 John  Wesley's  home  education,  under 
 the  tutelage  of  his  parents  themselves,  was 
 peculiar,  and  well  calculated  to  initiate  him 
 early  in  habits  of  order  and  perseverance  in 
 accomplishing  any  olject  he  might  under- 
 take. "  Why,  my  dear,"  said  his  father  to 
 his  mother,  while  patiently  teaching  one  of 
 their  children  a  simple  lesson,  which  it 
 was  slow  to  learn — "  why,  my  dear,  do  you 
 teil  that  dull  boy  the  same  thing  twenty 
 times  over  ?"  "  Because, "  replied  the 
 mother,  "nineteen  times  won't  do.  If 
 I  tell  him  but  nineteen  times  all  my  laboui* 
 is  lost,  but  the  twentieth  secures  the 
 object !" 
 
 Zeuxis  being  asked  why  he  was  so  long 
 about  a  picture,  answered,  "  I  pitint  for 
 eternity."  P.  B.  Power. 
 
 EDUCATION— Practical. 
 
 A  gentleman,  not  long  since,  took  up  an 
 apple  to  show  a  niece,  sixteen  years  of  age, 
 who  had  studied  geography  several  years, 
 something  about  the  shape  and  motion  of 
 the  earth.  She  looked  at  him  a  few  mi- 
 nutes, and  said,  with  much  earnestness, 
 "  Why,  uncle,  you  don't  mean  that  the 
 earth  really  turns  round,  do  you  ?"  He 
 replied,  "But  did  you  not  learn  that 
 several  years  ago  ?"  "  Yes,  sir,"  she  re- 
 plied, "  I  learned  it,  but  I  never  knew  it 
 before."  Now  it  is  obvious  that  this 
 young  lady  had  been  labouring  several 
 years  on  the  subject  of  geography,  and 
 groping  in  almost  total  darkness,  because 
 some  kind  friend  did  not  show  her  at  the 
 outset,  by  some  familiar  illustration,  that 
 the  earth  really  turned  round.  Anon. 
 
 EDUCATION— Principle  in. 
 
 A  very  important  principle  in  education, 
 never  to  confine  children  long  to  any  one 
 occupation  or  place  :  it  is  totally  against 
 tlieir  nature,  as  indicated  in  all  their  volun- 
 tary exercises.  I  was  very  much  struck 
 with  this  consideration  to-day.  I  was  in- 
 commoded awhile  by  three  or  four  children 
 in  front  of  the  house,  wlio  made  an  obstre- 
 perous noise,  from  the  glee  of  some  amuse- 
 ment that  seemed  to  please  them  exceed- 
 ingly. But  I  knew  that  they  would  not  be 
 pleased  very  long;  accordingly  in  about 
 half  an  hour  they  were  tii-ed  of  sport,  and 
 went  off  in  quest  of  something  else.  I  in- 
 ferred the  impossibility,  in  the  discipline  of 
 education,  of  totally  restraining  the  innate 
 propensity,  and  the  folly  of  attempti)ig  it. 
 J.  Foster. 
 19 
 
290 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 EDUCATION— Progress  of. 
 
 In  1801  there  were  in  England  and 
 "Wales,  of  public  schools,  2876 ;  of  private 
 schools,  487— total,  3363.  In  1851  (the 
 year  of  the  census)  there  were  in  England 
 and  Wales,  of  public  schools,  15,518  ;  of 
 private  schools,  30,524— total,  46,042; 
 giving  instruction  in  all  to  2,144,378 
 scholars;  of  whom  1,422,982  belong  to 
 public  schools,  and  721,396  to  the  private 
 schools.  The  rate  of  progress  is  further 
 illustrated  by  statistics  which  show  that 
 in  1818  the  proportion  of  day  scholars  to 
 the  population  was  1  in  17  ;  in  1833,  1  in 
 11;  and  in  1851,  1  in  8.  These  are  great 
 results,  although  I  hope  they  may  only  be 
 received  as  instalments  of  what  has  yet  to 
 be  done.  Prince  Albert. 
 
 EDUCATION— Province  of. 
 
 We  know  that  the  gifts  which  men  have 
 do  not  come  from  the  schools.  If  a  man  is 
 a  plain,  literal,  factual  man,  you  can  make 
 a  great  deal  more  of  him  in  his  own  line  by 
 education  than  without  education,  just  as 
 you  can  make  a  great  deal  more  of  a  potato 
 if  you  cultivate  it  than  if  you  do  not;  but  no 
 cultivation  in  this  world  will  ever  make  an 
 apple  out  of  a  potato.  It  can  be  developed, 
 but  it  must  be  developed  ;according  to  the 
 laws  of  its  own  nature.  Education  will 
 make  it  more,  but  will  not  change  its 
 nature.  If  a  man  was  not  born  eloquent, 
 he  cannot  be  bred  to  eloqtience ;  if  a  man 
 was  not  born  to  a  sense  of  colour,  he  can- 
 not be  educated  to  a  sense  of  colour ;  if  a 
 man  was  not  born  to  a  sense  of  form,  he 
 cannot  be  educated  to  a  sense  of  form  ;  if  a 
 man  was  not  born  to  a  quick  creative  genius, 
 he  cannot  be  trained  to  it.  Where  these 
 things  exist,  they  are  gifts  in  the  beginning. 
 Education  makes  them  better,  and  more 
 usable ;  but  it  cannot  create  in  men  what 
 God  did  not  create  in  them  when  He 
 started  them  in  life.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 EDUCATION— not  ReHgion. 
 
 Education  doth  much  cultivate  and  refine 
 nature :  education  is  a  good  wall  to  plant 
 the  vine  of  grace  against,  but  it  is  not 
 grace.  King  Jehoash  wo-s  good  as  long  as 
 his  uncle  Jehoiada  lived;  but  when  Je- 
 hoiada  died.allJehoash's  religion  was  buried 
 in  his  uncle's  grave  (2  Kings  xii,  2).  Have 
 not  we  seen  many  who  have  been  trained 
 religiously  under  their  parents,  and  were 
 very  hopeful,  yet  these  fair  blossoms  of 
 hope  have  been  blown  off,  and  they  have 
 lived  to  be  a  shame  to  their  friends  ? 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 EDUCATION— A  Requisite  for. 
 
 There  is,  however,  in  some  tempers,  such 
 a  natural  barrenness  that,  like  the  sands 
 of  Arabia,  they  are  never  to  be  cultivated 
 or  imijrovcd;    and  some  will  never  leani 
 
 anything,  because  they  understand  every- 
 thing too  soon.  Give  me,  says  Quintillian 
 (among  his  excellent  rules  for  instructing 
 youth),  a  child  that  is  sensible  of  praise, 
 and  touched  with  gloiy,  and  that  will  cry 
 at  the  shame  of  being  outdone,  and  I  will 
 keep  him  to  his  business  by  emulation; 
 reproof  will  afflict,  and  honour  will  en- 
 courage him,  and  I  shall  not  fear  to  cure 
 him  of  his  idleness.  L.  M.  Stretch, 
 
 EDUCATION— Routine. 
 
 A  gentleman  while  attending  an  exami- 
 nation of  a  school  where  every  question 
 was  answered  with  the  greatest  prompt- 
 ness, put  some  questions  to  the  pupils 
 which  were  not  exactly  the  same  as  found 
 in  the  book.  After  numerous  ready  an- 
 swers to« their  teachers  on  the  subject  of 
 geography,  he  asked  one  of  the  pupils 
 where  Turkey  was.  She  answered  rather 
 hesitatingly,  "In  the  yard,  with  the  poul- 
 try." Hiss  Edgetvorth. 
 
 EDUCATION— Standard  of. 
 
 If  we  do  not  adopt  the  Bible  as  our 
 standard  in  training  the  young,  combined 
 ti-aining  is  impossible.  If  in  moral  prin- 
 ciples every  man  is  his  own  lawgiver,  there 
 is  no  law  at  all,  and  no  authority.  You 
 may  train  a  fruit  tree  by  nailing  its 
 branches  to  a  wall,  or  tying  them  to  an 
 espalier  railing;  but  the  tree  whose 
 branches  have  nothing  to  lean  on  but  air 
 is  not  trained  at  all.  It  is  not  a  dispute 
 between  the  Scriptures  and  some  other 
 rival  standard,  for  no  such  standard  exists 
 or  is  proposed.  It  is  a  question  between 
 the  Bible  as  a  standard,  and  no  standard 
 at  all.  But  training  without  an  acknow- 
 ledged standard  is  nothing — is  an  empty 
 form  of  words,  by  which  ingenious  men 
 amuse  themselves.  There  are  some  who 
 would  borrow  from  the  Bible  whatever 
 moral  principles  they  have,  and  yet  are 
 unwilling  to  own  the  Scriptures,  in  their 
 integrity,  as  an  authority  binding  the  con- 
 science; because,  if  it  is  binding  in  one 
 thing,  it  is  binding  in  all.  Arnot. 
 
 EDUCATION— Time  for. 
 
 Thalwell  thought  it  very  unfair  to  in- 
 fluence a  child's  mind  by  inculcating  any 
 opinions  before  it  had  come  to  years  of  dis- 
 cretion to  choose  for  itself.  I  showed  him 
 my  garden,  and  told  him  it  was  a  botanical 
 garden.  "How  so?"  said  he;  "it  is 
 covered  witli  weeds."  "Oh,"  I  replied, 
 "  that  is  only  because  it  has  not  yet  come 
 to  its  age  of  discretion  and  choice.  The 
 weeds,  you  see,  have  taken  the  liberty  to 
 grow,  and  thought  it  unftiir  in  me  to  pre- 
 judice the  soil  towards  roses  and  sti-aw- 
 berries."  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 That  chlldhoo.l  is  the  proper  period  for 
 
EDUCATION. 
 
 education  is  one  of  the  most  obvious  of  all 
 general  truths.  In  profession,  at  least,  it 
 is  universally  acknowledg^ed.  The  law  on 
 which  it  is  founded  holds  good  in  all 
 coujitries  and  all  times.  Its  range  is  not 
 limited  to  human  kind.  It  traverses  the 
 boundary  of  the  animal  kingdom,  and  de- 
 termines the  form  of  a  branch  as  well  as 
 the  character  of  man.  The  world  teems 
 with  analogies,  both  real  and  obvious, 
 whereby  the  moralist  may  enforce  the  duty 
 of  educating  in  the  comparatively  pliable 
 period  of  youth.  You  may,  within  certain 
 limits,  determine  at  will  the  direction  of  a 
 river,  a  tree,  a  m:m,  if  you  touch  them  near 
 tlieir  soiirces,  where  they  are  tiny  and 
 tender  J  but  none  of  these  when  full  grown 
 can  be  bent,  except  in  very  minute  degrees, 
 and  at  an  expense  of  labour  greatly  dis- 
 proportionate to  the  result.  Arnot. 
 
 EDUCATION— Value  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  blessings  which  it  has  pleased 
 Providence  to  allow  us  to  cultivate,  there 
 is  not  one  which  breathes  a  purer  fragrance, 
 or  bears  a  heavenlier  aspect,  than  educa- 
 tion. It  is  a  companion  which  no  mis- 
 fortunes can  depress — no  crime  destroy — 
 no  enemy  alienate — no  despotism  enslave ; 
 at  home  a  friend — abroad  an  introduc- 
 tion ;  in  solitude  a  solace — in  society  an 
 ornament :  it  chastens  vice — it  guides  vir- 
 tue ;  it  gives  at  once  a  grace  and  govern- 
 ment to  genius.  Without  it,  what  is  man  ? 
 A  splendid  slave !  a  reasoning  savage ! 
 vacillating  between  the  dignity  of  an  in- 
 telligence derived  from  God,  and  the  degra- 
 dations of  passions  participated  with  brutes, 
 and,  in  the  accident  of  their  alternate  as- 
 cendancy, shuddering  at  the  terrors  of  an 
 hereafter,  or  hugging  the  horrid  ho])e  of 
 annihilation.  FhiUips. 
 
 EDUCATION— Views  of. 
 
 It  is  observed  that  education  is  gene- 
 rally the  worse  in  proportion  to  the  wealth 
 of  the  parents.  Many  are  apt  to  tliink 
 that  to  dance,  fence,  speak  French,  and  to 
 know  how  to  behave  among  great  persons, 
 comprehends  the  whole  duty  of  a  gentle- 
 man ;  which  opinion  is  enough  to  destroy 
 all  the  seeds  of  knowledge,  honour,  wisdom, 
 and  virtue  among  us.  To  be  prudent, 
 honest,  and  good,  are  infinitely  higher  ac- 
 complishments than  the  being  nice,  florid, 
 learned,  or  the  possessors  of  all  those 
 showy  qualifications  for  which  the  world 
 will  bestow  on  us  the  appellations  of  great 
 scholars  and  fine  gentlemen. 
 
 Agesilaus  being  asked  what  he  thought 
 most  proper  for  boys  to  learn  ?  answered, 
 What  they  ought  to  do  when  they  became 
 men,  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 EDUCATION  (Religious)— Great  End  of. 
 To  give  a  man  a  Christian  education  is 
 
 to  make  him  love  God  as  well  as  know 
 Him;  to  make  him  have  faith  in  Christ  as 
 well  as  to  have  been  taught  the  facts  that 
 He  died  for  our  sins  and  rose  again;  to 
 make  him  open  his  heart  eagerly  to  every 
 impulse  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  well  as  to 
 have  been  taught  the  fact  as  it  is  in  the 
 Nicene  Creed — that  He  is  the  Lord  and 
 Giver  of  spiritual  life.  And  will  mere 
 lessons  do  all  this,  when  the  course  of  life 
 and  all  examples  around,  both  at  home  and 
 at  school,  with  a  far  more  mighty  teaching, 
 and  one  to  which  our  natural  dispositions 
 far  more  readily  answer,  enforce  the  con- 
 trary ?  And  therefore  the  great  work  of 
 Christian  education  is  not  the  direct  and 
 certain  fruit  of  building  schools  and  en- 
 gaging schoolmasters,  but  something  fiir 
 beyond,  to  be  compassed  only  by  the  joint 
 efforts  of  all  the  whole  Church  and  nation, 
 by  the  schoolmaster  and  tlie  parent,  by  the 
 schoolfellow  at  i-chool,  and  by  the  brothers 
 and  sisters  at  home,  by  the  clergymen  in 
 his  calling,  by  the  landlord  in  his  calling, 
 by  the  farmer  and  the  tradesman,  by  the 
 labourer  and  the  professional  man,  and  the 
 man  of  independent  income,  whether  large 
 or  small,  in  theirs,  by  the  queen  and  her 
 ministers,  by  the  great  council  of  the 
 nation  in  parliament;  by  each  and  all  of 
 these  labouring  to  remove  temptations  to 
 evil,  to  make  good  easier  and  more  honoured, 
 to  confirm  faith  and  holiness  in  others  by 
 their  own  example;  in  a  word,  to  make 
 men  love  and  glorify  their  God  and  Saviour 
 when  they  see  the  blessed  fruits  of  His 
 kingdom  even  here  on  earth.    Dr.  Arnold. 
 
 EDUCATION  (ReUgious)— Necessity  of. 
 
 If  you  wish  to  have  a  garden  filled  with 
 beautiful  flowers,  what  course  do  you  take  ? 
 Do  you  leave  it  to  the  chapter  of  accidents 
 that  such  and  such  flowers  shall  happen  to 
 collect  in  your  garden,  that  they  shall 
 happen  to  take  such  and  such  rows,  and 
 such  and  such  settings  ?  No,  if  you  wish 
 to  have  a  garden  fitted  with  beautiful 
 flowers,  you  have  a  proper  selection  made, 
 you  have  them  set  at  proper  distances,  aiid 
 you  have  the  soil  prepared  to  receive  them, 
 and  you  watch  them,  and  cultivate  them, 
 and  nurse  them,  and  defend  them.  Or  say 
 you  have  an  orchard,  and  you  want  it  in 
 autumn  to  be  filled  with  ripe  delicious 
 j  fruit — what  do  you  do  ?  Do  you  leave  it 
 to  the  chapter  of  accidents  whether  or  no 
 the  fruit  trees  shall  come  into  the  orchard, 
 and  whether  or  no  they  shall  bear  that 
 delicious  fruit  which  you  desire  ?  No,  you 
 have  the  fruit  trees  selected,  you  have  the 
 land  prepared,  and  you  have  them  placed 
 there,  and  you  watch  the  young  bud  and 
 the  young  shoot,  and  you  take  away  the 
 caterpillar,  and  you  favour  the  development 
 and  the  growth  of  the  tree,  and  by  culti- 
 vation and  care  you  obtain  your  desire. 
 
292 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 and  when  the  harvest  comes  j'ou  have  rich 
 and  delicious  fruit.  Or  suppose  a  man 
 wishes  to  have  his  own  grounds  adorned 
 with  beautiful  trees,  which  give  such  pic- 
 turesque richness  to  the  landscape,  what 
 does  he  do  ?  He  has  the  trees  selected, 
 marked,  placed  regularly  and  exactly ; 
 everything  is  done  to  remove  hindrances 
 out  of  the  way,  and  to  give  facilities  to 
 their  growth.  And  shall  we  cultivate  for 
 the  sake  of  having  a  collection  of  beautiful 
 flowers  ?  shall  we  cultivate  laboriously  for 
 the  sake  of  having  a  heap  of  rich  and  de- 
 licious fruit  ?  shall  we  train  and  discipline 
 regularly  for  the  sake  of  having  a  rich 
 jandscape  of  vegetable  beauty  ?  and  shall 
 5iot  the  mind  be  cultivated,  when  the 
 narvest  to  be  reaped  is  spiritual  beauty, 
 moral  excellence,  eternal  advantages  ? 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 EDUCATIOIT  (Religious)— Parental. 
 
 If  you  should  certainly  know  that  in 
 five  years  hence  your  boy,  who  is  now  a 
 little  child,  would  fall  into  a  deep  river  all 
 alone,  you  would  not  wait  till  the  event 
 should  happen  ere  you  prepared  to  meet  it. 
 You  would  begin  now  the  process  which 
 would  be  safety  then.  Your  child  cannot 
 swim,  and  you  are  not  qualified  to  teach 
 him ;  but  forthwith  you  would  acquire  the 
 art  yourself,  that  you  might  coninmuicate 
 it  to  him,  and  that  he  might  be  prepared 
 to  meet  the  emergency.  Now,  beyond  all 
 pcradventure,  your  child,  if  he  survive,  will 
 in  a  few  years  be  plunged  into  a  sea  of 
 wickedness,  through  which  he  must  swim 
 for  his  life.  Nothing  but  right  moral 
 principles,  obtained  from  the  Bible,  and  in- 
 durated by  early  training  into  a  confirmed 
 habit,  will  give  him  the  necessary  buoy- 
 ancy. Hence,  as  yon  <vould  preserve  your 
 child  from  sinking  through  the  sea  of  sin 
 into  final  perdition,  you  are  bound  to 
 qualify  yourself  for  training  him  up  in  the 
 way  he  should  go.  Arnot. 
 
 We  are  under  ohligations,  as  believers, 
 to  educate  our  children  for  the  Lord ;  and 
 in  doing  this  we  are  to  seize  every  oppor- 
 tunity, from  their  earliest  years,  to  remind 
 them  that  their  names  have  been  given  to 
 Christ,  that  they  owe  Him  allegiance,  that 
 they  are  enlisted  in  His  armj',  and  are  to 
 fight  under  His  colours.  As  they  advance 
 a  little  toward  early  youth,  we  are  to 
 renew  and  redouble  these  impressions,  as- 
 suring them  that  they  stand  in  a  different 
 relation  to  the  Church  from  other  young 
 persons ;  that  they  can  never  destroy  the 
 providential  connection  except  by  rebellion 
 or  apostasy ;  and  that  every  hour  they  live 
 for  the  world  they  are  robbing  Christ  of 
 His  own.  This  we.  should  teach  them; 
 and  if  we  begin  early  and  continue  un- 
 rciiiittingly,  we  shall  certainly  and  fully 
 
 escape  that  shyness  in  regard  to  rpligioii 
 which  makes  it  harder  for  some  parents  to 
 speak  to  their  own  children  than  to  all 
 persons  besides.  The  great  matter,  how- 
 ever, which  I  urge,  is  the  deliberate  intent 
 of  the  parent  respecting  the  child's  train- 
 ing: — "This  child  is  Christ's;  and  for 
 Christ's  warfare  have  I  entered  him  and 
 am  now  rearing  him.  God  grant  that  he 
 may  grow  up  as  a  young  tree  planted  in 
 the  courts  of  the  Lord !  that  she  may  shine 
 as  the  brilliant  corner-stone  of  the  palace 
 or  the  altar !"  W.  L.  Alexander. 
 
 EDUCATION  (Religious)— Time  for. 
 
 Seize  the  opportunity  while  it  lasts  be- 
 fore the  child  is  inured  to  evil,  and  the 
 sinful  habit  is  formed.  Act  like  the  skilful 
 physician,  who  tells  you  to  apply  for  medical 
 aid  while  the  disease  is  in  its  incipient 
 state,  and  not  to  delay  until  the  malady 
 has  seized  upon  the  vital  organs,  and  is 
 out  of  the  reach  of  medicine.  Now  is  the 
 time  to  apply  the  moral  medicine  (for 
 there  is  balm  in  Gilead,  and  there  is  a 
 Physician  there),  and  let  it  be  so  applied 
 as  that  it  work  freely  in  these  young  hearts, 
 for  their  healing  and  salvation. 
 
 Br.  E.  Neivton. 
 
 Youth  is  the  best  season  for  communi- 
 cating knowledge.  If,  for  instance,  you 
 wish  your  son  to  learn  a  business,  you 
 send  him  to  acquire  it  in  the  period  of  his 
 youth;  if  languages  are  to  be  mastered, 
 you  admit  the  advantage  of  begiiming 
 them  while  young ;  and  so  it  is  with  trades 
 and  pi-ofessions.  Now,  men  know  this, 
 and  act  accordingly  in  matters  relating  to 
 this  life.  And  shall  men  of  this  world  be 
 "  wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children 
 of  light  ?"  Surely  Christianity  is  a  science, 
 whose  interest  and  importance  are  im- 
 measurably above  every  other.  Chris- 
 tianity is  the  Divine  science  of  human 
 salvation.  0 !  then,  begin  to  teach  your 
 children  this  Divine  science  while  they  are 
 yet  young.  Ibid. 
 
 If  man  he  trained  in  early  life  to  right 
 habits — habits  of  religion,  habits  of  virtue, 
 truth,  righteousness,  and  piety — it  is  to  be 
 expected  that  these  habits,  being  truly 
 formed,  will  grow  with  his  growth,  and 
 strengthen  with  his  strength.  We  have 
 seen  this  principle  repeatedly  illustrated. 
 For  example,  you  have  perhaps  inserted 
 characters  in  the  tender  bark  of  the  young 
 tree;  and  if  you  return  to  the  tree  in  the 
 next  season,  you  then  find  that  these  cha- 
 racters have  become  wider  and  deeper  than 
 they  were  when  you  placed  them  there. 
 So  "is  it  with  the  character  of  truth  im- 
 printed in  the  young  and  tender  mind.  It 
 has  been  remarked  that  a  vessel  generally 
 retains  the  savour  of  the  liquid  with  which 
 
EDUCATION— ELECTION. 
 
 293 
 
 it  was  first  seasoned  so  long  as  any  part  of 
 the  vessel  remains.  How  true  does  this 
 observation  apply  to  the  mental  constitu- 
 tion of  youth  !  And  how  important,  then, 
 that  it  should  have  the  seasoning  of  the 
 right  kind — the  seasoning  of  true  piety, 
 love  to  God  and  love  to  man !  A  distin- 
 guished metaphysician  had  observed  that 
 "  of  all  the  men  passing  through  life,  nine 
 out  of  ten  are  what  they  are,  virtuous  or 
 vicious,  religious  or  irreligious,  according 
 to  their  education  during  the  period  of 
 childhood  and  youth."         Br.  E.  Neivtoii. 
 
 EDUCATION,  INSTRUCTION,  A  ND  BREED- 
 ING. 
 
 Instruction  and  breeding  are  to  educa- 
 tion as  parts  to  a  whole — the  instruction 
 respects  tiie  communication  of  knowledge, 
 and  breeding  respects  the  manners  or  out- 
 ward conduct ;  but  education  comprehends 
 not  only  both  these,  but  the  formation  of 
 the  mind,  the  regulation  of  the  heart,  and 
 the  establishment  of  the  principles;  good 
 instruction  makes  one  wiser;  good  breed- 
 ing makes  one  more  polished  and  agree- 
 able; good  education  makes  one  really 
 good.  A  want  of  education  will  always  be 
 to  the  injury  if  not  to  the  ruin  of  the 
 sufleier;  a  want  of  instruction  is  of  more 
 0)\less  inconvenience,  according  to  circum- 
 stances ;  a  want  of  breeding  only  unfits  a 
 man  for  the  society  of  the  cultivated. 
 Education  belongs  to  the  period  of  child- 
 hood and  youth ;  instruction  may  be  given 
 at  different  ages;  good  breeding  is  best 
 learnt  in  the  early  part  of  life.      G.  Crahb. 
 
 EFFECT  AND  CONSEQUENCE. 
 
 li^ffect  and  consequence  agree  in  express- 
 ing that  which  follows  anything,  but  the 
 former  marks  which  follows  from  a  con- 
 nection between  the  two  objects;  tlie  con- 
 sequence is  not  thus  limited :  the  effect  is 
 that  which  necessarily  flows  out  of  the 
 cause,  between  which  the  connection  is  so 
 intimate  that  we  cannot  think  of  the  one 
 M-ithout  the  other.  In  the  nature  of  things 
 cause  will  have  effects;  and  for  every 
 eliect  tliere  will  be  a  cause :  the  conse- 
 quence, on  the  other  hand,  may  be  either 
 casual  or  natural;  it  is  that  on  which  we 
 can  calculate.  Effect  applies  either  to 
 physical  or  moral  objects,  consequence  only 
 to  moral  subjects. 
 
 There  are  many  diseases  which  are  the 
 effects  of  mere  intemperance ;  an  impi  U 
 dent  step  in  one's  firsc  setting  out  in  bfo 
 is  often  attendpd  with  fatal  consequences. 
 A  mild  answer  lias  the  effect  of  turning 
 away  wrath :  the  loss  of  character  is  the 
 general  conseqtience  of  an  irregular  life. 
 
 Ibid. 
 EGOTISM. 
 
 I   recollect  that   when  Mr. wrote 
 
 his  own  life,  the  pronoun  I  occurred  so 
 often  in  it,  that  the  printer  was  obliged  to 
 borrow  I's  from  his  brother  printers,  as  his 
 I's  had  run  out.  Br.  A.  Clarke. 
 
 EGOTIST— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  etymology  of  an  egotist  may  be 
 rendered  tlms :  One  of  those  gluttonous 
 parts  of  speech,  that  gulp  down  every  sub- 
 stantive in  the  social  grammar  into  its 
 personal  pronoun,  condensing  all  the  tenses, 
 moods,  and  voices  of  other  people's  verbs, 
 into  a  first  person  singular  of  its  own. 
 Example  :  "  I  myself  saw  it  with  my  own 
 eyes,  and  nobody  else  but  me,  I  say !" 
 
 "  I  was  to  dine  with  the  admiral,"  said 
 such  a  one  to  a  brotlier  officer  as  they  met 
 in  the  street;  "  but  I've  so  many  cards  for 
 to-night,  I  can't  go." 
 
 "  I  received  the  same  invitation,"  said 
 his  friend ;  "  and  I'll  apologise  for  you." 
 
 "  Don't  trouble  yourself;  pray  don't — " 
 
 "  I  must  if  you  don't  come  ;  fur  the 
 admiral's  invitation,  you  know,  is  like 
 royalty's— a  command." 
 
 "  Don't  mention  my  name." 
 
 "  I  certainly  must,"  said  his  friend,  as 
 they  shook  hands  to  separate. 
 
 "  I  say,"  at  length  stammered  out  the 
 hero  of  a  hundred  cards,  "  don't  say  a  word 
 about  me ;  I — I  had  a  hint  to  stay  away." 
 
 "  A  hint !  how  so  ?  " 
 
 "  I  wasn't  invited." 
 
 "No!"  said  his  friend,  "not  invited! 
 "Well,  I  said  I  had  received  the  same  invi- 
 tation, for  neither  ivas  I ;  but  I  wanted  to 
 see  how  it  lay  between  us."      J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 ELECTION— Christian. 
 
 In  the  smiling  plains  of  primitive  Chris- 
 tianity, you  have  God's  election  without 
 Calvin's  reprobation.  Here  Christ  chooses 
 the  Jews,  without  rejecting  the  Gentiles, 
 and  elects  Peter,  James,  and  John  to  the 
 enjoyment  of  peculiar  privileges,  without 
 reprobating  Matthew,  Thomas,  and  Simon. 
 Here  nobody  is  damned  for  not  doing  im- 
 possibilities, or  for  doing  what  he  could 
 not  possibly  help.  Here  all  that  are  saved 
 enjoy  rewards  through  the  merits  of  Christ, 
 aci^ording  to  the  degrees  of  evangelical  obe- 
 dience, which  the  Lord  enables,  not  forces, 
 them  to  perform.  Here  free  wrath  never 
 appeared;  all  our  damnation  is  of  ourselves, 
 when  "  we  neglect  such  great  salvation." 
 by  obstinately  refusing  to  "  work  it  out 
 with  fear  and  trembling."  But  this  is  not 
 all :  here  free  grace  does  not  rejoice  over 
 stocks,  but  over  men,  who  gladly  confess 
 that  their  salvation  is  all  of  God.  who,  for 
 Christ's  sake,  rectifies  their  free  agency, 
 helps  their  infirmities,  and  "  works  in  them 
 to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure." 
 
 J.  Fletcher. 
 
ELECTION. 
 
 ELECTION- General. 
 
 According  to  the  cTisponsation  of  the 
 "  saving  grace  of  God  whicli  bath  appeared 
 to  all  men ;"  so  long  as  "  the  day  of  salva- 
 tion" lasts,  all  men  are  sincerely  called, 
 and,  therefore,  sincerely  chosen,  to  believe 
 in  their  light,  to  fear  God,  and  to  work 
 righteousness.  This  general  election  and 
 calling  may  be  illustrated  by  the  general 
 benevolence  of  a  good  king  towards  all  his 
 subjects.  Whether  they  are  peasants  or 
 courtiers,  he  elects  them  all  to  loyalty; 
 that  is,  he  chooses  that  they  all  should  be 
 loyal ;  and,  in  consequence  of  this  choice, 
 by  his  royal  statutes  he  calls  them  all  to 
 be  so.  But  when  a  rebellion  breaks  out, 
 many  do  not  "  make  their  calling  and 
 election  sure ;"  that  is,  many  join  the 
 rebels,  and,  in  so  doing,  forfeit  their  titles 
 and  lives.  However,  as  many  as  oppose 
 the  rebels  become  hereby  peculiarly  enti- 
 tled to  the  privileges  of  loyal  subjects, 
 which  are  greater  or  less  according  to 
 their  rank,  and  according  to  the  boroughs 
 or  cities  of  which  they  have  the  freedom. 
 Upon  this  general  plan,  as  many  of  Adam's 
 sons  as,  in  any  part  of  the  earth,  make 
 God's  general  "  calling  and  election"  sure, 
 by  actually  fearing  God,  &c.,  are  reward- 
 able  elect,  according  to  the  Father's  dis- 
 pensation; that  is,  God  actually  approves 
 of  them,  considered  as  obedient  souls ;  and 
 He  designs  eternally  to  reward  their  sin- 
 cere obedience,  "  if  they  continue  faithful 
 unto  death"  (Col.  i,  23;  Rev.  ii,  10).  Ibid. 
 
 ELECTION— Meaning  of. 
 
 1.  It  signifies  the  act  of  God  in  taking 
 a  whole  nation,  a  community,  or  a  body  of 
 men  into  external  covenant  with  Him  and 
 giving  them  the  advantage  of  a  revelation 
 from  Himself  as  a  means  of  their  enlighten- 
 ment, and  for  the  accomplishment  of  cer- 
 tain gracious  designs  for  the  good  of  the 
 world  ;  as,  for  instance,  the  Jews  (Deut. 
 vii,  6). 
 
 2.  The  choice  of  certain  individuals  to 
 particular  offices,  as  Abraham  to  be  the 
 Father  of  the  Faithful  ;  Moses  to  be 
 Leader  of  Israel ;  Samuel  to  be  Judge  in 
 Israel ;  David  to  be  King  over  Israel  ; 
 Aaron  to  be  Priest ;  Paul,  &C!.,  to  be 
 Apostles. 
 
 3.  That  separation  which  God  makes 
 between  His  people  and  the  ungodly 
 (John  XV,  19). 
 
 4.  That  exercise  of  His  mercy  and  grace 
 in  Jesus  by  which  He  chooses  to  save  all 
 who  obey  the  Gospel  call,  in  the  repentance 
 of  their  sins,  and  the  exercise  of  faith  in 
 Christ;  and  who  remain  steadfast,  immov- 
 able, and  always  abounding  in  the  work  of 
 the  Lord,  unto  the  end.  John  Bate. 
 
 Our  Lord  concludes  the  parable  of  the 
 
 wedding  guest  by  saying,  "  Many  are 
 called,  but  few  are  chosen."  Now  the 
 word  "chosen"  or  "elect" — for  they  are 
 the  same  word  in  the  original  —  is  one 
 which  has  given  rise  to  great  disputes  and 
 much  perplexity.  But  all  of  this  is  owing 
 chiefly  to  a  misapprehension  of  the  real 
 character  of  our  sacred  writings,  which 
 are  not  scientific  treatises,  but  popular 
 addresses,  in  which  each  word  is  to  be 
 understood  indeed,  in  the  place  where  it 
 occurs,  but  understood  in  reference  to  the 
 context— to  the  writer's  object  in  the  very 
 passage  where  it  occurs.  It  is  not  so  in 
 a  scientific  treatise.  In  a  treatise,  for  in- 
 stance, of  Mathematics,  or  Chemistry,  or 
 Anatomy,  we  expect  to  find  each  term 
 that  pertains  to  the  subject  confined  to  its 
 strict  technical  sense,  and  always  employed 
 in  that  sense.  And  the  student,  if  asked 
 what  is  a  triangle,  or  a  circle — what  is 
 hydrogen,  or  oxygen — what  is  a  muscle, 
 what  is  a  nerve,  &c.,  is  expected  to  be  able 
 to  answer  correctly  witliout  reference  to 
 any  particular  passage.  But  it  is  quite 
 otherwise  with  the  writings  of  the  Evan- 
 gelists and  Apostles,  who  were  not  com- 
 posing regular  systems  of  scholastic  theo- 
 logy, but  popular  narrative  and  popular 
 instruction.  And  if,  therefore,  any  sensible 
 man  well  acquainted  with  the  real  cha- 
 racter of  their  writings  is  asked,  "  What 
 is  the  meaning  of  this  or  that  word?"  he 
 will  reply  by  asking,  "  In  what  passage?" 
 If,  for  instance,  he  is  asked  who  are  the 
 elect  (or  chosen)  ?  he  will  say.  Chosen  to 
 ivhat  1  In  the  parable  of  the  wedding 
 feast  the  guests  first  bidden  represent  the 
 Jews ;  and  these  are  perpetually  called  in 
 Scripture  God's  "  chosen  people."  But  to 
 what  were  they  chosen  ?  Evidently  to  be 
 favoured  with  a  Divine  revelation  of  the 
 true  God,  and  to  be  the  keepers  of  his 
 oracles,  and  to  have  the  Gospel  first 
 preached  to  them.  But  those  of  them 
 who  provoked  God  in  the  wilderness,  and 
 refused  to  enter  into  the  promised  land, 
 were  cast  off  by  Him,  and  not  allowed  to 
 "  enter  into  His  rest."  And  their  descend- 
 ants, having  rejected  and  crucified  the 
 Holy  One,  were  destroyed  as  a  nation,  and 
 scattered  over  the  face  of  the  whole  earth, 
 as  it  is  this  day.  And  lastly,  when  the 
 poor  travellers  on  the  highway  were  called 
 to  partake  of  the  feast,  this  was  from  the 
 free  choice  and  election  of  the  bountiful 
 host ;  but  the  ungrateful  guest  who  would 
 not  put  on  the  wedding  garment  was  cast 
 out.  Those  only  were  chosen  to  be  allowed 
 to  remain  partakers  who  wore  that  gar- 
 ment. Archbishop  Whateley. 
 
 ELECTION— Proof  of  Personal. 
 
 It  would  be  a  poor  proof  that  I  were  on 
 my  voyage  to  India,  that,  with  glowing 
 eloquence  and    thrilling  poetry,   I   could 
 
ELECTION— ELOQUENCE. 
 
 discourse  on  tlie  palm  f!:roves  and  spice 
 isles  of  the  East.  Ain  1  on  the  waters  ? 
 Is  the  sail  hoisted  to  the  wind?  and  does 
 the  land  of  my  birth  look  bluo  and  faint 
 in  the  distance?  The  doctrine  of  election 
 may  have  done  harm  to  many,  but  only  be- 
 cause they  have  fancied  themselves  elected 
 to  the  end.  and  have  forgotten  that  those 
 whom  Scripture  calls  elected  are  elected 
 to  the  means.  The  Bible  never  speaks  of 
 men  as  elected  to  be  saved  Irom  the  ship- 
 wreck, but  only  as  elected  to  tighten  the 
 ropes  and  hoist  the  sails  and  stand  at  the 
 rudder.  Let  a  man  search  faithfully :  let 
 him  see  that  when  Scripture  describes 
 Christians  as  elected,  it  is  as  elected  to 
 faith,  as  elected  to  sanctification,  as  elected 
 to  obedience ;  and  the  doctrine  of  election 
 will  be  nothing  but  a  stimulus  to  cftbrt. 
 It  will  not  act  as  a  soporitic.  I  shall  cut 
 away  the  boat,  and  let  drive  all  human 
 devices,  and  gird  myself,  amid  the  fierce- 
 ness of  the  tempest,  to  steer  the  shattered 
 vessel  into  port.  H.  Melvill. 
 
 Make  your  calling  sure,  and  by  that  your 
 election ;  for  that  being  done,  this  follows 
 of  itself.  We  are  not  to  pry  immediately 
 into  the  decree,  but  to  read  it  in  the  per- 
 formance. Though  the  mariner  sees  not 
 the  pole-star,  yet  the  needle  of  the  com- 
 pass, which  points  to  it,  tells  him  which  way 
 lie  sails  ;  thus,  the  heart  which  is  touched 
 with  the  loadstone  of  Divine  love,  trem- 
 bling with  godly  fear,  and  yet  still  looking 
 towards  God  by  fixed  believing,  points  at 
 the  love  of  election,  tells  the  soul  that  its 
 course  is  heavenward,  towards  the  haven 
 of  eternal  rest.  He  that  loves  may  be 
 sure  that  he  was  loved  first,  and  he  that 
 chooses  God  for  his  delight  and  portion 
 may  conclude,  confidently,  that  God  hath 
 chosen  him  to  be  one  of  those  that  shall 
 enjoy  Him,  and  be  happy  in  Him  for  ever; 
 for  that  our  love  and  electing  of  Him  is 
 but  the  return  of  the  beams  of  His  love 
 shining  upon  us.  Leighton. 
 
 ELECTION  OF  GRACE— Definition  of. 
 
 By  the  "  election  of  grace,"  understand 
 the  free  and  merely  gratuitous  choice 
 which  God,  as  a  wise  and  sovereign  Bene- 
 factor, arbitrarily  makes  of  this,  that,  or 
 the  other  man  to  bestow  upon  him  one, 
 two,  or  five  talents  of  free  grace. 
 
 J.  Fletcher. 
 
 ELOQUENCE —Associates  of. 
 
 Eloquence  is  the  companion  of  peace,  the 
 associate  of  a  life  of  leisure.  Cicero. 
 
 ELOQUENCE— Charms  of. 
 
 Oh  !  speak  that  again ! 
 Sweet  as  the  syren's  tongue  those  accents 
 
 fall, 
 And  charm  me  to  my  ruin.  Southern. 
 
 ELOQUENCE— Charms  of. 
 
 Your  words  are  like  the  notes  of  dying 
 
 swans. 
 Too  sweet  to  last.  Dryden. 
 
 There's  a  charm  in  deliv'ry,  a  magical  art. 
 
 That  thrills,  like  a  kiss,  from  the  lip  to  the 
 heart ; 
 
 'Tis  the  glance — the  expression — the  well- 
 chosen  word 
 
 By  whose  magic  the  depths  of  the  spirit 
 are  stirr'd; 
 
 The  smile — the  mute  gesture — the  soul- 
 stirring  pause — 
 
 The  eye's  sweet  expression  that  melts  while 
 it  awes — 
 
 The  lip's  soft  persuasion — its  musical  tone  ; 
 
 Oh  !  such  were  the  charms  of  that  eloquent 
 one !  Mrs.  A.  B.  Welhy. 
 
 His  tongue 
 Dropp'd  manna,  and  could  make  the  worst 
 
 appear 
 The  better  reason,  to  perplex  and  dash 
 Maturest  counsels.  Milton. 
 
 ELOQUENCE— Power  of. 
 
 1  happened  to  attend  one  of  the  sermons 
 of  Mr.  Whitfield,  in  the  course  of  which 
 I  perceived  he  intended  to  finish  with  a 
 collection,  and  I  silently  resolved  he  should 
 get  nothing  from  me.  I  had  in  my  pocket 
 a  handful  of  copper  money,  three  or  four 
 silver  dollars,  and  five  pistoles  in  gold.  As 
 he  proceeded  I  began  to  soften,  and  con- 
 cluded to  give  the  copper.  Another  stroke 
 of  his  oratory  made  me  ashamed  of  that, 
 and  determined  me  to  give  the  silver ;  and 
 he  finished  so  admirably,  that  I  emptied 
 my  pocket  wholly  into  the  collector's  dish, 
 — gold  and  all.  At  this  sermon  there 
 was  also  one  of  our  club  ;  who,  being  of 
 my  sentiments  respecting  the  building  in 
 Georgia,  and  suspecting  a  collection  might 
 be  intended,  had,  by  precaution,  emptied 
 his  pockets  before  he  came  from  home. 
 Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  discourse, 
 however,  he  felt  a  strong  inclination  to 
 give,  and  applied  to  a  neighbour,  who 
 stood  near  him,  to  lend  him  some  money 
 for  the  purpose.  The  request  was  made 
 to,  perhaps,  the  only  man  in  the  company 
 who  had  the  coldness  not  to  be  afl'ected  by 
 the  preacher.  His  answer  was,  "  At  any 
 other  time,  friend  Hodgkinson,  I  would 
 lend  to  thee  freely,  but  not  now,  for  thee 
 seems  to  be  out  of  thy  right  senses." 
 
 Franklin. 
 
 His  words  seem'd  oracles 
 That  picrc'd  their  bosoms;  and  each  man 
 
 would  turn 
 And   gaze  in  wonder  on   his   neighbour's 
 
 face, 
 That  with  the  like  dumb  wonder  answer'd 
 
 him. 
 
296 
 
 ELOaUEKCE— ENEMIES, 
 
 Ton  conld  have  heard 
 
 The  beating  of  your  pulses  while  he  spoke. 
 
 Crohj. 
 ELOQUENCE— Pulpit. 
 
 In  pulpit  eloquence  the  grand  difficulty 
 lies  here — to  give  the  subject  all  the  dig- 
 nity it  so  fully  deserves,  without  attaching 
 any  importance  to  ourselves.  The  Chris- 
 tian messenger  cannot  think  too  highly  of 
 his  Prince,  nor  too  humbly  of  himself.  This 
 is  that  secret  art  which  captivates  and  im- 
 proves an  audience,  and  wliich  all  who  see 
 will  fimcy  thoy  could  imitate,  while  most 
 who  try  will  fail.  C.  Colton. 
 
 ELCQUEE-CE— Way  to. 
 
 I  owe  my  success  in  life  to  one  single 
 fact,  namely :  At  the  age  of  twenty-seven 
 I  commenced,  and  continued  for  years,  the 
 process  of  daily  reading  and  speaking  upon 
 the  contents  of  some  historical  or  scientific 
 book.  These  off-hand  efforts  were  made 
 sometimes  in  a  corn-field,  at  others  in  the 
 forest-,  and  not  unfrequently  in  some  dis- 
 tant barn,  with  the  horse  and  ox  for  my 
 auditors.  It  is  to  this  early  practice  in 
 the  great  art  of  all  arts  that  I  am  indebted 
 for  the  primary  and  leading  impulses  that 
 stimulated  me  ibrvvard,  and  shaped  and 
 moulded  my  entire  subsequent  destiny. 
 Improve,  then,  young  gentlenien,  the  su- 
 perior advantages  you  here  enjoy.  Let 
 not  a  day  pass  without  exercising  your 
 powers  of  speech.  There  is  no  power  like 
 that  of  oratory.  Ca3sar  controlled  men  by 
 exciting  their  fears ;  Cicero,  by  captivating 
 their  affections  and  swaying  their  passions. 
 The  influence  of  the  one  perished  with  its 
 author;  that  of  the  other  continues  to  this 
 day.  Ilcnrt/  Clai/. 
 
 ELOQUEITCE  AIID  CHARITY— Power  of. 
 
 St.  Paul,  by  his  eloquence  in  Gospel 
 truths,  caused  the  mighty  Agrippa  to  con- 
 fess in  open  court,  before  the  assembled 
 people  and  "  most  noble  Festus,"  that 
 "almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a 
 Christian."  And  then,  by  the  Divine 
 charity  wdiich  reigned  within  him,  St. 
 Paul  declared  his  wish  that  Agrippa  was 
 altogether  like  himself,  except  the  bonds. 
 He  desired  him  to  have  as  much  happi- 
 ness and  purity  as  he  had,  from  Christ, 
 but  none  of  the  bondage  which  he  had 
 from  men.  Was  not  this  a  triumph  of 
 the  spiiit  of  Christianity  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 EMPIEE  AND  EEIGJJ. 
 
 Empire  is  used  more  properly  for  the 
 people  or  nations  ;  reign  for  the  individuals 
 who  hold  the  power  :  hence  we  say  the 
 empire  of  the  Assyrians,  or  of  the  Turks; 
 the  reign  of  the  Casars,  or  the  Paleologi. 
 The  glorious  epocha  of  the  empire  of  the 
 Babyioniaus  is  the  reign  of  Nebuchadnezzar; 
 
 that  of  the  empire  of  the  Persians  is  the 
 rrign  of  Cyrus ;  that  of  the  empire  of  the 
 Greeks  is  the  reign  of  Alexander ;  that  of 
 the  Romans  is  the  reign  of  Augustus : 
 these  are  the  four  great  empires  foretold 
 by  the  prophet  Daniel ;  it  is  neither  long 
 reigns,  nor  their  frequent  changes,  which 
 occasion  their  fall ;  it  is  the  abuse  of  power. 
 G.  Crulb. 
 EMULATIOSr— :5TeccEsity  of. 
 
 Although  there  may  be  some  degree  of 
 pride  in  emulation,  yet  a  laudable  ambition 
 should  always  be  encouraged,  especially  in 
 youth,  for  without  this  they  will  never  rise 
 to  eminence  in  anything.  V\hen  we  think 
 of  some  of  the  greatest  generals,  historians, 
 or  poets,  what  was  it  but  emulation  that 
 brought  them  to  excel  others  ?  In  short, 
 without  emulation,,  we  sink  into  meaimess 
 or  mediocrity,  for  nothing  great  or  excel- 
 lent can  be  done  without  it.    /.  Beaumont. 
 
 EMULATIOJr— Nobleness  of. 
 
 Emulation  is  a  noble  passion ;  it  is  en- 
 terprising, but  it  is  just ;  it  makes  the  con- 
 quest for  glory  fair  and  generous.  True 
 emulation  consists  in  striving  to  excel  in 
 everything  counnendable ;  it  raises  itself, 
 but  not  by  depre-ssing  others.  Ibid. 
 
 EMULATIOiT  ABD  ENVY. 
 
 Emulation  admires  great  actions,  and 
 strives  to  imitate  tlsem;  envy  refuses  tb.em 
 the  praises  that  are  their  due ;  emulation 
 is  generous,  and  only  thinks  of  equalling 
 or  surpassing  a  rival ;  envy  is  low,  and  oidy 
 seeks  to  lessen  him.  C.  Buck. 
 
 ENEMIES— Conquering. 
 
 In  attacking  the  Mamelukes  in  Egypt, 
 Napoleon  perceived  the  wing  of  the  army 
 where  tlieir  guns  would  not  be  available; 
 to  that  particular  part  he  directed  his  aim, 
 and  succeeded  in  gaining  the  victory.  So, 
 in  contending  with  our  enemies  in  life, 
 whether  visible  or  invisible,  let  us  ascer- 
 tain tlie  most  exposed  and  weak  side,  and 
 in  that  direction  bend  the  eflorts  of  our 
 warfare.  John  Bate. 
 
 ENEMIES— Discovery  of. 
 
 A  Christian  should  not  discover  that  he 
 has  enemies  by  any  other  way  than  by 
 doing  more  good  to  them  than  to  others. 
 "  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  ;  if  he 
 thirst,  give  him  driuk."       Bp.  T.  Wilson. 
 
 ENEMIES  OF  OUHSELVES. 
 
 There  is  no  enemy  can  hurt  us  but  by 
 our  own  hands.  Satan  could  not  hurt  u.s, 
 if  our  own  corruption  betrayed  us  not ; 
 afflictions  cannot  hurt  us  without  our  own 
 impatience  ;  temptations  cannot  hurt  us, 
 without  our  own  yieldance  ;  death  could 
 not  hurt  us,  without  the  sting  of  our  owa 
 
EITSI.IY— EITEEGY. 
 
 297 
 
 sins;  sins  could  not  hurt  us  witliout  our 
 own  impenitence.  J3p.  Hall. 
 
 ENEilY— Face  your. 
 
 Snakes  are  some  of  tlie  most  dangerous 
 foes  tliitt  Europeans  linve  to  cope  with  in 
 tlie  tropics.  A  traveller  of  the  name  of 
 Ei'.illie  one  morning  startled  his  companions 
 by  the  dreadful  cry  of  "  A  snake  !  a  snake  ! 
 look  !  "  They  all  stared  at  him  as  he  was 
 lying  in  his  hammock,  and,  to  their  as- 
 tonishment, beheld  a  monstrous  serpent 
 tuisted  round  the  rope  wliich  sujiported 
 his  hannnock,  witli  its  head  at  some  dis- 
 tance, darting  out  its  forked  tongue,  and 
 examining  hira  as  he  lay  stretched  below. 
 "  Lie  still,"  cried  tlie  fiscal ;  "  he  won't 
 hurt  you  ;"  and,  calling  in  two  or  three 
 of  the  natives,  he  pointed  it  out  tn  them. 
 One  of  these  men  advancing  towards  it, 
 caught  its  eye  with  his  own  :  the  animal 
 now  appeared  to  move  its  whole  body  with 
 fear  or  plea:nire.  The  native  stepped  back- 
 wards, without  turning  the  sight  of  his  eye 
 from  the  ilerce  orbit  of  his  enemy  ;  and  as 
 he  kept  backing,  the  snake,  with  its  head 
 steadily  ndvanchig,  gradually  uncoiled  his 
 body  from  the  rope  round  which  it  was 
 twined.  At  length  its  whole  body,  trailing 
 on  the  ground,  moved  slowly  along  after 
 this  coloured  man — eye  fixed  upon  eye — 
 until  a  youth,  making  a  dash  from  behind  a 
 bush,  in  an  instant  flattened  the  head  of 
 til  is  dangerous  monster  with  one  blow  of 
 his  club ;  and  although  the  body  still  un- 
 dulated, like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  it  was 
 now  perfectly  harmless. 
 
 So  let  the  Christian  face  his  enemy  in 
 tlie  courage  of  faith  and  tlie  strength  of 
 Christ,  and  he  shall  be  slain  before  him, 
 and  become  equally  harmless.     John  Bate. 
 
 ElIEMY — Overcoming  an. 
 
 I  once  took  a  nugget  to  a  gnld-melter  to 
 be  assayed.  A  fi'iend  in  the  trade  explained 
 to  me  that  it  was  not  enough  to  subject 
 the  metal  in  the  crucible  to  the  greatest 
 heat  from  under  the  pot — this  would  only 
 heat  the  gold  to  the  furnace  heat,  but  could 
 not  melt  it  into  fluid,  until  the  charcoal 
 was  put  on  the  top  of  the  crucible  as  well 
 as  under  it,  and  then  it  would  be  molten. 
 "  Thus,"  said  he,  "  the  Christian  is  bidden 
 to  soften  down  and  subdue  his  hardest 
 adversary,  in  the  Scriptural  metaphor 
 taken  from  our  trade  :  '  If  thine  enemy 
 hunger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him 
 drink ;  for  in  so  doing,  thou  shalt  heap 
 coals  of  fire  upon,  his  head,'  i.e.,  etiectually 
 melt  and  overcome  him."  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 ENEMY— Treatment  of  an. 
 
 Neglect  an  enemy,  but  contemn  him 
 not.  Disdain  will  banish  patience  and 
 bring  in  fury.  Contempt  unbridles  fear, 
 and  makes  us  both  to  will,  to  dare,  and  to 
 
 execute.  It  is  not  good  too  far  to  pursue  a 
 victory.  We  know  not  what  may  show 
 itself  when  contempt  awakens  a  sleepy 
 mind.  Thou  canst  not  sit  on  so  high  a 
 cog  hut  may,  with  turning,  become  the 
 lowest  in  the  wheel.  If  we  have  enemies 
 it  is  better  to  deserve  their  friendship)  than 
 either  to  despise  or  irritate  them. 
 
 J.  Beaiimoht. 
 
 Feed  him  with  your  own  hand ;  if  it  he 
 needful  even,   put  bread    into  hia  mouth. 
 Heap  coals  of  fire  upon  his  head —  that 
 part  which  is  most  sensible. 
 "  So  artists  melt  the  sullen  ore  of  lead. 
 
 By  heaping  coals  of  fire  upon  its  head ; 
 
 On  the  kind  warmth  tlie  metal  learns  to 
 flow, 
 
 And    pure   from   dross  the    silver   runs 
 below."  J.  Weslei/, 
 
 ElfESGY— Examples  of. 
 
 Dr.  Arnold,  the  Rugby  schoolmaster ; 
 Dr.  Chalmers,  the  mighty  preacher  and 
 social  reformer ;  Robert  Hall,  the  eloquent 
 minister  of  the  Gospel ;  Thomas  Clarkson 
 and  W.  Wilberforce,  champions  of  negro 
 emancipation  ;  AVilliam  Allen  and  John 
 Howard,  philanthropists,  &c.,  &c.,  are 
 noble  specimens  of  modern  energy  in  the 
 pursuits  of  the  great  callings  of  life. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 ENERGY— Genius  of. 
 
 There  is  no  genius  in  life  like  the  genius 
 of  energy  and  activity.  You  will  learu 
 that  all  the  traditions  so  current  among 
 young  men — that  certain  great  characters 
 have  wrought  their  greatness  by  an  in- 
 spiration, as  it  were — grows  out  of  a  great 
 mistake.  And  you  will  further  find,  when 
 you  come  to  measure  yourself  with  men, 
 that  there  are  no  rivals  so  formidable  as 
 those  earnest  determined  minds  which 
 reckon  the  value  of  every  hour,  and  which 
 achieve  eminence  by  persistent  application. 
 Literary  ambition  may  inflame  you  at  cer- 
 tain periods,  and  the  thought  of  some 
 great  name  will  flash  like  a  spark  into  the 
 midst  of  your  purposes ;  you  di-eam  until 
 midnight  over  your  books ;  you  set  up 
 shadows  and  chase  them  down — other 
 shadows  and  they  fly.  Dreaming  will 
 never  catch  them.  Nothing  makes  the 
 "  scent  lie  well "  in  the  hunt  after  dis- 
 tinction, but  labour. 
 
 And  it  is  a  glorious  thing,  when  once 
 you  are  weary  of  the  dissipation  and  ennui 
 of  your  own  aimless  thoughts,  to  take  up 
 some  glowing  page  of  an  earnest  thinker, 
 and  read  deep  and  long  until  you  feel  the 
 metal  of  his  thoughts  tinkling  on  your 
 brain,  and  striking  out  from  your  flinty 
 lethargy  flashes  of  ideas  that  give  mind 
 light  and  l.eat.  And  away  you  go,  in  the 
 chase  of  what  the  soul  within  is  creating 
 
298 
 
 ENMITY— ENVY. 
 
 on  the  instant,  and  j'on  wonder  at  the 
 fecundity  of  what  seemed  so  crude.  The 
 glow  of  toil  wakes  you  to  the  consciousness 
 of  your  real  capacities ;  you  feel  sure  that 
 they  have  taken  a  new  step  towards  final 
 development.  In  such  mood  it  is  that 
 one  feels  grateful  to  the  musty  tomes 
 which,  at  other  hours,  stand  like  curiosity- 
 making  mummies,  with  no  warmth  and  no 
 vitality.  Now  they  grow  into  the  afiec- 
 tions  like  new-found  friends ;  and  gain  a 
 hold  upon  tlie  heart,  and  light  a  tire  in  the 
 brain,  that  the  years  and  the  mould  cannot 
 cover  nor  quench.  Ike  Marvel. 
 
 ENMITY  TO  GOD— Evils  of. 
 
 Is  not  aversion  to  delight  in  God  a 
 manifest  contrariety  to  the  order  of  things 
 — a  turning  all  upside  down — a  shattering 
 and  breaking  asunder  the  bond  between 
 rational  appetite  and  the  First  Good — a 
 disjointing  and  unhinging  of  the  best  and 
 noblest  part  of  God's  creation  from  its 
 station  and  rest,  its  proper  basis  and 
 centre  ?  How  fearful  a  rupture  doth  it 
 make !  how  violent  and  destructive  a  dis- 
 location !  If  you  could  break  in  pieces 
 the  orderly  contexture  of  the  whole  uni- 
 verse within  itself,  reduce  the  frame  of 
 nature  to  utmost  confusion,  rout  all  the 
 ranks  and  orders  of  cre;)tures,  tear  asunder 
 the  heavens,  and  dissolve  the  compacted 
 body  of  the  earth,  mingle  heaven  and 
 earth  together,  and  resolve  the  world  into 
 a  mere  heap — you  had  not  done  so  great  a 
 spoil  as  in  breaking  the  primary  and  su- 
 preme tie  and  bond  between  the  creature 
 and  his  Maker.  John  Howe. 
 
 ENMITY  TO  GOD  IN  MAN. 
 
 This  may  be  shown — 1.  From  man's  ca- 
 pability of  knowing  God,  and  his  indiffer- 
 ence to  possess  this  knowledge.  2.  Wilful 
 ignorance  of  God.  3.  So  seldom  thinking 
 of  God.  4.  So  little  concerned  about  the 
 favour  of  God.  5.  So  little  converse  and 
 walk  with  God.  6.  The  thoughtlessness 
 concerning  God  which  man  manifests  in  all 
 his  daily  ordinary  affairs.  7.  The  uncom- 
 fortable life  which  he  lives  by  reason  of  his 
 distance  from  God  and  unacquaintedness 
 with  Him.  8.  His  universal  disobedience 
 of  the  Divine  laws.  Ibid. 
 
 ENTHUSIASM— Fruit  of. 
 
 The  artist  Correggio,  when  young,  saw 
 a  painting  by  Raphael.  Long  and  ar- 
 dently did  the  thoughtful  boy  gaze  on  that 
 picture.  His  soul  drank  in  its  beauty,  as 
 flowers  drink  moisture  from  the  mist.  He 
 waked  to  the  consciou^iness  of  artistic  power. 
 Burning  with  the  enthusiasm  of  enkindled 
 genius,  the  blood  rushing  to  his  brow,  and 
 the  fire  flashing  from  his  eyes,  he  cried 
 out,  "  I  also  am  a  painter." 
 
 That  conviction  carried  him  through  his 
 
 initial  studies;  it  blended  the  colours  on 
 his  palette  ;  it  guided  his  pencil ;  it  shone 
 on  his  canvas — until  the  glorious  Titian, 
 on  witnessing  his  productions,  exclaimed, 
 "  Were  I  not  Titian,  1  would  wish  to  be 
 Correggio."  Anon. 
 
 ENTHUSIASM— under  Trials. 
 
 Enthusiasm  is  a  virtue  rarely  to  be  met 
 with  in  seasons  of  calm  and  unruffled  pros- 
 perity. Enthusiasm  flourishes  in  adversity, 
 kindles  in  the  hour  of  danger,  and  awakens 
 to  deeds  of  renown.  The  terrors  of  per- 
 secution only  serve  to  quicken  the  energy 
 of  its  purposes.  It  swells  in  proud  inte- 
 grity, and,  great  in  the  purity  of  its  cause, 
 it  can  scatter  defiance  amidst  hosts  of  ene- 
 mies. Dr.  Chainlets. 
 
 ENVY— Abode  of. 
 
 Then  straight  to  Envy's  cell  she  bends  her 
 
 way. 
 Which  all  with  putrid  gore  infected  lay. 
 Deep  in  a  gloomy  cave's  obscure  recess. 
 No  beams  could  e'er  that  horrid  mansion 
 
 bless ; 
 No  breeze  e'er  fann'd  it ;   but    about   it 
 
 roll'd 
 Eternal  woes,  and  ever  lazy  cold ; 
 No    spark    shone    there,   but    everlasting 
 
 gloom. 
 Impenetrably  dark,  obscur'd  the  room. 
 
 Andrew  Tooke. 
 
 ENVY— Blindness  of. 
 
 Envy  makes  us  see  what  will  serve  to 
 accuse  others,  and  not  perceive  what  may 
 justify  them.  £p.  T.  Wilson. 
 
 ENVY — Denominational. 
 
 And  are  not  religious  bodies  some- 
 times guilty  of  this  sin  ?  Has  it  no  exist- 
 ence in  the  breasts  of  professing  Christians 
 of  different  denominations?  Is  there  no 
 envy  in  Dissenters  towards  the  Church  of 
 England,  or  of  the  Church  of  England 
 towards  Dissenters  ?  Of  Baptists  towards 
 Picdobaptists,  Paidobaptists  towards  Bap- 
 tists ?  Of  Methodists  towards  Congrega- 
 tionalists,  and  Congregationalists  towards 
 Methodists  ?  What  meaneth  that  disposi- 
 tion to  suspect  and  traduce  each  other, 
 which  is  but  too  common  amongst  all  the 
 divisions  of  the  Christian  Church  ?  If  one 
 denomination  prospers,  are  not  all  the  rest 
 too  apt  to  look  on  with  envious  eyes,  be- 
 cause theirs  is  likely  to  be  eclipsed  or  di- 
 minished? Are  not  all  the  little  arts  of 
 detraction  most  busily  employed,  and  a 
 hundred  tongues  made  voluble  to  arrest 
 the  progress  and  limit  the  prosperity  of 
 the  rising  sect  ?  And  how  much  of  this 
 spirit  is  often  seen  in  the  conduct  of  rising 
 congregations  of  the  same  denomination  ! 
 What  ill-will  is  often  cherished  by  the 
 members  of  the  declining  cause  towards 
 
ENVY. 
 
 299 
 
 those  of  tlie  prosperous  one,  and  only 
 because  they  are  prosperous !  They  can 
 never  hear  of  the  success  of  their  neighbour 
 society,  their  sister  church,  without  feeling 
 and  appearing  uneasy  and  displeased,  as  if 
 an  injury  were  done  to  them ;  they  profess 
 to  be  incredulous  of  the  fact ;  they  suggest 
 that  it  is  more  in  outward  show  than 
 reality ;  they  do  not  scruple  to  mention 
 drawbacks  in  the  talents,  or  perhaps  the 
 inconsistencies  of  the  minister;  detraction, 
 yea,  even  slander,  is  employed  against  some 
 of  the  members  of  this  prosperous  society, 
 as  it  is  sneeringly  called.  Such  even,  in 
 Christian  churches,  or  rather  in  the  minds 
 of  some  of  their  members,  are  the  operations 
 of  envy.  J.  A.  James. 
 
 ENVY— Description  of. 
 
 And  next  to  him  malicious  Envy  rode 
 Upon   a   ravenous  wolfe,  and   still   did 
 chaw 
 Between   his   cankred  teeth   a  venemous 
 tode 
 That  all  the  poison  run  about  his  chaw ; 
 But  inwardly  he  chawed  his  own  mawe 
 At  neebors  vvelth,  that  made  him  ever  sad; 
 For  death  it  was  when  any  good  he  saw, 
 And  wept  that  cause  of  weeping  none  he 
 
 had; 
 But,  when  he  heard  of  harm,  he  wexed 
 wondrous  glad. 
 
 All  in  a  kirtle  of  discoloured  say 
 
 He  clothed  was,  ypanted  full  of  eies ; 
 And  in  his  bosome  secretly  there  lay 
 
 An   hateful   snake,  the   which   Lis   tail 
 
 uptyes 
 In  many  folds,  and  mortal   styng   im- 
 plyes : 
 Still  as  he  rode,  he  gnasht  his  teeth  to  see 
 Those  heads  of  gold  with  griple  Cove- 
 tyse; 
 And  grudged  at  the  great  felicitie 
 Of  proud  Lucifera,  and  his  own  companie. 
 
 He  hated  all   good  workes   and  virtuous 
 
 deeds. 
 
 And  him  no  lesse  that  any  like  did  use ; 
 
 And,  who  with  gratious  bread  the  hungry 
 
 feeds. 
 
 His   almes   for  want   of  faith  he  doth 
 
 accuse ; 
 So  every  good  to  bad  he  doth  abuse : 
 And  eke  the  verse  of  famous  poets  witt 
 He  doth  backebite,  and  spitefuU  poison 
 spues 
 From  leprous  mouth  on  all  that  ever  writt : 
 Such  one  vile  Envy  was,  that  fifte  in  rowe 
 did  sitt.  Spenser, 
 
 A  deadly  paleness  in  her  cheeks  were  seen ; 
 Her  meagre  skeleton  scarce  cas'd  with  skin ; 
 Her  looks  awry  ;  an  everlasting  scowl 
 Sits  on  her  brow;  her  teeth  deform'd  and 
 foul 
 
 Her  breast  had  gall  more  than  her  breast 
 
 could  hold ; 
 Beneath  her  tongue  coats  of  poison  roU'd ; 
 No  smiles  e'er  smooth'd  her  fun-ow'd  brow 
 
 but  those 
 Wliich  rise  from  common  mischiefs, plagues, 
 
 and  woes ; 
 Her  eyes  were  strangers  to  the  sweets  of 
 
 sleep, 
 Devouring  spite  for  ever  waking  keep ; 
 She  sees  bless'd  men  with  vast  successes 
 
 crown'd. 
 Their  joys  distract  her,  and  their  glories 
 
 wound  : 
 She   kills   abroad,    herself's   consum'd    at 
 
 home. 
 And   her  own   crimes   are   her  perpetual 
 
 martyrdom.  Andrew  TooTce. 
 
 ENVY— Description  and  Origin  of. 
 
 Envy  at  last  crawls  forth  from  hell's  dire 
 
 throng, 
 Of  all  the  direfuU'st !  her  black  locks  hung 
 
 long, 
 Attir'd  with  curling   serpents  j    her  pale 
 
 skin 
 Was  almost  dropp'd  from  her  sharp  bones 
 
 within ; 
 And  at  her  breast  stuck  vipers,  which  did 
 
 prey 
 Upon  her  panting  heart  both  night  and 
 
 day. 
 Sucking  black  blood  from  thence,  which  to 
 
 repair. 
 Both  day  and  night  they  left  fresh  poisons 
 
 there. 
 Her  garments  were  deep-stain'd  in  human 
 
 gore. 
 And  torn  by  her  own  hands,  in  which  she 
 
 bore 
 A  knotted  whip  and  bowl,  which  to  the 
 
 brim 
 Did  with  green  gall  and  juice  of  wormwood 
 
 swim ; 
 With  which,  when   she   was   drunk,    she 
 
 furious  grew. 
 And  lashed  herself:  thus  from  the  accursed 
 
 crew 
 Envy,  the  worst  of  fiends,  herself  presents; 
 Envy,  good  only  when  she  herself  torments. 
 Coiolet). 
 
 Envy  is  the  daughter  of  pride,  the  author 
 of  murder  and  reveng:e,  the  beginner  of 
 secret  sedition,  and  the  perpetual  tor- 
 mentor of  virtue.  Envy  is  the  filthy  slime 
 of  the  soul ;  a  venom,  a  poison,  or  quick- 
 silver which  consumeth  the  flesh,  and  drieth 
 up  the  marrow  of  the  bones.  Socrates. 
 
 Gloating  with  sullen  spite,  the  fury  shook 
 Her  clotted  locks,  and  blasted  with  each 
 
 look; 
 She  tore  with  canker'd  teeth  the  pregnant 
 
 scrolls. 
 Where  fame  the  acts  of  demigods  enrols; 
 
300 
 
 ElIVT. 
 
 She  blazsns  in  dread  snilles  her  hideous 
 
 form ; 
 So  lightning  gilds  the  unrelenting  storm. 
 
 Garth. 
 EITVY— Effects  of. 
 
 As  a  moth  gnaws  a  garment,  so  doth 
 envy  consume  a  man.  Chri/sostom. 
 
 ENVY— Examples  of. 
 
 We  shall  find  it  in  Cain,  the  proto-mur- 
 derer,  who  slew  his  brother  at  the  instiga- 
 tion of  envy.  We  shall  find  it  in  the  dark, 
 and  gloomy,  and  revengeful  spirit  of  Saul, 
 who,  under  the  inlluence  of  envy,  plotted 
 for  years  the  slaughter  of  David.  We  shall 
 find  it  in  the  king  of  Israel,  when  he  pined 
 for  the  vineyard  of  Naboth,  and  shed  his 
 blood  to  gain  it.  Yea,  it  was  envy  that 
 per})etrated  that  most  atrocious  crime  ever 
 planned  in  hell,  or  executed  on  eartli,  on 
 which  the  sun  refused  to  look,  and  at  which 
 nature  gave  signs  of  abhorrence  by  the 
 rending  of  the  rocks — I  mean  the  cruci- 
 fixion of  Christ ;  for  the  evangelist  tells  us, 
 that  for  envy  the  Jews  delivered  our  Lord. 
 J.  A.  James. 
 
 "  Dionysius  the  tyrant,"  says  Plutarch, 
 "out  of  envy,  punished  Philoxenius,  the 
 musician,  because  he  could  sing,  and  Plato, 
 the  philosopher,  because  be  could  dispute, 
 better  than  himself."  J.  WhUecross. 
 
 EirVY— Food  of. 
 
 Envy,  like  the  worm,  never  runs  but  to 
 the  fairest  fruit :  like  a  cunning  blood- 
 hound, it  singles  out  the  fattest  deer  in  the 
 Hock.  Abraham's  riches  were  the  Philis- 
 tines' envy;  and  Jacob's  blessing  bred 
 Esau's  hatred.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 ENVY— without  a  Master. 
 
 They  say  that  love  and  tears  are  learned 
 without  any  master;  and  I  ma;^  say  that 
 there  is  no  great  need  of  studying  at  the 
 court  to  learn  envy  and  revenge. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 ENVY— Ministerial. 
 
 Will  any  workman  malign  another  be- 
 cause he  lielpcth  him  to  do  his  master's 
 work  ?  Yet,  alas,  how  common  is  this 
 heinous  crime  amidst  men  of  parts  and 
 eminency  in  the  Church !  They  can  se- 
 cretly blot  tlie  reputation  of  such  as  stand 
 cross  to  their  own;  and  wliat  they  cannot 
 for  shame  do  in  plain  and  open  terms,  lest 
 they  be  proved  palpable  liars  and  slander- 
 ers, they  will  do  in  general  and  malicious 
 intentions,  raising  suspicions  wdiere  they 
 cannot  fasten  accusations.  And  so  far  are 
 some  gone  in  this  satanical  vice  that  it  is 
 their  common  practice,  and  a  considerable 
 part  of  their  business,  to  keep  down  the 
 estimation  of  those  they  dislike,  and  de- 
 fame others  in  the  slyest  and  most  plausible 
 
 way ;  and  some  go  so  far  that  they  are  un 
 willing  that  any  that  are  abler  than  them- 
 selves should  come  into  their  pulpits,  lesfc 
 they  should  be  applauded  above  themselves. 
 A  fearful  thing  that  any  man  who  hath 
 the  least  of  the  fear  of  God  should  so  envy 
 at  God's  gifts,  and  had  rather  that  his 
 carnal  hearers  were  unconverted,  and  the 
 drowsy  not  awakened,  than  that  it  should 
 be  done  by  another,  who  may  be  preferred 
 before  them.  Yea,  so  far  does  t'tiis  c»u-sed 
 vice  prevail,  that  in  great  congregations, 
 that  have  need  of  the  help  of  many  teachers, 
 we  can  scarcely  get  two  in  equality  to  live 
 together  in  love  and  quietness,  and  unani- 
 mously to  carry  on  tlie  work  of  God!  But 
 unless  one  of  them  be  quite  below  the 
 other  in  parts,  and  content  to  be  so  es- 
 teemed, or  unless  one  be  a  curate  to  the 
 other  and  ruled  by  him,  they  are  contending 
 for  precedency,  and  envying  each  other's 
 interest,  and  walking  with  strangeness  and 
 jealousy  towards  eacli  other,  to  the  shame 
 of  the  profession,  and  the  great  wrong  of 
 the  congregation.  Baxter. 
 
 ENVY— Self-destroying. 
 
 I  remember  reading  somewhere,  in  a 
 Grecian  story,  of  a  man  who  killed  himself 
 through  envy.  His  fellow-citizens  had 
 reared  a  statue  to  one  of  their  number, 
 who  was  a  celebrated  victor  in  the  public 
 games.  So  strong  v/as  the  feeling  of  enwy 
 which  this  excited  in  the  breast  of  one  of 
 the  hero's  rivals,  that  he  went  forth  every 
 night  in  order,  if  possible,  to  destroy  that 
 monument ;  after  repeated  efforts  he  moved 
 it  from  its  pedestal,  and  it  fell,  and  in  its 
 fall  it  crushed  him.  An  unintentional 
 symbolic  act  was  this,  showing  the  suicidal 
 action  of  envy  on  the  soul.  It  is  ever  an 
 element  of  misery,  a  bui'uing  coal  which 
 "comes  hissing  hut  from  hell." 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 ENVY— Spii-it  of. 
 
 To  pooh-pooh  what  we  are  never  likely 
 to  possess  is  wonderfully  easy.  The  con- 
 firmed celibate  is  loudest  in  his  denuncia- 
 tions of  matrimony.  In  ^Esop,  it  is  the 
 tailless  fox  that  advocates  the  disuse  of 
 tails.  It  is  tlie  grapes  we  cannot  reach 
 that  we  call  sour.  JEueas  Saije. 
 
 ENVY— Universality  of. 
 
 Envy  is  a  weed  that  grows  in  all  soils 
 and  climates,  and  is  no  less  luxuriant  in 
 the  country  than  in  the  court ;  is  not  con- 
 fined to  any  rank  of  men  or  extent  of  for- 
 tune, but  rages  in  the  breasts  of  all  degrees, 
 Alexander  was  not  prouder  than  Diogenes; 
 and  it  may  be,  if  we  would  endeavour  to 
 surprise  it  in  its  most  gaudy  dress  and 
 attire,  and  in  the  exercise  of  its  full  em- 
 pire and  tyranny,  we  should  find  it  in 
 schoolmasters   and    scholars,    or   in    some 
 
EPISTLES— ERKOR. 
 
 country  lady,  or  the  Ijnig'lit,  lier  husband  ; 
 all  which  ranks  of  peoi)le  more  des^pise  their 
 neiglibours  than  all  the  degrees  of  honour 
 in  whi(!h  courts  abound;  and  it  rages  as 
 much  in  a  sordid  afi'ected  dress  as  in  all 
 the  silks  and  embroideries  which  the  excess 
 of  the  age  and  the  folly  of  youth  delight 
 to  be  adorned  with.  Since,  then,  it  kcejis 
 all  sorts  of  company,  and  wrigii'les  itself 
 into  the  liking  of  the  most  contrary  na- 
 tures and  dispositions,  and  yet  carries  so 
 much  poison  and  venom  with  it,  that  it 
 alienates  the  affections  from  heaven,  and 
 raises  rebellion  against  God  Himself;  it  is 
 worth  our  utmost  care  to  watch  it  in  all 
 its  disguises  and  approaches,  that  we  may 
 discover  it  in  its  first  entrance,  and  dis- 
 lodge it  before  it  procures  a  shelter  or 
 retiring-place  to  lodge  and  conceal  itself. 
 Lord  Clarendon. 
 
 EPISTLES— The. 
 
 Rich  in  doctrine,  laden  with  the  finest 
 of  the  wheat,  the  Ei>istles  are  the  fruitful 
 fields  which  till  the  Church's  granary. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 EQUALITY— in  Eternity. 
 
 In  the  gates  of  eternity,  the  black  hand 
 and  the  white  hold  each  other  with  an 
 equal  clasp.  Mrs.  Sioive. 
 
 EQUALITY— in  Men. 
 Consider  man ;  weigh  well  thy  frame. 
 The  king,  the  beggar,  are  the  same ; 
 Dust  form'd   us   all.     Each   breathes   his 
 
 day. 
 Then  sinks  into  his  native  clay.  Gay. 
 
 EQUAlTimiTY— Excellency  of. 
 
 The  excellency  of  this  disposition  is 
 beyond  all  praise.  It  may  be  considered 
 as  the  grand  remedy  for  all  the  diseases 
 and  miseries  of  life,  and  the  only  waj'  by 
 which  we  can  preserve  the  dignity  of  our 
 characters  as  men  and  as  Christians. 
 
 C.  BucJc. 
 
 My  days,  though  few,  have  pass'd  below 
 In  much  of  joy,  though  more  of  woe ; 
 Yet  still,  in  hours  of  love  or  strife, 
 I've  'scaped  the  weariness  of  life.      Byron. 
 
 EQUANIMITY— Nature  of. 
 
 Equanimity  is  an  even,  uniform  state  of 
 mind,  amidst  all  the  vicissitudes  of  time 
 and  changes  of  circumstances  to  whic-h  we 
 are  subject  in  the  present  state.  One  of 
 this  disposition  is  not  dejected  when  under 
 adversity,  nor  elated  when  in  the  height  of 
 prosperity  ;  he  is  equally  aflable  to  others, 
 and  contented  in  himself.  C.  Buck. 
 
 EQUITY— Definition  of. 
 
 Equity  is  that  exact  rule  of  righteous- 
 ness or  justice  which  is  to  be  observed 
 
 I  between  man  and  man.  Onr  T-ord  Ijonuti- 
 fully  and  comprehensively  expresses  it  in 
 these  woids  :  "All  things  v.-hatsievcr  ye 
 would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye 
 even  so  to  them,  for  tliis  is  the  law  and 
 the  prophets"  (Matt,  vii,  12).  Ibid. 
 
 EQUIVOCATIOliT- Definition  of. 
 
 Equivocation  is  the  use  of  equivocal 
 terms,  which  may  be  understood  by  the 
 hearer  in  a  different  sense  from  that  in 
 which  they  are  taken  by  the  speaker.  He 
 who  is  guilty  of  equivocation  may  be  fairly 
 suspected  of  hypocrisy.  Maunder. 
 
 ERKOS— Course  of. 
 
 Error  is  insidious  in  its  approaches.  Ife 
 flatters  by  liberality  and  betrays  by  so- 
 phism. We  are  not  reconciled  to  it  at 
 once.  There  are  disgusts  to  be  allayed  and 
 fears  to  be  vanquished.  Little  by  little 
 are  we  allured.  Of  none,  perliaps,  is  the 
 j  equivocal  character  more  certain  than  of 
 this.  We  believe  it  always  originates  in 
 an  undue  conception  of  sin.  This  may  be 
 greatly  modified.  It  does  not  "appear 
 sin."  Often,  we  believe,  is  it  strengthened 
 by  the  forgetfulness  that  our  facts  and 
 faculties  are  alike  limited,  and  by  a  pre- 
 tension to  knowledge  far  beyond  our  actual 
 attainment.  Let  us  beware  of  the  first 
 wrong  direction  of  thought  and  feeling, 
 however  minute  the  degree;  fearful  may 
 be  the  after  deviations. 
 
 The  voyager  enters  a  current  which 
 seems  propitious,  there  is  no  apparent 
 diversion  from  his  course,  his  hark  speeds 
 well,  his  oar  does  not  toil  nor  his  sail  strain. 
 In  his  confidence  all  promises  success.  But 
 while  he  examines,  scarcely  does  it  seem 
 that  he  has  advanced.  Much  ai;ain  and 
 again  reminds  him  of  what  he  has  noticed 
 jost  before.  A  strange  familiarity  im- 
 presses his  sense.  Still  current  flows  into 
 current,  while  onward  and  buoyant  is  his 
 track.  Soon  he  feels  an  unnatural  vibra- 
 tion. Where  he  glided,  he  now  whirls 
 along.  The  truth  seizes  upon  him.  He  is 
 sweeping  a  whirlpool.  Long  since  he  has 
 entered  the  verge  of  a  maelstrom,  and  he 
 is  now  the  sport  of  its  gyrations.  No  power 
 is  left  his  helm  or  mast ;  he  is  the  trem- 
 bling unresisting  prey.  He  hears  the  roar ; 
 he  is  drawn  into  the  suck  of  the  vortex. 
 Not  only  the  circle  lessens,  the  very  surface 
 slopes.  The  central  funnel  and  abyss,  dark- 
 heaving,  smooth,  vitreous,  yawns.  The 
 mariner  shrieks,  the  skiff"  is  swallowed  up, 
 where  the  waters  only  separate  to  close, 
 where  the  outermost  attraction  was  but 
 the  minister  to  the  famine  of  this  devour- 
 ing maw.  Br.  E.  W.  Ramilton. 
 
 EREOR— Deceitful. 
 
 Error  is  a  thing  that  does  not  always 
 discover  itself  to  the  fii'st  view;  it  is  often. 
 
302 
 
 ERROR— ETEENITY. 
 
 fair  as  well  as  deceitful,  and  therefore  that 
 undei-standing  that  will  sell  its  assent  to 
 first  appearances  is  in  danger  of  the  snare, 
 and  to  mistake  an  imposture  for  an  oracle. 
 An  error  may  look  speciously  in  a  princi- 
 ple, which  will  betray  ugliness  enough  in 
 the  consequences.  It  may  be  honey  in  the 
 mouth  and  wormwood  in  the  belly ;  de- 
 licious to  the  first  apprehensions,  but  found 
 destructive  upon  alter  inquiry  and  experi- 
 ment. Br.  South. 
 
 ERROR  AND  TRUTH. 
 
 Error  may  be  compared  to  a  vessel  of 
 clay,  and  truth  to  a  vase  of  massy  gold. 
 In  vain  is  calumny  endeavouring  to  render 
 the  truth  contemptible,  by  over-heaping  it 
 with  everything  that  is  abominable;  in 
 vain  would  prejudice  give  error  an  amiable 
 appearance  by  artfully  concealing  its  de- 
 fects ;  for  whenever  the  hand  of  persecu- 
 tion shall  furiously  hurl  the  latter  against 
 the  former,  the  solid  gold  will  sustain  the 
 shock  unhurt,  while  the  varnished  clay 
 shall  be  dashed  in  pieces.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 ERROR,  MISTAKE,  BLUNDER. 
 
 Error  in  its  universal  sense  is  the  general 
 term,  since  every  deviation  from  what  is 
 right  in  rational  agents  is  termed  error 
 which  is  strictly  opposed  to  truth :  error 
 is  the  lot  of  humanity;  into  whatever  we 
 attempt  to  do  or  think,  error  will  be  sure 
 to  creep :  the  term,  therefore,  is  of  un- 
 limited use,  the  very  mention  of  which 
 reminds  us  of  our  condition.  We  have 
 errors  of  judgment,  errors  of  calculation, 
 errors  of  the  head,  and  errors  of  the  heart. 
 The  other  terms  designate  modes  of  error, 
 which  mostly  refer  to  the  common  concerns 
 of  life.  Mistake  is  an  error  of  choice  ; 
 blunder,  an  error  of  action.  Children  and 
 careless  people  are  most  apt  to  make 
 mistakes;  ignorant,  conceited,  and  stupid 
 people  commonly  commit  blunders. 
 
 G.  Cralb. 
 ERRORS— Spring  and  Growth  of. 
 
 All  errors  spi-ing  up  in  the  neighbour- 
 hood of  some  truth;  they  grow  round 
 about  it,  and,  for  the  most  part,  derive 
 their  strength  from  such  contiguity. 
 
 T.  Jiinney. 
 
 ESTEEM,  RESPECT,  REGARD. 
 
 JEsfeem  and  respect  flow  from  the  under- 
 standing; regard  springs  from  the  heart 
 as  well  as  the  head :  esteem  is  produced 
 by  intrinsic  worth ;  respect  by  extrinsic 
 qualities  :  regard  is  affection  blended  with 
 esteem.  It  is  in  the  power  of  every  man, 
 independently  of  all  collateral  circum- 
 stances, to  acquire  the  esteem  of  others  ; 
 but  respect  and  regard  are  within  the  reach 
 of  a  limited  number  only.  The  high  and 
 the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  equal 
 
 and  the  unequal,  are  each,  in  their  turn, 
 the  objects  of  esteem;  those  only  are 
 objects  of  respect  who  have  some  mark  of 
 distinction,  or  superiority  either  of  birth, 
 talent,  acquirements,  or  the  like;  regard 
 subsists  only  between  friends,  or  those  who 
 stand  in  close  connection  with  each  other ; 
 industry  and  sobriety  excite  our  esteem  for 
 one  man,  charity  and  benevolence  our 
 esteem  for  another ;  superior  learning  or 
 abilities  excite  our  respect  for  another ;  a 
 long  acquaintance,  or  a  reciprocity  of  kind 
 offices,  excite  a  mutual  regard.     G.  Crabb. 
 
 ETERNITY -Character  in. 
 
 Before  the  sun  has  climbed  above  the 
 horizon,  all  objects  on  earth  are  blended  in 
 one  common  indistinct,  gray  hue ;  you  can 
 just  discern  their  diff"erence  of  form.  The 
 sun  rises,  colour  appears,  outlines  define 
 themselves,  variety  and  time  are  born  at 
 once.  Before,  there  was  only  a  dull 
 monotony ;  now,  there  is  harmony. 
 
 The  life  to  come  has  a  similar  marvel  in 
 reserve.  At  the  first  ray  of  its  light  our 
 true  characters,  purified  but  preserving 
 their  identity,  will  more  fully  expand,  and 
 the  result  of  the  infinite  diversity  will  be  a 
 complete  unity.         Iladame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 ETERNITY— Definitions  of. 
 
 Eternity  is  infinite  duration  ;  duration 
 discharged  from  all  limits,  without  begin- 
 ning, without  succession,  and  without  end. 
 The  schoolmen  phrase  it  pitnctum  statis,  an 
 ever-abiding  present.  We,  however,  can 
 positively  conceive  of  eternity  only  as  dura- 
 tion indefinitely  extended  from  the  present 
 moment  in  two  directions — as  to  the  past, 
 and  as  to  the  future.  These  are  improperly 
 expressed  as  eternity  a  parte  ante,  or  past ; 
 and  eternity  a  parte  post,  or  future. 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 "  What  is  eternity  ?"  was  a  question 
 once  asked  at  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Institu- 
 tion at  Paris,  and  the  beautiful  and  striking 
 answer  was  given  by  one  of  the  pupils, 
 "  The  lifetime  of  the  Almighty." 
 
 ETERNITY— A  Lost  Soul  in. 
 Ah !  must  I  dwell  in  infinite  despair 
 As  many  years  as  atoms  in  the  air? — 
 When  these  expire,  as  many  yet  in  store 
 As  grains  of  sand  that  crowd  the  ebbing 
 
 shore  ? — 
 When  these  are  gone,  as  many  to  ensue 
 As  blades  of  grass  on  hills  or  dales  that 
 
 grew  ? — 
 When  these  pass  o'er,  as  many  left  behind 
 As  leaves  of  forests  shaken  by  the  wind  ?  — 
 When   these   run    out,   as   many   on   the 
 
 march 
 As  brilliant   lamps   that    gild  yon   azure 
 
 arch  ?— 
 
ETERNITY. 
 
 "When  these  are  past,  as  many  many  more 
 As  moments  in  the  millions  past  before? — 
 When  all  these  dreadful  years  are  spent  in 
 
 pain. 
 And  multiplied  by  myriads  again. 
 Till  numbers  drown  the  thought ;    could  I 
 
 suppose 
 That  then  my  wretched  years  were  at  a 
 
 close, 
 This   would  afford  some  ease;    but   ah,  I 
 
 shiver 
 To  think    upon   the    dreadful    word    "for 
 
 ever .'" — 
 Tlie  burning  gulph  where  I  blaspheming 
 
 lie. 
 Is  Time  no  more — but  vast  Eternity  ! 
 
 Anon. 
 ETERNITY— No  Measurement  of. 
 
 Suppose,  after  one  of  our  most  violent 
 ■snowstorms,  which  covers  the  earth  for 
 thousands  of  miles,  one  single  flake  were 
 melted  in  a  thousand  years  ;  or  if  a  single 
 beam  of  the  sun's  rays  stood  for  a  year, 
 and  as  many  years  were  added  as  there 
 have  been  rays  flooding  the  earth  since  the 
 sun  began  to  shine;  or  if  a  single  drop  of 
 the  ocean  were  exhaled  in  a  million  years, 
 till  the  last  drop  was  taken  up; — though 
 we  cannot  conceive  the  duration  of  such 
 apparently  almost  interminable  periods,  yet 
 though  we  could,  eternity  would  stretch 
 as  far  beyond  them  as  if  they  had  not  yet 
 begun.  M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 ETERNITY— Preparation  for. 
 
 There  was  a  certain  nobleman  who  kept 
 a  fool,  to  whom  he  one  day  gave  a  staff, 
 with  a  charge  to  keep  it  till  he  should 
 meet  with  one  who  was  a  greater  fool  than 
 himself:  not  many  years  after,  the  noble- 
 man fell  sick,  even  unto  death.  The  fool 
 came  to  see  him  ;  his  sick  lord  said  to  him, 
 "  I  must  shortly  leave  you."  "  And  whither 
 are  you  going  ?"  said  the  fool.  "  Into 
 another  world,"  replied  his  lordship.  "  And 
 when  will  you  return  ?  within  a  month  ?" 
 "No."  "Within  a  year?"  "No?" 
 "When  then?"  "Never!"  "Never?" 
 said  the  fool.  "  And  what  provision  hast 
 thou  made  for  thy  entertainment  there, 
 whither  thou  goest  ?"  "  None  at  all." 
 "  No  !"  said  the  fool,  "  none  at  all !  Here, 
 then,  take  my  staff;  for  with  all  my  folly, 
 I  am  not  guilty  of  any  folly  such  as  this." 
 Bp.  Hall. 
 
 ETERNITY — Progressiveness  of. 
 
 Eternity  will  be  one  glorious  morning, 
 with  the  sun  ever  climbing  higher  and 
 higher — one  blessed  spring  time,  and  yet 
 richer  summer — every  plant  in  full  flower, 
 but  every  flower  the  bud  of  a  lovelier. 
 
 Macduff. 
 ETERNITY— Questions  in. 
 
 One  object  of  life  should  be  to  accumulate 
 
 a  great  number  of  grand  questions  to  be 
 asked  and  resolved  in  eternity.  We  now 
 ask  the  sage,  the  genius,  the  philosopher, 
 the  divine — none  can  tell :  but  we  will 
 open  our  series  to  other  respondents — we 
 will  ask  angels — God.  J.  Foster. 
 
 ETERNITY— No  Time  in. 
 
 Lord  William  Russell  when  he  was  on 
 the  scaffold  about  to  be  beheaded,  took  his 
 watch  from  his  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  Dr. 
 Burnett,  who  was  attending  him,  with  the 
 remark,  "  My  timepiece  may  be  of  service 
 to  you.  I  have  no  further  occasion  for  it. 
 My  thoughts  are  fixed  on  eternity." 
 
 Anon. 
 ETERNITY— Unprepared  for. 
 
 A  lady  having  spent  an  afternoon  and 
 evening  at  cards  and  in  gay  company,  when 
 she  returned  home,  found  her  servant-maid 
 reading  a  pious  book.  She  looked  over  her 
 shoulder,  and  said,  "  Poor  melancholy  soul ! 
 what  pleasure  canst  thou  And  in  poring  so 
 long  over  that  book  ?"  That  night  she 
 could  tiot  sleep,  but  lay  sighing  and  weep- 
 ing very  much ;  and  her  servant  twice 
 asked  her  what  was  the  matter.  At  length 
 she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  said, 
 "  Oh  !  it  is  one  word  I  saw  in  your  book 
 that  troubles  me :  there  I  saw  that  word 
 eternity  !  Oh,  how  happy  should  I  be  if  I 
 were  prepared  for  eternity  !"       K.  Arvine. 
 
 ETERNITY— What  is? 
 
 What  is  eternity  ?  can  aught 
 
 Paint  its  duration  to  the  thought  ? 
 
 Tell  ev'ry  beam  the  sun  emits, 
 
 When  in  sublimest  noon  he  sits ; 
 
 Tell  every  light-wing'd  mote  that  sti'ays 
 
 Within  its  ample  round  of  rays. 
 
 Tell  all  the  leaves,  and  all  the  buds. 
 That  crown  the  gardens,  fields,  and  woods : 
 Tell  all  the  spires  of  grass  the  meads 
 Produce  when  spring  propitious  leads 
 
 The  new-born  year ; — tell  all  the  drops 
 That  night,  upon  their  bended  tops. 
 Sheds,  in  soft  silence,  to  display 
 Their  beauties  with  the  rising  day  : — 
 
 Tell  all  the  sands  the  ocean  laves. 
 Tell  ocean's  ever-changing  waves; 
 Or  tell,  with  more  laborious  pains, 
 The  drops  its  mighty  mass  contains : 
 
 Be  this  astonishing  account 
 Augmented,  with  the  full  amount 
 Of  all  the  drops  the  clouds  have  shed. 
 Where'er  their  wat'ry  fleeces  spread, 
 Through  all  time's  long  protracted  tour. 
 From  Adam  to  the  present  hour — 
 
 — Still  short  the  sum,  nor  can  it  vie 
 With  the  more  nura'rous  years  that  lie 
 Embosom'd  in  Eternity. 
 
304 
 
 ETHICS— EVAITGSLISTS. 
 
 Vv'ere  there  a  belt  that  coulJ  contain 
 In  its  vast  orb,  the  earth  and  main ; 
 With  figures  were  it  chister'd  over, 
 AVithout  one  cipher  in  the  score; 
 And  could  your  lab'ring  thought  assign 
 The  total  of  the  crowded  line — 
 
 — How  scant  th'  amount !  th'  attempt  how 
 
 vain, 
 To  reach  Duration's  endless  chain  ! 
 For  when  as  many  years  are  run, 
 Unbounded  age  is  but  begun. 
 Attend,  O  man,  with  awe  divine  : 
 For  this  Eternity  is  thine.  Gilhons. 
 
 ETHICS— Definition  of. 
 
 Ethics  is  the  doctrine  of  manners,  or 
 science  of  philosophy,  which  teaches  men 
 their  duty  and  tlie  springs  and  principles 
 of  human  conduct.  3Iaunder. 
 
 EVxiBTGELISTS— The  Four. 
 
 It  is  a  fact  which  might  well  excite 
 every  man's  most  thoughtful  attention,  but 
 one  with  which  we  are  too  familiar  to  have 
 divined  much  of  its  significance,  that  we 
 should  have,  not  one  history  only,  but  four 
 parallel  histories,  of  the  life  of  Christ — a 
 fact  which  indeed  finds  a  slight  anticipa- 
 tion in  the  parallel  records  which  the  Old 
 Testament  has  preserved  of  some  portions 
 of  Jewish  history.  No  faithful  man  will 
 call  this  an  accident,  or  count  that  the 
 Providence  which  watches  over  the  fall  of 
 a  sparrow  or  any  slightest  incident  of  the 
 world,  did  not  itself  bring  about  a  circum- 
 stance which  should  exert  so  mighty  an 
 influence  on  all  the  future  unfolding  of  the 
 Church.  It  is  part,  no  doubt,  of  this 
 spreading  of  a  table  for  the  spiritual  need 
 of  all,  that  we  have  thus  not  one  Gospel, 
 but  four;  which  yet  in  their  higher  unity 
 may  be  styled,  according  to  that  word  of 
 Origen's,  rather  a  four-sided  Gospel  than 
 four  Gospels;  even  as  out  of  the  same 
 instinctive  sense  of  its  unity  the  whole  in- 
 strument which  contained  the  four  was 
 entitled  JEvangeUum  in  the  early  church. 
 
 And  if  we  follow  this  more  closely  up, 
 we  can  trace,  I  think,  a  peculiar  vocation 
 in  each  of  the  Evangelists  for  catching 
 some  distinct  rays  of  the  glory  of  Christ, 
 wliich  the  others  would'  not  catch,  and  for 
 reflecting  them  to  the  world — so  that  the 
 terms.  Gospel  according  to  St.  Matthew, 
 according  to  St.  Mark,  and  so  on,  are  sin- 
 gularly happy,  and  imply  much  more  than 
 we,  for  whom  they  are  little  more  than 
 technical  designations  of  the  diflereut  Gos- 
 pels, are  wont  to  find  in  them.  The  first 
 is  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Matthew — 
 the  Gospel  as  it  presented  itself  to  him. 
 This,  which  he  has  portrayed,  is  his 
 Christ;  under  this  aspect  the  Deliverer  of 
 men  appeared  to  him,  and  in  this  he  has 
 presented  Him  to  the  world.     So  also  with 
 
 the  others.  For  Christ,  ever  one  and  the 
 same,  does  yet  appear  with  difl'ei-ent  sides 
 of  His  glory  reflected  by  the  different  Evan- 
 gelists. They  were  themselves  men  of 
 various  temperaments  ;  they  had  each  the 
 special  needs  of  some  different  classes  of 
 men  in  then-  eye  when  they  wrote  their 
 Gospels ;  and  as  these  classes,  though  under 
 altered  names,  still  subsist,  they  have  in 
 this  respect  also,  as  ministering  to  these 
 various  needs,  an  everlasting  value. 
 
 Thus  the  first  Gospel,  that  of  St.  Mat- 
 thew, was  evidently  a  Gospel  designed  for 
 the  pious  Israelite,  for  him  who  was  wait- 
 ing the  theocratic  King,  the  Son  of  Abra- 
 ham, the  Son  of  David;  who  desired  to 
 find  in  the  New  Testament  the  fulfilment 
 of  the  prophecies  of  the  Old,  and  in  Chris- 
 tianity the  perfect  iiower,  of  which  Judaism 
 was  the  root  and  stem.  And  as  among  the 
 Epistles,  that  of  St.  James,  so  among  the 
 Gospels,  this  of  St.  filatthew,  was  to  serve 
 as  the  gentle  and  almost  imperceptible 
 transition  for  so  many  as  clung  to  the 
 forms  of  Old  Testament  piety ;  and  would 
 fain  hold  fast  the  historic  connection  of  all 
 God's  dealings  from  the  first. 
 
 But  the  second  Gospel,  written,  as  all 
 Church  tradition  testifies,  under  the  influ- 
 ence of  St.  Peter  and  at  Rome,  bears  marks 
 of  an  evident  fitness  for  the  practical 
 Roman  world — for  the  men  who,  while 
 others  talked,  had  done ;  and  who  would 
 not  at  first  crave  to  hear  what  Christ  had 
 spoken,  but  what  He  had  wrought.  It  is 
 eminently  the  Gospel  of  action.  It  is 
 brief;  it  records  comparatively  few  of  our 
 Lord's  sayings,  almost  none  of  His  longer 
 discourses;  it  occupies  itself  mainly  with 
 His  acts,  with  the  mighty  power  of  His 
 ministry,  into  which  ministry  it  rushes 
 almost  without  a  preparatory  note.  Some 
 deeper  things  it  has  not,  but  presents  a 
 soul-stirring  picture  of  the  conquering 
 might  and  energy  of  Christ  and  His  word. 
 
 The  third  Gospel,  that  of  St.  Luke,  com- 
 posed by  the  trusted  companion  of  St. 
 Paul,  and  itself  the  correlative  of  his 
 Epistles,  while  it  sets  forth  one  and  the 
 same  Christ  as  the  two  which  went  before, 
 yet  in  some  respects  sets  Him  forth  in  an- 
 other light.  Not  so  much,  with  St.  Mat- 
 tliew,  "  Jesus  Christ,  a  minister  of  the 
 circumcision  for  the  truth  of  God,  to  con- 
 firm the  promises  made  unto  the  fathers  " 
 — not  so  much,  with  St.  Mark,  Jesus 
 Christ  "  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah," 
 rushing  as  with  lion-springs  from  victory 
 to  victorj';  but  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour 
 of  all  men,  is  the  object  of  his  portraiture. 
 This  is  what  he  loves  to  dwell  on,— the 
 manner  in  which  not  Israel  alone,  but  the 
 whole  heathen  world,  was  destined  to 
 glorify  God  for  His  mercy  in  Christ  Jesus; 
 he  describes  Him  as  the  loving  Physician, 
 the  gracious  Healer  of  all.  Himself  the  good 
 
EVANGELISTS. 
 
 305 
 
 Samaritan  that  bound  up  the  wounds  of 
 every  stricken  heart ;  in  whom  all  the  small 
 and  despised  and  crushed  and  down-ti-od- 
 den  of  the  earth  should  find  a  gracious  and 
 ready  helper.  Therefore,  and  in  accordance 
 with  this  intention,  has  he  gathered  up  for 
 us  much  which  no  other  hasdone;  he  sets  the 
 seventy  disciples  for  the  world  over  against 
 St.  Matthew's  twelve  Apostles  for  Israel 
 (Luke  X,  1) ;  he  breaks  through  narrow 
 national  distinctions — tells  of  that  Sama- 
 ritan that  alone  showed  kindness — of  that 
 other  who,  of  ten,  alone  remembered  to  be 
 thankful ;  and  his  too,  and  his  only,  the 
 parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  itself  an 
 "  Evangelinm  in  Evangelo,"  as  it  has  very 
 worthily  been  called. 
 
 But,  to  hasten  on  from  these  character- 
 istics of  the  earlier  three,  which  might 
 well  detain  us  much  longer,  something  was 
 still  wanting;  there  wanted  a  Gospel  in 
 which  the  higher  speculative  tendencies, 
 which  were  given  to  men  not  to  be  crushed 
 or  crippled,  should  find  their  adequate 
 satisfaction — a  Gospel  which  should  link 
 itself  on  with  whatever  had  occupied  the 
 philosophic  mind  of  heathen  or  of  Jew — 
 the  correction  of  all  which  in  this  was 
 false — the  complement  of  all  which  was 
 deficient,  the  support  of  all  that  was  true. 
 And  such  he  gave  us,  for  whom  the  Church 
 has  ever  found  the  soaring  eagle  as  the 
 fittest  emblem — he  who  begins  with  declar- 
 ing that  the  Word  of  God,  whereof  men 
 had  already  learned  to  speak  so  much,  was 
 also  the  Son  of  God,  and  (which  hitherto 
 they  had  not  dreamt  of)  had  been  made 
 flesh,  and  had  dwelt  among  us,  full  of  grace 
 and  truth  ;  while  at  the  same  time  he  has 
 brought  out  the  inner  and,  so  to  speak, 
 the  mystical  relations  of  the  faithful  with 
 their  Lord,  as  none  other  before  him  had 
 done. 
 
 It  is  true  that  this  fulness  under  which 
 the  life  of  our  Lord  has  been  set  forth  to 
 us,  being,  as  it  is,  one  of  the  gracious 
 designs  of  God  for  our  good,  or  rather  the 
 variety  which  has  resulted  from  this  ful- 
 ness, has  been  laid  hold  of  by  adversaries 
 of  the  Faith,  who  would  fain  wrest  it  to 
 their  own  ends.  Taking  the  difl'erence, 
 where  it  is  the  most  striking,  they  have 
 bidden  us  to  note  how  unlike  the  Christ  of 
 the  first  three  Gospels,  and  of  the  fourth ; 
 what  a  different  colouring  is  spread  over 
 this  Gospel  and  over  those  ;  and  they  would 
 draw  their  conclusion,  that  either  here  or 
 there  historic  accuracy  must  be  wanting, 
 that  both  portraits  cannot  be  faithful.  We 
 allow  the  charge,  so  far  as  the  difference, 
 and  only  reject  it  when  it  asserts  a  diver- 
 sity, of  setting  forth.  There  are  features 
 of  our  Lord  which  we  should  have  missed 
 but  for  his  portraiture  who  lay  upon  the 
 Lord's  bosom  :  deep  words  which  he  has 
 caught  up,  for  which  no  other  words  that 
 
 any  other  has  recorded  would  have  been 
 adequate  substitutes.  But  what  then  ? 
 This  is  not  a  weak  point  with  us,  but  a 
 strong.  We  rejoice  and  glory  in  this, 
 rather  than  seek  to  gloss  it  over  or  conceal 
 it.  So  far  from  being  first  detected  by  an 
 hostile  criticism,  an  early  Father  of  the 
 Church  had  expressed  this  very  distinction 
 in  words  which  in  sound  perhaps  are  al- 
 most  overbold,  styling  the  first  three 
 Gospels  f  vayytXta  (Ta)/xartKa,and  the  foui-th 
 an  £va  yysXiov  TTVtvfiariKov.  It  may  be 
 well  to  observe  that  he,  saying  this,  did  not 
 mean  to  cast  the  faintest  slight  on  the 
 three  by  comparison  with  the  fourth,  but 
 would  only  imply  that  those  set  forth 
 more  the  outer,  and  this  the  inner,  life  of 
 the  Lord. 
 
 And  for  the  fact  itself,  do  we  not  find 
 analogies  to  it,  however  weak  ones  they 
 may  be,  in  lower  regions  of  the  spiritual 
 life  ?  To  take  an  example  which  must  be 
 familiar  to  every  scholar, — how  different 
 the  Socrates  of  Zenophon,  and  the  Socrates 
 of  Plato.  Yet  shall  we  therefore  leap  to 
 the  conclusion,  that  if  the  one  has  p.iinted 
 the  master  truly,  then  the  other  has  por- 
 ti-ayed  him  falsely  ?  Such  a  conclusion 
 may  seem  to  lie  upon  the  surface ;  it 
 might  appear  to  us  an  easy  solution  of  the 
 difficulty ;  yet  were  it  a  very  different 
 solution  from  that  to  which  all  the  pro- 
 foundest  inquirers  into  the  matter  have 
 arrived.  Were  it  not  more  prudently  done 
 to  suppose  with  them,  that  each  of  the 
 great  scholars  of  the  Sage  appropriated  and 
 carried  away,  as  from  a  rich  and  varied 
 treasure-house,  that  which  he  prized  the 
 most,  that  which  most  akin  to  himself  and 
 his  own  genius,  that  which  by  the  natural 
 process  of  assimilation  he  had  made  most 
 truly  and  entirely  his  own ;  the  practical 
 soldier,  the  man  of  strong  common  sense, 
 appropriating  and  carrying  away  his  mas- 
 ter's worldly  wisdom,  his  popular  philoso- 
 phy; the  more  meditative  disciple  taking  as 
 his  portion  the  deeper  speculations  of  their 
 common  teacher  concerning  the  good  and 
 true  ?  And  if  thus  it  prove  with  eminent 
 servants  of  the  Truth — if  they  are  so  rich 
 and  manifold  that  they  present  themselves 
 under  divers  aspects  to  divers  men,  it  being 
 appointed  to  them  in  their  lower  sphere  to 
 feed  many, — if,  like  some  rich  composite 
 Corinthian  metal,  they  yield  iron  for  this 
 man's  spade,  and  gold  for  the  other's  crown, 
 how  much  more  was  this  to  be  looked  fur 
 from  Him  who  was  the  King  of  Truth,  who 
 was  to  feed  and  enrich  not  some,  but  all ; 
 and  this,  not  in  some  small  and  scanty 
 measure,  but  who  was  to  satisfy  all  in  all 
 ages  with  goodness  and  truth  ?  How 
 inevitable  was  it  that  He,  the  Sun  of  the 
 spiritual  heaven,  should  find  no  single 
 mirror  large  enough  to  take  in  all  His 
 ,  should  only  be  adequately  presented 
 
306 
 
 EVANGEIISTS— EVIDENCE. 
 
 to  the  world,  when  many  from  many  sides 
 did,  under  the  dh-ect  teaching  of  God's 
 Spirit,  undertake  to  set  Him  forth. 
 
 Doubtless  the  pregnant  symbol  of  the 
 early  Church,  according  to  wiiich  the  four 
 Gospels  found  their  type  and  prophecy  in 
 the  four  rivers  of  Paradise,  which  together 
 watered  the  whole  earth,  going  each  a 
 different  way,  and  yet  issuing  ail  from  a 
 single  head; — a  symbol  which  we  find 
 evermore  repeated  in  the  works  of  early 
 Christian  art,  wherein  from  a  sinp:le  cross- 
 surmounted  hill,  four  streams  are  seen 
 welling  out ; — this  symbol  was  so  great  and 
 general  a  favorite,  because  it  did  embody, 
 under  a  beautiful  image,  this  fact,  namely, 
 how  the  Gospels  were  indued  four,  and  yet 
 in  their  higher  unity  but  one.  And  so  not 
 less,  when  the  Evangelists  were  found,  as 
 they  often  were,  in  the  "  four  living  crea- 
 tures" of  Ezekiel's  vision,  of  whom  each 
 with  a  different  countenance  looked  a 
 different  way,  and  yet  all  of  them  together 
 upheld  the  throne  and  chariot  of  God,  and 
 ever  moved  as  being  informed  by  one  and 
 the  selfsame  Spirit ;  this  too  was  something 
 more  and  better  than  a  mere  fanciful  play- 
 ing with  Scripture ;  there  was  a  deep 
 truth  lying  at  the  root  of  this  application, 
 and  abundantly  justifying  its  use. 
 
 Archbisho2}  Trench. 
 
 EVANGELISTS— Wisdom  of  the. 
 
 How  admirable  is  the  wisdom  of  the 
 Evangelists  !  They  never  speak  injuriously 
 of  the  enemies  of  Jesus  Christ,  of  His 
 judges,  nor  of  His  executioners.  They 
 report  the  fact  without  a  single  reflection. 
 They  comment  neither  on  their  Master's 
 mildness  when  He  was  smitten,  nor  on  His 
 constancy  in  the  hour  of  ignominious  death, 
 which  they  thus  describe, "  And  they  cruci- 
 fied Jesus'."  Racine. 
 EVENING— Associations  of. 
 Th's  is  the  hour  when  memory  wakes 
 
 Visions  of  joy  tl'.at  could  not  last; 
 This  is  the  hour  when  fancy  takes 
 
 A  survey  of  the  past ! 
 She  brings  before  the  pensive  mind 
 
 The  hallowed  scenes  of  earlier  years  ; 
 And  friends  who  long  have  been  consign'd 
 
 To  silence  and  to  tears  ! 
 The  few  we  lik'd  ;  the  One  we  lov'd ; 
 
 A  sacred  bond  !  come  stealing  on  ; 
 And  many  a  form  far  hence  remov'd, 
 
 And  many  a  pleasure  gone  ! 
 Friendships  that  now  in  death  are  hush'd. 
 
 And  young  affection's  broken  chain  ; 
 And  hopes  that  fute  too  quickly  crush'd, 
 
 In  memory  live  again  ! 
 Few  watch  the  fading  gleams  of  day, 
 
 But  muse  on  hopes  as  quickly  flown, 
 Tint^^  after  tint  they  died  away, 
 
 T;ll  all  at  last  were  gone  ! 
 
 This  is  the  hour  when  fancy  wreaths 
 
 Her  spells  round  joys  that  could  not  last; 
 
 This  is  the  hour  when  memory  breathes 
 A  sigh  to  pleasures  past.  Wilson, 
 
 EVENING— Beauties  of. 
 
 Sweet  is  the  balmy  evening  hour, 
 
 And  mild  the  glow-worm's  light. 
 And  soft  the  breeze  that  sweeps  the  flower 
 
 With  pearly  dewdrops  bright. 
 I  love  to  loiter  on  the  hill. 
 
 And  catch  each  trembling  ray; 
 Fair  as  they  are,  they  'mind  me  still 
 
 Of  fairer  things  than  they. 
 
 What  is  the  breath  of  closing  flowers 
 
 But  feeling's  gentlest  sigh  ? 
 What  are  the  dewdrops'  crystal  showers 
 
 But  tears  from  Pity's  eye  ? 
 What  are  the  glow-worms  by  the  rill 
 
 But  Fancy's  flushes  gay  ? 
 I  love  them,  for  they  'mind  me  still 
 
 Of  One  more  dear  than  they.     Mitford. 
 
 EVENING— Description  of. 
 
 Now  came  still  evening  on,  and  twilight 
 
 gray 
 Had  in  her  sober  livery  all  things  clad ; 
 Silence  accompanied, — for  beast  and  bird, 
 They  to  their  grassy  couch,  these  to  their 
 
 nests 
 Where  slunk,  all  but  the  wakeful  nightin- 
 gale. 
 She  all  night   long   her   am'rous  descant 
 
 sung ; 
 Silence  was  pleased.     Now  glowed  the  fir- 
 mament 
 With  living  sapphires :  Hesperus,  that  led 
 The  starry  host,  rode  brightest,  till  the 
 
 moon, 
 Rising  in  clouded  majesty,  at  length 
 Apparent  queen,  unveil'd  her  peerless  light. 
 And  o'er  the  dark  her  silver  mantle  tlirew. 
 Milton. 
 EVEEMOSE. 
 
 "  For  evermore  !"  Words  easily  uttered, 
 but  in  comprehension  vaster  than  human 
 tliought  can  grasp,  till  man,  entering  upon 
 eternity,  shall  rise  to  faculties  fitted  for 
 the  scene  !  ' "'  For  evermore :"  for  an  ex- 
 istence to  which  the  age  of  the  earth,  of 
 the  starry  heavens,  of  the  whole  vast  uni- 
 verse, is  less  than  a  morning  dream ;  for  a 
 life  which,  after  the  reiteration  of  millions 
 of  centuries,  shall  begin  the  endless  race 
 with  the  freshness  of  infancy,  and  all  the 
 eagerness  that  welcomes  enjoyments  ever 
 uew.  Archer  Butler. 
 
 EVIDENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Evidence   is   that  perception   of   truth 
 
 which  arises  either  from  the  testimony  of 
 
 the  senses,  or  from  an  induction  of  reason 
 
 a  Buck. 
 
 Evidence,   in    its   most    general    sense 
 
EVIDENCE— EVIL. 
 
 307 
 
 means  the  proofs  which  establLh,  or  have 
 a  tendency  to  establish,  any  facts  or  con- 
 clusirns.  It  may  be  divided  into  three 
 sorts,  mathematical,  moral,  and  legal.  The 
 first  is  employed  in  the  demonstrations 
 which  belong  to  pnre  mathematics;  the 
 second  is  employed  in  the  general  affairs 
 of  life,  and  in  those  reasonings  which  are 
 applied  to  convince  the  understanding  in 
 cases  not  admitting  of  strict  demonstra- 
 tion ;  the  third  is  that  which  is  employed 
 in  judicial  tribunals  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
 ciding upon  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  liti- 
 gants. Maunder. 
 
 EVIDENCE  AND  PEOOF. 
 
 Evidence  is  applied  to  that  which  is 
 moral  or  intellectual ;  proof  is  employed 
 mostly  for  facts  or  physical  objects.  All 
 that  our  Saviour  did  and  said  were  evi- 
 dences of  His  Divine  character,  which 
 might  have  produced  fiuth  in  the  minds  of 
 many,  even  if  they  had  not  such  numerous 
 and  miraculous  proofs  of  His  power.  Evi- 
 dence may  be  internal  or  lie  in  the  thing 
 itself;  proof  is  always  external.  The  in- 
 ternal evidences  of  the  trutli  of  Divine 
 revelation  are  even  more  numerous  than 
 those  which  are  exterjial :  our  Saviour's 
 reappearance  among  His  disciples  did  not 
 satisfy  the  unbelieving  Thomas  of  His 
 identity  until  he  had  the  forther  proofs  of 
 feeling  the  holes  in  His  hands  and  His  side. 
 G.  Crabb. 
 EVIDENCE  OP  SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Of  much  that  is  contained  in  Scripture 
 the  mind  of  man  is  so  constituted  as  im- 
 mediately and  intuitively,  when  brought 
 face  to  face  with  it,  to  recognise  the  truth- 
 fulness or  reality.  As  it  needs  no  outward 
 attestation  to  prove  to  the  tasteful  eye  the 
 beauty  of  fair  scenes,  as  sweet  sounds  need 
 no  authentication  of  their  hariaony  to  the 
 sensitive  ear;'  so,  between  the  spirit  of 
 man  and  that  infinite  world  of  moral 
 beauty  and  harmony  which  revelation  dis- 
 closes, there  is  a  correspondence  so  deep 
 and  real  that  the  inner  eye  and  ear,  if  un- 
 diseased,  discern  at  once  in  Divine  things 
 their  own  best  witness  and  authority. 
 
 Dr.  Caird. 
 EVIDENCE  AND  TESTIMONY. 
 
 Evidence  is  whatever  makes  evident; 
 testimony  is  that  which  is  derived  from  an 
 ■individual,  namely,  testis  the  witness. 
 Evidence  serves  to  inform  and  illustrate; 
 testimony  serves  to  confirm  and  corrobo- 
 rate; we  may  give  evidence  exclusively 
 with  regard  to  things;  but  we  bear  testi- 
 mony with  regard  to  persons.  In  all  law- 
 suits respecting  property,  rights,  and  pri- 
 vileges, evidence  must  be  heard  in  order  to 
 substantiate  or  invalidate  a  case;  in  per- 
 sonal and  criminal  indictments  the  testi- 
 mony of  witnesses  is  required  either  for  or 
 against  the  accused  party.  G.  Crahb. 
 
 EVIDENCE  OP  TRUTH— Twofold. 
 
 The  truth  we  receive  from  the  lips  of 
 another  may  either  derive  its  authority 
 from  the  teacher,  or  reflect  on  him  the 
 authority  it  contains.  As  the  receiver  of 
 money  may  argue,  either  that  the  money 
 is  good  because  it  is  an  honest  man  who 
 pays  it,  or  that  the  man  is  honest  because 
 he  pays  good  money ;  so,  in  the  communi- 
 cation and  reception  of  truth,  it  may  be  a 
 valid  inference,  either  that  the  doctrine  is 
 true  because  it  is  a  trustworthy  man  who 
 teaches  it,  or  that  the  man  who  teaches  is 
 veracious  or  trustworthy  because  his  doc- 
 trine is  true.  I>r.  Caird. 
 
 EVIL— Definition  of. 
 
 The  truest  definition  of  evil  is  that 
 which  represents  it  as  something  contrary 
 to  nature;  evil  is  evil,  because  it  is  i.n- 
 natural:  a  vine  which  should  bear  olive 
 berries,  an  eye  to  which  blue  seems  yellow, 
 would  be  diseased;  an  unnatural  mother; 
 an  unnatural  son;  an  unnatural  act,  are 
 the  strongest  terms  of  condemnation. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 EVIL — its  relation  to  God. 
 
 Suppose,  for  example,  that  some  person, 
 actuated  by  a  desire  to  benefit  or  bless 
 society,  takes  it  in  hand  to  establish  and 
 endow  a  school  of  public  charity.  In  such 
 a  case,  he  will  go  into  a  careful  conside- 
 ration of  all  the  possible  plans  of  organi- 
 sation, with  a  view  to  select  the  best.  In 
 order  to  make  the  case  entirely  parallel, 
 suppose  him  to  have  a  complete  intuition 
 of  these  plans  or  possibilities — A,  B,  and 
 C,  &c.,  on  to  the  end  of  the  alphabet ;  so 
 that,  giving  each  plan  or  possibility,  with 
 all  its  features  and  appointments,  he  can 
 see  precisely  what  will  follow — all  the  good, 
 all  the  mischief,  that  will  be  incurred  by 
 every  child  that  will  ever  attend  the  school. 
 For  in  each  of  these  plans  or  possibles 
 there  are  mischiefs  incident;  and  there 
 will  be  children  attendant,  who,  by  reason 
 of  no  fault  of  the  school,  but  only  by  their 
 p.rverse  abuse  of  it,  will  there  be  ruined. 
 The  benefactor  and  founder,  having  thus 
 discovered  that  a  certain  plan,  D,  combines 
 the  greatest  amount  of  good  results  and 
 the  smallest  of  bad  ones,  the  question  rises 
 whether  he  shall  adopt  that  plan.  By  the 
 supposition  he  must,  for  it  is  the  best 
 possible.  And  yet,  by  adopting  that  plan, 
 he  perceives  that  he  will  make  certain  also 
 every  particular  one  of  the  mischiefs  that 
 will  be  suffered  by  the  abuse  of  it,  and  so 
 the  ruin  of  every  child  that  will  be  ruined 
 under  it.  As  long  as  the  plan  is  only  a 
 possible,  a  thing  of  contemplation,  no  mis- 
 chiefs are  sufiered»  no  child  is  ruined ;  but 
 the  moment  he  decides  to  make  the  plan 
 actual,  or  set  the  school  on  foot,  he  decides, 
 1  makes  certain,  or  in  that  sense  fore-ordi- 
 
EVIL. 
 
 nates,  all  the  particular  bad  conduct  and  all 
 the  particular  undoing  there  to  be  wrought, 
 as  intuitively  seen  by  him  beforehand. 
 Nothing  of  this  would  come  to  pass  if  the 
 school,  D,  was  not  founded ;  and  in  simply 
 deciding  on  the  plan,  with  a  perfect  per- 
 ception of  what  will  take  place  under  it, 
 he  decides  the  bad  results  as  well  as  the 
 good,  though  in  senses  entirely  different. 
 The  bad  are  not  from  him,  nor  from  any- 
 thing lie  has  introduced  or  appointed ;  but 
 wholly  from  the  abuses  of  his  beneficence 
 practised  by  others  whom  he  undertakes 
 to  bless.  The  good  is  all  from  him,  being 
 that  for  which  he  established  the  school. 
 Both  are  knowingly  made  certain  or  fore- 
 ordained by  his  act. 
 
 In  this  illustration  it  is  not  difficult  to 
 distinguish  the  true  relation  of  God  to  the 
 existence  of  evil.  In  selecting  the  best 
 ]>ossible  plan  among  the  millions  of  pos- 
 sibles open  to  His  contemplation,  and  de- 
 ciding to  set  foot  on  or  actualise  that  par- 
 ticular universe.  He  made  certain  all  the 
 evils  or  mischiefs  seen  to  be  connected  with 
 it.  But  they  are  not  from  Him,  because 
 they  are,  in  this  indirect  manner,  made 
 certain,  or  foreordinated  by  Him.  It  is 
 hardly  right  to  say  that  they  are  permitted 
 by  Him.  They  come  in  only  as  necessary 
 evils  that  environ  the  best  plan  possible. 
 Such  are  the  relations  of  God  to  the  exist- 
 ence of  evil.  If  it  comes,  it  is  not  from 
 Him,  any  more  than  the  ruin  of  certain 
 children  in  the  school  just  supposed  are 
 from  the  benevolent  founder. 
 
 Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 EVIL— Good  for. 
 
 A  good  man,  named  William  Grey,  who 
 lived  near  a  small  town  in  Hampshire,  had 
 a  horse  that  sometimes  strayed  from  the 
 connnon.  A  drunken  farmer  who  disliked 
 Grey  for  being  a  religious  man  put  the 
 strayed  horse  in  the  pound,  and  on  being 
 remonstrated  with  said,  "  And  if  I  meet 
 him  again  on  the  road,  Fll  do  it  again .'" 
 
 "Neighbour,"  replied  Grey,  "not  long 
 since  I  looked  from  my  window  and  saw 
 some  of  your  cattle  in  my  meadow,  and  I 
 drove  them  out,  and  did  not  leave  them 
 until  I  shut  them  safely  in  your  yard,  and 
 if  I  find  them  again  there,  '  I'll  do  it 
 again  !' " 
 
 The  man  was  so  struck  with  the  reply, 
 that  he  paid  the  charge  of  Grey's  horse 
 being  in  the  pound,  and  became  a  better 
 neighbour  ever  after.  Anon. 
 
 A  man  was  seen  one  day  going  in  a  boat 
 on  a  river  with  a  large  dog,  which  for  some 
 reason  or  other  he  wished  to  get  rid  of  by 
 drowning.  He  succeeded  in  throwing  the 
 animal  into  the  water,  but  the  creature 
 sought  with  all  diligence  to  re-enter  the 
 boat.     As  the  man  was  attempting  to  beat 
 
 off  the  dog  from  the  boat,  he  fell  overboard, 
 and  would  have  been  drowned  had  not  the 
 dog  seized  him  by  his  coat  and  brought 
 him  to  the  shore. 
 
 What  a  lesson  does  the  action  of  this 
 dumb  animal  teach  all  Christians— to  re- 
 turn kindness  for  aU  acts  of  evil  which 
 may  be  committed  against  them. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 It  was  wont  to  be  said  of  Archbishop 
 Cranmer,  If  you  would  be  sure  to  have 
 Cranmer  do  you  a  good  turn,  you  must  do 
 him  some  ill  one ;  for,  though  he  loved  to 
 do  good  to  all,  yet  especially  he  would 
 watch  for  opportunity  to  do  good  to  such 
 as  had  wronged  him.  Spencer. 
 
 At  the  foot  of  our  street  stood  an  Italian 
 with  a  hand-organ.  Ten  or  twelve  boys 
 gathered  around  him,  more  filled  with 
 mirthfulness  than  courtesy.  One,  less 
 noble  than  the  rest,  said  to  his  fellows, 
 "See!  I'll  hit  his  hat!" 
 
 And  sure  enough  he  did.  Catching  up 
 a  snowball,  he  threw  it  so  violently  that 
 the  poor  man's  hat  was  knocked  into  the 
 gutter.  A  stander-by  expected  to  see  some 
 manifestation  of  anger.  Not  so.  The  mu- 
 sician stopped,  stepped  forward,  and  picked 
 up  his  hat.  He  then  turned  to  the  rude 
 boy,  gracefully  bowed,  and  said,  "And 
 now  I'll  play  you  a  tune  to  make  you 
 merry." 
 
 Which,  think  you,  was  the  Christian  ? 
 
 Br.  Wise. 
 
 Augustine  has  said.  One  of  the  goodliest 
 spectacles,  able  to  attract  angels  to  the 
 gates  of  heaven  to  behold  it,  is  neither 
 theatres,  amphitheatres,  pyramids,  nor  obe- 
 lisks ;  but  a  man  who  knoweth  how  to  do 
 well  and  bear  ill,  and  to  vindicate  himself 
 from  ill  by  doing  well,  N.  Caussin. 
 
 Suppose  that  the  history  of  our  Lord 
 had  contained  accounts  of  revenge  and  re- 
 taliation on  His  part  towards  His  enemies ; 
 if,  for  instance.  He  had  struck  dumb  those 
 who  falsely  accused  Him,  or  consumed  with 
 fire  those  who  mocked  Him,  or  commanded 
 His  angels  to  shoot  arrows  of  death  into 
 them  who  put  the  crown  of  thorns  on 
 His  head,  &c.,  what  a  different  Gospel  we 
 should  have  had  !  One  of  the  crowning 
 excellences  of  His  character  would  have 
 been  wanting.  The  world  would  have 
 despised  Him  as  an  example.  But  He 
 ever  gave  love  for  hate,  good  for  evil, 
 blessings  for  cursings,  and  hence  the  gran- 
 deur and  perfection  of  His  character  in 
 regard  to  this  particular  as  well  as  others 
 — returning  good  for  evil.  John  Bate. 
 
 EVIL— Good  out  of. 
 
 "  My  son  has  learnt  his  verse,  and  said 
 
EVIL— EVILS. 
 
 309 
 
 it  well ;  so  that  he  has  got  some  good  by 
 being  naughty,"  observed  a  mother  one 
 day  in  my  hearing ;  upon  which  I  imme- 
 diately thought,  we  little  know  how  much 
 good  our  Father  in  heaven  causes  to  come 
 upon  us  by  His  corrections  of  our  sins. 
 We  may  mourn,  as  is  proper,  over  our  sins 
 at  the  time,  and  feel  keenly  the  corrections 
 of  His  hand,  but  we  shall  learn  many  use- 
 ful lessons  of  providence,  of  grace,  of  the 
 Bible,  of  ourselves,  of  God,  which  will 
 deepen  our  piety,  enhance  our  happiness, 
 give  purer  flame  to  our  love,  stronger 
 wings  to  our  faith,  and  richer  fulness  to 
 our  pleasures  for  evermore.  Ibid. 
 
 EVIL— Growth  of. 
 
 Some  years  ago  a  Scotchman  took  with 
 him,  from  inconsiderateness  or  strong  na- 
 tional feeling,  some  Scotch  thistle-seed  to 
 Australia.  Accidentally,  or  with  intention, 
 he  scattered  it.  In  a  very  short  time 
 the  thistle  spread  to  such  an  extent  and 
 committed  such  ravages  among  the  pro- 
 ducts of  cultivated  lands,  that  an  act  of 
 parliament  was  passed  for  its  destruction. 
 
 Let  evil  be  sown  in  the  heart  or  in 
 society,  in  any  way  or  from  any  cause,  and 
 it  will  rapidly  grow  and  strengthen  until 
 the  denunciations  of  the  law  and  the  atone- 
 ment of  the  Gospel  will  be  required  to 
 effect  its  restraint  and  destruction. 
 
 We  see  in  almost  all  lands,  however  cul- 
 tivated, that  weeds  will  grow  more  rank 
 and  rapid  than  serviceable  vegetation.  No- 
 thing less  than  the  total  ttprooting  of  them 
 and  the  extinction  of  the  seeds  will  prevent 
 their  growth  and  propagation.  So  moral 
 evil  springs  up  quicker  and  grows  faster 
 in  all  kinds  of  human  nature,  than  good. 
 Only  the  destruction  of  sin  by  the  power 
 of  the  Gospel,  and  constant  watchfulness 
 and  diligence  exercised  by  the  grace  of  the 
 same,  can  prevent  its  growth.  Ibid. 
 
 EVIL— Origin  of. 
 
 The  Scriptures  do  not  pretend  (as  some 
 have  rashly  imagined)  to  clear  up  this  awful 
 mystery  :  they  give  us  no  explanation  of  the 
 original  cause  of  the  evil  that  exists,  but 
 they  teach  us  how  to  avoid  its  effects ;  and 
 since  they  leave  this  great  and  perplexing 
 question  just  where  they  find  it,  it  is  better 
 for  us  to  leave  it  among  "  the  secret  things 
 which  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God,"  and 
 to  occupy  ourselves  with  "  the  things  which 
 are  revealed,"  and  which  concern  us  prac- 
 tically,— which  "  belong  unto  us  and  to  our 
 children,"  that  we  may  "  do  all  the  words 
 of  God's  law."  Archbishop  Whatele^. 
 
 EVIL  DEEDS. 
 
 Kor  all  that  heralds  rake  from  coffin'd  clay, 
 
 Nor  florid  prose,  nor  honied  lies  of  rhyme. 
 
 Can  blazon  evil  deeds,  or  consecrated  crime. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 EVIL  FOR  EVIL— not  Noble. 
 
 What  a  noise  and  a  buzz  does  the  pitiful 
 little  gnat  make,  and  how  sharply  does  it 
 sting,  while  the  eagle  passes  the  air  in 
 silence,  and  never  descends  but  to  a  nol  le 
 and  an  equal  prey !  He,  therefore,  that 
 thinks  he  shows  boldness  or  height  of  mind 
 by  a  scurrilous  reply  to  a  scurrilous  provo- 
 cation, measures  himself  by  a  false  stan- 
 dard, and  acts  not  the  spirit  of  a  man,  l)ut 
 the  spleen  of  a  wasp.  Dr.  South. 
 
 EVIL  REPORTS- Hearing. 
 
 The  longer  I  live,  the  more  I  feel  the 
 importance  of  adhering  to  the  rules  which 
 I  have  laid  down  for  myself  in  relation  to 
 such  matters.  1.  To  hear  as  little  as  pos- 
 sible of  whatever  is  to  the  prejudice  of 
 others.  2.  To  believe  nothing  of  the  kind 
 till  I  am  absolutely  forced  to  it.  3.  Never 
 to  drink  in  the  spirit  of  one  who  circulates 
 an  ill  repoi't.  4.  Always  to  moderate,  as 
 far  as  I  can,  the  unkindness  expressed  to- 
 wards others.  5.  Always  to  believe  that  if 
 the  other  side  were  heard,  a  very  diflerent 
 account  would  be  given  of  the  matter. 
 
 Simeon. 
 EVIL-SPEAKING— Cure  of. 
 
 When  will  talkers  refrain  from  evil- 
 speaking?  When  listeners  refrain  from 
 evil-hearing.  At  present  there  are  many 
 so  credulous  of  evil,  they  will  receive  sus- 
 picions and  impressions  against  perscms 
 whom  they  don't  know,  from  a  person 
 whom  they  do  know — an  authority  to  lie 
 good  for  nothing.  Hare. 
 
 EVIL-SPEAKING— Sin  of. 
 
 Remember,  therefore,  this  contradicts 
 your  nature  and  your  destiny;  to  speak  ill 
 of  others  makes  you  a  monster  in  God's 
 world.  Get  the  habit  of  slander,  and  then 
 there  is  not  a  stream  which  bubbles  fresh 
 from  the  heart  of  nature — there  is  not  a 
 tree  that  silently  brings  forth  its  genial 
 fruit  in  its  appointed  seasons,  which  does 
 not  rebuke  and  proclaim  you  a  monstrous 
 anomaly  in  God's  world.    F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 EVILS— Fancy  of  Good  in. 
 Who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand. 
 By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  ? 
 Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite. 
 By  bare  imagination  of  a  feast  ? 
 Or  wallow  naked  in  December  snow, 
 By  thinking  on  fantastic  summer's  heat  ? 
 Oh,  no  !  th'  apprehension  of  the  good 
 Gives  but  the  greater  feeling  to  the  worse  : 
 Fell  sorrow's  tooth  doth  never  rankle  more 
 Than  when  it  bites,  but  lanceth  not  the  sore. 
 Shakespeare. 
 EVILS— Good  of. 
 
 One  shipwreck  is  worth  a  thousand 
 sermons  to  demonstrate  the  instability  of 
 
310 
 
 EVILS— EXAGGERATION. 
 
 fortune ;  one  death  in  a  family  is  wortli  a 
 tliousand  homilies  to  prove  the  transitori- 
 ness  of  earthly  blessing ;  the  hiding  of  our 
 patron's  countenance  will  sooner  blanch 
 the  cheek  of  ambition  than  the  tragedy  of 
 Wolsey's  fall ;  one  falsehood  detected  will 
 read  a  better  lesson  upon  truth ;  one  hy- 
 pocrisy uncovered,  one  stratagem  out- 
 witted, one  crime  punished  in  our  own 
 person,  will  do  more  to  put  the  soul  to 
 shame  and  confusion,  and  prepare  it  for 
 reason  and  reflection,  for  faith  and  re- 
 pentance, than  many  sermons  and  many 
 prayers.  E.  Irving. 
 
 EVILS  (Physical)— Good  of. 
 
 The  thunderstorm  that  wields  the  bolt 
 of  death  refreshes  the  parched  earth,  and 
 purifies  the  air.  The  force  of  gravitation, 
 which  causes  concussions,  and  renders  a 
 fall  often  fatal,  serves  to  keep  all  move- 
 able things  stable  on  the  surface  of  the 
 earth  ;  otherwise,  every  living  thing  might 
 be  thrown  off  by  its  rotations.  The  winds 
 that,  sometimes,  concentrating  their  forces, 
 produce  storms  and  hurricanes,  or  lash  the 
 sea  into  foam,  and  carry  down  our  floating 
 castles  to  destruction,  bear  on  their  bosom 
 the  moistening  vapours  which  render  earth 
 fertile,  and  air  soft  and  balmy.  They  dis- 
 perse, too,  the  pestilential  exhalations  that 
 arise  from  foetid  and  decaying  matter; 
 thus  shedding  from  their  wings  the  dews 
 of  life,  and  carrying  away  vapours  of  death 
 to  be  purified,  and  rendered  harmless  by 
 fresh  chemical  combinations.  Yea,  even 
 those  convulsive  movements  which  arise 
 from  unseen  workings  of  nature's  dark 
 laboratory — earthquakes  and  upheavings — 
 that  sometimes  spread  destruction  in  their 
 course,  are  merciful  provisions  against  the 
 wear  and  tear  of  ages,  which,  by  their  dis- 
 integrating process,  would  level  the  earth 
 into  a  plain,  and  cover  it  with  ocean. 
 
 T.  Har/ff. 
 EXAGGERATION- Formation  of. 
 
 We  read  once  an  amusing  account  of 
 the  manner  in  which  the  plagiarist  minis- 
 ter in  England  managed  to  preach  sermons 
 from  the  great  English  divines,  and  es- 
 cape detection.  He  said  he  first  translated 
 the  seimuns  into  Welsh,  then  re-translated 
 them  into  English,  and  after  the  double 
 process  he  would  ciiallenge  any  hearer  to 
 recognise  the  original.  Many  reports  that 
 circulate  in  society  pass  through  similar 
 transformations,  and  it  would  puzzle  a 
 sharp  critic  to  detect  the  resemblance  be- 
 tween the  original  and  subsequent  version. 
 How  naturally  this  happens  is  shown  in 
 the  following  paragraph : 
 
 There  is  a  game  called  Russian  Scandal, 
 which  is  played  in  this  fashion:— A  tells 
 B  a  brief  narrative  which  B  is  to  repeat  to 
 C,  and  C  to  D,  and  so  on.     No  one  is  to 
 
 hear  it  told  more  than  once,  and  each  is  to 
 aim  at  scrupulous  accuracy  in  the  repe- 
 tition. By  the  time  the  narrative  has 
 been  transmitted  from  mouth  to  mouth 
 six  or  seven  times  it  has  commonly  under- 
 gone a  complete  transformation.  The  or- 
 dinary result  of  the  experiment  will  afford 
 an  apt  illustration  of  the  value  of  oral 
 testimony  in  times  when  the  marvellous 
 had  an  especial  attraction  for  all  classes. 
 "  The    flying   rumours  gathered  as  they 
 
 rolled ; 
 Scarce  any  tale  was  sooner  heard  than  told. 
 And  all  who  told  it  added  something  new, 
 And  all  who  heard  it  made  enlargements 
 
 too; 
 In  every  ear  it  spread,  on  every  tongue  it 
 
 grew."  Dr.  Jeffers. 
 
 EXAGGERATION— Habit  of. 
 
 The  habit  of  exaggeration,  like  dram- 
 drinking,  becomes  a  slavish  necessary,  and 
 they  who  practise  it  pass  their  lives  in  a  kind 
 of  mental  telescope,  through  whose  magni- 
 fying medium  they  look  upon  themselves  and 
 everything  around  them.  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 EXAGGERATION— "Wealmess  of. 
 
 I  knew  a  lady  whose  screams  at  the  sight 
 of  a  spider  were  almost  as  loud  as  if  the 
 house  were  on  fire ;  and  a  gentleman,  who 
 seldom  spoke  of  a  common  shower  without 
 using  the  expression,  "  It  rained  cats  and 
 dogs,"  and  the  consequence  was,  that  the 
 scream  of  th  e  one  seldom  alarmed  me,  and  the 
 descriptionof  theotherseldom  surprised  me. 
 Young  people  will  soon  be  aware,  if  their 
 teachers  are  in  the  habit,  in  this  sense,  of 
 making  much  out  of  little.  Avoid  all  ex- 
 aggeration, and  ie  sober,  modest,  and 
 truthful  in  all  t/otir  olservations. 
 
 A  whining  beggar,  who  took  up  his 
 accustomed  stand  at  the  corner  of  a  street, 
 accosted  a  Quaker,  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
 passing  that  way.  "  Have  pity  upon  me," 
 said  he,  "  and  give  me  a  halfpenny  to  buy 
 me  a  bit  of  bread,  for  I  have  not  broken 
 my  fast  to-day."  "I  should  pity  thee," 
 replied  the  Quaker,  "  if  I  believed  thee,  but 
 as  thou  hast  said  exactly  the  same  thing 
 every  day  for  the  last  fortnight,  I  do  nob 
 believe  there  is  a  word  of  trutb  in  thy 
 story."  G.  Mogridge. 
 
 EXAGGERATION  IN  RELIGION. 
 
 I  have  known  a  professor  of  religion, 
 whose  hyperbole  was  so  inveterate  a  beset- 
 ment,  that  he  couldn't  always  escape  it, 
 even  in  his  social  prayers.  It  gave  a  co- 
 louring, a  dramatic  rouge,  to  his  state- 
 ments of  personal  experience,  to  his  ac- 
 counts of  providences  that  befell  him,  or 
 of  privileges  vouchsafed  to  him,  that 
 marred  the  usefulness  of  what  he  did  by 
 the  incredibleness  of  what  he  said.  Na 
 wise  nor  modest  man  will  ever  voluntarily 
 
EXAGGERATOE— EXAMPLE. 
 
 311 
 
 subject  his  personal  testimony  to  collision 
 with  probability ;  for  the  public  will 
 usually  prefer  judging  for  themselves,  as 
 they  can  in  the  latter  case,  rather  than 
 waive  their  right  of  judgment  in  deference 
 to  individual  statement.  The  slightest 
 taint  of  untruthfulness  in  a  religious  pro- 
 fessor grievously  compromises,  with  the 
 worldly,  the  profession  of  religion.  The 
 world  doesn't  distinguish,  though  it  ought 
 to  do,  between  the  religion  and  the  pro- 
 fessor; both  are  involved  in  the  disloyalty 
 of  the  disciple — like  the  priests  who  sneered 
 at  the  remorse  of  the  betrayer,  but  pur- 
 sued to  the  crucifix  his  outraged  Lord  and 
 Master.  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 EXAGGEKATOR— Description  of  the. 
 
 Some  men  can  never  state  an  ordinary 
 fact  in  ordinary  terms.  "  All  their  geese 
 are  swans,"  till  you  see  the  birds.  Per- 
 haps from  an  indefinite  consciousness  of 
 inability  to  engage  attention  by  their 
 dearth  of  interesting  realities,  they  work 
 up  the  commonest  materials  into  the  most 
 showy  romances,  stirring  up  the  smallest 
 homoeopathic  sediment  of  truth  into  co- 
 louring matter  enough  for  hogsheads  of 
 the  adulterated  article.  This  is  a  species 
 of  moral  petty  larceny  as  disreputable  to 
 the  delinquent  as  it  is  detrimental  to 
 society.  His  testimony  is  not  relied  on. 
 His  authentication  of  a  rumour  reacts  as 
 its  conti-adiction ;  and  he  betrays  his  con- 
 viction of  the  just  retaliation  of  the  ijublic 
 distrust,  by  welcoming  the  corroboration 
 of  anybody  as  better  than  his  own  ;  or 
 else  anticipates  the  discount  by  which  his 
 statements  will  be  reduced,  by  an  exor- 
 bitancy of  assertion  that  leaves  him  a 
 balance  after  alL  But  peojjle  are  not 
 easily  deceived  again  and  again.  His 
 credit  is  damaged — his  moral  bills  dis- 
 honoured. His  extravagance  of  diction, 
 like  extravagance  of  expenditure,  involves 
 him  in  difficulties,  excommunicates  him 
 from  public  confidence ;  and  thus  the  im- 
 mediate  fate  of  mendacity  symbolises  that 
 awful  retribution  which  will  finally  exclude 
 "all  liars,"  i.  e.  all  kinds  of  liars,  from  the 
 society  of  the  good  and  true.  Ibid. 
 
 EXALTATION— Danger  of. 
 
 A  beadle  having  occasion  to  mount  to  a 
 considerable  height  on  a  ladder,  for  the 
 purpose  of  examining  the  church  spire, 
 complained  that  the  thought  of  his  situa- 
 tion made  him  shudder,  and  that  when  he 
 looked  either  to  the  earth  below  him,  or  to 
 the  clouds  flying  over  his  head,  he  was 
 seized  with  giddiness,  and  was  afraid  of 
 falling.  Gotthold  heard  this,  and  thought 
 with  himself.  We  all  attempt  to  climb 
 aloft,  and  even  when  we  succeed,  Jind  that 
 ice  have  only  been  climbing  into  danger. 
 To  him  who  has  mounted  as  high  as  he 
 
 can,  nothing  is  left  but  to  descend,  per- 
 haps to  fall.  Though  unmolested  by  otlicrs, 
 his  own  pride,  the  fatal  giddiness  of  lofty 
 heads,  will  bring  him  down.  He,  there- 
 fore, acts  the  most  prudent  part  who,  by 
 humility,  abases  himself,  and  so  prevents  a 
 fall.  Exaltation  even  in  temporal  matters, 
 is  full  of  danger.  What  wonder,  then, 
 that  in  spiritual  and  holy  exercises  he 
 should  incur  the  greatest  peril  who  has 
 soared  highest  and  approached  nearest  to 
 perfection,  in  so  far  as  that  is  attainable 
 in  this  imperfect  state.  Were  it  not  so, 
 would  Paul  have  needed  sore  temptations 
 and  messengers  of  Satan  to  keep  him  from 
 being  exalted  above  measure,  through  the 
 abundance  of  the  revelations  given  him, 
 and  the  arduous  but  successful  discharge 
 of  his  apostolic  duties  ?  (2  Cor.  xii,  7). 
 This  is  the  reason  why  the  royal  prophet 
 says,  "By  humbling  me  Thou  hast  made 
 me  great"  (Ps.  xviii,  35,  Luth.  vers.). 
 He  intends  to  tell  us  that  no  one  can  be 
 truly  great  and  exalted  and  feel  secure  in 
 the  possession  of  his  advantages,  unless 
 God  exalt  and  confirm  him  by  humiliation. 
 The  first  step  to  perfection  is  to  know  our- 
 selves and  our  nothingness,  as  the  last  anid 
 highest  is  unconsciousness  of  our  attain- 
 ments. He  who  is  high,  and  is  awai-e  of 
 his  height,  has  akeady  begun  to  totter, 
 and  had  better  never  have  risen  than  have 
 risen  only  to  fall.  Gotthold. 
 
 EXAMPLE— an  Educator. 
 
 But  what  are  the  great  educators  of 
 the  world — those  who  insensibly  mould  us, 
 or  to  which  we  resort  for  influence  upon 
 our  own  or  others'  lives  ?  Are  they  moral 
 maxims,  wise  sayings,  proverbs,  and  "  saws  ?" 
 Is  it  not  rather  example  ?  These  axioms 
 and  maxims,  proverbs  and  precepts,  are 
 but  the  instruments  by  which  we  clench 
 the  truths  which  example  has  driven  into 
 the  mind.  They  are  the  labels  which  we 
 affix  to  the  illustrated  lessons — the  pictures 
 and  the  models.  At  all  events,  we  none  of 
 us  begin  to  live  by  principles.  These  may 
 come  afterwards  to  be  our  sufficient  in- 
 structors, but  I  much  doubt  whether  one  in 
 a  hundred  men  has  ever  adopted  a  principle 
 of  life  until  some  signal  example  of  it  has 
 convinced  him  of  its  worth. 
 
 G.  W.  Conder, 
 
 EXAMPLE— Evil  Influence  of. 
 
 Be  vicious,  and  viciousness  may  go  down 
 as  an  heirloom  in  half  a  hundred  families  ; 
 be  inconsistent,  and  enmity  to  the  Gospel 
 may  be  propagated  over  a  parish ;  give  oc- 
 casi(ms  of  ofl'ence,  and  many  may  fall; 
 those  who  are  entering  in  the  narrow  way 
 may  be  discouraged,  and  those  who  have 
 already  entered  may  be  made  to  stumble. 
 Ye  live  not  for  yourselves  ;  ye  cannot  live 
 for  yourselves;   a  thousand  fibres  connect 
 
312 
 
 EXAMPLE. 
 
 you  with  your  fellow-men,  and  along  those 
 fibres,  as  along  sympathetic  threads,  run 
 your  actions  as  causes,  and  return  to  you 
 as  effects.  H.  Mel'vill. 
 
 EXAMPLE— Parental. 
 
 Any  fault  in  a  parent,  any  inconsistency, 
 any  disproportion  between  profession  and 
 practice,  or  precept  and  practice,  falls  upon 
 the  child's  eye  with  the  force  and  precision 
 of  suuLeams  on  a  daguerreotype  plate. 
 Did  he  reiich  his  conclusions  by  reasoning, 
 they  might  be  controverted  or  set  aside; 
 hut  they  come  to  him  by  a  swifter,  surer 
 process — by  instinct,  by  intuition,  by  that 
 mysterious  wisdom,  that  "life  hid  in  God," 
 which  is  in  children,  and  from  whose  ver- 
 dicts there  lies  no  appeal.  Parents  may 
 well  tremble  as  they  feel  God  watching 
 them  through  the  loop-hole  of  a  child's 
 eye,  and  hear  the  voice  of  the  supreme 
 Judge  accosting  them,  in  those  artless  ac- 
 cents which  sometimes  sound  to  their  con- 
 science like  syllables  of  doom.  But  apart 
 from  all  considerations  of  awe,  the  parent 
 should  be  impelled  by  motives  of  love 
 to  contribute  this  most  important  ele- 
 ment to  the  proper  training  of  the  child, 
 who  is  a  creature  of  imitation,  and  who  will 
 copy  even  that  conduct  which  his  instinct 
 condemns.  He  should  stand  up  before  his 
 family  consciously  as  a  model ;  and  should 
 rejoice  in  nothing  so  much  as  seeing  his 
 well-regulated  life,  and  dignified  bearing, 
 and  benevolent  feelings,  insensibly  imbibed 
 by,  and  gradually  reappearing  in,  his 
 children.  Gilfillan. 
 
 A  mother  relates  the  following  seemingly 
 trifling  incident,  which  forcibly  illustrates 
 the  importance  and  power  of  parental  ex- 
 ample : 
 
 "  As  I  was  about  to  enter  my  nursery, 
 to  look  after  my  little  ones,  I  observed  the 
 youngest,  a  boy  of  three  years  of  age,  look- 
 ing over  a  book,  which  he  had  taken  from 
 a  shelf,  resembling  a  family  Bible  used 
 before  morning  and  evening  prayer. 
 
 "  Struck  with  the  unusual  solemnity  of 
 his  manner,  I  watched  his  movements. 
 With  great  precision,  and  apparent  devo- 
 tion, he  went  through  the  exercise  of  read- 
 ing and  singing,  and  kneeling  for  prayer, 
 in  imitation  of  his  father's  daily  example. 
 And  never  was  manner,  voice,  or  gesture, 
 more  properly  copied.  Trifling  as  was 
 this  circumstance,  so  deep  and  solemn  was 
 the  impression  made  upon  my  mind,  that  to 
 this  time  I  feel  myself  mentally  exclaim- 
 ing, '  What  manner  of  persons  ought  we 
 to  be,  in  all  holy  conversation  and  holi- 
 ness !' 
 
 "Never  till  that  moment  had  my  mind 
 dwelt  upon  this  momentous  fact,  "though 
 so  oft  repeated,  that  the  future  characters 
 and  eternal  destinies  of  children  are  usually. 
 
 at  a  very  early  period,  stamped  by  parental 
 example;  and  1  now  felt  what  an  amazirg 
 influence  must  be  exerted  upon  young 
 children  by  the  manner  in  wliich  their 
 parents  conduct  family  prayer."  Anon, 
 
 EXAMPLE— Power  of. 
 
 The  ancient  Romans  were  accustomed  to 
 place  the  busts  of  their  distinguished  an- 
 cestors in  the  vestibules  of  their  houses, 
 that  they  might  be  continually  reminded 
 of  their  noble  deeds.  They  supposed  that 
 a  recollection  of  their  illustrious  virtues 
 would  lead  to  the  imitation  of  the  same  by 
 all  the  living  members  of  their  households. 
 There  is  no  doubt  that  the  influence  of 
 this  practice  was  most  happy  upon  the 
 living,  awakening,  in  many  breasts,  high 
 and  noble  aspirations.  At  any  rate,  history 
 records  the  names  of  many  renowned 
 Romans,  who  descended  from  the  families 
 in  which  this  custom  was  observed.  The 
 young  grew  up  to  reverence  the  worthies 
 whose  statues  they  daily  saw,  and  to  emu. 
 late  the  virtues  which  gave  their  ancestors 
 such  lasting  fame.  We  can  easily  conceive 
 how  the  sight  of  these  images,  as  the 
 young  went  out  and  came  in,  day  after  day, 
 and  week  after  week,  would  impi-ess  the.r 
 hearts  for  good.  The  impression  of  a 
 single  day  therefrom,  though  very  small 
 in  itself,  yet  oft  repeated  could  not  fail  to 
 be  deep. 
 
 In  these  days  we  have  no  busts  of 
 honoured  ancestors  in  the  porches  of  our 
 dwellings,  but  we  have  something  more 
 impressive.  The  characters  of  living 
 parents  are  constantly  presented  for  the 
 imitation  of  children.  Their  example  is 
 continually  sending  forth  a  silent  power  to 
 mould  young  hearts  for  good  or  ill;  not 
 for  a  single  month  or  year,  but  through 
 the  whole  impressible  period  of  childhood 
 and  youth,  the  influence  of  parental  ex- 
 ample is  thus  felt.  If  it  be  constituted  of 
 the  highest  and  purest  elements,  the  results 
 will  be  unspeakably  precious.  Sons  and 
 daughters  will  become  patterns  of  propriety 
 and  goodness,  because  their  parents  are  such. 
 The  former  will  be  as  "  plants  grown  up  in 
 their  youth,"  and  the  latter  as  "  corner- 
 stones  polished  after  the  similitude  of  a 
 palace."  Ibid. 
 
 EXAMPLE— for  Royalty. 
 
 There  is  at  the  top  of  the  Queen's  stair- 
 case in  Windsor  Castle  a  statue  from  the 
 studio  of  Baron  Triqueti,  of  Edward  VI, 
 marking  with  his  sceptre  a  passage  in  the 
 Bible,  which  he  holds  in  his  left  hand,  and 
 upon  which  he  earnestly  looks.  The  pas- 
 sage is  that  concerning  Josiah  : — "  Josiah 
 ivas  eight  years  old  tvJien  he  began  to  reign, 
 and  he  reigned  thirty  and  one  years  in 
 Jerusalem.     And  he  did   that  which  was 
 
EXAMPLE. 
 
 313 
 
 ri()'ht  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  icalked 
 in  all  the  toay  of  David  his  father,  and 
 turjied  not  aside  to  the  right  hand  or  to 
 the  left."  The  statue  was  erected  by  the 
 will  of  the  late  prince,  who  intended  it  to 
 convey  to  his  son  the  Divine  principles  by 
 which  the  future  governor  of  England 
 should  mould  his  life  and  reign  on  the 
 throne  of  Great  Britain.  T.  Hughes. 
 
 EXAMPLE— Self-propagating. 
 
 Example  is  like  the  press  :  a  thing 
 done  is  the  thought  printed ;  it  may  be 
 repeated,  if  it  cannot  be  recalled ;  it  has 
 gone  forth  with  a  self-propagating  power, 
 and  may  run  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and 
 descend  from  generation  to  generation. 
 
 H.  Melvill. 
 
 EXAMPLE— Voice  of. 
 
 A  man  was  once  boasting  to  another  of 
 being  a  constant  church-goer.  "  Give  me," 
 said  he,  "  one  that  attends  to  the  duties  of 
 the  Sabbath,  for  he  is  the  only  one  to  be 
 trusted  through  the  week.  I  never  neglect 
 going  to  church  myself,  hail  or  shine,  wet 
 or  dry,  winter  or  summer;  you  know,  when 
 you  have  been  at  church,  you  have  always 
 seen  me  in  my  pew."  "  I  have,"  replied 
 the  other,  "  and  so  sure  as  you  have  been 
 there,  so  sure  have  I  seen  you  fast  asleep 
 in  the  corner  of  it." 
 
 Two  well-dressed  persons,  walking  along 
 the  street  on  a  bleak  winter's  day,  met  a 
 poor  old  woman  shivering  in  a  thin  shawl, 
 instead  of  being  wrapped  up  in  a  good 
 warm  cloak.  One  of  them  stopped  to  speak 
 to  her,  pitied  her  very  much,  told  her  that 
 her  clothes  were  not  at  all  fit  for  winter, 
 and  that  he  liked  to  see  poor  people  taken 
 care  of.  Again  and  again  he  told  her  how 
 sorry  he  was  for  her  condition,  and  ended 
 all  his  remarks  by  promising  to  give  her 
 sixpence  when  he  next  met  her.  The 
 other  person,  though  he  never  so  much  as 
 opened  his  mouth,  was  seen  to  slip,  in  a 
 quiet  way,  half-a-crown  into  the  poor 
 woman's  hand. 
 
 Some  labouring  men  who  suspected  a 
 companion  of  drinking  oftener  than  he 
 ought  to  do  at  the  wooden  bottle,  put  a 
 little  black  paint  round  the  mouth  of  it. 
 The  drinker,  as  usual,  slily  embraced  the 
 first  opportunity  of  taking  a  long  draught 
 at  the  bottle,  being  altogether  ignorant  of 
 what  his  comrades  had  d(me.  Presently 
 there  was  a  cry  that  somebody  had  been  at 
 the  wooden  bottle,  when  the  drinker,  with 
 a  black  ring  round  his  lips,  bawled  out 
 that  he  was  innocent  of  it  as  the  child 
 that  was  unborn.  "  We  might  have  be- 
 lieved you,"  replied  his  companions,  "  only, 
 loud  as  your  tongue  is,  your  lips  are  a 
 great  deal  louder."  Q.  Mogridge. 
 
 EXAMPLE  AND  PEECEPT. 
 
 A  system  of  precepts,  though  exquisitely 
 compacted,  is,  in  comparison,  but  a  skeleton 
 — a  dry,  meagre,  lifeless  bulk;  exhibiting 
 nothing  of  person,  place,  time,  manner, 
 degree,  wherein  chiefly  the  flesh  and  blood, 
 the  colour  and  graces,  the  life  and  soul  of 
 things  do  consist,  whereby  they  please, 
 affect,  and  move  us;  but  example  imparts 
 thereto  a  goodly  corpulency,  a  life,  a  mo- 
 tion ;  renders  it  conspicuous,  specious,  and 
 active,  transforming  its  notional  universal- 
 ity into  the  reality  of  singular  subsistence. 
 Dr.  Barroio. 
 
 There  is  no  doubt  but  a  good  example 
 doth  far  more  effectually  instruct  than 
 good  precepts;  because  it  doth  not  only 
 express  the  same  virtues  that  the  precepts 
 enjoin,  but  also  expresses  them  with  much 
 more  grace  and  emphasis.  For  whereas 
 precepts  and  discourses  of  virtue  are  only 
 the  dead  pictures  and  artificial  landscapes 
 and  descriptions  of  it,  a  virtuous  example 
 is  virtue  itself;  informed  and  animated, 
 alive  and  in  motion,  exerting  and  exhibiting 
 itself  in  all  its  natural  charms  and  graces. 
 And,  therefore,  as  we  know  a  man  much 
 better  when  we  see  him  alive  and  in  action 
 than  when  we  only  see  his  picture ;  so  we 
 understand  virtue  much  better  when  we 
 see  it  living  and  acting  in  a  good  example 
 than  when  we  only  behold  it  described  and 
 pictured  in  various  precepts  and  discourses. 
 J.  Scott. 
 
 Mathematicians  demonstrate  their  theo- 
 rems by  schemes  and  diagrams,  which,  in 
 effect,  are  but  sensible  instances;  orators 
 back  their  eitthi/memes  (or  rational  argu- 
 mentations) with  inductions  (or  singular 
 examples);  philosophers  allege  the  practice 
 of  Socrates,  Zeno,  and  the  like  persons  of 
 famous  wisdom  and  virtue,  to  authorise 
 their  doctrine ;  politics  and  civil  prudence 
 is  more  easily  and  sweetly  drawn  out  of 
 good  history  than  out  of  books  de  Eepub- 
 lica.  Artificers  describe  models  and  set 
 patterns  before  their  disciples,  with  greater 
 success  than  if  they  should  deliver  accurate 
 rules  and  precepts  to  them.  For  who 
 would  not  more  readily  learn  to  build  by 
 viewing  carefully  the  parts  and  framework 
 of  a  well-contrived  structure,  than  by  a 
 studious  inquiry  into  the  rules  of  architec- 
 ture ?  or  to  draw,  by  setting  a  good  picture 
 before  him,  than  by  merely  speculating 
 upon  the  laws  of  perspective  ?  or  to  write 
 fairly  and  expeditely  by  imitating  one  good 
 copy,  than  by  hearkening  to  a  thousand 
 oral  prescriptions,  the  understanding  of 
 which  a  faculty  of  applying  them  to  prac- 
 tice may  prove  more  difficult  and  tedious, 
 than  the  whole  practice  itself  as  directed 
 by  a  copy.  Dr.  Barrow. 
 
314 
 
 EXAKPLE— EXCELLIFCE. 
 
 EXAMPLE  AlTD  PRECEPT. 
 
 It  was  Xeuoplion's  observation,  grounded 
 upon  his  own  experience,  that  the  memory 
 of  Soci'ates'  conversation  did  greatly  profit 
 his  acquaintance.  And  Seneca  saith  that 
 the  crowd  of  philosophers  which  followed 
 the  same  wise  man  derived  more  of  their 
 ethics  from  his  manners  than  his  words. 
 And  he  that  shall  reflect  upon  the  story 
 concerning  his  behaviour  when  he  was  by 
 malicious  envy  persecuted  to  death,  may 
 perhaps  be  more  edified  thereby  than  by 
 all  his  subtle  discourses  about  death  and 
 the  soul's  state  after  it.  Dr.  Barroiu. 
 
 EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST— Attractive. 
 
 His  was  a  gentle  and  steady  light,  bright 
 indeed,  but  not  dazzling  the  eye ;  warm, 
 but  not  scorching  the  face  of  the  most  in- 
 tent beholder ;  no  aftected  singularities,  no 
 supercilious  morosities,  no  frivolous  osten- 
 tations of  seemingly  high  hut  really  fruit- 
 less performances;  nothing  that  might 
 deter  a  timorous,  discourage  a  weak,  or 
 ofiend  a  scrupulous  disciple,  is  observable 
 in  His  practice ;  but,  on  the  contrary.  His 
 conversation  was  full  of  lowliness  and  con- 
 descension, of  meekness  and  sweetness,  of 
 openness  and  candid  simplicity ;  apt  to  in- 
 vite and  allure  all  men  to  approach  townrd 
 it,  and  with  satisfaction  to  enjoy  it.      Ibid. 
 
 EXAMPLE  OP  CHRIST— in  Devotion. 
 
 His  devotions  (though  exceedingly 
 sprightly  and  fervent)  were  not  usually 
 extended  to  a  tedious  and  exhausting 
 durance,  nor  strained  into  ecstatical  trans- 
 ports, charming  the  natural  senses,  and 
 overpowering  the  reason ;  but  calm,  steady, 
 and  regular,  sucii  as  persons  of  honest  in- 
 tention and  hearty  desire  (though  not  en- 
 dued with  high  fancy,  or  stirring  passion) 
 might  readily  imitate.  Ibid. 
 
 EXAMPLE  OP  CHRIST— in  Duty. 
 
 His  whole  life  was  spent  in  exercise  of 
 the  most  easy  and  pleasant,  yet  most  ne- 
 cessary and  substantial  duties;  obedience 
 to  God,  charity,  meekness,  humility,  pa- 
 tience, and  the  like;  the  which,  that  He 
 might  practise  with  the  greatest  latitude, 
 and  with  most  advantage  for  general  imi- 
 tation. He  did  not  addict  Himself  to  any 
 particular  way  of  life,  but  disentangled 
 Himself  from  all  worldly  care  and  busi- 
 ness ;  choosing  to  appear  in  the  most  free, 
 though  very  mean  condition ;  that  He 
 might  indifferently  instruct,  by  His  ex- 
 ample, jjersons  of  all  callings,  degrees,  and 
 capacities ;  especially  the  most,  that  is, 
 the  poor ;  and  might  have  opportunity,  in 
 the  face  of  the  world,  to  practise  the  most 
 difficult  of  necessary  duties;  lowliness,  con- 
 tentedness,  abstinence  from  pleasure,  con- 
 tempt of  the  world,  sufferance  of  injuries 
 and  reproaches.  Ibid. 
 
 EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST— Imitable. 
 
 Thus  suited  and  tempered  by  Divine 
 wisdom  was  the  life  of  our  blessed  Saviour, 
 that  all  sorts  of  men  might  be  in  an  equal 
 capacity  to  follow  Him,  that  none  might 
 be  oft'ended,  affrighted,  or  discouraged ; 
 but  that  all  might  be  pleased,  delighted, 
 enamoured,  with  the  homely  majesty  and 
 plain  beauty  thereof.  And  in  effect  so  it 
 happened,  that  ordinary  people  (the  weak- 
 est, but  sincerest  and  unprejudiced  sort  of 
 men)  were  greatly  taken  with,  most  ad- 
 mired, and  applauded  His  deportment; 
 many  of  them  readily  embracing  His  doc- 
 trine, and  devoting  themselves  to  His  dis- 
 cipline ;  while  only  the  proud,  envious, 
 covetous,  and  ambitious  scribes  and  law- 
 yers  rejected  His  excellent  doctrine,  scorned 
 the  heavenly  simplicity  and  holy  integrity 
 of  His  life.  Dr.  Barrow, 
 
 EXAMPLE  OP  CHRIST— Public. 
 
 He  did  not  seclude  Himself  into  the 
 constant  retirements  of  a  cloister,  nor  into 
 the  farther  recesses  of  a  wilderness  (as 
 some  others  have  done),  but  conversed 
 freely  and  indifferently  with  all  sorts  of 
 men,  even  the  most  contemptible  and 
 odious  sort  of  men,  publicans  and  sinners ; 
 like  the  sun,  with  an  impartial  bounty 
 liberally  imparting  his  pleasant  light  and 
 comfortable  warmth  to  all.  Ibid, 
 
 EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST— Simple. 
 
 He  used  no  uncouth  austerities  in  habit 
 or  diet;  but  complied,  in  His  garb,  with 
 ordinary  usage,  and  sustained  His  life  with 
 such  food  as  carnal  opportunity  did  offer; 
 so  that  His  indifferency  in  that  kind  yielded 
 matter  of  obloquy  against  Him  from  the 
 fond  admirers  of  a  humorous  preciseness. 
 
 Ibid. 
 EXAMPLE  OF  CHRIST— in  Teaching. 
 
 He  delighted  not  to  discourse  of  sub- 
 lime mysteries  (although  His  deep  wisdom 
 comprehended  all),  nor  of  subtle  specula- 
 tions and  intricate  questions,  such  as  might 
 amuse  and  perplex,  rather  than  instruct 
 and  profit  His  auditors;  but  usually  did 
 feed  his  auditors  with  the  most  common 
 and  useful  truths,  and  that  in  the  most 
 fiimiliar  and  intelligible  language ;  not 
 disdaining  the  use  of  vulgar  sayings  and 
 trivial  proverbs,  when  they  best  served  to 
 insinuate  His  wholesome  meaning  into 
 their  minds.  Ibid, 
 
 EXAMPLES— Failure  of. 
 
 Examples  would  indeed  be  excellent 
 things  were  not  people  so  modest  that 
 none  will  set,  and  so  vain  that  none  will 
 follow  them.  Hare. 
 
 EXCELLENCE— Human. 
 
 Human  excellence,  parted  from  God,  is 
 like  a  fabled  flower,  which,  according  to 
 
EXCELLENCE— EXISTENCE. 
 
 315 
 
 Rabbis,  Eve  pluclved  when  passing  out  of 
 Paradise — severed  from  its  native  root,  it 
 is  only  the  touching  memorial  of  a  lost 
 Eden ;  sad,  while  charming — beautiful,  but 
 dead.  C.  Stanford. 
 
 EXCELLENCE  AND  SUPERIORITY. 
 
 Excellence  is  an  absolute  term ;  supe- 
 riority is  a  relative  term ;  many  may  have 
 excellence  in  the  same  degree,  but  they 
 must  have  superiority  in  different  degrees ; 
 superiority  is  often  superior  excellence,  but 
 in  many  cases  they  are  applied  to  different 
 objects.  There  is  a  moral  excellence 
 attainable  by  all  who  have  the  will  to 
 strive  after  it ;  but  there  is  an  intellectual 
 and  physical  superiority  which  is  above 
 the  reach  of  our  wishes,  and  is  granted  to 
 a  few  only,  G.  Crahb. 
 
 EXCITEMENT  AND  EARNESTNESS. 
 
 The  one  is  of  impulse,  the  other  is  of 
 principle.  The  one  is  characteristic  only 
 of  an  easily-influenced,  emotional  nature, 
 the  other  is  abiding.  The  one  is  a  glow, 
 the  other  is  a  fire.  Excitement  is  common, 
 earnestness  is  scarce.  Excitement  theorises, 
 earnestness  acts.  Excitement  needs  com- 
 pany, earnestness  can  live  alone.  Excite- 
 ment is  a  Jehu,  and  cries  to  others,  "Come 
 with  me,  and  see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord," 
 earnestness  is  a  Paul,  and,  in  labours  more 
 abundant,  deems  itself  "  less  than  the 
 least  of  all  saints."  These  two  things  are 
 oftenei-  found  in  separation  tlian  in  union, 
 though  neither  is  incompatible  with  the 
 other.  C.  M.  Merry. 
 
 EXCLUSIVENESS— Divine  and  Human. 
 
 Human  exclusiveness  in  religion  is  more 
 than  any  one  ought  to  be  called  to  endure. 
 That  a  man,  like  myself,  should  exclude  me 
 from  grace  and  glory,  simply  because  I  do 
 not  think  and  speak  as  he  does  in  religious 
 doctrines ;  because  I  do  not  belong  to  the 
 same  section  of  the  Church  ;  because  I  do 
 not  adopt  his  form  of  church  government 
 and  worship, — is  indeed  more  than  any 
 free,  intelligent,  and  responsible  creature 
 of  God  ought  to  receive  from  his  fellow. 
 But  when  He  who  made  me,  preserves 
 me,  redeemed  me,  governs  me,  judges  me; 
 when  He  whose  I  am  declares,  "There 
 is  no  way  to  the  Father  but  by  Him ; 
 that  He  is  the  only  Mediator ;  that  other 
 foundation  no  man  can  lay  than  Himself; 
 tliat  he  that  believeth  not  in  Him  shall 
 be  damned,"  I  am  prepared  to  bow  before 
 this  exclusiveness,  as  an  exclusiveness  of 
 unerring  wisdom,  infallible  truth,  infinite 
 love,  an  exclusiveness  which  commends  it- 
 self to  my  judgment  and  acceptance. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 EXCOMMUNICATION. 
 
 There  were  three  degrees  of  excommu- 
 nication among  the   Jews.      The  first  is 
 
 what  is  called,  in  the  New  Testament, 
 casting  out  of  the  synagoyue,  and  signifies 
 a  separation  from  all  commerce  or  society  j 
 it  was  of  force  thirty  days,  but  might  be 
 shortened  by  repentance.  If  the  person 
 persisted  in  his  obstinacy  after  the  thirty 
 days  were  expired,  they  excommunicated 
 him  again,  with  the  addition  of  a  solemn 
 curse.  This  is  supposed  by  some  to  be  the 
 same  with  delivering  over  to  Satan.  The 
 offence  was  published  in  the  synagogue, 
 and  at  this  time  candles  were  lighted; 
 and,  when  the  pro(rlamation  was  ended, 
 they  were  put  out,  as  a  sign  that  the  person 
 excommunicated  was  deprived  of  the  light 
 of  heaven ;  his  goods  were  confiscated  j 
 and  if  he  died  without  repentance,  by  the 
 sentence  of  the  judge  a  stone  was  cast 
 upon  his  coffin  or  bier,  to  show  that  he 
 deserved  to  be  stoned.  He  was  not 
 mourned  for  with  any  solemn  lajoentatiou. 
 The  last  degree  of  excommunication  was 
 anathematizing,  which  was  inflicted  when 
 the  offender  had  often  refused  to  comply 
 with  the  sentence  of  the  court,  and  was 
 attended  with  corporal  punishment,  and 
 sometimes  with  banishment  and  death. 
 
 Anon. 
 EXISTENCE— Blanks  in. 
 
 Memory,  says  Mr.  A.  Smee,  in  his  work 
 on  Instinct  and  Season,  depends  upon 
 organisation,  and  the  state  of  the  organ 
 in  which  it  is  manifested.  A  person  under 
 the  influence  of  chloroform,  ethi^r,  or  spi- 
 rituous liquors,  remembers  nothing  which 
 has  occurred  ;  hence  the  two  former  fluids 
 are  frequently  used  during  the  performance 
 of  surgical  operations.  A  leg  may  now  be 
 removed,  a  new  nose  made,  or  any  tedious 
 operation  may  be  performed,  without  the 
 patient  being  in  the  least  degree  cognisant 
 of  the  process.  Surgeons  now  constantly 
 employ  these  remedies.  When  chloroform 
 is  used  in  sufficient  quantity,  it  induces  a 
 state  of  perfect  insensibility.  During  this 
 state  the  surgeon  performs  the  operation  ; 
 and  the  patient  neither  winces  nor  shows 
 the  slightest  sign  of  pain,  but  remains  with 
 a  placid  countenance,  as  though  he  were 
 thrown  into  a  gentle  sleep.  After  a  short- 
 time  he  suddenly  wakes  uji,  rubs  his  eyes, 
 and  stares  around  him.  The  interval  is  a 
 blank  in  his  existence.  When  all  is  over,  I 
 frequently  heard  the  patient  ask  when  the 
 surgeon  will  begin  ;  and  he  is  delighted 
 when  he  is  told  that  the  whole  has  been 
 completed  without  his  knowledge.  The 
 memory  of  the  event  is  lost  from  the  action 
 of  the  ether  or  chloroform  on  the  blood 
 preventing  it  from  acting  properly  on  the 
 brain.  Timbs. 
 
 EXISTENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Existence  is  the  state  of  being,  or  having 
 an  actual  essence.     Mr.  Locke  says  that 
 
316 
 
 EXISTENCE— EXPERIENCE. 
 
 we  arrive  at  the  knowledfje  of  our  own 
 existence  by  intuition  ;  of  the  existence  of 
 God  by  demonstration ;  of  other  things 
 by  sensation.  As  for  our  own  existence, 
 continues  he,  we  perceive  it  so  plainly, 
 that  it  neither  needs,  nor  is  capable  of, 
 any  proof.  I  think,  I  reason,  I  feel  plea- 
 sure and  pain;  can  any  of  these  be 
 more  evident  to  me  than  my  own  existence  ? 
 If  I  doubt  of  all  these  things,  that  very 
 doubt  makes  me  perceive  my  own  existence, 
 and  will  not  suffer  me  to  doubt.  If  I  know 
 I  doubt,  I  have  as  certain  a  pei'ception  of 
 the  thing  doubting,  as  of  that  thought 
 which  I  call  doubt ;  experience  then  con- 
 vinces us  that  we  have  an  intuitive  know- 
 ledge of  our  own  existence.  Maunder. 
 
 EXISTENCE— Measuring. 
 
 Existence  is  not  to  be  measured  by  mere 
 duration.  An  oak  lives  for  centuries,  gen- 
 eration after  generation  of  mortals  the 
 meanwhile  passing  away  ;  but  who  would 
 exchange  for  the  life  of  a  plant,  though 
 protracted  for  ages,  a  single  day  of  the 
 existence  of  a  living,  conscious,  thinking 
 man  ?  Dr.  Caird. 
 
 EXISTENCE  AND  LIFE. 
 
 Existence  is  the  property  of  all  things  in 
 the  universe ;  life,  which  is  the  inherent 
 power  of  motion,  is  the  particular  property 
 communicated  by  the  Divine  Being,  to 
 some  parts  only  of  His  creation.  Existence, 
 therefore,  is  the  general,  and  life  the  spe- 
 cific term  ;  whatever  has  life  has  existence 
 according  to  a  certain  mode:  but  many 
 things  have  existence  which  have  not  life. 
 When  we  wish  to  speak  of  things  in  their 
 most  abstract  relation,  we  say  they  exist ; 
 when  we  wish  to  characterise  the  form  of 
 existence  we  say  they  live. 
 
 Existence,  in  its  proper  sense,  is  the 
 attril)ute  which  we  commonly  ascribe  to 
 the  Divine  Being,  and  it  is  that  which  is 
 immediately  communicated  by  Himself; 
 life  is  that  mode  of  existence  wliich  He 
 has  made  to  be  communicable  by  other 
 objects  besides  Himself.  Existence  is  taken 
 only  in  its  strict  and  proper  sense,  inde- 
 pendent of  all  its  attributes  and  append- 
 ages; but  life  is  regarded  in  connection 
 with  the  means  by  which  it  is  supported, 
 as  animal  life,  or  vegetable  life.     G.  Crahb. 
 
 EXPEDIENCY— Definition  of. 
 
 A  temporary  means  of  eftecting  an  ob- 
 ject, without  regard  to  ulterior  conse- 
 quences. Maunder. 
 
 EXPEDIENTS  AND  PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Expedients  are  for  an  hour ;  but  prin- 
 ciples are  for  the  ages.  Just  because  the 
 rains  descend,  and  winds  blow,  we  cannot 
 aflbrd  to  build  on  shifting  sands. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 EXPERIENCE— Knowledge  by. 
 
 Practical  sciences  are  not  to  be  learned 
 but  in  the  way  of  action.  It  is  experience 
 that  must  give  knowledge  in  the  Christian 
 profession,  as  well  as  in  all  others.  And 
 the  knowledge  drawn  from  experience  is 
 quite  of  another  kind  from  that  which 
 fiows  from  speculation  or  discourse.  It  is 
 not  the  opinion,  but  the  path  of  the  just, 
 that  the  wisest  of  men  tells  us  shines  more 
 and  more  unto  a  perfect  day.  The  obe- 
 dient, and  the  men  of  practice,  are  those 
 sons  of  light  that  shall  outgrow  all  their 
 doubts  and  ignorances,  that  shall  ride  upon 
 these  clouds,  and  triumph  over  their  pre- 
 sent imperfections,  till  persuasion  pass  into 
 knowledge  and  knowledge  advance  into  as- 
 surance, and  all  come  at  length  to  be  com- 
 pleted in  the  beatific  vision  and  a  full 
 fruition  of  those  joys  which  God  has  in 
 reserve  for  them  whom  by  His  grace  He 
 shall  prepare  for  glory.  Dr.  South. 
 
 EXPERIENCE— in  Practice. 
 
 A  Christian  should  have  experience  in 
 practice  as  well  as  in  feeling ;  and  feeling 
 can  have  no  value  except  as  it  touches  into 
 life  electric  thrills  of  thought,  or  vital  facul- 
 ties of  power.  When  you  speak  of  an  ex- 
 perienced machinist,  you  never  mean  a 
 man  whose  life  burns  out  in  soft  regrets, 
 or  indolent  ecstacy,  in  thinking  about 
 plans  of  machinery,  that  have  no  existence 
 except  in  "  dreams  that  wave  before  the 
 half-shut  eye ;"  but  you  mean  one  who, 
 by  keen  thought  and  hard  larbour,  has  ac- 
 quired constructive  skill  and  practical  sa- 
 gacity; so,  when  you  speak  of  an  experi- 
 enced Christian,  you  mean  not  a  mere  man 
 of  feeling,  but  one  who  from  years  of  fresh 
 and  thoughtful  delight  in  the  service  of  the 
 Saviour,  understands  Him,  and  is  expei'i- 
 enced  not  only  in  feeling — in  the  excite- 
 ment of  the  animal  mechanism — and  in 
 sensations  produced  by  the  changes  of  the 
 weather,  but  in  ploughing  the  soil  and 
 sowing  the  seed.  C.  Stanford. 
 
 EXPERIENCE— in  Religion. 
 
 A  hundred  thousand  tongues  may  dis- 
 course to  you  about  the  sweetness  of  honey, 
 but  you  can  never  have  such  knowledge  of 
 it  as  by  taste.  So  a  world  full  of  books 
 may  tell  you  wonders  of  the  things  of  God 
 in  religion,  but  you  can  never  understand 
 them  exactly  but  by  the  taste  of  expe- 
 rience. N.  Caussin. 
 
 EXPERIENCE— Testimony  of. 
 
 From  curiosity,  a  lawyer  entered  a  meet- 
 ing for  the  relation  of  Christian  experience 
 and  took  notes.  But  so  impressed  was  he 
 that  at  the  close  he  arose  and  said  :  "  My 
 friends,  I  hold  in  my  hands  the  testimony 
 of  no  less  than  sixty  persons,  who  have 
 spoken  here  this  morning,  who  all  testify 
 
EXPERIENCE— EXTREMES. 
 
 317 
 
 with  one  consent  that  there  is  a  Divine 
 reality  in  religion,  they  having  experienced 
 its  power  in  their  own  hearts.  Many  of 
 these  persons  I  know.  Their  word  would 
 be  received  in  any  court  of  justice.  Lie 
 they  would  not,  I  know;  and  mistaken 
 they  cannot  all  be.  I  have  hitherto  been 
 sceptical  in  relation  to  these  matters.  I 
 now  tell  you  that  I  am  fully  convinced  of 
 the  truth,  and  that  I  intend  to  lead  a  new 
 life.    Will  you  pray  for  me  ?"    Dr.  Haven. 
 
 EXPERIENCE— not  Uniform. 
 
 You  are  too  apt  to  feel  that  your  reli- 
 gious experience  must  be  the  same  as 
 others  have  ;  but  where  will  you  find  analo- 
 gies for  this  ?  Certainly  not  in  nature. 
 God's  works  do  not  come  from  His  hand 
 like  coins  from  the  mint.  It  seems  as  if  it 
 were  a  necessity  that  each  one  should  be 
 in  some  sort  distinct  from  every  other.  No 
 two  leaves  on  the  same  tree  are  precisely 
 alike ;  no  two  buds  on  one  bush  have  the 
 same  unfolding,  nor  do  they  seek  to  have. 
 
 What  if  God  should  command  the  flowers 
 to  appear  before  Him,  and  the  sunflower 
 should  come  bending  low  with  shame  be- 
 cause it  was  not  a  violet,  and  the  violet 
 should  come  striving  to  lift  itself  up  to  be 
 like  a  sunflower,  and  the  lily  should  seek 
 to  gain  the  bloom  of  the  rose,  and  the 
 rose  the  whiteness  of  the  lily  ;  and  so,  each 
 one  disdaining  itself,  should  seek  to  grow 
 into  the  likeness  of  the  other  ?  God  would 
 say,  "Stop,  foolish  flowers!  I  "gave  you 
 your  own  forms,  and  hues,  and  odours,  and 
 I  wish  you  to  bring  what  you  have  received. 
 O  sunflower,  come  as  a  sunflower ;  and  you 
 sweet  violet,  come  as  a  violet ;  and  let  the 
 rose  bring  the  rose's  bloom,  and  the  lily 
 the  lily's  whiteness."  Perceiving  their 
 folly,  and  ceasing  to  long  for  what  they 
 had  not,  violet  and  rose,  lily  and  geranium, 
 mignionette  and  anemone,  and  all  the  floral 
 train,  would  come,  each  in  its  own  love- 
 liness, to  send  up  its  fragrance  as  incense, 
 and  all  wreathe  themselves  in  a  garland  of 
 beauty  about  the  throne  of  God. 
 
 Now,  God  speaks  to  you  as  to  the  flowers, 
 and  says,  "  Come  with  the  form  and  nature 
 that  I  gave  you.  If  you  are  made  a  violet, 
 come  as  a  violet.  If  you  are  a  rose,  come 
 as  a  rose.  If  you  are  a  shrub,  do  not  desire 
 to  be  a  tree.  Let  everything  abide  in  the 
 nature  which  I  gave  it,  and  grow  to  the 
 fiill  excellence  that  is  contained  in  that 
 nature."  S.  W.  Beecher, 
 
 EXPERIENCE— Wages  of. 
 
 Experience  is  an  excellent  schoolmaster, 
 but  he  does  charge  such  di-eadful  wages. 
 
 Carlyle. 
 
 EXPERIENCE  AND  EXPERIMENT. 
 
 Experience  is  that  which  has  been  tried; 
 experiment  is  the  thing  to  be  tried ;  expe- 
 
 rience is  certain,  as  it  is  a  deduction  from 
 the  past  for  the  service  of  the  present ; 
 the  experiment  is  uncertain,  and  serves  a 
 future  purpose ;  experience  is  an  unerring 
 guide,  which  no  man  can  desert  without 
 falling  into  error ;  experiments  may  fail, 
 or  be  superseded  by  others  more  perfect. 
 
 G.  Crabh. 
 
 EXPERIENCES— Differ. 
 
 The  experiences  of  no  two  persons  are 
 precisely  alike  in  every  feature,  or  in  any 
 one  feature.  No  two  have  faces  alike.  All 
 have  faces,  however,  if  they  are  human. 
 No  two  have  any  one  feature  precisely  the 
 same,  yet  all  have  the  same  features.  He 
 who  should  have  two  mouths,  or  three  eyes, 
 or  two  noses,  would  be  a  monster,  not  a 
 man.  And  he  who  should  have  no  mouth, 
 or  nose,  or  eyes  at  all,  would  be  a  deformed 
 man  at  best.  So,  in  religious  experience, 
 all  have  the  same  general  experience,  all 
 have  the  same  general  features,  though  no 
 two  are  exactly  alike.       W.  E.  Boardman. 
 
 EXPERIMENTS. 
 
 A  crow,  ready  to  die  with  thirst,  flew 
 with  joy  to  a  pitcher,  which  he  beheld  at 
 some  distance.  When  he  came,  he  found 
 water  in  it  indeed,  but  so  near  the  bottom, 
 that  with  all  his  stooping  and  straining,  he 
 was  not  able  to  reach  it :  then  he  endea- 
 voured to  overturn  the  pitcher,  so  that  at 
 least  he  might  be  able  to  get  a  little  of 
 it ;  but  his  strength  was  not  sufficient  for 
 this;  at  last,  seeing  some  pebbles  lie  near 
 the  place,  he  cast  them  one  by  one  into 
 the  pitcher ;  and  thus  by  degrees  raised 
 the  water  up  to  the  very  brim,  and  thus 
 satisfied  his  thirst. 
 
 The  Application. — Many  things  which 
 cannot  be  eftected  by  strength,  or  by  the 
 common  way  of  enterpi-ising,  may  yet  be 
 brought  about  by  some  new  and  untried 
 
 EXTRAVAGANCE— Effects  of. 
 
 We  sacrifice  to  dress  till  household  joys 
 
 And   comforts    cease.      Dress    drains   our 
 
 cellar  dry. 
 And  keeps  our  larder  clean ;  puts  out  our 
 
 fires. 
 And  introduces  hunger,  frost,  and  woe. 
 Where  peace  and  hospitality  might  reign. 
 Cowper. 
 
 EXTREMES— Brevity  of. 
 
 Those  edges  soonest  turn   that   are  most 
 
 keen ; 
 A  sober  moderation  stands  secure  j 
 No  violent  extremes  endure.  Aleyn, 
 
 EXTREMES— Church. 
 
 The  human  mind  is  prone  to  extremes; 
 especially  so  in  popular  action.  Indeed, 
 the  most  of  reformers  are  not  only  men 
 
318 
 
 EXTEEMES— EYEING  GOD. 
 
 of  one  idea,  but  they  generally  speak  and 
 act  as  if  they  were  quite  certain  that  the 
 extreme  opposite  io  wrong  must  be  right. 
 Their  tendency,  therefore,  is  to  advocate  and 
 aim  at  that  extreme.  Different  ages  have 
 done,  and  dittereut  parties  iu  the  Church 
 do  this.  One  after  another  communities 
 have  arisen  exaggerating  one  or  two  points, 
 and  almost  losing  sight  of  everything  else. 
 They  have  tlius  cut,  so  to  speak,  the  great 
 system  of  Truth  into  pieces ;  each  has  seized 
 on  a  separate  portion,  and,  exulting  in  the 
 possession  of  it,  keeps  holding  it  up  as  if  it 
 were  the  whole.  A  Uvinff  body  does  not 
 consist  of  so  many  separate  limbs  and  mem- 
 bers. There  must  be  organic  completeness, 
 if  there  is  to  be  vital  action.  There  may 
 be  life,  indeed,  and  strength  too,  where  a 
 limb  has  been  lost,  or  an  arm  wounded.  So 
 churches,  systems,  and  individual  Christian 
 men  must,  we  suppose,  be  charitably  re- 
 garded as  holding  (and  being)  what  is  alive, 
 though  maimed,  rather  than  as  each  trea- 
 suring (or  constituting)  a  withered  or  dead 
 hand  or  foot.  T.  Binnetj. 
 
 EXTREMES— Effects  of. 
 
 Extreme  old  age  is  childhood;  extreme 
 wisdom  is  ignorance,  for  so  it  may  be  called, 
 since  the  man  whom  the  oracle  pronounced 
 the  wisest  of  men  professed  that  he  knew 
 nothing ;  yea,  push  a  coward  to  the  ex- 
 treme and  he  will  show  courage ;  oppress 
 a  man  to  the  last,  and  he  will  rise  above 
 oppression.  J.  Beuumord. 
 
 They  are  sick  that  surfeit  with  too  much. 
 As  they  that  starve  with  nothing ;  there- 
 fore it 
 Is  no  mean  happiness  to  be  seated 
 In  the  mean ;  superfluity  comes  sooner 
 By    white    hairs,    but    competency    lives 
 longer.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Extremes,  though  contrary,  have  the  like 
 
 effects ; 
 Extreme  heat  mortifies,  like  extreme  cold; 
 Extreme  love  breeds  satiety,  as  well 
 As  extreme  hatred ;  and  too  violent  rigour 
 Tempts   chastity   as    much   as    too   much 
 
 license.  Chapman. 
 
 Who  gripes  too  hard  the  dry  and  slippery 
 
 sand, 
 Holds  none  at  all,  or  little,  iu  his  hand. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 EXTREMES— Temptations  to. 
 
 If  Satan  cannot  bring  men  to  one  ex- 
 treme, he  will  essay  to  bring  them  to  ano- 
 ther. If  he  cannot  bring  a  man  to  covetous- 
 ness  and  keep  his  heart  to  the  love  of 
 money,  then  let  him  beware  of  riot  and 
 prodigality.  Is  a  \n-n\  given  to  pleasure 
 and  delight,  and  at  length  is  deprived  of 
 them  ?    then  let   him   beware   the  devil 
 
 swallow  him  not  up  with  overmuch  grief, 
 as  he  sought  to  do  with  the  incestuous 
 person  of  Corinth.  Doth  a  man  come  to 
 love  religion  that  formerly  was  given  to 
 looseness  of  life  ?  then  if  it  be  possible  the 
 devil  will  carry  him  to  schism  and  heresy. 
 The  devil  cannot  abide  that  a  man  should 
 keep  the  mean  according  to  God's  Word 
 (Is.  XXX,  21).  He  would  have  our  first 
 parents  to  be  gods,  or  nobody  (Gen.  iii,  5). 
 And  so  still  he  laboureth  to  bring  a  man 
 to  some  extreme.  W.  Perkins. 
 
 EYE— Danger  of  the. 
 
 Satan  turned  Eve's  eye  to  the  apple; 
 Achan's  eye  to  the  wedge  of  gold  ;  Ahab's 
 eye  to  Naboth's  vineyard ;  and  then  what 
 work  did  he  make  with  them  !  AUeine. 
 
 EYE— Expression  of  the. 
 
 WTiat  strange  emotions,  what  thoughts, 
 do  we  discover  in  this  little  mirror  of  the 
 soul !  There  is  the  "  glance,  the  stare, 
 the  sneer,  the  invitation,  the  defiance,  the 
 denial,  the  look  of  love,  the  flash  of  rage, 
 the  sparkling  of  hope,  the  languishment  of 
 softness,  the  squint  of  suspicion,  the  fire  of 
 jealousy,  and  the  lustre  of  pleasure  :"  all 
 but  a  mere  specimen  of  the  endlessly  varied 
 expressions  of  what  the  human  eye  is 
 capable.  There  is  probably  not  a  thought, 
 not  an  emotion  of  the  soul,  which  it  may 
 not  mirror  forth.  Bead. 
 
 EYE— Instrument  of  the  Soul. 
 
 It  is  the  eye  through  which  the  soul 
 perceives  the  glories  of  the  summer  sky, 
 and  searches  for  its  midnight  stars;  and 
 contemplates  splendour  of  colour,  and 
 beauty  of  form ;  and  gazes  on  the  out- 
 spread landscape  of  fertile  field,  hoary 
 mountain,  stream,  and  forest,  ocean  and 
 island,  all  incensed  with  the  sweet  perfumes 
 that  scent  the  breezy  air ;  and  by  which 
 too  it  beholds  that  world  of  deeper  interest 
 still — the  human  countenance  of  beloved 
 parent,  child,  or  friend,  bright  with  all  the 
 sunshine  of  winning  emotion.  It  is  the 
 magic  instrument  which  conveys  to  the 
 soul  all  the  varied  harmonies  of  sound, 
 from  the  choirs  of  spring,  and  the  other 
 innumerable  minstrelsies  of  nature  ;  as  well 
 as  from  the  higher  arts  of  man,  that  soothe, 
 elevate,  and  solemnise.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 EYEING  GOD— Raptui-es  of. 
 
 To  eye  God  in  all  our  comforts,  and  ob- 
 serve the  smiling  aspects  of  His  face  when 
 He  dispenses  them  to  us  ;  to  eye  Him  in  all 
 our  afflictions,  and  consider  the  paternal 
 wisdom  that  instructs  us  in  them  ;  how- 
 would  this  increase  our  mercies  and  miti- 
 gate our  troubles. 
 
 To  eye  Him  in  all  His  creatures,  and 
 observe  the  various  prints  of  the  Creator's 
 glory  stamped  upon  them  ;  with  how  lively 
 
EYES— rACTION. 
 
 319 
 
 a  lustre  would  it  clothe  the  world,  and 
 make  everything  look  with  a  pleasant  face  ! 
 What  a  heaven  were  it  to  look  upon  God  as 
 filling  all  in  all ;  and  how  sweetly  would  it 
 erewhile  raise  our  souls  into  some  such 
 sweet  seraphic  strains,  "Holy,  holy;  the 
 whole  earth  is  full  of  His  glory." 
 
 To  eye  Him  iu  His  providences,  and 
 consider  how  all  events  are  with  infinite 
 wisdom  disposed  into  an  apt  subserviency 
 to  His  holy  will  and  ends;  what  difliiculties 
 would  hence  be  solved,  what  seeming  in- 
 consistencies reconciled!  And  how  much 
 would  it  contribute  to  the  ease  and  quiet  of 
 our  minds  ! 
 
 To  eye  Him  in  His  Christ,  the  express 
 image  of  His  person,  the  brightness  of  His 
 glory;  and  in  the  Christian  economy,  the 
 Gospel  revelation  and  ordinances,  through 
 which  He  manifests  Himself. 
 
 To  behold  Him  in  the  posture  in  which 
 He  saves  souls,  "  clad  with  the  garments  of 
 salvation,"  girt  with  power  and  apparelled 
 with  love,  "travelling  in  the  greatness  of 
 His  strength,  mighty  to  save." 
 
 To  view  Him  addressing  Himself  to 
 allure  and  win  to  Him  the  hearts  of  sin- 
 ners, when  he  discovers  Himself  in  Christ, 
 upon  that  reconciling  design,  makes  "grace 
 that  brings  salvation  appear,"  &c. 
 
 To  behold  Him  entering  into  human 
 flesh,  pitching  His  tabernacle  among  men, 
 hanging  out  His  ensigns  of  peace,  laying 
 His  trains,  spreading  His  net,  "the  cords 
 of  a  man,  the  bands  of  love." 
 
 To  see  Him  in  His  Christ  ascending  the 
 cross,  lifted  up  to  draw  all  men  to  Him, 
 and  consider  that  mighty  love  of  justice 
 aud  of  souls,  both  so  eminently  conspicuous 
 iu  that  stupendous  sacrifice ;  here  to  fix 
 our  eyes  looking  to  Jesns,  and  beholding 
 Him  whom  we  have  pierced. 
 
 To  see  His  power  and  glory,  as  they 
 were  wont  to  be  seen  in  His  sanctuaries ; 
 to  observe  Him  in  the  solemnities  of  His 
 worsliip,  and  the  graceful  postures  wherein 
 He  holds  communion  with  His  saints  when 
 He  seats  Himself  amidst  them  on  the 
 throne  of  grace,  receives  their  addresses, 
 dispenses  the  tokens  and  pledges  of  His 
 love ;  into  what  transports  might  these 
 visions  put  us  every  day  !  John  JSoive. 
 
 EYES— Lust  of  the. 
 
 Ahab  cast  a  covetous  eye  at  Naboth's 
 vineyard,  David  a  lustful  eye  at  Bathsheba. 
 The  eye  is  the  pulse  of  the  soul ;  as  phy- 
 sicians judge  of  the  heart  by  the  pulse,  so 
 we  by  the  eye ;  a  rolling  eye,  a  roving 
 heart.  The  good  eye  keeps  minute  time, 
 and  strikes  when  it  should ;  the  lustful, 
 crotchet-time,  and  so  puts  all  out  of  tune. 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 EYES— Eeligious  Use  of  the. 
 
 The  eye  as  it  is  used  will  either  be  p.  help 
 
 or  a  snare  ;  either  it  will  let  in  the  sparks  of 
 temptation,  or  enkindle  the  fire  of  true  de- 
 votion. These  are  the  windows  which  God 
 hath  placed  in  the  top  of  the  building,  that 
 man  from  thence  may  conteiuplate  God's 
 works  and  take  a  prospect  of  Heaven,  the 
 place  of  our  eternal  residence.    T.  Mantoii. 
 
 P. 
 FABLE  AND  TALE. 
 
 The  fable  is  allegorical ;  its  actions  are 
 natural,  but  its  agents  are  imaginary ;  the 
 tale  is  fictitious,  but  uot  imaginary  ;  both 
 the  agents  and  actions  are  drawn  from  the 
 passing  seen  -a  of  life.  Gods  and  goddesses, 
 animals  anu  men,  trees,  vegetables,  and 
 inanimate  objects  in  general,  may  be  made 
 the  agents  of  a  fahle  ;  but  of  a  tale,  pro- 
 perly speaking,  only  men  or  supernatural 
 spirits  can  be  the  agents  ;  of  the  former 
 description  are  the  celebrated  fables  of 
 J5sop ;  and  of  the  latter  the  tales  of 
 jVIarmontel,  the  tales  of  the  Genii,  the 
 Chinese  tales,  &c. ;  fables  are  written  for 
 instruction;  tales  principally  for  amuse- 
 ment ;  fables  consist  mostly  of  only  one 
 incident  or  action,  from  which  a  moral 
 may  be  drawn;  tales  always  of  many 
 which  excite  an  interest  for  an  individual. 
 
 G.  Crabb. 
 FACE,  COUNTElTAi^fCE,  VISAGE. 
 
 The  face  consists  of  a  certain  set  of 
 features ;  the  countenance  consists  of  the 
 general  aggregate  of  looks  produced  by 
 these  features  ;  the  visage  consists  of  such 
 looks  in  particular  cases :  the  face  is  the 
 work  of  nature;  the  countenance  and 
 visage  are  the  work  of  mind  ;  the  face  re- 
 mains the  same,  but  the  countenance  and 
 visage  are  changeable.  The  face  belongs 
 to  brutes  as  well  as  men;  the  countenance 
 is  the  peculiar  property  of  man  ;  the  visage 
 is  peculiarly  applicable  to  superior  beings  : 
 the  term  is  emjjloyed  only  in  the  grave  or 
 lofty  style.  Ibid. 
 
 FACTION  AND  PARTY. 
 
 The  term  party  has  of  itself  nothing 
 odious,  that  of  faction  is  always  so ;  any 
 man,  without  distinction  of  rank,  may  have 
 a  farty,  either  at  court  or  in  the  army,  in 
 the  city  or  in  literature,  without  being 
 himself  immediately  implicated  in  raising 
 it ;  but  factions  are  always  the  result  of 
 active  efforts  ;  one  may  have  a  party  for 
 one's  merit  from  the  number  and  ardour  of 
 one's  Iriends ;  but  a  faction  is  for  their 
 own  purposes ;  Rome  was  torn  by  the  in- 
 testine factions  of  Cassar  and  Pompey; 
 France,  during  the  revolution,  was  succes- 
 sively governed  by  some  ruling  faction, 
 which  raised  itself  upon  the  ruins  of  that 
 which  it  had  destroyed.  Faction  is  the 
 demon  of  discord  armed  with  the  power  to 
 
820 
 
 FACULTY— FAITH. 
 
 do  endless  mischief,  and  intent  alone  on 
 destroying  whatever  opposes  its  progress; 
 woe  to  that  state  in  which  it  has  found  an 
 entrance  :  party  spirit  may  show  itself  in 
 noisy  debate,  but  while  it  keeps  within  the 
 legitimate  bounds  of  opposition,  it  is  an 
 evil  that  must  be  endured.  G.  Crabb. 
 
 FACULTY— Meaning  of. 
 
 By  faculty  is  meant  any  particular  part 
 of  our  constitution,  by  which  we  become 
 affected  by  the  various  qualities  and  rela- 
 tions of  beings  around.  Thus,  by  taste, 
 we  are  conscious  of  the  existence  of  beauty 
 and  deformity ;  by  perception,  we  acquire 
 a  knowledge  of  the  existence  and  qualities 
 of  the.  material  world.  And  in  general,  if 
 •we  discern  any  quality  in  the  universe,  or 
 produce  or  suffer  any  change,  it  seems 
 almost  a  truism  to  say  that  we  have  a 
 faculty  or  power  for  so  doing.  A  man 
 ■who  sees  must  have  eyes  or  the  faculty  of 
 seeing ;  and  if  he  have  not  eyes,  this  is 
 considered  a  sufficient  reason  why  he  should 
 not  see.  And  thus  it  may  be  admitted 
 that  there  may  be  a  thousand  qualities  in 
 nature  of  which  we  have  no  knowledge, 
 for  the  simple  reason  that  we  have  not 
 been  created  with  the  faculties  for  dis- 
 covering them.  There  is  a  world  without 
 us,  and  a  world  within  us,  which  exactly 
 correspond  to  each  other.  Unless  both 
 exist  we  can  never  be  conscious  of  the 
 existence  of  either.  Wayland. 
 
 FAITH-an  Act. 
 
 Divine  feith,  considered  as  an  act  or 
 habit,  is  the  assent  of  the  mind  to  a  thing 
 as  true,  upon  the  authority  of  God  reveal- 
 ing it.  Holy  men  so  assent  to  everything 
 which  they  are  convinced  tlvit  He  hath 
 said.  What  the  Apostle  professes  of  him- 
 self was  not  peculiar  to  him  alone  :  "  I 
 worship  the  God  of  my  fathers,  believing 
 all  things  which  are  written  in  the  Law 
 and  the  Prophets  "  (Acts  xxiv,  14). 
 
 N.  Taylor. 
 
 FAITH— Anticipations  of. 
 
 Just  as  the  wayworn  and  weary  tra- 
 veller, fainting  beneath  a  burning  sun, 
 and  scarce  able  to  drag  his  limbs  along, 
 gathers  up  new  vigour  when  his  thoughts 
 go  forward  to  the  journey's  end,  and  his 
 home,  and  his  wife,  and  his  little  ones, 
 and  all  that  is  dear  to  his  ear  and  his  eye ; 
 even  so  the  pilgrim  to  heaven,  faint  with 
 fatigue,  harassed  with  a  thousand  cares, 
 and  half  heart-broken  with  griefs  with 
 which  no  stranger  can  intermeddle ;  even 
 so  he  is  inspired  with  fresh  courage  and 
 comfort,  when  faith  sets  before  him  the 
 King  in  His  beauty,  and  the  land  afar  off, 
 the  land  of  which  it  is  so  beautifully  said, 
 "  And  there  shall  be  no  more  curse." 
 "  And  there  shall  be  no  night  there,  and 
 
 they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the 
 sun,  for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them  liglit, 
 and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 
 
 .2.  B.  Nichol. 
 
 FAITH— Author  of. 
 
 The  author  of  faith  is  the  Holy  Spirit, 
 whom  the  Son  sends  from  the  Father,  as  His 
 advocate  and  substitute,  who  may  manage 
 His  cause  in  the  world  and  against  it.  The 
 instrument  is  the  Gospel,  or  the  word  of 
 faith,  containing  the  meaning  concerning 
 God  and  Christ  which  the  Spirit  proposes 
 to  the  understanding,  and  of  which  He 
 there  works  a  persuasion.  Arminius. 
 
 FAITH— Unites  to  Christ. 
 
 As  the  graft  is  kept  in  union  with  the 
 stock  by  means  of  the  clay  which  has  been 
 applied  by  the  gardener,  so  is  the  believer 
 united  to  Christ  by  faith,  which  is  the  gift 
 of  God.  The  clay-cement  keeps  the  parts 
 together,  but  has  no  virtue  in  itself;  so 
 faith  is  the  means  of  union  to  Christ — it 
 shows  that  the  husbandman  has  been  there. 
 When  the  clay  is  removed  in  an  ordinary 
 tree,  the  graft  is  found  united  to  the  stock ; 
 so  when  faith  is  swallowed  up  in  sight, 
 then  the  perfect  union  of  Ciirist  and  His 
 people  is  seen.  J.  K.  Balfour. 
 
 FAITH— Clear. 
 
 As  the  astronomer  and  naturalist  are 
 particularly  careful  to  have  the  glasses  of 
 their  instruments  free  from  all  dust  in 
 viewing  their  objects,  because  the  smallest 
 speck  of  dust  might  affect  the  object  and 
 their  judgment,  so  should  Christians  be 
 careful  to  have  their  faith  wiped  clean  of 
 all  the  dust  of  doubts  and  unbelief,  lest 
 they  should  behold  the  truths  of  God  im- 
 perfectly and  come  to  a  perverted  judg- 
 ment. John  Bale. 
 
 Wlien  the  water  of  a  gently  flowing 
 river  is  unruffled  and  clear,  it  reflects  most 
 beautifully  the  floating  clouds  and  the 
 overhanging  objects,  but  when  agitated  it 
 becomes  in  a  great  measure  opaque  and 
 loses  its  power  of  reflection.  So  it  is  with 
 the  faith  of  Christians;  when  clear  and 
 lively,  how  strong  and  beautiful  are  its 
 reflections  of  the  things  of  God,  which  as 
 objects  hang  over  it ;  but  when  it  is  dead- 
 ened by  the  influence  of  the  world,  or 
 corrupted  with  sin  of  any  degree,  its  clear- 
 ness disappears,  and  the  spiritual  things  of 
 God  are  lost  from  its  bosom.  Ibid. 
 
 FAITH — Controling  the  Conscience. 
 
 A  true  conscience  depends  upon  a  true 
 faith.  No  proposition  in  morals  is  more 
 plain.  It  is  not  our  design  to  inquire  what 
 leads,  or  has  led,  men  to  a  wrong  faith. 
 Whatever  may  be  the  cause  of  any  particu- 
 lar belief,  it  is  incontrovertible  that,  if  a 
 
FAITH. 
 
 321 
 
 mtin  believes  a  thing  to  be  right,  conscience 
 cimnot  condemn  an  act  performed  in  view 
 of  that  belief.  Conscience  is  so  modified 
 and  guided  by  a  man's  faith,  that  it  will 
 sanction  and  command  an  act  in  one  man 
 which  it  will  forbid  and  condemn  in 
 another.  A  Roman  Catholic  believes  that 
 he  ought  to  pray  to  the  Virgin  Mary  to  in- 
 tercede for  him  with  God;  and  if  a  good 
 Roman  Catholic  were  to  neglect  his  wor- 
 ship to  the  saints,  his  conscience  would 
 smite  him,  until,  in  some  instances,  he 
 confessed  his  sin  with  tears.  Now,  if  a 
 good  Protestant  were  to  pray  to  saints,  or 
 to  any  other  being  but  God,  his  conscience 
 would  smite  him  for  doing  that  which  the 
 conscience  of  the  Roman  Catholic  smote 
 him  for  not  doing.  So  the  heathen  mother 
 will  conscientiously  throw  her  infant  into 
 the  Ganges,  or  under  the  wheels  of  Jugger- 
 naut, while  the  conscience  of  a  Christian 
 mother  would  convict  her  of  murder  were 
 she  to  do  the  same  act.  Conscience  seldom 
 convicts  those  that  Christians  call  impeni- 
 tent persons  for  neglecting  to  pray,  while 
 the  moment  a  man  becomes  a  true  believer, 
 he  will  be  convicted  of  guilt  if  he  neglects 
 the  duty.  So  certainly  and  so  clearly  is  it 
 true,  that  a  man's  conscience  is  governed 
 by  his  faith.  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 PAITH— Creation  of. 
 
 "  God,  who  commanded  light  to  shine 
 out  of  darkness,  hath  shined  in  our  hearts, 
 to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
 glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 
 What  was  before  the  light  was  made  ? 
 You  shall  find  nothing  but  a  rude,  void 
 chaos,  a  darkness  and  emptiness  of  all 
 form;  a  Tohu  and  Bohu,  which  was  next 
 door  to  nothing,  which  the  Spirit  imme- 
 diate sustained  and  hatched ;  it  had 
 vanished  to  nothing  else.  And  God  said 
 there,  "  Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was 
 light."  Any  one  that  reads  this  will  say 
 that  God  here  manifested  the  exceeding 
 greatness  of  His  power.  Just  so  doth  God 
 deal  in  creating  faith  in  our  hearts,  which 
 are  nothing  but  darkness  in  themselves. 
 He  brings  them  first  to  a  Tohu  and  Bohu, 
 an  apprehension  of  their  own  emptiness  of 
 grace,  as  that  was  of  form ;  to  be  nothing 
 but  darkness  in  thine  own  apprehension, 
 so  as  the  soul  is  sinking,  falling,  going  into 
 nothing;  and  then  didst  thou  feel  the 
 Spirit  of  God  moving  upon  thy  heart, 
 working  in  thee,  and  commanding  light  to 
 shine  out  of  thy  heart;  even  the  knowledge 
 of  God's  free  grace  making  Christ  to  be 
 righteousness,  sanctification,  and  all  things 
 to  thee.  T.  Goodwin. 
 
 FAITH— Dead. 
 
 The  Word  of  God  tells  you  distinctly 
 what  sort  of  faith  dead  faith  is.  Jas.  ii, 
 17,  20,  26,  says,  "Faith,    if  it   hath  not 
 
 works,  is  dead,  hehig  alone."  "Wilt  thou 
 know,  O  vain  taan,  thsit faith  ivithout  loorks 
 is  dead  ?"  "  As  the  body  without  the 
 spirit  is  dead,  so  faith  without  works  is  dead 
 also."  We  all  know  that  that  which  is 
 dead  is  inactive,  inoperative,  unproductive, 
 fruitless.  If,  then,  your  faith  is  of  this 
 character,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is 
 dead,  and,  as  this  apostle  teaches,  can 
 neither  justify  nor  save  you. 
 
 T.  S.  Milner. 
 
 FAITH— Definition  of. 
 
 Faith,  generally,  is  the  assent  given  to 
 truth  ;  and  Divine  faith  is  that  which  is 
 given  to  truth  divinely  revealed.  The 
 foundation  on  which  Divine  faith  rests  is 
 two-fold — the  one  external  and  out  of  or 
 beyond  the  mind ;  the  other  internal,  and 
 in  the  mind.  1.  The  external  foundation  ^ 
 of  faith  is  the  very  veracity  of  God  who 
 makes  the  declaration,  and  who  can  declare 
 nothing  that  is  false.  2.  The  internal 
 foundation  of  faith  is  two-fold ;  both  the 
 general  idea  by  which  we  know  that  God 
 is  true — and  the  knowledge  by  which  we 
 know  that  it  is  th^  word  of  God. 
 
 Arminius. 
 
 Faith  is  to  the  things  of  the  spiritual 
 world  in  the  light  of  revelation,  what  the 
 eye  is  to  the  natural  world  in  the  light 
 of  the  sun,  it  sees  the  things  which  are 
 brought  before  it,  and  believes  them  to  be 
 as  much  realities  as  the  things  which  the 
 bodily  eye  sees  in  the  natural  world.  Hence 
 the  Apostle  says  "  Faith  is  the  evidence  of 
 things  not  seen."  John  Bate. 
 
 Evangelical  faith  is  an  assent  of  the 
 mind,  produced  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  through 
 the  Gospel,  in  sinners,  who,  through  lire 
 law,  know  and  acknowledge  their  snis, 
 and  are  penitent  on  account  of  them,  by 
 which  they  are  not  only  fully  persuaded 
 within  thenirelves  that  Jesus  Christ  has 
 been  constituted  by  God  the  Author  of 
 salvation  to  those  who  obey  Him,  and  that 
 He  is  their  own  Saviour  if  they  have  be- 
 lieved in  Him,  and  by  which  they  also  be- 
 lieve in  Him  as  such,  and  through  Him  on 
 God  as  the  benevolent  Father  in  Him,  to 
 the  salvation  of  believers  and  to  the  glory 
 of  Christ  and  God,  Arminius. 
 
 FAITH— Elevation  of. 
 
 A  man  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty  moun- 
 tain can  trace  the  panoramic  outline  and 
 filling  up  of  the  surrounding  country  with 
 much  more  exactness  and  pleasure  than  he 
 who  shall  remain  in  the  valley,  or  ascend 
 only  half  way  up  the  mountain  side ;  so, 
 he  who  lives  on  the  high  elevation  of  holy 
 faith,  sees  with  a  clearer  and  farther  vision 
 the  sublime  things  of  God,  than  the  man 
 21 
 
322 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 who  walks  iu  the  vale  of  a  sinful  life,  or 
 goes  only  in  part  into  the  enjoyment  of 
 the  mysteries  of  Godliness.         John  Bate. 
 
 PAITH— Emhlems  of. 
 
 A  shield  (Eph.  vi,  16) ;  a  Ireastplate 
 (1  Thes.  V,  8).  The  eye  of  the  soul ;  the 
 hand  of  the  soul,  to  liold  and  to  work  for 
 Christ ;  the/eei  of  the  soul  to  stand  or  run 
 for  Christ ;  the  master-ivheel  that  sets  all 
 the  rest  iu  motion  (2  Peter  i,  5—7).  The 
 tendril  of  the  iry,  that  clasps  the  giant 
 oak.  The  telescope  that  reveals  the  dis- 
 tant heavens.  Hi/ssop.—lhi^  is  a  plant 
 which  roots  itself  in  the  rock  or  wall.  It 
 is  a  low  and  apparently  mean  production, 
 hut  it  has  medicinal  qualities  (1  Kings,  iv, 
 33  ;  Ps.  li,  7).  It  is  a  type  of  faith.  Faith 
 is  a  plant  of  the  Spirit's  production,  in  the 
 garden  of  grace.  It  roots  itself  in  Christ, 
 the  living  Kock,  and  grows  by  nurture  re- 
 ceived from  Him.  It  is  low  and  con- 
 temptible in  the  opinion  of  men  ;  nothing 
 is  more  vilified  or  contemned  than  faith. 
 It  is  a  humble  plant,  but  it  is  the  instru- 
 mental grace  by  which  Christ  is  appre- 
 hended and  privileges  embraced. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 FAITH— EjKfcireness  of. 
 
 Entireness,  illimitableness,  is  indispensa- 
 ble to  faith.  What  we  believe  we  must 
 believe  wholly  and  without  reserve  ;  where- 
 fore the  only  perfect  and  satisfying  object 
 of  faith  is  God.  A  faith  that  sets  bounds 
 to  itself,  that  will  believe  so  much  and  no 
 more,  that  will  trust  thus  far  and  no  further, 
 is  none.  It  is  only  doubt  taking  a  nap  in 
 an  elbow  chair.  The  husband  whose  scep- 
 ticism is  prurient  enough  to  contem))late 
 the  possibility  of  his  wife's  proving  false, 
 richly  deserves  that  she  should  do  so. 
 
 Rare. 
 FAITH— Excellency  of. 
 
 Take  a  piece  of  wax  and  a  piece  of  gold 
 of  the  same  magnitude;  the  wax  is  not 
 valuable  with  the  gold ;  but  as  this  wax 
 is  placed  at  the  end  of  some  will,  by  virtue 
 of  which  some  great  estate  is  confirmed  and 
 conveyed,  so  it  may  be  worth  many  hun- 
 di-ed  "pounds.  So,  faith  considered  purely 
 in  itself,  doth  challenge  nothing  more  than 
 other  graces,  nay,  in  some  sense  it  is  in- 
 ferior, it  being  an  empty  handj  but  as 
 this  hand  receives  the  precious  alms  of 
 Christ's  merits,  and  is  an  instrument  or 
 channel  through  which  the  blessed  streams 
 of  life  flow  to  us  from  Him,  so  it  doth 
 challenge  a  superiority  over,  and  is  more 
 excellent  that  all  other  graces  whatsoever. 
 Spencer. 
 FAITH— Exercise  of. 
 
 As  a  weak  limb  grows  stronger  by  ex- 
 ercise, so  will  your  faith  be  strengthened 
 by  the  very  effort  you  make  in  stretching 
 
 it  out  towards  things  unseen.  How  was 
 it  with  him  who  had  the  withered  hand  ? 
 "When  Jesus  said  to  him,  "  Stretch  forth 
 thine  hand,"  did  he  reply,  "  I  have  no 
 power  to  do  so  ?"  Xo ;  he  made  a  great 
 eftbrt  to  thrust  it  forth ;  and  in  the  act  of 
 so  doing,  Jesus  gave  the  needed  strength 
 (Matt,  xii,  10—13).  And  now  I  say  to 
 you,  Go  and  do  thoti,  likewise.  Stretch 
 out  the  poor,  weak  hand  of  faith  ;  and  the 
 more  you  do  so,  the  stronger  will  it  be- 
 come. Oxenden. 
 
 FAITH— Extraordinary. 
 
 The  case  of  the  penitent  robber  must 
 still  be  unlike  any  that  can  possibly  occur 
 in  the  present  day.  The  faith  which  he 
 displayed  is  the  most  extraordinary  of  any 
 that  is  recorded. 
 
 To  understand  this  fully,  you  should 
 recollect  that  the  Jews  universally  ex- 
 pected their  Christ  or  Messiah  to  appear  as 
 a  great  temporal  prince,  to  deliver  their 
 nation  from  the  dominion  of  the  Komans 
 — to  overthrow  all  their  enemies — and  to 
 make  them  the  greatest  people  of  the 
 earth.  Many  accordingly  were  disgusted 
 ("  offended,"  or  scandalised,  as  the  sacred 
 historians  express  it)  at  the  humble  station 
 in  which  Jesus  appeared,  while  He  pro- 
 claimed the  kingdom  of  heaven  as  at  hand. 
 And  even  those  who  believed  on  Him  were 
 so  strongly  impressed  with  the  same  expec- 
 tation, that  they  endeavoured  "to  take 
 Him  by  force  to  make  Him  a  king."  His 
 very  apostles  partook  of  these  feelings ;  for 
 we  find  Peter  rebuking  Him,  when  He 
 spoke  of  His  being  scourged  and  crucified, 
 saying,  "Be  it  far  from  Tliee,  Lord  ;  there 
 filial]  no  such  thing  happen  unto  Thee." 
 And  it  is  likely  that  Judas  Iscariot  in  be- 
 traying Him  did  not  meditate  His  destruc- 
 tion, but  thought  He  would  be  forced  into 
 some  display  of  miraculous  power  to  save 
 Himself  from  His  enemies,  and  that  thus 
 He  would  at  once  be  acknowledged  as 
 King  of  the  Jews.  For  Judas  must  have 
 known  that  Jesus  had  such  power,  and 
 could  (as  He  Himself  expressed  it)  "pray 
 to  the  Father,  and  He  would  send  Him 
 more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels."  But 
 when  His  enemies  to  all  appearances  pre- 
 vailed,— when  He  submitted  to  stripes, 
 insults,  and  finally,  the  most  ignominious 
 kind  of  death — the  triumph  of  the  un- 
 believers was  complete,  and  the  last  hopes 
 of  His  followers  seem  to  have  faded  away. 
 They  were  as  little  prepared  as  His  ad- 
 versaries for  such  a  strange  and  unexpected 
 doctrine  as  that  of  a  suftering  Messiah,  who 
 should  through  death  "enter  into  His 
 glory."  One  of  them  had  betrayed  Him  ; 
 another,  who  had  boasted  of  the  most 
 courageous  attachment,  repeatedly  denied 
 Him;  the  rest  "forsook  Him  and  fled." 
 His  enemies  exulted  in  the  proof  which,  to 
 
FAITH. 
 
 their  minds,  His  degrading  death  afforded 
 that  He  could  not  be  the  anointed  of  God ; 
 saving,  "If  thou  be  the  Sou  of  God,  come 
 down  from  the  cross,  and  we  will  believe." 
 That  He  should  "  save  Himself,"  was  the 
 only  way  they  could  imagine  of  His  making 
 good  His  pretensions.  And  accordingly 
 one  of  His  fellow-sufferers  reviled  Him  in 
 the  same  terms,  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of 
 God,  save  thyself  and  us."  Then  it  was 
 that  the  other  malefactor  not  only  rebuked 
 his  companion,  and  bore  witness  to  the 
 innocence  of  Jesus,  saying,  "  This  man 
 hath  dune  nothing  amiss;"  which  proves, 
 by  the  way,  that  he  must  have  known  a 
 ^ood  deal  about  Him  before,  but  acknow- 
 ledged Him  as  a  triumphant  Sovereign 
 ibout  to  enter  upon  His  kingdom.  He  does 
 not  merely  acknowledge  His  Divine  power ; 
 he  does  not  ask  to  be  saved  from  death ; 
 but  to  be  saved  from  after  death ; — to  be 
 remembered  when  Jesus  should  "  come  into 
 His  kingdom."  He  therefore  appears  to 
 have  understood,  or  at  least  suspected, 
 what  none  of  the  other  disciples  at  that 
 time  had  any  idea  of — the  spiritual  nature 
 of  Christ's  kingdom ;  that  it  was  "  not  of 
 this  world;"  and  that  the  rewards  and 
 glories  reserved  for  His  followers  were  those 
 of  the  world  beyond  the  grave.  We  are 
 not  sure,  indeed,  that  the  dying  malefactor 
 was  quite  so  far  enlightened  as  fully  to 
 take  in  this  view  ;  but  at  any  rate  he  did 
 look  for  a  kingdom  of  God  which  the  death 
 of  Jesus  was  not  to  destroy,  but  to  com- 
 plete ;  he  understood  that,  in  some  way 
 or  other,  "  the  Christ  must  suffer  these 
 things  and  enter  into  His  glory." 
 
 This  was  surely  a  most  extraordinary  in- 
 stance of  faith  ;  especially  considering  how 
 strongly  all  the  current  Jewish  prejudices 
 respecting  the  promised  Messiah  set  the 
 other  way  : — hovv  completely  wedded  they 
 were  to  the  expectation  of  a  temporal 
 Deliverer.  And  whether  this  man  were 
 himself  a  Jew  or  a  Gentile,  he  must  have 
 known  that  these  were  the  expectations 
 entertained  by  all  parties.  Yet  in  opposi- 
 tion to  all  these  prejudices,  this  man 
 acknewledged  as  his  Lord  and  King — as 
 the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  unseen  world — 
 a  person  who  was  nailed  to  a  cross  beside 
 him,  derided  by  His  enemies,  deserted  by 
 His  friends,  and  about  to  conclude  a  perse- 
 cuted life  by  the  most  ignominious  death. 
 Archbishop  Whately. 
 
 FAITH— in  Falsehood. 
 
 Perhaps  the  most  absurd  and  injurious 
 adage  that  has  ever  gained  currency 
 among  mankind  is,  that  "  it  is  no  difference 
 wnat  a  man  believes,  if  he  only  be  sincere." 
 Now,  the  truth  is,  that  the  more  sincerely 
 a  man  believes  falsehood,  the  more  de- 
 structive it  is  to  all  his  interests,  for  time 
 and  eternity.     This  statement  can  be  con- 
 
 firmed in  every  mind  beyond  the  reach  of 
 doubt.  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 A  gentleman  of  property  and  the  highest 
 respectability,  in  the  course  of  his  business 
 transactions,  became  acquainted  with  an 
 individual,  who,  as  the  event  showed,  was  a 
 man  destitute,  in  a  great  degree,  of  a  con- 
 scientious regard  for  truth.  The  jier- 
 suasions  and  false  representations  of  this 
 man  led  the  gentleman  referred  to,  to  em- 
 bark almost  his  entire  fortune  with  him  in 
 speculations  in  which  he  was  at  that  time 
 engaged.  While  this  matter  was  in  pro- 
 press,  the  friends  of  the  gentleman  called 
 upon  him,  and  stated  their  doubts  of  the 
 individual's  integrity  who  solicited  his  con- 
 fidence, and  likewise  of  the  success  of  the 
 enterprises  in  which  he  was  solicited  to 
 engage.  The  advice  of  his  friends  was  re- 
 jected— he  placed  confidence  in  the  false 
 statements  of  the  individual  referred  to — 
 he  acted  upon  those  statements,  and  was, 
 consequentlj',  involved  in  pecuniary  dis- 
 tress. In  this  case,  the  gentleman  not 
 only  sincerely  believed  the  falsehood  to  be 
 the  truth,  but  he  had  good  motives  in  re- 
 lation to  the  object  which  he  desired  to 
 accomplish.  He  was  a  benevolent  man. 
 He  had  expended  considerable  sums  for 
 charitable  and  religious  uses,  and  his  desire 
 was,  Iiy  fclie  increase  of  his  property,  to  be 
 enabh-'d  to  accomplish  greater  good.  In 
 this  case  he  was  injured  likewise  by  be- 
 lieving what  others  did  not  believe.  The 
 individual  who  seduced  him  into  the  specu- 
 lation had  endeavoiired  to  lead  others  to 
 take  the  same  views  and  to  act  in  the 
 same  way  ;  they  did  not  believe  the  false- 
 hood, and  were,  consequently,  saved ;  he 
 believed,  and  was,  consequently,  ruined. 
 
 When  the  English  army  under  Harold, 
 and  the  Norman,  under  William  the  Con- 
 queror, were  set  in  array  for  that  fearful 
 conflict  which  decided  the  fate  of  the  two 
 armies,  and  the  political  destinies  of  Great 
 Britain,  William,  perceiving  that  he  could 
 not,  by  a  fair  attack,  move  the  solid  columns 
 of  the  English  ranks,  had  recourse  to  a 
 false  movement,  in  order  to  gain  the  vic- 
 tory. He  gave  orders  that  one  flank  of 
 his  army  should  feign  to  be  flying  from 
 the  field  in  disorder.  The  oflicers  of  the 
 English  army  believed  the  falsehood,  pur- 
 sued them,  and  were  cut  oft".  A  second 
 time,  a  false  movement  was  made  in 
 another  part  of  the  field.  The  English 
 again  believed,  pursued,  and  were  cut  off. 
 By  these  movements  the  fortunes  of  the  day 
 were  determined.  Although  the  English 
 had  the  evidence  of  their  senses,  yet  they 
 were  led  to  believe  a  falsehood — they  acted 
 in  view  of  it;  the  consequence  was,  the  de- 
 struction of  a  great  part  of  their  army,  and 
 the  establishment  of  the  Norman  power  in 
 England. 
 
324 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 How  often  does  it  occur  that  tlie  young 
 female,  possessing  warm  alFections  and 
 being  inexperienced  in  the  wiles  of  villains, 
 is  led  to  believe  falsehood  which  destroys 
 her  prospects  and  her  happiness  while  life 
 lasts !  Under  other  circumstances,  she 
 might  have  been  virtuous,  useful,  happy. 
 By  false  indications  of  affection  her  heart 
 is  won — by  false  promises  of  faithfulness 
 and  future  good,  her  assent  to  marry  is 
 gained — ^and  then,  when  too  late,  she  dis- 
 covers that  her  husband  is  a  villian,  and 
 she  is  forsaken,  with  a  broken  heart,  to 
 the  cold  sympathies  of  a  selfish  world.  No 
 matter  how  many  hearts,  besides  her  own, 
 are  broken  by  her  error !  No  matter  how 
 sincere,  how  guileless,  or  how  young;  she 
 sincerely  believed  the  falsehood,  and  is 
 thereby  ruined  !  Nothing  in  heaven  or  on 
 earth  will  avert  the  consequences.  If  she 
 had  doubted,  she  would  have  been  saved. 
 She  believed,  and  is  consigned  to  son-ow 
 till  she  sinks  into  her  grave. 
 
 The  belief  of  falseliood  in  relation  to 
 spiritual  ihinys,  destroys  man's  spiritual 
 interests. 
 
 It  is  an  incontrovertible  fact  that  the 
 whole  heathen  world,  ancient  and  modern, 
 have  believed  in  and  worshipped  unholy 
 beings  as  gods.  Now  from  the  necessities 
 of  the  case,  the  worshipper  becomes  assi- 
 milated to  the  character  of  the  object 
 worshipped.  In  consequence  of  believing 
 falsehood  concerning  the  character  of  God, 
 all  heathendom,  at  the  present  hour,  is 
 filled  with  ignorance,  impurity,  and  crime. 
 As  a  mass  of  corruption  spreads  contagion 
 and  death  among  all  those  who  approach 
 it,  so  certainly  does  the  worship  of  unholy 
 beings  attaint  the  soul,  and  spread  moral 
 corruption  through  the  world.  "Can  a 
 man  take  coals  into  his  bosom  and  not  be 
 burned  ?"  neither  can  the  soul  hold  com- 
 munion with  beings  believed  to  be  unholy 
 and  not  itself  become  corrupt. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 PAITH— Firm. 
 
 O  for  a  faith  too  firm  to  peer 
 
 For  cloud-born  joy  or  treasure  here, 
 
 To  grieve  o'er  earth-reeds  broken  now, 
 
 O'er  dream  of  youth  and  film-spun  vow — 
 
 Though,  far  as  eye  of  sense  may  see. 
 
 Not  one  green  hope  is  left  for  me, 
 
 'Tis  summer-land  for  loving  heart 
 
 In  every  sojourn  where  Thou  art.        S.N. 
 
 FAITH— as  Gold. 
 
 1.  Gold  is  precious ;  so  is  faith. 
 
 2.  Gold  is  very  desirable  for  many  things 
 of  life ;  so  is  faith  for  all  things  of  religion. 
 
 3.  Gold  is  tried  by  refinement  in  the 
 fire,  by  weight,  by  ringing,  &c.,  in  order 
 to  discover  whether  it  is  genuine;  so  is 
 faith  tried  in  various  ways  by  God. 
 
 4.  Gold,  pure  and  current,  is  compara- 
 
 tively scarce ;  so  is  the  true,  saving  faith  of 
 the  Gospel.  B.  Keach. 
 
 FAITH— Happiness  of. 
 
 Christians  might  avoid  much  trouble 
 and  inconvenience,  if  they  would  only  be- 
 lieve what  they  profess — that  God  is  able 
 to  make  them  happy  without  anything 
 else.  They  imagine  if  such  a  dear  friend 
 were  to  die,  or  such  and  such  blessings  to 
 be  removed,  they  should  be  miserable; 
 whereas  God  can  make  them  a  thousand 
 times  happier  without  them.  To  mention 
 my  own  case — God  has  been  depriving  me 
 of  one  blessing  after  another  ;  but  as  every 
 one  was  removed.  He  has  come  in,  and 
 filled  up  its  place ;  and  now,  when  I  am  a 
 cripple,  and  not  able  to  move,  I  am  happier 
 than  ever  I  was  in  my  life  before,  or  ever 
 expected  to  be ;  and  if  I  had  believed  this 
 twenty  years  ago,  I  might  have  been  spared 
 much  anxiety.  JDr.  Bayson. 
 
 FAITH— Infallibility  of. 
 
 I  know  a  courier,  swift  and  sure,  who 
 will  carry  us  to  the  absent — Faith.  He 
 knows  the  road!  have  no  fear,  he  will  not 
 stumble  or  stray.      Madame  de  Gaspariii. 
 
 FAITH— Influence  of. 
 
 If  by  the  eyes  of  fiiith  we  see  the  things 
 of  God  in  the  light  of  His  word  and  Spirit, 
 they  will  produce  similar  effects  to  what  a 
 sight  of  the  things  of  earth  do.  We  see 
 with  our  eyes  that  we  are  in  a  world  where 
 certain  things  are  to  be  heard,  felt,  tasted, 
 possessed,  and  enjoyed,  and  the  efi'ect  is  we 
 seek  them,  and  live  by  them.  So  if  we  open 
 our  eyes  of  faith  we  shall  see  the  spiritual 
 things  of  the  Gospel,  which  are  for  the 
 hearing,  the  tasting,  the  possession,  and 
 the  enjoyment  of  our  souls  ;  and  as  we  see 
 them  in  their  nature,  relation,  importance, 
 &c.,  so  shall  we  seek  after  them  and  live  by 
 them,  the  spiritual  life  of  godliness. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 FAITH— Justifying. 
 
 Justifying  faith  implies  not  only  a  Divine 
 evidence  or  conviction  that  "God  was  in 
 Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  Him- 
 self," hut  a  sure  trust  and  confidence  that 
 Christ  died  for  my  sins,  that  He  loved  me, 
 and  gave  Himself  for  me.  And  at  what 
 time  soever  a  sinner  thus  believes,  be  it  in 
 his  early  childhood,  in  the  strength  of  his 
 years,  or  when  he  is  old  and  hoary-haired, 
 God  justifieth  that  ungodly  one;  God  for 
 the  sake  of  His  Son,  pardoneth  and  ab- 
 solveth  him,  who  had  in  him,  till  tlien,  no 
 good  thing.  J.  Wesley^ 
 
 Justifying  faith  is  such  a  belief  of  the 
 Gospel  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
 
FAITH. 
 
 325 
 
 as  leads  us  to  come  to  Christ,  to  receive 
 Christ,  to  trust  in  Christ,  and  to  commit 
 the  keeping  of  our  souls  into  His  hands 
 in  huuihle  confidence  of  His  ability  and 
 His  willingness  to  save  us.      Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 /  True  justifying   faith  consists  in  three 
 things. 
 
 1.  SelJ-renunciation. — Faith  is  a  going 
 out  of  one's  self;  a  man  is  taken  off  from 
 his  own  bottom,  he  sees  he  hath  no 
 righteousness  of  his  own  to  save  him. 
 "  Not  having  ray  own  self-righteousness" 
 (Phil,  iii,  y).  Self-righteousness  is  a 
 broken  reed  the  soul  dares  not  lean  on. 
 Kepentance  and  faith  are  both  humbling 
 graces ;  by  repentance  a  man  abhors 
 himself,  by  faith  he  goes  out  of  himself. 
 It  is  with  the  sinner  in  the  first  act 
 of  believing,  as  with  Israel  in  their  wilder- 
 ness  march ;  behind  them  they  saw 
 Pharaoh  and  his  chariots  pursuing  them, 
 before  them  the  Red  Sea  ready  to  devour 
 them.  So  the  soul  behind  sees  God's  jus- 
 tice pursuing  him  for  sin ;  before,  hell 
 ready  to  devour  him ;  and,  in  this  forlorn 
 condition,  he  sees  nothing  in  himself  to 
 help  him,  but  he  must  perish  unless  he  can 
 find  help  in  another. 
 
 2.  Recumbency. — The  soul  casts  itself 
 upon  Jesus  Christ ;  "  faith  rests  on  Christ's 
 person."  Faith  believes  the  promises; 
 but  that  which  faith  rests  upon  in  the  pro- 
 mise is  the  person  of  Christ  j  therefore  the 
 spouse  is  said  to  "  lean  upon  her  beloved  " 
 (Cant,  viii,  5).  And  faith  is  described  to  be 
 a  believing  on  the  name  of  the  Son  of  God 
 (John  iii,  23),  viz.,  on  His  person.  The 
 promise  is  but  the  cabinet,  Christ  is  the 
 jewel  in  it,  which  faith  embraceth ;  the 
 promise  is  but  the  dish,  Christ  is  the  food 
 in  it  which  faith  feeds  on.  And  as  faith 
 rests  upon  Clirist's  person,  so  on  His 
 person  under  this  notion,  "  as  He  was  cru- 
 cified "  Faith  glories  in  the  cross  of 
 Clirist  (Gal.  vi,  14).  To  consider  Christ  as 
 He  is  crowned  with  all  manner  of  excel- 
 lencies, doth  rather  stir  up  admiration 
 and  wonder ;  but  Christ  looked  upon  as 
 bleeding  and  dying,  is  the  proper  object  of 
 our  faith,  therefore  it  is  called  "  faith  in 
 His  blood"  (Rom.  iii,  25). 
 
 3.  Appropriation,  or  the  applying  Christ 
 to  ourselves;  a  medicine,  though  it  be 
 never  so  sovereign,  yet  if  not  applied  to 
 the  wound,  will  do  no  good;  though  the 
 plaister  be  made  of  Christ's  own  blood, 
 yet  it  will  not  heal  unless  it  be  applied  by 
 faith;  the  blood  of  God  without  faitVi  in 
 God,  will  not  save.  This  applying  of 
 Christ  is  called  a  receiving  of  Him  (John 
 i,  12).  The  hand  receiving  of  gold  en- 
 richeth,  so  the  hand  of  faith  receiving 
 Christ's  golden  merits  with  salvation,  en- 
 richeth  us.  T.  Watson. 
 
 FAITH— Justifying. 
 
 Faith  brings  justification,  not  by  any 
 special  excellency  it  hath  in  itself,  but  only 
 by  that  place  and  office  wliich  God  hath 
 assigned  it ;  it  is  the  condition  on  our 
 parts.  So  the  apostle  instructed  the  jailer : 
 "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and 
 thou  shalt  be  saved."  God's  ordinance 
 gives  that  thing  the  blessing  which  it  hath 
 not  in  its  own  nature.  If  Naaman  had 
 gone  of  his  own  head  and  washed  him- 
 self seven  times  in  Jordan,  he  had  not 
 been  healed;  it  was  God's  command  that 
 gave  those  waters  such  purgnig  virtue.  If 
 the  Israelites,  stung  with  those  fiery  ser- 
 pents in  the  desert, had  of  theirown  devising 
 set  up  a  brazen  serpent  they  had  not  been 
 cured;  it  was  neither  the  material  brass, 
 nor  the  serpentine  form,  but  the  direction 
 of  God  which  effected  it.  It  was  not  the 
 statue  but  the  statute,  that  gave  the 
 virtue.  So  faith  for  its  own  merit  brings 
 none  to  heaven,  but  for  the  promise  which 
 the  God  of  grace  and  truth  had  made 
 to  it.  T.  Adams. 
 
 FAITH— Knowledge  of. 
 
 St.  Chrysostom  is  wont  to  insist,  by 
 virtue  of  faith,  rustic  and  mechanic  idiots 
 do,  in  true  knowledge,  surpass  the  most 
 refined  wits,  and  children  prove  wiser  than 
 old  philosophers  ;  an  idiot  can  tell  us  that 
 which  a  learned  infidel  doth  not  know  ;  a 
 child  can  assure  us  that  wherein  a  deep  phi- 
 losopher is  not  resolved ;  for  ask  a  boor,  as  a 
 boy  educated  in  our  religion,  who  made  him, 
 he  will  tell  you,  God  Almighty ;  which  is 
 more  than  Aristotle  or  Democritus  would 
 have  told ;  demand  of  him  why  he  was  made, 
 he  will  answer  you,  to  serve  and  glorify  his 
 Maker;  and  hardly  would  Pythagoras  or 
 Plato  have  replied  so  wisely;  examine  him 
 concerning  his  soul,  he  will  aver  that  it  is 
 immortal,  that  it  shall  undergo  a  judg- 
 ment after  this  life,  that  accordingly  it 
 shall  abide  in  a  state  of  bliss  or  misery 
 everlasting ;  about  which  points  neither 
 Socrates  nor  Seneca  could  assure  anything ; 
 inquire  of  him  how  things  are  upheld,  how 
 governed  and  ordered;  he  presently  will 
 reply,  by  the  powerful  hand  and  wise  pro- 
 vidence of  God ;  whereas,  among  philo- 
 sophers, one  would  ascribe  all  events  to 
 the  current  of  fiite,  another  to  the  tides  of 
 fortune ;  one  to  blind  influences  of  stars, 
 another  to  a  confused  jumble  of  atoms  j 
 pose  him  about  the  main  points  of  morality 
 and  duty,  and  he  will,  in  a  few  words, 
 better  inform  you  than  Cicero,  or  Epic- 
 tetus,  or  Aristotle,  or  Plutarch,  in  their 
 large  tracts  and  voluminous  discourses 
 about  matters  of  that  nature.  Dr.  Barroiv. 
 
 FAITH— Life  of. 
 
 Have  you  ever  thought  of  the  life  of  a 
 child  ?     Why,  the  life  of  a  child  is  a  perfect 
 
326 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 life  of  faith.  That  little  chikl— what  can 
 that  little  chikl  do?  Why  that  little 
 child  could  not  find  its  way'to  the  street 
 end  and  back  again.  It  would  be  lost  if 
 you  trusted  it  alone.  That  little  child 
 could  not  find  the  next  meal.  If  you  left 
 that  little  child  it  would  die  of  want. 
 That  little  child  could  not  furnish  a  shelter 
 for  its  own  head  to-night;  and  yet,  has 
 that  little  child  any  fear  about  it  ?  Has 
 that  little  chiid  any  sort  of  alarm  about  it  ? 
 Not  at  all !  How  comes  it  that  the  child's 
 life  is  the  happy  life  it  is  ?  Because,  in- 
 stinctively and  beautifully,  it  is  a  life  of 
 faith.  Tliat  child  could  not  buy  the  next 
 loaf,  but  it  has  a  firm  belief  that  "father" 
 can.  That  cliild  could  not  provide  for 
 itself  the  garments  for  to-morrow,  but  it 
 has  an  unbounded  belief  in  "father's" 
 power  to  do  it,  and  "  mother's"  power  to 
 do  it.  That  child  could  not  do  it  for  itself 
 one  day,  but  it  never  costs  that  child  a 
 moment's  concern.  Its  life  is  a  life  of 
 perfect  fiiith  in  its  parents.  S.  Colei/. 
 
 FAITH— Manifestation  of. 
 
 Faith  is  manifested,  either  by  itself  re- 
 flecting upon  itself  the  light  of  faith,  dis- 
 covering both  itself  and  other  things,  or 
 by  the  cause  of  it,  or  by  the  etiect,  or  by 
 all.  Faith  is  oft  more  known  to  us  in  the 
 fruit  of  it,  than  in  itself,  as  in  plants  the 
 fruits  are  more  apparent  than  the  sap  and 
 root.  ...  All  the  vigour  and  beauty 
 in  nature  which  we  see,  comes  from  a 
 secret  influence  from  the  heavens  which 
 we  see  not;  in  a  clear  morning  we  see  the 
 beams  of  the  sun  shining  upon  the  top  of 
 hills  and  houses  before  we  can  see  the  sun 
 itself.  Slbbes. 
 
 FAITH— Necessity  of. 
 
 Would  the  agriculturist  have  God  to 
 perform  mighty  works  on  his  fields,  cover- 
 ing them  in  autumn  with  abundant  crops  ? 
 then  he  must  have  faith  in  the  laws  of 
 nature,  and  in  tlie  capacity  of  his  soil. 
 Would  the  poor  man  have  God  to  perform 
 mighty  works  for  him,  raise  him  from 
 penury  and  obscurity  to  wealth  and  in- 
 fluence? he  must  have  faith  in  the  prin- 
 ciple that  "  the  hand  of  the  diligent  maketh 
 rich."  Would  the  statesman  have  God  to 
 perform  mighty  works  for  his  country  ? 
 he  must  in  all  the  measures  he  proposes 
 and  the  laws  he  enacts,  have  faith  in  the 
 truth  that  "  Righteousness  cxalteth  a  na- 
 tion." It  is  so  in  everything.  "  He  that 
 hdth  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  shall 
 say  to  this  mountain,"  &c.  Would  you 
 like  to  know  what  God  has  done  through 
 faith  ?  Kead  the  eleventh  chapter  of  the 
 Hebrews.  Br.  Thomas. 
 
 FAITH— Personal. 
 
 Wliosoever  will  go  to  heaven  must  have 
 
 a  faith  of  his  own.  In  Gideon's  camp 
 every  soldier  had  his  own  pitcher;  among 
 Solomon's  men  of  valour  every  one  wore 
 his  own  sword,  and  these  were  they  that 
 got  the  victories.  The  five  wise  virgins 
 had  every  one  oil  in  her  lamp,  and  only 
 these  enter  in  with  the  bridegroom.  Ano- 
 ther's eating  of  dainty  meat  makes  thee 
 none  the  fatter.  T.  Adams. 
 
 FAITH— Power  of. 
 
 Faith   builds  a  bridge  across  the  gulf  of 
 
 death. 
 To  break  the  shock  blind  Nature   cannot 
 
 shun, 
 And  lands  thought  smoothly  on  the  farther 
 
 side.  Young, 
 
 Death's  terror  is  the  mountain  fiith  re- 
 moves. 
 
 That  mountain-barrier  between  man  and 
 peace : 
 
 'Tis  faith  disarms  destruction,  and  absolves 
 
 From  every  clamorous  charge  the  guiltless 
 tomb.  Ibid. 
 
 The  root  of  a  tree  is  a  ragged  and  a 
 jagged  thing,  no  shape,  no  proportion,  no 
 comeliness  in  it,  and  therefore  keeps  itself 
 in  the  earth,  as  unwilling  to  be  seen;  yet 
 all  the  beauty  that  is  in  the  tree,  the 
 straightness  of  the  bulk  and  body,  the 
 spreading  fiiirness  of  the  branches,  the  gloi-y 
 of  the  leaves  and  flowers,  the  commodity 
 of  the  fruits,  proceed  from  the  root;  by 
 that  the  whole  subsisteth.  So  faith  seems 
 to  be  but  a  sorry  grace,  a  virtue  of  no  re- 
 gard:  devotion  is  acceptable,  for  it  honours 
 God;  charity  is  noble,  for  it  does  good  to 
 men  ;  holiness  is  the  image  of  heaven,  tliere- 
 fore  beauteous ;  thankfulness  is  the  tune  of 
 angels,  therefore  melodious.  But  what  is 
 faith  good  for  ?  Yes,  it  is  good  for  every 
 good  purpose,  the  foundation  and  root  of 
 all  graces.  All  the  prayers  made  by  de- 
 votion, all  the  good  works  done  by  charity, 
 all  the  actual  expressions  of  holiness,  all 
 the  praises  sounded  forth  by  thankfulness, 
 come  from  the  root  of  faith,  that  is  the  life 
 of  them  all.  Faith  doth  animate  works, 
 as  the  body  lives  by  the  soul.  Sjjencer. 
 
 FAITH— in  Prayer. 
 
 Alexander  the  Great  had  a  famous  hut 
 indigent  philosopher  in  his  court.  This 
 adept  in  science  was  once  particularly 
 straitened  in  his  circumstances.  To  whom 
 should  he  apply,  but  to  his  patron,  the 
 conqueror  of  the  world.  He  no  sooner 
 made  his  request  than  it  was  granted. 
 Alexander  gave  him  a  commission  to  re- 
 ceive of  his  treasury  whatever  he  wanted. 
 He  immediately  demanded,  in  his  sove- 
 reign's name,  ten  thousand  pounds.  The 
 treasurer,  surprised  at  so  large  a  demand, 
 refused  to  comply;   but  waited  upon  the 
 
FAITH. 
 
 327 
 
 king,  and  told  liim  of  the  request,  adding, 
 withal,  how  unreasonable  he  thought  the 
 petition,  and  how  exorbitant  the  sum. 
 Alexander  heard  hini  with  patience,  but  as 
 soon  as  he  had  ended  his  remonstrance,  he 
 replied,  "  Let  the  money  be  instantly  paid ; 
 I  am  delighted  with  this  philosopher's  way 
 of  thinking;  he  has  done  me  a  singular 
 honour;  by  the  largeness  of  his  request, 
 he  shows  the  high  idea  he  has  conceived  I 
 both  of  my  superior  wealth  and  my  royal  i 
 munificence."  We  cannot  honour  God 
 more  than  by  believing  what  He  says,  and 
 act  under  that  faith  in  all  our  requests  at  i 
 His  throne.  "All  things  whatsoever  ye 
 ask  in  prayer,  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  ! 
 "  My  God  shall  supply  all  your  need  ac- 
 cording to  his  riches  in  glory  by  Christ 
 Jesus."  "  Hither  ye  have  asked  nothing; 
 ask  and  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full." 
 "  Ask  of  God,  who  giveth  liberally  and  up- 
 braideth  not."  Anon. 
 
 FAITH— Precious. 
 
 The  preciousness  of  faith  may  be  illus- 
 trated by  the  following  particulars  , — 
 
 1.  The  names  given  to  it — (1)  It  is 
 called  a  lively  faith.  (2)  An  eflectual  faith. 
 (3)  The  faith  of  God's  elect.  (4)  Un- 
 feigned faith.  (5)  Faith  that  works  by 
 love.  (6)  Faith  of  the  operation  of  God. 
 (7)  Holy  faith.  (8)  Faith  of  the  Son  of 
 God. 
 
 2.  The  Fountain  whence  it  flows. 
 
 3.  The  means  by  which  it  is  wrought  in 
 the  soul — the  word;  the  Spirit;  ordinances. 
 
 4.  The  objects  on  which  it  rests — God; 
 Christ ;  Spirit ;  promises,  &c. 
 
 5.  The  blessings  which  it  is  the  means 
 of  procuring:  forgiveness  of  sin;  union 
 with  Christ ;  witness  of  the  Spirit ;  adop- 
 tion; interest  in  the  promises;  prospect  of 
 heaven,  &c. 
 
 6.  The  fruits  of  it — expels  fear ;  revives 
 the  faint ;  strengthens  hope ;  perfects  love ; 
 conquers  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
 devil.  B.  Keach. 
 
 As  the  lapidary  that  shows  the  buyer  an 
 orient  pearl,  and  having  a  little  fed  his 
 eye  with  that,  outpleaseth  him  with  a 
 sapphire,  yet  outvalues  that  with  some 
 ruby  or  chrysolite,  wherewith  ravished,  he 
 (loth  lastly  amaze  him  witli  a  sparkling 
 diamond  transcending  all;  or  as  drapers 
 show  divers  coloui-s,  yet  at  last  for  a  mas- 
 terpiece exceed  all  with  a  piece  of  scarlet ; 
 so  there  are  divers  virtues  like  jewels,  but 
 the  most  precious  virtue  of  all  is  faith. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 FAITH— Eegion  o£ 
 
 The  region  of  unbelief  is  black  with 
 God's  frown,  and  filled  with  plagues  and 
 wrath ;  but  the  region  of  faith  is  as  the 
 floor  of  heavea  for  brightness.    Christ's 
 
 righteousnesi?  shelters  it,  the  graces  of  the 
 Spirit  beautify  it,  and  the  eternal  smile  of 
 God  comforts  and  glorifies  it.       Dr.  Hoge. 
 
 FAITH— Eepose  of. 
 
 Faith  looked  at  in  reference  to  God  is  a 
 spirit  of  quietude  and  repose.  Nothing  so 
 full  of  conscious  helplessness  and  simple 
 trust.  No  little  bird  beneath  its  parent's 
 wing,  no  child  upon  its  mother's  lap.  so 
 gentle  and  confiding.  A  lion  in  conflict 
 with  the  powers  of  hell,  faith  lies  down 
 like  a  lamb  at  the  feet  of  the  Lord  of 
 Heaven.  It  returns  and  rests  "  in  quiet- 
 ness and  in  confidence."  Indeed,  in  this 
 way  it  obtains  salvation  and  strength. 
 The  calm  resting  upon  God  makes  it  vic- 
 torious over  all  beside.  In  truth,  it  is  He 
 who  fights  for  the  believer,  ivith  the  be- 
 liever, in  the  believer.  Faith  does  nothing 
 alone,  nothing  of  itself,  but  everything 
 under  God,  by  God,  through  God.  It  /» 
 only  in  a  qualified  sense  that  faith  makos 
 war  and  gets  victory.  "  The  excellency  of 
 the  power  is  of  God,  and  not  of  us."  Its 
 humble  dependence,  its  meek,  child-like 
 spirit,  after  all  constitute  its  proper  self. 
 These  are  the  essence  and  life  of  faith. 
 
 J.  StougMon. 
 FAITH— Salvation  hy. 
 
 No  man  is  justified  by  the  deeds  of  the 
 law,  but  by  the  faith  of  Christ.  He  was 
 punished  for  thee,  and  therefore  thou  shalt 
 not  be  punished.  I  do  not  say  we  ought 
 to  do  no  good  deeds ;  but  I  say,  we  should 
 do  no  good  works  to  the  intent  to  obtain 
 remission  of  sins,  and  the  inheritance  of 
 heaven;  for  God  saith.  Thy  sins  are 
 forgiven  for  my  Son's  sake,  and  thou  shalt 
 have  the  inheritance  of  heaven  for  my 
 Son's  sake.  I  condemn  not  good  deeds, 
 but  I  condemn  trust  in  our  works;  for  all 
 the  works  wherein  a  man  possesseth  any 
 confidence,  are  by  his  confidence  poisoned 
 and  become  evil ;  wherefore  thou  must  do 
 good  works,  and  beware  of  doing  them  with 
 the  view  to  deserve  any  good  for  them. 
 In  a  Christian  man's  life,  and  in  order  of 
 doctrine,  there  is  the  law,  repentance,  hope, 
 charity,  and  the  deeds  of  charity ;  yet  in 
 the  act  of  justification,  there  is  nothing 
 else  in  man  that  hath  part  or  place,  but 
 faith  alone,  apprehending  the  object,  which 
 is  Christ  crucified,  in  whom  is  all  the 
 worthiness  and  fulness  of  our  salvation. 
 
 JPatrick  Hamilton. 
 FAITH— Saving. 
 
 It  is  not  the  quantity  of  thy  faith  that 
 shall  save  thee.  A  drop  of  water  is  as  true 
 water  as  the  whole  ocean.  So  a  little  faith 
 is  as  true  faith  as  the  greatest.  A  child 
 eight  days  old  is  as  really  a  man  as  one  of 
 sixty  years;  a  spark  of  fire  is  as  true  fire 
 as  a  great  flame ;  a  sickly  man  is  as  true 
 living  as  a  well  man.    So  it  is  not  the 
 
FAITH. 
 
 measure  of  thy  faith  that  saves  thee— it  is 
 ike  blood  that  it  grips  to,  that  saves  thee ; 
 as  the  weak  hand  of  a  child,  tliat  leads  the 
 spoou  to  the  mouth,  will  feed  as  well  as 
 the  strong  arm  of  a  man ;  for  it  is  not  the 
 hand  that  feeds  thee — albeit  it  puts  the 
 meat  into  thy  mouth,  but  it  is  the  meat 
 carried  into  the  stomach,  that  feeds  thee. 
 So  if  thou  canst  grip  Christ  ever  so  weakly, 
 He  will  not  let  thee  perish.  All  that 
 looked  to  the  brazen  serpent,  ever  so  far 
 oH',  they  were  healed  of  the  sting  of  the 
 fiery  serpent,  yet  all  saw  not  alike  clearly, 
 for  some  were  near  at  hand  and  some  were 
 fur  oft".  Those  that  were  near  at  hand 
 might  see  more  clearly  than  those  that 
 were  far  oft";  nevertheless  those  that  were 
 far  off  were  as  soon  healed  of  the  sting, 
 when  they  looked  to  the  serpent,  as  those  I 
 that  were  near  at  hand;  for  it  was  not 
 their  look  that  made  them  whole,  but  He 
 whom  the  serpent  did  represent.  So  if 
 thou  canst  look  to  Christ  ever  so  meanly, 
 He  can  take  away  the  sting  of  thy  con- 
 science, if  thou  believest ;  the  weakest 
 hands  can  take  a  gift,  as  well  as  the 
 strongest.  Now  Christ  is  this  gift,  and 
 weak  faith  may  grip  Him  as  well  as  strong 
 faith,  and  Christ  is  as  truly  thine  when 
 thou  hast  weak  faith,  as  when  thou  hast 
 come  to  those  triumphant  joys  through  the 
 strength  of  faith.  Welsh. 
 
 There  are  divers  degrees  of  faith,  as 
 divers-coloured  cloths,  but  the  saving  faith 
 is  arrayed  in  the  scarlet  robe,  hath  dipped 
 and  dyed  herself  in  the  blood  of  her  Saviour 
 Jesus;  yet  is  she  white,  pure  white,  as 
 the  snow  of  Lebanon.  So  are  all  that  be 
 washed  in  that  red  fountain  :  "  They  have 
 washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white 
 in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  T.  Adams. 
 
 What  faith  is  it,  then,  through  which  we 
 are  saved  ?  It  may  be  answered,  first,  in 
 general,  "  It  is  a  faith  in  Christ ;  Christ, 
 and  God  through  Christ,  are  the  proper 
 objects  of  it."  Herein,  therefore,  it  is  suffi- 
 ciently, absolutely  distinguished  from  the 
 faith  of  either  ancient  or  modern  heathens. 
 And  from  the  faith  of  a  devil,  it  is  fully 
 distinguished  by  this — it  is  not  barely  a 
 speculative  rational  thing,  a  cold  lifeless 
 assent,  a  train  of  ideas  in  the  head ;  but 
 also  a  disposition  of  the  heart.  For  thus 
 saith  the  Scripture,  "  With  the  heart  man 
 believeth  unto  righteousness.  And  if  thou 
 shalt  confess  with  thy  mouth  the  Lord 
 Jesus,  and  shalt  believe  with  thy  heart, 
 that  God  hath  raised  Him  from  the  dead, 
 thou  shalt  be  saved." 
 
 And  herein  does  it  differ  from  that  faith 
 which  the  apostles  themselves  had  while 
 our  Lord  was  on  earth,  that  it  acknowledges 
 the  necessity  and  merit  of  His  death,  and 
 
 the  power  of  His  resurrection,  as  the  resto- 
 ration of  us  to  all  life  and  immortality,  in- 
 asmuch as  "  He  was  delivered  for  our  sins, 
 and  rose  again  for  our  justification."  Chris- 
 tian faith  is,  then,  not  only  an  assent  to 
 the  whole  Gospel  of  Christ,  but  also  a  full 
 reliance  on  the  blood  of  Christ — a  trust  in 
 the  merits  of  His  life,  death,  and  resurrec- 
 tion ;  a  recumbency  upon  him  as  our  atone- 
 ment and  our  life,  as  given  for  us,  and 
 living  in  us.  It  is  a  sure  confidence  which 
 a  man  hath  in  God,  that  through  the 
 merits  of  Christ  his  sins  are  forgiven,  and 
 he  reconciled  to  the  favour  of  God ;  and  in 
 consequence  hereof,  a  closing  with  Him 
 and  cleaving  to  Him  as  our  "  wisdom, 
 righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemp- 
 tion ;"  or,  in  one  word,  our  Saltation. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 FAITH— as  a  Shield. 
 
 1.  A  shield  js  a  piece  of  armour  that 
 soldiers  were  wont  to  carry  with  them  into 
 the  field  of  battle ;  so  is  faith  a  part  of  the 
 Christian's  armour  with  which  he  fights  iu 
 the  soul's  warfare. 
 
 2.  A  shield  is  for  defence;  so  is  faith. 
 
 3.  A  shield  is  not  a  fixture  for  any  par- 
 ticular part  of  the  body,  as  the  breast- 
 plate, the  helmet,  &c.,  but  was  for  the 
 hand,  to  be  moved  about  according  to  the 
 direction  in  which  the  darts  came;  so  is 
 faith  a  shield  against  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
 wicked,  coming  to  whatever  part  of  the 
 Christian  they  may. 
 
 4.  A  shield  doth  not  only  defend  the 
 whole  body,  but  it  is  a  defence  to  other 
 parts  of  a  soldier's  armour  also;  it  keeps 
 off  the  dart  from  the  helmet  and  breastplate 
 likewise;  so  faith  is  not  cnly  a  safeguard 
 to  the  whole  soul,  but  to  all  the  particular 
 parts  of  the  Christian  life  and  character. 
 The  shield  of  fiiith  protects  the  girdle  of 
 the  truth,  the  helmet  of  salvation,  and  the 
 breastplate  of  righteousness. 
 
 5.  A  shield  hath  been  of  wonderful  ad- 
 vantage to  soldiers  of  former  times.  What 
 wonderful  things  can  be  said  of  Taith  as  a 
 shield  in  the  hands  of  God's  people  in  all 
 ages  (See  Heb.  xi).  £.  Reach. 
 FAITH— Sight  of. 
 
 Sight  is  the  noblest  sense;  it  is  quick 
 — we  can  look  from  earth  to  heaven  in  a 
 moment;  it  is  large — we  can  seethe  hemi- 
 sphere of  the  heavens  at  one  view;  it  is 
 sure  and  certain — in  hearing  we  may  be 
 deceived;  and  lastly,  it  is  the  most  affe(;t- 
 ing  sense.  Even  so,  faith  is  the  quickest, 
 the  largest,  the  most  certain,  the  most 
 aft'ecting  grace ;  like  an  eagle  in  the  clouds, 
 at  one  view  it  sees  Christ  in  heaven,  and 
 looks  down  upon  the  world ;  it  looks  back- 
 wards and  forwards,  it  sees  things  past, 
 present,  and  to  come.  Sibbes. 
 
 As  Elisha  saw  horses  and  chariots  sur- 
 
FAITH. 
 
 329 
 
 rounding  him,  which  his  enemies  saw  not; 
 so  the  eyes  of  the  Christian's  faith  see  the 
 glorious  things  of  God,  which  the  unbe- 
 lieving world  ignore  and  despite. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 Faith  is  a  certain  image  of  eternity ;  all 
 things  are  present  to  it;  things  past  and 
 things  to  come  are  all  so  before  the  eyes 
 of  faith,  that  he  in  whose  eyes  that  candle 
 is  enkindled,  beholds  heaven  as  present, 
 and  sees  how  blessed  a  thing  it  is  to  die  in 
 God's  favour,  and  to  be  chimed  to  our 
 grave  with  the  music  of  a  good  conscience. 
 Faith  converses  with  the  angels,  and  ante- 
 dates the  hymns  of  glory  ;  every  man  that 
 hath  this  gi-ace  is  as  certain  that  there  are 
 glories  for  him,  if  he  persevere  in  duty,  as 
 if  he  had  heard  and  sung  the  thanksgiving 
 song  for  the  blessed  sentence  of  doomsday. 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 FAITH— SimpUcity  of. 
 
 All  men  are  born  with  faith.  Faith  is 
 as  natural  to  a  man  as  grief  or  love,  or 
 anger.  One  of  the  earliest  flowers  that 
 spring  up  in  the  soul — it  smiles  on  a 
 mother  from  her  infant's  cradle ;  and  living 
 on  through  the  rudest  storms  of  life,  it 
 never  dies  till  the  hour  of  death.  On  the 
 face  of  a  child  which  has  been  left  for  a 
 little  time  with  strangers,  and  may  be 
 caressed  with  their  kisses,  and  courted 
 with  their  smiles,  and  fondled,  and  dandled 
 in  their  arms,  I  have  seen  a  cloud  gather- 
 ing and  growing  darker  till  at  length  it 
 burst  in  cries  of  teri'or  and  showers  of  tears. 
 The  mother  returns;  and  when  the  babe 
 holds  out  its  little  arms  to  her,  I  see  in  these 
 arms  the  arms  of  faith ;  and  when,  like  a 
 believer  restored  to  the  bosom  of  his  God, 
 it  is  nestling  in  a  mother's  embrace,  and 
 the  cloud  passes  from  its  brow,  and  its 
 tears  are  changed  into  smiles,  and  its  terror 
 into  calm  serenity,  we  behold  the  principle 
 of  faith  in  play.  This  is  one  of  its  earliest 
 and — so  far  as  nature  is  concerned — one  of 
 its  most  beautiful  developments.  So  natu- 
 ral indeed  is  it  for  us  to  confide,  and  trust, 
 and  believe,  that  a  child  believes  whatever 
 it  is  told,  until  experience  shakes  its  con- 
 fidence in  human  veracity.  Its  eye  is 
 caugiit  by  the  beauty  of  some  flower,  or  it 
 gazes  up  with  wonder  on  the  starry 
 heavens;  with  that  inqnisitiveness  which 
 in  childhood,  active  as  a  bee,  is  ever  on  the 
 wing,  it  is  curious  to  know  who  made 
 them,  and  would  believe  you  if  you  said 
 you  made  them  yourself.  Such  is  the  faith 
 which  nature  gives  it  in  a  father,  that  it 
 never  doubts  his  word.  It  believes  all  he 
 says,  and  is  content  to  believe  where  it  is 
 not  able  to  comprehend.  For  this  as  well 
 as  other  reasons,  our  Saviour  presented 
 in  a  child  the  living  model  of  a  Christian. 
 He  left  Abraham,  the  father  of  the  faithlul. 
 
 to  his  repose  in  heaven;  He  left  Samuel 
 undisturbed,  to  enjoy  the  quiet  rest  of  his 
 grave ;  He  allowed  Moses  and  Elias,  after 
 their  brief  visit,  to  return  to  the  skies,  and 
 wing  their  way  back  to  glory.  For  a 
 pattern  of  faith.  He  took  a  boy  from  his 
 mother's  side,  and  setting  him  up,  in  his 
 gentle,  blushing,  shrinking  modesty,  before 
 the  great  assembly.  He  said,  "  Whosoever 
 shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a 
 little  child,  shall  in  no  wise  enter  therein." 
 Dr.  Outhrle. 
 
 FAITH— Small. 
 
 As  upon  the  retina  of  the  eye,  though 
 so  small  in  itself,  is  pictured  all  the  ob- 
 jects upon  which  it  gazes,  vast  and  nu- 
 merous, as  they  may  be ;  so  upon  the 
 eye  of  faith,  however  small,  are  distinctly 
 portrayed  all  the  things  of  God  upon  which 
 it  may  cast  its  glance. 
 
 Through  the  smallest  hole  made  in  a 
 piece  of  paper  you  can  see  a  great  area  of 
 space  and  things  before  you;  so  through 
 the  least  apertui-e  of  faith  the  soul  may 
 see  broad  and  glorious  revelations  of  the 
 inspiration  of  the  Spirit.  John  Bate. 
 
 FAITH— Supremacy  of. 
 
 When  Samuel  came  to  anoint  one  of  the 
 sons  of  Jesse,  Eliab  was  presented  to  him, 
 and  he  said,  "  Surely  the  Lord's  anointed  is 
 before  him."  He  was  deceived  ;  he  might 
 have  a  goodly  countenance  and  a  high 
 stature ;  but  it  was  not  he.  Then  passed 
 by  Abinadab;  nor  is  this  he.  Then  Sham- 
 mah,  nor  is  this  he.  Then  seven  of  his 
 sons  were  presented :  "  The  Lord  hath 
 chosen  none  of  these."  "  Be  here  all  ? " 
 saith  Samuel.  Jesse  answered,  "No;  the 
 youngest  is  behind,  and  he  keepeth  the 
 sheep."  "Then,"  saith  Samuel,  "send 
 and  fetch  him,  for  we  will  not  sit  down 
 till  he  come."  When  he  was  come,  he 
 "was  ruddy,  and  withal  of  a  beautiful 
 countenance  and  goodly  to  look  on.  And 
 the  Lord  said.  Arise  and  anoint  him,  for 
 this  is  he."  If  we  should  make  such  a 
 quest  for  the  principal  grace ;  temperance 
 is  a  sober  and  matronly  virtue,  but  not 
 she ;  humility  in  the  lowest  is  respected  of 
 the  highest,  but  not  she ;  patience,  a  sweet 
 and  comfortable  virtue,  that  looks  cheer- 
 fully on  troubles,  when  her  breast  is  red 
 with  the  blood  of  sufi'erance,  her  cheeks 
 are  white  with  the  pureness  of  innocency, 
 yet  not  she;  charity  is  a  lovely  virtue, 
 little  innocents  hang  at  her  bi-easts,  angels 
 kiss  her  cheeks :  "  Her  lips  are  like  a 
 thread  of  scarlet,  and  her  speech  is  comely, 
 her  temples  are  like  a  pomegranate  within 
 her  locks ;"  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  call 
 her  blessed,  yet  not  she.  Lastly,  faith  ap- 
 pears, beautified  with  the  robe  of  her 
 Saviour's  righteousness,  adorned  with  the 
 jewels  of  His  grace,  and  shining  in  that 
 
330 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 fairness  wliich  He  crave  her.  Jam  recjina 
 ven'it,  now  comes  the  ijueen  of  graces : 
 this  is  she.  T.  Adams. 
 
 FAITH— Training  the. 
 
 You  must  train  the  Jaith.  Is  that  pos- 
 sible ?  Yes,  I  will  give  you  an  instance. 
 Richard  Cecil  one  day  went  into  a  room 
 where  his  little  girl  was,  bright-eyed  and 
 happy  as  she  could  be.  Somebody  had 
 just  given  her  a  box  of  very  beautiful  beads. 
 The  little  child  ran  to  her  papa  imme- 
 diately to  show  this  little  gift.  "  They  are 
 very  beautiful,  my  child,"  he  saidj  "but 
 now,  my  dear,  throw  them  behind  the  fire." 
 The  little  girl  looked  for  a  moment.  It 
 was  a  great  ti-ial.  "Now  I  shall  not 
 compel  you  to  do  it;  I  leave  it  to  you; 
 but  you  never  knew  papa  ask  you  to  do  a 
 thing  that  was  not  kind  to  you.  I  cannot 
 tell  you  why,  but  if  you  can  trust  me  do 
 so."  It  cost  a  great  effort ;  but  the  little 
 child  began  in  her  own  way  to  think, 
 "Father  has  always  been  kind  to  me;  I 
 suppose  it  is  right,"  and  she  took  the  box, 
 and  with  a  great  effort  threw  it  behind 
 the  fire.  The  father  said  no  more  for 
 some  time.  The  next  day,  however,  he 
 presented  her  with  something  far  more 
 beautiful,  and  which  she  had  long  desired. 
 "  Now,"  said  he  "  my  child,  I  did  this  to 
 teach  you  to  trust  in  that  greater  Father 
 in  heaven.  Many  a  time  in  your  life  He 
 will  require  you  to  give  up  and  to  avoid 
 what  you  cannot  see  the  reasons  for  avoid- 
 ing; but  if  you  trust  that  Father  as  you 
 have  trusted  me,  you  will  always  find  it 
 best."  That  was  training  the  child's  faith. 
 S.  Coley. 
 FAITH— Trial  of. 
 
 There  was  a  British  regiment  once  or- 
 dered to  charge  a  body  of  French  cuii'assiers. 
 The  trumpets  sounded  and  away  they 
 went  boldly  at  them  ;  but  not  to  victory. 
 They  broke  like  a  wave  that  launches  itself 
 against  a  rock.  Tliey  were  sacrificed 
 to  trader's  fraud.  Forged  not  of  truest 
 steel,  but  worthless  metal,  their  swords 
 bent  double  at  the  first  stroke.  What 
 could  human  strength  or  the  most  gallant 
 bravery  do  agaiust  such  odds  ?  They 
 were  slaughtered,  like  sheep  on  the  field. 
 And  ever  since  I  read  tliat  tragedy,  I  have 
 thought  I  would  not  go  to  battle  unless 
 my  sword  were  proved.  I  would  not  go 
 to  sea  with  anchors  that  had  not  been 
 tried.  But  of  all  things  for  a  man's  com- 
 fort and  peace,  what  needs  so  much  to  be 
 proved  as  his  faith — its  truth  and  genuine- 
 ness ?  Any  way,  it  is  a  serious  thing  to 
 face  death,  and  meet  the  King  of  Terrors 
 on  his  own  ground;  but  were  our  faith 
 never  tried  till  we  stood  face  to  face  in  the 
 valley  with  our  last  enemy,  face  to  face 
 with  our  God  at  the  bar  of  judgment,  it 
 
 were  still  more  serious.  With  our  powers 
 of  self-deception,  with  Satan  sitting  at  the 
 sinner's  ear,  saying.  Peace,  peace,  when 
 there  is  none  to  be  found — with  so  many 
 who  have  the  form  of  godliness,  but  aie 
 strangers  to  its  power — the  stoutest  heart 
 might  tremble  for  the  issues.    Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 FAITH— Triumphant. 
 
 Triumphant  Faith ! 
 Who,  from  the  distant  earth,  looks  up  to 
 
 heaven. 
 Seeing  invisibility,  suspending 
 Eternity  upon  the  breath  of  God. 
 She  can  pluck  mountains  from  their  rooted 
 
 thrones. 
 And  hurl  them  into  ocean;  and  from  pain. 
 And  prisons,  and  contempt,  extort  the  paim 
 Of  everlasting  triumph.     She  doth  tread 
 Upon  the  neck  of  pride,  like  the  free  wind 
 On  angry  ocean.     Lo!  with  step  erect 
 She  walks  o'er  whirlpool  waves  and  martyr 
 
 fires. 
 And  depths  of  darkness  and  chaotic  voids ; 
 Dissolving  worlds,  rent  heavens,  and  dying 
 
 suns ; 
 Yea,  and  o'er  paradises  of  earth's  bliss. 
 And  oceans  of  earth's  gold,  and  pyramids 
 And  teiiiples   of  earth's  glory;   all  these 
 
 pave 
 Her  conquei-ing  path  to  heaven — all  these 
 
 slie  spurns 
 With  feet  fire-shod,  because  her  hand  is 
 
 placed 
 Immoveably  in  God's ;  her  eye  doth  rest 
 Unchangeably  on  His;  nor  will  she  stop 
 Till,  having  cross'd  the  stormy  waves  of  pain 
 And  fiery  trial,  she  may  lay  her  head 
 Upon  her  Father's  breast  and  take  the  crown 
 From  love's  rejoicing  hand.    Miss  Tatham. 
 
 FAITH— Unreal. 
 
 When  a  breeze  blows  on  a  bed  of  grow- 
 ing willows,  all  heads  bend  gracefully ;  not 
 one  resists.  But  it  costs  the  willows  no- 
 thing to  yield ;  and  when  the  wind  changes 
 you  may  see  them  all  pointing  the  other 
 way.  Behold  the  picture  of  smooth,  hollow, 
 unreal  faith  !  Aruot. 
 
 FAITH— Unwavering. 
 
 y*lio,  dying,  would  go  to  glory,  who 
 would  be  redeemed  from  sin  and  hell,  who 
 would  secure  a  saving  interest  in  Christ, 
 who  would  have  strength  to  endure  trial, 
 and  stand  its  buft'etings  as  a  rock  stands 
 the  blows  of  waves,  must  have  his  heai  t 
 steadily,  resolutely,  firmly  fixed  on  Divine 
 things.  "No  man  having  put  his  hand  to 
 the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the 
 kingdom  of  heaven."  Pray  for  unwaver- 
 ing faith,  a  strong — as  Jabez  Bunting,  when 
 dying,  said — an  obstinate  faith  in  God. 
 Seek  such  faith  as  not  only  lays  hold  of 
 Him,  but  holds  Him  and  won't  let  Him  go ; 
 that  has   the  grasp  of  a  drowning  man. 
 
FAITH— FAITH  AlTD  HOPE. 
 
 331 
 
 Seek  a  faith  greater  tlinn  Joshua's,  when, 
 layuig  his  haud  on  the  sun,  he  held  it  hack 
 from  going  on ;  a  faith  Uke  Jacob's,  who, 
 strange  as  it  seems,  held  God  ft-om  going 
 away,  as,  endowed  with  superhuman 
 energy,  he  wrestled  the  night  through 
 with  an  angel,  and,  the  stronger  of  the 
 two,  prevailed,  replying  to  tlie  prayer,  "  Let 
 me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh ;"  "I  will  not 
 let  thee  go,  unless  thou  bless  me." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 FAITH— Venture  of. 
 
 Faith  is  nothing  else  but  the  soul's  ven- 
 ture. It  ventures  to  Christ,  in  opposition 
 to  all  legal  terrors.  It  ventures  on  Christ 
 in  opposition  to  our  guiltiness.  It  ventures 
 for  Christ,  in  opposition  to  all  difficulties 
 and  discouragements.  W.  Bridge. 
 
 FAITH— Victories  of. 
 
 The  undertakmgs  of  Alexander,  of  Han- 
 nibal, of  Caesar,  did  not  signify  valour  like 
 to  this;  their  achievements  were  but  toys 
 in  comparison  to  these  ;  those  famous  gal- 
 lants would  have  found  it  infinitely  harder 
 to  conquer  the  world  in  this  way ;  to  have 
 subdued  their  lusts,  and  mastered  tlieir 
 pa.^sions,  would  have  proved  far  more 
 flifficult  than  to  get  advantage  in  seuiiles 
 with  armed  men  ;  to  discomfort  legions  of 
 devils,  would  have  been  to  them  another 
 kind  of  work,  than  was  the  vanquishing 
 scjuadrons  of  Persians,  of  Gauls,  of  Romans; 
 to  have  set  upon  their  own  ambition  and 
 vanity,  their  intemperance,  their  revenge; 
 to  have  quelled  those  inward  enemies ;  to 
 hiive  sustained  affronts,  disgraces,  aiflic- 
 tions,  with  a  calm  and  contented  mind, 
 would  have  more  tried  their  courage,  than 
 all  which  they  attempted.        Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 FAITH— Weak. 
 
 Even  in  a  spnrk  there  is  fire.  Only  try 
 it,  lay  suitable  fuel  on  it,  and  see  whether 
 it  will  not  kindle  the  heap,  and  burst  into 
 a  flame.  Faith,  though  it  may  be  weak,  is 
 nevertheless  faith.  Faith  is  not  always  a 
 glowing  torch ;  it  is  sometimes  a  glim- 
 mering taper.  The  taper  gives  light,  as 
 well  as  the  torch,  but  not  so  brisrhtlv. 
 
 S.  iHilUer. 
 
 Faith  is  the  eye  hy  which  we  look  to 
 Jesus.  A  dim-sighted  eye  is  still  an  eye ; 
 a  weeping  eye  is  still  an  eye. 
 
 Faith  is  the  hand  with  which  we  lay  hold 
 of  Jesus.  A  trembling  hand  is  still  a  hand. 
 And  he  is  a  believer,  whose  heart  within 
 him  trembles  when  he  touches  the  hem  of 
 the  Saviour's  garment,  that  he  may  be 
 healed. 
 
 Faith  is  the  tongue  hy  lohich  we  taste 
 hoiv  good  the  Lord  is.  A  feverish  tongue 
 is  nevertheless  a  tongue.  And  even  then 
 we  may  believe,  when  we  are  without  the 
 
 smallest  portion  of  comfort ;  for  onr  faith 
 is  founded,  not  upon  feehngs,  but  upon  tlie 
 promises  of  God. 
 
 Faith  is  the  foot  by  which  tve  go  to  Jesus. 
 A  lame  foot  is  still  a  foot.  He  who  comes 
 slowly,  nevertheless  comes.  Ibid. 
 
 FAITH  AND  CEEED. 
 
 Faith  denotes  either  the  principle  of 
 trusting,  or  the  thing  trusted.  Creed, 
 from  the  Latin  credo,  to  believe,  denotes 
 the  thing  believed.  These  words  are 
 synonymous  when  taken  for  the  thing 
 trusted  in  or  believed ;  but  they  difi'er  in 
 this,  that  faith  has  always  a  reference  to 
 the  principle  in  the  mind ;  creed  only 
 respects  the  thing  which  is  the  object  of 
 faith :  the  former  is  likewise  taken  gene- 
 rally and  indefinitel\%  the  latter  particu- 
 larly and  definitely,  signifying  a  set  form; 
 hence  we  say  to  be  of  the  same  faith,  or  to 
 adopt  the  same  creed.  The  holy  martyrs 
 died  for  the  faith  as  it  is  in  Jesus  Christ; 
 every  established  form  of  religion  will 
 have  its  peculiar  creed.  The  Church  of 
 England  has  adopted  that  creed  which  it 
 considers  as  containing  the  purest  princi- 
 ples of  Christian /«/^/t.  G.  Cralb. 
 
 FAITH  AND  HOPE. 
 
 Faith  and  hope,  though  distinct,  are 
 vitally  united.  They  come  from  the  same 
 source,  are  sustained  by  the  same  evidence, 
 and  are  exercised  on  the  same  realities. 
 Faith  is  the  perceiving,  hope  the  anticipa- 
 ting, faculty.  Faith,  looking  throutrh  the 
 glass  of  God's  Word,  says  to  the  spirit,  "  I 
 see  heaven  opened,  and  your  Saviour,  en- 
 thi'oned  amidst  its  central  splendour." 
 Hope  says  to  it,  you  are  on  your  way  to 
 tliat  glorious  world ;  you  will  soon  be 
 there,  for  where  He  is  you  must  be." 
 Faith  cometh  by  hearing;  hope,  by  experi- 
 ence. Faith  hath  respect  to  the  truth  of 
 the  Word;  hope,  to  its  fulfilment.  Faith 
 lays  hold  of  that  end  of  the  promise  which 
 is  nearest  to  us,  even  in  the  Divine  Book ; 
 hope,  of  that  end  of  the  promise  wliich  is 
 fastened  to  the  mercy  seat  within  the  veil. 
 Faith  fights  for  doctrine;  hope,  for  reward. 
 Faith  is  founded  on  what  is  in  the  Bible; 
 hope,  on  what  is  in  heaven.      C.  Stanford. 
 
 Faith  always  goes  before,  hope  follows 
 after,  and  may  in  some  sort  be  said  to  be  the 
 daughter  of  faith.  For  it  is  as  impossible 
 for  a  man  to  hope  for  that  which  he  believes 
 not,  as  for  a  painter  to  draw  a  picture  in 
 the  air. 
 
 Faith  is  the  Christian's  logic ;  hope  his 
 rhetoric.  Faith  perceives  what  is  to  be 
 done,  hope  gives  alacrity  to  the  doing  it. 
 Faith  guides,  adviseth,  rectifieth ;  liope 
 courageously  en-couiiters  with  all  adver- 
 saries. Therefore  faith  is  compared  to  a 
 doctor  iu  the  schools ;  hope  to  a  captain  in 
 
332 
 
 FAITH,  HOPE,  A2TD  CHAEITY— FAITH,  REASON,  AND  SENSE. 
 
 the  wars.  Faith  discerns  the  truth  ;  hope 
 fights  against  im])atience,  heaviness  of 
 spirit,  infirmity,  dejectedness,  desperation. 
 Faith  looks  to  tlie  word  of  a  thing ;  hope 
 to  the  thing  of  the  word.  So  that  faith 
 hath  for  its  object  tlie  truth  of  God;  hope, 
 the  goodness  of  God.  Faith  is  of  things 
 both  good  and  bad;  hope  of  good  things 
 only.  A  man  believes  there  is  a  hell  as 
 truly  as  he  believes  there  is  a  heaven ;  but 
 he  fears  the  one,  and  hopes  only  for  the 
 other.  Faith  hath  for  its  olyect  things  past, 
 ]r,sent,  and  future.  Hope  only  respects 
 and  expects  things  to  come.  T.  Adams. 
 
 FAITH,  HOPE,  AND  CHARITY. 
 
 These  three  Divine  graces  are  a  created 
 trinity,  and  have  some  glimmering  resem- 
 blance of  the  Trinity  uncreate.  For  as 
 there  the  Son  is  begotten  of  the  Father, 
 and  the  Holy  Ghost  proceeds  from  them 
 both ;  so  here  a  true  faith  begets  a  con- 
 stant hope,  and  from  them  proceeds  charity. 
 "  Thus  is  God's  temple  built  in  our  hearts," 
 saith  Augustine,  "the  foundation  whereof 
 is  faith;  hope,  the  erection  of  the  walls; 
 charity  the  perfection  of  the  roof." 
 
 In  the  godly,  all  these  three  are  united 
 together,  and  cannot  be  sundered.  We 
 believe  in  God's  mercy,  we  hope  for  His 
 mercy,  and  we  love  Him  for  His  mercy. 
 Faith  says  there  are  good  things  prepared ; 
 hope  says,  they  are  prepared  for  me ; 
 charity  says,  I  endeavour  to  walk  worthy 
 of  them.  So  that,  what  good  faith  believes 
 shall  be,  hope  expects  for  herself,  and 
 charity  aims  at  the  way  to  get  it,  by 
 "  keeping  the  commandments."  Hid. 
 
 Faith,  hope,  and  charity— these  three. 
 Yet  is  the  greatest — charity ; 
 Father  of  light !  these  gifts  impart 
 To  mine  and  every  human  heart. 
 
 Faith,  that  in  prayer  can  never  fail ; 
 Hope,  that  o'er  doubting  must  prevail; 
 And  charity,  whose  name  above 
 Is  God's  own  name — for  God  is  love. 
 
 The  morning  star  is  lost  in  light ; 
 Faith  vanishes  at  perfect  sight ; 
 The  rainbow  passes  with  the  storm. 
 And  hope  with  sorrow's  fading  form  j 
 
 But  charity,  serene,  sublime. 
 Unlimited  by  death  or  time. 
 Like  the  blue  sky's  all-bounding  space, 
 Holds  heaven  and  earth  in  one  embrace. 
 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 
 FAITH  AND  OBEDIENCE. 
 
 The  Word  of  God  presents  to  us  two 
 grand  aspects,  one  of  command  and  the 
 other  of  promise.  Faith  trusts  implicitly 
 in  both.  Faith  obeys  the  one  a"d  accepts 
 the  other.  In  the  commandments  God 
 reveals  himself  as  a  requiring  God — in  the 
 
 promises  as  a  giving  God.  FaitK  relies 
 upou  Him  in  both  His  commandments  and 
 His  promises — yielding  implicit  obedience 
 to  the  one,  and  putting  forth  the  hand  of 
 assured  confidence  to  take  the  other. 
 
 Now,  that  faith  is  not  properly  faith  at 
 all,  which  accepts  the  one  and  rejects  or 
 neglects  the  other. 
 
 God  demands  of  us  heart  and  life  wholly 
 given  up  and  consecrated  to  Him,  and  true 
 faith  responds,  "Yes,  Lord,  Thou  shalt 
 have  all.  All  I  have  and  all  I  am  are 
 thine." 
 
 God  gives  us  His  Son  to  be  our  Saviour, 
 and  true  faith  takes  Him  at  once  and  for 
 all  in  all,  and  is  satisfied,  saying : 
 
 "  Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want. 
 More  than  all  in  Thee  I  find." 
 
 He  who  gives  all  and  takes  all  has  all. 
 He  who  gives  but  does  not  take,  or  takes 
 but  does  not  give,  has  nothing  but  disap- 
 pointment and  sorrow.      W.  E.  Boardtnan. 
 
 FAITH  AND  REASON. 
 
 True  faith  and  reason  are  the  soul's  two 
 
 eyes ; 
 Faith  evermore  looks  upwards  and  descrie3 
 Objects  remote;  but  reason  can  discover 
 Things    only    near — sees    nothing    that's 
 
 above  her ; 
 They  are  not  matches — often  disagree, 
 And  sometimes  both  are  clos'd  and  neither 
 
 see,  Quarles. 
 
 FAITH,  REASON,  AND  SENSE. 
 
 There  are  three  principles  by  which  we 
 apprehend  things — Sense,  Reason,  and 
 Faith :  these  lights  have  their  different 
 objects  that  must  not  be  confounded.  Sense 
 is  confined  to  things  material :  Reason 
 considers  things  abstracted  from  matter: 
 Faith  regards  the  mysteries  revealed  from 
 heaven;  and  these  must  not  transgress 
 their  order.  Sense  is  an  incompetent 
 judge  of  things  about  which  Reason  only 
 is  conversant.  It  can  only  make  a  report 
 of  those  objects  which  by  their  natural 
 characters  are  exposed  to  it.  And  Reason 
 can  only  discourse  of  things  within  its 
 sphere  ;  supernatural  things,  which  we  de- 
 rive from  revelation,  and  are  purely  the 
 objects  of  Faith,  are  not  within  its  terri- 
 tories and  jurisdiction.  Those  superlative 
 mysteries  exceed  all  our  intellectual  abili- 
 ties. Bates. 
 
 You  know,  beloved,  the  Scripture  hath 
 laid  a  flat  opposition  between  faith  and 
 sense,  "  We  live  by  faith,"  says  the  apos- 
 tle, "  and  not  by  sight,  or  by  sense."  They 
 are  two  buckets — the  life  of  faith,  and  the 
 life  of  sense ;  when  one  goes  up,  the  other 
 goes  down :  the  higher  faith  rises,  the 
 lower  sense  and  reason ;  the  higher  sense 
 and  reason,  the  lower  faith.       JF.  Bridge. 
 
FAITH  AND  SALVATION— FAITH  AND  -WOEKS. 
 
 FAITH  AND  SALVATION. 
 
 God  has  linked  faith  and  salvation 
 together  by  moi-e  than  "hooks  of  steel," 
 even  by  His  unchangeable  deciee.  No  de- 
 crees of  God  are  more  certain  than  these ; 
 "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved  ;  and  he 
 that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned."  He 
 that  believeth  is  passed  already  from  death 
 to  life,  while  he  that  believeth  not  is  con- 
 demned already.  Dr.  Hoge. 
 
 FAITH  AND  SIGHT. 
 
 By  constant  sight,  the  effect  of  objects 
 seen  grows  less;  by  constant  faith,  the 
 effect  of  objects  believed  in  grows  greater. 
 The  probable  reason  of  this  is,  that  personal 
 observation  does  not  admit  of  the  influence 
 of  the  imagination  in  impressing  the  fact ; 
 while  unseen  objects,  realised  by  faith,  have 
 the  auxiliary  aid  of  the  imagination,  not  to 
 exaggerate  them,  but  to  clothe  them  with 
 living  colours,  and  impress  them  upon  the 
 heart.  Whether  this  be  the  reason  or 
 not,  the  fact  is  true,  that  the  more  fre- 
 quently we  see  the  less  we  feel  the  power 
 of  an  object ;  while  the  more  frequently  we 
 dwell  upon  an  object  by  faith,  the  more  we 
 feel  its  power.  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 FAITH  AND  WORKS. 
 
 Faith  and  woi-ks  are  as  necessary  to  our 
 spiritual  life  as  Christians,  as  soul  and 
 body  are  to  our  natural  life  as  men ;  for 
 faith  is  the  soul  of  religion,  and  works  the 
 body.  C.  Colton. 
 
 Therefore  love  and  believe,  for  works  will 
 
 follow  spontaneous. 
 Even  as  the  day  the  sun ;    the  right  from 
 
 the  good  is  an  offspring, 
 Love    is   a    bodily    shape;    and    Christian 
 
 works  are  no  more  than 
 Animate  faith  and  love,  as  flowers  are  the 
 
 animate  spring-tide.  Longfellow. 
 
 The  second  chapter  of  the  epistle  by 
 James  seems,  to  my  mind,  to  describe  a 
 spiritual  wedding.  We  are  "  bidden  to  a 
 marriage."  And  as  at  the  older  marriage 
 in  Cana  of  Galilee,  the  Holy  Master  is  pre- 
 sent, and  consummates  the  nuptials.  The 
 parties  to  be  united  are  but  symbolic  per- 
 sonages, and  yet  are  real  and  life-like  too. 
 The  bride  is  young  and  beautiful — ^ever 
 young,  and  ever  clothed  upon  with  light 
 as  with  a  garment.  Like  Milton's  Eve,  she 
 was — 
 "  For  softness  formed,  and  sweet  attractive 
 
 grace." 
 Her  face  is  clear  as  the  day — her  look  is 
 firm,  and  yet  trustful.  She  is  not  of  the 
 earth,  but  heaven-born,  and  wears  her 
 celestial  parentage  in  every  lineament  of 
 her  radiant  countenance.  Her  name  is 
 Faith.     She  is  the  daughter  of  God. 
 
 And  beside  her  stands  one  whose  lusty 
 form  was  made  for  deeds  of  daring  and 
 endurance.  He  is  sinewy  and  athletic. 
 There  is  valour  in  his  eye,  and  "  cunning 
 in  his  ten  fingers,"  and  strength  in  his 
 right  arm.  He  was  created  to  act,  to  do, 
 to  suffer.  He  was  formed  for  strife  and 
 struggle.     His  name  is  Action. 
 
 With  solemn  rites  the  two  are  joined  in 
 wedlock.  They  are  both  to  love  and  both 
 to  obey.  They  are  always  to  live,  and  move, 
 and  suffer,  and  conquer  together.  They 
 are  to  be  the  fruitful  parents  of  everything 
 good  on  earth.  On  them,  while  united, 
 .Tehovah  pronounces  a  "blessing"  richer 
 than  that  which  gladdened  the  nuptials  of 
 Isaac  and  Rebekah,  or  of  Jacob  and  Leah. 
 While  united,  they  are  to  live,  and  grow, 
 and  conquer.  When  separated,  they  are 
 to  droop  and  perish.  For  each  other,  and 
 in  each  other,  and  with  each  other,  their 
 days  of  struggle  and  victory  are  to  be 
 passed,  until  time  shall  be  no  longer.  And 
 so  Faith  and  Works  were  coupled  by  In- 
 finite Wisdom,  and  in  the  presence  of  the 
 world  it  was  solemnly  announced,  "  What 
 God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put 
 asunder." 
 
 From  that  union  have  sprung  up  a 
 glorious  progeny.  All  the  mighty  deeds 
 which  have  ennobled  and  elevated  humanity 
 own  that  parentage.  Faith  and  Action 
 have  been  the  source,  under  God,  of  every- 
 thing good,  and  great,  and  enduring,  in 
 the  Church  of  Christ;  the  very  Church 
 itself  exists  through  them.  the  early 
 apostles  went  out  with  their  glad  evangel 
 to  the  nations  under  this  double  impulse, 
 and  with  this  double  watchword.  It  was 
 not  enough  to  "believe  my  Gospel;"  they 
 were  also  to  "  preach  my  Gospel."  It  was 
 not  enough  to  love  in  the  heart ;  the  whole 
 life  was  to  be  an  embodiment  and  outflow, 
 of  love.  It  was  not  enough  to  have  a  meek 
 and  gentle  spirit ;  the  young  Church  was 
 to  return  good  for  evil,  and  thus  overcome 
 evil  with  good.  The  Church  was  not  only 
 to  be  sound  in  heart,  but  active  in  limb 
 and  sinew  also.  It  was  to  be  a  militant 
 Church,  contending  earnestly  for  the  faith 
 delivered  to  the  saints;  a  courageous 
 Church,  standing  fast  for  the  Gospel;  a 
 suppliant  Church,  praying  without  ceasing ; 
 a  busy  Church,  redeem,ing  the  time-;  a 
 patient  Church,  bearing  with  all  long-suf- 
 fering ;  and  a  conqueriug  Church,  to  evan- 
 gelise all  nations.  Its  model  men  were 
 men  of  fiiith  and  action.  Though  that 
 apostolic  Iliad,  the  great  apostle  seems  to 
 fly  like  a  thunder -bolt,  kindling,  and  con- 
 suming !  He  is  all  a-blaze  with  zeal.  At 
 Lystra  rebuking  the  deluded  worshippers 
 —at  Jerusalem  confronting  the  Pharisees 
 and  the  rulers  on  the  castle-stairs — at 
 CiEsarea  startling  Agrippa  on  his  tribunal 
 — at  Rome  preaching  the  reviled  Gospel, 
 
334 
 
 FAITH  AND  "WORKS— FAITH  V/ITHOUT  WOEKS. 
 
 both  in  his  "own  liired  house"  and  in 
 Caesar's  palace — lie  is  everywhere  the  be- 
 liever in  full  action,  with  the  heart  to  feel 
 and  the  hand  to  do.  And  such  have  been 
 God's  true  evangelists  ever  since.  Such 
 was  Luther,  the  flaming  Iconoclast  of 
 Europe — to-day  writing  theses  and  com- 
 mentaries, and  to-morrow  translating  the 
 Scriptures,  or  hurling  fresh  invective 
 against  the  black  domination  of  the  Man 
 of  Sin.  Such  were  Baxter,  the  indefati- 
 gable pastor ;  Edwards,  the  perjietual 
 thinker  ;  Neander,  the  perj^etual  student ; 
 Owen,  the  perpetual  writer  ;  Knox,  the  un- 
 tiring reformer;  Whitfield,  the  untiring 
 preacher;  and  Chalmers,  who  appears  to 
 have  been  pastor,  preacher,  writer,  thinker, 
 and  reformer,  all  in  one.  Brethren,  such 
 may  God  honour  us  in  being.  A  faith 
 sound  as  that  of  the  Westminster  Assem- 
 bly will  not  save  the  dying  world  around 
 us  unless  it  flows  out  into  action.  For 
 *'  wilt  thou  know,  O  man  !"  and  all  men 
 in  all  God's  heritage,  that  "  as  the  body 
 without  the  spirit  is  dead,  so  faith  without 
 works  is  dead  also."  T.  Cuyler. 
 
 Two  gentlemen  were  one  day  crossing 
 the  river  in  a  ferry-boat.  A  dispute  about 
 faith  and  works  arose  ;  one  saying  that 
 good  works  were  of  small  importance,  and 
 that  faith  was  everything ;  the  other 
 asserting  the  contrary.  Not  being  able  to 
 convince  each  other,  the  ferry-man,  an 
 enlightened  Christian,  asked  permission  to 
 give  his  opinion.  Consent  being  granted, 
 he  said,  "  I  hold  in  my  hands  two  oars. 
 That  in  my  right  hand  I  call  '  faith  ;'  the 
 other,  in  my  left,  '  works.'  Now,  gentle- 
 men, please  to  observe,  I  pull  the  oar  of 
 faith,  and  pull  that  alone.  See  !  the  boat 
 goes  round  and  round,  and  the  boat  makes 
 no  progress.  I  do  the  same  with  the  oar 
 of  works,  and  with  a  precisely  similar  re- 
 sult,— no  advance.  Mark  !  I  pull  both 
 together,  we  go  on  apace,  and  in  a  very 
 few  minutes  we  shall  be  at  our  landing- 
 place.  So,  in  my  humble  opinion,"  he 
 added,  "  faith  •  without  works,  or  works 
 without  faith,  will  not  suffice.  Let  there 
 be  both,  and  the  haven  of  eternal  rest  is 
 sure  to  be  reached." 
 
 As  the  flower  is  before  the  fruit,  so  is 
 faith  before  good  works. 
 
 Faith  is  the  parent  of  works,  and  the 
 children  will  bear  a  resemblance  to  the 
 parent. 
 
 It  is  not  enough  that  the  inward  works 
 of  a  clock  are  well  constructed,  and  also 
 the  dial-plate  and  hands;  the  one  must 
 act  on  the  other,  the  works  must  regulate 
 the  movement  of  the  hands. 
 
 Archhislioj)  Whatelt/. 
 
 FAITH  AlTD  WOEKS. 
 
 Lo !  when  the  Boatman  stews  the  flowing 
 
 tide, 
 And  aiius  direct  his  little  boat  to  guide; 
 With  both  oars  working  he  can  headway 
 
 make, 
 And  leave  the  waters  foaming  in  his  wake; 
 But  if  one  oar  within  the  boat  he  lays. 
 In  useless  circles  round  and  round  he  plays. 
 So  Faith  and  Works,  when  both  together 
 
 brought, 
 With  mighty  power,  and  heavenly  life  are 
 
 fraught. 
 To  help  the  Christian  on  his  arduous  road, 
 And  urge  him  forward  on  his  way  to  God : 
 If  Faith  or  Works,  no  matter  which,  he 
 
 drops. 
 Short  of  his  journey's  end  he  surely  stops. 
 Molmes. 
 
 Paul  insisting  on  faith  only,  and  James 
 on  works  also,  stand  not  face  to  face, 
 fighting  against  each  other,  but  back  to 
 back  fighting  opposite  foes ;  they  are  both 
 on  the  same  side,  although  for  the  time 
 they  look  and  strike  in  opposite  directions. 
 Paul's  argument  is  not  truth  at  rest,  ex- 
 hibiting her  countenance  in  full;  but 
 truth  in  conflict  with  the  heresy  of  legalism. 
 In  like  maimer,  the  argument  of  James  in 
 our  text  (James  ii,  26)  gives  not  a  jiortrait 
 in  full ;  but  a  glimpse  of  truth  in  the  act 
 of  doing  battle  with  the  Antinomian  heresy. 
 In  that  combat  you  see  one  side,  and  in 
 this  another,  of  the  same  truth.         ArnoL 
 
 It  is  an  unhappy  division  that  has  been 
 made  between  faith  and  works.  Though 
 in  my  intellect  I  may  divide  them,  just  as 
 in  the  Cf.ndle  I  know  there  is  both  light 
 and  heat ;  but  yet  put  out  the  candle  and 
 they  are  both  gone,  one  remains  not  with- 
 out the  other,  so  it  is  with  faith  and  works. 
 J.  SelUcii. 
 FAITH  WITHOUT  WOEKS. 
 
 Works  without  faith  are  like  a  fish 
 without  water ;  it  wants  the  element  it 
 should  live  in.  A  building  without  a  basis 
 cannot  stand ;  faith  is  the  foundation,  and 
 every  good  action  is  a  stone  laid.     Feltham. 
 
 Faith  without  works  is  like  a  bird 
 without  wings;  though  she  may  hop  with 
 her  companions  on  earth,  yet  she  will 
 never  fly  with  them  to  heaven  ;  but  when 
 both  are  joined  together,  then  doth  the 
 soul  mount  up  to  her  eternal  rest. 
 
 J.  Beaumont, 
 
 Faith  is  the  rock,  while  every  good 
 action  is  as  a  stone  laid  thereon.  As  the 
 foundation  without  the  walls  is  of  slender 
 j'alue,    so   the   building    without   a   basis. 
 
FAITHFUL  AND  TRUSTY— FALL  OF  MAN. 
 
 335 
 
 cannot    stand ;    they    are   so    inseparable 
 that  their  conjunction  makes  them  good. 
 J.  Beaumont, 
 
 FAITHFUL  AND  TKUSTY. 
 
 Faithful  signifies  full  of  faith  or  fidelity; 
 trusty  signifies  tit  or  worthy  to  be.  trusted. 
 Faithful  respects  the  principle  altogether ; 
 it  is  suited  to  all  relations  and  stations, 
 public  and  private;  trusty  includes  not 
 only  the  principle,  but  the  mental  qualifi- 
 cations in  general ;  it  applies  to  those  in 
 whom  particular  trust  is  to  be  placed.  It 
 is  the  part  of  a  Christian  to  be  faithful  to 
 all  his  engagements  ;  it  is  a  particular  ex- 
 cellence in  a  servant  to  be  trusty.  Faith- 
 ful is  applied  in  the  improper  sense  to  an 
 uiicouscious  agent;  trusty  may  be  applied 
 with  equal  propriety  to  things  as  to  per- 
 sons. We  may  speak  of  -a.  faithful  saying, 
 or  'A  faithful  picture;  a  trusty  sword,  or  a 
 trusty  weapon.  Ibid. 
 
 FAITHFULNESS. 
 
 Many  fill  their  life  with  regrets  for 
 being  confined  to  such  a  narrow  sphere  of 
 u-efulness.  If  they  only  wei"e  in  the 
 ministerial  office,  or  had  millions  of  money, 
 they  would  do  so  and  so ;  but  what  can  an 
 ordinary  labourer,  a  poor  Sunday-school 
 teacher,  accomplish  ?  Friend,  be  content 
 to  serve  God  where  He  has  placed  you ; 
 for  there  precisely  you  can  accomplish  the 
 most.  It  is  better  to  make  the  best  of 
 what  you  have,  than  to  fret  and  pout  for 
 what  you  have  not.  The  man  with  one 
 talent  is  never  accountable  for  five.  But 
 for  his  one  he  must  give  as  strict  an 
 account  as  the  other  for  his  five.  It  may 
 require  more  humility  to  husband  one 
 talent  than  five,  and  so  far  as  the  im- 
 piovement  or  misimprovement  of  either  is 
 concerned^  they  are  both  equally  important 
 in  the  sight  of  God.  The  king's  million, 
 and  the  widow's  mite  are  worth  the  same 
 with  the  Eternal.  And,  under  the  direc- 
 tion of  Him  who  multiplied  the  widow's 
 oil  and  the  seven  loaves,  the  widow's  mite 
 can  be  magnified  into  a  million;  and  when 
 He  withholds  a  blessing,  the  million  be- 
 comes a  mite.  According  to  the  arithme- 
 tic of  heaven,  the  servant-girl's  shilling, 
 and  the  anechanic's  crown-piece,  are  worth 
 fully  as  much  as  the  thousands  of  a  mil- 
 lionaire. But  then  the  mite  must  be  given 
 la'ien  with  the  benediction  of  faith.  No 
 gift  is  too  small  for  the  great  and  all- 
 possessing  God  to  receive,  who,  for  our 
 sakes,  became  poor  that  He  might  make  us 
 rich.  But  the  gift  must  be  "  as  God  has 
 prospered  us."  When  Ananias  and  Sap- 
 phira  give  only  one  mite,  God  will  curse 
 them.  The  penitent  and  rich  Zaccheus 
 gave  half  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor  ;  and 
 the  poor  woman  who  had  nought  but  tears 
 with   which  to  bedew   the  Saviour's  feet, 
 
 gave  an  offering  more  precious  than  gifts 
 of  gold. 
 
 What  God  requires  is  faithfulness  to 
 that  which  He  has  entrusted  to  us.  A 
 poor  man  is  responsible  for  the  little  of 
 his  poverty,  and  sins  if  he  withhold  his 
 mite.  The  Church  needs  the  gifts  of  the 
 poor ;  the  gifts  of  the  industrial  and 
 labouring  classes.  She  needs  the  infiuence 
 of  those  who  think  they  have  no  influence. 
 She  needs  the  sympathies  and  prayers  of 
 those  who  can  only  stammer  out  of  their 
 sin-burdened  hearts,  "  God  be  mercil'ul  to 
 me  a  sinner."  The  most  fertile  summer 
 showers  are  composed  of  unpretending 
 little  drops.  Wacer-spouts  are  far  less 
 beneficial  than  the  steady,  soaking,  noise- 
 less rain.  Anon. 
 
 FAITHLESS  AND  UNFAITHFUL. 
 
 Faithless  is  mostly  employed  to  denote 
 a  breach  of  faith  ;  and  unfaithful  to  mark 
 the  want  of  fidelity.  The  former  is  posi- 
 tive ;  the  latter  is  rather  negative,  imply- 
 ing a  deficiency.  A  prince,  a  government, 
 a  people,  or  an  individual,  is  said  to  be 
 faithless ;  a  husband,  a  wife,  a  servant,  or 
 any  individual,  unfaithful.  Meft'us  Tufte- 
 tius,  the  Alban  Dictator,  vf-as  faithless  to 
 the  Roman  people  when  he  withheld  his 
 assistance  in  the  battle,  and  strove  to 
 go  over  to  the  enemy;  a  man  is  unfaithful 
 to  his  employer,  who  sees  him  injured  by 
 others  without  doing  his  utmost  to  ])revent 
 it.  A  woman  is  faithless  to  her  husband  who 
 breaks  the  marriage  vow  ;  she  is  ui faithful 
 to  him  when  she  does  not  discharge  the 
 duties  of  a  wife  to  the  best  of  her  abilities, 
 G.  Crabb. 
 
 TALL  OF  MAN — Consequences  of  the. 
 
 The  world  was  made  for  man  and  mau 
 for  God.  The  upper  link  gave  way,  and 
 all  that  depended  on  it  fell.  Man  rebelled, 
 and  carried  away  from  its  allegiance  a 
 subject  world.  Arnot. 
 
 When  man  sinned,  then,  in  the  language 
 of  our  great  poet,  "all  nature  felt  the 
 wound."  Man  was  as  the  highest  note  in 
 the  scale  of  creation,  and  when  he  descended, 
 through  all  nature  there  followed  a  cor- 
 responding reduction.  It  became  subject 
 to  vanity,  not  willingly,  not  by  an  act  of 
 its  own  will,  but  by  reason  of  him  who  sub- 
 jected the  same,  by  reason,  that  is,  of  man. 
 (Rom.  viii,  20.)  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 The  harp  of  Eden,  alas !  is  broken. 
 Unstrung  and  mute  an  exiled  race  have 
 hung  it  on  the  willows;  and  Ichabod 
 stands  written  now  in  the  furrows  of  man's 
 guilty  foreheiid,  and  on  the  wreck  of  his 
 ruined  estate  Some  things  remain  unaf- 
 fected by  the  blight  of  sin,  as  God  made 
 
TALL  OP  MAN. 
 
 t]i,>m  for  himself;  the  flowers  have  lost 
 ue.ther  their  bloom  nor  fragrance;  the 
 rose  smells  as  sweet  as  it  did  when  bathed 
 in  the  dews  of  paradise ;  and  seas  and  sea- 
 sons, obedient  to  their  original  impulse, 
 roll  on  as  of  old  to  their  Maker's  glory. 
 But  from  man,  alas  !  how  is  the  glory  de- 
 parted !  Look  at  his  body  wlien  the  light 
 of  the  eye  is  quenched,  and  the  counte- 
 nance is  changed,  and  the  noble  form  is 
 festering  in  corruption — mouldering  into 
 the  dust  of  death.  Or,  change  still  more 
 hideous,  look  at  the  soul !  The  spirit  of 
 piety  dead,  the  mind  under  a  dark  eclipse, 
 hatred  to  God  rankling  in  that  once  loving 
 he-art,  it  retains  but  some  vestiges  of  its 
 original  grandeur,  just  enough,  like  the 
 beautiful  tracery  and  noble  arches  of  a 
 ruined  pile,  to  make  us  feel  what  glory 
 once  was  there,  and  now  is  gone. 
 
 Dr.  Ghithrie. 
 
 FALL  OP  MAJT— Creation  under  the. 
 
 Sin  has  to  some  extent  blighted  the 
 beauty  of  creation.  Still,  to  borrow  the 
 words  of  the  Psalmist,  "the  heavens  de- 
 clare the  glory  of  God ;  and  the  firmament 
 showeth  His  handywork.  Day  unto  day 
 uttereth  speech,  and  night  unto  night 
 showeth  knowledge.  There  is  no  speech 
 nor  language  where  their  voice  is  not 
 heard.  Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all 
 the  earth  and  their  words  to  the  end  of 
 the  world."  Nor  is  it  distance  that  here 
 lends  enchantment  to  the  view.  On  the 
 contrary,  the  more  closely  the  works  of 
 God  are  examined,  the  higher  our  admira- 
 tion rises,  and  the  less  we  fear  true  science 
 will  ever  appear  as  the  antagonist,  and  not 
 the  ally  of  faith.  Whether  we  turn  the 
 telescope  on  heavens  studded  so  full  of 
 stars  as  to  prevent  the  appeai-ance  of  gold- 
 dust  scattered  with  lavish  hand  on  a  dark- 
 purple  ground — or  turn  the  microscope  on 
 such  comparatively  humble  objects  as  a 
 plant  of  moss,  a  drop  of  ditch-water,  the 
 scaly  armour  of  a  beetle,  a  spider's  eye, 
 the  down  of  a  feather,  or  the  dust  on  a 
 butterfly's  wing,  such  Divine  beauty,  wis- 
 dom, and  glory,  burst  into  view,  that  child- 
 hood's roving  mind  is  instantly  arrested, 
 the  dullest  are  moved  to  wonder,  the  most 
 grovelling  souls  take  wing  and  rise  up  to 
 God.  He  rushes,  indeed,  into  our  souls  by 
 the  open  portal  of  every  sense.  We  see  a 
 Divine  glory  in  worms,  and  unapproach- 
 able excellence  in  the  Almighty's  lowest 
 works.  And  in  the  grand  roar  of  the 
 storm,  the  everlasting  boom  of  ocean 
 breakers,  the  sudden  crash  and  far-rolling 
 peals  of  thunder,  the  soft  murmuring  of 
 gentle  brooks,  the  gleesome  melody  of 
 budding  woods,  the  thrilling  music  of  the 
 lark,  as,  like  a  parting  spirit,  she  spurns 
 the  earth  and  wings  her  flight  to  heaven, 
 nature  echoes    the  close  of   the  angels' 
 
 hymn.     The  whole   earth   is   fall   of  His 
 glory.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 FALL  OF  MAN— Depth  of  the. 
 
 The  brute,  as  a  rule,  does  nothing  con- 
 trary to  its  instinct,  beneath  its  place  in 
 creation,  and  derogatory  to  its  character, 
 unless  it  may  have  been  trained  to  it  by 
 his  lord ;  but  man,  alas,  goes  far,  far  below 
 himself,  below  his  reason,  his  conscience, 
 his  knowledge,  his  relations  in  life,  his 
 position  in  nature ;  below  the  general  cha- 
 racter impressed  upon  him  by  the  hand 
 of  his  Maker.  What  are  lying,  unclean- 
 ness,  theft,  drunkenness,  murder,  deception, 
 &c.,  &c.,  but  against  himself,  and  belovj 
 himself?  Will  you  find  anything  ana- 
 logous to  these  in  the  brute,  showing  that 
 it  is  fallen  as  much  below  itself,  as  man  as 
 fallen  below  it,  and  below  himself  too  ? 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
 FALL  OF  MAN— Universal. 
 
 Gradually,  from  the  one  family  exiled 
 from  Eden,  yet  still  lingering,  we  may 
 think,  beside  the  waters  of  the  four-fold 
 river,  and  loving  still  to  look  upon  the 
 fost-closed  gates  where  the  flaming  sword 
 waved  in  the  radiant  watcher's  hand,  did 
 the  race  so  marvellously  created,  once  so 
 honoured,  now  so  fallen,  spread  themselves 
 forth  amid  the  untrodden  solitudes  of  the 
 young  earth.  Through  the  depths  of  pri- 
 meval forests,  across  streams  which  no 
 plumb-line  had  ever  fathomed,  over  a 
 thousand  hills  virgin  as  the  heights  where 
 to  this  hour  no  human  foot  hath  ever  trod, 
 they  passed  forth,  those  descendants  of  the 
 first  man.  Generation  succeeded  genera- 
 tion, and  the  masters  of  the  etirth  grew 
 familiar  with  their  abiding  places,  and 
 thronged  cities  arose  amid  once  trackless 
 deserts,  and  human  speech  thrilled  along 
 the  bosom  of  the  great  deep ;  and  yet  in 
 all  that  fast  multiplying  race,  thei'e  was 
 not  one  like  Adam  when  fresh  from  his 
 Maker's  hands,  not  one  man  according  to 
 the  oi-iginal  type  and  idea  of  man.  It 
 was  a  multiplication  of  the  crippled  and 
 deformed,  not  of  the  perfect  nature.  For 
 where  was  the  lordship  over  creation  when 
 man's  bread  had  to  be  wrung  from  the 
 soil  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  and  the 
 wild  beast  turned  again  to  devour;  and 
 where  was  the  fulness  of  knowledge  when 
 they  worshipped  and  honoured  the  creature 
 more  than  the  Creator;  and  where  was 
 the  old  communion  with  God  when  the 
 world,  with  all  its  wisdom,  knew  not  God. 
 No;  the  Divine  image  was  not.  There 
 was  no  reproduction  of  the  first  Adam. 
 Among  all  the  myriads  born  into  the 
 world,  there  was  not  one  perfect  specimen 
 of  the  Creator's  master  work.  All  were 
 radically  ditferent  from  the  creature  whom 
 
FALL  OF  MAIT— FAME. 
 
 337 
 
 the  liord  God,  when  Ke  bad  made,  called 
 by  the  name  "man." 
 
 Tracts  for  the  Christian  Seasons. 
 
 FALL  OF  MAN— Testimony  to  the. 
 
 No  man  that  takes  a  view  of  his  own 
 dark  and  blinded  mind,  his  slow  and  dull 
 9}  prehension,  his  uncertain  staggering 
 judgment,  roving  conjectures,  feeble  and 
 mistaken  reasonings  about  matters  that 
 concern  him  most ;  ill  inclinations,  propeu- 
 sion  to  what  is  unlawful  to  him  and  de- 
 structive, aversion  to  his  truest  interests 
 and  best  good,  irresolution,  drowsy  sloth, 
 exorbitant  and  ravenous  appetites  and  de- 
 sires, impotent  and  self-vexing  passions, 
 — can  think  human  nature,  in  film,  is  in 
 its  primitive  integrity,  and  so  pure  as  when 
 it  first  issued  from  its  high  and  most  pure 
 original.  Kowe. 
 
 FALSEHOOD— Acting. 
 
 Pope  Sixtus,  when  Cardinal,  counter- 
 feited sickness  and  all  the  infirmities  of 
 age  so  well  as  to  deceive  the  whole  con- 
 clave. His  name  was  Montalto;  both 
 parties  supposed  that  he  would  not  live  a 
 year,  and  on  a  division  for  the  vacant  apos- 
 tolic chair,  he  was  elected.  The  moment 
 he  had  won  the  desired  power,  he  threw 
 away  his  crutches,  and  began  to  sing  the 
 Te  Deum  with  a  much  stronger  voice  than 
 his  electors  had  bargained  for;  and  instead 
 of  walking  with  a  tottering  step,  he 
 marched  in  their  presence  with  a  firm  gait 
 and  perfectly  upright.  On  some  one  com- 
 menting on  his  sudden  change,  he  replied. 
 While  I  was  looking  for  the  keys  of  St. 
 Peter,  it  was  necessary  to  stoop,  but  having 
 fuuud  them,  the  case  is  altered. 
 
 E.  L.  Magoon. 
 FALSEHOOD— Avoiding. 
 This,  above  all,  to  thine  own  self  be  true ; 
 And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day. 
 Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 FALSEHOOD— Brevity  of. 
 
 Falsehood,  is  fire  in  stubble;— it  like- 
 wise turns  all  the  light  stuff  around  it  into 
 its  own  substance  for  a  moment,  one 
 crackling,  blazing  moment,  and  then  dies ; 
 find  all  its  contents  are  scattered  in  the 
 wind,  without  place  or  evidence  of  their 
 existence,  as  viewless  as  the  wind  which 
 scatters  them.  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 FALSEHOOD— Gain  of. 
 
 When  Aristotle  was  asked  what  a  man 
 could  gain  by  telling  a  falsehood,  he  re- 
 plied, Never  to  be  credited  when  he  speaks 
 the  truth.  Anon. 
 
 FALSEHOOD— by  Insinuation. 
 
 Often  are  the  most  paluf'ul  wrongs  in- 
 
 flicted through  the  medium  of  covert  in- 
 uendoes  and  malignant  insinuations.  Half 
 of  a  fact  is  a  whole  falsehood.  He  who 
 gives  the  truth  a  false  colouring  by  a  false 
 manner  of  telling  it  is  the  worst  of  liars. 
 Such  was  Doeg  in  his  testimony  against 
 the  j^riests.  He  stated  the  facts  in  the 
 case,  but  gave  them  such  an  artful  inter- 
 pretation as  to  impart  to  them  the  aspect 
 and  influence  of  the  most  flagrant  false- 
 hoods. It  was  through  the  same  mode  of 
 procedure  that  our  Lord  was  condemned. 
 A  perverse  misconstruction  was  given  to 
 His  words,  so  that  what  was  spoken  in 
 loyalty  to  the  highest  truth,  was  trans- 
 formed into  treason  worthy  of  death. 
 
 JH.  L.  Magoon. 
 FALSEHOOD— Shame  of. 
 Let  falsehood  be  a  stranger  to  thy  lips. 
 Shame  on  the  policy  that  first  began 
 To   tamper  with   the    heart,    to   hide    its 
 
 thoughts ! 
 And    doubly    shame    on    that    inglorious 
 
 tongue. 
 That  sold  its  honesty  and  told  a  lie ! 
 
 Savard. 
 FALSEHOOD— in  Teachers. 
 
 The  spirit  of  falsehood  often  insinuates 
 itself  into  those  who  are  appointed  to  be  the 
 messengers  of  truth  only.  For  instance, 
 Ahab  had  clergy  enough  around  him,  such 
 as  they  were.  Four  hundred  prophets 
 were  reserved  from  appearing  at  the  time 
 of  the  challenge  made  by  Elijah.  They 
 are  consulted  by  Ahab,  whose  life  they 
 destroy  by  their  dissembling.  They  care 
 not  so  much  about  what  God  requires,  as 
 what  Ahab  would  have  them  say.  They 
 saw  which  way  the  king's  wishes  inclined, 
 and  they  bend  their  speech  accordingly. 
 "Go  up,  for  the  Lord  shall  deliver  it  into 
 the  hands  of  the  king."  False  teachers 
 are  intent  only  to  please.  A  falsehood 
 which  flatters  for  the  hour  is  preferred  by 
 them  above  a  stern  truth  which  relates  to 
 practical  piety  and  eternal  peace. 
 
 E.  L.  Magoon. 
 FAME— Description  of. 
 Fame,  the  great  ill,  from  small  beginnings 
 
 grows. 
 Swift  from  the  first,   and   every   moment 
 
 brings 
 New  vigour  to  her  flights,  new  pinions  to 
 
 her  wings. 
 Soon  grows  the  pigmy  to  gigantic  size. 
 Her   feet   on  earth,  her   forehead  in  the 
 
 skies. 
 Enrag'd  against  the  gods,  revengeful  earth 
 Produc'd  her  last  of  the  Titanian  birth. 
 Swift  is  her  walk,  more  swift  her  winged 
 
 haste, 
 A  monstrous  phantom,  horrible  and  vast : 
 As  many  plumes  as  raise  her  lofty  flight, 
 So  many  piercing  eyes  enlarge  her  sight 
 
338 
 
 FAME— FAMILY. 
 
 Millions  of  op'ning  mouths  to  Fame  be- 
 long, 
 
 And    ev'ry    mouth    is    furnish'd    with    a 
 tongue ; 
 
 And  round  with  list'ning  ears  the  fi/ing 
 plague  is  hung. 
 
 She  fills  the  peaceful  universe  with  cries ; 
 
 No  slumbers  ever  close  her  wakeful  eyes ; 
 
 By  day  from  lofty  towers  her  head  she 
 shows, 
 
 And  spreads  thro'  trembling  crowds  disas- 
 trous news. 
 
 With  court-informer's  haimts,  and   royal 
 spies. 
 
 Things  done  relates,  not  done  she  feigns, 
 and  mingles  truth  with  lies ; 
 
 Talk  is^her  business,  and  her  chief  delight 
 
 To  tell  of  prodigies,  and  cause  affright. 
 
 Andrew  TooTce. 
 
 FAME— End  of. 
 
 What  is  the  end  of  fame  ?     'Tis  but  to  fill 
 
 A  certain  portion  of  uncertain  paper  : 
 Some  liken  it  to  climbing  up  a  hill. 
 
 Whose  summit,  like  all  hills,  is  lost  in 
 
 vapour. 
 
 For  this  men  write,   speak,  preach,   and 
 
 heroes  kill. 
 
 And  bards  burn   what  they   call    "the 
 
 midnight  taper."  Lord  Byron. 
 
 FAME— Limited. 
 
 When  we  had  smoked  our  pipes  awhile, 
 and  all  the  servants  gone  away,  1  presented 
 a  letter  of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
 It  was  received  in  due  form,  and,  after  a 
 short  explanatory  exordium,  was  read  aloud 
 to  the  patriarch,  first  in  English,  and  then 
 translated  into  Grreek.  "  And  who,"  quoth 
 the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople,  the  su- 
 pieme  head  and  primate  of  the  Greek 
 Church  in  Asia,  "  who  is  the  Archbishop 
 of  Canterbury  ?"  "  What  ?"  said  I,  a  little 
 astonished  at  the  question.  "  Who,"  said 
 he,  "  is  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  ?" 
 "Why,  the  Archlnshop  of  Canterbury." 
 "Archbishop  of  loliat  1"  said  the  Patri- 
 arch.    "  Canterhury,"  said  I.     "  O  !"  said 
 
 FAME- 
 
 i-t-lived. 
 
 the  Patriarch 
 
 ah! 
 
 and  who  is  he  ?" 
 
 Here  all  my  friends  and  myself  were  taken 
 aback  sorely.  Curzon. 
 
 FAME— Posthumous. 
 
 The  noblest  renown  is  posthumous  fame ; 
 and  the  most  refined  ambition  is  the  desire 
 of  such  fame.  A  vulgar  mind  may  thirst 
 for  immediate  popularity ;  and  very  mode- 
 rate talent,  dexterously  managed,  may  win 
 for  the  moment  the  hosannas  of  the  million. 
 But  it  is  a  Horace  or  a  Milton,  a  Socrates 
 or  a  Sidney,  who  can  listen  without  bitter- 
 ness to  plaudits  heaped  on  feebler  rivals, 
 und  calmly  anticipate  the  day  when  pos- 
 terity will  do  justice  to  the  powers  or 
 the  achievements  of  which  he  is  already 
 conscious.  Dr.  J.  JIamilton. 
 
 Where  is  the  fame 
 Which   the  vain-glorious   mighty   of  the 
 
 earth 
 Seek  to  eternise  ?     Oh !  the  faintest  sound 
 From  time's  light  footfall,  the  minutest 
 
 wave 
 That  swells  the  flood  of  ages,  whelms  in 
 
 nothing 
 The  unsubstantial  bubble.     Aye,  to-day 
 Stern  is  the  tyrant's  mandate,  red  the  gaze 
 That  flashes  desolation,  strong  the  arm 
 That    scatters    multitudes.      To-morrow- 
 comes  ! 
 That  mandate  is  a  thunder-peal  that  died 
 In  ages  past ;  that  gaze,  a  transient  flash 
 On  which  the  midnight  closed,  and  on  that 
 
 arm 
 The  worm  has  made  his  meal.  Shelley. 
 
 FAME— an  Undertaker. 
 
 Fame  is  an  undertaker,  that  pays  but 
 little  attention  to  the  living,  but  bedizens 
 the  dead,  furnishes  out  their  funerals,  and 
 follows  them  to  the  grave.  C.  Colton. 
 
 FAMILY— Bible  in  the. 
 
 The  mother  of  a  family  was  married  to 
 an  infidel,  who  made  a  jest  at  religion  in 
 the  presence  of  his  own  children ;  yet  she 
 succeeded  in  bringing  them  all  up  in  the 
 fear  of  the  Lord.  I  one  day  asked  her 
 how  she  preserved  them  from  the  influ- 
 ence of  a  father  whose  sentiments  were 
 so  openly  opposed  to  her  own.  This  was 
 her  answer.  "  Because  to  the  authority  of 
 a  father  I  did  not  oppose  the  authority  of 
 a  mother,  but  that  of  God.  From  their 
 earliest  years  my  children  have  always 
 seen  the  Bible  upon  my  table.  This  holy 
 book  has  constituted  the  whole  of  their 
 religious  instruction.  I  was  silent,  that 
 I  might  allow  it  to  speak.  Did  they  pro- 
 pose a  question  ?  did  they  commit  any 
 fault  ?  did  they  perform  any  good  action  ? 
 I  opened  the  Bible,  and  the  Bible  answered, 
 repi'oved,  or  encouraged  them.  The  con- 
 stant reading  of  the  Scriptures  has  alone 
 wrought  the  prodigy  which  surprises  you." 
 Adolphe  Monod. 
 
 FAMILY— Definition  of  a. 
 
 By  family  we  mean,  not  a  tribe  or  flock 
 of  kindred  dwelling  in  many  houses  as  the 
 word  is  taken  oft  in  Scripture,  but  I  mean 
 a  household.  To  a  complete  family  must 
 ■  go  four  integral  parts.  Pater -familias. 
 Mater  -familias,  Jilius,  servus,  a  father, 
 mother,  son,  and  servants.  But  to  the 
 essence  of  a  family  it  sufficeth  if  there  be 
 but  pars  imperans  and  ^Jff/*  suidita,  or 
 head  or  governor,  either  father,  mother, 
 master  or  mistress,  and  one  or  more  go- 
 verned under  this  head.  Baxter. 
 
lAMILY— FAMILY-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 339 
 
 FAMILY— Discord  in  a. 
 
 The  fire  of  discord  turns  a  house  into  a 
 little  hell,  full  of  the  tormenting  passions. 
 Sorrow  and  Anguish,  Disdain  and  Despite, 
 Malice  and  Envy,  that  blast  the  most 
 flourishing  families.  TV.  Bates. 
 
 FAMILY— Godless, 
 
 A  house  without  a  roof  would  scarcely 
 be  a  more  inditferent  home  than  a  family 
 state  unsheltered  by  God's  friendship  and 
 the  sense  of  being  always  rested  in  His 
 vidential  care  and  guidance.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 FAMILY — Inconsistency  in  the. 
 
 I  have  been  in  his  family,  said  Christian 
 of  Talkative,  and  have  observed  him  both 
 at  home  and  abroad;  and  I  know  what  I 
 say  of  him  is  the  truth.  His  house  is  as 
 empty  of  religion  as  the  white  of  an  egg 
 is  of  savour.  There  is  neither  prayer  nor 
 sign  of  repentance  for  sin ;  yea,  the  brute 
 in  his  kind  serves  God  far  better  than  he. 
 He  is  the  very  stain,  reproach,  and  shame 
 of  religion  to  all  that  know  him ;  it  can 
 hardly  have  a  good  word  in  all  that  end  of 
 the  town  where  he  dwells  through  him. 
 Thus  say  the  common  people  of  him — "  A 
 saint  abroad,  and  a  devil  at  home."  His 
 poor  family  find  it  so.  He  is  such  a  churl ; 
 such  a  railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable  with 
 his  servants  that  they  neither  know  how 
 to  do  for  or  to  speak  to  him.  Men  that 
 have  any  dealings  with  him  say  it  is  better 
 to  deal  with  a  Turk  than  with  him,  for 
 fairer  dealings  they  shall  have  at  his 
 hands.  This  Talkative,  if  it  be  possible, 
 will  go  beyond  them,  defraud,  beguile,  and 
 overreach  them.  Besides,  he  brings  up  his 
 sons  to  follow  his  steps;  and  if  he  finds  in 
 any  of  them  a  "  foolish  timorousness"  (for 
 so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  tender 
 conscience)  he  calls  them  fools  and  block- 
 heads, and  by  no  means  will  employ  them 
 in  much,  or  speak  to  their  commendation 
 before  others.  For  my  part,  I  am  of 
 opinion  that  he  has  by  his  wicked  life 
 caused  many  to  stumble  and  fall ;  and  will 
 be,  if  God  prevents  not,  the  rum  of  many 
 more.  Bunyan. 
 
 FAMILY— Heading  in  the. 
 
 Books  and  periodicals  should  be  angels 
 in  every  household.  They  are  urns  to 
 bring  us  the  golden  fruit  of  thought  and 
 experience  from  other  minds  and  other 
 lands.  As  the  fruit  of  the  trees  of  the 
 earth's  soil  are  most  enjoyed  around  the 
 family  board,  so  should  those  that  mature 
 upon  mental  and  moral  boughs  be  gathered 
 around  by  the  entire  household.  No  home 
 exercise  could  be  more  appropriate  and 
 pleasing  than  for  one  member  to  read 
 aloud  for  the  benefit  of  all.  An  author's 
 ideas  are  energised  by  the  confidence  and 
 love  of  the  tender  family  affections,  aud 
 
 every  heart  is  open  to  the  truth,  like  the 
 unfolded  rose  to  receive  the  gathering 
 dews.  The  lies  of  love  between  parents 
 and  children,  and  brothers  and  sisters,  are 
 thus  cemented  yet  more  and  more,  and 
 varied  charms  and  pleasures  are  constantly 
 open  through  this  medium  to  make  a  home 
 a  very  paradise.  If  parents  would  intro- 
 duce tliis  exercise  in  tlieir  families,  they 
 would  soon  see  the  levity  and  giddiness 
 that  make  up  the  conversation  of  too  many 
 circles  giving  way  to  refinement  and  chaste 
 dignity.  Anon. 
 
 FAMILY— Ungodly. 
 
 Ah,  how  many  families  are  there  whose 
 houses  are  not  the  Church  of  God,  but  the 
 synagogue  of  Satan  rather.  It  is  said  of 
 Noah's  ark,  that  it  was  pitched  within  and 
 without;  such  is  the  condition  of  many  a 
 man's  house  :  it  is  pitclied  within  and 
 without :  nothing  but  the  pollutions  of  sin 
 in  every  room,  and  passage,  and  corner. 
 Idleness  stands  at  the  door;  unconscion- 
 ableness  walks  in  the  shop ;  covetousness 
 lurks  in  the  counting-house;  luxury  sits 
 at  the  table;  pride  looks  out  at  the  win- 
 dow ;  wantonness  lodges  in  the  bed ;  all 
 pitchy  and  filthy  both  within  and  without. 
 Kitchen. 
 
 FAMILY-GOVERNMENT— Defective. 
 
 There  are  many  persons  who  have  heard 
 so  much  of  family-government,  that  they 
 think  there  cannot  be  too  much  of  it. 
 They  imprison  their  children  in  stift"  rooms, 
 where  a  fly  is  a  band  of  music  in  the  empty 
 silence,  and  govern  at  morning,  and  govern 
 at  night,  and  the  child  goes  all  day  long 
 like  the  shuttle  in  the  loom,  back  and  for- 
 ward, hit  at  both  ends.  Children  subjected 
 to  such  treatment  are  apt  to  grow  up  in- 
 fidels, through  mere  disgust. 
 
 B.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 FAMILY-GOVERNMENT— Fannre  of. 
 
 It  is  a  point  very  commonly  overlooked 
 or  forgotten,  that  parental  government  is 
 genuine  only  as  it  bears  rule  for  the  same 
 end  that  God  himself  pui-sues  in  the  reli- 
 gious order  of  the  world.  True  family 
 government  will  be  just  as  religious  as 
 His,  neither  more  nor  less.  It  will  have 
 exactly  the  same  ends,  and  no  other.  Just 
 here,  accordingly,  is  the  main  root  of  mis- 
 chief and  failure  in  the  government  of 
 Christian  fiimilies.  The  parents  are  not 
 Christian  enough  to  think  of  bearing  rule 
 for  strictly  Christian  ends.  They  drop 
 into  a  careless,  irresponsible  way,  and  rule 
 for  anything  that  happens  to  chime  with 
 their  feeling  or  convenience.  They  want 
 their  children  to  shine,  or  be  honorable,  or 
 rich,  or  brave,  or  fashionable;  so  to  serve 
 themselves  in  them,  or  their  pride,  or  their 
 mere  natural  fondness.    They  bring  in  thus 
 
340 
 
 FAMILY-RELlGIOTr-FANATIC. 
 
 bad  motives  to  corrupt  all  government, 
 and  even  tc  corrujit  themselves.  If  they 
 have  some  care  of  piety  in  their  govern- 
 ment, it  is  a  kind  of  amphibious  care, 
 sometimes  in  one  element  and  sometimes 
 in  another.  They  are  never  truly  and 
 heartily  in  God's  ends.  And  the  result  is, 
 that  what  they  do  in  the  name  of  religion, 
 or  to  inculcate  religion,  shows  their  want 
 of  appetite,  and  has  really  no  eftect  but  to 
 make  both  God's  authority  and  theirs  irk- 
 some. Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 FAMILY-RELIGION— Failure  of. 
 
 The  father  prays  in  the  morning  that 
 his  children  may  grow  up  in  the  Lord, 
 and  calls  it  even  the  principal  good  of 
 their  life,  that  they  are  to  be  Christians, 
 living  to  God,  and  for  the  world  to  come. 
 Then  he  goes  out  into  the  field,  or  the 
 shop,  or  the  house  of  trade,  and  delving 
 there  all  day  in  his  gains,  keeps  praying 
 from  morning  to  night,  without  knowing 
 it,  that  his  family  may  be  rich.  His  plans 
 and  works,  faithfully  seconded  by  an  aHec- 
 tionate  wife,  pull  exactly  contrary  to  the 
 pull  of  his  prayers,  and  to  all  their  common 
 teaching  iu  religion.  Their  tempers  are 
 worldly,  and  make  a  worldly  atmosphere 
 in  the  house.  Pride,  the"  ambition  of  show 
 and  social  standing,  envy  to  what  is  above, 
 jealousy  of  what  is  below,  follies  of  dress 
 and  fashion,  and  the  more  foolish  elation 
 felt  when  a  son  is  praised  or  a  daughter 
 admired  in  the  matter  of  personal  appear- 
 ance, or  what  is  no  better,  a  manifest  pre-' 
 paring  and  foretasting  of  this  folly  when 
 the  son  or  daughter  is  so  young  as  to  be 
 the  more  certainly  poisoned  by  the  infec- 
 tion of  it.  O,  these  unspoken,  damning 
 prayers !  how  many  are  they,  and  how 
 totally  do  they  fill  up  the  dnys  !  The 
 mornings  open  with  a  reverent,  fervent- 
 sounding  prayer  of  words,  and  then  the 
 days  come  after  piling  up  petitions  of  ends, 
 aims,  tempers,  passions,  and  works,  that 
 ask  for  anything  and  everything  but  what 
 accords  with  the  genuine  rule  of  religion. 
 The  prayer  of  the  moriiing  is  that  the  son, 
 the  daughter,  all  the  sons,  all  the  daughters, 
 may  be  Christians ;  and  then  the  prayers 
 that  follow  are  for  anything  but  that,  or 
 anything,  in  fiict,  most  contrary  to  that. 
 Is  it  any  wonder,  when  we  consider  this 
 common  disagreement  between  the  prayei-s, 
 even  the  fervent  prayers  of  the  family, 
 and  all  other  concerns,  enjoyments,  and 
 ends  of  the  common  life  beside,  that  so 
 many  fine  shows  of  family  piety  are  yet 
 followed  by  so  much  of  godless  and  even 
 reprobate  character  in  the  children. 
 
 lUd. 
 
 FAMILY-WOESHIP— Manner  of. 
 
 Philip  Henry  was  most  exemplary  in  his 
 practice  of  family  devotion.     Besides  the 
 
 regular  plan  of  reading  and  exponridiug 
 the  Scriptures  morning  and  evening,  he 
 used  strongly  to  recommend  singing,  saying 
 that  it  was  a  way  of  exhibiting  godliness, 
 like  Rahab's  scarlet  thread,  to  such  as  pass 
 by  our  widows.  (Josh,  ii,  18  ;  Ps.  cxviii, 
 15.)  His  children  and  servants  used  to 
 take  notes  of  his  expositions;  and  the 
 foundation  of  Matthew  Henry's  commen- 
 tary was  laid  from  these  notes.  Besides 
 this,  on  Thursday  evening,  instea'd  of 
 reading,  he  used  to  catechise  his  children 
 and  servants  upon  the  Assembly's  Cate- 
 chism, with  the  Proofs,  or  sometimes  in  a 
 smaller  catechism ;  or  else  they  read,  and 
 he  examined  them  in  some  other  useful 
 book,  as  Mr.  Poole's  Dialogues  against  the 
 Papists;  and  on  Saturday  evening  they 
 gave  him  an  account  of  what  they  could 
 remember  of  the  chapters  they  had  read 
 through  during  the  week,  each  a  several 
 part  in  order.  Besides  this,  he  had  also 
 days  of  humiliation  with  his  family.  The 
 consequence  was,  that  in  addition  to  the 
 blessings  resulting  to  his  own  children, 
 many  who  came  to  live  with  them  dated 
 their  first  impressions  from  these  services, 
 and  gave  God  thanks  that  they  ever  came 
 under  his  roof.  Anon. 
 
 FAMILY-WOESHIP— Propriety  of. 
 
 Whoever  reflects  on  the  true  foundation 
 of  social  worship,  must  perceive  that  the 
 arguments  which  evince  its  propriety, 
 apply  to  the  worship  of  families  with  still 
 greater  cogency,  in  proportion  as  the  ties 
 of  domestic  union  are  more  close  and  in- 
 timate than  all  others.  It  is  hardly  pos- 
 sible to  conceive  of  two  individuals,  who 
 are  actuated  by  a  principle  of  true  religion, 
 passing  years  together  under  the  same 
 roof  without  uniting  in  their  addresses  at 
 the  throne  of  grace.  We  feel  a  persuasion 
 that  two  such  individuals,  though  no  wise 
 related  to  each  other,  will  be  led  to  sig- 
 nalise their  union  by  acts  of  social  piely, 
 and  that  as  they  must  often  hold  sweet 
 counsel  together,  so  they  will  frequently 
 be  disposed  to  pour  out  their  united  suppli- 
 cations to  God.  How  much  more  may  this 
 be  expected  to  take  place  betwixt  those 
 who  are  united  in  the  close  relation  of 
 husbands  and  wives,  parents  and  children. 
 M.  EalL 
 FANATIC — Description  of  the. 
 
 The  fanatic,  big  with  pride  and  full  of 
 himself,  rejects  reason,  and  takes  the 
 emotions  of  his  own  passions  for  those  of 
 grace :  and  far  from  conducting  himself 
 with  Christian  modesty  and  love,  he  follows 
 the  reveries  of  his  imaginations  as  if  they 
 were  the  inspirations  of  the  Divine  Spirit: 
 he  imitates  the  follies  of  enthusiastic  fools, 
 and,  if  occasion  ofier,  the  cruelties  of 
 bloody  persecutors.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
FANATIC— JASIlIOSrS. 
 
 341 
 
 F.\NATIC— Unyielding. 
 
 You  may  as  well 
 
 ForLicl  tlie  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
 As,  or  by  oath,  remove,  or  counsel,  sbnke 
 The  fabric-  of  his  folly  ;  whose  foundation 
 Is  piled  upon  his  faith. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 FANATICISTd— Definitioi;s  of. 
 
 F:ii)at:c;sin  is  such  an  overwhelming  im- 
 pressJDU  of  the  ideas  relating  to  the  future 
 world,  as  disqualifies  us  for  the  duties  of 
 life.  -K.  Sail. 
 
 Fanntieism  is  the  child  of  false  zeal  and 
 of  superstition,  the  father  of  intolerance 
 and  of  persecution.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 FAN ATICISI'I— Prevalence  of. 
 
 Fanaticism  is  the  most  likely  to  prevail 
 wLere  the  public  mind  is  brought  under 
 any  powerful  excitement.  But,  far  from 
 real  piety  not  being  found  in  any  sort  of 
 connection  with  enthusiasm,  the  fact  is,  that 
 fanaticism  rarely  enters  except  where  piety 
 abounds.  It  is  the  strong  and  full  habit 
 of  body  which  has  the  strongest  tendency 
 to  fever.  It  is  the  full  river  which  over- 
 flows its  banks.  It  is  the  lofty  genius 
 which  is  commonly  lashed  on  to  madness. 
 J.  W.  Cunningham. 
 
 FANCY— relusions  of. 
 
 Her  fancy  follow'd  him  through  foaming 
 
 waves. 
 To  distant  shores,  and  she  would  sit  and 
 
 weep 
 At  what  a  sailor  sufters.     Fancy,  too. 
 Delusive  most  where  warmest  wishes  are. 
 Would  oft  anticipate  his  glad  return. 
 And  dream  of  transports  she  was  not  to 
 
 know.  Cowjper. 
 
 FANCY— Power  of. 
 
 Most  marvellous  and  enviable  is  that 
 fecundity  of  fancy  which  can  adorn  what- 
 ever it  touches,  which  can  invest  naked 
 fact  and  dry  j-easoning  with  unlooked-for 
 beauty,  make  flowrets  bloom,  even  on  the 
 brow  of  the  precipice,  and,  when  nothing 
 better  can  be  had,  can  turn  the  very  sub- 
 stance of  the  rock  itself  into  moss  and 
 lichens.  This  faculty  is  incomparably  the 
 roost  important  for  the  vivid  and  attractive 
 exhibition  of  truth  to  the  minds  of  men. 
 
 A.  Fuller. 
 FANCY— a  Sanctified. 
 
 We  should  make  our  fancy  serviceable 
 to  us  in  spiritual  things.  And  seeing  God 
 has  condescended  to  represent  heavenly 
 things  to  us  under  earthly  terms,  we  should 
 follow  God's  dealing  herein.  A  sanctified 
 fancy  will  make  every  creature  a  ladder  to 
 heaven.  Sibbes. 
 
 FANCY  AND  IMAGINATION. 
 
 There  is  a  distinction  between  tlie  fancy 
 and  the  imagination  ;  the  former  gives  us 
 airy  shapes,  the  latter  gives  us  likenesses  ; 
 fancy  is  concerned  with  trivial  objects, 
 imagination  with  grand,  spiritual,  eternal 
 things.  In  long-settled  countries,  where 
 multitudes  are  reared  in  coal-pits,  or  con- 
 fined to  ditches,  or  factories,  or  rarely 
 pass  beyond  the  walls  of  their  native  city, 
 or,  if  they  do,  it  is  to  visit  some  thickly- 
 populated  graveyard,  or  some  forsaken 
 castle,  the  fancy  may  be  vigorous  ;  but  m 
 the  forest  of  the  new  world,  there  is  but 
 little  chance  for  hobgoblins  and  ajipari- 
 tions.  Man  walks  abroad  freely  aniid  the 
 works  of  God,  works  in  all  the  wild  mag- 
 nificence of  nature.  He  is  in  the  midst  of 
 broad  plains,  majestic  streams;  on  every 
 hand  he  meets  with  some  object  fitted  to 
 furnish  him  with  elevated  ideas,  ajid  to 
 arouse  into  healthful  and  vigorous  action 
 the  best  powers  of  his  mind;  withal,  he  is 
 not  so  hampered  but  that  he  can  allow  his 
 mind  free  scope  in  depicting  his  own 
 creations.  It  was  under  these  circum- 
 stances that  the  grandest  poetry  of  the 
 world  was  produced.  Bp.  Thomsun. 
 
 FASHIONABLE  PEOPLE. 
 
 There  is  a  set  of  people  whom  I  cannot 
 bear, — the  pinks  of  fashionable  propriety, — 
 whose  every  word  is  precise,  and  whose 
 every  movement  is  unexceptionable;  but 
 who,  though  versed  in  all  the  categories  of 
 polite  behaviour,  have  not  a  particle  of 
 soul  or  cordiality  about  them.  We  allow 
 that  their  manners  may  be  abundantly 
 correct.  There  may  be  elegance  in  every 
 gesture,  and  gracefulness  in  every  position  ; 
 not  a  smile  out  of  place,  and  not  a  step 
 that  would  not  bear  the  measurement  of 
 the  severest  scrutiny.  This  is  all  very  fine ; 
 but  what  I  want  is  the  heart  and  gaiety  of 
 social  intercourse;  the  frankness  that 
 spreads  ease  and  animation  around  it ;  the 
 eye  that  speaks  aiiability  to  all,  that  chases 
 timidity  from  every  bosom,  and  tells  every 
 man  in  the  company  to  be  confident  and 
 happy.  Bp.  Chalmers 
 
 FASHIONS— Excess  of. 
 
 If  God  were  in  love  with  fashions.  He 
 were  never  better  served  than  in  this  age 
 (1600),  for  our  world  is  like  a  pageant, 
 where  every  man's  apparel  is  better  than 
 himself.  Once  Christ  said,  "that  soft 
 clothing  is  in  king's  court's;"  but  now  it 
 is  crept  into  every  house ;  then  the  rich 
 glutton  jetted  in  purple  every  day,  but 
 now  the  poor  untrift  jettes  as  brave  as  the 
 glutton,  with  so  many  circumstances  about 
 him,  that  if  ye  could  see  how  pride  would 
 walk  herself,  if  she  did  wear  apparel,  she 
 would  even  go  like  many  in  the  streets ; 
 
342 
 
 FASHIONS— FASTIHG. 
 
 for  she  could  not  go  braver,  nor  look 
 stouter,  nor  mince  finer,  nor  set  on  more 
 laces,  nor  make  larger  cuts,  nor  carry  more 
 trappings  about  her  than  our  ruffians  and 
 wantons  do  at  this  day.  How  far  are  these 
 fashions  altered  from  those  leather  coats 
 which  God  made  in  paradise  ?  If  their 
 bodies  did  change  forms  as  often  as  their 
 apparel  change  the  fashions,  they  should 
 have  more  shapes  than  they  have  fingers 
 and  toes.  As  Jeroboam's  wife  disguised 
 hfirself,  that  the  prophet  might  not  know 
 her,  so  we  may  think  that  they  disguise 
 themselves  that  God  might  not  know 
 them ;  nay,  they  disguise  their  bodies  so, 
 till  they  know  not  themselves;  for  the 
 servant  goeth  like  his  master,  the  handmaid 
 like  her  mistress,  the  subject  Hke  the 
 prince,  as  though  he  had  forgotten  his 
 calling  and  mistook  himself,  like  a  man  in 
 the  dark,  which  puts  on  another  man's 
 coat  for  his  own,  that  is  too  wide,  or  too 
 wide  for  his  body;  for  their  attires  are  so 
 unfit  for  their  bodies,  so  unmeet  for  their 
 calling,  so  contrary  to  nature,  that  I  can- 
 not call  them  fitter,  than  the  monsters  of 
 apparel.  For  the  giants  were  not  so 
 monstrous  in  nature,  as  their  attires  are  in 
 fashion  ;  that  if  they  could  see  their  apparel 
 but  with  the  ghince  of  a  spiritual  eye,  how 
 monstrous  it  makes  them  (like  apes  and 
 puppets,  and  vices),  they  would  fling  away 
 their  attire,  as  David  flung  away  Saul's 
 armour,  and  be  as  much  ashamed  of  their 
 clothes,  as  Adam  was  of  his  nakedness. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 FASHIONS— leader  of. 
 
 The  mere  leader  of  fashion  has  no  genu- 
 ine claim  to  supremacy  ;  at  least,  no  abiding 
 assurance  of  it.  He  has  embroidered  his 
 title  upon  his  waistcoat,  and  carries  his 
 worth  in  his  watch  chain;  and  if  he  is 
 allowed  any  real  precedence  for  this  it  is 
 almost  a  moral  swindle, — a  way  of  obtaining 
 goods  under  false  pretences.      Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 FASHIONS— Odd. 
 
 These  abounded  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
 III.  We  read  that  at  public  shows,  the 
 ladies  rode  in  party-coloured  tunics,  one 
 half  being  of  one  colour  and  the  other  half 
 of  another,  with  short  hoods  and  liripipes 
 (the  long  tails  of  tippets  of  the  hoods) 
 wrapped  about  their  heads  like  cords. 
 Their  girdles  were  handsomely  ornamented 
 with  gold  and  silver,  and  they  wore  small 
 swords,  "  counnonly  called  daggers,"  before 
 them  in  pouches,  and  thus  habited  they 
 were  mounted  on  the  finest  horses  that 
 could  be  procured,  and  ornamented  with 
 the  richest  furniture.  In  full  dress  the 
 appearance  of  the  ladies  was  as  gorgeous 
 as  it  was  warlike.  In  a  work  by  Pierce 
 Ploughman,  written,  it  is  supposed,  about 
 1350,  the  poet  speaks  of  a  woman  richly 
 
 clothed,  her  garments  pui-plcd,  faced,  or 
 trimmed  with  fine  furs,  her  robes  of  scarlet 
 colour  in  grain,  and  splendidly  adorned  with 
 ribands  of  red  gold,  interspersed  with  pre- 
 cious stones  of  great  value.  Her  head-tie, 
 he  says,  he  has  not  time  to  describe,  but 
 she  wore  a  crown  that  even  the  king  had 
 no  better.  Her  fingers  were  all  embellished 
 with  rings  of  gold,  set  with  diamonds, 
 rubies,  and  sapphires,  and  also  with  oriental 
 stones  or  amulets  to  prevent  any  venomous 
 infection.  Anon. 
 
 FASHIONS— Origin  of. 
 
 An  old  Scotch  preacher  is  reported  to 
 have  said  in  one  of  his  sermons  at  Aber- 
 deen,— "  Ye  people  of  Aberdeen  get  your 
 fashions  from  Glasgow,  and  Glasgow  from 
 Edinburgh,  and  Edinburgh  from  London, 
 and  London  from  Paris,  and  Paris  from  the 
 devil."  John  Bate. 
 
 FASTING— Degrees  of. 
 
 As  to  the  degrees  or  measures  of  fasting, 
 we  have  instances  of  some  who  have  fasted 
 several  days  together.  So  Moses,  Elijah, 
 and  our  blessed  Lord,  being  endued  with 
 supernatural  strength  for  that  purpose,  are 
 recorded  to  have  fasted  without  intermis- 
 sion, "  forty  days  and  forty  nights."  But 
 the  time  of  fasting,  more  frequently  men- 
 tioned in  Scripture,  is  one  day,  from  morn- 
 ing till  evening.  And  this  was  the  fast 
 commonly  observed  among  the  ancient 
 Christians.  But  beside  these,  they  had 
 also  their  half-fasts  (Seraijejunia,  as  Ter- 
 tuUian  styles  them)  on  the  fourth  and 
 sixth  days  of  the  week  (Wednesday  and 
 Friday)  throughout  the  year;  on  which 
 they  took  no  sustenance  till  three  in  the 
 afternoon,  the  time  when  they  returned 
 from  the  public  service,  J.  Wesley. 
 
 FASTING— End  of. 
 
 The  direct  end  of  fasting  is,  the  mortifi- 
 cation of  sin.  Is  your  mind  distempered  ? 
 Your  heart  hard  ?  Grace  weak  ?  And 
 corruptions  strong  ?  Doth  pride,  envy, 
 malice,  the  love  of  the  world,  or  any  other 
 filthiness  of  flesh  or  spirit  prevail  ?  Fast- 
 ing is  then  your  duty  more  especially. 
 Some  demons  will  not  come  forth  hut  by 
 fasting  and  much  prayer  (Mark  iii,  24). 
 When  this  is  the  case,  fasting  is  the  most 
 proper  remedy,  and  should  be  used  as  the 
 chief  means  thereto.  J.  Beaumont, 
 
 FASTING— Nature  of. 
 
 As  to  the  nature  of  it  all  the  inspired 
 writers,  both  in  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
 New,  take  the  word,  to  fast,  in  one  single 
 sense,  for  not  to  eat,  to  abstain  from  food. 
 This  is  so  clear,  that  it  would  be  lost 
 labour  to  quote  the  words  of  David,  Nehe- 
 miah,  Isaiah,  and  the  prophets  that  fol- 
 lowed, or  of  our  Lord  and  His  apostles ;  all 
 
PASTING— FAULTS. 
 
 343 
 
 agreeing  in  this,  that,  to  fast,  is  not  to  eat 
 for  a  time  prescribed.  J.  Wedey. 
 
 TASTING— Reason  of. 
 
 The  reason  of  abstaining  from  food  is, 
 that  it  is  an  expression  of  our  sorrow  and 
 humiliation,  a  tacit  acl^nowledgment  that 
 ive  have  forfeited,  and  deserve  not  so  much 
 as  the  common  mercies  of  Ufe :  thus  it 
 helps  contrition.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 FASTING— Voluntary. 
 
 Fasting  should  be  free  and  voluntary,  a 
 sort  of  freewill  oft'eriiig,  not  merely  what 
 is  put  upon  us  by  constraint.  We  should 
 abstain  from  all  sustenance  of  the  body,  if 
 possible  without  injury,  and  from  all  the 
 delights  of  sense  for  a  time  for  a  religious 
 end.  Ibid. 
 
 FATALISM— Definition  of. 
 
 Fatalism  is  the  belief  of  an  unchangeable 
 destiny,  to  which  everything  is  subject, 
 uninfluenced  by  reason,  and  independent  of 
 a  controlling  cause ;  the  doctrine,  in  short, 
 which  teaches  that  all  things  take  place  by 
 inevitable  necessity.  Maunder. 
 
 FATHER— Term. 
 
 Besides  the  common  and  ordinary  accep- 
 tation of  it,  the  term  in  the  Scriptures  has 
 other  meanings. 
 
 1.  It  signifies  grandfather,  great-grand- 
 father, or,  the  very  author  and  first  father 
 of  a  family,  how  remote  soever  he  may  be 
 from  those  who  speak.  For  instance,  the 
 Jews  in  the  Saviour's  time  called  them- 
 selves the  sons  of  Abraham.  Nebuchad- 
 nezzar is  termed  Belshazzar's  father,  though 
 he  was  his  grandson. 
 
 2.  By  father  is  understood  the  inventor, 
 the  master  of  those  who  are  of  a  certain 
 profession.  Jubal  was  the  father  of  such 
 as  dwell  in  tents,  and  such  as  have  cattle. 
 Tubal  was  the  father  of  such  as  handle  the 
 harp  and  organ.  Hiram,  the  famous 
 founder  of  Tyre,  is  called  the  father  of  the 
 king  of  Tyre,  (2  Chron.  ii,  13) ;  and  even  of 
 Solomon  (2  Chron.  iv,  16).  (See  2  Kings 
 ii,  12.) 
 
 3.  Father  is  a  term  of  respect  which 
 inferiors  give  to  their  superiors,  and  ser- 
 vants to  their  masters ;  Naaraan's  servants 
 called  him  "  father"  (2  King  v,  13).  The 
 king  of  Israel  called  Elisha  his  father  (2 
 Kings  vi,  21 ;  xiii,  14). 
 
 4.  A  man  is  said  to  be  a  father  to  the 
 poor,  when  he  takes  care  to  supply  their 
 necessities.  "  I  was  a  father  to  the  poor  " 
 (Job  xxix,  16).  God  declares  himself  to  be 
 a  father  of  the  fatherless. 
 
 5.  God  is  frequently  called  Father. 
 
 6.  The  devil  is  called  the  father  of  the 
 wicked  ;  "  Ye  are  of  your  father  the  devil," 
 says  the  Saviour  (John  viii,  44).     Cruden, 
 
 FAULT-FINDER.— Disposition  of  the. 
 It  is  his  nature's  plague. 
 To  spy  into  abuses ;    and,  oft,  his  jealousy 
 Shapes  faults  that  are  not.      Skalcespeare. 
 
 FAULT-FINDER— Useful. 
 
 In  a  certain  town  in  Massachusetts  there 
 was  a  man,  several  years  since,  who  seemed 
 to  be  a  bold  leader  of  all  opposition  to  re- 
 ligion, and  always  ready  to  publish  abroad 
 any  delinquencies  which  might  be  dis- 
 covered in  any  professor  of  religion.  At 
 length,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  remove 
 from  the  place  to  another  part  of  the 
 country.  Meeting  the  pastor  of  the  Con- 
 gregational church  one  day,  he  said,  after 
 passing  the  usual  salutation  : 
 
 "  Well,  I  suppose  you  know  that  I  am 
 going  to  leave  town  soon,  and  you  will 
 probably  be  glad  of  it." 
 
 "  Glad  of  it  ?  Why  no,"  said  the  mi- 
 nister; "you  are  one  of  our  most  useful 
 men,  and  I  think  I  shall  hardly  know  how 
 to  spare  you." 
 
 Taken  aback,  somewhat,  by  such  a  reply, 
 he  immediately  asked,  "  How  is  that  ?" 
 
 *' WTiy,"  rejoined  the  minister,  "there 
 can't  be  a  sheep  that  gets  a  foot  out  of 
 this  fold,  but  what  you  will  always  bark 
 from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other. 
 I  think  you  have  really  been  one  of  the 
 most  useful  watch-dogs  that  I  ever  knew." 
 
 The  remaining  conversation  we  will  not 
 repeat ;  but  there  seemed  to  be  an  idea  too 
 good  to  be  lost,  in  reference  to  the  useful- 
 ness of  some  wicked  men,  who  are  always 
 disposed  to  find  fault  with  the  Church. 
 They  may  often  exert  some  restraining  in- 
 fluence, and  do  good  in  that  way,  when 
 they  do  not  intend  to.  David  recognised 
 this  kind  of  usefulness,  when  he  said,  "  I 
 will  take  heed  to  my  ways,  that  I  sin  not 
 with  my  tongue;  I  will  keep  my  mouth 
 with  a  bridle,  while  the  wicked  is  before 
 me  "  (Ps.  xxxix,  1).  If  the  Lord  has  bid 
 them  curse,  why  should  they  not  finish 
 their  work.  The  reward  of  such  a  kind  of 
 usefulness  may,  indeed,  differ  from  that 
 of  those  who  really  love  to  honour  God  in 
 what  they  do ;  but  that,  God  will  surely 
 see  to  in  the  end,  so  that  no  injustice  shall 
 be  done  them.  Anon. 
 
 FAULTS— Blindness  to. 
 
 It  is  with  the  children  of  men  as  with 
 the  housewife,  that,  having  diligently 
 swept  her  house,  and  cast  the  dust  out  of 
 doors,  can  see  nothing  amiss,  not  so  much 
 as  a  speck  of  dust  in  it ;  whereas,  if  the 
 sun  do  but  a  little  shine  iu  through  some 
 cranny  in  the  wall,  or  some  broken  square 
 in  the  window,  she  may  soon  see  the  whole 
 house  swim  and  swarm  with  innumerable 
 atoms  of  dust,  floating  to  and  fro  in  the 
 air,  which,  for  dimness  of  light  or  sight. 
 
344 
 
 FAULTS— FEAR. 
 
 she  was  not  able  to  discern.  Even  so  it  is 
 with  many  that  are  cai-tful  of  their  ways, 
 so  that  little  may  be  seen  amiss  that  might 
 require  either  reformation  or  amendment ; 
 yet  when  they  shall  come  to  look  more 
 attentively  into  God's  law,  a  little  beam  of 
 light  reflecting  upon  their  souls  from  it, 
 will  discover  unto  them  such  an  innumer- 
 able company,  as  well  of  corruptions  in 
 their  hearts,  as  of  errors  and  oversights  in 
 their  lives,  that  it  shall  make  them,  as  men 
 amazed,  cry  out.  Lord,  what  earthly  man 
 doth  know  the  errors  of  his  life  !    Spencer. 
 
 FAULTS— Overcoming. 
 
 It  is  not  so  much  the  being  exempt  from 
 faults,  as  the  having  overcome  them,  that 
 is  an  advantage  to  us ;  it  being  with  the 
 follies  of  the  mind,  as  with  weeds  of  a 
 field,  which,  if  destroyed  and  consumed 
 upon  the  place  where  they  grow,  enrich 
 and  improve  it  more  than  if  none  had  ever 
 sprung  there.  Dean  Swift. 
 
 FAULTS— Punishment  of. 
 
 Faults  of  the  head  are  punished  in  this 
 world,  those  of  the  heart  in  another ;  but 
 as  most  of  our  vices  are  compound,  so  also 
 is  their  punishment.  C.  CoUon. 
 
 FAULTS— Reproving. 
 
 To  reprove  small  faults  with  undue 
 vehemence,  is  as  absurd  as  if  a  man  should 
 take  a  great  hammer  to  kill  a  tly  on  his 
 friend's  forehead.  Anon. 
 
 FEAR — Anxious  and  Prudential. 
 
 We  may  distinguish  of  a  twofold  fear : — 
 
 1.  A  fear  of  solicitous  anxiety,  such  as 
 makes  us  let  go  our  confidence  in  God's  pro- 
 vidence, causing  our  thoughts  so  to  dwell 
 upon  the  dreadfulness  of  the  thing  feared 
 as  to  despair  of  a  deliverance.  And  with 
 such  a, kind  of  fear  Christ  absolutely  for- 
 bids us  to  fear  those  that  kill  the  body  ;  it 
 being  very  derogatory  to  God,  as  if  His 
 mercy  did  not  afford  as  great  arguments  for 
 our  hope,  as  the  cruelty  of  man  for  our  fears. 
 
 2.  The  second  sort  of  fear  is  a  fear  of 
 prudential  caution,  whereby  a  man,  from 
 the  due  estimate  of  an  approaching  evil, 
 endeavours  his  own  security.  And  this 
 kind  of  fear  is  not  only  lawful,  but  also 
 laudable.  For  to  what  purpose  shoiild 
 God  have  naturally  implanted  in  the  heart 
 of  man  a  passion  of  fear,  if  it  might  not  be 
 exercised  and  aftected  with  suitable  ob- 
 jects ;  that  is,  things  to  be  feared  ?  Now 
 under  this  sort  of  fear  we  may  reckon  that 
 to  which  Christ  advises  His  disciples  in  these 
 expressions,  "  Beware  of  men,"  and  "  Flee 
 from  one  city  into  another."         Dr.  South. 
 
 FEAR— Consumption  of. 
 
 Must  I  consume  my  life — this  little  life, 
 
 In  guarding  against  all  may  make  it  less  ? 
 
 Tt  is  not  worth  so  much  ! — it  were  to  die 
 Before  my  hour,  to  live  in  dread  of  death. 
 Lord  Byron. 
 FEAR— Definition  of. 
 
 Fear  is  that  uneasiness  of  mind  which 
 arises  from  an  apprehension  of  danger, 
 attended  with  a  desire  of  avoiding  it. 
 
 C.  BucJc. 
 FEAR— Filial. 
 
 A  little  boy  was  tempted  to  pluck  some 
 cherries  from  a  tree  which  his  father  had 
 forbidden  him  to  touch.  "  You  need  not 
 be  afraid,"  said  his  evil  companion,  "  for  if 
 your  father  should  find  out  that  you  have 
 taken  them,  he  is  too  kind  to  hurt  you." 
 "Ah,"  said  the  brave  little  fellow,  "that  is 
 the  very  reason  why  I  would  not  touch 
 them ;  for  though  my  father  would  not 
 hurt  me,  yet  I  should  hurt  him  by  my  dis- 
 obedience." Anon. 
 
 FEAR— Ifatural, 
 
 Fear  in  itself  is  a  thing  not  sinful.  For 
 is  not  fear  a  thing  natural,  and  for  men's 
 preservation  necessary,  implanted  in  us  by 
 the  provident  and  most  gracious  Giver  of 
 all  good  things,  to  the  end  that  we  might 
 not  run  headlong  upon  those  mischiefs 
 wherewith  we  are  not  able  to  encounter, 
 but  use  the  remedy  of  shunning  tlio-e 
 evils  which  we  have  not  ability  to  with- 
 stand ?  Hooker. 
 
 FEAR— Needless. 
 
 Human  beings  often  undergo  much  need- 
 less fear,  because  they  are  afraid  to  search 
 out  all  the  fiicts.  For  fear  of  finding  tiie 
 fact  worse  than  they  fear,  they  often  fear 
 what  is  much  worse  than  the  fact.  They 
 go  on  through  life  thinking  they  have  seen 
 a  ghost,  and  miserable  in  the  thought : 
 whereas,  if  they  had  but  screwed  their 
 courage  to  the  point  of  examining,  they 
 would  have  found  it  was  no  more  than  a 
 table-cloth  drying  upon  aline  between  two 
 poles.  Oh  that  we  could  all  for  ever  get 
 rid  of  this  moral  cowardice  !  If  you  think 
 there  is  something  the  matter  with  your 
 heart,  go  to  the  doctor  and  let  him  examine. 
 Probably  there  is  nothing  earthly  wrong. 
 And  even  if  there  be,  it  is  better  to  kno\T 
 the  worst  than  live  on  week  after  week  iii 
 a  vague  wretched  fear.  Let  us  do  the  like 
 with  our  affairs.  Let  us  do  the  like 
 with  our  religious  difficulties;  with  our 
 theological  perplexities.  The  very  v/orst 
 thing  you  can  do,  is  to  lock  the  closet  doiir 
 when  you  think  probably  there  is  a  skeleton 
 within.  Fling  it  wide  open  ;  search  with 
 a  paraffin  lamp  into  every  corner,  A  hun- 
 dred to  one,  there  is  no  skeleton  there  at 
 all.  But  from  youth  to  age  we  must  be 
 battling  with  the  dastardly  tendency  to 
 walk  away  from  the  white  donkey  in  the 
 shadow,  which  we  ought  to  walk  up  to.    I 
 
FEAR. 
 
 315 
 
 have  seen  a  little  child,  who  had  cut  her 
 finger,  entreat  that  it  might  just  be  tied 
 up,  without  ever  being  loolied  at :  she  was 
 afraid  to  look  at  it.  But  when  it  ivus 
 looked  at,  and  washed  and  sorted,  she  saw 
 how  little  a  thing  it  was  for  all  the  blood 
 that  c:tme  from  it ;  and  about  nine-tenths 
 of  her  fear  fled  away.  Boyd. 
 
 It  is  curious  to  think  how  often  these 
 needless  fears,  which  cause  so  much  un- 
 necessary anxiety  and  misery,  are  the  re- 
 sult of  pure  miscalculation  :  and  this  mis- 
 calculation not  made  in  a  hurry,  but  deli- 
 berately. I  have  a  friend  who  told  me 
 this.  When  he  was  married,  he  had  exactly 
 £500  a  year,  and  no  means  of  adding  to 
 that  income.  So,  as  he  could  not  increase 
 his  income,  his  business  was  to  keep  down 
 his  expenditure  below  it.  But  neither  he 
 nor  his  wife  knew  much  about  household 
 management ;  and  (as  he  afterwards  found) 
 he  was  a  good  deal  victimised  by  liis  serv- 
 ants. After  doing  all  he  could  to  econo- 
 mise, he  found,  at  the  end  of  the  third 
 month  of  his  financial  year,  that  he  had 
 spent  exactly  £125.  Four  times  £125,  he 
 calculated,  made  £600  a  year,  which  was 
 just  £100  more  than  he  had  got;  so  the 
 debtor's  prison  appeared  to  loom  in  view  ; 
 or  some  total  change  in  his  mode  of  life, 
 which  it  seemed  almost  impossible  for  him 
 tomake,  witiiout  very  painfulcircumstances. 
 And  for  weeks  the  thought  almost  drove 
 him  distracted.  Day  and  night  it  never 
 was  absent.  At  length,  one  dny,  brooding 
 over  his  prospects,  he  suddenly  discovered 
 that  four  times  125  made  just  500,  and  not 
 600 ;  so  that  all  his  fears  wei-e  groimdless. 
 He  was  relieved,  he  told  me  :  but  somehow 
 his  heart  had  been  so  burdened  and  sunk 
 by  those  anxious  weeks,  that  though  the 
 cause  of  anxiety  was  removed,  it  was  a 
 long  time  before  it  seemed  to  recover  its 
 spring. 
 
 Now  my  friend  had  all  his  wits  about 
 him.  There  vvas  nothing  whatever  of  that 
 causeless  delusion  which  shades  off  into 
 insanity.  But  somehow  he  thought  that 
 125  X  4  =  600;  and  his  conclusion  was 
 tluit  ruin  stared  him  in  the  face.  Ibid. 
 
 FEAE— Needless. 
 
 I  believe  that  when  you  are  worrying 
 yourself  by  imagining  all  kinds  of  evils  as 
 likely  to  befall  you,  it  will  do  you  a  great 
 deal  of  good  to  be  allowed  to  see  some- 
 thing of  other  people,  who  are  always 
 expecting  something  awful  to  happen,  and 
 with  a  morbid  ingenuity  devising  ways 
 of  making  themselves  miserable.  You 
 will  discern  how  ridiculous  such  people 
 look  ;  how  irritating  they  are ;  how,  so  far 
 from  exciting  sympathy,  they  excite  indig- 
 nation. My  friend  Jones  told  me  that 
 after  several  months  of  extremely    hard 
 
 headwork,  which  bad  lowered  his  nervous 
 system,  he  found  himself  getting  into  a 
 way  of  vaguely  dreading  what  might  come 
 next;  and  of  received  his  lettei-s  in  the 
 morning  with  many  anticipations  of  evil. 
 But  happily  a  friend  came  to  visit  him,  who 
 carried  all  this  about  a  hundred  degrees 
 farther  ;  who  had  come  through  all  his  life 
 expecting  at  least  an  earthquake  daily,  if 
 not  the  end  of  the  world.  And  Jones  was 
 set  right.  In  the  words  of  Wordsworth, 
 "  He  looked  upon  him,  and  was  calmed  and 
 cheered."  Jones  saw  how  like  a  fool  his 
 friend  seemed  ;  and  there  came  a  healthy 
 reaction ;  and  he  opened  his  letter-box 
 bravely  every  morning,  and  was  all  right 
 again.  Yes.  let  us  see  the  Helot  drunk, 
 and  it  will  teach  us  to  keep  sober.  My 
 friend  Gray  told  me  that  for  some  little 
 space  he  felt  a  growing  tendency  to  scrub- 
 biness  in  money  matters.  But  having 
 witnessed  pinching  and  paring  (without 
 the  least  need  for  them)  carried  to  a 
 transcendent  degree  by  some  one  else,  the 
 very  name  of  economy  was  made  to  stink 
 in  his  nostrils ;  and  he  felt  a  mad  desire  to 
 pitch  half-crowns  about  the  streets  where- 
 ever  he  went.  In  this  case,  the  reaction 
 went  too  far  :  but  in  a  week  or  two  Gray 
 came  hack  to  the  middle  course,  which  is 
 the  safest  and  best.  Ibid. 
 
 It  was  wise  advice  of  Sydney  Smith, 
 when  he  said  that  those  who  desire  to  go 
 hopefully  and  cheerfully  through  their 
 work  in  this  life,  should  "  take  short 
 views  :"  not  plan  too  far  ahead ;  take  the 
 present  blessing  and  be  thankful  for  it. 
 It  was  indeed  the  best  of  all  possible 
 advice  ;  for  it  was  but  a  repetition,  in  an- 
 other form,  of  the  counsel  of  the  kindest 
 and  wisest  :  "  Take  therefore  no  thought 
 for  the  morrow  :  for  the  morrow  shall  take 
 thought  for  the  things  of  itself:  Sufficient 
 unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  When- 
 ever I  see  man  or  woman,  early  old  with 
 anxiety,  and  with  a  face  deeply  lined  with 
 care,  I  tliink  of  certain  words  which  deserve 
 infinitely  better  than  to  be  printed  in  letters 
 of  gold :  and  I  wish  that  such  a  one,  and 
 that  all  I  care  for,  were  numbered  among 
 the  people  who  have  a  right  to  take  these 
 words  ibr  their  own  : 
 
 "  Be  careful  for  nothing  :  but  in  every- 
 thing, by  prayer  and  supplication  with 
 thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  made 
 known  to  God.  And  the  peace  of  God, 
 which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall  keep 
 your  hearts  and  minds  through  Christ 
 Jesus."  Ibid. 
 
 FEAR— Operation  of. 
 
 Fear  sometimes  adds  wings  to  the  heels, 
 and  sometimes  nails  them  to  the  ground, 
 and  fetters  them  from  moving. 
 
 Montaigne. 
 
346 
 
 FEAE— FEAEPUL  AND  FEARLESS. 
 
 rrAR— Signs  of. 
 
 Fear  sliows  itself  by  paleness  of  the 
 cheeks,  sinking  of  the  spirits,  trembling 
 of  the  limbs,  hurry  and  confusion  of  the 
 mind  and  thoughts,  agonies  of  nature  and 
 fainting.  Many  a  person  has  died  with 
 fear.  Sometimes  it  rouses  all  nature  to 
 exert  itself  in  speedy  flight,  or  other  me- 
 thods to  avoid  the  approaching  evil;  sudden 
 terror  has  performed  some  almost  incredi- 
 bles  of  this  kind.  Dr.  Watts. 
 
 Thereat  he  smitten  was,  with  great  affright. 
 And  trembling  terror  did  his  heart  appal, 
 Nor  wist  he  what  to  think  of  that  same 
 
 night, 
 Nor  what  to  say,  not  what  to  do  at  all. 
 
 Ibid. 
 FEAR — Unavailing. 
 
 He  that  trembles  at  the  very  sight  of 
 his  burden,  with  what  courage  will  he  be 
 able  to  stand  under  it  ?  Can  the  trembling 
 of  the  lamb  kept  off  or  mitigate  the  rage 
 of  the  wolf?  He  that  continually  torments 
 himself  with  the  fear  of  an  approaching 
 evil,  does  anticipate  his  misery,  not  avoid 
 it.  Every  strong  apprehension  of  an  object 
 is  a  certain  approximation  of  it  to  the  soul. 
 Fear  makes  the  evil  that  is  feared  present 
 to  a  man,  in  respect  of  its  trouble,  before 
 it  can  be  present  in  respect  of  its  existence : 
 wherefore  it  is  so  far  from  keeping  off  a 
 calamity,  that  it  brings  it  before  its  time. 
 It  was  not  Hezekiah's  fear  of  Sennacharib 
 but  his  confidence  in  God  that  did  pro- 
 tect him.  Dr.  South. 
 
 FEAR — Virtuous  and  Vicious. 
 
 There  is  virtuous  fear,  which  is  the  effect 
 of  faith  ;  and  there  is  a  vicious  fear,  which 
 is  the  product  of  doubt.  The  former  leads 
 to  hope  as  relying  on  God,  in  whom  we 
 believe;  the  latter  inclines  to  despair,  as 
 Kot  relying  on  God,  in  whom  we  do  not 
 believe.  Persons  of  the  one  character  fear 
 to  lose  God ;  persons  of  the  other  character 
 fear  to  find  Him.  Pascal. 
 
 FEAR  OF  GOD— Definition  of  the. 
 
 Fear  of  God  is  that  holy  disposition  or 
 gracious  habit  formed  in  the  soul  by  the 
 Holy  Spirit,  whereby  we  are  inclined  to 
 obey  all  God's  commands;  and  evidences 
 itself — 1.  By  a  dread  of  His  displeasure. 
 2.  Desire  of  His  favour.  3.  Regard  for 
 His  excellences.  4.  Submission  to  Ills 
 will.  5.  Gratitude  for  His  benefits.  6. 
 Conscientious  obedience  to  His  commands. 
 C.  Buck. 
 FEAR  OF  GOD— Filial. 
 
 As  a  father  may  sometimes  affright  his 
 children,  by  suddenly  appearing  before 
 them  in  the  armour  with  which  he  has 
 been  fighting  his  enemies ;  so  sometimes 
 
 when  God  manifests  himself  as  a  consum- 
 ing fire — the  armour  with  which  He  often 
 clads  Himself  against  His  enemies — His 
 own  children  become  excited  with  fear  for 
 a  time ;  but  when  he  speaks  to  them  in  a 
 Father's  voice,  they  at  once  recognise  Him, 
 and  their  fear  gives  place  to  increased  con- 
 fidence and  love.  John  Bate. 
 
 FEAR  OF  GOD— When  Sinful. 
 
 Fear  is  sinful  when — 1.  It  proceeds  from 
 unbelief  or  distrust  of  God.  2.  When  it 
 ascribes  more  to  the  creature  than  is  due ; 
 or  when  we  fear  our  enemies  without  con- 
 sidering they  are  under  God.  3.  When  we 
 fear  that  in  God  that  is  not  in  Him,  or  that 
 He  will  break  His  promises,  &c.  4.  When 
 our  fear  is  immoderate,  so  as  to  distract  us 
 in  duty.  C.  Buck. 
 
 FEAR  OF  GOD— Slavish. 
 
 When  Adam  through  disobediencebrought 
 guilt  upon  his  conscience,  he  dreaded  to  see 
 or  to  think  of  God,  and  sought  to  hide  him- 
 self from  His  holy  presence.  It  is  so  with 
 Adam's  children ;  sin  produces  guilt,  guilt 
 produces  a  slavish  fear  of  God,  and  this  fear 
 moves  them  to  the  use  of  means  to  shut  out 
 the  thoughts  of  God  from  their  souls,  or 
 to  seclude  themselves  in  places  which  they 
 imagine  He  cannot  discover.      John  Bate. 
 
 FEAR  AND  LOVE. 
 
 Fear  and  love  are  necessary  to  constitute 
 that  frame  of  mind  wherein  the  essence  of 
 piety  or  true  godliness  doth  consist.  Fear 
 is  necessary  to  keep  God  in  our  eyes ;  it  is 
 the  office  of  love  to  enthrone  him  in  our 
 hearts.  Fear  cautions  or  avoids  whatever 
 may  oflTend  ;  love  yields  a  prompt  and 
 liberal  service.  Fear  regards  God  as  a 
 witness  and  a  judge;  love  cleaves  to  Hira 
 as  a  Friend  and  a  Father.  Fear  makes  us 
 watchful  and  circumspect ;  love  renders  us 
 active  and  resolute.  In  short,  fear  and  love 
 go  hand-in-hand,  and  mutually  assist  each 
 other.  Love  keeps  fear  from  being  servile 
 and  distrustful;  and  fear  keeps  love  from 
 being  forward  and  secure  ;  and  both  spring 
 from  one  root,  viz.,  faith  in  God  as  a  Being 
 possessed  of  infinite  perfection,  and  related 
 to  us  as  our  Creator  and  Governor,  our 
 Redeemer  and  Judge.  Cope. 
 
 FEARFUL  AND  FEARLESS. 
 
 Here  is  depicted  plainly  to  the  eye. 
 
 The  wicked  fleeing  when  no  foe  is  nigh. 
 
 The  thunder  echoing  in  its  deep  -  toned 
 peals. 
 
 Alarms  his  conscience  and  awakes  his 
 heels. 
 
 The  wind  low  whistling  through  the  hol- 
 low tree, 
 
 A  call  from  justice  is,  from  which  they 
 
PEELING— rElLOWSHIP. 
 
 347 
 
 The  rolling  torrent  in  its  murmur  loud, 
 Appears  the  sbout  of  the  pursuing  crowd ; 
 Each  object  looming  through  the  gloom  of 
 
 night, 
 His  fear  increases,  and  augments  his  flight. 
 Not  so  the  righteous ;  see  him  walk  along, 
 Bold  as  a  lion,  as  a  mountain  strong. 
 Couritgeous  heart,  he  fears  no  rude  sur- 
 prise. 
 He  trusts  in  Jesus  and  all  else  defies. 
 
 Holmes. 
 FEELING— Faith  Before. 
 
 In  philosophy  a  man  begins  by  experi- 
 ence, after  which  comes  knowledge  and 
 belief;  as  when  a  man  hath  put  his  hand 
 to  the  fire,  and  feels  it  to  be  hot,  he  comes 
 to  know  thereby  that  fire  burns;  but  in 
 divinity,  we  must  believe  though  we  have 
 no  feeling :  first  comes  faith,  and  after 
 comes  sense  and  feeling.  W.  Perkins. 
 
 FEELING— Comes  of  Faith. 
 
 Faith  does  not  spring  out  of  feeling,  but 
 feeling  out  of  faith.  The  less  you  feel  the 
 more  you  should  trust.  You  cannot  feel 
 aright  till  you  have  believed.  As  all  true 
 repentance  has  its  root  in  faith,  f^p  all  true 
 feeling  has  the  same.  It  is  vain  for  you  to 
 attempt  to  reverse  God's  order  of  things. 
 Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 FEELING— No  Rule  of  Experience. 
 
 Feeling  is  not  always  a  fit  rule  to  judge 
 our  states  by,  that  God  hath  rejected  us, 
 because  we  are  crossed  in  outward  things, 
 wliereas  this  issues  from  God's  wisdom 
 and  love.  How  many  imagine  their  fail- 
 ings to  be  fallings,  and  their  fallings  to 
 be  fallings  away  ;  infirmities  to  be  pre- 
 sumptions ;  every  sin  against  conscience, 
 to  he  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 imto  which  misapprehensions  weak  and 
 dark  spirits  are  subject.  And  Satan, 
 as  a  cunning  rhetorician,  here  enlargeth 
 the  fancy,  to  apprehend  things  bigger  than 
 they  are.  Satan  abuseth  confident  spirits 
 another  contrary  way ;  to  apprehend  great 
 sins  as  little  and  little  as  none.  Some  also 
 think  that  they  have  no  grace,  because 
 they  have  not  so  much  as  grown  Chris- 
 tians; whereas  there  be  several  ages  in 
 Christ.  Some,  again,  are  so  desirous  and 
 enlarged  after  what  they  have  not,  that 
 they  mind  not  what  they  have  !  Men  may 
 be  ricli  though  they  have  no  millions,  and 
 be  not  emperors.  Sibbes. 
 
 FEELING— "Want  of. 
 
 Had  the  woman  of  Sychar  any  feeling 
 when  He  spoke  to  her  so  lovingly  ?  Was 
 it  the  amount  of  conviction  in  Zaccheus 
 that  made  the  Lord  address  him  so  gra- 
 ciously, "  Make  haste,  for  to-day  I  must 
 abide  at  thy  house  ?"  The  balm  of  Gilead 
 will  not  be  the  less  suitable  for  you,  nor 
 
 the  physician  there  less  affectionate  and 
 cordial,  because,  in  addition  to  other  dis- 
 eases, ye  are  afflicted  with  the  benumbed 
 palsy.  Your  greater  need  only  gives  Him 
 an  opportunity  of  showing  the  extent  of 
 His  fulness,  as  well  as  the  riches  of  His 
 grace.  Come  to  Him,  then,  just  because 
 you  do  not  feel.  "  Him  that  conieth  I  will 
 in  no  wise  cast  out."  Whatever  you  may 
 feel,  or  may  not  feel,  it  is  still  a  faithful 
 saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
 Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
 sinners.  Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 FEELINGS- Depending  on. 
 
 To  depend  upon  feelings  in  religion  is 
 unsafe  and  dangerous.  A  man  may  as 
 well  think  of  holding  fast  to  the  clouds, 
 building  upon  running  sand  or  relying  on 
 the  wind.  The  clouds,  the  sand,  the  wind, 
 are  no  more  changeable  and  uncertain  than 
 are  feelings.  A  change  in  circumstances, 
 or  a  change  in  health,  or  a  change  in  friends 
 will  often  produce  an  equal  change  in  feel- 
 ings. Our  religion  should  be  like  the  sun, 
 cloud  or  no  cloud,  go  on  in  its  shining 
 course;  like  the  earth,  wind  or  no  wind, 
 roll  on  in  its  orbit ;  we  should  "  stand  by 
 faith;"  "live  by  faith;"  and  "hold  fast 
 the  profession  of  our  faith."        John  Bate. 
 
 FELLOWSHIP— Christian. 
 
 Christian  society  is  like  a  bundle  of  sticks, 
 laid  together,  whereof  one  kindles  another. 
 Solitary  men  have  fewest  provocations  to 
 evil ;  but  again,  fewest  incitations  to  good. 
 So  much  as  doing  good  is  better  than  not 
 doing  evil  will  I  account  Christian  good 
 fellowship  better  than  an  hermetish  and 
 melancholy  solitarintss.  Bjp.  Hall. 
 
 FELLOWSHIP— Church. 
 
 1.  The  nature  of  Church  fellowship  is 
 the  communion  that  the  members  enjoy 
 one  with  another — (1)  In  duties  (Rom.  xii, 
 6  ;  1  Cor.  xii,  1 ;  1  Thess.  v,  17, 18 ;  Jas.  v, 
 16).  (2)  In  ordinances  (Heb.  x,  24;  Acts 
 ii,  46).  (3)  In  graces,  love,  joy,  &c.  (Heb. 
 X,  24;  Mai.  iii,  16;  2  Cor,  \\\\\  4).  (4)  In 
 interests  spiritual  and  sometimes  temporal 
 (Rom.  xii,  4,  13;  Heb.  xiii,  16).  (5)  In 
 suflerings  (Rom.  xv,  1,  2;  Gal.  vi,  1,  2; 
 Rom.  xii,  15). 
 
 2.  The  end  of  Church  fellowship  is — (1) 
 The  maintenance  and  exhibition  of  a  sys- 
 tem of  sound  doctrine  (2  Tim.  i,  13 ;  1  Tim. 
 vi,  3,  4  ;  1  Cor.  viii,  5,  6 ;  Heb.  ii,  1  ; 
 Eph.  iv,  21).  (2)  The  support  of  the  ordi- 
 nances of  Gospel  worship  in  their  purity 
 and  simplicity  (Deut.  xii,  31,  32;  Rom. 
 xv,  6).  (3)  'J'he  promotion  of  holiness  in 
 all  manner  of  conversation  (Phil,  i,  27; 
 ii,  15,  16;  2  Pet.  iii,  11;  Phil,  iv,  8). 
 
 3.  The  duties  of  Church  fellowsliip  are — 
 (1)  Earnest  study  to  keep  peace  and  unity 
 (Eph.  iv,  3;    Phil,  ii,  2,  3;   iii,  15,  16). 
 
348 
 
 FELLOWSHIP  OF  SAINTS— FIDELITY  TO  CHSIST. 
 
 (2)  Benrinor  of  one  another's  burdens  (Gal. 
 vi,  1,  2).  (3)  Earnest  endeavonrs  to  pre- 
 vent each  other's  stuuiblino-  (1  Cor.  x,  2, 
 3;  Heb.  x,  24—27;  Rom.  xiv,  13).  (4) 
 Stedfast  continuance  in  the  faith  and  wor- 
 ship of  the  Gospel  (Acts  ii,  42).  (5)  Pray- 
 ing for  and  sympatbising  with  each  other 
 (1  Sam.  xii,  23;  Eph.  vi,  18). 
 
 4.  Tlie  advanfaiies  oK  Church  fellowship 
 are — (1)  Peculiar  incitements  to  holiness 
 (Ecc.  iv,  11).  (2)  There  are  some  promises 
 applicable  to  none  but  those  who  attend 
 the  ordinances  of  God,  and  bold  communion 
 with  the  saints  (Ps.  xcii,  13  ;  Isa.  xxv,  6  ; 
 Ps.  cxxxii,  13 — 16;  xx.wi,  8;  Jer.  xxxi, 
 12).  (3)  Such  are  under  the  watchful  eye 
 and  care  of  their  pastor  (Heb.  xiii,  7).  (4) 
 Subject  to  the  friendly  reproof  or  kind 
 a-ilvice  of  the  saints  (1  Cor.  xii,  25).  (5) 
 Their  zeal  and  love  are  animated  by  mutual 
 and  reciprocal  conversation  (Mai.  iii,  16; 
 Prov.  xxvii,  17).  (6)  They  may  restore 
 each  other  if  they  tVill  (Ecc.  iv,  10;  Gal. 
 vi,  1).  (7)  Can  more  easily  promote  and 
 spread  the  Gospel.  Buck. 
 
 FELLOWSHIP  OF  SAIKTS. 
 
 More  sweet   than   odours  caught  by  him 
 
 who  sails 
 Near  s]3icy  shores  of  Araby  the  blest — 
 A  thousand  times  more  exquisitely  sweet 
 The  freight  of  holy  feeling  which  we  moot. 
 In    thoughtful   moments — wal'ted    by   the 
 
 gales 
 From  fields  where  good  men  walk. 
 Or  bowers  wherein  they  rest. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 The  saints  on  earth,  when  sweetly  they 
 
 converse, 
 And  the  dear  favours  of  kind  heaven  re- 
 hearse ; 
 Each  feels  the  other's  joys,  both  doubly 
 
 share 
 The  blessings  which  devoutly  they   com- 
 pare ; 
 If  saints  such  mutinnl  joy  feel  here  below. 
 When  they  each  other's  heavenly  foretastes 
 
 know, 
 What  joys  transport  them  at  each  other's 
 
 sigh't 
 When  they  shall  meet  in  empyreal  height ! 
 Anon. 
 FELLOWSHIP  AND  SOCIETY. 
 
 Both  these  terms  are  emjiloyed  to  denote 
 a  close  intercourse  ;  but  fellowship  is  said 
 of  men  as  individuals,  society  of  them 
 coUectiyely ;  we  should  be  careful  not  to 
 hold  fellowship  with  any  one  of  bad  cha- 
 racter, or  to  join  the  society  of  those  who 
 profess  bad  principles.  G.  Crabb. 
 
 FELLOWSHIP  OF  SOULS. 
 
 Fellowship  of  souls  does  not  consist  in 
 the  pro.^luiity  of  persons.     There  are  mil- 
 
 lions who  live  in  close  personal  contact, 
 dwell  under  the  same  roof,  board  at  the 
 same  table,  and  work  in  the  same  shop, 
 between  whose  minds  there  is  scarcely  a 
 point  of  contact,  whose  souls  are  as  far 
 asunder  as  tlie  poles.  Whilst,  contrariwise, 
 there  are  those  separated  by  oceans  and 
 continents,  aye,  by  the  mysterious  gulf 
 that  divides  time  from  eternity,  between 
 whom  there  is  a  constant  intercourse,  a 
 delightful  fellowship.  In  truth  we  have 
 often  more  comumuion  witli  the  distant 
 than  the  near.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 FIDELITY— Christian. 
 
 There  have  been  men  on  this  earth  of 
 God's,  of  whom  it  was  simply  true  that  it 
 was  easier  to  turn  the  sun  from  its  course 
 than  these  from  the  paths  of  honour. 
 There  have  been  men  like  John  the  Bap- 
 tist who  could  speak  the  truth  which  had 
 made  their  own  spirits  free,  with  the  axe 
 above  their  neck.  There  have  been  men 
 redeemed  in  their  inmost  being  by  Clirist, 
 on  whom  tyrants  and  mobs  have  done 
 their  worst,  and  when,  like  Stephen,  the 
 stones  crashed  in  upon  tljeir  brain,  or 
 wlien  th»ir  tie.sh  hissed  or  crackled  in  the 
 flames,  were  calmly  superior  to  it  :ill. 
 
 F.  W.  JRuUrisor.. 
 
 Faithful  found 
 Among  the  faithless,  faithful  only  he 
 Among  innumerable  false,  unmove  1, 
 Unbroken,  unsednced,  unterrified. 
 His  loyalty  he  kept,  his  love,  his  zeal. 
 Nor    number,    nor    example,    with    him 
 
 wrought. 
 To  swerve  i'rom  truth,  or  change  his  con- 
 
 stant  mind, 
 Though  single.  Milton, 
 
 FIDELITY  TO  CHEIST  -Triumphant. 
 
 A  heathen  king  had  a  pious  bishop 
 brought  before  him,  and  demanded  that  he  - 
 should  renounce  his  belief,  and  bow  down 
 before  the  idols.  But  the  bishop  refuse;!, 
 and  said,  "No,  king;  that  will  I  never 
 do."  Rage  seized  the  king,  and  he  cried 
 out,  in  ire,  "  Dost  thou  not  know  that  thy 
 life  is  in  my  hands,  and  tliat  I  can  kill 
 thee  ?  A  word  from  me,  and  it  is  done." 
 "  That  I  well  know,"  answered  the  bishop; 
 "  but  first  allow  me  to  relate  to  you  u 
 parable,  and  beg  you  to  answer  me  a 
 question.  Suppose  that  one  of  thy  truest 
 and  most  faitliful  servants  fell  into  the 
 power  of  thine  enemies,  and  they,  trying 
 to  shake  his  faith  in  thee,  should  seek  to 
 make  him  a  traitor  to  thee  and  thy  house; 
 but  not  being  able  to  destroy  his  faith- 
 fulness, should  then  strip  him  of  his  rai- 
 ment, and  chase  him  away  with  mockery ; 
 say,  oh  king,  when  he  came  thus  naked  to 
 thee,  wouldst  thou  not  give  him  the  cost- 
 liest garments,  and  cover  him  with  honour?" 
 
FIDELITY  TO  THE  CKURCH— riDELITY  IN  PES3ECUTI01T, 
 
 349 
 
 The  Idng  replied, "  Most  assuredly  I  slionld; 
 but  what  has  this  to  do  with  the  question  ?" 
 And  the  hishop  answered,  "  Now  see.  Thou 
 canst  strip  me  of  my  earthly  body,  but  I 
 have  a  Lord  who  will  clothe  me  anew. 
 Shall  I,  then,  value  my  raiment  more  than 
 my  faith  ?"  The  king  was  silent.  At 
 last  he  spoke :   "  Go ;  thy  life  be  spared  1" 
 
 Alton. 
 FIDELITY  TO  THE  CHURCH. 
 
 "When  the  Steamship  "  Canadian"  was 
 sinking  in  the  deep  waters  on  the  shores 
 of  America,  a  passenger,  who  barely  escaped 
 from  an  ocean  grave,  told  me  that  the 
 engineer  kept  faithful  to  his  post,  and  that 
 the  cabin-boy  was  heard  to  say.  He  would 
 not  forsake  the  dear  Canadian.  These  two 
 facts  may  serve  to  show  us,  that  in  the 
 time  of  the  Church's  greatest  danger, 
 aiising  from  persecutions,  dissentions,  or 
 anything  else  that  seeks  to  destroy  her, 
 tlie  ministry  and  membership  should  abide 
 faithful  to  their  post,  and  rather  than  for- 
 sake the  Church  to  save  their  peace  and 
 ease,  they  should  prefer  abiding  by  the 
 destiny  which  awaits  her.  Jokn  Bate. 
 
 FIDELITY  IN  DUTY— Eewarded. 
 
 Henry  V  on  the  evening  of  Aginconrt 
 found  the  chivalric  David  Camui  siill 
 clasping  the  banner  which  through  the 
 fight  his  strength  had  borne,  and  his  right 
 arm  defended.  Often  had  the  monarch 
 noticed  that  pennon  waving  in  the  foremost 
 van  of  the  men  of  England  who  that  day 
 pierced,  broke,  and  routed  the  proud  ranks 
 of  France.  The  king  knighted  him  as 
 he  lay.  The  hero  died,  but  dying  was  en- 
 nobled!    S.  Coley. 
 
 Whitfield  and  a  pious  companion  were 
 much  annoyed  one  night,  at  a  public  house, 
 by  a  set  or  gamblers  in  the  room  adjoining 
 wliere  they  slept.  Their  noisy  clamor  and 
 horrid  blasphemy  so  excited  Whitfield's 
 abhorrence  and  pious  sympathy,  that  he 
 could  not  rest. 
 
 "  I  will  go  to  them,  and  reprove  their 
 wickedness,"  said  he.  His  companion  re- 
 monstrated in  vain.  He  went.  His  words 
 of  reproof  were  apparently  powerless  upon 
 them.  Returning,  he  laid  down  to  sleep. 
 His  companion  asked  him,  rather  abruptly  : 
 
 "  What  did  you  gain  by  it  ?" 
 
 "  A  soft  pillow,"  he  said  patiently,  and 
 soon  fell  asleep. 
 
 Yes,  a  "soft  pillow"  is  the  reward  of 
 fidelity — the  companion  of  a  clear  con- 
 science. It  is  a  sufficient  remuneration 
 for  doing  right,  in  the  absence  of  all  other 
 reward.  And  none  know  more  truly  the 
 value  of  a  soft  pillow,  than  those  parents 
 whose  anxiety  for  wayward  children  is  en- 
 hanced by  a  consciousness  of  neglect.  Those 
 who  faithfully  rebuke,  and  properly  restrain 
 
 them  by  their  Christian  deportment  and 
 religious  counsels,  can  sleep  qu'e  ly  iii  the 
 day  of  trial.  Dr.  Wise. 
 
 FIDELITY  TO  THE  FAITH. 
 
 St.  Paul  "kept  the  faith"  at  Antioch, 
 even  when  the  infatuated  rrowd  atteuipted 
 to  drown  his  voice  with  their  clamour, 
 and  "interrupted  him,  contradicting  and 
 blaspheming."  He  "  kept  the  faitli"  at 
 Iconium,  when  the  "  envious  Jews  stirred 
 up  the  people  to  stone  him."  He  "kept 
 the  faith"  at  Lystra,  when  the  fate  of 
 Stephen  became  almost  his,  and  he  was 
 dragged,  wounded  and  bleeding,  outside 
 the  ramparts  of  the  town,  and  left  there 
 to  languish,  and,  for  ought  they  cared,  to 
 die.  He  "  kept  the  faith"  against  his 
 erring  brother  Peter,  and  "  withstood  him 
 to  the  face,  because  he  was  to  be  blamed. 
 He  "kept  the  faith"  when  shamefully 
 treated  at  Phillippi,  and  made  the  dun- 
 geon echo  back  the  praises  of  his  God. 
 He  "  kept  the  faith"  at  Thessalonica,  when 
 "lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort  accused 
 him  falsely  of  sedition"  He  "  kept  the 
 faith"  at  Athens,  when,  to  the  world's 
 sages,  he  preached  of  Him  whom  they  igno- 
 rautly  worshipped  as  "  the  unknown  God." 
 He  "  kept  the  faith"  at  Corinth,  when  com- 
 pelled to  abandon  that  hardened  and  ob- 
 durate city,  and  to  shake  oft'  the  dust  from 
 his  garment,  as  a  testimony  against  it. 
 "  He  kept  the  faith"  at  Ephesus,  when  he 
 pointed  his  hearers  not  to  Diana,  but  to 
 Jesus  Christ  as  their  only  Saviour.  He 
 "  kept  the  faith"  at  Jerusalem,  when  stoned 
 by  the  enraged  and  agitated  mob — when 
 stretched  upcm  the  torturing  rack,  and 
 bound  with  iron  fetters.  He  "kept  the 
 faith"  in  Cesaraea,  before  the  trembling, 
 conscience-stricken  Felix,  when  he  "  rea- 
 soned of  righteousness,  temperance,  and 
 judgment  to  come."  He  "kept  the  faith" 
 before  Agrippa,  and,  by  his  earnestness, 
 compelled  the  king  to  say,  "  Almost  thou 
 persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian ;"  and 
 even  in  the  closing  hours  of  life,  when  the 
 last  storm  was  gathering  over  his  head, 
 when  lying  in  the  dark  and  dismal  Roman 
 cell,  he  wrote  these  triumphant  words,  "  I 
 am  now  ready  to  be  ofi'ered,  and  the  time 
 of  my  departure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought 
 a  good  tight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I 
 have  kept  the  faith.  Henceforth  there  is 
 laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness 
 which  the  Lord,  tlie  Righteous  Judge 
 shall  give  me  at  that  day."  Macduff. 
 
 FIDELITY  IN  PEESECUTION. 
 
 True  men  are  calm  and  faithful  in  the 
 greatest  trials  and  before  the  fiercest  foes. 
 Josephus  records  a  case  in  point,  the  speech 
 of  Eleazer  before  the  tyrant  Antiochus. 
 Said  the  intrepid  martyr,  "  Old  age  has 
 not  so  impaired  my  mind,  or  enfeebled  my 
 
350 
 
 FIDELITY  TO  THE  TSUTH— PLATTERY. 
 
 body,  but  when  religion  and  duty  call  upon 
 nie,  I  feel  a  youthful  and  vigorous  soul. 
 Does  this  declaration  awaken  your  resent- 
 ment ?  Prepare  your  instruments  of  tor- 
 ture, provoke  the  flames  of  the  furnace  to 
 a  fiercer  rage ;  nothing  shall  induce  me  to 
 save  these  silver  locks,  by  a  violation  of 
 the  ordinances  of  my  country  and  of  my 
 God.  Thou  holy  law  !  from  whom  I  derive 
 my  knowledge,  I  will  never  desert  so  ex- 
 cellent a  master.  Thou  prime  virtue,  tem- 
 perance !  I  will  never  abjure  thee.  August 
 and  sacred  priesthood !  I  will  never  dis- 
 grace thee.  I  will  bear  it  to  my  ancestors 
 a  pure  and  unsullied  soul,  as  free  ft-om 
 stain  as  I  stand  in  this  place  devoid  of 
 fear,  amidst  the  parade  of  your  threatening 
 engines  and  implements  of  martyrdom." 
 
 E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 FIDELITY  TO  THE  TRUTH. 
 
 Valens,  the  emperor,  a  zealous  Arian, 
 went  on  a  kind  of  visitation  tour  through 
 his  dominions,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
 his  subjects  to  confess  the  same  faith  as 
 himself;  so  he  and  his  prefect  came  to 
 Cesareea.  The  prefect  sent  for  Basil ;  and, 
 after  a  little  altercation,  he  asked  him  if 
 he  was  not  ashamed  to  profess  a  different 
 creed  from  that  of  the  Emperor.  Basil 
 intimated  that  he  thought  it  better  to 
 stand  alone  by  the  side  of  truth,  than  with 
 all  the  world  on  the  side  of  falsehood.  The 
 prefect  lost  his  patience,  and  began  to  talk 
 of  other  weapons  than  those  of  argument. 
 "  Are  you  not  afraid  to  oppose  me  ?"  he 
 said  to  Basil.  "  Why  should  I  fear  ?" 
 said  Basil,  "  what  will  happen  ?"  The 
 prefect,  bloated  with  rage,  and  almost 
 choked  with  passion,  gasped  out  convul- 
 sively, "  Confiscation,  banishment,  torture, 
 death  !"  "  Have  you  nothing  else  ?"  asked 
 the  imdaunted  bishop;  "for  nothing  you 
 have  spoken  has  any  effect  on  me.  He 
 that  has  nothing  to  lose  is  not  afraid  of 
 confiscation.  Save  these  threadbare,  tat- 
 tered garments,  and  a  few  books,  I  have 
 nothing  you  can  take;  and  as  to  banish- 
 ment !  you  cannot  banish  me,  for  the  earth 
 is  the  Lord's,  and  the  fulness  thereof, 
 whose  stranger  and  pilgrim  I  am  :  and  as 
 to  torture,  the  first  stroke  would  kill  me ; 
 and  to  kill  me  is  to  send  me  to  glory." 
 "No  man  ever  spoke  to  me  like  that  be- 
 fore," said  the  crest-fallen  official.  "  Per- 
 haps you  never  met  with  a  Christian  bishop 
 before,"  was  the  reply.  A  widow,  one  of 
 Basil's  flock,  threw  herself  under  his  pro- 
 tection, and  he  risked  his  life  to  ensure  her 
 safety.  The  Emperor,  with  a  body  of 
 soldiers,  went  to  the  Church  and  demanded 
 the  Sacrament  at  Basil's  hand ;  and  he  de- 
 termined to  die  rather  than  dispense  the 
 emblems  of  Christ's  death  to  one  who 
 repudiated  His  divinity.  At  last  a  day  of 
 clouds  and  storms  was  followed  by  a  culm 
 
 and  tranquil  sunset ;  Basil  closed  his  eyes 
 upon  this  scene  of  trouble,  to  open  them 
 upon  the  unbroken  calm  that  slumbers  on 
 the  everlasting  hills.  F.  J.  Sharr, 
 
 FIRMNESS— Definition  of. 
 
 That  profound  firmness  which  enables  a 
 man  to  regard  difficulties  but  as  evils  to  be 
 surmounted,  no  matter  what  shape  they 
 may  assume.  W,  Coclton. 
 
 FIRMNESS— MoraL 
 
 George  III  was  a  man  of  firm  mind, 
 with  whom  one  had  pleasure  in  acting. 
 He  was  very  slow  in  forming  his  opinion, 
 very  diligent  iu  procuring  every  informa- 
 tion on  the  subject;  but  once  convinced, 
 he  would  act  with  the  most  unflinching 
 firmness.  His  beautiful  speech  about  the 
 Roman  Catholic  question  shows  his  cha- 
 racter: "I  can  give  up  my  crown  and 
 retire  from  power ;  I  can  quit  my  palace, 
 and  live  in  a  cottage;  I  can  lay  my  head 
 on  a  block,  and  lose  my  life;  but  I  can 
 not  break  my  oath."  Twiss. 
 
 FLATTERY— Acceptance  of. 
 Honey 'd  assent. 
 How  pleasant  art  thou  to  the  taste  of  man. 
 And  woman  also  !  flattery  direct 
 Rarely  disgusts.  They  little  know  mankind, 
 Who  doubt  its  operation  :  'tis  my  key. 
 And  opes  the  wicket  of  the  human  heart. 
 Glenalvon. 
 
 'Tis  an  old  maxim  of  the  schools. 
 That  flattery's  the  food  of  fools  ; 
 Yet  now  and  then  your  men  of  wit 
 Will  condescend  to  take  a  bit.        Swift, 
 
 FLATTERY— Caution  against. 
 
 We  should  feel  as  if  our  ears  were  stung 
 with  blasphemy,  when  we  dis^ver  any 
 attempt  to  transfer  the  crown  of  glory 
 from  the  head  of  the  Redeemer  to  that  of 
 any  of  His  servants.  Simeon. 
 
 Christian !  thou  knowest  thou   carries*; 
 gunpowder  about  thee.     Desire  them  that 
 carry  fire  to  keep  at  a  distance.     It  is  a 
 dangerous  crisis,  when  a  proud  heart  meets     j 
 JFlavel.     ? 
 
 FLATTERY— Deceit  of.  ) 
 
 Shrewd  adventurers,  in  order  to  obtain 
 what  they  desire,  speak  what  they  do  not 
 believe,  and  the  basest  flattery  often  ob- 
 tains what  substantial .  merit  and  sound 
 reason  would  never  procure.  A  member 
 of  the  Grammont  family  one  day  found 
 Cardinal  Richelieu  employed  in  jumping, 
 and,  with  all  the  cunning  flattery  of  a 
 Frenchman  and  a  courtiei-,  offered  to  jump 
 against  him.  He  suffered  the  man  of 
 political  power  to  jump  higher,  and  soon 
 
 with  flattering  lips. 
 
FLATTERY— FLESH. 
 
 351 
 
 after  found  himself  rewarded  with  a  lucra- 
 tive office.  E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 FLATTERY— Doings  of. 
 
 Smooth  talk  proves  often  sweet  poison. 
 Flattery  is  tht  very  spring  and  mother  of 
 all  impiety ;  it  blows  the  trumpet  and 
 draws  poor  souls  into  rebellion  against 
 God,  as  Sheba  drew  Israel  against  David ; 
 it  put  our  first  parents  upon  tasting  the 
 forbidden  fruit ;  it  put  Absalom  upon  de- 
 throning his  father;  it  put  Hainan  upon 
 plotting  the  ruin  of  the  .Tewsj  it  put 
 Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram,  upon  re- 
 belling against  Moses;  it  makes  men  call 
 evil  good,  and  good  evil,  darlcness  light, 
 and  light  darkness.  It  puts  men  upon 
 abusing  God,  slighting  Christ,  and  vexing 
 the  Spirit ;  it  unmans  a  man,  it  makes  him 
 call  black  white,  and  white  black  ;  it  makes 
 a  man  change  pearls  for  pebbles,  and  gold 
 for  counters;  it  makes  a  man  judge  him- 
 self wise,  when  foolish  ;  knowing,  when  he 
 is  ignorant;  holy,  when  he  is  profane; 
 free,  when  he  is  a  prisoner ;  rich,  when  he 
 is  poor ;  high,  when  he  is  low ;  full,  when 
 he  is  empty ;  happy,  when  he  is  miserable. 
 Anon. 
 
 The  parasites  of  Darius  deified  him  for 
 a  month,  to  make  him  the  tool  and  victim 
 of  their  malicious  plot.  Ziba's  smooth 
 words  drew  David  into  deep  disgrace ;  and, 
 by  listening  to  lying  prophets,  Ahab  be- 
 came infatuated  by  flattery,  and  was  soon 
 involved  iu  ruin.  Ibid. 
 
 'Tis  too  much  proved — that  with  devotion's 
 
 visage. 
 And  pious  action,  we  do  sugar  o'er 
 The  devil  himself.  E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 FLATTERY— Evils  of. 
 
 A  man  I  knew  who  lived  upon  a  smile, 
 
 And  well  it  fed  him ;  he  look'd  plump  and 
 
 fair. 
 While  rankest  venom  foamed  through  every 
 
 vein; 
 Living,  he  fawn'd  on  every  fool  alive ; 
 And,  dying,  cursed  the  friend  on  whom  he 
 
 lived.  Young. 
 
 When  Alexander  the  Great  had  received 
 from  an  arrow  a  wound  that  would  not 
 heal,  he  said  to  his  parasites.  You  say  that 
 I  am  Jupiter's  son,  but  this  wound  proves 
 me  a  feeble  man.  Undeserved  praise  is 
 always  fatal  in  its  effects  on  the  vain- 
 glorious dupe.  More  danger  lurks  in 
 adulation  than  in  abuse,  since  it  is  the 
 slaver  that  kills  and  not  the  bite.  They 
 who  are  voracious  of  vain  compliments, 
 drink  from  a  Circean  cup,  which  first  ex- 
 hilarates to  madness  and  then  destroys. 
 
 JE.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 FLATTERY— Power  of. 
 
 All-potent  Flattery,  universal  lord ! 
 Reviled,  yet  courted ;  censured,  yet  adored : 
 How  thy  strong  spell  each  human  bosom 
 
 draws, 
 The  very  echo  to  our  self-applause  ! 
 'Tis  thine  to  smooth  the  furrow'd  brow  of 
 
 Pique, 
 Wrinkle  with    smiles  the    sour  reluctant 
 
 cheek. 
 Silence  the  wrathful,  make  the  sullen  speak, 
 Disarm  a  tyrant,  tame  a  father's  curse. 
 Wring  the  slow  farthing  from  the  miser's 
 
 purse. 
 Subdue   Lucretia,   even   when   gold   shall 
 
 fail. 
 And  make  Apicius  smile  o'er  cheese  and 
 
 ale.  Foi^e. 
 
 The  firmest  purpose  of  a  human  heart. 
 To  well-tim'd,  artful  flattery  may  yield. 
 
 Anon. 
 FLATTERY— Prohibiting. 
 
 One  of  the  first  acts  performed  by  George 
 III  after  his  accession  to  the  throne,  was 
 to  issue  an  order,  prohibiting  any  of  the 
 clergy  who  should  be  called  to  preach 
 before  him,  from  paying  him  any  com- 
 pliment in  their  discourses.  His  majesty 
 was  led  to  this  from  the  fulsome  adulation 
 which  Dr.  Thomas  Wilson,  Prebendary  of 
 Westminster,  thought  proper  to  deliver  in 
 the  chapel  royal ;  and  for  which,  instead 
 of  thanks,  he  received  from  his  royal  auditor 
 a  pointed  reprimand,  his  majesty  observing 
 "  that  he  came  to  chapel  to  laear  the  praises 
 of  God,  and  not  his  own."  Arvine. 
 
 FLATTERY  AND  DETRACTION. 
 
 As  by  flattery  a  man  is  usually  brought 
 to  open  his  bosom  to  his  mortal  enemy ;  so 
 by  detraction  and  a  slanderous  misreporfc 
 of  pei'sons,  he  is  often  brought  to  shut  the 
 same  even  to  his  best  and  truest  friend. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 FLESH— Conflicts  of  the. 
 
 You  that  carry  flesh  and  blood  about 
 with  you,  and  sinful  natures,  and  do  per- 
 ceive the  conflicts  of  the  flesh  against  the 
 spirit;  weigh  with  yourselves  what  it  is 
 the  flesh  conflicts  with  you  for ;  it  is  no 
 less  than  for  the  immortal  soul,  as  the 
 Apostle  Peter  tells  you,  "  I  beseech  you  as 
 strangers  and  pilgrims,  abstain  from  fleshly 
 lusts  which  war  against  the  soul."  The 
 flesh  aims  to  damn  the  soul.  It  is  in  this 
 conflict  as  Ctesar  said  in  the  battle  he  had 
 once  in  Africa  with  the  children  and  par- 
 takers of  Pompey,  that  in  other  battles  he 
 was  wont  to  fight  for  glory,  but  there  and 
 then  he  was  obliged  to  fight  for  his  life. 
 Remember  thy  precious  soul  lies  at  stake 
 in  this  conflict.  Christopher  Love. 
 
352 
 
 ILESH— FOLLY. 
 
 FLT:SH— Definition  of. 
 
 By  flesh  is  to  be  understood,  the  corrup- 
 tion of  man's  nature  by  original  sin ;  which 
 corruption  may  be  understood,  either  as  a 
 habit  or  as  an  act.  If  you  consider  the 
 flesh  as  a  habit,  then  it  notes  that  primitive, 
 radical,  and  original  indisposition  in  man's 
 nature  to  gooch  But  if  it  be  taken  as  an 
 act,  then  it  notes  our  corruptions  against 
 grace,  and  so  I  take  it  in  this  place  (Gal. 
 V,  17).  Christojjher  Love. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 "God's  thoughts  of  Beauty  taking  form 
 To  gladden  mortal  gaze." 
 
 Visible  music ;  God's  love-tokens ;  living 
 poetry;  Eve's  playthings;  earth's  orna- 
 ments ;  Flora's  children ;  Relics  of  Eden's 
 bowers;  a  mother's  bright  reward;  buds 
 to  bloom  in  the  promised  land ;  God's 
 smiles  come  down  to  us ;  Stars  of  the 
 earth;  glowing  praises;  silent  sermons; 
 nature's  jewelry ;  parables  for  the  eye ; 
 commentaries  on  "  Passing  away  "  (James 
 i,  10,  11);  emblems  of  our  own  bright 
 resurrection. 
 
 "  Bright   gems  of  earth,  in   which,  per- 
 chance we  see 
 "W'hat  Eden  was — what  Paradise  may  be." 
 Anon. 
 
 FL0"WEIIS— in  Childhood. 
 
 Flowers  are  among  the  first  objects  that 
 forcibly  attract  the  attention  of  young 
 children,  becoming  to  them  the  source  of 
 gratifications  which  are  among  the  purest 
 of  which  our  nature  is  capable,  and  of 
 whi(!h  even  the  indistinct  recollection 
 imparts  a  fleeting  pleasure  to  the  most 
 cheerless  moments  of  after  life.  Kidd. 
 
 FLOWEES— Early. 
 
 There  is  to  me 
 A  daintiness  about  these  early  flowers. 
 That  touches  me  like  poetry.     They  blow 
 
 out 
 "V\''ith  such  a  simple  loveliness  among 
 The  common  herbs  of  pastures,  and  breathe 
 Their  lives  so  unobtrusively,  like  hearts 
 'Whose   beatings   ai-e   too    gentle   for  the 
 
 world.  N.  F.  Willis. 
 
 FLO"WEES— Everywhere. 
 
 Everywhere  about  us  are  they  glowing, 
 Some  like  stars,  to  tell  us  spring  is  born ; 
 
 Others,  their  blue   eyes  with   tears   o'er- 
 flowing. 
 Stand  like  Ruth  amid  the  golden  corn. 
 
 In  all  places,  then,  and  in  all  seasons, 
 Flowers  expand  their  light  and  soul-like 
 wings. 
 
 Teaching  us,  by  most  persuasive  reasons, 
 How  akin  they  are  to  human  things. 
 
 And  with  child-like,  credulous  afl'ection 
 We  behold  their  tender  buds  expand; 
 
 Emblems  of  our  own  great  resurrection. 
 Emblems  of  the  bright  and  better  land. 
 LonfjfeUom. 
 
 Oh !    the  flowers  look   upward   in   every 
 place. 
 Through  this  beautiful  world  of  ours. 
 And,  dear  as  a  smile  on  an  old  friend's 
 face. 
 Is  the  smile  of  the  bright,  bright  flowers ! 
 N.  P.  Willis. 
 
 PLOY/ERS— Goodness  of  God  in. 
 
 Methinks,  if  tliere  were  no  other  proofs 
 in  the  world  of  God's  goodness,  the  flowers 
 would  supply  them  in  abundance.  Answer 
 it  to  thyself,  poor  soul,  that  doubtest  of 
 His  love,  that  darest  not  trust  the  voice 
 in  thine  own  heart  telling  thee  that  thy 
 Father  in  heaven  is  all  which  that  heart 
 can  adore.  Why  has  He  made  these 
 flowers  ?  why  does  He  send  to  thee  these 
 little  joys,  as  gentle  and  unnoticed  often 
 as  a  mother's  kiss  upon  a  sleeping  child  ? 
 There  is  not,  it  would  seem,  a  conceivable 
 reason  to  be  given  for  the  existence  of 
 flowers  (at  least  for  their  beauty  and  per- 
 fume), other  than  the  intention  to  provide 
 for  a  man  a  pure  and  most  delicate  pleasure. 
 Geologists  tell  us  that  in  the  earlier  epochs 
 there  are  few  traces  of  flowers;  such  as 
 there  were  being  small,  and  probably  of 
 the  secondary  colours,  mere  vessels  for  the 
 ripening  of  the  seeds.  Only  when  the 
 human  era  approached  the  order  of  the 
 rosacese  appeared,  the  fruit-trees  with  their 
 luxurious  Ijurdens,  and  all  our  brightest 
 and  sweetest  flowers,  till  "the  wilderness 
 rejoiced  and  blossomed  as  the  rose." 
 
 Miss  Cohbe. 
 
 Flowers  are  the  smiles  of  God's  goodness. 
 Wilberjorce. 
 FLOWERS— Universal  Love  of. 
 
 How  the  universal  heart  of  man  blesses 
 flowers!  They  are  wreathed  round  the 
 cradle,  the  marriage  altar,  and  the  tomb. 
 The  Persian  in  the  far-east  delights  in 
 their  perfume,  and  writes  his  love  in  nose- 
 gays ;  while  the  Indian  child  of  the  far 
 west  claps  his  hands  with  glee  as  he 
 gathers  the  abundant  blossoms.  The 
 cupid  of  the  ancient  Hindoos  tipped  his 
 arrows  with  flowers,  and  orange-flowers 
 are  a  bridal  crown  with  us — a  nation  of 
 yesterday.  Flowers  garlanded  the  Grecian 
 altar,  and  hung  in  votive  wreath  before 
 the  Christian  shrine.  Mrs.  Child. 
 
 FOLLY— Definition  of. 
 
 Folly  consists  in  the  drawing  of  false 
 conclusions  from  just  principles,  by  which 
 it   is   distinguished   from   madness,  which 
 
FOLLY— FORGIVENESS. 
 
 353 
 
 draws  just   conclusions   from   false   prin- 
 ciples. Locke. 
 
 FOLLY— Displaying. 
 
 If  you  are  subject  to  any  secret  folly, 
 blab  it  not,  lest  you  appear  impudent ;  nor 
 boast  of  it,  lest  you  seem  insolent;  for 
 every  man's  vanity  ought  to  be  his  greatest 
 shame,  and  every  man's  folly  ought  to  be 
 his  greatest  secret.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 FOLLY  AND  INNOCENCE. 
 
 Folly  and  innocence  are  so  alike, 
 
 The  difference,  though   essential,  fails  to 
 
 strike ; 
 Yet  Folly  ever  has  a  vacant  stare, 
 A  simpering  countenance,  and  a  trifling  air ; 
 But  Innocence,  sedate,  serene,  erect. 
 Delights  us  by  engaging  our  respect. 
 
 Coivper. 
 FOOLS— Found  out. 
 Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot 
 
 die.  Young. 
 
 FOOLS — Presumption  of. 
 For  fools  rush   in  where   angels   fear  to 
 tread.  Fope. 
 
 FOOLS— Three. 
 
 I  will  show  you  three  fools.  One  is 
 yonder  soldier,  who  has  been  wounded  on 
 the  field  of  battle,— grievously  wounded, 
 well-nigh  unto  death.  Tlie  surgeon  is  by 
 his  side,  and  the  soldier  asks  him  a  ques- 
 tion.  Listen,  and  judge  of  his  folly! 
 What  question  does  he  ask  ?  Does  he 
 raise  his  eyes  with  eager  anxiety,  and  in- 
 quire if  the  wound  be  mortal ;  if  the  prac- 
 titioner's skill  can  suggest  the  means  of 
 healing;  or  if  the  remedies  are  within 
 reach,  and  the  medicine  at  hand?  No; 
 nothing  of  the  sort.  Strange  to  tell,  he 
 asks,  "  Can  you  inform  me  with  what 
 sword  I  was  wounded,  and  by  what  Rus- 
 sian I  have  been  thus  grievously  mauled  ? 
 I  want,"  he  adds,  "  to  learn  every  minute 
 particular  respecting  the  origin  of  my 
 wound."  The  man  is  delirious — his  head 
 is  affected !  Surely  such  questions  at  such 
 a  time  are  proof  enough  that  he  is  bereft 
 of  his  senses. 
 
 There  is  another  fool.  The  storm  is 
 raging,  the  ship  is  flying  impetuously  be- 
 fore the  gale,  the  dark  scud  moves  swiftly 
 overhead,  the  masts  are  creaking,  the  sails 
 are  rent  to  rags,  and  still  the  gathering 
 tempest  grows  more  fierce.  Where  is  the 
 captain  ?  Is  he  busily  engaged  on  the 
 deck  ?  Is  he  manfully  facing  the  danger, 
 and  skilfully  suggesting  means  to  avert 
 it?  No,  sir,  he  has  retired  to  his  cabin; 
 and  there,  with  studious  thoughts  and 
 crazy  fancies,  he  is  speculating  on  the 
 place  where  the  storm  took  its  rise.  "It  is 
 mysterious  this  wind :  no  one  ever  yet," 
 
 he  says,  "  has  been  able  to  discover  it." 
 And  so,  reckless  of  the  vessel,  the  lives  of 
 the  passengers,  and  his  own  life,  he  is 
 careful  only  to  solve  his  curious  question. 
 The  man  is  mad,  sir  :  take  the  rudder  from 
 his  hand :  he  is  clean  gone  mad. 
 
 The  third  fool  I  shall  doubtless  find 
 among  yourselves.  You  are  sick  and 
 wounded  with  sin ;  you  are  in  the  storm 
 and  hurricane  of  Almighty  vengeance ;  and 
 yet  the  question  which  you  would  ask  of 
 me  this  morning  would  be:  "Sir,  what  is 
 the  origin  of  evil?"  You  are  mad,  sirs, 
 spiritually  mad.  That  is  not  the  question 
 you  would  ask  if  you  were  in  a  sane  and 
 healthy  state  of  miiid.  Your  question  would 
 be,  "How  can  I  get  rid  of  the  evil?"  Not, 
 "  How  did  it  come  into  the  world  ?"  but, 
 "  How  am  I  to  escape  from  it  ?"  Not, 
 "  How  is  it  that  fire  descended  from  heaven 
 upon  Sodom?"  but,  "How  may  I,  like 
 Lot,  escape  out  of  the  city  to  a  Zoar  ? " 
 Not,  "How  is  it  that  I  am  sick?"  but, 
 "  Are  there  medicines  that  will  heal  me  ? 
 Is  there  a  physician  to  be  found  that  can 
 restore  my  soul  to  health?"  Ah!  you 
 trifle  with  subtleties,  while  you  neglect 
 certainties.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 FORESIGHT— Divine.. 
 
 It  has  been  adduced  as  a  striking  illus- 
 tration of  the  Divine  foresight,  that  the 
 season  of  the  birth  of  the  young  of  certain 
 animals  should  be  adjusted  to  the  season  of 
 the  year,  and  to  the  period  of  the  food 
 most  conducive  to  its  well-being ;  the  pre- 
 paration for  the  birth  of  the  animal,  and 
 the  preparation  for  the  birth  of  its  food 
 (say  the  larvse  of  insects),  dating  from 
 very  different  points  of  time.  Mc  Cosh. 
 
 FORETHOUGHT  AND  REFLECTION. 
 
 It  is  at  once  the  disgrace  and  the  misery 
 of  men,  that  they  live  without  forethought. 
 Suppose  yourself  fronting  a  mirror.  Now 
 what  the  objects  behind  you  are  to  their 
 images  at  the  same  apparent  distance  be- 
 fore you,  such  is  reflection  to  forethought. 
 As  a  man  without  forethought  scarcely  de- 
 serves the  name  of  a  man,  so  foreth-"ught 
 without  reflection  is  but  a  metaphoiical 
 phrase  for  the  instinct  of  a  beast. 
 
 S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 FORGIVENESS— Christian. 
 
 It  has  been  reckoned  a  wise  and  witty 
 answer  which  one  of  the  philosophers  re- 
 turned to  his  friend,  who  advised  him  to 
 revenge  an  injury  that  had  been  done  to 
 him  :  "What,"  says  he,  "  if  an  ass  kick  me, 
 must  I  needs  kick  him  again  ?"  And  per- 
 haps there  is  more  wit  than  wisdom  in  that 
 reply.  It  seems,  indeed,  to  carry  in  it 
 something  of  a  true  greatness  of  mind; 
 but  does  it  not  at  the  same  time  discover  a 
 kind  of  haugiity  and  contemptuous  spirit  ? 
 
354 
 
 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 The  truth  is,  as  a  judicious  writer  observes 
 upon  it,  "  It  is  at  best  but  a  lame  and  mis- 
 sliapen  charity ;  it  has  more  of  pride  than 
 of  goodness.  We  should  learn  of  the  holy- 
 Jesus,  who  was  not  only  meek,  but  lowly. 
 We  should  contemn  the  injury,  and  pity 
 the  weakness;  but  should  not  disdain  or 
 despise  the  persons  of  our  enemies. — 'Cha- 
 rity vaunteth  not  herself,  is  not  puffed 
 up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly.' " 
 
 Mason. 
 FORGIVENESS— Divide. 
 Kind  hearts  are  here,  yet  would  the  ten- 
 
 derest  one 
 Have  limits  to  its  mercy,  God  has  none  ; 
 But  man's  forgiveness  may  be  true  and 
 
 sweet. 
 But  yet  he  stoops  to  give  it;  more  com- 
 plete 
 Is  love  that  lays  forgiveness  at  thy  feet 
 And  pleads  with  thee   to  raise  it;    only 
 
 •heaven 
 Means  crowned,  not  vanquished,  when  it 
 says  "  Forgiven."  A.  A.  Procter. 
 
 The  Eev.  Peter  Jones,  a  converted  In- 
 dian chief,  from  America,  when  in  this 
 country — after  describing  his  pierced  and 
 wounded  condition  under  conviction  fur 
 sin  as  a  stricken  deer  who  left  the  herd 
 to  die — said  of  the  sensations  of  new  life 
 experienced  by  him  on  the  day  of  his  sal- 
 vation :  "  On  that  day  the  world  seemed 
 all  fresh  and  new  to  me.  It  seemed  like  a 
 new  creation.  I  looked  around,  and  the 
 trees  and  the  fields  were  so  green — the 
 lake  -vns  so  blue — the  sunshine  so  bright 
 — tile  sky  was  so  glad.  Oh,  that  was  a 
 handsome  day  on  which  God  for  Christ's 
 sake  forgave  my  sins !"  Dr.  Johson. 
 
 FORGIVENESS— Effects  of. 
 
 In  the  garrison  town  of  Woolwich,  a  few 
 years  ago,  a  soldier  was  about  to  be  brought 
 before  the  commanding  officer  of  the  regi- 
 ment for  some  misdemeanor.  The  officer 
 entering  the  soldier's  name  said,  "  Here  is 
 
 again.     What  can  we  do  with  him  ! 
 
 He  has  gone  through  almost  every  ordeal." 
 The  serjeant-major,  M.  B.,  apologised  for 
 intruding,  and  said,  "There  is  one  thing 
 that  has  never  been  done  with  him  yet, 
 sir."  "What  is  that,  serjeant-major?" 
 "  Well,  sir,  he  has  never  yet  been  forgiven." 
 "Forgiven!"  said  the  colonel;  "here  is 
 his  case  entered."  "  Yes,  but  the  man  is 
 not  before  you  yet,  and  you  can  cancel 
 it."  After  the  colonel  had  reflected  a  few 
 minutes  he  ordered  the  man  to  be  brought 
 before  him ;  when  he  was  asked  what  he 
 had  to  say  relative  to  the  charges  brought 
 against  him, — "Nothing,  sir,"  was  the 
 reply ;  "  only  that  I  am  sorry  for  what  I 
 have  done."  After  making  some  suitable 
 remarks,  the  colonel  said,  "  Well,  we  are 
 resolved  to  forgive  you."     The  soldier  was 
 
 struck  with  astonishment ;  the  tears  started 
 from  his  eyes ;  he  wept.  The  colonel,  with 
 the  adjutant  and  the  others  present,  felt 
 deeply  when  they  saw  the  man  so  humbled. 
 The  soldier  thanked  the  colonel  for  his 
 kindness,  and  retired.  The  narrator  had 
 the  soldier  under  his  notice  for  two  years 
 and  a  half  after  this,  and  never,  during 
 that  time,  was  there  a  charge  brought 
 against  him,  or  fault  found  with  him. 
 Mercy  triumphed ;  kindness  conqxiered ! 
 The  man  was  won  !  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 FORGIVENESS -of  Enemies. 
 
 "  What  can  Jesus  Christ  do  for  you 
 now?"  said  an  inhuman  slave  master, 
 when  in  the  act  of  applying  the  lacerating 
 whip  to  an  already  half-murdered  slave. 
 "  Him  teach  me  to  forgive  you,  massa," 
 was  his  reply.  Philips. 
 
 When  on  the  fragrant  sandal  tree 
 
 The  woodman's  axe  descends. 
 
 And  she  who  bloomed  so  beauteously, 
 
 Beneath  the  weapon  bends, 
 
 E'en  on  the  edge  that  wrought  her  death, 
 
 Dying  she  breathes  her  sweetest  breath. 
 
 As  if  to  token  in  her  fall 
 
 Peace  to  her  foes,  and  love  to  all. 
 
 How  hardly  man  this  lesson  learns, 
 
 To  smile,  and  bless  the  hand  that  spurns ; 
 
 To  see  the  blow,  to  feel  the  pain. 
 
 And  render  only  love  again  ! 
 
 One  had  it — but  He  came  from  heaven, 
 
 Keviled,  rejected,  and  betrayed; 
 
 No  curse  He  breathed,  no  plaint  He  made. 
 
 But  when  in  death's  dark  pang  He  sighed. 
 
 Prayed  for  His  murderers,  and  died. 
 
 Udmonston. 
 FORGIVENESS -of  Others. 
 
 He  that  cannot  forgive  others,  breaks 
 the  bridge  over  which  he  must  pass  him- 
 self; for  every  man  has  need  to  be  forgiven. 
 Lord  Herbert. 
 
 When  thou  forgivest,  the  man  who  has 
 pierced  thy  heart  stands  to  thee  in  the  re- 
 lation of  the  sea-worm,  that  perforates  the 
 shell  of  the  mussel,  which  straightway 
 closes  the  wound  with  a  pearl.        Michter. 
 
 It  is  vain  for  you  to  expect,  it  is  impu- 
 dent for  you  to  ask  of  God  forgiveness 
 on  your  own  behalf,  if  you  refuse  to  exer- 
 cise this  forgiving  temper  with  resjiect  to 
 others.  Hoadley. 
 
 You  should  forgive  many  things  in 
 others,  but  nothing  in  yourself.   Ausonius. 
 
 To  have  the  power  to  forgive. 
 Is  empire  and  prerogative. 
 And  'tis  in  crowns  a  no'nler  gem 
 To  grant  a  pardon  than  condemn. 
 
 £t(tler. 
 
FORGIVENESS— FORMALISM. 
 
 355 
 
 FORGIVENESS— of  Others. 
 
 Kneel  not  to  me : 
 The  power  that  I  have  on  you  is  to  spare 
 
 you ; 
 The  malice  towards  you,  to  forgive  you ; 
 
 live, 
 And  deal  with  others  better. 
 
 ShaJcespeare. 
 FORGIVENESS— Rule  of. 
 
 In  the  middle  ages,  when  the  great  lords 
 and  knights  were  always  at  war  with  each 
 other,  one  of  them  resolved  to  revenge  him- 
 self upon  a  neighbour  who  had  ollended 
 him.  It  chanceil  that  on  the  very  even- 
 ing when  he  had  made  this  resolution,  he 
 heard  that  his  enemy  was  to  pass  near 
 his  castle,  with  only  a  few  men  with  him. 
 It  was  a  good  opportunity  to  take  his  re- 
 venge, and  he  determined  not  to  let  it 
 pass.  He  spoke  of  this  plan  in  the  pre- 
 sence of  his  chaplain,  who  tried  in  vain  to 
 persuade  him  to  give  it  up.  The  good 
 man  said  a  great  deal  to  the  duke  about 
 the  sin  of  what  he  was  going  to  do,  but  in 
 vain.  At  length,  seeing  that  all  his  words 
 had  no  effect,  he  said,  "  My  lord,  since  I 
 cannot  persuade  you  to  give  up  this  plan 
 of  yours,  will  you  at  least  consent  to  come 
 with  me  to  the  chapel,  that  we  may  pray 
 together  before  yon  go  ?"  The  duke  con- 
 sented, and  the  chaplain  and  he  knelt 
 together  in  prayer.  Then  the  mercy- 
 loving  Christian  said  to  the  revengelul 
 warrior,  "Will  you  repeat  after  me,  sen- 
 tence by  sentence,  the  prayer  which  onr 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ  Himself  taught  to  His 
 disciples  ?" 
 
 "  I  will  do  it,"  replied  the  duke. 
 
 He  did  it  accordingly.  The  chaplain 
 said  a  sentence,  and  the  duke  repeated  it, 
 till  he  came  to  the  petition,  "  Forgive  us 
 our  tresp.isses,  as  we  forgive  them  that 
 trespass  against  us."  There  the  duke  was 
 silent. 
 
 "  My  lord  duke,  you  are  silent,"  said 
 the  chaplain.  "  Will  you  be  so  good  as  to 
 continue  to  repeat  the  words  after  me,  if 
 you  dare  say  so  ? — '  Forgive  us  our  tres- 
 passes, as  ive  forgive  them  that  trespass 
 against  us.'  " 
 
 "  I  cannot,"  replied  the  duke. 
 
 "  Well,  God  cannot  forgive  you,  for  He 
 has  said  so.  He  Himself  has  given  this 
 prayer.  Therefore  you  must  either  give 
 up  your  revenge,  or  give  up  saying  this 
 prayer ;  for  to  ask  God  to  pardon  you  as 
 you  pardon  others,  is  to  ask  Him  to  take 
 vengeance  on  you  for  all  your  sins.  Go 
 now,  my  lord,  and  meet  your  victim.  God 
 will  meet  you  at  the  great  day  of  judg- 
 ment." 
 
 The  iron  will  of  the  duke  was  broken. 
 
 "  No,"  said  he,  "  I  will  finish  my  prayer : 
 — "My  God,  my  Father,  pardon  me :  for- 
 give me  as  I  desire  to  forgive   him  who 
 
 has  offended  me ;  lead  me  not  into  temp- 
 tation, but  deliver  me  from  evil !" 
 
 "  Amen,"  said  the  chaplain. 
 
 "  Amen,"  repeated  the  duke,  who  now 
 understood  the  Lord's  prayer  better  than 
 he  had  ever  done  before,  since  he  had 
 learned  to  apply  it  to  himself.  Anon. 
 
 FORGIVENESS— An  Ugly. 
 
 There  is  an  ugly  kind  of  forgiveness  in 
 this  world — a  kind  of  hedgehog  forgiveness, 
 shot  out  like  quills.  Men  take  one  who 
 has  offended,  and  set  him  down  before  the 
 blowpipe  of  their  indignation,  and  scorch 
 him,  and  burn  his  fault  into  him ;  and 
 when  they  have  kneaded  him  sufficiently 
 with  their  fiery  fists,  then — they  forgive 
 him.  E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 FORMALISM— Acquiring. 
 
 It  is  so  easy  to  be  orthodox  in  creed  and 
 statement;  so  safe  to  rest  in  a  merely  tra- 
 ditional belief,  that  many  a  decorous  Chris- 
 tian fails  to  perceive  the  sure  though  in- 
 visible connection  between  the  lip-confes- 
 sion and  the  life-denial  of  a  merely  outward 
 profession,  and  the  broader  form  of  denial 
 by  which  all  such  profession  is  decided. 
 Yet  between  Christ  mocked  and  Christ  re- 
 jected there  is  but  a  single  step;  and  who 
 shall  say  how  easily  it  is  taken,  or  how 
 quickly  we  may  pass  from  the  hollow 
 homage,  the  "  Hail,  Master,"  which  mocks 
 our  Lord,  to  the  smiting  and  buffeting  of 
 open  outrage !  Anon. 
 
 FORMALISM— Character  of. 
 
 Formalism  is  the  tendency  of  the  mind 
 to  rest  in  the  mere  externals  of  religion,  to 
 the  neglect  of  the  inner  life  of  religion 
 itself.  It  is  just  as  when  a  child  runs  his 
 lesson  rapidly  over  without  heeding  the 
 import  of  the  story  which  he  reads.  It  is 
 just  as  if  our  knowledge  of  a  man  was 
 confined  to  his  stature,  to  the  shape  and 
 colour  of  his  coat ;  so  that  when  his  name 
 is  mentioned  in  our  presence,  we  immedi- 
 ately think  of  his  size  and  dress,  but 
 notliing  more.  It  is  the  folly  of  valuing 
 the  tree  for  its  bark,  instead  of  its  goodly 
 timber ;  the  folly  of  choosing  a  book  for 
 its  binding,  irrespective  of  the  nature  of 
 its  contents ;  the  folly  of  delighting  in 
 painted  windows  and  adorned  walls, regard- 
 less of  the  character  of  the  society  and  the 
 accommodation  within.  It  is  the  very 
 essence  of  formalism  to  set  the  outward 
 institutions  above  the  inward  truths,  to  be 
 punctilious  in  going  the  round  of  cere- 
 monial observances  while  neglectful  of  those 
 spiritual  sacrifices  with  wliich  God  is  well 
 pleased,  to  substitute  means  in  the  room  of 
 ends,  and  to  i-est  in  the  type  and  symbol 
 without  rising  to  the  glorious  reality.  It 
 will  stand  up  for  the  skeleton  creed  though 
 the  life  be  as  little  inlluenced  by  it  as  by 
 
356 
 
 FORMALISM— rORTUNE. 
 
 a  mummy ;  it  will  in  the  strength  of  its 
 zeal  put  on  armour,  brandish  weapons, 
 guard  the  courts  of  the  sanctuary  from  un- 
 hiillowed  intrusion,  and  shout  lustily,  "  The 
 temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord 
 are  we ;"  while  it  lacks  heart  for  fighting 
 the  good  fight  of  faith,  and  wrestling  with 
 spiritual  wickedness.  The  Church  and  the 
 sacraments,  the  symbol  and  the  lettered 
 creed,  fill  the  sphere  of  its  vision,  and  draw 
 forth  its  devotion,  to  the  almost  utter  exclu- 
 sion of  those  grand  spiritual  objects  that  are 
 unseen  and  eternal.  Such,  in  general,  is  the 
 character  of  formalism.  T.  Fearson. 
 
 FOEMALISM— Lifelessness  of. 
 
 The  artist  may  mould  matter  into  forms 
 of  enrapturing  beauty,  and  make  us  feel 
 their  elevating  and  purifying  influences; 
 but  what  is  the  marble  Moses  of  a  Michael 
 Angelo,  or  the  cold  statue  of  his  living 
 Christ,  compared  to  the  embodiment  of  the 
 Hebrew  law  and  the  spirit  of  Jesus  in  the 
 sculpture  of  a  holy  life?  What  are  all 
 the  forms  of  moral  beauty  in  the  Pharisee 
 of  religion,  compared  with  the  true  and 
 holy  life  of  the  heart  of  the  devoted  Chris- 
 tian ?  Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 FORMALISM  AND  EVANGELISM. 
 
 Formalism  says,  we  who  fast  so  often, 
 pray  so  fervently,  and  attend  on  the  sacra- 
 ments so  punctually,  are  God's  people. 
 Evangelism  replies,  "  He  is  not  a  Jew 
 which  is  one  outwardly ;  neither  is  that 
 circumcision  which  is  outward  in  the 
 flesh ;  but  he  is  a  Jew  which  is  one  in- 
 wardly ;  and  circumcision  is  that  of  the 
 heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter  ; 
 •whose  praise  is  not  of  men,  but  of  God." 
 The  one  says,  baptism  is  regeneration; 
 only  be  baptized,  come  to  the  sacramental 
 table,  and  ye  shall  be  saved.  The  other 
 says,  "  Neither  circumcision  availeth  any- 
 thing, nor  uncircumcision,  but  a  new  crea- 
 ture." T.  Fearson. 
 
 FORMS— Design  of. 
 
 Forms  were  designed  by  Him  who 
 knoweth  our  frame  to  be  the  means  by 
 which  we  might  ascend  to  the  enjoyment 
 of  Himself.  But  when  the  mind  halts  in 
 the  symbol,  instead  of  rising  from  it  to  the 
 thing  signified ;  when  the  man  runs  up 
 and  down  the  ladder,  instead  of  reaching 
 the  eminence  which  commands  the  glorious 
 prospect,  he  loses  the  enjoyment  insepa- 
 rable from  intercourse  with  t^e  blissful 
 reality.  Ibid. 
 
 FORiiTITUDE— Definition  of. 
 
 Fortitude  is  sometimes  taken  in  a  large 
 sense  to  denote  that  constancy  of  mind, 
 which  is  conspicuous  not  only  in  under- 
 taking of  difficult  enterprises,  but  likewise 
 in  bearing  of  hardships,  and  thus  it  io- 
 
 cludes  patience.  Sometimes  it  is  taken  in 
 a  stricter  sense  to  denote  that  particular 
 virtue  whereby  a  man  contemns  dangers, 
 and  undauntedly  sets  upon  some  daring 
 undertaking.  Limboreh. 
 
 Christian  fortitude  may  be  defined  that 
 state  of  mind  which  arises  from  truth  and 
 confidence  in  God ;  enables  us  to  stand 
 collected  and  undisturbed  in  the  time  of 
 diflSculty  and  danger ;  and  is  at  an  equal 
 distance  from  rashness  on  the  one  hand, 
 and  pusillanimity  on  the  other.       C.  Buck. 
 
 FORTITUDE— Different  Names  of. 
 
 Fortitude  takes  different  names,  accord- 
 ing as  it  acts  in  opposition  to  different 
 evils ;  but  some  of  those  names  are  applied 
 with  considerable  latitude.  With  respect 
 to  danger  in  general,  fortitude  has  been 
 called  intrepidity ;  with  respect  to  the 
 dangers  of  war,  valour ;  with  respect  to 
 pain  of  body,  or  distressof  mind,  joa^i'eHce/ 
 with  respect  to  labour,  activity;  with 
 respect  to  injury,  forbearance ;  with  re- 
 spect to  our  condition  in  general,  mag- 
 nanimity. Ibid. 
 
 FORTITUDE— True. 
 
 It  is  true  fortitude  to  stand  firm  against 
 All  shocks  of  fate,  when  cowards  faint  and 
 
 die 
 In  fear,  to  sufi^er  more  calamity. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 FORTITUDE  AND  COURAGE. 
 
 Courage  resists  danger,  fortitude  sup- 
 ports pain.  Courage  may  be  a  virtue  or 
 vice,  according  to  the  circumstances  ;  forti- 
 tude is  always  a  virtue :  we  speak  of  des- 
 perate courage,  but  not  of  desperate  forti- 
 tude. A  contempt  or  neglect  of  danger 
 may  be  called  courage ;  but  fortitude  is 
 the  virtue  of  a  rational  and  considerate 
 mind,  and  is  founded  in  a  sense  of  honour 
 and  a  regard  to  duty.  C.  Buck. 
 
 FORTUNE— Caprice  of. 
 
 It  is  with  fortune  as  with  fantastical 
 mistresses — she  makes  sport  with  those 
 that  are  ready  to  die  for  her,  and  throws 
 herself  at  the  feet  of  others  that  despise 
 her.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 FORTUNE— Favorites  of. 
 
 There  are  some  men  who  are  fortune's 
 favorites,  and  who,  like  cats,  light  for  ever 
 upon  their  legs ;  Wilkes  was  one  of  these 
 didappers,  whom,  if  you  had  stripped  naked 
 and  thrown  over  Westminster  bridge,  you 
 might  have  met  on  the  very  next  day,  with 
 a  bag  wig  on  his  head,  a  sword  by  his  side, 
 a  laced  coat  upon  his  back,  and  money  iu 
 his  pocket.  C.  Colton. 
 
FORTUNE— FRETFULNESS. 
 
 357 
 
 FORTUNE— Gifts  of. 
 
 Tlie  old  Scythians 
 Painted   blind  Fortune's   powerful  hands 
 
 with  wings. 
 To  show  her  gifts  come  swift  and  suddenly. 
 Which,    if  her  favorite  be  not   swift  to 
 
 take 
 He  loses  them  for  ever.  Chapman. 
 
 FORTUNE— Influence  of. 
 
 The  generality  of  men  sink  in  virtue  as 
 they  rise  in  fortune.  How  many  hopeful 
 young  men,  by  a  sudden  accession  of  a 
 godd  estate,  have  deviated  i)ito  debauchery, 
 and  general  looseness  of  life. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 FORTUNE— Ways  of. 
 Will  Fortune  never  come  with  both  hands 
 
 full. 
 But  write  her  fair  words  still  in  foulest 
 
 letters  ? 
 She  either  gives  a  stomach  and  no  food, — 
 Such  are  the  poor  in  health  ;  or  else  a  feast. 
 And  takes  away  the  stomach, — such  the 
 
 rich. 
 That  have  abundance  and  enjoy  it  not. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 FRAUDS— Hiding. 
 
 Some  frauds  succeed  from  the  apparent 
 candour,  the  open  confidence,  and  the  full 
 blaze  of  ingenuousness  that  is  thrown 
 around  them.  The  slightest  mystery 
 would  excite  suspicion,  and  ruin  all.  Such 
 stratagems  may  be  compared  to  the  stars  : 
 they  are  discoverable  by  darkness,  and 
 hidden  only  by  light.  C.  Colton. 
 
 FREE-AGENT— Definition  of. 
 
 When  we  say  that  man  is  a  free-agent, 
 we  mean, 
 
 1.  That,  being  a  spirit,  he  originates 
 action.  Matter  acts  only  as  it  is  acted  upon : 
 a  man  acts  from  the  spring  of  his  own 
 active  power. 
 
 2.  That  although  a  man  may  be  forced 
 by  fear  to  will  and  to  do  many  things 
 which  he  would  neither  will  nor  do  if  it 
 were  not  for  the  fear,  yet  he  never  can  be 
 made  to  will  what  he  does  not  himself  de- 
 sire to  will,  in  full  view  of  all  the  circum- 
 stances of  the  case. 
 
 3.  That  he  is  furnished  with  a  reason  to 
 distinguish  between  the  true  and  the  false, 
 and  with  a  conscience,  the  organ  of  an  in- 
 nate law,  to  distinguish  between  right  and 
 wrong,  in  order  that  his  desires  may  be 
 both  rational  and  righteous.  And  yet  his 
 desires  are  not  necessarily  either  rational 
 or  righteous,  but  are  formed  under  the 
 light  of  reason  and  conscience,  either  con- 
 formable or  contrary  to  them,  according  to 
 the  permanent,  habitual  dispositions  of  the 
 man ;   i.  e.  according  to  his  own  character, 
 
 A,  A.  Hodge. 
 
 FREEDOM— True. 
 
 It  is  a  freedom  from  the  servitude  of 
 sin,  from  the  seduction  of  a  misguurded 
 judgment,  and  the  allurement  of  any  en- 
 snaring forbidden  object ;  consisting  in  an 
 unbounded  amplitude  and  enlargedness  of 
 soul  towards  God,  and  indetermination  to 
 any  inferior  good  ;  resulting  from  an  en- 
 tire subjection  to  the  Divine  will,  a  sub- 
 mission to  the  order  of  God,  and  steady 
 adherence  to  Him.  John  Howe. 
 
 "He  is  free  that  lives  as  he  will,"  from 
 Cicero,  insisted  on  by  St.  Augustine ;  that 
 is,  who  neither  wishes  anything,  nor  fears 
 anything;  who  in  all  things  acquiesces  in 
 the  will  of  God ;  who  minds  nothing  but 
 his  own  things,  and  accounts  nothing  his 
 own  but  God;  who  savours  nothing  but 
 God;  who  is  moved  only  by  the  will  of 
 God.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 Rejoice  in  your  liberty,  but  in  your  law- 
 ful liberty.  True  freedom  consists  with 
 the  observance  of  law.  Adam  was  as  free 
 in  Paradise  as  in  the  wilds  to  which  he 
 was  banished  for  his  transgression.  I  hold 
 that  true  freedom  and  the  observance  of 
 law  are  perfectly  consistent  with  each 
 other.  W.  L.  Thornton. 
 
 FREE-WILL  IN  MAN. 
 
 It  is  a  contradiction  to  let  man  be  free, 
 and  force  him  to  do  right.  God  has  per- 
 formed this  marvel  of  creating  a  being 
 with  fi-ee-will,  independent,  so  to  speak, 
 of  Himself — a  real  cause  in  His  universe. 
 To  say  that  He  has  created  such  a  one,  is 
 to  say  that  He  has  given  him  the  power  to 
 fail.  Without  free-will  there  could  be  no 
 human  goodness.  It  is  wise,  therefore, 
 and  good  in  God,  to  give  birth  to  free-will. 
 But  once  acknowledge  free-will  in  man, 
 and  the  origin  of  evil  does  not  lie  in  God. 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 FRETFULNESS— Cure  for. 
 
 I  think  silence  is  the  most  effectual  cure 
 for  fretfulness.  I  think  a  man  who  is 
 fretful  is  like  a  cloudy  day  that  cannot 
 rain ;  in  a  little  while  it  will  clear  off,  for 
 it  cannot  rain.  So  a  man  that  is  fretful 
 and  peevish  may  look  ugly ;  but  if  he  holds 
 his  mouth  tight,  and  gives  no  expression  to 
 it,  after  a  while  it  will  clear  up  — the  mind 
 will  get  in  another  quarter.  There  can  be 
 no  doubt  but  the  indulgence  and  expression 
 of  these  feelings  cultivates  them,  while 
 with  a  disposition  to  restrain  them  they 
 would  grow  weaker  and  weaker.        Anon. 
 
 FRETFULNESS— FoUy  of. 
 
 Two  gardeners,  who  were  neighbours, 
 had  their  crops  of  early  peas  killed  by 
 frost;  one  of  them  came  to  condole  with 
 
358 
 
 PKIEND— FEIENDSHIP. 
 
 the  other  on  tliis  misfortune.  "  Ah !"  cried 
 he,  "  how  unfortunate  we  have  been,  neigh- 
 bour !  do  you  know  I  have  done  notliing 
 but  fret  ever  since.  But  you  seem  to  have 
 a  fine  healthy  crop  coming  up  already; 
 what  are  these?"  "These!"  cried  the 
 other  gardener,  "  why,  these  are  what  I 
 sowed  immediately  after  ray  loss."  "  What! 
 coming  up  already?"  cried  the  fretter. 
 "Yes;  while  you  were  fretting,  I  was 
 ■working."  "  What !  don't  you  fret  when 
 you  have  a  loss?"  "Yes;  but  I  always 
 put  it  off  until  after  I  have  repaired  the 
 mischief."  "  Why,  then  you  have  no  need 
 to  fret  at  all."  '"True,"  replied  the  in- 
 dustrious gardener ;  "  aud  that's  the  very 
 reason."  Armne. 
 
 FRIEND— Definition  of  a. 
 
 W^hat  is  a  friend  but  one  whom  I  can 
 
 trust;  one  who,  in  sorrow's  hour,  will  mingle 
 
 his  tears  with  mine ;  one  on  whose  support 
 
 I  can  reckon  when  my  back  is  at  the  wall  ? 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 FEIEND— loss  of  a. 
 
 The  loss  of  my  friend,  as  it  shall  mode- 
 rately grieve  me,  so  it  shall  another  way 
 much  benefit  me,  in  recompence  of  his 
 want;  for  it  shall  make  me  think  more 
 often  and  seriously  of  earth  and  of  heaven. 
 Of  earth,  for  his  body  which  is  reposed  in 
 it ;  of  heaven,  for  his  soul  which  possesseth 
 it  before  me :  of  earth,  to  put  me  in  mind 
 of  my  like  frailty  and  mortality ;  of  heaven, 
 to  make  me  desire,  and  (after  a  sort)  emu- 
 late his  happiness  and  glory.        jBj;.  Hall. 
 
 Friend  after  friend  departs ; 
 
 Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend  ? 
 
 There  is  no  union  here  of  hearts 
 
 That  hath  not  here  an  end : 
 
 Were  this  frail  world  our  only  rest, 
 
 Living  or  dying,  none  were  blest. 
 
 There  is  a  world  above, 
 
 Where  parting  is  unknown  j 
 A  whole  eternity  of  love, 
 Form'd  for  the  good  alone : 
 And  faith  beholds  the  dying  here 
 Translated  to  that  happier  sph.ere. 
 
 Montgomery. 
 FEIENDS— Dying. 
 
 Our  dying  friends  are  pioneers,  to  smooth 
 Our  rugged  pass  to  death ;  to  break  those 
 
 bars 
 Of  terror  and  abhorrence,  nature  throws 
 Cross  our  obstructed  way;    and,  thus  to 
 
 make 
 Welcome,   as   safe,  our  port   from   every 
 
 storm. 
 Each  friend  snatch'd  from  us,  is  a  plume 
 Pluck'd  from  the  wing  of  human  vanity. 
 Which   makes  us   stoop   from   our   aerial 
 heights. 
 
 And,  damp'd  with  omen  of  our  own  de- 
 cease. 
 On  drooping  pinions  of  ambition  lower'd. 
 Just  skim  earth's  surface,  ere  we  break  it 
 up.  Young. 
 
 FRIEHDS— False. 
 
 Their  friendship  is  a  lui'king  snare. 
 
 Their  honour  but  an  idle  breath. 
 Their  smile,  the  smile  that  traitors  wear, 
 
 Their  love  is  hate,  their  life  is  death. 
 
 Anon, 
 FRIENDSHIP— Adversity  in. 
 
 Many  will  court  you  while  you  have 
 much  to  give;  when  you  need  to  receive, 
 the  number  of  your  friends  will  be  dimin- 
 ished, but  their  quality  will  be  improved. 
 Your  misfortune,  like  a  blast  of  wind  upon 
 the  thrashed  corn,  will  drive  the  chaff 
 away,  but  the  wheat  will  remain  where  it 
 was.  How  very  sweet  sometimes  is  the 
 human  friendship  that  remains  when  sore 
 adversity  has  sifted  it !  Arnot. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Boon  of. 
 Hail,  Friendship;  since  the  world  began. 
 Heaven's  kindest,  noblest  boon  for  man; 
 All  other  joys  with  meteor  fire 
 Quench'd  in  the  mists  of  time  expire; 
 But  thou,  unhurt  by  fortune's  blast, 
 Shin'st  brightest,  clearest,  at  the  last! 
 The  dreary  heart,  unwarmed  by  thee. 
 Broods  o'er  a  sullen  destiny ; 
 Heaven's  fairest  gift  would  fail  to  bless 
 That  cold  and  wintry  haunt  of  cheerless 
 selfishness.  Solford. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Christian. 
 
 When  Christianity  came  to  renew  our 
 nature,  and  to  restore  our  laws,  and  to  in- 
 crease her  privileges,  and  to  make  her  apt- 
 ness to  become  religon,  then  it  was  de- 
 clared that  our  friendships  were  to  be  uni- 
 versal as  our  conversation  ;  that  is,  actual 
 to  all  with  whom  we  converse,  and  po- 
 tentially extended  unto  those  with  whom 
 we  did  not.  For  he  who  was  to  treat  his 
 enemies  with  forgiveness  and  prayers,  and 
 love  and  beneficence,  was  indeed  to  have 
 no  enemies,  and  to  have  all  friends. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 FRIENDSHIP- Definitions  of. 
 
 Friendship  consists  properly  in  mutual 
 offices,  and  a  generous  strife  in  alternate 
 acts  of  kindness.  South. 
 
 Aristotle  defineth  friendship  to  be  a  love 
 
 of  another,  not  for  any  good  we  get,  but 
 
 merely  for  the  parties'  sake  who  is  beloved. 
 
 Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Fickleness  of. 
 
 What  is  sweeter  than  a  well-tuned  lute, 
 and  what  more  delightful  than  a  friend — 
 one  who  can  cheer  us  in  sorrow,  with  his 
 
TRIENDSHIP— FRIENDSHIP,  LOVE  AND  TRUTH. 
 
 359 
 
 wise  and  affectinnate  discourse  !  Nothing, 
 however,  is  sooner  untuned  than  a  lute; 
 and  nothing  is  more  fickle  than  human 
 friendship.  The  tone  of  the  one  changes 
 with  the  weather,  that  of  the  other  with 
 fortune.  With  a  clear  sky,  a  bright  sun, 
 and  a  gentle  breeze,  you  will  have  friends 
 in  plenty ;  but  let  fortune  frown,  and  the 
 firmament  be  overcast,  and  then  your 
 friends  will  prove  like  the  strings  of  the 
 lute,  of  which  you  will  tighten  ten  before 
 you  find  one  that  will  bear  the  stretch  and 
 keep  the  pitch.  Gotthold. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Fruit  of. 
 
 A  principiil  fruit  of  friendship  is  the  ease 
 and  discharge  of  the  fulness  of  the  heart, 
 which  p;issions  of  all  kinds  do  cause  and  in- 
 duce. We  know  diseases  of  stoppings  and 
 sulibcations  are  the  most  dangerous  in  the 
 body ;  and  it  is  not  much  otherwise  in  the 
 iiiind :  you  may  take  sarza  to  open  the 
 liver,  steel  to  open  the  spleen,  flour  of 
 sulphur  for  the  lungs,  castoreum  for  the 
 brain;  but  no  receipt  openeth  the  heart 
 but  a  true  friend  to  whom  you  may  impart 
 griefs,  joys,  fears,  hopes,  suspicions,  coun- 
 sels, and  whatsoever  lieth  upon  the  heart 
 to  oppress  it,  in  a  kind  of  civil  shrift  or 
 confession.  Bp.  Eei/nolds. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Growth  of. 
 
 But  we'll  grow  auld  togither,  an'  ne'er  find 
 
 The  loss  o'  youth,  when  love  grows  on  the 
 
 mind. 
 See  yon  twa  elms,  that  grow  up  side  by 
 
 side — 
 Suppose  them  some  years  syne  bridegroom 
 
 an'  bride; 
 Nearer  an'  nearer  ilka  year  they've  prest, 
 Till  wide  their  spreading  branches  are  in- 
 
 creas'd ; 
 An'  in  their  mixture  now  are  fully  blest. 
 This   shields   the   other    frae   the   eastlin 
 
 blast ; 
 That  in  return  defends  it  frae  the  wast. 
 
 Ramsay. 
 FRIENDSHIP- 
 
 And  what  is  friendship  but  a  name, 
 A  charm  that  lulls  to  sleep  ? 
 
 A  sound  that  follows  wealth  and  fame, 
 But  leaves  the  wretch  to  weep. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 FRIENDSHIP— Selfish. 
 
 A  number  of  mirrors  are  set  around  a 
 little  child.  He  looks  into  them  all  in 
 turn,  and  admires  each.  What  then  ?  does 
 he  think  the  mirrors  beautiful  ?  No ;  he 
 sees  and  admires  only  himself,  although, 
 in  his  childishness,  he  is  not  aware  that 
 the  beauty  which  draws  him  is  all  his  own. 
 Alas!  we  often  use  our  friends  only  as 
 looking-glasses  to  see  ourselves  in.  We 
 imagine  that  we  are  loving  them  because 
 wc  look  towards  them  while  we  love ;  but 
 
 it  is  the  reflection  of  our  own  Interests  all 
 the  time  that  leads  us  captive,  Arnot. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— Sinful. 
 
 Friendship  sealed  by  companionship  in 
 sin  will  not  last  long.  It  is  not  wortli 
 having.  It  deserves  not  to  be  known  by 
 that  noble  name.  Friends  that  are  glued 
 together  by  the  shine  of  their  lusts  will  be 
 torn  asunder  soon;  and  these  foul  exu- 
 dations that  seems  now  to  bind  them  into 
 one,  will  become  the  fuel  to  a  flame  of 
 mutual  hate,  when  first  a  spark  of  dis- 
 agreement fall.  They  will  bite  and  devour 
 one  another.  The  degree  of  their  privacy 
 to  each  other's  wickedness  will  be  the 
 measure  of  their  dislike  and  distrust. 
 
 Ibid. 
 FRIENDSHIP— Tender. 
 
 One  should  think  that  tender  friendship 
 might  become  more  intimate  and  entire, 
 the  older  the  pai-ties  grev/ ;  as  two  trees 
 planted  near  each  other,  the  higher  they 
 grow  and  the  more  widely  they  spread, 
 intermingle  more  completely  their  branches 
 and  their  foliage.  J.  Foster. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP— UniversaHty  of. 
 
 Friendship  is  like  rivers,  and  the  strands 
 of  seas,  and  the  air;  common  to  all  the 
 world.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP,  LOVE,  AND  TRUTH. 
 
 When  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth  abound 
 
 Among  a  band  of  brothers. 
 The  cup  of  joy  goes  gaily  round, 
 
 Each  shares  the  bliss  of  others. 
 Sweet  roses  grace  the  thorny  way 
 
 Along  this  vale  of  sorrow ; 
 The  flowers  that  shed  their  leaves  to-day 
 
 Shall  bloom  again  to-morrow. 
 How  grand  in  age,  how  fair  in  youth. 
 Are  holy  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth. 
 
 On  halcyon  wings  our  moments  pass. 
 
 Life's  cruel  cares  beguiling; 
 Old  Time  lays  down  his  scythe  and  glass. 
 
 In  gay  good  humour  smiling ; 
 W^ith  ermine  beard  and  forelock  gray. 
 
 His  reverent  front  adorning. 
 He  looks  like  Winter  turn'd  to  May, 
 
 Night  softened  into  morning. 
 How  grand  in  age,  how  fair  in  youth. 
 Are  holy  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth ! 
 
 From  these  delightful  fountains  flow 
 
 Ambrosial  rills  of  pleasure : 
 Can  man  desire,  can  Heaven  bestow, 
 
 A  more  resplendent  treasure  ? 
 Adorn'd  with  gems  so  richly  bright. 
 
 We'll  form  a  constellation. 
 Where  every  star,  with  modest  light. 
 
 Shall  gild  his  proper  station. 
 How  grand  in  age,  how  fair  in  youth, 
 Are  holy  Friendship,  Love,  and  Truth  ! 
 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 
360 
 
 FRIENDSHIP  OP  THE  WORLD— FIIUIT. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP  OF  THE  WORLD. 
 
 You'll  find  the  friendship  of  the  world  a 
 
 show! 
 Mere  outward  show  !  'Tis  like  the  harlot's 
 
 tears. 
 The  statesman's  promise,  or  false  patriot's 
 
 zeal, — 
 Full  of  fair  seeming,  but  delusion  all. 
 
 Savage. 
 
 The  friendships  of  the  world  are  oft 
 Confed'racies  in  vice,  or  leagues  of  pleasure. 
 Addison. 
 
 FRUGALITY  IN  HIGH  LIFE. 
 
 Sully,  the  great  statesman  and  minister 
 to  Henry  IV,  king  of  France,  always  re- 
 tained at  his  table,  in  his  most  prosperous 
 days,  the  same  frugality  to  which  he  had 
 been  accustomed  in  early  life.  He  was 
 frequently  reproached  by  the  courtiers  for 
 this  simplicity;  but  he  used  to  reply  to 
 them,  in  the  words  of  an  ancient  philo- 
 sopher, '•  If  the  guests  be  men  of  sense, 
 there  is  sufficient  for  them  ;  if  they  be  not, 
 I  can  very  well  dispense  with  their  com- 
 pany." Anon. 
 
 FRUIT— after  many  Days. 
 
 A  great  African  explorer  relates  an  an- 
 ecdote, that  when  a  lad  he  once  shot  an 
 arrow  in  the  air;  so  lofty  was  its  flight 
 that  he  lost  sight  of  it,  and  failed  to  detect 
 the  place  of  its  descent.  Long  time  he 
 searched  in  vain  around  the  meadow,  and 
 at  last  went  home  mourning  over  the  loss 
 of  his  arrow.  Years  passed  away.  He  be- 
 came a  man.  After  some  thirty  years  he 
 revisited  the  haunts  of  his  boyhood.  Walk- 
 ing  round  this  meadow,  he  gazed  upon 
 the  venerable  oak,  whose  wide-spreading 
 branches  had  frequently  sheltered  him  in 
 his  boyhood  from  the  rays  of  a  sultry  sun. 
 Full  of  old  memories,  he  paused  until  his 
 eye  rested  upon  a  feather  which  protruded 
 from  a  hollow  in  a  tree.  He  drew  it  forth, 
 and  with  it  the  identical  arrow  which 
 years  before  he  mourned  as  lost ! 
 
 And  is  it  not  thus  with  the  efforts  of 
 God's  children  ?  They  speak  in  the  ears 
 of  sinners,  they  give  a  tract,  they  utter  an 
 exhortation,  or,  if  in  the  ministry,  preach 
 a  sermon.  They  strive  to  watch  the  flight 
 of  the  shaft.  Vain  endeavour!  They 
 cannot  track  it  as  it  enters  the  mysterious 
 regions  of  the  mind ;  and  they  too  often 
 foolishly  deem  it  lost.  But  it  is  not  so. 
 It  has  done  its  work ;  and  either  in  future 
 years  of  time  or  in  eternity,  that  effort,  like 
 the  long-lost  arrow,  shall  come  b;ick  to  its 
 owner,  bringing  with  it  a  blessing,  even 
 the  reward  of  duty  faithfully  performed. 
 
 While  Dr.  Coke  was  journeying  in 
 America,  he  once  attempted  to  ford  a  river, 
 but  bis  horse  lost  its  foothold,  and  he  was 
 
 carried  down  the  stream.  The  doctor 
 narrowly  escaped  drowning  by  clinging  to 
 a  bough  which  overhung  the  river  side.  A 
 lady  in  the  vicinity  gave  him  entertain- 
 ment in  his  distress ;  sent  messengers  after 
 his  horse,  and  did  him  much  kindness: 
 when  he  left  her  roof  he  gave  her  a  tract. 
 For  five  years  the  good  doctor  toiled  on 
 in  the  cause  of  Christ  in  England  and  in 
 America.  Whether  his  tract  had  been 
 destroyed,  or  had  pierced  a  human  heart, 
 he  knew  not — nay,  had  forgotten  its  gift. 
 But  one  day,  on  his  way  to  a  conference 
 of  ministers,  a  young  man  approached  him 
 and  requested  the  favour  of  a  few  minutes' 
 conversation. 
 
 "  Do  you  remember,  sir,  being  nearly 
 drowned  in  this  river  some  five  years 
 ago?" 
 
 "  I  remember  it  quite  well,"  replied  the 
 doctor. 
 
 "  Do  you  remember  the  widow  lady  at 
 whose  house  you  were  entei'tained  after 
 escaping  from  the  river  ?" 
 
 "I  do ;  and  shall  never  forget  the  kind- 
 ness she  showed  me." 
 
 "  And  do  you  also  remember  giving  her 
 a  tract  when  you  bade  her  farewell  ?  " 
 
 "  I  do  not ;  but  it  is  very  possible  I  did 
 so." 
 
 "  Yes,  sir,  you  did  leave  a  tract.  That 
 lady  read  it,  and  was  converted.  She  lent 
 it  to  her  neighbours,  and  many  of  them 
 were  converted  too.  Several  of  her  children 
 were  also  saved;  a  society  was  formed, 
 which  flourishes  to  this  day." 
 
 This  statement  moved  the  doctor  to 
 tears.  But  the  young  man,  after  a  brief 
 pause,  resumed,  saying, 
 
 "  I  have  not  quite  told  you  all.  I  am 
 her  son.  That  tract  led  me  to  Christ. 
 And  now,  sir,  I  am  on  my  way  to  con- 
 ference to  be  ordained  to  the  work  of  the 
 ministry." 
 
 Thus  did  the  good  Dr.  Coke  find  his 
 arrow  in  an  unexpected  hour ;  and  thus 
 will  your  shafts  come  back  to  you.  Christian, 
 in  due  season.  Courage,  therefore,  droop- 
 ing friend  !  Weep  not  over  any  apparent 
 want  of  success.  But  as  you  have  learned 
 to  labour,  so  learn  also  to  wait.  Only  see 
 to  it  that  you  toil  on  in  faith,  and  wait  in 
 hope.     Yea, 
 
 "  Be  you  like  yon  old  mountain  oak. 
 
 Of  sturdy  mien — in  purpose  strong. 
 And  prove  thyself  to  be  unchanged 
 
 In  every  sense  from  right  to  wrong. 
 Let  not  success  unbalance  mind; 
 
 In  adverse  times  be  honest,  then — 
 Support  the  truth,  and  thou  shalt  march, 
 A  monarch  in  the  van  of  men." 
 
 W.  Smith. 
 
 It  is  related  of  the  Rev.  John  Wesley, 
 that  he  was  once  stopped  by  a  highway, 
 man,   who   demanded   his  money.     After 
 
FUTUEE— rUTURE  ILL  EVENTS. 
 
 361 
 
 Wesley  had  given  it  to  the  man,  he  called 
 him  back,  and  said,  "  Let  me  speak  one 
 word  to  you;  the  time  may  come  when 
 you  may  regret  the  course  of  life  in  which 
 you  are  engaged.  Remember  this :  The 
 Hood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all 
 sins."  He  said  no  more,  and  they  parted. 
 Many  years  afterwards,  when  he  was 
 leaving  a  cliurch  in  which  he  had  been 
 preaching,  a  person  came  to  him  and  asked 
 him  if  he  remembered  being  waylaid  at 
 such  a  time,  referring  to  the  forenamed 
 circumstances ;  and  Mr.  Wesley  replied 
 that  he  did.  "  1,"  said  the  individual, 
 "  was  the  man ;  that  single  verse  on  that 
 occasion  was  the  means  of  a  total  change 
 in  my  life  and  habits.  I  have  long  since 
 been  attending  tlie  house  of  God  and  the 
 Word  of  God,  and  I  hope  I  am  a  Christian." 
 Arvine. 
 
 Nothing  is  lost — 
 
 No  snow  nor  frost 
 That  come  to  enrich  the  earth  again. 
 We  thank  them  when  the  ripening  grain 
 Is  waving  over  the  hill  and  plain. 
 And  the   pleasant  rain  springs  from  the 
 earth  again. 
 
 All  endeth  in  good — 
 
 Water  and  food. 
 
 Never  despair  j 
 
 Disappointment  bear. 
 Though  hope  seemeth  vain — be    patient 
 
 still ; 
 Thy  p:ood  intents  God  doth  fulfil. 
 Thy  hand  is  weak ;  His  powerful  will 
 Is  finishing  thy  life-work  still. 
 
 The  good  endeavour 
 
 Is  lost — no  never !  Anon. 
 
 FUTTJEE— Caring  for  the. 
 
 Men  fall  into  the  great  mistake,  on  this 
 subject,  of  supposing  that  to  look  forward 
 must  mean  to  look  anxiously  forward.  It 
 is  just  as  easy  to  look  forward  with  hope 
 as  with  sadness.  And  God's  Word  does 
 not  teach  us  that  we  are  not  to  plan  and 
 forelook,  but  that  we  are  not  to  plan  and 
 forelook  with  a  spirit  of  anxious,  mis- 
 chievous, annoying  fear.  That  is  forbidden. 
 Asceticism  of  every  kind  is  against  the 
 Word  of  God.  Tliat  is  asceticism  which 
 leads  a  man  to  torment  himself  on  account 
 of  the  future — which  leads  a  man  to  use 
 the  future  as  a  whip  to  flagellate  himself 
 with.  That  is  forbidden.  It  is  not  using 
 the  future :  it  is  abusing  it  rather. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 FUTURE— Ignorance  of  the. 
 
 None,  indeed,  can  open  the  "  seven-sealed 
 hook,"  or  look  forward  over  the  dim  and 
 shadowy  field  stretching  out  inimitably 
 before  him.  The  astronomer  discourses 
 on  the  rate  at  whicli  a  sunbeam  travels, 
 and  explains  how  the  flashing  lightning 
 may  be  dispersed,  and   its  terrible  swoop 
 
 evaded.  He  even  indicates  those  spheres 
 where  storms  never  gather,  and  thunders 
 never  roll;  but  he  cannot  solve  the  anxious 
 problems  of  our  future,  nor  help  us  by  bis 
 great  wisdom  to  avoid  its  manifold  evils, 
 because  they  come  unforewarned.  Nor 
 will  the  lives  of  those  gone  before  avail  us, 
 seeing  no  two  lives  are  marked  by  tlie 
 same  vicissitudes,  or  chequered  by  the 
 same  light  and  shades,  the  same  joy  and 
 sorrow.  In  the  eloquent  words  of  a  fbreign 
 divine,  "  We  can  become  familiar  with  a 
 landscape;  we  know  where  to  find  the 
 waterfall,  and  the  shady  ledge  where  the 
 violets  grow  in  spring,  and  the  sassafras 
 gives  fortli  its  odours ;  but  we  can  never 
 become  familiar  with  our  life-landscape; 
 we  can  never  tell  where  we  shall  come 
 upon  the  shady  dell,  or  where  the  fountains 
 will  gush,  and  the  birds  sing.  That  is 
 with  God."  And  His  name  be  praised 
 that  it  is  so !  for  a  definite  prescience 
 thereof  would,  in  most  instances,  cloud  the 
 whole  course  of  life,  poison  tvery  stream 
 of  enjoyment,  and  render  existence  a  cnrse 
 of  no  ordinary  magnitude.    Edivin  Davies. 
 
 FUTUEE— ofLife. 
 
 The  future  is  always  fairy-land  to  the 
 young.  Life  is  like  a  beautiful  and  wind- 
 ing lane,  on  either  side  bright  flowers,  and 
 beautiful  butterflies  and  tempting  fruits, 
 which  we  scarcely  pause  to  admire  and  to 
 taste,  so  eager  are  we  to  hasten  to  an 
 opening  which  we  imagine  will  be  more 
 beautiful  still.  But  by  degrees,  as  we 
 advance,  the  trees  grow  bleak  ;  the  flowers 
 and  butterflies  fail,  the  fruits  disappear, 
 and  we  find  we  have  arrived — to  reach  a 
 desert  waste.  Sala. 
 
 FUTUEE  ILL  EVENTS— Knowledge  of. 
 
 We  may  add,  concerning  ill  events,  it  is 
 not  only  needless  to  foreknow  them,  but 
 better  to  be  ignorant.  Think  what  a  case 
 we  were  in  had  we  the  prospect  lying  dis- 
 tinctly before  us  of  all  the  evils  that  shall 
 befall  us  through  our  whole  life.  "  Such  a 
 day  I  shall  have  a  terrible  fit  of  the  cholic 
 or  the  stone ;  such  a  day  my  house  will  be 
 burnt,  or  I  shall  be  undone,  and  reduced 
 to  beggary;  and  such  a  day  my  husband, 
 wife,  or  this  or  that  pleasant  child  will  die; 
 at  such  a  time  I  shall  break  a  bone,  or  be 
 in  prison,"  &c.  Were  this  knowledge  a  fe- 
 licity ?  "  Some  may  think,"  says  Cicero, 
 "  it  were  of  great  concernment  to  us  to 
 know  what  shall  hapi^en.  But,"  he  adds, 
 "  Dicsearchus  wrote  a  great  book  to  show 
 it  is  better  to  be  ignorant."  ....  How 
 unsuitable  were  the  knowledge  (of  the 
 future)  we  are  apt  to  covet,  to  our  impo- 
 tency  and  imprudence !  as  monstrous  as 
 the  head  of  a  giant  joined  to  the  body  of  a 
 child !  The  increase  of  such  knowledge 
 would  certLinly  but  increase  our  sorrow. 
 
862 
 
 GAIN— GENIUS  AND  LABOUE. 
 
 and  be  to  us  but  an  enijine  of  torture,  a 
 Medusa's  head — always  aflVighting  us  with 
 its  own  ideas,  that  would  be  worse  to  us 
 and  more  tormenting  than  snakes  and 
 serpents.  Divine  mercy  in  these  respects 
 keeps  us  ignorant.  Thereto  it  is  fit  we 
 should  attribute  it ;  not  to  Ul-will,  as  the 
 devil  first  suggested.  John  Howe. 
 
 GAIN— "Way  to. 
 
 The  true  way  to  gain  much  is  never  to 
 desire  to  gain  too  much.  If  you  desire 
 not  to  be  too  poor,  desire  not  to  be  too 
 rich ;  he  is  not  rich  that  possesses  much, 
 but  he  that  covets  no  more ;  and  he  is  not 
 poor  that  enjoys  little,  but  he  that  wants 
 too  much.  The  contented  mind  wants  no- 
 thing that  he  hath  not ;  the  covetous  mind 
 wants  not  only  what  be  hatb  not,  but 
 likewise  what  he  hath.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 GENEALOGIES  OF  SCRIPTUEE. 
 
 Starting  up  here  and  thei'e  like  rugged 
 cliffs,  the  genealogies  claim  more  than  a 
 sterile  grandeur;  for  bleak  and  barren 
 though  they  seem,  there  is  a  well-spring 
 at  their  foot.  It  is  from  these  dreary 
 crags  that  the  fountain  of  Christ's  man- 
 hood takes  its  rise ;  and  as  you  follow  the 
 stream  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees  to  the 
 manger  of  Bethlehem,  you  find  how  faith- 
 ful the  Promiser,  and  how  watchful  the 
 Providence  which  through  all  the  eventful 
 centuries  kept  afloat,  and  guided  on  the 
 ark  of  the  Advent.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 GENIUS— Characteristic  of. 
 
 One  of  the  strongest  characteristics  of 
 genius  is,  the  poiver  of  lighting  its  own  fire. 
 J.  Foster. 
 GENIUS— description  of. 
 
 What  is  genius  ?     'Tis  a  flame 
 Kindling  all  the  human  frame; 
 'Tis  a  ray  that  lights  the  eye, 
 Soft  in  love,  in  battle  high ; 
 'Tis  the  lightning  of  the  mind. 
 Unsubdued  and  undefin'd; 
 'Tis  the  flood  that  pours  along 
 The  full  clear  melody  of  song ; 
 'Tis  the  sacred  boon  of  heaven, 
 To  its  choicest  favorites  given. 
 They  who  feel  can  paint  it  well, 
 What  is  genius  ?     Byron,  tell ! 
 
 Anon. 
 GENIUS— and  its  Responsibility. 
 
 As  Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  not 
 by  neglecting,  but  by  fulfilling  it — by  en- 
 tering into  it,  and  animating  and  pervad- 
 ing it,  and  infusing  a  living  power  into  its 
 forms,  not  by  standing  aloft,  and  looking 
 down  or  trampling  on  it — so  is  Genius 
 the  iulfilling  of  the  laws  of  the  intellectual 
 
 world,  discerning  them  by  an  involuntary, 
 and  almost  unconscious  intuition,  and  em- 
 bodying them  in  some  creation  of  its  own. 
 In  the  moral  order  of  things,  on  the  other 
 hand,  genius  is  a  perilous  eminence,  as 
 precipitous  as  it  is  lofty.  Being  mostly 
 united  to  acuter  sensibilities,  it  receives 
 all  impressions,  evil  as  well  as  good,  more 
 vividly;  and  from  a  latent  consciousness 
 that  it  ought  to  penetrate  to  the  core  of 
 things,  it  submits  reluctantly  to  the  re- 
 straint of  conventional  usages  and  estab- 
 lished institutions.  Yet  its  superiority, 
 instead  of  emancipating  it  from  moral 
 obligation,  increases  its  responsibility.  In 
 this,  as  in  other  things,  much  will  be  re- 
 quired from  him  to  whom  much  is  given. 
 The  receiver  of  ten  talents  has  to  bring  in 
 ten  more,  and  then  to  rule  over  ten  cities. 
 Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 GENIUS  AND  COMMON  SENSE. 
 
 Genius,  like  the  lark,  is  apt  to  despise 
 its  nest  upon  the  earth,  and  waste  its  time 
 in  fluttering  and  quavering  among  the 
 clouds;  but  common  sense  is  the  humbler 
 fowl,  which  picks  up  the  barleycorns,  and 
 crows  and  fattens  at  leisure.  Anon. 
 
 GENIUS  AND  HOLINESS. 
 
 How  beautiful  is  genius  when  combined 
 With  holiness  !     Oh  !  how  divinely  swell 
 The  tones  of  earthly  harp,  whose  chords 
 
 are  touched 
 By  the  soft  hand  of  piety,  and  hung 
 Upon  religion's  shrine,  there  vibrating 
 With  solemn  music  in  the  ear  of  God. 
 
 Anon. 
 GENIUS  AND  INFIDELITY. 
 
 The  most  ethereal  creations  of  fantastic 
 fancy  were  shaped  by  a  mind  that  could 
 read  the  life  of  ('hrist,  and  then  blaspheme 
 the  Adorable.  The  truest  utterances,  and 
 some  of  the  deepest  ever  spoken,  revealing 
 the  unrest  and  the  agony  that  lie  hid  in 
 the  heart  of  man,  came  from  one  whose 
 life  was,  from  first  to  last,  selfish.  The 
 highest  astronomer  of  this  age,  before 
 whose  clear  eye  Creation  lay  revealed  in 
 all  its  perfect  order,  was  one  whose  spirit 
 refused  to  recognise  the  Cause  of  causes. 
 The  mighty  heart  of  Genius  had  failed  to 
 reach  the  things  which  God  imparts  to  a 
 humble  spirit.  F.  W.  Rolertson. 
 
 GENIUS  AND  LABOUR. 
 
 Alexander  Hamilton  once  said  to  an  in- 
 timate friend :  "  Men  give  me  some  credit 
 for  genius.  When  I  have  a  subject  in 
 hand,  I  study  it  profoundly.  Day  and 
 night  it  is  before  me.  I  explore  it  in  all 
 its  bearings.  My  mind  becomes  pervaded 
 with  it.  Then  the  efibrts  which  I  make 
 the  people  are  pleased  to  call  the  fruits  of 
 
GENroS  WITHOUT  RELIGION— GERMAN  PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 genius.  It  is  the  fruit  of  labour  and 
 thought." 
 
 Mr.  Webster  once  replied  to  a  gentle- 
 man who  pressed  him  to  speak  on  a  subject 
 of  great  importance.  "  The  subject  in- 
 terests me  deeply,  but  I  have  not  time. 
 There,  sir,"  pointing  to  a  large  pile  of  un- 
 answered letters  to  which  he  must  reply 
 before  the  close  of  the  session  (which  was 
 then  three  days  off),  "  I  have  no  time  to 
 master  the  subject  so  as  to  do  it  justice." 
 *'  But,  Mr.  Webster,  a  few  words  from  you 
 would  do  much  to  awaken  public  attention 
 to  it."  "  If  there  be  so  much  weight  in 
 my  word,"  said  Mr.  W.,  "  it  is  because  I 
 do  not  allow  myself  to  speak  on  any  sub- 
 ject until  my  mind  is  imbued  with  it." 
 
 Demosthenes  was  once  urged  to  speak 
 on  a  great  and  sudden  emergency,  "  I  am 
 not  prepared,"  said  he,  and  obstinately 
 refused. 
 
 The  law  of  labour  is  equally  binding  on 
 genius  and  mediocrity.  Br.  Haven. 
 
 GENIUS  WITHOUT  RELIGION. 
 
 Genius !  What  is  it  ?  Without  re- 
 ligion, genius  is  only  a  lamp  on  the  outer 
 gate  of  a  palace.  It  may  serve  to  cast  a 
 gleam  of  light  on  those  that  are  without, 
 while  the  inhabitant  sits  in  darkness. 
 
 S.  More. 
 
 GENTLENESS— Description  of. 
 
 Gentleness  is  love  in  society.  It  is  love 
 holding  intercourse  with  those  around  it. 
 It  is  that  cordiality  of  aspect,  and  that 
 soul  of  speech  which  assure  us  that  kind 
 and  earnest  hearts  may  still  be  met  with 
 here  below.  It  is  that  quiet  influence 
 which,  like  the  scented  flame  of  an  ala- 
 baster lamp,  fills  many  a  home  with  light, 
 and  warmth,  and  fragrance  altogether. 
 It  is  the  carpet,  soft  and  deep,  which, 
 whilst  it  dilTuses  a  look  of  ample  comfm-t, 
 deadens  many  a  creaking  sound.  It  is  the 
 curtain  which,  from  many  a  beloved  form, 
 wards  oif  at  once  the  summer's  glow  and 
 the  winter's  wind.  It  is  the  jaillow  on 
 which  sickness  lays  its  head  and  forgets 
 half  its  misery,  and  to  which  death  comes 
 in  a  balmier  dream.  It  is  considerateness. 
 It  is  tenderness  of  feeling.  It  is  warmth 
 of  aff"ection.  It  is  promptitude  of  sym- 
 patby.  It  is  love  in  all  its  depths,  and  all 
 its  delicacy.  It  is  everything  included  in 
 that  matchless  grace,  the  gentleness  of 
 Christ.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 GENTLENESS— in  the  Family. 
 
 In  the  family  it  is  gentleness  that  is 
 more  needed  than  anything  else.  Any 
 amount  of  restraint  or  discipline  may  be 
 endured,  so  long  as  it  is  made  apparent  to 
 the  child  that  the  soul  of  the  parent  is  not 
 overclouded  by  angry  feeling.  Restraint 
 and  firmness  there  must  always  be  in  the 
 
 guidance  of  the  inexperienced  mind ;  but 
 if  the  father  finds  that  his  reproofs  and  his 
 discipline  produce  angry  frowns  and  fierce 
 retorts,  let  him  ask  himself.  Am  I  not 
 angry  ?  Has  not  the  mind  of  my  own 
 disturbed  soul  thus  tossed  the  frail  and 
 moveable  soul  of  my  child  ?  Am  I  gentle 
 as  God  is  gentle  ?  If  discipline  come  from 
 a  gentle  and  loving  soul,  the  child's  anger 
 is  short-lived,  and  in  a  calmer  moment  he 
 will  acknowledge  it.  Happy  the  parent 
 whose  son  can  say  to  him  in  after  years, 
 "  Thy  gentleness  hath  made  me  great." 
 
 Anon. 
 GENTLENESS— Power  of. 
 
 By  invincible,  self-controlling  gentle- 
 ness, the  mother  at  last  wins  back  to  virtue 
 the  son  whom  no  threats,  no  severities,  no 
 storms  and  upbraidings  of  passion  could 
 subdue.  Geologists  tell  us  that  the  calm 
 and  silent  influence  of  the  atmosphere  is 
 a  power  mightier  than  all  the  noisier 
 forces  of  nature.  Rocks  and  mountains 
 are  worn  down  and  subdued  by  it. 
 
 Anon. 
 GENTLENESS— in  Speech. 
 
 Speak  gently — it  Is  better  fiir 
 To  rule  by  love  than  fear ; 
 
 Speak  gently — let  not  harsh  words  mar 
 The  good  we  might  do  here. 
 
 Speak  gently — love  doth  whisper  low 
 
 The  vows  that  true  hearts  bind ; 
 And  gently  friendship's  accents  flow. 
 Affliction's  voice  is  kind. 
 
 Speak  gently  to  the  little  child. 
 
 Its  love  be  sure  to  gain  ; 
 Teach  it  in  accents  soft  and  mild; 
 
 It  may  not  long  remain. 
 
 Speak  gently  to  the  young — for  they 
 
 Will  have  enough  to  bear; 
 Pass  through  this  world  as  best  they  may, 
 
 'Tis  full  of  anxious  care. 
 
 Speak  gently  to  the  aged  one. 
 Grieve  not  the  care-worn  heart  j 
 
 The  sands  of  life  are  nearly  run, — 
 Let  such  in  peace  depart. 
 
 Speak  gently,  kindly  to  the  poor. 
 Let  no  harsh  tone  be  heard ; 
 
 They  have  enough  they  must  endure, 
 Without  an  unkind  word. 
 
 Speak  gently  to  the  erring — know 
 They  may  have  toil'd  In  vain  ; 
 
 Perchance  unkindness  made  them  so,— 
 Oh,  win  them  back  again. 
 
 Speak  gently — 'tis  a  little  -thing 
 
 Dropped  in  the  heart's  deep  well; — 
 
 The  good,  the  joy  that  it  may  bring. 
 Eternity  shall  tell.  2>.  Bates. 
 
 GERMAN  PHILOSOPHY 
 
 A  German  philosopher  has  lost  himself 
 
3G1 
 
 GIFTS— GIFTS  OP  GOD. 
 
 in  the  windings  of  nature,  as  the  traveller 
 will  lose  himself  among  the  trees  and  mter- 
 taugled  branches  of  a  forest.  There  is  a 
 way  through  the  wood  which  humbler  men, 
 which  peasants  know  ;  but  which  the  proud 
 will  not  submit  to  inquire  about,  and  they 
 toil  and  wander  amidst  gorgeous  scenes, 
 and  think  that  they  are  making  progress, 
 and  they  do  turn  aside  many  a  branch 
 which  would  interpose  itself  in  the  way, 
 and  they  exert  prodigious  strength,  and 
 amazing  iugenuity,  but  having  never  got 
 the  near  way,  or  the  right  way,  the  paths 
 in  which  they  walk  either  conduct  them 
 into  deepening  thickets  of  error,  or  land 
 tliem  nearly  at  the  point  at  which  they 
 started.  McCosh. 
 
 GIFTS— Distinction  of. 
 
 All  flowers  have  their  being  from  the 
 earth  by  their  roots,  but  they  have  in- 
 fluences from  heaven  much  different.  Men 
 also  are  all  of  Adam's  clay,  but  the  gifts  of 
 God  do  manifest  themselves  in  some  so 
 visibly,  that  it  is  wisdom  to  give  them 
 place,  and  but  headiness  to  fight  against 
 them.  The  little  boy  (David),  neglected, 
 which  fed  the  sheep,  and  whom  the  father 
 would  not  so  much  as  reckon  amongst  the 
 number  of  his  sons,  that  is  he  whom  Samuel 
 chose  king  by  God's  direction,  who  com- 
 mands not  to  measure  kings  any  more  by 
 their  stature,  but  by  their  endowments 
 from  heaven.  N.  Caiissin. 
 
 GIFTS— Diversity  of. 
 
 We  discover  diversity  of  gifts  by  a 
 reference  to  Whitfield  and  Handel.  The 
 one  was  in  eloquence  what  the  other  was 
 in  sacred  song  ;  the  one  appealing,  through 
 the  understanding,  to  the  heart  and  con- 
 science, calling  on  men  everywhere  to 
 repent  and  turn  to  God ;  the  other  drawing 
 out  and  bearing  upward,  as  a  sweet  incense 
 before  the  altar  of  the  upper  sanctuary, 
 the  devout  aspirations  of  the  new-born 
 soul.  There  was  an  "  air,  a  soul,  a  niove- 
 ment  in  the  oratory  of  Whitfield,"  which 
 created  indescribable  emotions  in  his  vast 
 assemblies.  Handel  equally  electrified  the 
 multitudes  in  Westminster  Abbey.  His 
 power  of  song,  while  he  performed  the 
 Messiah,  raised  them  to  their  feet.  And 
 yet  greater  wonders  did  Whitfield,  when 
 preaching  the  Messiah  to  the  scores  of 
 thousands  in  Moorfields.  H.  Read. 
 
 GIFTS— Latent. 
 
 The  fiint  contains  fire,  but  it  must  be 
 struck  in  order  to  find  it ;  the  loadstone 
 contains  attraction,  but  it  must  have  the 
 proper  objects  to  bring  it  out ;  the  organ 
 and  piano,  &c.,  possess  music,  but  they  must 
 be  played  by  the  right  persons  to  bring 
 out  the  music.  So  there  are  many  Chris- 
 tians who  contain  gifts  which  have  been 
 
 bestowed  by  providence  and  grace,  which 
 lie  unoccupied  within  them.  Tliey  need 
 development  and  use  both  for  their  own 
 good  and  the  good  of  the  Church.  Each 
 one  should  "  stir  up "  the  gifts  of  God 
 within  him,  and  bring  them  forth  in  the 
 right  way,  and  at  the  right  time,  and  in 
 relation  to  the  right  objects.  This  would 
 answer  the  end  of  their  bestowment. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 GIFTS— Power  of. 
 
 A  crown  is  safer  kept  by  benefits  than 
 arms ;  these  will  silence  the  barking  tongue. 
 Gifts  are  the  greatest  usury,  because  a  two- 
 fold retribution  is  an  urged  efi'ect  that  a 
 noble  mind  prompts  us  to  ;  and  it  is  said 
 we  pay  the  most  for  what  is  given  us. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 GIFTS  OF  GOD— Corrupted. 
 
 The  rain  as  it  falls  from  the  firmament 
 is  never  poisonous;  but  by  the  time  it 
 filters  through  strata  filled  with  lead  or 
 copper,  it  may  become  so  pernicious  that 
 whosoever  drinks  of  the  water  dies.  The 
 juice  of  the  grape,  as  it  flows  from  the 
 fermenting  vat,  is  generous  wine;  but  if 
 the  wine- skin  which  receives  it  is  old  and 
 musty,  or  if  it  be  poured  into  a  jar  of 
 acidulous  pottery,  it  soon  grows  sour  and 
 vapid.  Gifts  as  they  come  from  God  are 
 always  good  and  perfect ;  but  by  the  time 
 that  they  have  distilled  through  our  mur- 
 muring spirits,  they  assume  another  cha- 
 racter. Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 GIFTS  OF  GOD— Most  ExceUent  of  the. 
 
 Among  all  the  gifts  of  God,  the  gift  of 
 His  holy  Word  is  the  most  excellent,  and, 
 if  we  take  away  the  Word,  what  do  we 
 else  but  take  away  the  sun  out  of  the 
 world  ?  For  what  is  the  world  without 
 the  Word;  but  even  hell  and  the  very 
 kingdom  of  Satan,  although  there  be  in  it 
 never  so  many  wise  men— learned,  wealthy, 
 and  mighty  ?  For  what  can  all  these  do 
 without  the  Word  ?  which  alone  bringeth 
 life  and  comfort  to  the  soul,  peace  and 
 quietness  to  the  conscience;  which  alone 
 keepeth  us  in  the  favour  of  God;  without 
 the  which  there  is  no  religion,  and  so  no 
 God ;  whereby  also  the  world  is  preserved ; 
 fur  without  the  Word  and  Christ,  the 
 world  could  not  stand  the  twinkling  of  an 
 eye.  Albeit,  therefore,  there  be  many  and 
 wonderful  gifts  of  God  in  the  world,  given 
 for  the  use  of  man,  yet  the  only  gift  which 
 containeth  and  preserveth  all  tiie  others  is 
 the  Word  of  God,  which  pronounceth  and 
 witnesseth  to  our  consciences  that  God  is 
 our  merciful  Father ;  which  also  promiseth 
 unto  us  remission  of  sins,  and  life  ever- 
 lasting. Now,  if  we  should  lack  these 
 comforts,  what  comfort  were  it,  I  pray 
 you,  for  us  to  live  ?  Yea,  this  life  to  us 
 were  no  life  at  all.  Luther. 
 
GIFTS  OF  GOD  TO  MAN— GIVING  TO  GOD. 
 
 GIFTS  OF  GOD  TO  MAN. 
 
 He  has  gifted  us  with  the  innocent 
 pleasures  of  sense.  He  has  annexed  enjoy- 
 ment to  every  action  of  the  life ;  so  that 
 when  body  and  mind  are  alike  in  health 
 we  can  neither  eat,  drink,  walk,  talk,  or 
 sleep,  without  sensations  of  pleasure.  He 
 has  gifted  us  with  powers  of  imagination 
 — made  us  susceptible  of  the  rich  poetry 
 with  which  He  has  filled  creation.  He 
 has  given  us  the  capacity  for  high  thoughts 
 and  feelings.  He  has  endowed  us  to  ex- 
 pand, to  analyse,  to  illustrate,  to  compare, 
 to  combine.  He  has  gifted  us  with  the 
 princijile  of  friendship.  He  has  implanted 
 in  us  the  social  nature.  He  has  gifted  us 
 with  the  pleasures  of  hope,  drawing  com- 
 fort from  every  element  of  sorrow,  and 
 soothing  each  Marah  of  the  heart's  bitter- 
 ness. He  has  gifted  us  with  the  pleasures 
 of  memory,  embalming  the  recollection  of 
 the  past  in  an  amber  that  never  fades  away, 
 and  that  is  proof  against  the  corrupting 
 influences  of  time,  thrilling  again  the 
 spirit  with  the  pleasures  that  once  thrilled 
 the  heart  of  youth.  He  has  gifted  us, 
 above  all,  with  the  pleasures  of  holiness, 
 the  blessed  feeling  of  conscious  pardon,  the 
 calm  satisfaction  of  assured  faith,  the  en- 
 riching comfort  of  the  Holy  Gliost  —heaven 
 around  us,  heaven  within  us,  lieaven  beyond 
 us,  heaven  above  us,  and  the  bright  and 
 cheering  prospect  of  the  enjoyment  of  that 
 heaven  for  ever.  JF.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 GIFTS  AND  GRACES. 
 
 As  many  vapours,  rising  from  the  sea, 
 meet  together  in  one  cloud,  and  that  cloud 
 falls  down  divided  into  many  drops,  and 
 those  drops  run  together,  making  rills  of 
 water,  which  meet  in  channels,  and  those 
 channels  rvm  into  brooks,  and  those  brooks 
 into  rivers,  and  those  rivers  into  the  sea ; 
 so  it  either  is  or  should  be  with  the  gifts 
 and  graces  of  tlie  Church.  They  all  come 
 down  from  God,  divided  severally  as  He 
 will  to  various  Christians.  They  should 
 flow  through  the  channels  of  their  special 
 vocations  into  the  common  streams  of 
 public  use,  for  Church  or  commonwealth  ; 
 and  ultimately  return  into  the  great  ocean 
 of  His  glory,  from  whence  they  originally 
 came.  Bp.  Rail. 
 
 GIVING. 
 
 t       The  sun  gives  ever ;  so  the  earth — 
 What  it  can  give  so  much  'tis  worth  : 
 The  ocean  gives  in  many  ways — 
 Gives  paths,  gives  fishes,  rivers,  bays; 
 So,  too,  the  air,  it  gives  us  breath — 
 When  it  stops  giving  comes  in  death. 
 Give,  give,  be  always  giving; 
 Who  gives  not  is  not  living. 
 The  more  you  give. 
 The  more  you  live. 
 
 God's  love  hath  to  us  wealth  upheaped ; 
 
 Only  by  giving  it  is  reaped. 
 
 The  body  withers,  and  the  mind, 
 
 If  pent  in  by  selfish  rind. 
 
 Give  strength,  give  thought,  give  deeds, 
 
 give  pelf. 
 Give  love,  give  tears,  and  give  thyself; 
 Who  gives  not  is  not  living. 
 
 The  more  we  give, 
 
 The  more  we  live.  Anon, 
 
 Give !    as  the  morning  that  flows  out  of 
 heaven ; 
 
 Give !  as  the  waves  when  their  channel  is 
 riven ; 
 
 Give !    as  the  free  air  and  sunshine  are 
 given ; 
 
 Lavishly,  utterly,  joyfully  give. 
 
 Not  the  waste  drops  of  thy  cup  overflow- 
 ing. 
 
 Not  the  faint  sparks  of  thy  hearth  ever 
 glowing. 
 
 Not  a  pale  bud  from  the  June  roses  blow- 
 ing; 
 
 Give  as  He  gave  thee  who  gave  thee 
 to  live.  Ibid. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— Examples  of. 
 
 When  Mr.  Dee  Stafford's  property 
 (Boston,  U.  S.)  was  worth  £9000,  he  re- 
 solved it  should  never  be  any  more. 
 Though  he  had  given  largely  for  years  be- 
 fore, he  then  resolved  that  all  his  income 
 should  be  devoted  to  benevolent  objects. 
 This  was  literally  and  faithfully  carried 
 out.  During  the  remainder  of  his  life  he 
 gave  over  £14,000  to  benevolent  objects. 
 His  memoir  shows  also  the  way  to  give. 
 It  was  not  done  indiscriminately,  but  as 
 the  result  of  personal  examination,  giving 
 his  time  and  his  earnest  Christian  labour 
 and  sympathy,  as  well  as  his  money.  He 
 was  a  very  busy  man,  and  a  very  happy 
 man,  because  his  hands  were  more  and 
 more  full  of  work  for  Christ,  till  he  died 
 at  the  age  of  sixty -three.  He  gave  his  sons 
 £2000  each,  and  the  rest  of  his  property 
 he  left  to  his  wife,  to  be  used  according  to 
 her  discretion  in  works  of  benevolence. 
 
 In  Scotland  I  was  attending  a  mission- 
 ary meeting,  and  you  know  in  Scotland  it 
 is  the  fashion  to  give  money  at  the  door 
 coming  in  or  going  out.  Going  away  from 
 the  meeting,  a  poor  servant  came  and 
 dropped  in  a  sovereign.  The  deacon  stand- 
 ing there  said,  "  I  am  sure  you  can't 
 afl'ord  to  give  that." 
 
 "  Oh  !  yes,  I  can." 
 
 "  You  will  have  to  go  without  clothes." 
 
 "  Oh  !  no,  I  shan't." 
 
 "  Do  take  it  back,"  he  said. 
 
 She  replied,  "  I  must  give  it." 
 
 The  deacon  then  said,  "Take  it  home 
 
S66 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD. 
 
 (o-nijrlit,  and  if  sifter  thinking  of  it  dminEf 
 tho  ui<:;ht,  you  choose  to  give  it,  you  can 
 send  it." 
 
 The  next  morning  I  sat  at  breakfast, 
 and  there  was  a  little  note  came,  and  it 
 contained  two  sovereigns.  The  good  dea- 
 con said,  "  You  won't  take  it !" 
 
 I  said,  "  Of  course  I  shall,  for  if  I  send 
 it  back,  she  will  send  four  next  time." 
 
 Scott. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— HeartUy. 
 
 It  is  related  of  Andrew  Fuller  that,  on 
 a  begging  tour  for  the  cause  of  missions, 
 he  called  on  a  certain  wealthy  nobleman  to 
 wlioni  he  was  unknown,  but  who  had  heard 
 much  of  Fuller's  talents  and  piety.  After 
 he  had  stated  to  him  the  object  of  his 
 visit,  his  lordship  observed  that  he  thought 
 he  should  make  him  no  donation.  Dr. 
 Fuller  was  preparing  to  return,  when  the 
 nobleman  remarked  that  there  was  one 
 man  to  whom,  if  he  could  see  him,  he 
 thought  he  would  give  sometliiug  for  the 
 mission,  and  that  man  was  Andrew  Fuller. 
 Mr.  Fidler  immediately  replied,  "  My 
 name,  sir,  is  Andrew  Fuller."  On  this  the 
 nobleman,  with  some  hesitation,  gave  him  a 
 guinea.  Observing  the  indifference  of  the 
 donor,  Mr.  Fuller  looked  him  in  the  face 
 with  much  gravity,  and  said.  "  Does  this 
 donation,  sir,  come  from  your  heart  ?  If 
 it  does  not,  I  wish  not  to  receive  it."  The 
 nobleman  was  melted  and  overcome  with 
 tliis  honest  frankness,  and  taking  from  his 
 purse  ten  guineas  more,  said,  "There,  sir, 
 these  come  from  my  heart."  Men  should 
 give  to  the  cause  of  missions  cheerfully. 
 Tliey  slionUl  do  good  with  a  good  motive, 
 "  The  Lord  loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— Motives  of. 
 
 When  we  do  give,  in  what  spirit  and 
 with  wliat  feeling  is  it?  Oh,  my  brethren  ! 
 put  down  what  you  give  from  vanity,  that 
 your  name  may  appear  creditably  along 
 with  otliers ;  put  down  what  you  give 
 from  indolence,  because  you  are  entreated 
 to  do  so,  and  in  order  to  rid  yourself  ol 
 those  troublesome  applicants;  put  down 
 what  you  are  surprised  into  giving,  and  in 
 reality  give  with  regret,  like  one  who  sub- 
 mits to  a  disagrceahle  necessity  when  he 
 is  not  skilful  enough  to  avoid  it ;  put  down 
 what  you  give  through  weakness,  from  no 
 other  motive  than  the  purely  negative  one, 
 tliat  you  had  not  the  courage  to  refuse ! 
 put  down  what  you  give  in  ill-humour, 
 secretly  indulging  angry  feelings  either 
 against  those  who  have  appealed  to  you, 
 or  those  on  whose  behalf  the  appeal  has 
 been  made  ;  then  put  down  what  you  give 
 cheerfully,  and  in  the  spirit  of  those  words 
 of  Jesus,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
 to  receive."  Br.  F.  Coulin. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— Reasons  for  not. 
 
 A  voluntary  collector  for  one  of  the 
 great  benevolent  interests  of  the  day, 
 called  lately,  in  pursuance  of  his  duty, 
 upon  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  was 
 acquainted,  a  business  man  and  a  Christian, 
 but  one  who  had  hitherto  excused  himself 
 from  making  liberal  contributions,  on  the 
 plea  that  he  "  could  not  aflbrd  it."  This 
 plea,  from  a  man  of  undoubted  wealth,  had 
 probably  seemed  almost  incredible  to  our 
 friend  the  collector ;  but  as  he  now  sat  in 
 view  of  the  sumptuous  suite  of  parlours, 
 awaiting  tlie  appearance  of  their  proprietor, 
 the  truth  flashed  upon  him.  He  felt  that 
 the  plea  had  been  sincere  ;  the  explanation 
 was  before  him.  On  the  gentleman's 
 entrance,  he  mentioned  the  errand  on  which 
 he  had  come,  adding,  "  But  I  see,  sir,  that 
 you  really  cannot  affoi-d  it,  and  I  cannot 
 think  of  presenting  any  claim  upon  you. 
 Such  a  scale  of  expenditure  as  I  see  indi- 
 cated by  everything  around  me,  can  indeed 
 leave  you  little,  if  anything,  to  spare  for 
 the  cause  of  Christ.  I  must  look  elsewhere 
 for  support  to  our  operations.  Good  morn- 
 ing, sir !"  The  collector  left,  but  the 
 arrow  he  had  lodged  did  not.  It  was  not 
 long  before  the  rich  steward  sought  hiui 
 with  acknowledgments  for  the  cutting 
 reproof,  which  had  made  a  profound  and 
 abiding  impression  upon  his  conscience. 
 He  had  made  up  his  mind  that  he  could 
 afford  to  give,  and  could  not  afford  to 
 squander.  He  presented  the  collector  a 
 cheque  for  £2('0,  with  the  assurance  that 
 the  style  of  his  household  should  be  no 
 longer  a  scandal  nor  an  incumbrance  to 
 his  piety.  K.  Arvine. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— Repaid. 
 
 The  Eev.  J.  Wesley  once  being  about  to 
 make  a  collection,  observed  that  "  the  Lord 
 was  a  good  paymaster,"  which  so  wrought 
 upon  the  feelings  of  a  boy  present,  that  he 
 put  a  shilling  in  the  plate,  which  was  all 
 he  had.  Some  little  time  after,  not  finding 
 his  shilling  come  back  again,  he  told  his 
 mother  with  some  degree  of  sorrow  about 
 the  circumstances,  who  cheered  him,  say- 
 ing, "  Never  mind,  the  Lord  is  a  good  pay- 
 master." 
 
 About  twenty  years  afterwards  he  met 
 Mr.  Wesley,  and  told  him,  "  At  such  a  time 
 you  said  so  and  so,  and  I  did  such  a  thing," 
 then  added,  "And  so  He  is  a  good  pay- 
 master, for  I  am  this  day  worth  twenty 
 thousand  pounds ;  and,  I  trust,  have  the 
 grace  of  God  in  my  heart."  Ibid. 
 
 GIVING  TO  GOD— Ways  of. 
 
 Tliere  is  a  pompous  way  of  giving. 
 There  is  giving  such  that  everybody  is 
 attracted  to  see  it.  It  is  made  to  be  a 
 great  tiling.     A  man  comes  and  asks  you 
 
GOD. 
 
 3G7 
 
 to  contribute  something  to  this  or  that 
 wortliy  cause.  You  put  yourself  in  such 
 an  attitude  tliat  ho  is  oblijjjed  to  work  his 
 way  by  tlc'j.rces.  So  he  rouiiiuls  you  of 
 how  many  i^^ood  traits  you  have,  and  i)lays 
 upon  your  vanity.  You  smile,  and  become 
 more  and  more  placated.  He  pats  yon, 
 and  flatters  you ;  and  at  last  brinffs  you 
 into  a  state  in  which  you  say,  "  Well,  I 
 don't  know  but  I  will,"  and  you  give  your 
 <iift.  But  the  injunction  of  the  apostle  is 
 that  everybody  that  gives  shall  give  with 
 simplicity.  What  is  giving  with  sim- 
 plicity ?  Why,  it  is  giving  just  as  if 
 ^'.iving  was  so  natural  that  when  a  man 
 gave  he  did  not  think  of  changing  his 
 countenance,  his  manners,  or  his  air  at 
 nil ;  but  did  it  quietly,  easily,  beautifully. 
 When  yon  are  going  round  for  proper  help, 
 some  men  give  so  tliat  you  are  angry  every 
 time  you  ask  them  to  contribute.  They 
 give  so  that  their  gold  and  silver  shoot 
 you  like  a  bullet.  Other  persons  give  with 
 such  beauty  that  you  remember  it  as  long 
 as  you  live ;  and  you  say,  "  It  is  a  pleasure 
 to  go  to  such  men."  There  are  souk!  men 
 that  give  as  springs  do.  Whether  you  go 
 to  them  or  not,  they  are  always  full;  and 
 your  part  is  merely  to  put  your  dish  under 
 the  ever-flowing  stream.  Others  give  just 
 as  a  jnim])  docs,  where  the  well  is  dry  and 
 the  pump  leaks.  21.  iV.  Beecher. 
 
 GOD —Acknowledging. 
 
 Among  the  Jews  the  wave-ofTering  was 
 waved  horizontally  to  the  four  jioints,  and 
 the  heave-oll'ering  heaved  up  and  down,  to 
 signily  that  He  was  Lord  of  heaven  and 
 earth.  Bowes. 
 
 GOD— Affections  of. 
 
 Wo  dcscrib(,'  desire  in  Ood  as  an  alTcction 
 for  obtaining  the  works  of  right  cousncss 
 which  have  been  jirescribed  to  creatures  en- 
 dued with  uiulerstanding,and  for  liesl  owing 
 on  them  "the  recompence  of  reward"  (I's. 
 V,  3—5;  Ixxx,  13— IG;  Isa.  xlviii,  18,  19). 
 To  this  is  opposed  that  affection  according 
 to  which  God  abhors  the  works  of  unriglit- 
 eousncss,  and  the  omission  of  a  remunera- 
 tion (,Ier.  V,  7 — D).  Jo;/  is  an  ali'ection 
 arising  from  the  j)resence  of  a  thing  that 
 is  suitable,  such  as  the  fruition  of  Himself, 
 the  obedience  of  the  creature,  the  connnu- 
 nication  of  His  own  goodness,  and  the 
 destruction  of  His  rebels  and  enemies  (Isa. 
 Ixii,  5;  I's.  Ixxxi,  13;  Prov.  i,  24—26). 
 Oricf,  which  is  its  opposite,  has  its  origin 
 in  the  disobedience  and  the  misery  of  the 
 creature,  and  in  the  occasion  given  by  His 
 peojile  for  blaspheming  the  name  of  God 
 among  the  Gentiles.  Nearly  allied  to  this 
 is  liepeidance,  which,  in  God,  is  nothing 
 more  than  a  change  of  the  thing  willed  or 
 done,  on  account  of  the  act  of  a  rational 
 creature  (Gen.  vi,  G;    Jer.  xviii,  8 — 10). 
 
 ITope  is  an  attentive  expectation  of  a  good 
 work  duo  from  the  creature,  and  by  tlio 
 grace  of  God  capable  of  bcang  jieribrmed. 
 Despair  arises  from  the  pertinacious  wick- 
 eilness  of  the  creature,  who  is  "  alienated 
 from  the  life  of  God,"  and  hardened  in 
 evil,  and  who,  after  "he  is  past  feeling," 
 liis  conscience  having  been  "scared  with  a 
 hot  iron,"  has  "given  himself  unto  las- 
 civionsness,  to  work  all  uiu-leanness  with 
 greediness"  (Jer.  xiii,  23;  Eph.  iv,  18,  19). 
 Anger  is  an  affection  of  depulsion  in  t«od, 
 through  the  punishment  of  the  creature 
 who  has  transgressed  His  law ;  by  which 
 He  brings  upon  the  creature  the  evil  of 
 misery  for  his  unrighteousness,  and  takes 
 the  vengeance  which  is  due  to  Himself,  as 
 an  indication  of  his  love  of  righteousness 
 and  His  hatred  of  sin.  When  this  is  ve- 
 hement, it  is  calle<l  "  Fury"  (Isa.  Ixiii,  3 
 — 5;  Ezek.  xiii,  13, 14;  Isa.  xxvii,  4;  Jer. 
 ix,  9;  Dent,  xxxii,  35;  Jer.  x,  24;  xii,  13; 
 Isa.  Ixiii,  G).  Armiuius, 
 
 GOD— for  AU. 
 
 No  one  claims  propriety  in  the  ocean  to 
 the  exclusion  of  others.  It  is  for  all  nations 
 and  people  to  use  for  their  interests ;  nor 
 is  there  any  fear  of  exhausting  its  re- 
 sources, were  the  whole  world  of  humanity 
 to  make  draughts  upon  it.  It  rolls  its 
 waves  against  every  shore,  and  sends  its 
 tides  into  every  land,  as  if  to  invite  the 
 inhabitants  to  her  riches  and  facilities,  ami 
 as  if  to  show  she  was  the  property  of  all. 
 So  with  the  living  God.  No  nuin  can 
 claim  Him  to  the  shutting  out  of  others, 
 lie  is  the  God  of  all;  for  their  knowledge, 
 their  love,  their  obedience,  their  felicity ; 
 and  should  every  intelligent  being  on  the 
 earth  draw  from  His  treasury  of  good  to 
 the  endless  satisfaction  of  his  nature,  there 
 would  still  be  an  infinite  plenitude  left. 
 And  to  convince  all  that  He  is  their  God, 
 He  gives  to  all  life,  breath,  and  all  things. 
 He  fans  them  with  His  influence;  draws 
 them  by  His  love;  sends  hosts  of  holy 
 agents  to  bring  them  to  Himself.  I?y  ten 
 thousand  attractions  of  love  and  mercy. 
 Ho  invites  the  world  to  plunge  in  His  ful- 
 ness and  bo  satisfied.  Jo/in  Bate. 
 
 The  sun  does  not  shine  for  a  few  trees 
 and  flowers,  but  for  the  wide  world's  joy. 
 The  lowly  pine  on  the  mountain  top  waves 
 its  sombre  boughs  and  cries,  "  Thou  art  my 
 s-un."  And  the  little  meadow  violet  lifts 
 its  cup  of  blue,  and  whispers  with  its  ])cr- 
 fumcd  breath,  "Thou  art  my  sun."  And 
 the  grain  in  a  thousand  fields  rustles  in 
 the  wind  and  makes  answer,  "Thou  art 
 my  sun." 
 
 So  God  sits  effulgent  in  heaven,  not  for 
 n  favoured  few,  but  for  the  univer.-e  of 
 life;  and  there  is  no  creature  so  poor  or  so 
 low  that  he  may  not  look  up  with  child- 
 
GOD. 
 
 like  confidence  and  say,  "  My  Father,  Thou 
 art.  mine."  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 GOD— All-sufficiency  of. 
 
 "  I  am  God  all-sufficient,"  said  the  Lord 
 to  Abraham  (Gen.  xvii,  1).  Meditate  upon 
 this.  He  is  sufficient  for  Himself,  and  for 
 all  others.  Like  His  emblem,  the  sun. 
 He  has  a  fulness  of  light  in  Himself. 
 And  yet,  with  regard  to  the  sun,  were  a 
 thousand  millions  more  creatures  to  crowd 
 the  earth,  not  one  of  them  should  want 
 light  and  heat ;  and  were  a  thousand  more 
 earths  placed  in  the  sweep  of  space,  there 
 are  light  and  vitality  sufficient  for  them 
 all.     The  same  remark  applies  to  God. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 
 When  Antigonus  was  ready  to  engage 
 in  a  sea  fight  with  Ptolemy's  armada,  and 
 the  pilot  cried  out,  "  How  many  are  they 
 more  than  we  ?"  The  courageous  king 
 replied,  '"Tis  true,  if  you  count  their 
 numbers,  they  surpass  us;  but  for  how 
 many  do  you  value  me  ?"  When  our  ene- 
 mies come  upon  us  like  a  flood,  threat- 
 ening to  devour  us  with  rage  and  fury,  let 
 us  remember  that  though  we  are  few  and 
 they  are  many,  our  God  is  the  God  of  sal- 
 vation, and  He  must  be  counted  for  more 
 than  all  that  are  against  us.  Anon. 
 
 GOD— Armies  of. 
 
 In  heaven  He  hath  armies :  of  fire  to 
 burn  Sodom;  oi' floods  to  drown  a  world; 
 of  hailstones  to  kill  the  Amorites ;  of  stars 
 to  fight  against  Sisera;  the  sun  which 
 stood  still  in  Gibeon,  and  the  moon  in  the 
 valley  of  Ajalon,  whilst  Israel  slew  their 
 enemies.  Yea,  there  are  heavenly  soldiers. 
 "  Suddenly  there  was  with  the  angel  a 
 multitude  of  the  heavenly  host."  One  of 
 those  celestial  soldiers  slew  in  one  night 
 above  a  hundred  thousand  Assyrians. 
 
 Below  He  hath  seas  to  drown  Pharaoh ; 
 the  earth  to  devour  Korah ;  with  fierce 
 lions,  fell  dragons,  hissing  serpents,  crawl- 
 ing worms.  He  can  subdue  His  rebels. 
 
 In  hell  He  hath  an  army  oi' fiends,  though 
 bound  in  chains,  that  they  should  not  hurt 
 the  faithful,  yet  let  loose  to  terrify  the 
 wicked.  There  was  an  evil  spirit  to  vex 
 Saul ;  foul  spirits  in  the  Gospel  made  some 
 deaf,  others  dumb,  and  cast  many  into  fires 
 and  into  waters.  T.  Adams. 
 
 GOD — Aspects  of. 
 
 That  God  does  assume  a  varie^/  of  as- 
 pects, the  soul  exercised  in  spiritual  things 
 well  knows.  It  recognises  Him  as  ever 
 the  same  God,  although  under  different 
 developments  of  Himself;  just  as  a  man 
 knows  that  a  prism  is  the  same  prism,  al- 
 though it  exhibits  different  colours  under 
 different  circumstances,  and  at  different 
 times ;  or  as  a  man  knows  that  a  building 
 is  one  and  the  same,  though  at  one  time 
 
 the  most  prominent  object  be  its  massive 
 buttress,  and  at  another  its  tapering  spire. 
 At  one  time,  the  prominent  idea  of  God  is 
 that  of  a  Father ;  and  at  another  that  of  a 
 Ruler :  now  He  is  the  Refuge ;  and  now 
 the  Shadow  for  the  afflicted  soul :  as  is 
 man's  need,  so  is  God's  development  of 
 Himself  toward  him.  P.  B.  Poiver. 
 
 GOD— Blessedness  of. 
 
 Blessedness  is  through  an  act  of  the  un- 
 derstanding :  is  it  not  also  through  an  act 
 of  the  will  ?  Such  is  our  opinion ;  and 
 we  delineate  it  thus : — It  is  an  act  of  the 
 life  of  God,  by  which  He  enjoys  His  own 
 perfection,  that  is  fully  known  by  His 
 understanding,  and  supremely  loved  by  His 
 will;  and  by  which  He  complacently  re- 
 poses in  His  perfection  with  satisfaction 
 (Gen.  xvii,  1 ;  Psa.  xvi,  11 ;  1  Cor.  ii,  9, 
 10).  Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Care  of. 
 
 "  Do  you  see  this  lock  of  hair  ?"  said  an 
 old  man  to  me. 
 
 "  Yes ;  but  what  of  it  ?  It  is,  I  suppose, 
 the  curl  from  the  head  of  a  dear  child  long 
 since  gone  to  God." 
 
 "  It  is  not.  It  is  a  lock  of  my  own  hair ; 
 and  it  is  now  nearly  seventy  years  since  it 
 was  cut  from  this  head." 
 
 "  But  why  do  you  prize  a  lock  of  your 
 own  hair  so  much  ?" 
 
 "  It  has  a  story  belonging  to  it,  and  a 
 strange  one.  I  keep  it  thus  with  care  be- 
 cause it  speaks  to  me  more  of  God,  and  of 
 His    special   care,   than   anything   else   I 
 
 I  was  a  little  child  of  four  years  old, 
 with  long  curly  locks,  which,  in  sun,  or 
 rain,  or  wind,  hung  down  my  cheeks  un- 
 covered. One  day  my  father  went  into 
 the  wood  to  cut  up  a  log,  and  I  went  with 
 him.  I  was  standing  a  little  way  behind 
 him,  or  rather  at  his  side,  watching  with 
 interest  the  strokes  of  the  heavy  axe,  as  it 
 went  up  and  came  down  upon  the  wood, 
 sending  off  splinters  with  every  stroke,  in 
 all  directions.  Some  of  the  splinters  fell  at 
 my  feet,  and  I  eagerly  stooped  to  pick  them 
 up.  In  doing  so  I  stumbled  forward,  and 
 in  a  moment  my  curly  head  lay  upon  the 
 log.  I  had  fallen  just  at  the  moment  when 
 the  axe  was  coming  down  with  all  its 
 force.  It  was  too  late  to  stop  the  blow. 
 Down  came  the  axe.  I  screamed,  and  my 
 father  fell  to  the  ground  in  terror.  He 
 could  not  stay  the  stroke,  and  in  the  blind- 
 ness which  the  sudden  horror  caused,  he 
 thought  he  had  killed  his  boy.  We  soon 
 recovered — I  from  my  fright  and  he  from 
 his  terror.  He  caught  me  in  his  arms,  and 
 looked  at  me  from  head  to  foot,  to  find  out 
 the  deadly  wound  which  he  was  sure  he 
 had  inflicted.  Not  a  drop  of  blood  nor  a 
 scar  was  to  be  seen.     He  knelt  upon  the 
 
GOD. 
 
 grass,  and  gave  tbanlis  to  a  gracious  God. 
 Hiwing  done  so  he  took  up  his  axe,  and 
 found  a  few  hiiirs  upon  its  edge.  He  turned 
 to  the  log  he  had  been  splitting,  and  there 
 was  a  single  curl  of  his  boy's  hair,  sharply 
 cut  through  and  laid  upon  the  wood.  How 
 great  the  escape !  It  was  as  if  an  angel 
 had  turned  aside  the  edge  at  the  moment 
 it  was  descending  on  my  head.  With  re- 
 newed tlianks  upon  his  lips  he  took  up  the 
 curl,  and  went  home  witli  me  in  his  arms. 
 
 "That  lock  he  kept  all  his  days,  as  a 
 memorial  of  God's  care  and  love.  That 
 Zock  he  left  to  me  on  his  death-bed.  I 
 keep  it  with  care.  It  tells  me  of  my 
 father's  God  and  mine.  It  rebukes  unbe- 
 lief and  alarm.  It  bids  me  trust  Him  for 
 ever.  I  have  had  many  tokens  of  fatherly 
 love  in  my  threescore  years  and  ten,  but 
 somehow  tliis  speaks  most  to  my  heart.  It 
 is  the  oldest  and  perhaps  the  most  striking. 
 It  used  to  speak  to  my  father's  heart ;  it 
 now  speaks  to  mine." 
 
 What  say  you,  my  dear  readers?  Is 
 not  this  aa  instance  of  delivering  mercy 
 on  the  part  of  our  gracious  God.  And  this 
 God  is  the  same  kind  Being  who  gave  you 
 life,  and  has  watched  over  and  cared  for 
 you  until  now.  Anon. 
 
 It  was  a  touching  answer  of  a  Christian 
 sailor,  when  asked  why  he  remained  so 
 calm  in  a  fearful  storm,  when  the  sea 
 seemed  ready  to  devour  the  ship  ?  He  was 
 not  sure  that  he  could  swim ;  but  he  said, 
 "  Though  I  sink  I  shall  but  drop  into  the 
 hollow  of  my  Father's  hand;  for  He  holds 
 all  these  waters  there."  Arnot. 
 
 GOD— Clemency  of. 
 
 Clemency  is  a  virtue  by  which  God  so 
 attempers  the  chastisements  and  punish- 
 ments of  the  creature,  even  at  the  very 
 time  when  He  inflicts  them,  that,  by  their 
 weight  and  continuance,  they  may  not 
 equal  the  magnitude  of  the  sins  committed ; 
 indeed,  that  they  may  not  exceed  the 
 strength  of  the  creature.  Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Compassion  of. 
 
 This  is  the  infinite  greatness  of  His 
 mercy  and  love,  whereby  He  relieves  the 
 miseries  of  His  people.  This  perfection  of 
 Jehovah  is  conspicuously  displayed  in  the 
 gift  of  His  Son;  the  revelations  of  His 
 will;  the  bounties  of  His  providence ;  the 
 exercise  of  His  patience;  the  promise  of 
 His  mercy;  the  manifestation  of  His  pre- 
 sence; and  the  provision  of  everlasting 
 life.  C.  Buck. 
 
 GOD— Concern  of. 
 
 Whoever  well  considers  the  state  of  the 
 world,  and  hiiman  experience,  cannot  but 
 conclude  that  God  is  more  concerned  to 
 lualie  man  holy  than  happy ;  for  many  are 
 
 able  to  rest  in  their  sorrows,  for  the  sake 
 of  their  use  and  end,  but  no  one  finds  i-est 
 in  unholy  delights.  In  sinful  pleasure  God 
 follows  man  with  a  scourge;  in  sorrow, 
 with  balm.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 GOD— Decrees  of. 
 
 For  men  to  judge  of  their  condition  by 
 the  decrees  of  God  which  are  hid  from  us, 
 and  not  by  His  Word,  which  is  near  us 
 and  in  our  hearts,  is  as  if  a  man,  wander- 
 ing in  a  wide  sea  in  a  dark  night,  when 
 the  heaven  is  all  clouded  about,  should  yet 
 resolve  to  steer  his  course  by  the  stars 
 which  he  cannot  see,  but  only  guess  at, 
 and  neglect  the  compass  which  is  at  hand, 
 and  would  afford  him  a  much  better  and 
 more  certain  direction'. 
 
 Aa'chhishop  Tillotson. 
 
 GOD — Distance  from. . 
 
 We  cannot  tell  how  fiir  is  the  nearest 
 fixed  star,  and  we  know  tliat  the  mass  of 
 mankind  would  conjecture  it  a  few  miles 
 at  most ;  could  we  approach  nearer,  we 
 would,  for  the  first  time,  learn  hoiv  far 
 we  were !  Surely  it  is  so  with  our  reli- 
 gious estimates  of  approximation  to  the 
 light  and  glory  of  God  ;  the  earth-born 
 crowd  afar,  if  they  think  at  all  of  the 
 matter,  never  dream  themselves  so  darkly, 
 so  remotely  exiled ;  it  is  only  he  who 
 struggles  nearer  and  much  nearer,  that 
 begins  at  length  to  perceive  the  true 
 amount  of  the  distance.        Archer  Butler. 
 
 GOD— Emblems  of. 
 
 One  of  the  most  ancient  hieroglyphic 
 representations  of  God  was  the  figure  of 
 an  eye  upon  a  sceptre,  to  denote  that  God 
 sees  and  rules  all  things. 
 
 The  Egi/ptian  hieroglyphic  was  a  winged 
 globe  and  a  serpent  coming  out  of  it ;  the 
 globe  to  signify  God's  eternity,  the  wings 
 His  active  power,  and  the  serpent  His 
 wisdom. 
 
 The  Thracian  emblem  was  a  sun  with 
 three  beams ;  one  shining  upon  a  sea  of 
 ice  and  melting  it ;  anotlier  upon  a  rock, 
 and  melting  it;  and  a  third  upon  a  dead 
 man,  and  putting  life  into  him.         Bowes. 
 
 GOD — Empire  of. 
 
 We  have  passed  from  planet  to  planet, 
 from  sun  to  sun,  from  system  to  system. 
 We  have  reached  beyond  the  limits  of  this 
 mighty  solar  cluster  with  which  we  are 
 allied.  We  have  found  other  island  uni- 
 verses sweeinng  through  space.  The  great 
 unfinished  problem  still  remains :  Whence 
 came  this  universe  ?  Have  all  these  stars 
 which  glitter  in  the  heavens  been  shining 
 from  all  eternity  ?  Has  our  globe  been 
 rolling  round  the  sun  for  ceaseless  ages  ? 
 Whence  came  this  magnificent  architec- 
 ture, whose  architraves  rise  in  splendour 
 21 
 
370 
 
 GOD. 
 
 before  ns  in  every  direction  ?  Is  it  all  the 
 work  of  chance  ?  I  answer,  No  !  It  is 
 not  the  work  of  chance  !  Who  shall  reveal 
 to  us  the  true  cosmography  of  the  uni- 
 verse by  which  we  are  surrounded  ?  It 
 is  the  work  of  an  Omnipotent  Architect. 
 
 Around  us  and  above  lis  rise  sun  and 
 system,  cluster  and  universe.  And  1  doubt 
 not  that  in  every  region  of  this  vast  em- 
 pire of  God,  hymns  of  praise  and  anthems 
 of  glory  are  rising  and  reverberating  from 
 sun  to  sun,  and  from  system  to  system, — 
 heard  by  Omnipotence  alone  across  immen- 
 sity and  through  eternity ! 
 
 O.  M.  Mitchel. 
 
 GOD— Enemies  of. 
 
 As  Solomon,  in  Jewish  legend,  compelled 
 the  wicked  spirits  to  assist  in  the  temple 
 which  he  was  building,  so  does  God  com- 
 pel even  His  enemies,  and  them,  when  they 
 are  striving  most  fiercely  against  Him,  to 
 do  His  work,  though  they  mean  not  so, 
 and  to  contribute  their  stones  to  that  hea- 
 venly temple  of  which  He  is  the  builder 
 and  the  maker.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 GOD— Essence  of. 
 
 The  essence  of  God  is  "that  by  which  God 
 exists;  or  it  is  the  first \momentum'\  cause 
 of  motion  of  the  Divine  nature  by  which 
 God  is  understood  [esse^. to  exist. 
 
 Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Eternity  of. 
 
 Eternity  is  a  pre-eminent  mode  of  the 
 essence  of  God,  by  which  it  is  devoid  of 
 time  with  regard  to  the  term  or  limits  of 
 beginning  and  end,  because  it  is  of  infinite 
 being ;  it  is  also  devoid  of  time  with  regard 
 to  the  succession  of  former  and  latter,  of 
 past  and  future,  because  it  is  of  simple 
 being,  which  is  never  in  \_potentia]  capa- 
 bility, but  alvvavs  in  act.  Gen.  xxi,  33; 
 Ps.  xc,  2;  Isa.  xHv,  6 ;  2  Tim.  i,  9. 
 
 Ihid. 
 
 What  is  the  eternity  of  God  ?  Existence 
 without  beginning  or  end.  Who  can  com- 
 prehend it  ?  Run  your  thoughts  back,  as 
 far  as  the  utmost  stretch  of  the  imagina- 
 tion, even  millions  of  ages  before  creatures 
 were  made.  God  existed,  and  was  as  old 
 as  He  is  now,  or  as  He  will  be,  when 
 millions  of  ages  more  are  passed  away. 
 From  everlasting  to  everlasting,  He  is 
 God.  Dr.  J.  Campbell. 
 
 God  asks  no  rest,  and  requires  no  slum- 
 ber, but  holds  straight  on  without  weari- 
 ness ;  wearing  out  the  ages,  Himself 
 unworn ;  changing  all  things.  Himself 
 without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turn- 
 ing! God  is  like  the  sun  at  noon,  that 
 casts  down  straight  rays,  and  so  throws 
 
 down  the  shadows  upon  the  ground  under- 
 neath each  tree  ;  but  He  never,  like  the 
 sun,  goes  westward  towards  his  setting, 
 turning  all  shadows  from  under  the  trees, 
 and  slanting  them  upon  the  ground.  God 
 stands  in  eternal  fulness,  like  a  sim  that 
 knows  neithrr  morning  nor  evening  nor 
 night,  but  only  noon,  and  nnon  alwavs. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 GOD— Existence  of. 
 
 Basil  called  the  world  a  school  wherein 
 reasonable  souls  are  taught  the  knowledge 
 of  God.  In  a  musical  instrument,  when 
 we  observe  divers  strings  meet  in  harmony 
 we  conclude  that  some  skilful  musician 
 tuned  them.  When  we  see  thousands  of 
 men  in  a  field,  marshalled  under  several 
 colours,  all  yielding  exact  obedience,  we 
 infer  that  there  is  a  general,  whose  com- 
 mands they  ai-e  all  subject  to.  In  a  watch, 
 when  we  take  notice  of  great  and  small 
 wheels  all  so  fitted  as  to  concur  to  an  or- 
 derly motion,  we  acknowledge  the  skill  of 
 an  artificer.  When  we  come  into  a  print- 
 ing house,  and  see  a  great  number  of  dif- 
 ferent letters  so  ordered  as  to  make  a  book, 
 the  consideration  hereof  maketh  it  evident 
 that  there  is  a  composer,  by  whose  art  they 
 were  brought  into  such  a  frame.  When 
 we  behold  a  fair  building,  we  conclude  it 
 had  an  architect ;  a  stately  ship,  well-rig- 
 ged, and  safely  conducted  to  the  port,  that 
 it  hath  a  pilot.  So  here.  The  visible 
 world  is  such  an  instrument,  army,  watch, 
 book,  building,  ship,  as  undeniably  argueth 
 a  God,  who  was  and  is  the  tuner,  general, 
 and  artificer,  the  composer,  architect,  and 
 pilot  of  it,  Arrotvsmith. 
 
 A  man  that  should  meet  with  a  Palace 
 beset  with  pleasant  gardens,  adorned  with 
 stately  avenues,  furnished  with  well-con- 
 trived aqueducts,  cascades,  and  all  other 
 appendages  conducing  to  convenience  or 
 pleasure,  would  easily  imagine  that  pro- 
 portionable architecture  and  magnificence 
 were  within :  but  we  should  conclude  the 
 man  was  out  of  his  wits  that  should  assert 
 and  plead,  that  all  was  the  work  of  chance, 
 or  other  than  of  some  wise  and  skilful  hand. 
 And  so  when  we  survey  the  bare  out-works 
 of  this  our  globe,  when  we  see  so  vast  a 
 body,  accoutered  with  so  noble  a  furniture 
 of  Air,  Liglit,  and  Gravity;  with  every- 
 thing, in  short,  that  is  necessary  to  the 
 preservation  and  security  of  the  globe  it* 
 self,  or  that  conduceth  to  the  life,  health, 
 and  happiness,  to  the  propagation  and  in- 
 crease of  all  the  prodigious  variety  of  crea- 
 tures the  globe  is  stocked  with ;  when  we 
 see  nothing  wanting,  nothing  redundant 
 or  frivolous,  nothing  botching,  or  ill-made, 
 but  that  everything,  even  in  the  very  ap- 
 pendages alone,  exactly  answereth  all  its 
 ends  and  occasions  j  what  else  can  be  con. 
 
GOD. 
 
 371 
 
 eluded  but  that  all  was  made  with  mani- 
 fest design,  and  that  all  the  whole  struc- 
 ture is  the  work  of  some  intelligent  being; 
 some  Artist  of  power  and  skill  equivalent 
 to  such  a  work.  Derham. 
 
 The  mite  has  eyes,  and  turns  aside  if  it 
 meet  with  such  objects  as  may  be  hurtful 
 to  it ;  place  it  on  anything  that  is  black, 
 for  the  help  of  your  observation,  and  if, 
 whilst  it  is  walking,  you  lay  but  the  least 
 bit  of  straw  in  its  way,  you  will  see  it  alter 
 its  course  immediately ;  and  can  you  think 
 that  the  crystalline  humour,  the  retina, 
 and  optic  nerve,  all  which  convey  sight  to 
 the  little  animal,  are  the  product  of  chance  ? 
 ilcCosh. 
 
 One  evening,  when  Bonaparte  was  on 
 his  voyage  from  Egypt,  a  group  of  officers 
 were  conversing  together  on  the  quarter- 
 deck, respecting  the  existence  of  God. 
 Many  of  them  believed  not  in  His  being. 
 It  was  a  calm,  cloudless,  brilliant  night. 
 The  heavens,  the  work  of  God's  fingers, 
 canopied  them  gloriously ;  the  moon  and 
 the  stars,  which  God  had  ordained,  beamed 
 down  upon  them  with  serene  lustre.  As 
 they  were  flippantly  giving  utterance  to 
 the  arguments  of  atheism,  Napoleon  paced 
 to  and  fro  upon  the  deck,  taking  no  part 
 in  the  conversation,  and  apparently  ab- 
 sorbed in  his  own  thoughts.  Suddenly  he 
 stopped  before  them,  and  said,  in  those 
 tones  of  authority  which  ever  overawed, 
 "  Gentlemen,  your  arguments  are  very 
 fine ;  but  who  made  all  those  worlds 
 beaming  so  gloriously  above  us  ?  Can 
 you  tell  me  that?"  No  one  answered. 
 Napoleon  resumed  his  silent  walk,  and 
 the  officers  selected  another  topic  for  con- 
 versation. AnoH. 
 
 An  Arab,  when  one  day  the  question  was 
 put,  "  How  do  you  know  there  is  a  God  ?  " 
 turned  with  apparent  indignation  upon  the 
 questioner  and  replied,  "  How  do  I  know 
 whether  a  man  or  a  camel  passed  my  tent 
 last  night?"  His  own  footprints  are  the 
 best  evidence  of  the  existence  and  cha- 
 racter of  Jehovah.  Anon. 
 
 GOD— Eye  of. 
 
 How  dreadful  is  the  eye  of  God  on  him 
 who  wants  to  sin!  Do  you  know  about 
 Lafai/eite,  that  great  man  who  was  the 
 friend  of  Washington?  He  tells  us  that 
 he  was  once  shut  up  in  a  little  room  in  a 
 gloomy  prison,  for  a  great  while.  In  the 
 door  of  his  little  cell  was  a  very  small  hole 
 cut.  At  that  hole,  a  soldier  was  placed 
 day  and  night  to  watch  him.  All  he  could 
 see  was  the  soldier's  et/e,  but  that  eye  was 
 always  there !  Day  and  night,  every  mo- 
 ment when  he  looked  up,  he  always  saw- 
 
 that  eye  !  Oh  !  he  says,  it  was  dreadful ! 
 There  was  no  escape,  no  hiding ;  when  he 
 lay  down  and  when  he  rose  up,  that  eye 
 was  watching  him.  How  dreadful  will 
 the  eye  of  God  be  upon  the  sinner,  as  it 
 watches  him  in  the  eternal  world  for  ever ! 
 Br.  J.  Todd. 
 GOD— Faithfulness  of. 
 
 Two  rabbies  approaching  Jerusalem  ob- 
 served a  fox  running  upon  the  hill  Zion, 
 and  Rabbi  Joshua  wejit,  but  Rabbi  Eliezer 
 laughed.  "  Wherefore  dost  thou  laugh?" 
 said  he  who  wept.  "  Nay,  wherefore  dost 
 thou  weep  ?  "  demanded  Eliezer.  "  I 
 weep,"  replied  the  Rabbi  Joshua,  "  be- 
 cause I  see  what  is  written  in  the  Lamen- 
 tations fulfilled;  because  of  the  Mount 
 Zion  which  is  desolate,  the  foxes  walk 
 upon  it."  "  And,  therefore,"  said  Rabbi 
 Eliezer,  "  do  I  laugh ;  for  when  I  see 
 with  mine  own  eyes  that  God  has  fulfilled 
 His  threatenings  to  the  very  letter,  I  have 
 thereby  a  pledge  that  not  one  of  His  pro- 
 mises shall  fail,  for  He  is  ever  more  ready 
 to  show  mercy  than  judgment."         Anon. 
 
 Of  Sertorius  it  is  said  that  he  performed 
 his  promises  by  words  only;  and  of  the 
 Emperor  Pertinax,  that  he  was  rather 
 kind  spoken  than  beneficial  to  any.  Not 
 so  the  Almighty.  Trapp. 
 
 GOD— a  Father. 
 
 Christ  especially  revealed  Him  as  a  Fa- 
 ther. In  His  first  and  last  words  Christ 
 calls  Him  "  Father."  As  a  Father  God 
 thinks  of  us,  loves  us,  w^orks  for  us,  cares 
 for  us,  protects  us,  provides  for  us  in  the 
 future.  Father  is  the  most  endearing 
 appellation  in  which  He  is  made  known 
 unto  us.  *'  1  should  hive  been  a  French 
 atheist,"  said  Randolph,  "  had  it  not  been 
 for  one  recollection,  and  that  was  when 
 my  departed  mother  used  to  take  my  little 
 hands  in  hers,  and  cause  me  on  my  knees 
 to  say,  '  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven.'  " 
 "This  little  word,  Father,"  says  Gurnall, 
 "  lisped  by  faith  in  prayer  by  a  real  Chris- 
 tian, exceeds  the  eloquence  of  Demosthenes, 
 Cicero,  and  all  the  famous  speakers  in  the 
 world."  "  My  life,"  says  Evans,  "  hangs 
 by  a  single  thread;  but  that  thread  is  in 
 a  Father's  hand."  "  I  never  fear,"  said  a 
 little  child,  "  when  my  Father  is  with  me." 
 
 "  My  Father  God  ! "  that  gracious  sound 
 
 Dispels  my  guilty  fear ; 
 Not  all  the  harmony  of  heaven 
 
 Could  so  delight  my  ear."       Johi  Hate. 
 
 He  is  styled  the  "Father  of  glory;" 
 everything  that  is  glorious  is  in  some  way 
 like  Him,  and  bears  His  image.  But  He 
 is  as  well  the  "Father  of  spirits"  as  the 
 Father  of  glory;  He  is  also  the  Father  of 
 
872 
 
 GOD. 
 
 our  Lord  Jesns  Christ  ;  the  Father  of 
 mercies;  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven; 
 our  heavenly  Father.  John  Bate. 
 
 GOD— Favour  of. 
 
 What  a  prodigy  of  favour  is  it  to  us  that 
 He  hath  passed  "by  so  many  forms  of  His 
 creatures,  and  hath  not  set  us  down  in  the 
 rank  of  any  of  them,  till  we  come  to  be 
 "paulo  minores  angelis,"  "a  little  lower 
 than  the  angers  !"  and  yet  from  the  mean- 
 est of  them  God  can  perfect  His  own  praise. 
 The  deeps  and  the  snows,  the  hail  and  the 
 rain,  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  fish  of 
 the  sen,  they  can  and  do  glorify  God,  and 
 give  Him  praise  in  their  capacity ;  and  yet 
 He  gave  them  no  reason,  no  immortal 
 spirit,  or  capacity  of  eternal  blessedness ; 
 hut  He  hath  distinguished  us  from  them 
 hy  the  absolute  issues  of  his  predestination, 
 and  hath  given  us  a  lasting  and  eternal 
 spirit,  excellent  organs  of  perception,  and 
 wonderful  instruments  of  expression,  that 
 we  may  join  in  concert  with  the  morning 
 star,  and  bear  a  part  in  the  chorus  with 
 the  angels  of  light,  to  sing  hallelujah  to 
 the  great  Father  of  men  and  angels. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 GOD — Forgiveness  of. 
 
 Readiness  to  forgive  is  a  virtue  hy  which 
 God  shews  Himself  to  be  exorable  to  His 
 creatures,  and  which  fixes  a  measure  to 
 tlie  limits  of  anger,  lest  it  should  endure 
 for  ever,  agreeably  to  the  demerit  of  the 
 sins  committed.  Arminius. 
 
 "  For  thou.  Lord,  art  good,  and  ready  to 
 forgive"  (Ps.  Ixxxvi,  5).  1.  We  have  not 
 to  persuade  or  argue  Him  into  the  mind 
 to  forgive;  He  is  ready,  through  what 
 Christ  has  done.  2.  He  is  ready  to  for- 
 give all  sins.  3.  He  is  ready  to  forgive 
 all  sinners.  4.  He  is  ready  to  forgive 
 freely.     5.  He  is  ready  to  forgive  now. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 GOD— Forsaking. 
 
 When  the  soul  leaves  God  once,  and 
 looks  downward,  what  is  there  to  stay  it 
 from  disquiet  ?  Remove  the  needle  from 
 the  pole-star,  and  it  is  always  stirring  and 
 trembling,  never  quiet  till  it  be  right 
 again.  So,  displace  the  soul  by  taking  it 
 from  God,  and  it  will  never  be  quiet.  The 
 devil  cast  out  of  heaven  and  out  of  the 
 Church,  keeps  ado;  so  do  unruly  spirits 
 led  by  him.  Sibbes. 
 
 GOD— a  Friend. 
 
 A  heathen  sage  said  to  one  of  his  friends 
 "  Uo  not  complain  of  thy  misfortunes,  as 
 lorig  as  Cffisar  is  thy  friend  I"  What  shall 
 we  say  to  those  whom  the  Prince  of  the 
 kings  of  the  earth  calls  His  sons  and  His 
 brethren  ?  "I  will  never  leave  thee  nor 
 forsake  thee !"     Ought  not  these  words  to 
 
 cast  all  fear  and  care  for  ever  to  the 
 ground  ?  He  who  possesses  Him,  to  whom 
 all  things  belong,  possesses  all  things. 
 
 J)r.  F.  JF.  Krummacher, 
 
 GOD— Fulness  of. 
 
 Though  numberless  drops  be  in  the  sea, 
 yet  if  one  be  taken  out  of  it,  it  hath  so 
 much  the  less,  though  insensibly  ;  but  God, 
 because  He  is  Infinite,  can  admit  of  no 
 diminution,  therefore  are  men  niggardly, 
 because  the  more  they  give,  tlie  less  they 
 have;  but  Thou,  Lord,  mayst  give  what 
 thou  wilt,  without  abatement  of  Thy  store. 
 Good  prayers  never  came  weeping  home; 
 I  am  sure  I  shall  receive  either  what  I  ask 
 or  what  I  should  ask.  Bjp.  Hall. 
 
 A  certain  emperor  coming  into  Egypt, 
 to  show  the  zeal  he  had  to  the  public  good, 
 said  to  the  Egyptians,  "  Draw  from  me  as 
 from  your  river  Nilus ;"  but  what  can  he 
 drawn  fi-om  a  man  but  hopes,  which  swell 
 like  bubbles  of  water  till  they  burst  ?  Ic 
 is  from  God  that  we  must  draw,  for  He  is 
 a  fountain  which  perpetually  distilleth, 
 who  quc^lacheth  the  thirst  of  all  the  world, 
 and  hath  in  Himself  but  one  want,  which 
 is  that  all  men  should  stili  thirst  for  His 
 bounty  and  have  it.  Caussin. 
 
 GOD— Gentleness  of. 
 
 Gentleness  or  lenity  is  a  virtue  hy  which 
 God  preserves  moderation  concerning  anger 
 in  taking  vengeance,  lest  it  should  be  too 
 vehement — lest  the  severity  of  the  anger 
 should  certainly  correspond  with  the  mag- 
 nitude of  the  wickedness  perpetrated. 
 
 Arminius. 
 
 "What  is  the  dew  upon  the  flower,  but 
 God's  gentle  nurturing  of  the  most  delicate 
 and  refined  results  of  vegetation  ?  What 
 is  the  falling  rain,  hut  gentle  drops  of 
 heaven's  love — distilling  verdure  upon  the 
 earth,  and  feeding  the  ear  of  corn  to  pro- 
 vide hrend  for  man  ?  Above  all,  what  is 
 light— penetrating,  invigorating,  inspirit- 
 ing light — light,  making  the  birds  to  sing 
 with  glee ;  light,  making  the  beast  of  the 
 field  to  bask  in  its  warmth ;  light,  making 
 the  insect  happy,  and  the  eagle  to  fix  its 
 gaze ;  light,  unmeasured  light,  free  to  the 
 slave,  wealth  to  the  pauper  ?  It  is  the 
 gentle  beam  of  love  kindled  in  the  eye  of 
 God,  and  looking  tenderness  and  care  upon 
 all  created  things.  Yes;  we  are  encom- 
 ptissed  with  the  gentleness  of  God,  fruc- 
 tifying the  earth,  and  urging  her  onward 
 to  fresh  beauty  and  renewed  fertilitv. 
 
 J.  a  M.  Bellew 
 
 GOD— Glorified. 
 
 He  is  seen,  and  therefore  glorified  in  the 
 order  of  creation.     The  sun,  in  its  tireless 
 
GOD. 
 
 373 
 
 sliining,  the  tides  in  their  regular  flow,  the 
 march  of  the  solemn  s>tars,  the  heautiful 
 harvests,  the  mountains  and  mighty  hills, 
 all  show  forth  His  power,  and  in  their  elo- 
 quent silence  redound  to  their  Creator's 
 praise.  He  is  seen,  and  therefore  glorified 
 in  the  arrangements  of  Providence,  in  the 
 perpetual  presidency  of  the  divine  over 
 human  affairs.  Revolution  always  issuing 
 in  reconstruction,  the  social  compact  and 
 the  familiar  joy,  the  numberless  compensa- 
 tions, which  in  their  beneficent  and  equal- 
 ising action,  have  almost  the  force  and 
 regularity  of  law.  W.  M.  Funslion. 
 
 GOD— Glory  of. 
 
 The  glory  of  God  is  from  His  perfection, 
 regarding  extrinsically,  and  may  in  some 
 degree  be  described  thus  :— It  is  the  excel- 
 lency of  God  above  all  things.  God  makes 
 this  glory  manifest  by  external  acts  in 
 various  ways  (Rom.  i,  23;  ix,  4;  Psa. 
 viii,  1).  But  the  modes  of  manifestation, 
 which  are  declared  to  us  in  the  Scriptures, 
 are  chiefly  two ;  the  one,  by  an  efiulgence 
 of  light  and  of  unusual  splendour,  or  by 
 its  opposite,  a  dense  darkness  or  obscurity 
 (Matt,  xvii,  2 — 5  J  Luke  ii,  9;  Exod.  xvi, 
 10;  1  Kings  viii,  11).  The  other,  by  the 
 producing  of  works  which  agree  with  His 
 perfection  and  excellence  (Psa.  xix,  1 ; 
 John  ii,  11).  Arminius. 
 
 GOD— the  Chief  Good. 
 
 Without. Thy  presence  earth  gives  no  re- 
 flection ; 
 
 Without  Thy  presence,  sea  affords  no 
 treasure ; 
 
 Without  Thy  presence,  air's  a  rank  infec- 
 tion; 
 
 Without  Thy  presence,  heaven  itself  no 
 pleasure ; 
 
 If  not  possessed,  if  not  enjoyed  in  Thee, 
 
 What's  earth,  or  sea,  or  air,  or  heaven  to 
 me? 
 
 The  highest  honour  that  the  world   can 
 
 boast. 
 Are  subjects  far  too  low  for  my  desire; 
 Its  brightest  beams  of  glory  are  at  most 
 But  dying  sparkles  of  Thy  living  fire; 
 The  proudest  flames  that  earth  can  kindle, 
 
 be 
 But  nightly  glow-worms  if  compared  to 
 
 Thee. 
 
 Without  Thy  presence,  wealth  is  hags  of 
 
 care; 
 Wisdom  hut  folly ;  joy,  disquiet  sadness ; 
 Friendsliip   is   treason,   and    delights   are 
 
 snares ; 
 Pleasures  but  pain,  and  mirth  but  pleasing 
 
 madness, 
 Without  Thee,  Lord,  things  be  not  what 
 
 they  be, 
 Nor  have  their  being  when  compared  with 
 
 Th-e. 
 
 In  having  all  things  and  not  Thee,  what 
 
 have  I  ? 
 Not  having  Thee,  what  have  my  labours 
 
 got? 
 Let    me    enjoy    but   Thee,   what   further 
 
 crave  I ? 
 And  having  Thee  alone,  what  have  I  not  ? 
 I  wish  not  sea  nor  land ;  nor  would  I  be 
 Possessed  of  heaven,  heaven  unpossessed  of 
 
 Thee.  Quarles. 
 
 GOD— Goodness  of. 
 
 The  goodness  of  the  Essence  of  God  is 
 that  according  to  which  it  is  essentially  in 
 itself  tlie  Supreme  and  very  good ;  from  a 
 participation  in  which  all  other  things 
 have  an  existence  and  are  good;  and  to 
 which  all  other  things  are  to  be  referred 
 as  to  their  supreme  end ;  for  this  reason  it 
 is  called  communicable  (Matt,  xix,  17 ;  Jas. 
 i,  17;  1  Cor.  x,  31).  Arminius. 
 
 All  the  elements  are  employed,  the 
 jilanets  engaged,  and  the  sun  himself  rises 
 betimes,  and  labours  all  day  long,  to  give 
 verdure  and  freshness  to  the  least  spire  of 
 grass,  to  convey  sap  and  nutriment  to 
 every  little  plant  or  twig. 
 
 There  is  not  the  least  flower  hut  seems 
 to  hold  up  its  head,  and  to  look  pleasantly, 
 in  the  secret  sense  of  the  goodness  of  its 
 heavenly  Maker. 
 
 When  the  spring  comes  the  decrepid 
 tree  grows  young  and  blossoms,  the  grass 
 rises  from  the  dead,  and  the  flowers  step 
 forth  as  if  the  whole  winter's  interval  had 
 been  but  a  sleep,  and  the  places  upon 
 which  they  grew  were  indeed  beds,  with- 
 out a  metaplior. 
 
 Tlie  herb  feeds  upon  the  juice  of  a  good 
 soil,  and  drinks  in  the  dew  of  heaven  as 
 engerly,  and  tlirives  by  it  as  effectually  iis 
 the  stalled  ox  that  tastes  everything  that 
 he  eats  or  drinks.  Dr.  South. 
 
 Every  part  of  nature  seems  to  pay  its 
 tribute  to  man,  in  the  great  variety  of 
 kinds  or  tribes,  as  well  as  the  prodigious 
 number  of  individuals  of  each  various 
 tribe,  of  all  creatures,  There  are  so  many 
 beasts,  so  many  birds,  so  many  insects,  so 
 many  reptiles,  so  many  trees,  so  many 
 plants  upon  the  land ;  so  many  fishes,  sea- 
 plants,  and  other  creatures,  in  the  waters ; 
 so  many  minerals,  metals,  and  fossils,  in 
 the  subterraneous  regions;  that  there  is 
 nothing  wanting  to  the  use  of  man,  or  any 
 other  creature  of  this  lower  world.  The 
 munificence  of  the  Creator  is  such,  that 
 there  is  enough  to  supply  the  wants  and 
 conveniences  of  all  creatures,  in  all  places, 
 all  ages,  and  upon  all  occasions. 
 
 And  this  boundless  variety  is  a  most 
 wise  provision  for  the  uses  of  this  world  in 
 every  age  and  in  every  place.     God  has 
 
374 
 
 GOD. 
 
 created  notliing  in  vain.  Some  things  are 
 for  food,  some  for  physic,  some  for  habita- 
 tion, some  for  utensils,  some  for  tools  and 
 instruments  of  work,  and  some  for  recrea- 
 tion and  pleasin-e,  either  to  man,  or  to 
 some  of  the  inferior  creatures  themselves. 
 
 It  is  evident  that  all  the  creatures  of 
 God  (beasts,  birds,  insects,  and  jjlants) 
 have,  or  may  have  their  several  uses  even 
 among  men.  For  although  in  one  place 
 things  may  lie  neglected,  and  out  of  use, 
 yet  in  another  place  they  may  be  of  great 
 use.  So  what  has  been  rejected  in  one 
 age  has  been  received  in  another;  as  the 
 new  discoveries  in  physic,  and  alterations 
 of  diet,  sufficiently  witness. 
 
 Or  if  there  be  many  things  of  little  im- 
 mediate use  to  man,  in  this  or  any  other 
 age,  yet  to  other  creatures  they  may  aftord 
 food  or  physic,  or  be  of  some  necessary 
 use.  How  many  trees  and  plants,  nay 
 even  the  very  carcases  of  animals,  the  very 
 dust  of  the  earth,  and  the  prodigious 
 swarms  of  insects  in  the  air  and  in  the 
 waters,  of  no  apparent  use  to  man,  yet  are 
 food,  or  medicine,  or  places  of  retreat  and 
 habitation  to  birds,  fishes,  reptiles,  and 
 insects  themselves;  for  whose  happy  and 
 comfortable  subsistence  the  bountiful 
 Creator  has  liberally  provided,  as  well  as 
 for  that  of  man.  Berham. 
 
 Parent  of  good.  Thy  bounteous  hand 
 Incessant  blessings  down  distils; 
 
 And  all  in  air,  or  sea,  or  land, 
 
 With  plenteous  food  and  gladness  fills. 
 
 All  things  in  Thee  live,  move,  and  are ; 
 
 Thy  power  infused  doth  all  sustain ; 
 Even  those  Thy  daily  favour  share, 
 
 Who  thankless  spurn  Thy  easy  reign. 
 
 Thy  sun  Thou  bidd'st  his  genial  ray 
 
 Alike  on  all  impartial  pour; 
 To  all  who  hate  or  bless  Thy  sway. 
 
 Thou  bidd'st  descend  the  fruitful  shower. 
 C.  JFeslei/. 
 
 How  as  God  given  every  creature  a 
 power  most  particularly  to  pursue  and 
 compass  that  which  makes  for  the  welfare 
 of  its  being !  Where  He  denies  strength, 
 he  usually  gives  sagacity  and  quickness  of 
 sense;  and  withal  implants  in  every  one  a 
 certain  instinct,  that  teaches  and  prompts 
 it  to  make  use  of  that  faculty  in  which  its 
 chief  ability  is  seated.  The  ox,  a  creature 
 of  none  of  the  most  ready  senses,  has  them 
 ready  enough  to  know  how  to  defend  him- 
 self, and  will  not  encounter  his  adversary 
 or  assailant,  as  the  mastiff  does,  with  his 
 teeth.  The  little  bird  has  not  strength  to 
 grapple  with  the  hawk  or  the  eagle;  but 
 it  has  agility  of  body  to  carry  it  out  of 
 reach,  and  smallness  too  to  convey  it  out 
 of  sight.  Nay,  and  if  we  consider  the 
 poor    helpless   lamb,   which   has   neither 
 
 strength,  nor  wings,  nor  crafb  to  secure 
 itself  by,  but  seems  wholly  offered  by  nature 
 as  a  prey  to  anything  that  will  prey  upon 
 it;  yet  its  great  usefulness  for  the  occa- 
 sions of  man's  life  has  entitled  it  to  the 
 care  and  protection  of  him  whom  it  serves. 
 So  that  the  goodness  of  God  has  left  no- 
 thing defenceless,  but  has  sent  everything 
 into  the  world  well  accoutred  and  pro- 
 vided, according  to  the  exigence  of  those 
 necessities  that  its  nature  is  like  to  expose 
 it  to.  Dr.  South. 
 
 As  the  sun  sends  forth  a  henign  and 
 gentle  influence  on  the  seed  of  plants,  that 
 it  may  invite  forth  the  active  and  plastic 
 power  from  its  recess  and  secrecy,  that  by 
 rising  into  the  tallness  and  dimensions  of  a 
 tree,  it  may  still  receive  a  greater  and 
 more  refreshing  influence  from  its  foster- 
 father,  the  prince  of  all  the  bodies  of  light ; 
 and  in  all  these  emanations,  the  sun  itself 
 receives  no  advantage,  but  the  honour  of 
 doing  benefits;  so  doth  the  Almighty 
 Father  of  all  the  creatures :  He  at  first 
 sends  forth  His  blessings  upon  us  that  we 
 by  using  them  aright  should  make  our- 
 selves capable  of  greater;  while  giving 
 glory  to  God,  and  doing  homage  to  Him, 
 are  nothing  to  His  advantage  but  only  to 
 ours ;  our  duties  towards  Him  being  vapours 
 ascending  from  the  earth,  not  at  all  to 
 refesh  the  regions  of  the  clouds,  but  to 
 return  back  in  a  fruitful  and  refreshing 
 shower;  and  God  created  us,  not  that  we 
 can  increase  His  felicity,  but  that  He 
 might  have  a  subject  receptive  of  felicity 
 from  Him.  £^.  Taylor. 
 
 GOD — in  Grace. 
 
 He  who  garnishes  the  heavens  beautifies 
 the  soul.  He  who  renews  the  face  of  the 
 earth,  also  restores  the  forfeited  powers  of 
 the  mind ;  for  "  not  by  works  of  righteous- 
 ness which  we  have  done,  but  according  to 
 His  mercy  hath  he  saved  us  by  the  washing 
 of  regeneration  and  the  renewing  of  the 
 Holy  Ghost."  As  no  human  skill  could 
 beautify  the  earth  with  the  treasures  of 
 spring,  so  no  mortal  power  could  have  pro- 
 vided the  robe  of  righteousness  with  which 
 every  soul  must  be  clad  ere  it  can  enter 
 heaven.  Sooner  could  you  weave  the 
 glorious  web  of  summer  beauty,  than  pre- 
 pare a  garb  of  acceptable  righteousness. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Parker, 
 
 GOD— Greatness  of. 
 
 If  philosophy  is  to  be  believed,  our  world 
 is  but  an  outlying  corner  of  creation; 
 bearing,  perhaps,  as  small  a  proportion  to 
 the  great  universe,  as  a  single  grain  bears 
 to  all  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore,  or  one 
 small  quivering  leaf  to  the  foliage  of  a 
 boundless  forest.  Yet,  even  within  this 
 earth's  narrow  limits,  how  vast  the  work 
 
GOD. 
 
 375 
 
 of  Providence!  How  soon  is  the  mind 
 lost  in  contemplating  it !  How  great  that 
 Being  whose  hand  paints  every  flower,  and 
 shapes  every  leaf;  who  forms  every  bud 
 on  every  tree,  and  every  infant  in  the 
 darkness  of  the  womb ;  who  feeds  each 
 crawling  worm  with  a  parent's  care,  and 
 watches  lilie  a  mother  over  the  insect  that 
 sleeps  away  the  night  in  the  bosom  of  a 
 flower;  who  throws  open  the  golden  gates 
 of  day,  and  draws  around  a  sleeping  world 
 the  dusky  curtains  of  the  night ;  who 
 measures  out  the  drops  of  every  shower, 
 the  whirling  snowflakes,  and  the  sands  of 
 man's  eventful  life;  who  determines  alike 
 the  fall  of  a  sparrow  and  the  fate  of  a 
 kingdom ;  and  so  overrules  the  tide  of 
 hum-.m  fortunes,  that  whatever  befall  him, 
 come  joy  or  sorrow,  the  believer  says,  "  It 
 is  the  Lord;  let  Him  do  what  seemeth 
 Him  good/'  Br.  Outhrie. 
 
 GOD — a  Hiding-place. 
 
 1.  A  hiding-place  is  usually  a  strong 
 place  :  God  is  a  strong  God,  almighty. 
 
 2.  A  hiding-place  is  an  invisible  and 
 obscure  place,  not  known  to  everybody,  a 
 place  that  enemies  have  much  ado  to  find  : 
 God  is  invisible,  the  unknown  God  to  sin- 
 ners aiid  the  heathen. 
 
 3.  A  hiding-place  is  a  covering  or  shelter 
 from  many  evils;  from  the  scorching  heat 
 of  the  sun,  the  blustering  storms  of  wind 
 and  hail :  God  is  tlie  hiding-place  of  His 
 people  in  persecution,  temptation,  &c. 
 
 4.  A  hiding-place  frees  from  fear,  and 
 much  abates  the  hurries  and  discomposures 
 of  the  mind.  God,  as  a  hiding-place, 
 allays  the  fears  of  His  people,  and  keeps 
 them  in  constant  peace. 
 
 5.  A  hiding-place  doth  disappoint  the 
 enemies  who  expect  to  devour  those  whom 
 they  seek  :  God  disappoints  the  enemies  of 
 His  people  by  preserving  them  from  their 
 power,  &c.  Keach. 
 
 GOD— Holiness  of. 
 
 It  appertains  to  the  essence  of  God,  to 
 be  divided  from  every  other  thing  ;  and  to 
 be  incapable  of  entering  into  the  compo- 
 sition of  any  other  thing.  While  some 
 persons  ascribe  this  property  to  the  sim- 
 plicity, and  others  to  the  unity  of  God's 
 essence,  several  attribute  it  to  both.  But 
 on  reading  the  Scriptures,  we  find  that 
 holiness  is  frequently  ascribed  to  God, 
 which  usually  designates  a  separation  or 
 setting  apart;  on  this  account,  perhaps, 
 that  very  thing  by  which  God  is  thus 
 divided  from  others,  may,  without  any  im- 
 propriety, be  called  by  the  name  of  Holi- 
 ness (Josh,  xxiv,  19  ;  Isa.  vi,  3  ;  Gen.  ii,  3  ; 
 Ex.  xiii,  2 ;  1  Pet.  ii,  2—9  ;  1  Thess.  v,  23). 
 Therefore  God  is  neither  the  soul  of  the 
 world,  nor  the  form  of  the  universe :    He 
 
 is  neither  an  inherent  form,  nor  a  bodily 
 form.  Arminliis, 
 
 The  holiness  of  God  is  not  to  be  conceived 
 of  as  one  attribute  among  others;  it  is 
 rather  a  general  term  representing  the  con- 
 ception of  His  consummate  perfection  and 
 total  glory.  It  is  His  infinite  moral  per- 
 fection crownins;  His  infinite  intelligence 
 and  power.  There  is  a  glory  of  each 
 attribute  viewed  abstractedly,,  and  a  glory 
 of  the  whole  together.  The  intellectual 
 nature  is  the  essential  basis  of  the  moral. 
 Infinite  moral  perfection  is  the  crown  of 
 the  Godhead.  Holiness  is  the  total  glory 
 thus  crowned.  A.  A.  Sodge. 
 
 GOD- Humility  of. 
 
 In  the  one  hundreth  and  thirteenth 
 Psalm  it  is  stated  that  God  "  humbleth 
 himself  to  behold  the  things  that  are  in 
 heaven,  and  in  the  earth."  If  it  is  humility 
 in  Him  to  look  upon  the  things  of  heaven 
 in  their  purity,  vastness,  magnififence,  and 
 contiguity  to  His  throne  (for  His  tlirone 
 is  in  the  heavens),  what  humility  must  it 
 be  for  Him  to  look  upon  the  things  of 
 earth,  under  the  fall,  in  their  comparative 
 littleness  and  in  their  distance  from  His 
 throne  (for  the  earth  is  His  footstool) ; 
 what  deeper  humility  still,  for  Him  to  look 
 upon  man  in  his  ignorance,  corruption,  and 
 rebellion;  deeper  still  for  Him  to  take 
 the  nature  of  that  man  upon  Him,  and 
 live  for  three  and  thirty  yera-s  in  that 
 nature  with  man  fallen,  on  the  earth ; 
 deeper  yet  to  see  Him  stooping  to  wash 
 the  feet  of  sinners,  to  submit  to  a  male- 
 factor's death.  And  what  is  most  astound- 
 ing of  all  is  that — this  profound  humility 
 is  exercised  for  the  most  disinterested 
 purposes.  He  thus  humbleth  Himself  that 
 "  He  may  raise  up  the  poor  out  of  the 
 dust,  and'  lift  the  needy  out  of  the  dung- 
 hill;, that  He  may  set  him  with  princes, 
 even  with  the  princes  of  His  people,"  vers. 
 7,  8.  Hear  0  heavens,  and  be  astonished. 
 0  earth,  at  this !  John  Bate. 
 
 GOD — Immensity  of. 
 
 Immensity  is  a  pre-eminent  mode  of  the 
 essence  of  God,  by  which  it  is  void  of 
 place  according  to  space  and  limits :  being 
 co-extended  space,  because  it  belongs  to 
 simple  entity,  not  having  part  and  part, 
 therefore  not  having  part  beyond  part. 
 
 Arminius. 
 
 A  million  torches,  lighted  by  Thy  hand, 
 Wander    unwearied   through   the   blue 
 
 abyss ; 
 They   own   Thy  power,   accomplish  Thj 
 
 command. 
 
376 
 
 GOr. 
 
 All   gay  with   life,   all    eloquent    with 
 
 bliss; 
 What  shall  we  call  them  ? — Piles  of  crystal 
 
 light  ? 
 A  glorious  company  of  golden  streams  ? 
 Lamps  of  celestial  ether,  burning  bright  ? 
 Suns,  lighting  systems  with  their  joyous 
 
 beams  ? 
 But  Thou  to  these  art  as  the  noon  to 
 
 night ! 
 
 Yes  !  as  a  drop  of  water  in  the  sea. 
 
 All  this  magnificence  in  Thee  is  lost. 
 What  are  ten  thousand  worlds,  compared 
 to  Thee  ? 
 And  what  am  I,  then?     Heaven's  un- 
 number'd  host, 
 Though  multiplied  by  myriads,  and  array'd 
 
 In  all  the  glory  of  sublimest  thought. 
 Is  but  an  atom,  in  the  balance  weigh'd 
 Against   Tliy    greatness, — is    a    cipher, 
 
 brought 
 Against  infinity !  What  am  I  ?  Nought ! 
 Anon. 
 
 GOD— Immutability  of. 
 
 Immutability  is  a  pre-eminent  mode  of 
 the  essence  of  God,  by  which  it  is  void  of 
 all  change  ;  of  being  transferred  from 
 place,  because  it  is  itself  its  own  end  and 
 good,  and  because  it  is  iunnense  ;  of  gene- 
 ration and  corruption ;  of  alteration ;  of  in- 
 crease and  decrease.  Arminius. 
 
 By  His  immutability  we  mean  that  it 
 follows,  from  the  infinite  perfection  of  God, 
 that  He  cannot  be  changed  by  anything 
 from  without  Himself — that  as  to  His 
 essence.  His  will,  and  His  states  of  existence. 
 He  is  the  same  from  eternity  to  eternity. 
 Thus  He  is  absolutely  immutable  in  Him- 
 self. He  is  also  immutable  relatively  to 
 the  creature,  inasmuch  as  His  knowledge, 
 purpose,  and  truth,  as  these  are  conceived 
 by  us  and  are  revealed  to  us,  can  know 
 neither  variableness  nor  shadow  of  turning 
 (Jam.  i,  17).  A.  A.  Moclc/e. 
 
 GOD— Indefinable. 
 
 As  the  human  mind  is  finite,  and  con- 
 ceives by  defining  the  limits  of  its  thought, 
 and  as  God  is  known  to  us  to  be  infinite, 
 it  is  evident  that  the  human  mind  can 
 never  be  capable  of  conceiving  God  ade- 
 quately as  He  is,  or  of  defining  His  being. 
 Ibid. 
 
 GOD— Indescribable. 
 
 Simonides,  the  philosopher,  being  re- 
 quested to  describe  God,  asked  a  week  to 
 think  of  it ;  and  after  that,  a  month,  and 
 then  a  year ;  then,  being  still  unable,  he 
 declined  the  task,  declaring  that  the  more 
 
 lip  thought  of  so  great  a  Being,  the  less  he 
 was  able  to  describe  Him.  Anon. 
 
 GOD— Infinity  of. 
 
 Infinity  of  Being  is  a  pre-eminent  mode 
 of  the  essence  of  God,  by  which  it  is  devoid 
 of  all  limitation  and  boundary  (Ps.  cxlv, 
 3 ;  Isa.  xliii,  10),  whether  from  something 
 above  it  or  below  it,  from  something  before 
 it  or  after  it.  It  is  not  bounded  by  any- 
 thing above  it,  because  it  has  received  its 
 being  from  no  one.  Nor  by  anything 
 beloiv  it,  because  the  form,  which  is  itself, 
 is  not  limited  to  the  ctipaeity  of  any  matter 
 whatsoever  that  may  be  its  recipient. 
 Neither  by  anything  before  it,  because  it 
 is  from  nothing  efficient ;  nor  after  it,  be- 
 cause it  does  not  exist  for  the  sake  of 
 another  end.  Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Irresistible. 
 
 As  you  stood  some  stormy  day  upon  a 
 sea-clfff,  and  marked  the  giant  billow  rise 
 from  the  deep  to  rush  on  with  foaming 
 crest,  and  throw  itself  thundering  on  the 
 trembling  shore,  did  you  ever  fancy  that 
 you  could  stay  its  course,  and  hurl  it  back 
 to  the  depths  of  ocean  ?  Did  you  ever 
 stand  beneath  the  leaden  lowering  cloud, 
 and  mark  the  lightning's  leap,  as  it  shot 
 and  flashed,  dazzling  athwart  the  gloom, 
 and  think  that  you  could  grasp  the  bnlt 
 and  change  its  path  ?  Still  more  foolish 
 and  vain  his  thought  who  foncies  that  he 
 can  arrest  or  turn  aside  the  purpose  of 
 God,  saying,  "  What  is  the  Almighty,  that 
 we  should  serve  Him  ?  Let  us  break  H's 
 bands  asunder,  and  cast  away  His  oords 
 from  us."  Break  his  bands  asunder  !  How 
 He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh  ! 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 GOD — Justice  and  Mercy  of. 
 
 Justice  and  mercy  are  the  two  arms  of 
 God,  which  embrace,  bear,  and  govern  the 
 whole  world ;  they  are  the  two  engines  of 
 the  great  Archimedes,  which  make  heaven 
 descend  upon  earth,  and  earth  mount  to 
 heaven.  It  is  the  bass  and  treble  string  of 
 the  great  lute  of  Heaven  which  makes  all 
 the  harmonies,  and  tuneable  symphonies  of 
 this  universe.  Now,  as  Mercy  is  infinite, 
 so  is  Justice.  The  Divine  Essence  holdeth 
 these  two  perfections,  as  the  ttvo  scales  of 
 the  balance,  always  equally  poised. 
 
 i\r.  Caussin. 
 
 It  is  the  order  of  God  to  govern  the 
 world  with  two  hands,  which  are  justice 
 and  mercy.  If  you  take  away  one  of  them, 
 you  maim  Him.  It  is  the  condition  of 
 human  and  Divine  things,  where  contrariea 
 are  ever  counterbalanced  by  contraries. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
GOD. 
 
 377 
 
 GOD— a  King. 
 
 Don't  take  God  for  a  tnercliant ;  He  is  a 
 king,  and  what  He  does,  He  does  in  a 
 kingly  way.  Once  there  was  a  poor  woman 
 standing  hefore  the  window  of  a  royal  con- 
 servatory which  looked  into  the  public 
 street.  It  was  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and 
 no  flower  was  to  he  seen  in  the  gardens,  and 
 no  fruit  on  the  trees.  But  in  the  hothouse 
 a  splendid  bunch  of  grapes  hung  from  the 
 glass  ceiling,  basking  in  the  bright  winter 
 sun.  And  the  poor  woman  gazed  at  it  till 
 the  water  came  into  her  mouth,  and  she 
 sighed  :  "  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  take  it  to  my 
 sick  darling !"  She  went  home  and  sat 
 down  to  her  spinning-wheel,  and  wrought 
 day  and  night  until  she  had  earned  half-a- 
 crown.  She  then  went  to  the  king's 
 gardener  and  offered  him  that  sum  for  the 
 bunch  of  grapes ;  but  the  gardener  re- 
 ceived her  unkindly,  and  told  her  not  to 
 come  again.  She  returned  home,  and 
 looked  round  her  little  cottage  to  see 
 whether  there  was  anything  she  could 
 dispense  with.  It  was  a  severe  winter,  yet 
 she  thought  she  could  do  without  a  blanket 
 for  a  week  or  two,  so  she  pawned  it  for 
 half-a-crown,  and  went  to  the  king's 
 gardener  and  now  offered  him  five  shillings. 
 But  the  gardener  scolded  her,  and  took 
 her  by  the  arm  rather  roughly  and  turned 
 her  out.  It  just  happened,  however,  that 
 the  king's  daughter  was  near  at  hand,  and 
 when  she  heard  the  angry  words  of  the 
 gardener  and  the  crying  of  the  woman,  she 
 came  up  and  inquired  into  the  matter. 
 And  when  the  poor  woman  had  told  her 
 story,  the  noble  princess  said  with  a  kind 
 smile,  "  My  dear  woman,  you  were  mis- 
 taken. My  father  is  not  a  merchant,  but  a 
 king;  his  business  is  not  to  sell  but  to 
 give,"  whereupon  she  plucked  the  bunch 
 from  the  vine  and  gently  dropped  it  into 
 the  woman's  apron.  So  the  v/oman  obtained 
 as  a  free  gift  what  the  labour  of  many  days 
 and  nights  had  proved  unable  to  procure 
 her.  So  it  is  with  the  salvation  of  the  soul. 
 It  is  the  gift  of  God  as  a  King. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 GOD— Knowledge  of. 
 
 "He  tclleth  the  number  of  the  stars; 
 He  calleth  them  all  by  their  names."  As- 
 tronomers inform  us  that  one  hundred 
 millions  of  stars  may  be  seen  through  the 
 telescope  in  our  sky,  and  that  each  of  them 
 is  the  centre  of  a  system,  and  has,  therefore, 
 a  sliy  of  its  own,  incalculably  deeper  and 
 broader  than  these  vast  heavens  that  en- 
 circle us.  In  this  supposition  there  is  in- 
 volved a  number  of  "  stars "  which  no 
 arithmetic  can  compute,  and  which  baffles 
 all  imagination  in  the  attempt  to  appre- 
 ciate. But  this,  it  would  seem,  after  all, 
 is  as  nothing  compared  with  the  im- 
 measurable   universe.      Yet    these    stars. 
 
 though  they  cover  immensity  thick  as 
 grass  on  earth's  soil,  or  as  sands  on  ocean's 
 shore,  are  all  known  to  God.  "  He  telleth 
 the  number,"  &c.  He  knows  the  age, 
 productions,  size,  velocity,  influence,  and 
 tenants  of  each.  "Lift  up  your  eyes  on 
 high,  and  behold  who  hath  created  these 
 things,  that  bringeth  oat  their  host  by 
 number;  He  calleth  them  all  by  names." 
 He  marshals  them  as  the  general  his  bat- 
 talions, "  He  binds  the  sweet  influences  of 
 Pleiades,  and  He  loo-es  the  bands  of  Orion. 
 He  bringeth  forth  Mazzaroth  in  His  season, 
 and  He  guides  Arcturus  with  his  sons." 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 1.  God  knows  all  things  from  eternity, 
 nothing  {de  novo)  recently. 
 
 2.  He  knows  all  things  immeasurablj% 
 without  the  augmentation  and  decrease  of 
 the  things  known  and  of  the  knowledge 
 itself  (Ps.  cxlvii,  5). 
 
 3.  He  knows  all  things  immutably.  His 
 knowledge  not  being  varied  to  the  in- 
 finite changes  of  the  things  known  (James 
 
 4.  By  a  single  and  {individus)  undi- 
 vided act,  not  (distractiis)  being  diverted 
 towards  many  things  but  collected  into 
 Himself,  He  knows  all  things.     Arminius. 
 
 The  knowledge  of  God  is  called  simplex 
 intuitus,  a  direct  beholding  and  looking  on 
 all  things,  as  we  do  with  our  eye  upon  one 
 particular  object.  Even  as  if  a  man's 
 body  were  all  an  eye,  he  would  see  as  well 
 backward  as  forward,  and  the  difl'erent 
 positions  of  things  would  be  no  impedi- 
 ment to  his  sight ;  or  as  a  man  on  a  high 
 tower,  that  seeth  many  passengers  going 
 by,  one  after  another,  though  their  motion 
 be  successive,  yet  the  cast  of  liis  eye  behold- 
 ing them  is  in  one  moment.  Hence  the 
 very  heathen  called  God,  totus  ocidus. 
 
 Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 He  seeth  to  the  core  as  well  as  the  skin ; 
 into  the  darkness  as  well  as  the  light ;  into 
 the  thought  as  well  as  the  word ;  into  the 
 most  retired  secrecies  of  the  heart  as  well 
 as  the  most  public  acts  of  the  life.  Even 
 as  an  artificer  that  makes  a  watch,  knows 
 all  its  parts  and  operations,  so  God  knows 
 the  heart  and  all  its  workings.  As  a  man 
 who  might  tell  where  an  arrow  would  fall 
 before  it  left  the  bow,  so  God  can  say  pre- 
 cisely where  such  a  desire,  or  thought,  or 
 intention,  will  end,  and  how  it  will  pro- 
 ceed to  the  end,  hefore  it  leaves  the  council 
 chamber  of  the  heart.  He  knows  the 
 tlioughts  afar  ofi".  The  intents  of  the  heart 
 are  known  to  Him.  He  knew  all  about 
 Adam's  sin,  before  Adam  hid  himself.  He 
 knew  all  about  Gehazi,  before  Elisha  spoice 
 to  him.     It  was  God  that  told  Elisha.     He 
 
378 
 
 60S. 
 
 kuew  all  about  the  sin  of  David,  of  Ananias 
 and  Sappliira,  of  Aclian,  &c..  &c.,  before 
 the  sins  were  publicly  discovered.  His 
 knowledge  brought  them  to  light.  And 
 so  He  knows  all  sins  now  ;  and  by  His 
 knowledge  they  are  exposed,  in  the  use  of 
 means  which  He  first  sets  in  motion. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
 GOD— Our  Knowledge  of. 
 
 A  young  child,  who  has  hitherto  fancied 
 that  the  rim  of  the  sky  rests  on  the  earth 
 a  few  miles  away,  and  that  the  whole  world 
 lies  within  that  circle,  sails  down  the  Forth 
 there,  and  sees  the  river  banks  gradually 
 widening,  and  the  river  passing  into  a 
 frith.  When  he  comes  back,  he  tells  his 
 young  companions  how  large  the  ocean  is. 
 Poor  boy,  he  has  not  seen  the  ocean,  only 
 the  widened  river.  Just  so  with  all 
 creature  knowledge  of  God.  Though  all 
 the  archangels  were  to  utter  all  they  know, 
 tliere  would  still  remain  an  infinity  un- 
 told. Culcross. 
 
 God  is  known  to  us  by  certain  attributes 
 or  modes  of  being,  the  conception  of  which 
 is  possible  to  us,  and  which  truly  repre- 
 sent Him  as  far  as  they  go.  We  conceive 
 of  each  of  these  attributes  as  possessed  by 
 God  in  a  degree  to  which  we  put  no  limits, 
 and  to  which  we  know  that  no  limits  can 
 be  assigned.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 GOD— Life  of. 
 
 To  me  this  is  the  profoundest  of  all 
 truths,  that  the  whole  of  the  life  of  God  is 
 the  sacrifice  of  self.  God  is  love ;  love  is 
 sacrifice — to  give  rather  than  to  receive — 
 the  blessedness  of  self-giving.  If  the  life 
 of  God  were  not  such  it  would  be  falsehood 
 to  say  that  God  is  love ;  for,  even  in  our 
 human  nature,  that  which  seeks  to  enjoy 
 all  instead  of  giving  all,  is  known  by  a  very 
 different  name  from  that  of  love.  All  the 
 life  of  God  is  a  flow  of  this  Divine  self- 
 giving  charity,  creation  itself  is  sacrifice — 
 the  self-importation  of  the  Divine  Being. 
 Redemption  too  is  sacrifice,  else  it  could 
 not  be  love ;  for  which  reason  we  will  not 
 surrender  one  iota  of  the  truth  that  the 
 death  of  Christ  was  the  sacrifice  of  God. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 GOD — long-suffering  of. 
 
 Long-suffering  is  a  virtue  by  which  God 
 
 suspends  His  anger,  lest  it  should  instantly 
 
 hasten  to  the  depulsion  of  the  evil,  as  soon 
 
 as  the  creature  has  by  his  sins  deserved  it. 
 
 Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Love  of. 
 
 History's  noblest  deed  and  record  of  love 
 is  in  the  self  devotion  of  one  generous 
 heathen,  Pylades,  who  forfeited  his  life  to 
 save  his  friend  ,• — but  "  God  commendeth 
 
 His  love  to  us,  in  that,  while  we  were,  yet 
 sinners,  Christ  died  for  us!"  "You  have 
 not  yet  seen,"  says  a  great  writer  and  pro- 
 found thinker,  "  the  greatest  gift  of  all — 
 the  HEART  of  God, — the  love  of  His  heart 
 — the  heart  of  His  love.  And  will  He,  in 
 very  deed  show  us  that  ?  Yes,  unveil 
 that  cross,  and  see.  It  was  His  only  mode 
 of  showing  us  His  heart.  It  is  infinite 
 love  labouring  to  reveal  itself — agonising 
 to  utter  the  fulness  of  infinite  love.  Apart 
 from  that  act,  a  boundless  ocean  of  love 
 would  have  remained  for  ever  shut  up  and 
 concealed  in  the  heart  of  God.  But  now 
 it  has  found  an  ocean-channel.  Beyond 
 this  He  cannot  go.  Once  and  for  ever  the 
 proof  has  been  given — '  God  is  love.'  " 
 
 Macduff. 
 
 It  is  the  nature  of  every  artificer  to 
 tender  and  esteem  his  own  work ;  and  if 
 God  should  not  love  His  creatures,  it  would 
 reflect  some  disparagement  upon  His  work- 
 manship, that  He  should  make  anything 
 that  He  could  not  own.  God's  power  never 
 produces  what  His  goodness  cannot  em- 
 brace. God  oftentimes,  in  the  same  man, 
 distinguishes  between  the  sinner  and  the 
 creature ;  as  a  creature.  He  can  love  him, 
 while  as  a  sinner  He  doth  afflict  him. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 
 There  is  an  Eye  that  never 
 Beneath  the  wing  of  night; 
 There  is  an  Ear  that  never  shuts 
 When  sink  the  beams  of  light. 
 
 There  is  an  Arm  that  never  tires 
 When  human  strength  gives  way; 
 There  is  a  Love  that  never  fails 
 When  earthly  loves  decay. 
 
 That  Eye  is  fix'd  on  seraph  throngs; 
 That  Ear  is  fill'd  with  angel's  songs; 
 That  Arm  upholds  the  worlds  on  high ; 
 That  Love  is  throned  beyond  the  sky. 
 
 £^.  Reber. 
 
 GOD— for  Man. 
 
 See  we  not  that  heaven  is  all  for  earth  ? 
 Doth  it  cause  one  sprig  of  an  herb  to  grow 
 in  itself?  It  giveth  all  it  hath,  and  is 
 perpetually  content  with  what  it  is.  So 
 God  is  all  for  us,  as  if  man  were  His  God, 
 saith  St.  Thomas.  If  we  be  miserable.  He 
 is  not  therefore  disdainful ;  if  He  be  high. 
 He  is  not  therefore  far  distant  from  our 
 inferior  condition.  He  is  all,  in  all  things ; 
 ever  present ;  continually  doing  somewhat 
 for  our  well-being.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 GOD— Mind  of. 
 
 If  the  mind  of  God  as  discovered  to  us 
 in  His  Word  and  works  is  so  vast  and  deep, 
 what  must  His  mind  be  in  all  its  undisclosed 
 resources — in  the  infinity  and  eternity  of 
 its  existence  ?  John  Bate. 
 
GOD. 
 
 379 
 
 GOD— Names  of. 
 
 1.  Jehotah. — It  expresses  self  existence 
 and  unchangeableness.  It  is  the  incom- 
 municable name  of  God,  which  the  Jews 
 superstitiously  refused  to  pronounce,  al- 
 ways substituting  in  their  reading  the 
 word  Adonai,  Lord.  Hence  it  is  repre- 
 sented in  our  English  version  by  the  word 
 LoED,  printed  in  capital  letters. 
 
 Jah. — Probably  an  abbreviation  of  the 
 name  Jehovah,  is  used  principally  in  the 
 psalms.  It  constitutes  the  concluding  syl- 
 lable of  hallelujah,  praise  Jehovah. 
 
 God  gave  to  Moses  His  peculiar  name, 
 I  AM  THAT  I  AM  (Ex.  iii,  14),  from  the 
 same  root,  and  bearing  the  same  funda- 
 mental significance  as  Jehovah. 
 
 2.  El,  might,  poiver,  translated  Ood,  and 
 applied  alike  to  the  true  God,  and  to  false 
 gods  (Isa.  xliv,  10). 
 
 3.  Elohim  and  Eloah,  the  same  name  in 
 its  singular  and  plural  forms;  derived 
 from  the  Hebrew  word,  signifying,  to  fear, 
 reverence.  "  In  its  singular  form  it  is 
 used  only  in  the  latter  books  and  in  poetry." 
 In  the  plural  form  it  is  sometimes  used 
 with  a  plural  sense,  for  gods ;  but  moi-e 
 commonly,  as  a  plitralis  excellentice,  for 
 God.  It  is  applied  to  false  gods,  but  pre- 
 eminently to  Jehovah,  as  the  great  object 
 of  adoration. 
 
 4.  Adonai,  the  Lord,  a  pluralis  ex- 
 cellenticB,  applied  exclusively  to  God,  ex- 
 pressing possession  and  sovereign  dominion; 
 equivalent  to  Kvpiot^,  Lord,  so  frequently 
 applied  to  Christ  in  the  New  Testament. 
 
 5.  Saddai,  Almighty,  a  pluralis  excel- 
 lentiee.  Sometimes  it  stands  by  itself, 
 (Job  v,  17);  and  sometimes  combined  with 
 a  preceding  El  (Gen.  xvii,  1). 
 
 6.  Elyon,  Most  Sigh,  a  verbal  adjective 
 signifying  to  go  up,  ascend  (Ps.  ix,  3 ; 
 xxi,  8). 
 
 7.  The  term  Tzebaoth,  of  hosts,  is  fre- 
 quently used  as  an  epithet  qualifying  one 
 of  the  above-mentioned  names  of  God. 
 Thus,  Jehovah  of  hosts,  Jehovah,  God  of 
 hosts  (Amos  iv,  13  ;  Ps.  xxiv,  10).  Some 
 have  thought  this  equivalent  to  God  of 
 battles  ;  the  true  force  of  the  epithet,  how- 
 ever, is,  "  Sovereign  of  the  stars,  material 
 hosts  of  heaven,  and  of  the  angels  their 
 inhabitants." 
 
 8.  Many  other  epithets  are  applied  to 
 God  metaphorically,  to  set  forth  the  rela- 
 tion he  sustains  to  ns,  and  the  offices  he 
 fulfils;  as  King,  Lawgiver,  Judge,  Rock, 
 Fortress,  Tower,  Deliverer,  Shepherd, 
 Husbandman,  Father.  A.  A.  Jlodge. 
 
 GOD— in  Nature. 
 
 The  Hebrews  had  no  notion  of  what  we 
 denominate  "secondary  laws,"  but  believed 
 that  God  acted  directly  upon  matter,  and 
 was  the  immediate,  efficient  cause  of  the 
 
 solemn  order,  and  the  varied  and  wonderful 
 phenomena  of  nature.  Dispensing  thus 
 with  the  whole  machinery  of  cause  and 
 efiect,  as  we  employ  those  terms  in  philo- 
 sophical language,theirminds\vere  brought 
 into  immediate  contact  with  God  in  His 
 manifold  works,  and  this  gave,  both  to  de- 
 votion and  the  spirit  of  poetry,  the  liveliest 
 inspiration  and  the  freest  scope  of  action. 
 Heaven  and  earth  were  governed  by  His 
 commands  ;  the  thunder  was  His  "  voice  ?" 
 the  lightning  His  "  arrows."  It  is  He 
 who  "  causctb  the  vapour  to  ascend  from 
 the  ends  of  the  earth."  When  the  famished 
 city  should  call  upon  the  corn,  the  wine, 
 and  the  oil,  and  those  should  call  upon  the 
 earth  for  nourishment,  and  the  parched 
 earth  should  call  upon  the  heavens  for 
 moisture,  and  the  heavens  should  call  upon 
 the  Lord  for  permission  to  refresh  the 
 earth,  then  Jehovah  would  hear  and  supply. 
 He  gave  the  rain,  and  He  sent  the  drought 
 and  famine.  The  clouds  were  not  looked 
 upon  merely  as  sustained  by  a  law  of 
 specific  gravity,  but  God  spread  them  out 
 in  the  sky  ;  these  clouds  were  God's  chariot, 
 the  curtains  of  His  pavilion,  the  dust  of 
 His  feet.  Snow  and  hail  were  fearful 
 manifestations  of  God,  often  sent  as  the 
 messengers  of  His  wrath.     F.  G.  Hibbard. 
 
 Standing  at  Chamounix  before  the  snow- 
 crowned  monarch  of  the  hills,  a  poet  breaks 
 the  awful  silence  thus : — 
 
 Ye  ice-falls  !     Ye  that  from  the  mountains' 
 
 brow 
 Adown  enormous  ravines  slope  amain — 
 Torrents,  methinks,  that  heard  an  awful 
 
 voice 
 And  stopped  at  once,  amidst  their  maddest 
 
 plunge. 
 Motionless  torrents !     Silent  cataracts 
 Who   made  you  glorious  as  the   gates  of 
 
 Heaven 
 Beneath  the  keen  full  moon  ?     Who  bade 
 
 the  sun 
 Clothe   ye   with   rainbows  ?      Who    with 
 
 living  flowers 
 Of  loveliest  blue,  spread  garlands  at  your 
 
 feet  ? 
 God!    let   the   torrents,  like   a   shout   of 
 
 nations 
 Answer,  and  let  the  ice-plains  echo  God ! 
 God  1    sing  ye  meadow  streams  with  glad- 
 some voice. 
 Ye  pine  groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like 
 
 sounds ! 
 And   they  too   have  a  voice,  ye   piles   of 
 
 snow, 
 And   in  their  perilous  fall  shall  thunder 
 
 God !  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 GOD — Omnipotence  of 
 
 The  omnipotency  or  infinity  of  His 
 power  consistejih  in  an  ability  to  act,  per- 
 
380 
 
 GOD. 
 
 form  and  prndu'^o  \vliatso9VPr  ran  be  acted 
 and  produced,  without  any  possibilityofim- 
 podiment  or  resistance,  and  in  this  respect 
 He  is  represented  to  us  an  "Almighty 
 God."  And,  therefore,  such  an  omnipotency 
 we  ascribe  unto  Him,  which  is  sufficiently 
 delivered  in  the  Scriptures  ;  First,  by  the 
 testimony  of  an  angel,  "  For  with  God 
 nothinir  shall  be  impossible"  (Luke  i,  37). 
 Secondly,  by  the  testimony  of  Christ  him- 
 self, who  said,  "  With  men  it  is  impossible, 
 but  not  with  God  ;  for  with  God  all  things 
 are  possible"  (Mark  x,  27).  Now  He  to 
 whom  all  things  are  possible,  and  to  whom 
 nothing  is  impossible  is  truly  and  properly 
 omnipotent.  Thus  whatsoever  doth  not 
 in  itself  imply  a  repugnancy  of  being  or 
 subsisting,  bath,  in  reference  to  the  power 
 of  God  a  possibility  of  production ;  and 
 whatsoever,  in  respect  of  the  power  of 
 God,  hath  an  impossibility  of  production, 
 must  involve  in  itself  a  repugnancy  or  con- 
 tradiction. Bp.  Pearson. 
 
 GOD — Omnipresence  of. 
 
 To  the  Hebrews,  tbe  external  universe 
 is  just  a  black  screen  concealing  God.  All 
 things  are  full  of,  yet  all  distinct  from,  Him. 
 The  cloud  on  the  mountain  is  His  covering ; 
 the  muttering  from  the  chambers  of  the 
 thunder  is  His  voice;  that  sound  on  the 
 top  of  the  mulberry  trees  is  His  "  going ;" 
 in  that  wind,  which  bends  the  forest  or 
 curls  the  clouds  He  is  walking;  that  sun 
 is  His  still  commanding  eye.  Whither 
 can  they  go  from  His  spirit  ?  whither  can 
 they  flee  from  His  presence  ?  At  every 
 step  and  in  every  circumstance,  they  feel 
 themselves  God-inclosed,  God-filled,  God- 
 breathing  men  with  a  spiritual  presence 
 lowering  or  smiling  on  them  from  the  sky, 
 sounding  in  wild  tempest,  or  creeping  in 
 panic  stillness  across  the  surface  of  the 
 earth;  and  if  they  turn  within,  lo !  it  is 
 there  also — an  "  eye  "  hung  in  the  central 
 darkness  of  their  own  hearts.  Hence  the 
 muse  of  the  Hebrew  bard  is  not  dame 
 memory,  nor  any  of  her  syren  daughters, 
 but  the  Almighty,  all-pervading  Spirit 
 Himself,  who  is  at  once  the  subject,  the 
 auditor,  and  the  inspirer  of,  the  sons^. 
 
 Gilfillan. 
 
 What  art  Thou,  mighty  One  ?    and  where 
 
 Thy  seat  ? 
 Thou  broodest  on  the  calm   that   cheers 
 
 the  lauds, 
 And   Thou   dost  bear   within   Thy  awful 
 
 hands 
 The   rolling  thunders  and  the  lightnings 
 
 fleet; 
 Stern  on  Thy  dark-wrought  car  of  cloud 
 
 and  wind 
 Thou  guid'st  the  northern  storm  at  night's 
 
 dread  noon,  [soon 
 
 Or  on  the  red  wing  of  the  fierce  mon- 
 
 Disturb'st  the  sleeping  giant  of  the  lud. 
 In  the  drear  silence  of  the  polar  span. 
 Dost  Thou  repose  ?  or  in  the  solitude 
 Of  sultry  tracks,  where  the  lone  caravan 
 Hears   nightly   howl   the   tigei"'s   hungry 
 brood  ?  [to  trace. 
 
 Vain  thought !  the  confines  of  His  throne 
 Who  glows  through  all  the  fields  of  bound- 
 less space.  H.  K.  White. 
 
 A  heathen  philosopher  once  asked  a 
 Christian,  "  Where  is  God  ?"  The  Chris- 
 tian  answered,  "  Let  me  first  ask  you. 
 Where  is  He  not  ?"  Arrowsmith. 
 
 A  man  who  was  in  the  habit  of  going 
 into  a  neighbour's  corn-field  to  steal  the 
 ears,  one  day  took  his  son  with  him,  a  boy 
 of  eight  years  of  age.  The  father  told  him 
 to  hold  the  bag,  while  he  looked  if  any  one 
 was  near  to  see  him.  After  standing  on 
 the  fence,  and  peeping  through  all  the 
 corn  rows,  he  returned  and  took  the  bag 
 from  the  child,  and  began  his  guilty  woi-k. 
 "Father,"  said  the  boy,  "you  forgot  to 
 look  somewhere  else."  The  man  dropt  the 
 bag  in  a  fright,  and  said,  "  Which  way, 
 child  ?"  supposing  he  had  seen  some  one. 
 "  You  forgot  to  look  up  to  the  sky,  to  see 
 if  God  was  noticing  you."  The  father  felt 
 this  reproof  of  the  child  so  much,  that  he 
 left  the  corn,  returned  home,  and  never 
 again  ventured  to  steal ;  remembering  the 
 truth  his  child  had  taught  him,  that  the 
 eye  of  God  always  beholds  us. 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 
 "  The  Lord's  throne  is  in  the  heavens  and 
 His  kingdom  ruleth  over  all."  A  man  might 
 as  well  think  of  going  out  of  the  dominion 
 of  Queen  Victoria  in  removing  from  London 
 to  York,  as  the  sinner  think  of  hiding 
 himself  from  God  by  going  from  light  to 
 darkness,  from  publicity  to  privacy,  or 
 from  one  part  of  the  earth  to  the  other.  If 
 he  go  to  the  heavens  He  is  there ;  to  the 
 depths  of  the  sea  He  is  there;  to  the  ends 
 of  the  earth  He  is  there.  John  Bate. 
 
 If  you  were  cast  out  of  your  country  a 
 thousand  miles  off",  you  are  not  out  of  God's 
 precinct;  His  arm  is  there  to  cherish  the 
 good,  as  well  as  to  drag  out  the  wicked ; 
 it  is  the  same  God,  the  same  presence  in 
 every  country,  as  well  as  the  same  sun, 
 moon  and  stars ;  and  were  not  God  every- 
 where, yet  He  would  not  be  meaner  than 
 His  creature,  the  sun  in  the  firmament, 
 wiiich  visits  every  part  of  the  habitable 
 world  in  twenty-four  hours.         CharnocJc. 
 
 GOD — Omniscience  of. 
 
 The  present  moment !  What  scenes  pre- 
 sent themselves  throughout  the  world  in 
 this  actual  point   of  time.     The   sun  is 
 
GOD. 
 
 rising  over  peaceful  villages  and  cultivated 
 fields;  liis  noontide  glare  quivers  over 
 sandy  deserts;  and  the  purple  shades  of 
 evening  are  falling  over  forest  and  moor. 
 One  half  of  the  world  is  in  darkness.  Upon 
 such  varied  scenes  does  the  eye  of  God 
 rest.  But  among  the  many  millions  of 
 the  human  race,  scattered  through  so 
 many  countries  and  climates,  not  one 
 human  being  is  hidden.  Man  can  hide 
 himself  from  his  fellows.  He  can  bury 
 himself  in  the  darkness  of  night ;  withdraw 
 into  the  recesses  of  buildings,  the  depths 
 of  forests,  or  the  loneliness  of  deserts.  But 
 none  can  hide  himself  from  God.  "  Whither 
 shall  I  go  from  Thy  S;  ';  it  ?  or  whither 
 shall  I  flee  from  Thy  presence  ?  if  I  say. 
 Surely  the  darkness  shall  cover  me  ;  even 
 the  night  shall  be  light  about  me.  Yea, 
 the  darkness  hideth  not  from  Thee ;  but 
 the  night  shineth  as  the  day  :  the  dark- 
 ness and  the  light  are  both  alike  to  Thee." 
 This,  then,  is  the  grand  truth  which  so 
 much  concerns  us — that  all  human  beings 
 are  continuously  in  the  sight  of  the  most 
 high  God.  At  one  glance.  He  observes 
 the  prisoner  in  his  cell,  and  the  king  in  his 
 palace;  the  crowds  of  great  cities,  the 
 mariners  in  ships — "  fragments  of  a  world" 
 — upon  the  silent  waters;  nobility  and 
 beauty  in  the  gilded  saloon,  wretchedness 
 and  poverty  huddled  on  the  straw  of 
 miserable  cellars.  In  that  immediate  and 
 unbroken  glance,  the  countries  of  the 
 earth,  the  circumstances  of  each  individual, 
 as  well  as  of  each  great  nation,  are  aU  com- 
 prised. Hero,  where  industry  and  peace 
 have  filled  the  land  with  busy  cities  and 
 waving  plenty;  or  again,  where  desolation 
 has  swept  like  the  angel  of  death,  and  left 
 in  its  track  trampled  harvests,  deserted 
 hearths,  and  untimely  graves ;  in  all  the 
 vast  assemblage  of  human  beings  that  now 
 people  the  earth  there  is  not  one  whose 
 present  position  and  lot  are  forgotten 
 before  the  God  and  Father  of  us  all. 
 
 Every  action,  likewise,  that  is  now  trans- 
 piring in  the  world  is  manifest.  None  is 
 so  impoi'tant  as  to  engross  His  attention, 
 none  so  minute  as  to  elude  His  observation. 
 How  innumerable  are  those  acts!  How 
 vast  the  capacity  that  at  one  glance  can 
 sum  up  that  number !  Yet  the  Divine 
 Mind,  with  infinite  ease,  embraces  all,  alike 
 in  their  number  and  in  their  diversity. 
 Deeds  of  piety  and  sin,  justice  and  in- 
 justice, love  and  violence,  benevolence  and 
 hatred ;  the  countless  variety  of  acts 
 springing  from  desires,  appetites,  passions, 
 with  all  their  combinations  and  conse- 
 quences, are  "  naked  and  opened  unto  the 
 eyes  of  Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do." 
 
 /.  w:  p. 
 
 He  seeth  things  done  in  light,  and  be- 
 holdeth  that  which  is  covered  with  dark- 
 
 ness ;  He  is  privy  unto  men's  thoughts ; 
 He  knew  the  spitel'ul  and  mnlicious  pur- 
 poses of  the  scribes  and  pharisees;  He 
 espied  Adam  biting  the  forbidden  fruit: 
 He  looked  upon  Cain  shedding  his  brother's 
 blood ;  He  perceived  the  secret  sins  of 
 Sodom ;  He  understood  the  corruption  of 
 Gehazi,  and  make  it  manifest ;  He  saw  the 
 double  heart  of  Judas,  who  kissed  his 
 Master  and  betrayed  Him ;  He  beheld 
 Siba  when  he  falsely  and  traitorously 
 accused  Mephiboseth  unto  David.  The 
 cloaked  adultery  and  murder  which  David 
 had  covered  with  clouds  of  policy  could  not 
 be  hidden  from  His  eye  ;  the  lie  of  Ananias 
 was  written  in  capital  letters  before  Him, 
 plain  to  be  read;  the  sleights  and  con- 
 veyances of  the  usurer  cannot  be  covered 
 with  fig-tree  leaves  from  the  sight  of  the 
 Almighty  ;  there  is  neither  bribe  given  nor 
 taken  but  God  looketh  upon  it ;  there  is  no 
 treachery  or  treason  that  can  be  liid  from 
 Him.  Archhisliop  Sandys, 
 
 GOD — Passibleness  of. 
 
 There  must  be  some  kind  of  passible- 
 ness  in  God,  else  tliere  could  be  no  genuine 
 character  in  Him.  If  He  could  not  be 
 pained  by  anything,  could  not  suflcr  any 
 kind  of  wound,  had  no  violable  sympathy. 
 He  would  be  anything  but  a  perfect  cha- 
 racter. A  cast-iron  deity  could  not  com- 
 mand our  love  and  reverence.  The  beauty 
 of  God  is  that  He  has  feeling,  and  feels 
 appropriately  toward  everything  done ; 
 that  He  feels  badness  as  badness,  and 
 goodness  as  goodness — pained  by  one, 
 pleased  by  the  other.  There  must  be  so 
 much,  or  such  kind  of  passibility  in  Him, 
 that  He  will  feel  toward  everything  as  it 
 is,  and  will  be  diversely  affected  by  diverse 
 things,  according  to  their  quality.  If 
 wickedness  and  wrong  stirred  nothing  in 
 Him  diflerent  from  what  is  stirred  by  a 
 prayer,  if  He  felt  no  disafiection  towiird  a 
 thief  which  He  does  not  feel  toward  a 
 martyr,  no  pleasure  in  a  martyr,  faithful 
 unto  death,  which  He  does  not  in  His  per- 
 secutors. He  would  be  a  kind  of  no- 
 character.  We  can  hardly  conceive  such 
 a  being.  Dv.  Bushiell. 
 
 GOD — Patience  of. 
 
 Patience  is  that  by  which  God  patiently, 
 endures  the  absence  of  a  good  that  is  loved, 
 desired,  and  hoped  for,  and  the  presence  of 
 an  evil  that  is  hated;  and  which  spares 
 sinners,  not  only  that  He  may  through 
 them  execute  the  judicial  acts  of  His 
 mercy  and  justice,  but  that  He  may  like- 
 wise lead  them  to  repentance;  or  may 
 punish  with  the  greater  equity  and  more 
 grievously,  the  contumacious.  (Isa.  v,  4; 
 Ez.  xviii,  23 ;  Matt,  xxi,  33-41 ;  Luke  xiii, 
 6-y;  Eom.  ii,  4,  5;  2  Pet.  iii,  9.) 
 
 Armiiilus. 
 
GOD. 
 
 GOD— Patience  of. 
 
 Suppose  a  man  should  come  into  a  curi- 
 ous artificer's  shop,  and  there  with  one 
 blow  dash  in  pieces  such  a  piece  of  art  that 
 had  cost  many  years'  study  and  pains  in 
 the  contriving  thereof,  how  could  be  bear 
 with  it,  how  would  he  take  on  to  see  the 
 workmanship  of  his  hands  so  rashly,  so  wil- 
 fully destroyed  ?  He  could  not  but  take  it 
 ill,  and  be  much  troubled  thereat.  Thus 
 it  is,  that  as  soon  as  God  had  set  up  and 
 perfected  the  frame  of  the  world,  sin  gave 
 a  subtile  shake  to  all,  it  unpinned  the 
 frame,  and  had  like  to  have  pulled  all  in 
 pieces  again  ;  nay,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
 promise  of  Christ  all  this  goodly  frame  had 
 been  reduced  to  its  primitive  nothing 
 again.  Man  by  his  sin  had  pulled  down 
 all  about  his  ears,  but  God  in  mercy  keeps 
 it  up ;  man  by  sin  provokes  God,  but  God 
 in  mercy  passeth  by  all  affronts  whatsoevei-, 
 O  the  wonderful  mercy ;  0  the  omnipotent 
 patience  of  God !  Sjpencer. 
 
 GOD— Perfection  of. 
 
 From  the  simple  and  infinite  combination 
 of  all  His  attributes,  when  they  are  con- 
 sidered with  the  mode  of  pre-eminence, 
 the  perfection  of  God  has  its  existence.  It 
 may  fitly  be  described  thus : — "  It  is  the 
 interminable,  the  entire,  and,  at  the  same 
 time,  the  perfect  possession  of  essence 
 and  life "  (Matt,  v,  48 ;  Gen.  xvii,  1 ; 
 Exod.  vi,  3;  "Acts  xvii,  25 ;  James  i,  17). 
 This  perfection  of  God  infinitely  exceeds 
 the  perfection  of  all  the  creatures,  on  a 
 threefold  account.  For  it  possesses  all 
 things  in  a  mode  the  most  perfect,  and 
 does  not  derive  them  from  another.  But 
 the  perfection  which  the  creatures  possess, 
 they  derive  from  God,  and  it  is  faintly 
 shadowed  forth  after  its  archetype.  Some 
 creatures  have  a  larger  portion  (of  this 
 derived  perfection)  than  others;  and  the 
 more  of  it  they  possess,  the  nearer  they  are 
 to  God  and  have  the  greater  likeness  to 
 Him  (Rom.  xi,  35,  36;  1  Cor.  iv,  7;  Acts 
 xvii,  28,  29;  2  Cor.  iii,  18;  2  Pet.  i,  4). 
 
 Armliiius. 
 GOD— our  Portion. 
 
 As  the  scattered  rays  of  light  are  all  in- 
 cluded in  the  focus,  as  the  fountain  contains 
 the  streams,  as  the  object  reftected  is  prior 
 to  and  nobler  than  the  different  reflections 
 of  it— so  all  finite  and  created  good  is  con- 
 tained in  Him  who  is  the  supreme  good ; 
 all  earthly  excellence  is  but  the  partial 
 emanation,  the  more  or  less  bright  re- 
 flection of  the  Great  Original.  To  have  a 
 portion,  therefore,  in  God,  is  to  possess 
 that  which  includes  in  itself  all  created 
 good.  The  man  who  is  in  possession  of 
 some  great  masterpiece  in  painting  or 
 sculpture,  need  not  envy  others  who  have 
 only  casts   or  copies  of  it.     The  original 
 
 plate  or  stereotype  is  more  valuable  than 
 any  impressions  or  engravings  thrown  off 
 from  it;  and  he  who  owns  the  former 
 owns  that  which  includes,  is  capable  of 
 producing  all  ..he  latter  ....  Surveying 
 the  wonders  of  creation,  or  even  with  the 
 word  of  inspiration  in  his  hand,  the  Chris- 
 tian can  say,  "  Glorious  though  these  things 
 be,  to  me  belongs  that  which  is  more 
 glorious  far.  The  streams  are  precious, 
 but  I  have  the  Fountain;  the  vesture  is 
 beautiful,  but  the  Weaver  is  mine ;  the 
 portrait  in  its  every  lineament  is  lovely,  but 
 that  Great  Original,  whose  beauty  it  but 
 feebly  depicts,  is  mine,  my  own.  '  God  is 
 my  portion,  the  Lord  is  mine  inheritance.' 
 To  me  belongs  all  actual  and  all  possible 
 good,  all  created  and  uncreated  beauty,  all 
 that  eye  hath  seen  or  imagination  con- 
 ceived ;  and  more  than  that,  for  eye  hath 
 not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered 
 into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  what 
 God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  Him. 
 All  things  and  beings,  all  that  life  reveals 
 or  death  conceals,  everything  within  the 
 boundless  possibilities  of  creating  wisdom 
 and  power  is  mine ;  for  God,  the  Creator 
 and  Fountain  of  all  is  mine." 
 
 Dr.  Caird. 
 
 GOD— Power  of. 
 
 How  much  is  contained  within  a  small 
 acorn  cup  !  When  a  little  child  holds  an 
 acorn  in  his  hand,  it  holds  not  a  small  nut 
 only,  but  a  forest ;  for  folded  within  its 
 tiny  shell  lie  trees,  and  their  children  trees 
 — even  a  whole  forest. 
 
 How  wonderful   was  the   command  of 
 
 God !    "  Let  the  earth  bring  forth the 
 
 tree  yielding  fruit  whose  seed  is  in  itself." 
 It  isa  miracle  to  make  a  tree;  but  how 
 much  more  wonderful  a  miracle  to  give  to 
 the  tree  the  power  of  producing  other 
 trees  in  long  succession  for  countless 
 years ! 
 
 A  watch  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most 
 beautiful  and  wonderful  things  ever  made 
 by  man,  but  what  would  you  think  of  a 
 watch  which,  if  put  in  the  ground,  could 
 produce  many  more  watches  ?  Does  not 
 this  comparison  show  us  how  much  greater 
 God's  work  is  than  man's  ?  Anon. 
 
 It  is  a  power  to  create,  to  preserve,  or 
 to  destroy ;  a  power  to  bless  or  to  curse ; 
 to  save  or  to  condemn  ;  to  consign  to  hell 
 or  to  exalt  to  heaven.  It  is  a  power  which 
 can  fling  a  world  from  its  hand,  or  can  make 
 an  insect  to  flutter  in  the  sunbeam ;  a 
 power  that  can  start  a  globe  of  light  in  its 
 course,  or  give  life  to  the  glow-worm  of  a 
 summer's  eve ;  that  can  bespangle  the  fir- 
 mament with  beautifnl  starry  worlds,  or 
 scatter  flowers  of  loveliness  and  fragrance 
 upon  the  face  of  the  earth.         John  Bale. 
 
GOD. 
 
 GOB— Power  of. 
 
 Ou  August  1,  1816,  St.  George's  church, 
 recently  built  at  Leicester,  was  entirely 
 destroyed  by  the  eflects  of  a  thunder- 
 storm. The  steeple  was  burst  asunder, 
 and  parts  of  it  were  blown  thirty  feet ; 
 while  the  vane-rod  and  top  part  of  the 
 spire  fell  perpendicularly  down,  carrying 
 with  it  every  floor  in  the  tower.  Mr. 
 Highton,  in  comparing  the  power  of  this 
 discharge  of  lightning  with  some  known 
 mechanical  force,  states,  that  100  tons  of 
 stone  were  blown  a  distance  of  thirty  feet 
 in  three  seconds;  consequently  a  12,220 
 horse-power  engine  would  have  been  re- 
 quired to  resist  the  effects  of  this  single 
 flash.  Timbs. 
 
 If  such  is  the  power  of  a  single  flash, 
 what  must  he  the  power  of  all  the  elec- 
 tricity at  the  Divine  command  ?  and  what 
 the  power  of  Him  who  is  the  Sovereign 
 Ruler  of  all  things  P  John  Bate. 
 
 You  have  marked  the  spring  as  it  has 
 unfolded  its  mantle,  and  hung  it  grace- 
 fully on  the  shoulders  of  the  hills,  and 
 spread  its  gifts  of  flowers  on  the  lap  of  the 
 grateful  earth ;  that  is  a  manifestation  of 
 God's  all  transforming  power.  You  have 
 marked  the  blustering  winter,  as  it  has 
 torn  off  that  verdant  robe,  and  blown  out 
 the  floral  lights ;  that,  too,  is  a  display  of 
 God's  all-changing  power.     Br.  J.  Parker. 
 
 We  speak  of  the  power  of  light,  heat, 
 water,  wind,  electricity,  beauty,  know- 
 ledge, holiness,  law,  life,  death  ;  but  uone 
 of  these  isolated  or  even  in  combination  as 
 they  operate  throughout  the  universe,  can 
 give  us  an  adequate  idea  of  the  power  of 
 Him  from  whom  they  came,  and  whose 
 purposes  they  serve.  We  speak  of  the 
 power  of  man  in  his  science,  mechanism, 
 laws,  armies,  steamships,  &c. ;  of  the  power 
 of  angels  in  all  the  ways  revealed  in  Scrip- 
 ture; but  these  powers  united  with  the 
 former  fall  infinitely  short  of  the  power  of 
 God.  The  concentrated  power  of  the 
 whole  universe,  weighed  with  His,  would 
 be  lighter  than  vanity.  John  Bate. 
 
 The  power  of  God  in  its  exercise  is  under 
 the  government  of  His  wisdom,  love,  truth, 
 and  goodness — attributes  equal  with  His 
 power.  Ihid. 
 
 GOD— Reasons  of. 
 
 An  amiable  and  intelligent  child  never 
 reasons  thus  : — "  My  father's  plans  are  in- 
 scrutable to  me ;  and,  therefore,  I  cannot 
 tell  whether  the  steps  he  may  next  take 
 will  be  for  my  benefit,  or  for  my  hurt : 
 since  I  cannot  understand  his  reasons  for 
 occasionally   subjecting   me    to  paiu   and 
 
 privation,  I  cannot  be  sure  whether  he  may 
 not  hereafter,  for  some  reason  unintelligible 
 to  me,  devote  me  undeservedly  to  destruc- 
 tion ;  and  therefore  I  have  no  ground  for 
 trusting  to  his  kindness."  Such,  I  say, 
 are  not  the  thoughts  that  occur  to  a  well- 
 disposed  child;  who,  notwithstanding  his 
 inability  to  explain  to  himself,  in  all  cases, 
 the  reasons  of  his  being  sometimes  exposed 
 to  pain  or  inconvenience,  feels  nevertheless 
 an  undoubting  and  a  reasonable  confidence 
 that  his  parents  love  him  and  seek  his 
 benefit,  and  understand  better  than  he 
 does,  how  to  promote  it. 
 
 Such  a  child  will  be  ready  to  say,  "  My 
 father  bids  me  do  so  and  so ;  and  his  will 
 is  reason  enough  for  me.  doubtless  there 
 are  good  reasons,  though  unknown  to  me, 
 for  his  command ;  and  these  he  may  per- 
 haps explain  to  me  hereafter;  but  in  the 
 mean  time  it  is  my  duty  to  obey." 
 
 And  such  a  child  would  never  presume 
 to  pronounce  that  his  father  had  no  reason 
 at  all  for  his  command,  except  that  such 
 was  his  pleasure.  This  would  evidently 
 be  to  attribute  to  him  caprice.  On  the 
 contrary,  he  doubts  not  that  there  is  good 
 reason  both  for  giving  the  command,  and 
 for  withholding  the  explanation  of  it.  That 
 such  is  the  father's  will,  would  be  no  good 
 reason,  to  the  father,  for  giving  the  com- 
 mand ;  though  it  is  a  sufficient  reason,  to 
 the  child,  for  obeying  it.  For  the  child, 
 therefore,  to  insist  on  it  that  his  father 
 had  no  reason  except  his  will,  for  what  he 
 does,  because  he  has  not  thought  fit  to 
 make  the  reason  known,  would  be  not 
 dutiful  humility,  but  the  height  of  rash 
 presumption.  So  also  an  earthly  king, 
 who  is  not  responsible  to  any  of  his  sub- 
 jects for  the  commands  he  gives,  may 
 sometimes  see  fit  to  issue  commands  with- 
 out stating  his  reasons;  and  it  would  be 
 insolent  rashness  for  any  one  to  conclude 
 that  he  had  no  reasons  at  all,  but  acted 
 from  mere  tyrannical  caprice.  And  we 
 also,  if  we  would  imitate  the  example  of 
 dutiful  children,  or  loyal  subjects,  are 
 bound  to  trust  that  our  Heavenly  Father 
 and  King,  has  good  reasons,  even  when 
 not  revealed  to  us,  for  all  His  dealings 
 with  mankind.  Archbishop  Whately. 
 
 GOD— Recognition  of. 
 
 In  all  companies  and  in  all  places  re- 
 member the  presence  of  God;  walk  con- 
 tinually as  if  under  the  view  of  His  all- 
 seeing  and  observing  eye;  often  considering 
 that  God  is  every  where  present,  and  then 
 you  will  study  to  be  every  where  holy. 
 
 God  is  every  where  present  by  His 
 power.  He  rolls  the  orbs  of  heaven  with 
 His  hand.  He  fixes  the  earth  with  His  foot, 
 He  guides  all  the  creatures  with  his  eye, 
 and  refreshes  them  with  His  influence  j 
 and  makes  the  powers  of  hell  to  shake  with 
 
GOD. 
 
 His  terrors.  There  is  not  one  liollowness 
 in  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  but  He  shows 
 Himself  to  be  Lord  of  it,  by  sustaining 
 there  the  creatures  that  come  to  dwell  in 
 it ;  and  in  the  wilderness,  the  bittern  and 
 the  stork,  the  lion  and  the  elephant,  live 
 upon  His  provisions,  and  feel  the  force  of 
 His  almightiness. 
 
 Let  everything  you  see  represent  to 
 your  spirit  the  presence,  the  excellency,  and 
 the  power  of  God.  In  the  face  of  the  sun 
 you  may  see  God's  beauty ;  in  the  fire  you 
 may  feel  His  heat  warming;  in  the  water 
 His  gentleness  to  refi-esh  you;  it  is  the 
 dew  of  heaven  that  makes  your  field  give 
 you  bread;  in  all  things  it  is  the  bounty 
 of  God  that  ministers  to  your  necessities. 
 
 This  consideration  of  the  Divine  pre- 
 sence is  apt  to  produce  joy  and  rejoicing  in 
 God ;  we  delight  in  being  of  the  same 
 household  with  (jod;  He  is  with  us  in  our 
 natural  actions  to  preserve  us,  in  our  re- 
 creations to  restrain  us,  in  our  public 
 actions  to  applaud  or  reprove  us,  in  our 
 private  to  observe  us,  in  our  sleep  to  guard 
 ns,  in  our  watchings  to  relresh  us ;  and  if 
 we  walk  with  God  in  all  His  v/ays,  as  He 
 walks  with  us  in  all  ours,  we  shall  find 
 perpetual  reasons  to  enable  us  to  keep  that 
 rule  of  His,  "  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always." 
 B^.  Taylor. 
 
 GOD— Reflected. 
 
 The  beautiful  rays  coming  from  the  face 
 of  God,  and  shining  in  such  loveliness 
 around  us,  are  reflected  and  refracted  when 
 they  come  in  contact  with  the  human  heart. 
 Each  heart  is  apt  to  receive  only  such  as 
 please  it,  and  to  reject  the  others.  Hence 
 the  many-coloured  aspects,  some  of  them 
 hideous  in  the  extreme,  in  which  God  is 
 presented  to  different  nations  and  indi- 
 viduals. Hence  the  room  for  each  man 
 fashioning  a  god  after  his  own  heart.  An 
 evil  conscience,  reflecting  only  the  red  rays, 
 calls  up  a  god  who  delights  in  blood.  The 
 man  of  fine  sentiment,  reflecting  only  the 
 softer  rays,  paints  from  the  hues  of  his 
 own  feelings  a  god  of  mere  sensibility, 
 tender  as  that  of  the  hero  of  a  modern 
 romance.  The  man  of  glowing  imagi- 
 nation will  array  in  gorgeous  but  delusive 
 colouring,  and  in  the  flowing  drapery  of 
 majesty  and  grandeur,  beneath  which,  how- 
 ever, there  is  little  or  no  reality.  The  ob- 
 server of  laws  will  represent  Him  as  the 
 enibodiment  of  order,  as  blank  and  as  black 
 as  the  sun  looks  when  we  have  gazed  upon 
 him  till  we  are  no  longer  sensible  of  his 
 brightness.  McCosh. 
 
 GOD— a  EefAge. 
 
 A  heathen  could  say,  when  a  bird  (scared 
 by  a  hawk)  flew  into  his  bosom  for  refuge, 
 "  I  will  not  kill  thee,  nor  betray  thee  to 
 thine  enemy,  seeing  thou  fliest  "to  me  for 
 
 sanctuary."  Much  less  will  God  either 
 slay  or  give  up  the  soul  that  takes  sanc- 
 tuary in  His  name.  Gurnall. 
 
 GOD— Reminders  of. 
 
 There's  nothing  bright  ahove,  below. 
 From   flowers  that   bloom   to  stars    that 
 
 glow. 
 But  in  its  light  my  soul  can  see 
 Some  feature  of  the  Deity.  Anon. 
 
 GOD— Repentance  of. 
 
 When  God  is  said  to  repent.  He  doth 
 not  change  His  will,  but  wills  a  change. 
 
 When  God  repents  of  ill, 
 He  wills  a  change.  He  changeth  not  His 
 will.  Venning. 
 
 GOD— no  Respecter  of  Persons. 
 
 With  God  there  is  no  free  man  but  His 
 servant,  though  in  the  galleys;  no  slave 
 but  the  sinner,  though  in  a  palace ;  none 
 noble  but  the  virtuous,  if  never  so  basely 
 descended;  none  rich  but  he  that  pos- 
 sesseth  God,  even  in  rags ;  none  wise  but 
 he  that  is  a  fool  to  himself  and  the  world ; 
 none  happy  but  he  whom  the  woi-ld  pities. 
 Let  me  be  free,  noble,  rich,  wise,  hap]iy  to 
 God.  Bp.  Mall. 
 
 GOD— Riches  of. 
 
 Suppose  you  should  go  and  visit  a  man 
 who  was  so  rich,  that  he  had  his  trees 
 covered  with  silk  of  the  most  beautiful 
 colours,  and  even  his  most  common  things 
 covered  with  gold  and  silver,  and  adorned 
 by  the  most  curious  art.  Would  you  not 
 think  him  a  rich  man  ?  And  if  he  were 
 known  to  be  a  good  man,  and  true  to  his 
 word,  and  he  should  tell  you  that  he  would 
 be  your  friend,  and  always  take  care  of 
 you,  would  you  have  any  fear  that  he 
 would  not  do  it  ? 
 
 God  is  richer  than  all  this.  He  is  so 
 rich  that  He  can  put  more  of  what  is 
 beautiful  upon  a  single  lily  or  tulip,  than 
 the  great  king  Solomon  could  put  on  all 
 his  clothing.  The  hoarse,  homely  peacock 
 carries  more  that  is  beautiful  upon  his 
 tail,  than  the  richest  king  could  ever  show. 
 And  even  the  poor  butterfly,  which  is  to 
 live  but  a  few  hours,  has  a  more  glorious 
 dress,  than  the  proudest,  richest  man  that 
 ever  lived.  God  can  dress  this  poor  worm 
 up  so,  because  He  is  rich.  If  then.  He 
 can  take  such  care  of  the  lilies,  the  birds 
 and  insects,  and  make  them  more  beautiful 
 than  man  can  ever  be,  will  He  not  take 
 care  of  us,  if  we  obey  Him  ? 
 
 Suppose  you  had  a  rich  father — so  rich 
 that  he  had  a  hogshead  full  of  gold,  and  a 
 great  barn  full  of  silver;  do  you  think 
 that  if  you  were  to  be  a  good  child  he 
 would  ever  refuse  to  take  care  of  yon  ? 
 But  God  has  more  gold  and  silver  laid  up 
 
GOD. 
 
 385 
 
 in  the  ground,  which  men  have  not  yet 
 dng  up,  than  would  make  a  mountain — it 
 may  be,  thousands  of  mountains.  Can  He 
 not  take  care  of  you  ? 
 
 Suppose  your  father  had  more  oxen,  and 
 horses,  and  cattle,  than  you  could  count 
 over  in  a  day,  or  in  a  week — would  he  not 
 be  able  to  take  care  of  his  child,  and  give 
 him  everything  he  needs  ?  Yes.  But  God 
 has  "  cattle  upon  ten  thousand  hills,"  and 
 "  every  beast  of  the  forest "  is  His,  and  His 
 are  "  all  the  fowls  of  the  air."  Can  He 
 not  give  you  food  from  all  these  cattle,  and 
 clothe  you,  and  give  you  beds,  from  the 
 feathers  of  all  these  fowls  ?  Yes ;  He  is 
 able  to  do  it  all. 
 
 Suppose  your  father  was  so  rich  that  he 
 had  ten  thousand  men  to  work  for  him 
 every  day,  all  at  work,  and  all  paid  to  their 
 mind,  and  all  happy  in  working  for  him. 
 Would  you  have  any  fears  that  he  could 
 not  take  care  of  you,  and  do  you  good  ? 
 But  God  has  more  servants  than  these. 
 He  has  all  the  good  people  on  earth  in  His 
 employment,  and  all  the  angels  in  heaven. 
 He  pays  them  all.  And  if  you  need  any- 
 thing. He  can  send  one,  or  a  million,  of 
 these  His  servants  to  you,  to  help  you. 
 
 Br.  J.  Todd. 
 GOD— Righteousness  of. 
 
 Righteousness  or  justice  in  God,  is  an 
 eternal  and  constant  will  to  render  to  every 
 one  his  own  (Ps.  xi,  7).  To  God  Himself 
 that  which  is  His,  and  to  the  creature 
 what  belongs  to  it.  We  consider  this 
 righteousness  in  its  Words  and  in  its  Acts. 
 In  all  its  Words  are  found  veracity  and 
 constancy;  and  in  its  Promises,  fidelity 
 (2  Tim.  ii,  13;  Numb,  xxiii,  19;  Rom.  iii, 
 4;  1  Thess.  v,  2-i).  With  regard  to  its 
 Acts,  it  is  twofold.  Disposing  and  Remune- 
 rative. The  former  is  that  according  to 
 which  God  disposes  all  the  things  in  His 
 actions  through  His  wisdom,  according  to 
 the  rule  of  equity  which  has  either  been 
 prescribed  or  pointed  out  by  His  wisdom. 
 The  latter  (remunerative  righteousness)  is 
 that  by  which  God  renders  to  His  creature 
 that  which  belongs  to  it  according  to  his 
 work  through  an  agreement  into  which  He 
 has  entered  with  it  (Heb.  vi,  10,  17,  18; 
 Ps.  cxlv,  17;  2  Thess.  i,  6;  Rev.  ii,  23). 
 
 Arminius. 
 GOD— a  Eock. 
 
 What  are  the  reasons  for  which  our  God 
 is  compared  to  a  rock  ?  First,  then,  a  rock 
 is  stedfast :  its  stability,  as  contrasted  with 
 the  flowing  waters  of  the  sea,  or  the  shift- 
 ing sands  of  the  desert,  is  the  first  thing 
 that  strikes  us ;  and  with  regard  to  God, 
 
 "  Firm  as  a  rock  Thy  promise  stands ;" 
 "  With    Him   is   no  variableness,   neither 
 shadow  of  turning."     Next,  a  rock  is  often 
 chosen  as  the  site  of  a  stronghold,  from  the 
 
 security  it  gives.  Men  build  their  castles 
 upon  a  rock,  for  purposes  of  defence ;  the 
 wise  man  built  his  house  upon  the  rock 
 for  safety  in  the  storm ;  "  the  Lord  is  my 
 rock  and  my  fortress."  Again,  in  Palestine 
 we  find  that  the  rock  often  contained  a 
 cave  or  cleft,  used  as  a  hiding-place : 
 "  Enter  into  the  rock,  and  hide  thee  in  the 
 dust."  In  such  a  cleft  Moses  was  hidden  : 
 "  I  will  put  thee  in  a  clift  of  the  rock,  and 
 will  cover  thee  with  my  hand  while  I  pass 
 by  "  (Exod.  xxxiii,  22).  A  rock  became  also 
 a  shelter  in  another  sense :  "  the  shadow 
 of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land," — "lead  me 
 to  the  rock  that  is  higher  than  I."  And 
 the  rock  that  gave  security  was  also  a 
 source  of  refreshment :  for  "  He  opened 
 the  rock,  and  the  waters  gushed  out,"  so 
 that  "  they  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock 
 that  followed  them,  and  that  rock  was 
 Christ."  Cameron. 
 
 GOD— Seeing. 
 
 When  I  behold  all  the  requisites  in 
 organs,  where  music  is  in  perfection,  I 
 stay  not  on  the  iron,  lead,  wood,  the  pipes, 
 nor  on  the  bellows;  my  spirit  flieth  to 
 that  hidden  spirit  which  distributeth  itself 
 with  so  melodious  proportionable  divisions 
 throughout  the  whole  instrument.  So, 
 when  I  contemplate  the  world,  I  stick  not 
 on  the  body  of  the  sun,  the  stars,  the 
 elements,  the  stones,  the  metals,  the  plants, 
 nor  the  living  creatures ;  I  penetrate  into 
 that  secret  Spirit  which  insinuateth  itself 
 thereunto,  with  such  admirable  power,  such 
 ravishing  sweetness,  and  incomparable  har- 
 mony. iV.  Caussin. 
 
 GOD— a  Shield. 
 
 1.  A  shield  is  for  defence  and  safeguard 
 of  the  body  in  time  of  battle  :  God  is  the 
 defence  and  safeguard  of  His  people  in  the 
 conflicts  of  life. 
 
 2.  A  shield  is  not  only  to  defend  and 
 preserve  one  part  of  the  body,  but  every 
 part :  God  defends  the  souls  of  His  saints 
 in  their  entirety. 
 
 3.  A  shield  is  used  to  keep  that  part  of 
 the  body  that  is  struck  at  by  the  enemy ; 
 it  is  a  movable  piece  of  armour,  that  a 
 skilful  hand  can  turn  this  way  or  that  way, 
 to  take  the  blow  or  arrow,  according  as  he 
 sees  it  directed  against  him ;  so  God  by 
 His  truth,  spirit,  &c.,  protects  His  people. 
 
 Keach, 
 
 GOD— Silence  of. 
 
 It  sometimes  seems  as  if  God  cared  for 
 nothing.  The  wicked  are  at  ease.  The 
 good  are  vexed  incessantly.  The  world  is 
 full  of  misery  and  confusion.  The  darling 
 of  the  flock  is  always  made  the  sacrifice. 
 Some  child,  in  the  very  midst  of  its  glee, 
 becomes  suddenly  silent — as  a  music  box, 
 its  spring  giving  way,  stops  in  the  midst 
 
GOD. 
 
 of  its  strain,  and  never  plays  out  the 
 melody.  The  mother  staggers,  :md  wanders 
 through  day  and  night,  as  if  these  were 
 mingled  into  one,  and  that  shot  through 
 with  preternatural  influence  of  woe.  But 
 think  not  that  God's  silence  is  coldness  or 
 indifterence.  When  Christ  stood  by  the 
 dead,  the  silence  of  tears  interpreted  His 
 sympathy  more  wonderfully  than  even  that 
 voice  which  afterwards  called  back  the 
 footsteps  of  the  brother  from  the  grave, 
 and  planted  them  in  life  again.  God's 
 stillness  is  full  of  brooding.  Not  one  tear 
 shall  be  shed  by  you  that  does  not  hang 
 heavier  at  His  heart  than  any  world  upon 
 His  hs-ud.  M.  W^  Beecher. 
 
 GOD— Simplicity  of. 
 
 Simplicity  is  a  pre-eminent  mode  of  the 
 essence  of  God,  by  which  He  is  void  of  all 
 composition,  and  of  component  parts, 
 whether  they  belong  to  the  senses  or  the 
 understanding.  Arminius. 
 
 GOD— Sovereignty  of. 
 
 Sovereignty  consists  simply  in  doing 
 according  to  pleasure.  God's  sovereignty 
 consists  in  His  doing  just  as  He  pleases. 
 We  have  distinct  declarations  of  God's 
 sovereignty  in  Ps.  cxv,  3;  and  Rom.  ix, 
 15.  We  are  not  told,  so  far  as  these 
 passages  are  concerned,  what  the  character 
 of  God's  sovereignty  is.  We  must  refer  to 
 other  passages  to  know  whether  the  Divine 
 Sovereignty  is  good  or  bad,  righteous  or 
 tyrannical,  merciful  or  severe.  We  have 
 this  question  answered  in  Exod.  xxxiv,  6, 
 where  Jehovah  declares  His  own  character 
 as,  "  The  Lord  God  merciful  and  gracious, 
 long-sufl'ering,  and  abundant  in  goodness 
 and  truth."  This  being  the  character  of 
 God,  it  is  of  necessity  the  character  of  His 
 sovereignty.  T.  B..  Milner. 
 
 GOD— Spirituality  of. 
 
 God  is  a  Spirit,  as  man  is  a  spirit.  There 
 is  no  difterence  as  to  what  may  be  termed 
 the  popular  characters  of  spirit,  between 
 the  spirit  of  man,  and  God,  considered  as  a 
 Spirit;  for  God  made  man  in  His  own 
 image.  But  there  is  one  great  and  radical 
 difference.  Human  and  angelic  spirits  are 
 finite;  God,  whom  we  worship,  is  Infinite. 
 22.  Watson. 
 
 If  God  were  an  infinite  hody.  He  could 
 not  fill  heaven  and  earth,  but  with  the  ex- 
 clusion of  all  creatures.  Two  bodies  cannot 
 be  in  tlie  same  space;  they  may  be  near 
 one  another,  but  not  in  any  of  the  same 
 points  together.  A  body  bounded  He  hath 
 not,  for  tliat  would  destroy  His  immensity ; 
 He  could  not  then  fill  heaven  and  earth, 
 because  a  body  cannot  be  at  one  and  the 
 same  time  in  two  difi'erent  spaces  ;  but  God 
 doth  not  fill  heaven  at  one  time,  and  the 
 earth  at  another,  but  both  at  the  same  time. 
 
 Besides,  a  limited  body  cannot  be  said  to 
 fill  the  whole  earth,  but  one  particular 
 space  in  the  earth  at  a  time.  A  body  may 
 fill  the  earth  with  its  virtue,  as  the  sun, 
 but  not  with  its  substance.  Nothing  can 
 be  everywhere  with  a  corporeal  weight 
 and  mass ;  but  God,  being  infinite,  is  nob 
 tied  to  any  part  of  the  world,  but  penetrates 
 all,  and  equally  acts  by  His  infinite  power 
 in  all.  Charnock. 
 
 GOD— Strength  from. 
 
 A  master  gives  his  servant  work  to  do, 
 but  he  cannot  give  him  strength  to  work ; 
 but  God,  as  He  cuts  us  out  work,  so  He 
 gives  us  strength.  "  My  strength  shall  be 
 made  perfect  in  thy  weakness."  "Give 
 Thy  strength  unto  Thy  servant." 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 GOD— Testimonies  of. 
 
 God's  testimonies  were  David's  coun- 
 sellors better  than  ever  was  Polybius  to 
 Scipio,  Agrippa  to  Augustus,  Seneca  to 
 Nero,  Anaxagoras  to  Themistocles,  Plato 
 to  Dio,  Alexander  to  Aristotle,  or  Negidius 
 to  Cicero.  J.  Trapp. 
 
 GOD— Thirst  for. 
 
 As  the  lips  burning  with  thirst  drink  of 
 the  fresh  pure  water  flowing  from  the  rock  ; 
 so  should  the  soul  thirst  after,  and  drink 
 of,  the  flowing  crystal  streams,  which  pro- 
 ceed from  the  Infinite  Fountain  of  Life. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 GOD— Thoughts  of. 
 
 In  one  sense  we  are  everywhere  sur- 
 rounded with  God's  thoughts.  Outer  na- 
 ture is  a  majestic  volume  of  these.  His 
 sublime  thouglits  are  the  everlasting 
 mountains — His  lofty  thoughts  the  dis- 
 tant stars — His  terrible  thoughts  the 
 lightning  and  tempest,  the  earthquake  and 
 volcano — His  minute  thoughts  of  discrimi- 
 nating care  the  tiny  moss  and  lichen,  the 
 tender  grass,  the  lily  of  the  field,  and  pearly 
 dewdrop — His  loving  thoughts,  the  blue 
 sky,  the  quiet  lake,  the  sunny  glade,  the 
 budding  blossoms  and  beauteous  flowers — 
 His  joyful  thoughts,  the  singing  streams 
 and  sparkling  waves — His  unchanging 
 thoughts,  the  rock  in  mid-ocean,  on  which 
 the  waves  are  in  vain  spending  their  fury. 
 But  it  is  not  in  these  mute,  undefined,  often 
 mysterious  symbols,  that  sinners,  redeemed 
 by  the  blood  of  Christ,  can  discover  the 
 true  Divine  "  Cardiphonia," — the  breath- 
 ings and  utterances  of  the  verj'  heart  of  a 
 reconciled  Father.  "  He  hath  magnified 
 His  word  above  all  His  names"  (Ps. 
 cxxxviii,  2).  He  "  hath  in  these  last  days 
 spoken  unto  us  (given  expression  and  ut- 
 terance to  His  '  thoughts')  by  His  Son" 
 (Heb.  i,  2).  It  is  in  Christ  that  each 
 thought  of  God  becomes  "  precious," — a 
 ministering  angel  of  comfort  and  hope,  a 
 
GOD. 
 
 387 
 
 deep  pool  of  unfathomable  grace  and  love, 
 retiecting  the  image  and  the  peace  of  hea- 
 ven. He  is  the  true  ladder  of  Jacob,  upon 
 which  thoughts  upon  thoughts  of  unut- 
 terable tenderness  troop  down  from  the 
 upper  sanctuary.  Macduff. 
 
 GOD — Trust  in. 
 
 The  child  leans  on  its  parent's  breast, 
 Leaves  there  its  cares,  and  is  at  rest  j 
 The  bird  sits  singing  by  his  nest. 
 
 And  tells  aloud 
 His  trust  in  God,  and  is  blest 
 
 'Neath  every  cloud. 
 
 He  has  no  store,  he  sows  no  seed ; 
 Yet  sings  aloud,  and  doth  not  heed; 
 By  flowing  stream,  or  grassy  mead 
 
 He  sings  to  shame 
 Men  who  forget,  in  fear  of  need, 
 
 A  Father's  name. 
 
 The  heart  that  trusts  for  ever  sings, 
 And  feels  as  light  as  it  had  wings ; 
 A  well  of  peace  within  it  springs ; 
 
 Come  good  or  ill, 
 Whate'er  to  day,  to  morrow  brings, 
 
 It  is  His  wiU ! 
 
 Isaac  Williams. 
 
 GOD— Truth  of. 
 
 God  could  part  with  His  Son,  but  not 
 with  His  truth.  Had  the  former  been 
 withheld,  the  latter  would  have  been  sacri- 
 ficed. John  Bate. 
 
 GOD— Understanding  of. 
 
 The  understanding  of  God  is  a  faculty 
 of  His  life,  which  is  the  first  in  nature  as 
 well  as  in  order,  and  by  which  He  dis- 
 tinctly understands  all  things  and  every- 
 thing which  now  have,  will  have,  have  had, 
 can  have,  or  might  hypothetically  have,  any 
 kind  of  being ;  by  which  He  likewise  dis- 
 tinctly imderstands  the  order  which  aU 
 and  each  of  them  hold  among  themselves, 
 the  connections  and  the  various  relations 
 which  they  have  or  can  have.       Arminius. 
 
 GOD — Unchangeableness  of. 
 
 The  ocean  is  a  striking  emblem  of  this 
 attribute  of  God.  There  are  evident 
 changes  in  connection  with  man,  beasts, 
 creeping  things,  trees,  flowers,  hills,  val- 
 leys, rivers;  but  the  great  ocean  is  as  it 
 was  when  first  the  Almighty  poured  it 
 forth  from  His  boundless  hand.  Man 
 seems  to  have  the  power  to  change  the 
 appearance  and  relation  of  all  things  but 
 the  ocean.  Can  he  level  its  mountains  or 
 raise  its  valleys  ?  Can  he  alter  its  colours 
 or  remove  its  boundaries  ?  Can  he  bridge 
 its  bosom  and  steam  over  the  viaduct  ? 
 Though  he  has  been  sailing  over  it  these 
 hundreds  and  thousands  of  years,  east, 
 west,  north,  south ;  and  diving  into  its 
 depths,  and  taking  up  its  treasures ;  though 
 
 myriads  of  people  have  gone  into  it  as  a 
 grave,  and  untold  bulks  of  merchandise 
 have  been  swallowed  up  by  its  greedy 
 deeps  J  yet  where  is  the  mark  of  any 
 human  hand  ?  Can  a  single  imprint  of 
 human  power,  skill,  and  genius  be  dis- 
 cerned on  any  part  of  its  surface  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 GOD— Unity  of. 
 
 The  unity  of  God  is  the  basis  of  the 
 peace  of  God — meaning  by  the  unity  of 
 God  the  comprehensive  nianifoldness  of 
 God,  and  not  merely  the  singularity  in  the 
 number  of  God's  being.  When  the  Uni- 
 tarian speaks  of  God  as  one,  he  means 
 simply  singularity  of  number.  We  mean 
 that  He  is  of  manifold  comprehensiveness 
 — that  there  is  unity  between  His  various 
 powers.  Amongst  the  personalities  or 
 powers  of  His  being  there  is  no  discord, 
 but  perfect  harmony,  entire  union;  and 
 that,  brethren,  is  repose,  the  blessedness  of 
 infinite  rest,  that  belongs  to  the  unity  of 
 God.     "  I  and  my  Father  are  one." 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 How  many  Gods  are  there,  was  once 
 said  to  a  little  boy.  "  One."  How  do  you 
 know  there  is  only  one  ?  "  Because  there 
 is  no  room  for  more,  for  the  one  God  fills 
 heaven  and  earth."  Anon. 
 
 The  unity  of  the  essence  of  God  is  that 
 according  to  which  it  is  in  every  possible 
 way  so  at  one  in  itself,  as  to  be  altogether 
 indivisible  with  regard  to  number,  species, 
 genus,  parts,  modes,  &c.  (Deut.  iv,  35; 
 1  Cor.  viii,  4.)  Arminius. 
 
 GOD — Unsearchable. 
 
 Though  the  sun  is  the  source  and  foun- 
 tain of  light,  there  is  little  good  in  gazing 
 at  the  sun  except  to  get  blinded.  No  one 
 ever  saw  the  better  for  looking  the  sun 
 directly  in  the  face.  It  is  a  child's  trick ; 
 grown  up  people  know  better.  We  use 
 the  light  which  the  sun  gives,  to  see  by, 
 and  to  search  into  all  things — the  sun  ex- 
 cepted. Him  we  cannot  explore,  beyond 
 what  he  reveals  of  himself  in  the  light  and 
 heat  which  he  sheds  upon  us,  and  in  the 
 colours  by  which  he  is  reflected  from  the 
 earth.  There  is  no  searching  of  the  sun,  our 
 eyes  are  too  weak.  How  much  less  cau 
 we  search  the  sun's  Creator,  before  Whom 
 the  myriads  of  suns  are  but  as  so  many 
 cloud-bodies !  His  revelation  of  Himself, 
 in  His  works  and  in  His  word,  in  His  Son 
 and  in  our  souls,  is  more  than  enough  for 
 us.  Persons  who  dare  to  go,  as  they  say, 
 ki  a  directer  way  to  Himself,  are  like  chil- 
 dren looking  at  the  sun,  who  instead  of 
 getting  more  light  and  better  eyes,  get  less 
 lighi  and  an  infatuated  eye.     J.  Fulsford. 
 
GOD. 
 
 GOD— Unsearchable. 
 
 0  Thou  eternal  One !  whose  presence  hright 
 All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide ; 
 Unchanged    through   time's  all-devasting 
 flight. 
 Thou  only  God !  for  there  is  none  beside ; 
 Being  above  all  beings !  mighty  One 
 Whom  none  can  comprehend,  and  none 
 explore ; 
 Who  fiU'st  existence  with  Thyself  alone, 
 Embracing  all,  supporting,  ruling  o'er ; 
 Being  whom  we  call  God,  and  know  no 
 more! 
 In  its  sublime  research,  philosophy 
 
 May  measure  out  the  ocean  deep ;  may 
 count 
 The  sands,  or  the  sun's  rays:    but,  God, 
 for  Thee 
 There  is  no  weight  nor  measure.     None 
 can  mount 
 Up  to  Thy  mysteries;   reason's  brightest 
 spark. 
 Though  kindled  by  Thy  light,  in  vain 
 would  try 
 To  trace  Thy  counsels,  infinite  and  dark ; 
 And  thought  is  lost  ere  thought  can  soar 
 
 so  high. 
 Even  like  past  moments  in  eternity. 
 
 Anon. 
 GOD— Voice  of. 
 
 God  hath  a  voice  that  ever  is  heard 
 In  the  peal  of  the  thunder,  the  chirp  of  the 
 
 bird ; 
 It  comes    in   the  torrent,  all   rapid  and 
 
 sti'ong, 
 In  the  streamlet's  soft  gush  as  it  ripples 
 
 along ; 
 It  breathes  in  the  zephyr,  just  kissing  the 
 
 bloom ; 
 It  lives  in  the  rush  of  the  sweeping  simoon ; 
 Let  the  hurricane  whistle  or  warblers  re- 
 joice. 
 What  do  they  tell  thee  but  God  hath  a 
 
 voice  ? 
 God  hath  a  presence,  and  that  ye  may  see 
 In  the  fold  of  the  flower,  the  leaf  of  the 
 
 tree; 
 In  the  sun  of  the  noon-day,  the  star  of  the 
 
 night ; 
 In  the  storm-cloud  of  darkness,  the  rain- 
 bow of  light ; 
 In  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  the  furrows  of 
 
 land; 
 In  the  mountains  of  granite,  the  atom  of 
 
 sand; 
 Turn  where  ye  may,  from  the  sky  to  the  sod. 
 Where  can  ye  gaze  that  ye  see  not  a  God  ? 
 Eliza  Cook. 
 GOD— "Watchfalness  of. 
 
 As  there  is  no  babe  cradled  and  rocked 
 that  has  not  its  mother,  in  the  ordinary 
 course  of  life,  to  overhang  it  by  night  and 
 by  day,  to  kiss  it  as  it  sleeps,  and  to  cover 
 it  with  smiles  and  caresses  when  it  wakes ; 
 
 so  every  creature  that  is  born  into  life  has 
 a  God  whose  ever-watchful  soul  broods 
 tenderly  over  it  by  day  and  by  night,  and 
 who  iuterspheres  it  in  His  own  radiant 
 thought  and  feeling.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 GOD— Ways  of. 
 
 God  often  lets  His  people  reach  the 
 shore  as  on  the  planks  of  a  shipwrecked 
 vessel.  He  deprives  us  of  the  cisterns,  iu 
 order  to  make  us  drink  out  of  the  fountains 
 of  waters.  He  frequently  takes  away  our 
 supports,  not  that  we  may  fall  to  the 
 ground,  but  that  He  may  Himself  become 
 our  rod  and  our  staft'.  The  eraban-assments 
 of  His  people  are  only  the  festive  scaifold- 
 ings  on  which  His  might.  His  faithfulness, 
 and  His  mercy  celebrate  their  triumphs. 
 
 Dr.  F.  W.  Krummacher. 
 
 Take  a  straight  stick  and  put  it  into  the 
 water,  and  it  will  seem  crooked.  Why  ? 
 Because  we  look  upon  it  through  two 
 mediums,  air,  and  water:  there  lies  the 
 deceptio  visus ;  thence  it  is  that  we  cannot 
 discern  aright.  Thus  the  proceedings  of 
 God  in  His  justice,  which  in  themselves  are 
 straight,  without  the  least  obliquity,  seem 
 unto  us  crooked ;  that  wicked  men  should 
 prosper,  and  good  men  be  afllicted ;  that 
 the  Israelites  should  make  the  bricks  and 
 the  Egyptians  dwell  in  the  houses;  that 
 servants  should  ride  on  horseback  and 
 princes  go  on  foot ;  these  are  things  that 
 make  the  best  Christians  stagger  in  their 
 judgments.  And  why  ?  but  because  they 
 look  upon  God's  proceedings  through  a 
 double  medium,  of  flesh  and  spirit ;  that  so 
 all  things  seem  to  go  cross  though,  indeed, 
 they  are  right  enough.  And  hence  it  is 
 that  God's  proceedings  in  His  justice  are 
 not  so  well  discerned, — the  eyes  of  man 
 alone  being  not  competent  judges  thereof. 
 Anon. 
 
 GOD— Wisdom  of. 
 
 The  builder  of  an  organ,  it  has  been 
 said,  must  be  a  wise  man;  and  the  non- 
 mechanical  part  of  the  world  will  willingly 
 concede  the  point.  We  wonder  at  a  skill 
 and  forethought  which  can  create  from 
 passive  wood  and  metal,  an  instrument  so 
 elaborately  planned,  so  subtly  tuned  to 
 harmony.  It  is  a  grand  example  of  man's 
 dominion  over  matter.  So  with  any  other 
 mechanical  triumph ;  we  not  only  admire, 
 but  on  man's  behalf  we  are  proud  of,  the 
 chronometer,  the  steam-engine,  the  thou- 
 sand contrivances  for  abridging  labour 
 with  which  our  manufacturing  districts 
 abound.  But  suppose  there  were  a  man 
 who  could  construct  one  or  all  of  these 
 under  quite  different  conditions ;  who,  with- 
 out altering  by  his  own  exertion  the  opera- 
 tion of  one  of  the  natural  laws,  could  bid  a 
 steam-engine  arise,  or  a  watch  grow  into 
 
GOD. 
 
 .389 
 
 shape ;  who,  while  he  called  into  existence 
 wheel,  or  lever,  or  pipe,  and  fitted  them 
 into  orderly  connection  to  achieve  his  ends, 
 could  yet  show  us  that  the  natural  forces, 
 the  properties  involved  in  the  things  them- 
 selves, accomplished  all ;  and  could  demon- 
 strate to  us  for  each  useful  or  beautiful 
 result  a  chain  of  causation,  reaching  to  the 
 heart  of  all  things;  were  not  that  more 
 wonderful — infinitely  more?  [All  this 
 wisdom  and  power  belong  to  God.] 
 
 J.  Sinton. 
 
 He  who  exhibited  such  matchless  skill 
 m  the  organisation  of  material  bodies,  and 
 such  exquisite  taste  in  their  formation,  has 
 superadded  that  etherial  beauty  which  en- 
 hances their  permanent  qualities,  and  pre- 
 sents them  to  us  in  the  ever-varying 
 character  of  the  spectrum.  Without  this 
 the  foliage  of  vegetable  life  might  have 
 filled  the  eye  and  fostered  the  fruit  which 
 it  veils,  but  the  youthful  green  of  its 
 spring  would  have  been  blended  with  the 
 dying  yellow  of  its  autumn.  If  the  ob- 
 jects of  the  material  world  had  been  illu- 
 minated with  wliite  light,  all  the  particles 
 of  which  possess  the  same  degree  of  fran- 
 gibility,  and  were  equally  acted  upon  by 
 the  bodies  on  which  they  fall,  all  nature 
 would  shine  with  a  leaden  hue,  and  all  the 
 combinations  of  external  objects,  all  the 
 features  of  the  human  countenance  would 
 have  exhibited  no  other  variety  than  that 
 which  they  possess  in  a  pencil-sketch,  or  a 
 China-ink  drawing.  The  rainbow  itself 
 would  have  dwindled  into  a  narrow  arch 
 of  white  light,  the  stars  would  have  shone 
 through  a  grey  sky,  and  the  mantle  of  a 
 wintry  twilight  would  have  replaced  the 
 golden  vesture  of  the  rising  sun. 
 
 Sir  David  Brewster. 
 
 Actinism  is  a  term  signifying  ray-potoer, 
 which  has  been  adopted  for  the  purpose  of 
 expressing  the  chemical  action  of  the  sun- 
 beam. According  to  the  generally  re- 
 ceived views,  the  solar  ray  is  regarded  as 
 exhibiting  three  forces :  light,  or  luminous 
 power;  heat,  or  calorific  power;  and  ac- 
 tinism, or  chemical  power :  but  whether 
 these  be  regarded  as  distinct  forces,  or 
 only  as  modified  forms  of  one,  the  three 
 phenomena  are  essentially  dissimilar; 
 hence  the  necessity  of  the  term  actinism, 
 to  distinguish  the  chemical  (photographic) 
 phenomena  from  heat  and  light. 
 
 Robert  Hunt. 
 
 There  are  in  the  sunbeam  three  differ- 
 ent principles — the  chemical,  the  lumini- 
 ferous,  and  caloric;  and  each  of  these  has 
 a  special  function  to  discharge  in  relation 
 to  the  plants  of  the  earth.  The  chemical 
 principle  has  a  powerful  influence  in  ger- 
 minating the  plant;   the  luminous  rays 
 
 assist  it  in  secreting  from  the  atmosphere 
 the  carbon  which  it  requires  in  order  to 
 its  growth ;  while  the  heat  rays  are  re- 
 quired to  nurture  the  seed,  and  form  the 
 reproductive  elements.  Now  it  is  a  re- 
 markable circumstance,  that,  according  to 
 Hunt,  the  first  of  these  is  most  powerful, 
 relatively  to  the  others  in  spring,  that  it 
 decreases  in  summer,  while  the  second  be- 
 comes more  powerful ;  and  that  in  autumn 
 both  are  lessened,  while  the  third  increases 
 in  force — that  is,  each  principle  becomes 
 potent  at  the  very  time  when  it  is  most 
 required.  McCosh.. 
 
 Respiration  is  breathing.  All  animals 
 and  vegetables  breathe.  Animals  breathe 
 by  lungs,  gills,  or  trachea.  Vegetables 
 breathe  by  leaves.  The  object  of  respira- 
 tion, in  animals,  is  to  clear  the  system  of 
 innumerable  small  particles  of  waste 
 carbon.  During  its  circulation,  tiie  blood, 
 getting  charged  with  dark  pa^-ticles  of 
 carbon,  is  rendered  unfit  for  nourishing 
 the  body.  The  heart  sends  this  impure 
 blood  to  the  lungs.  The  oxygen  of  the 
 fresh  air,  drawn  into  the  lungs,  unites 
 with  the  dark  particles  of  carbon,  and 
 brings  them  out;  and  the  blood,  thus 
 purified,  changes  its  colour  from  a  dark 
 blue  to  a  bright  red.  Soot,  charcoal,  coke, 
 and  the  blacklead  used  in  pencils,  are 
 specimens  of  carbon.  Oxygen,  uniting 
 with  carbon,  effects  two  important  results ; 
 the  production  of  heat,  and  the  formation 
 of  a  gas  called  carbonic  acid.  The  heat 
 keeps  the  body  warm,  but  the  gas,  being 
 injurious  to  animal  life,  is  breathed  out. 
 All  animals  are  constantly  sending  into 
 the  air  this  carbonic-acid  gas.  But  mark 
 what  a  beautiful  arrangement.  This  gas, 
 so  hurtful  to  animals,  is  life-giving  food 
 for  vegetables.  Plants,  by  means  of  their 
 leaves,  take  in  carbonic  acid,  get  out  of  it 
 the  solid  particles  of  carbon,  and  send  the 
 oxygen  back  into  the  air.  How  wonder- 
 fully do  those  waste  particles  of  carbon, 
 which  are  an  obstruction  in  the  body,  get 
 transferred  first  into  the  air,  and  from  the 
 air  into  plants,  and  thus  form  nearly  all 
 the  solid  wood  of  our  noble  forest-trees ! 
 "  All  Thy  woeks  shall  peaise  Thee^ 
 0  LoED."  Anon. 
 
 The  amount  of  common  salt  in  all  the 
 oceans  is  estimated  by  Schafhautl  at 
 3,051,342  cubic  geographical  miles;  or 
 about  five  times  more  than  the  mass  of  the 
 Alps,  and  only  one  third  less  than  that  of 
 the  Himayala.  The  sulphate  of  soda 
 equals  633,644*36  cubic  miles,  or  is  equal 
 to  the  mass  of  the  Alps.  The  chloride  of 
 magnesium,  441,811'80  cubic  miles;  the 
 lime  salts  109,339-44  cubic  miles.  He 
 supposes  the  mean  depth  to  be  about  300 
 metres,  as  estimated  by  Humboldt.     Ad- 
 
390 
 
 GOD. 
 
 mitting  with  Laplace  that  the  mean  depth 
 is  from  four  to  five  miles,  which  is  more 
 probable,  the  mass  of  marine  salt  will  be 
 more  than  double  the  mass  of  the  Hima- 
 laya.    Silliman. 
 
 In  the  above  we  see  the  wisdom  of  God 
 in  providing  such  a  purifying  and  pre- 
 serving element  in  nature,  and  the  good- 
 ness of  God  in  providing  such  an  article  as 
 salt  for  the  healthful  use  of  His  creatures. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 GOD— Wisdom  of. 
 
 God  has  not  only  created  all  things  beau- 
 tiful and  wonderful  in  themselves  ;  He  has 
 fitted  them  all  to  each  other;  He  has 
 made  them  all  by  weight  and  measure; 
 He  has  formed  them,  as  it  were,  with  a 
 balance  in  His  hand,  in  such  a  way  that  if 
 even  one  of  them  had  been  but  a  little 
 greater  or  a  little  less  in  proportion  to  the 
 others,  this  beautiful  world  would  soon 
 have  fallen  into  ruins,  and  no  living  thing 
 could  have  existed  on  it. 
 
 Do  you  wish  examples  of  this  ?  They 
 are  innumei-able — the  only  difficulty  is  to 
 choose  which  to  tell  you.  Let  us  take  the 
 air  as  the  first  example.  God  created  the 
 atmosphere  on  the  second  day.  It  has 
 been  reckoned  that  it  surrounds  the  world 
 to  the  height  of  about  fifty  miles  above  our 
 heads.  It  might  seem  to  you  a  very 
 trifling  matter  if  it  were  a  few  miles  more 
 or  less  in  height ;  and  yet  this  would  make 
 a  great  difference  to  us.  If  it  were  a  few 
 miles  less  in  height — as,  for  instance,  at 
 the  top  of  Mont  Blanc — the  barometer 
 would  stand  at  sixteen  inches,  and  men 
 and  animals  would  soon  be  suffocated.  If, 
 on  the  contrary,  it  were  a  few  miles  more 
 in  height,  the  barometer  would  stand  at 
 more  than  forty-seven  inches ;  it  would  be 
 insupportably  hot  wherever  the  rays  of  the 
 sun  could  reach,  and  your  lungs  could  not 
 bear  it  long.  You  may  judge  of  it  by  the 
 Dead  Sea,  where  the  atmosphere  is  only 
 a  quarter  of  a  mile  higher,  and  where  the 
 barometer  stands  at  twenty-nine  and  three- 
 quarters,  but  where  the  heat  is  excessive, 
 and  the  air  very  irritating  to  the  lungs,  as 
 we  are  told  in  the  account  of  Lieutenant 
 Lynch's  expedition.  And  if  the  atmosphere 
 were  higher  still,  the  winds  would  be 
 irresistible — our  houses  and  our  trees 
 would  be  thrown  down,  we  should  take 
 inflammation  in  the  lungs,  and  the  nature 
 of  all  things  around  us  would  be  entirely 
 changed. 
 
 Take  another  example.  On  the  third 
 day  God  formed  the  seas  and  the  dry  land. 
 If  the  dry  land  were  a  little  harder  than 
 it  is,  we  could  not  cultivate  it — we  could 
 neither  plough  nor  dig.  The  roots  of  the 
 plants  could  not  pierce  the  hard  soil,  and 
 they  would  perish.    If,  on  the  contrary, 
 
 the  earth  were  softer  than  it  is,  we  should 
 sink  in  the  soil,  as  we  do  in  a  ploughed 
 field  after  rain  ;  and  neither  houses,  trees, 
 nor  plants  could  be  kept  firm  in  the  ground. 
 If  the  water  of  the  sea  were  heavier,  all 
 the  fishes  would  be  borne  up  to  the  surface, 
 and  would  be  unable  to  swim  in  it ;  and 
 they  would  die  as  they  do  in  the  Dead 
 Sea,  whose  water  is  only  a  quarter  heavier 
 than  distilled  water.  And  if  the  water  of 
 the  sea  were  lighter,  the  fish  would  be  too 
 heavy  to  swim,  and  would  sink  down  and 
 die  at  the  bottom.  If  the  water  of  the 
 sea  and  of  the  lakes,  which  always  contracts 
 and  becomes  heavier  as  it  becomes  colder, 
 did  not  cease  to  obey  this  law  at  about  the 
 fourth  degree  above  freezing  point,  the 
 bottom  of  most  of  the  seas  and  of  all  the 
 lakes  would  be  a  mass  of  ice  for  the  greater 
 part  of  the  year;  whilst,  on  the  other 
 hand,  by  this  admirable  arrangement,  their 
 depths  never  freeze. 
 
 You  may  think,  perhaps,  that  it  would 
 be  a  matter  of  indifference  to  us  whether 
 our  globe  were  a  little  larger  or  a  little 
 smaller  than  it  is,  since  for  so  many  years 
 men  lived  upon  it  in  total  ignorance  of  its 
 size.  But  there  is  a  necessary  proportion 
 between  the  size  and  weight  of  the  earth 
 and  the  strength  which  God  has  given  to 
 our  limbs  and  muscles.  If,  for  example, 
 we  could  be  conveyed  to  the  moon,  and  if 
 it  were  like  the  earth  in  all  respects  except 
 its  size,  we  should  there  weigh  five  times 
 less  than  we  do  upon  earth.  We  might 
 bound  up  like  grasshoppers  to  a  great 
 height  in  the  air,  but  we  should  be  so 
 unsteady  on  our  limbs  that  the  hand  of  a 
 child  could  throw  us  over.  And  if  our 
 earth,  on  the  contrary,  were  as  large  as  the 
 planet  Jupiter,  all  other  things  remaining 
 the  same,  each  of  us  should  feel  as  if  we 
 were  forced  to  carry  the  weight  of  eleven 
 people  as  heavy  as  ourselves.  The  weiglit 
 of  a  man  of  ten  stone  would  be  110  stone, 
 and  none  of  us  could  walk  or  stand  up- 
 right— scarcely  even  move. 
 
 Ah,  let  us  repeat  what  we  said  before, — 
 "The  work  of  the  Lord  is  perfect.  It  is 
 always  good — very  good." 
 
 Frofessor  L.  Gatissen. 
 
 GOD— in  His  Works. 
 
 While  all  things  are  of  God,  by  God,  and 
 to  God,  and  God  is  in  all  things,  God  is  not 
 all  things  nor  are  all  things  God.  This  is 
 pantheism,  and  I  wish  to  guard  against 
 this  blunder  of  human  philosophy.  God  is 
 in  His  works  as  an  author  is  in  his  book ; 
 as  a  builder  is  in  his  building ;  as  a  me- 
 chanic is  in  his  mechanism,  with  this  differ- 
 ence, God  is  the  creator  of  the  materials  as 
 well  as  the  organizer  and  constructor  of 
 them  in  their  multitudinous  forms  and  re- 
 lations. But  whoever  would  affirm  that 
 the  book  was  the  author,  or  the  author  the 
 
GOD  IN  CHRIST— GODLINESS. 
 
 391 
 
 book  ? — that  the  building  was  the  builder, 
 or  the  builder  the  building? — that  the 
 mec^hanisni  was  the  mechanic,  or  the  me- 
 chanic  the  mechanism  ?  Because  God  is 
 said  to  be  in  nature,  it  does  not  therefore 
 follow  that  God  is  nature,  or  nature  God. 
 The  Creator  must  have  existed  before  His 
 creation,  as  an  author  must  have  existed 
 before  his  book,  the  builder  before  his 
 building,  and  the  mechanic  before  his 
 mechanism.  In  the  completion  of  His 
 works,  God  was  no  more  absorbed  in 
 and  confounded  with  them,  than  at  the 
 completion  of  any  work  of  man  the  author 
 or  workman  thereof  is  absorbed  in  and 
 confounded  with  it,  so  that  an  observer 
 should  regard  them  as  inscpa-rable  and  un- 
 distiuguishable.  No :  God  maintains  an 
 existence  distinct  from  nature,  though  in 
 nature,  as  its  Conserver;  and  were  all 
 material  things  annihilated.  He  would  still 
 have  a  being,  as  a  man  may,  though  all 
 his  works  may  be  utterly  destroyed. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 The  painter's  soul  is  no  doubt  thrown 
 into  his  painting,  and  the  sculptor's  and 
 architect's  into  their  statues  and  buildings  ; 
 but  their  souls  meanwhile  exist  apart,  and 
 are  capable  of  other  acts  besides  these.  In 
 a  sense,  as  true  as  it  is  grand,  the  soul  of 
 the  Creator  is  streaming  through  the  order 
 and  life  of  creation;  but  meanwhile  He 
 exists  independent  of  and  far  above  them. 
 McCosh. 
 
 GOD  IN  CHRIST— Adaptation  of. 
 
 In  His  incarnate  Son,  the  Lord  .Tesus 
 Christ,  God  presents  Himself  to  me  in  a 
 form  which  meets  my  wants.  The  Infinite 
 is  brought  within  the  limits  of  my  narrow 
 understanding ;  the  Invisible  is  revealed 
 to  my  sight ;  I  can  touch  Him,  hear  Him, 
 see  Him,  speak  to  Him.  In  the  hand  He 
 holds  out  to  save  me,  I  have  what  my  own 
 can  grasp.  In  that  eye  bent  on  me, 
 whether  bedewed  with  tears,  or  beaming 
 with  affection,  I  see  Divine  love  in  a  form 
 I  feel,  and  can  understand.  God  addresses 
 me  in  human  tones;  God  stands  before 
 me  in  the  fashion  of  a  man  ;  and,  paradox 
 as  it  appears,  when  I  fall  at  His  feet  to 
 say  with  Thomas,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God," 
 I  am  an  image-worshipper,  yet  no  idolater ; 
 for  the  Being  before  whom  I  bend  is  not  a 
 mere  man,  nor  a  graven  image,  nor  a  dead 
 thing,  but  the  living,  loving,  eternal,  "ex- 
 press image  "  of  the  "  Invisible  God." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 GODLINESS— Form  of. 
 
 The  primal  truth  that  God  is,  the  self- 
 existent,  independent,  and  all  perfect  One, 
 — is  unhesitatingly  assented  to;  but  the 
 practical  testimony  to  that  truth,  which  is 
 given  iu  enduring  as  seeing  Him  who  is 
 
 invisible,  is  withheld.  The  proofs  of  the 
 being  and  character  of  God,  drawn  from 
 the  phenomena  of  mind  and  matter,  con- 
 vince the  understanding ;  but,  amid  all 
 the  light  that  beams  from  these  phenomena, 
 the  heart  is  alienated  and  darkened.  That 
 God  is  really  a  Person — not  a  merely  in- 
 finite substance— a  Person  related  to  us  as 
 Father  and  Lord,  Saviour  and  Judge,  is 
 not  questioned  ;  but  there  is  no  devout  re- 
 cognition of  Him,  as  being  in  these  rela- 
 tions, the  glorious  and  gracious  One  with 
 whom  we  have  to  do.  The  no  less  well- 
 attested  truth  that  God  is  ever  present 
 with  and  exercises  a  minute  inspection  and 
 control  over  His  creatures  has  a  place 
 willingly  assigned  to  it  among  the  things 
 believed;  but  there  is  an  utter  absence  of 
 the  manifested  power  of  that  truth  in  (as 
 Scripture  significantly  expresses  it)  walking 
 with  God.  The  Bible  doctrines  of  re- 
 demption, including  and  pre-supposing  as 
 they  do,  the  guilt  and  depravity  of  man, 
 the  atonement  of  Christ  and  the  regene- 
 rating influences  of  the  Spirit,  are  essential 
 parts  of  the  creed ;  but  that  creed  is  like 
 the  dry  lifeless  skeleton,  the  body  without 
 the  spirit.  The  man  never  thinks  of 
 questioning  the  dark  doctrine  of  sin,  but 
 he  is  not  penitent  and  humble  under  the 
 conviction  of  his  own  sinful  character.  He 
 musters  up  no  argument  against  the  work 
 that  expiates  and  the  influences  that 
 sanctify,  he  no  more  doubts  that  they  are 
 truths  in-  the  Bible,  that  he  doubts  that 
 the  sun  is  in  the  heavens ;  but  he  is  not 
 found  standing  on  that  work,  or  living 
 under  the  power  of  those  influences,  any 
 more  than  if  their  existence  and  efficacy 
 were  restricted  to  some  distant  world.  He 
 would  no  more  think  of  denying  that  man 
 is  responsible  for  his  dispositions,  opinions, 
 and  conduct,  than  of  denying  that  he  thinks, 
 feels,  and  acts.  Words  implying  morid 
 agency,  and  accountability  are  ever  flowing 
 over  his  lips,  and  yet  his  habitual  senti- 
 ments and  conduct  are  such  as  could  only 
 be  formed  under  an  habitual  forgetfulness 
 of  Him  whose  eyes  behold  and  whose  eye- 
 lids try  the  children  of  men.  Tliere  is  no 
 infidelity  in  theory,  but  there  is  abundance 
 of  it  in  practice.  In  so  far  as  the  mere 
 letter  of  a  creed  is  concerned,  all  may  be 
 evangelical  and  correct ;  but  the  inner  and 
 outer  man  are  as  little  influenced  by  it  as 
 by  the  abrogated  notions  of  the  Ptolemaic 
 system.  There  is  religion,  but  it  is  merely 
 professional  and  verbal.  "  The  sign  is 
 taken  for  the  thing,  the  counter  for  the 
 money."  The  structure  is  complete  as  re- 
 gards shape,  size,  and  bones;  but  the  flesh 
 and  blood,  the  sparkling  eye,  and  the  agile 
 limbs,  are  wanting.  This  is  what  the 
 Scripture  means  when  it  speaks  of  men 
 having  a  form  of  godliness,  but  denying 
 the  power  thereof.  1.  Fear  so  a. 
 
392 
 
 GODLINESS— GODLY  SOREOW  AND  REPENTANCE. 
 
 GODLINESS— Gain  of. 
 
 The  greatest  gain  in  the  world  is  godli- 
 ness ;  it  hath  the  promise  of  this  life  and 
 of  that  which  is  to  come.  Whatsoever 
 drops  out  of  any  promise  of  the  Gospel, 
 falls  into  the  lap  of  a  godly  man  ;  the 
 promises  are  his,  and  therefore  the  good  of 
 
 the    promise    is   his When    the 
 
 apostle  had  rebuked  a  sort  of  men  that 
 made  godliness  only  a  stalking-horse  to 
 get  gain,  he  presently  adds,  but  godliness 
 is  great  gain,  if  a  man  be  content  with 
 what  he  hath.  Godliness  itself  is  great 
 gain,  if  we  have  no  more,  but  godliness 
 brings  in  gain,  abundance  of  gain,  besides 
 itself.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
 and  the  righteousness  thereof,  and  all  these 
 things  shall  be  added"  (or  cast  in  as  an 
 advantage)  "  to  you"  (Matt,  vi,  35). 
 
 Caryl. 
 
 St.  Paul's  affirmation  in  regard  to  god- 
 liness is  what  cannot  be  made  in  regard  to 
 any  other  one  thing  in  the  whole  world ; 
 "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto  all  things." 
 What  one  thing  in  science,  in  education, 
 in  trade,  in  pleasure.  &c.,  yields  a  profit 
 of  universal  application  ?  He  who  traf- 
 fics in  godliness  derives  a  sure  and  con- 
 stant interest  which  tells  upon  name,  cha- 
 racter, relations,  business,  prospects  ;  in  one 
 word,  which  yields  him  gain  for  this  world 
 and  for  that  which  is  to  come.  John  Bate. 
 
 What  is  gain  ?  The  worldly  man  says 
 money,  the  word  of  God  says  godliness. 
 What  can  money  do  ?  Can  it  cure  an  aching 
 head  ?  Can  it  ease  an  aching  heart  ?  Can  it 
 scare  away  disease  ?  Can  it  restore  health 
 to  the  sickly  frame,  or  hope  to  the  hope- 
 less heart  ?  Ah  no  !  It  may  purchase  a 
 softer  pillow  to  nurse  the  pain.  It  may 
 secure  a  more  experienced  physician  to 
 battle  with  the  disease.  It  may  find  a 
 sunnier  clime,  in  which  the  wasted  frame 
 may  pine  and  languish,  till  it  be  laid  to 
 rest  in  its  long  home.  But  there  the 
 power  of  money  ends.  How  is  it  with 
 godliness  ?  It  cannot  purchase  the  softer 
 pillow.  Yes  it  can.  It  can  place  the  aching 
 head,  the  aching  heart  on  the  pillow — 
 the  soft,  the  downy  pillow  of  contentment. 
 "  Father,  not  my  will,  but  Thine  be  done." 
 It  can  secure  the  services  of  the  great 
 physician  and  the  balm  of  Gilead — the 
 hand  that  heals  both  soul  and  body.  It 
 can  waft  the  wearied  heart,  that  feels  the 
 pangs  of  suff'ering,  the  inroads  of  disease, 
 or  the  approach  of  death,  that  heart  it  can 
 waft  into  the  sunnier  regions  of  eternal 
 day ;  and  while  the  wasted  body  pines, 
 the  brightening  spirit,  hovering  on  the 
 outskirts  of  heaven,  tastes  a  peace  that 
 passeth  all  understanding,  a  joy  unspeak- 
 able and  full  of  glory.  jR.  B.  Mchol. 
 
 GODLINESS  AND  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 
 
 These  terms  are  both  used  in  a  spiritual 
 sense,  and  cannot,  without  an  indecorous 
 affectation  of  religion,  be  introduced  into 
 any  other  discourse  than  that  which  is 
 properly  spiritual.  Godliness,  in  the  strict 
 sense,  is  that  outward  deportment  which 
 characterises  a  heavenly  temper;  prayer, 
 reading  of  the  Scriptures,  public  worship, 
 and  every  religious  act,  enters  into  the 
 signification  of  godliness,  which  at  the  same 
 time  supposes  a  temper  of  mind,  not  only 
 to  delight  in,  but  to  profit  by  such  exer- 
 cises. Eighteousness,  on  the  other  hand, 
 comprehends  Christian  morality,  in  distinc- 
 tion from  that  of  the  heathen  or  unbeliever ; 
 a  righteous  man  does  right,  not  only  be- 
 cause it  \?,right,\\\\.i  because  it  is  agreeable 
 to  the  will  of  his  Maker,  and  the  example 
 of  his  Redeemer;  vvV//i/eo!MHes«  is  therefore 
 to  godliness  as  the  effect  to  the  cause.  The 
 godly  man  goes  to  the  sanctuary,  and  by 
 converse  with  his  Maker  assimilates  all  his 
 affections  to  the  character  of  that  Being 
 whom  he  worships;  when  he  leaves  the 
 sanctuary  he  proves  the  efficacy  of  his  god- 
 liness by  his  righteous  converse  with  his 
 fellow-creatures.  It  is  easy,  however,  for 
 men  to  mistake  the  means  for  the  end,  and 
 to  rest  with  godliness  without  righteous- 
 ness.  G.  Crabb. 
 
 GODLY  LIVES. 
 
 When  we  have  Bible  conversations,  our 
 lives,  as  rich  diamonds,  cast  a  sparkling 
 lustre  in  the  Church  of  God,  and  are,  in 
 some  sense,  parallel  with  the  life  of  Christ, 
 as  the  transcript  with  the  original. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 GODLY  SORROW. 
 
 The  broken  box  of  Mary,  who  poured 
 the  ointment  on  the  feet  of  Jesus,  was  but 
 the  symbol  of  her  now  broken  and  contrite 
 heart,  out  of  which  love  and  grief  and 
 hopes — perfumesmore  exquisitethan  spike- 
 nard— flowed  freely.  And  Christ  under- 
 stood it  all.  He  knew  the  secret  of  her 
 grief,  and  she  read  her  acceptance  in  His 
 smile.  That  is  a  beautiful  saying  of  St. 
 Augustine,  "  If  thou  wouldst  that  the 
 Most  High  should  draw  nigh  to  thee,  be 
 lowly.  God  is  above  all.  Thou  raisest 
 thyself,  and  touchest  not  Him  ;  thou  hum- 
 blest thyself,  and,  lo  !  He  descendeth  unto 
 thee."  Luther  hit  the  mark  when  he  said, 
 "  What  are  all  the  palaces  of  the  woild  to 
 a  contrite  heart ;  yea,  heaven  and  earth, 
 seeing  it  is  the  seat  of  the  Divine 
 Majesty  ?"  Anon. 
 
 GODLY  SORROW  AND  REPENTANCE. 
 
 Sorrow  for  sins  is  not  repentance;  not 
 that  duty  which  gives  glory  to  God,  so  as 
 to  obtain  of  Him  that  He  will  glorify  us. 
 Eepentence  is  a  great  volume  of  duty  ;  and 
 
GOLD— GOOD  AND  EVIL. 
 
 godly  sorrow  is  but  the  frontispiece  or 
 title  page ;  it  is  the  harbinger  or  first  in- 
 troduction to  it ;  or,  if  you  will  consider  it 
 in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  "  Godly  sorrow 
 worketh  repentance ;"  sorrow  is  the  parent 
 and  repentance  is  the  product. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 GOLD— Better  than. 
 
 Eeader,  are  there  not  things  more  pre- 
 cious than  gold  and  bank  stocks  ?  When 
 the  Central  America  was  foundering  at  sea, 
 bags  and  purses  of  g:old  were  strewn  about 
 the  deck  as  worthless,  as  the  merest  rub- 
 bish. "Life,  life,"  was  the  prayer.  To 
 some  of  the  wretched  survivors,  "  Water, 
 water;  bread,  bread;"  it  was  worth  its 
 weight  in  gold,  if  it  could  have  been  bought. 
 And  oh  !  above  all — far  above  all — the  sal- 
 vation of  your  soul  is  precious.  It  is  not 
 yet  finally  lost.     Is  it  saved  ?  Anon. 
 
 GOLD — Longing  for. 
 
 Midas  longed  for  gold,  and  insulted  the 
 Olympians.  He  got  gold,  so  that  whatever 
 he  touched  became  gold,  and  he,  with  his 
 long  ears,  was  little  the  better  for  it. 
 Midas  had  insulted  Apollo  and  the  gods; 
 the  gods  gave  him  his  wish,  and  a  pair  of 
 long  ears,  which  also  were  a  good  appen- 
 dage to  it.  What  a  truth  in  these  old 
 fables !  Carlyle. 
 
 GOLD— Mottoes  about. 
 
 A  vain  man's  motto  is,  "  Win  gold  and 
 wear  it ;"  a  generous,  "  Win  gold  and 
 share  it :"  a  miser's,  "  Win  gold  and  spare 
 it ;"  a  profligate's,  "  Win  gold  and  spend 
 it ;"  a  broker's,  "  Win  gold  and  lend  it ;" 
 a  gambler's,  "  Win  gold  and  lose  it ;"  a 
 wise  man's,  "  Win  gold  and  use  it." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 GOLD— Phases  of. 
 
 Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold! 
 Bright  and  yellow,  hard  and  cold, 
 Molten,  graven,  hammer'd,  and  roll'd ; 
 Heavy  to  get  and  light  to  hold ; 
 Hoarded,  barter'd,  bought  and  sold, 
 Stolen,  borrow'd,  squander'd,  doled  ;     [old 
 Spurn'd  by  the  young,  but  hugg'd  by  the 
 To    the    very   verge   of    the   church-yard 
 
 mould ; 
 Price  of  many  a  crime  untold; 
 Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold! 
 Good  or  bad  a  thousand  fold  ! 
 How  widely  its  agencies  vary, — 
 To  save — to  ruin — to  curse — to  bless — 
 As  even  its  minted  coins  express, — 
 Now   stamp'd   with   the    image   of    good 
 
 Queen  Bess, 
 And  now  ot  a  bloody  Mary.  T.  Sood^ 
 
 GOLD— in  the  World. 
 
 Estimate  the  yard  of  gold  at  £2,000,000, 
 which  it  is  in  round  numbers  ;  and  all  the 
 gold  in  the  world  might,  if  melted  into  in- 
 
 gots, be  contained  in  a  cellar  twenty-four 
 feet  square  and  sixteen  feet  high.  All  the 
 boasted  wealth  already  obtained  from  Cali- 
 fornia and  Australia  would  go  into  an  iroa 
 safe  nine  feet  square  and  nine  feet  high — 
 so  small  is  the  cube  of  yellow  metal  that 
 has  set  populations  on  the  march,  that 
 roused  the  whole  world  to  wonder. 
 
 The  contributions  of  the  people,  in  the 
 time  of  David,  for  the  Sanctuary  exceeded 
 £6,800,000.  The  immense  treasure  David 
 is  said  to  have  collected  for  the  sanctuary 
 amounted  to  889  millions  of  pounds  ster- 
 ling (Crito  says  798  millions) — a  sum 
 greater  than  the  British  National  Debt. 
 The  gold  with  which  Solomon  overlaid  the 
 "  most  holy  place,"  only  a  room  thirty  feet 
 square,  amounted  to  more  than  thirty-eight 
 millions  sterling.  Timbs. 
 
 GOOD  AND  GOODNESS. 
 
 Good  and  goodness  are  abstract  terms, 
 drawn  from  the  same  word  ;  the  former  to 
 denote  the  thing  that  is  good,  the  latter 
 the  inherent  good  property  of  a  thing. 
 All  good  comes  from  God,  whose  goodness 
 towards  His  creatures  is  unbounded. 
 
 The  good  we  dp  is  determined  by  the 
 tendency  of  the  action ;  but  our  goodness 
 in  doing  it  is  determined  by  the  motive  of 
 our  actions.  Good  is  of  a  twofold  nature, 
 physical  and  moral,  and  is  opposed  to  evil ; 
 goodness  is  applicable  either  to  the  dispo- 
 sition of  moral  agents  or  the  qualities  of 
 inanimate  objects;  it  is  opposed  to  bad- 
 ness. By  the  order  of  Providence  the 
 most  horrible  convulsions  are  made  to 
 bring  about  good  ;  the  goodness  or  badness 
 of  any  fruit  depends  upon  its  fitness  to  be 
 enjoyed.  O.  Crabh. 
 
 GOOD  AND  EVIL— Struggle  of. 
 
 We  may  look  at  David  and  Goliath  as 
 they  appear  in  contest,  as  illustrating  the 
 forms,  spirits,  tueapons,  and  destiny  of  the 
 great  moral  antagonists  of  our  world — 
 good  and  evil. 
 
 First,  these  two  men  give  us  a  picture 
 of  the  forms  of  good  and  evil.  Evil  in  our 
 world  is  like  Goliath — of  gigantic  stature, 
 immense  energy,  and  imposing  aspect.  It 
 is  a  colossus.  Good  in  our  world  is  like 
 David  in  its  appearance — small,  weak,  and 
 insignificant ;  possessing  nothing  to  which 
 the  world  attaches  the  idea  of  strength  or 
 glory.  So  it  appeared  in  Christ.  "  He 
 was  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground." 
 
 Secondly,  these  two  men  give  us  a  pic- 
 ture of  the  spirit  of  good  and  evil.  The 
 spirit  of  evil,  like  that  of  Goliath,  is  proud, 
 contemptuous,  malignant.  The  spirit  of 
 good,  like  that  of  David,  is  that  of  humble 
 trust  and  dependence  upon  God. 
 
 Thirdly,  these  two  men  give  us  a  picture 
 of  the  weapons  of  good  and  evil.  Evil 
 like    Goliath,    has    many    and    powerful 
 
394 
 
 GOOD  NAME— GOOD-NATURE  AND  GOOD-HUMOUR. 
 
 weapons  to  fight  its  battles.  Like  Goliath, 
 it  is  fuU-anued.  Annies  and  navies  are 
 on  its  side.  The  weapons  of  good  are  of 
 the  simplest  kind ;  the  sling  and  stone  of 
 David  would  symbolise  them.  "  The  wea- 
 pons of  our  warfare,"  &c. 
 
 Fourthly,  these  two  men  give  us  a  pic- 
 ture of  the  ultimate  destinies  of  good  and 
 evil.  Goliath,  notwithstanding  his  great 
 strength,  proud  vanities  and  mighty  wea- 
 pons, was  slain,  and  his  body  given  to  the 
 fowls  of  heaven,  and  the  beasts  of  the 
 earth.  So  it  will  be  with  evil.  Like  the 
 image  in  the  monarch's  vision,  the  little 
 stone  of  truth  shall  shiver  it  into  atoms. 
 The  end  of  truth  will  be  like  that  of  David 
 — triumphant  and  progressive  in  honour 
 and  influence  in  the  empire  of  God. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 GOOD  NAME— Course  of  a. 
 
 As  a  rill  from  a  fountain  increases  as  it 
 flows,  rises  into  a  stream,  swells  into  a 
 river,  so,  symbolically,  are  the  origin  and 
 course  of  a  good  name.  At  first,  its  begin- 
 ning is  small ;  it  takes  its  rise  from  home, 
 its  natural  source,  extends  to  the  neigh- 
 bourhood, stretches  through  the  commu- 
 nity, and,  finally  takes  a  range  proportioned 
 to  the  qualities  by  which  it  is  supported — 
 its  talents,  virtue,  and  usefulness,  the  surest 
 basis  of  an  honorable  reputation. 
 
 W.  Mackenzie. 
 
 GOOD  NAME— Definition  of  a. 
 
 A  good  name  is  properly  that  reputation 
 of  virtue  that  every  man  may  challenge  as 
 his  right  and  due  in  the  opinions  of  others, 
 till  he  has  made  forfeit  of  it  by  the  vicious- 
 ness  of  his  actions.  Dr.  South. 
 
 GOOD  NAME— Destroying  a. 
 
 He  that  tears  away  a  man's  good  name, 
 tears  his  flesh  from  liis  bones,  and  by  let- 
 ting hiui  live,  gives  him  only  a  cruel 
 opportunity  of  feeling  his  misery,  of  bury- 
 ing his  better  part,  and  surviving  himself. 
 Ibid. 
 GOOD  NAME— Preserving  a. 
 
 'Twas  good  counsel  the  moralist  gave, 
 when  he  said,  Whatsoever  commodity  you 
 lose,  be  sure  yet  to  preserve  that  jewel  of 
 a  good  name.  A  good  renown  is  better 
 than  a  golden  girdle,  say  some.  And  a 
 man's  eye  and  his  good  name  can  bear  no 
 jests,  say  others.  And  if  I  may  but  keep 
 a  good  name,  I  have  wealth  enough,  said 
 the  naturalist.  0  friends !  as  ever  you 
 would  keep  a  good  name,  keep  ofl:'  from 
 the  very  appearance  of  evil,  for  the  very 
 appearance  of  evil  will  both  eclipse  and 
 wound  a  man's  name  and  his  conscience 
 at  once.  Certainly  a  man  were  better  not 
 to  live  than  to  outlive  his  good  name.  A 
 man's  good  name  is  like  a  piece  of  white 
 
 paper,  which  if  once  blotted,  will  very 
 h;irdly  be  got  out  again,  so  as  to  leave  no 
 point  of  it  behind;  it  is  like  a  fair  struc- 
 ture a  long  time  a  rearing,  but  quickly 
 ruined ;  or  like  a  merchant's  estate,  long  a 
 getting,  but  lost  in  a  moment.  And  there- 
 fore how  much  does  it  concern  every 
 Christian  to  keep  his  name  as  he  would 
 keep  his  life,  and  this  he  can  never  do,  ex- 
 cept he  keep  oft'  from  the  appearance  of 
 evil.  'Tis  his  name  only  that  shall  be  kept 
 green  and  flourishing,  like  the  rod  of  Aaron 
 that  was  laid  up  in  the  tabernacle,  who 
 keeps  ofl' from  the  appearance  of  evil.  He 
 takes  the  best  and  wisest  course  under 
 heaven  to  preserve  his  good  name  in  the 
 world,  and  to  maintain  the  peace  of  his 
 conscionce,  who  is  most  studious  and  in- 
 dustrious to  abstain  from  all  appearance  of 
 evil.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 GOOD  NAME— once  Tainted. 
 
 Garments  that  have  once  one  rent  in 
 them,  are  subject  to  be  torn  on  every  nail ; 
 and  glasses  that  are  once  cracked  are  soon 
 broken  ;  such  is  man's  good  name  once 
 tainted  with  just  reproach.  JB^.  Hall, 
 
 GOOD  NAME— Value  of  a. 
 
 Good  name,  in  man  and  woman,  is  the 
 immediate  jewel  of  their  souls. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 GOOD-NATURE— Definition  of. 
 
 Good-nature,  by  which  I  mean  benefi- 
 cence and  candour.  Dryden. 
 
 GOOD-NATURE- Influence  of. 
 
 'Tis  good-«iature  only  wins  the  heart : 
 It  moulds  the  body  to  an  easy  grace. 
 And  brightens  every  feature  of  the  face  : 
 It  smoothes  the  unpolished  tongue  with 
 
 eloquence, 
 And  adds  persuasion  to  the  finest  sense. 
 
 Siillingjleet. 
 
 GOOD-NATURE  AND  GOOD-HUMOUR. 
 
 Good-nature  and  good-humour  both  im- 
 ply the  disposition  to  please  and  be  pleased ; 
 but  the  former  is  habitual  and  permanent 
 the  latter  is  temporary  and  partial  ;  the 
 former  lies  in  the  nature  and  frame  of  the 
 mind,  the  latter  in  the  state  of  the  humours 
 or  spirits.  A  good-natured  man  recommends 
 himself  at  all  times  for  his  good-nature  ;  a 
 good-humoured  man  recommends  himself 
 l)articularly  as  a  companion ;  good-nature 
 displays  itself  by  a  readiness  in  doing  kind 
 offices;  good-humour  is  confined  mostly  to 
 the  ease  and  cheerfulness  of  one's  outward 
 deportment  in  social  converse ;  good-nature 
 is  apt  to  be  guilty  of  weak  compliances; 
 good-humour  is  apt  to  be  succeeded  by  fits 
 of  peevishness  and  depression ;  good-nature 
 is  applicable  only  to  the  character  of  the 
 individual ;  good-humour  may  be  said  of 
 
GOODNESS— GOOD  WORKS. 
 
 395 
 
 a  whole  company :  it  is  a  mark  of  good- 
 nature in  a  man  who  will  not  disturb  the 
 good-humour  of  the  company  he  is  in,  by 
 resenting  the  affront  that  is  oftered  him 
 by  another.  Q.  Crabb. 
 
 GOODNESS— Immortality  of. 
 
 There  is  nothing,  no,  nothing,  innocent 
 or  good,  that  dies  and  is  forgotten ;  let  us 
 hold  that  faith,  or  none.  An  infant,  a 
 prattling  child,  dying  in  its  cradle,  will 
 live  again  in  the  better  thoughts  of  those 
 who  loved  it;  and  plays  its  part  through 
 them,  in  the  redeeming  actions  of  the 
 world,  though  its  body  be  burnt  to  ashes, 
 or  drowned  in  the  deepest  sea.  There  is 
 not  an  angel  added  to  the  host  of  heaven , 
 but  does  its  blessed  work  on  earth  in  those 
 that  loved  it  here.  Forgotten !  Oh.  if  the 
 good  deeds  of  human  creatures  could  be 
 traced  to  their  source,  how  beautiful  would 
 even  death  appear ;  for  how  much  charity, 
 mercy,  and  purified  affection,  would  be  seen 
 to  have  growth  in  dusty  graves. 
 
 C.  Dickens. 
 GOODNESS— Nature  of. 
 
 Goodness  is  love  in  action,  love  with  its 
 hand  at  the  plough,  love  with  the  burden 
 on  its  back.  It  is  love  carrying  medicine 
 to  the  sick,  and  food  to  the  famished.  It 
 is  love  reading  the  Bible  to  the  blind,  and 
 explaining  the  Gospel  to  the  felon  in  his 
 cell.  It  is  love  at  the  Sunday-class,  or  in 
 the  Ragged  School.  It  is  love  at  the 
 hovel-door,  or  sailing  far  away  in  the 
 missionary  ship.  But  whatever  task  it 
 undertakes,  it  is  still  the  same — love  fol- 
 lowing His  footsteps,  "  who  went  about 
 continually  DOING  GOOD." 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 GOODNESS— Superficial. 
 
 There  is  a  variety  of  mineral  which, 
 when  held  before  the  light,  exhibits  trans- 
 lucency  only  ou  its  edges.  They  are  dark 
 in  the  centre ;  such  are  marble,  flint,  and 
 hornstone.  It  is  so  with  some  men ;  the 
 light  of  Christianity  has  shone  upon  them 
 and  modified  much  of  their  external  con- 
 duct, and  produced  a  considerable  regard 
 for  piety,  hut  within,  the  centre  of  their 
 being,  remains  in  the  darkness  of  sin. 
 
 Frofessor  Hitclicocic, 
 
 GOODNESS— True. 
 
 True  goodness  is  like  the  glow-worm  in 
 this,  that  it  shines  most  when  no  eyes,  ex- 
 cept those  of  heaven,  are  upon  it. 
 
 Sare. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Antecedent  of. 
 
 It  is  not  in  divinity,  as  the  philosophers 
 say  in  morality,  by  doing  good  works  we 
 are  made  good ;  no,  we  are  by  grace  made 
 good,  then  we  do  good:  as  the  fountain 
 
 must  be  before  the  stream,  and  the  root  or 
 tree  before  the  fruit.  Thus  our  Saviour 
 says,  "  Make  the  tree  good,  and  the  fruit 
 will  be  good."  Thus  Abel's  person  is  first 
 accepted,  then  his  performancte. 
 
 Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— of  the  Christian. 
 
 If  so  be  that  a  Christian  doth  good 
 works,  whereby  he  showeth  love  to  his 
 neighbour,  he  is  not  therefore  made  a 
 Christian,  or  righteous,  but  he  must  needs 
 be  a  Christian,  and  righteous,  before;  he 
 doth  good  works,  indeed,  but  they  do  not 
 make  a  Christian;  the  tree  bringeth  forth 
 and  giveth  fruit,  and  not  the  fruit  the 
 tree  ;  so  none  is  made  a  Christian  by 
 works,  but  by  Christ.  Luther. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— before  Conversion. 
 
 All  thy  struggles  against  sin  in  thine 
 own  heart  and  life  are  nought.  The  proud 
 Pharisee  aftticted  his  body  with  fasting, 
 and  God  struck  his  soul  in  the  mean  time 
 with  a  sentence  of  condemnation  (Luke 
 xviii).  Balaam  struggled  with  his  covetous 
 temper  to  that  degree,  that  though  he 
 loved  the  wages  of  unrighteousness,  yet 
 he  would  not  win  them  by  cursing  Israel  j 
 but  he  died  the  death  of  the  wicked  (Numb. 
 xxxi,  8).  All  thou  dost,  while  in  an  unre- 
 generate  state,  is  for  thyself;  and  there- 
 fore it  will  fare  with  thee  as  with  a  sub- 
 ject, who,  having  reduced  the  rebels,  puts 
 the  crown  on  his  own  head,  and  therefore 
 loseth  all  his  good  service,  and  his  head 
 too.  Boston. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Definition  of. 
 
 Good  works  are  works  of  piety,  works  of 
 righteousness,  works  of  charity;  every  work 
 that  comes  from  a  good  cause,  commanded 
 by  a  rule  of  goodness,  performed  in  a  good 
 manner,  to  a  good  end,  is  a  good  work, 
 whether  the  object  matter  be  Gud  or  man. 
 Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Endurance  of. 
 
 Your  actions,  in  passing,  pass  not  away, 
 for  every  good  work  is  a  grain  of  seed  for 
 eternal  life.  Bernard. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— declarations  of  Faith. 
 
 I  must  bestow  my  works  so  that  they 
 may  be  a  certain  sign,  and  as  it  were  a 
 seal  graven  with  letters,  whereby  I  may 
 be  assured  that  my  faith  is  sincere;  for  if 
 I  feel  in  my  heart  that  my  works  proceed 
 from  love,  I  am  sure  concerning  the  in- 
 tegrity and  soundness  of  my  faith.  If  I 
 forgive,  the  same  forgiveness  doth  assure 
 me  concerning  the  sincerity  of  my  faith, 
 doth  declare  my  faith,  and  certify  me  that 
 God  hath  also  pardoned  my  sin,  and  doth 
 daily  more  and  more  pardon  me.  So  it 
 fell  out  with  Abraham,  his  work  made  hia 
 
396 
 
 GOOD  "WORKS— GOSPEL. 
 
 faith  known  unto  him.  God  indeed  knew 
 that  he  did  believe,  but  it  behoved  that 
 Abraliam  also  should  know,  and  show  forth 
 his  faith;  wheretbre  works  following  only 
 freely  as  fruits  of  faith,  are  declarations  of 
 such  a  faith.  Luther. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— without  Faith. 
 
 Without  faith,  all  that  is  done  of  us  is 
 but  dead  before  God,  although  the  work 
 seem  never  so  gay  and  glorious  before  man. 
 Even  as  the  picture  graven  or  painted  is 
 but  a  dead  representation  of  the  thing 
 itself,  and  is  without  life,  or  any  manner 
 of  moving,  so  be  the  works  of  all  unfaithful 
 persons  before  God ;  they  do  appear  to  be 
 lively  works,  and  indeed  they  be  but  dead, 
 not  availing  to  the  everlasting  life ;  they 
 be  but  shadows  and  shows  of  lively  and 
 good  things,  and  not  good  and  lively  things 
 indeed ;  for  true  faith  doth  give  life  to  the 
 works,  and  out  of  such  faith  come  good 
 works,  that  be  very  good  works  indeed; 
 and  without  faith  no  work  is  good  before 
 God,  as  saith  St.  Augustine.  Homilies. 
 
 GOOD  "WORKS— Product  of  Goodness. 
 
 As  there  are  no  fruits  before  there  is  a 
 tree,  so  works  cannot  be  good  unless  the 
 person  be  first  righteous  and  good.      Ibid. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Plow  from  Love. 
 
 Verily  good  works  constitute  a  refresh- 
 ing stream  in  this  world,  wherever  they 
 are  found  flowing.  It  is  a  pity  that  they 
 are  too  often  like  oriental  torrents,  "  waters 
 that  fail"  in  the  time  of  greatest  need. 
 When  we  meet  the  stream  actually  flowing 
 and  refreshing  the  land,  we  trace  it  up- 
 ward in  order  to  discover  the  fountain 
 whence  it  springs.  Threading  our  way 
 upward,  guided  by  the  river,  we  have 
 found  at  length  the  placid  lake  from 
 which  tlie  river  runs.  Behind  all  genuine 
 good  works  and  above  them,  love  will, 
 sooner  or  later,  certainly  be  found.  It  is 
 never  good  works  alone  ;  uniformly,  in 
 fact,  and  necessarily  in  the  nature  of 
 things,  we  find  the  two  constituents  ex- 
 isting as  a  complex  whole,  "  love  and 
 good  works,"  the  fountain  and  the  flow- 
 ing stream.  Arnot. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Manifesting. 
 
 Those  which  are  planted  in  the  Church 
 must  not  conceal  the  grace  they  have  re- 
 ceived, no  more  than  a  tree  doth  his  sap. 
 We  glory  in  the  discovery  of  rich  metals 
 and  precious  stones,  which  nature  hath 
 buried  in  the  sea ;  we  suff^er  nothing  of 
 this  great  world  to  lie  hid,  we  labour  to 
 bring  it  forth,  to  behold,  to  show  it :  so 
 should  we  deal  with  the  gifts  and  graces 
 of  the  Spirit,  which  God  hath  treasured  up 
 in  this  little  world  of  ours.  True  grace  is 
 diffusive:  no  tree  can  more  strive  to  send 
 
 forth  fruit  than  it  wiU,  to  show  itself  in 
 good  works.  Spencer. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— No  Merit  in. 
 
 Should  e'er  Thy  wonder-working  grace 
 
 Triumph  by  our  weak  arm, 
 Let  not  our  sinful  fancy  trace 
 
 Aught  human  in  the  charm  : 
 
 To  our  own  nets  ne'er  bow  we  down. 
 
 Lest  on  the  eternal  shore 
 The  angels,  while  our  draught  they  own. 
 
 Reject  us  evermore; 
 
 Or,  if  for  our  unworthiness 
 
 Toil,  prayer,  and  watching  fail, 
 
 In  disappointment  Thou  canst  bless. 
 
 So  love  at  heart  prevail.  J.  Kelle. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Partial. 
 
 As  good  fruit  sometimes  grows  on  trees 
 that  are  partly  corrupt  or  dead ;  so  may 
 good  works  sometimes  be  found  in  the 
 lives  of  Christians  who  are  not  fully  alive 
 to  their  privileges  and  entirely  sanctified 
 by  grace.  But  as  the  tree  all  healthy  and 
 alive,  bears  the  most  fruit,  and  is  most 
 prized  by  the  owner,  so  that  Christian  who 
 is  most  like  Christ,  produces  the  largest 
 amount  of  good  works,  and  is  most  beloved 
 of  God.  "  Herein  is  my  Father  glorified, 
 that  ye  bear  much  fruit."  John  Bate. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Planning. 
 
 Contrive  over  night,  the  good  works  you 
 are  to  do  next  day,  if  God  spare  you :  on 
 what  points  you  are  to  meditate,  what  sin 
 you  are  to  vanquish,  what  virtue  you  are 
 to  practise,  what  business  j'ou  are  to  do : 
 that  with  a  well-digested  foresight  you 
 may  give  birth  to  everything  in  its  own 
 time.  This  is  Ariadne's  clew,  whicli  guides 
 our  actions  in  the  labyrinth  of  time,  with- 
 out which  all  would  go  to  confusion. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Profit  of. 
 
 As  ciphers,  added  one  by  one  in  an  end- 
 less row  to  the  left  hand  of  a  unit  are  of 
 no  value,  but  en  the  right  hand  rapidly 
 multiply  its  power,  so,  although  good 
 works  are  of  no  avail  to  make  a  man  a 
 Christian,  yet  a  Christian's  good  works 
 are  both  pleasing  to  God  and  profitable 
 to  men.  Arnot. 
 
 GOOD  WORKS— Trusting  in. 
 
 As  a  man  walking  over  a  rotten  covering 
 on  a  pit's  mouth  will,  in  all  probability, 
 fall  in  and  be  killed,  so  the  man  who  trusts 
 in  his  good  works  to  get  to  heaven  will 
 find  that  they  are  all  rottenness,  and  will 
 give  way  under  him,  and  sink  him  into 
 the  punishment  of  hell.  John  Bate. 
 
 GOSPEL— Action  of  the. 
 
 It  begins  in  the  individual's  heart,  and 
 
GOSPEL. 
 
 S97 
 
 secretly,  silently,  but  powerfully,  and  with- 
 out force,  or  fraud,  or  noise,  it  spreads,  till 
 the  whole  nature  is  penetrated  by  its  in- 
 fluence, and  assimilated  to  a  new  character. 
 It  is  silent  as  the  dew  of  heaven,  but  as 
 saturating  also.  Like  a  sweet  stream,  it 
 runs  along  many  a  mile  in  silent  beauty. 
 You  may  trace  its  course,  not  by  roaring 
 cataracts,  and  rolling  boulders,  and  rent 
 rocks,  but  by  the  belt  of  verdure,  greenness, 
 and  fertility,  that  extends  along  its  margin. 
 The  fact  is,  all  great  forces  are  silent; 
 strength  is  quiet :  all  great  things  are  still  ; 
 high  brows  are  calm.  It  is  the  vulgar 
 idea,  that  thunder  and  lightning  are  the 
 mightiest  forces  because  they  are  the  most 
 audible.  Gravitation,  which  is  unseen  and 
 unheard,  binds  suns  and  stars  into  har- 
 mony, and  puts  forth  a  force  vastly  greater 
 than  that  of  the  lightning.  The  light, 
 which  comes  so  silently  that  it  does  not 
 injure  an  infant's  eye,  makes  the  whole 
 earth  burst  into  buds  and  blossoms,  and 
 yet  it  is  not  heard.  Thus,  love  and  truth, 
 the  compound  elements  of  the  gospel  leaven, 
 are  silent,  but  mighty  in  their  action, 
 mightier  far  than  hate  and  persecution, 
 and  bribes  and  falsehoods,  and  sword  and 
 musket.  Souls  are  won  not  by  might,  nor 
 by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit,  saith  the  Lord 
 of  Hosts.  Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 GOSPEL— Ashamed  of  the. 
 
 Ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ !  Let 
 the  sceptic,  let  the  wicked  profligate,  blush 
 at  his  deeds  of  darkness,  which  will  not 
 bear  the  light,  lest  they  should  be  made 
 manifest;  but  never  let  the  Christian 
 blush  to  own  the  holy  Gospel.  Where  is 
 the  philosopher  who  is  ashamed  to  own  the 
 God  of  nature  ?  Where  is  the  Jew  that  is 
 ashamed  of  Moses  ?  or  the  Moslem  that  is 
 ashamed  of  Mahomet  ?  and  shall  the  Chris- 
 tian, and  the  Christian  minister,  be  ashamed 
 of  Christ  ?  God  forbid !  No !  let  me  be 
 ashamed  of  myself,  let  me  be  ashamed  of 
 the  world,  and  let  me  blush  at  sin,  but 
 never,  never,  let  me  be  ashamed  of  the 
 Gospel  of  Christ !  Dr.  R.  Newton. 
 
 GOSPEL— Difficulties  in  the. 
 
 Whoever  takes  pains  to  survey  the  circle 
 of  the  Sciences,  will  perceive  that  there  is 
 not  one  to  which  difiiculties  are  not  at- 
 tached, and  against  which  objections  may 
 not  be  raised.  Those  who  profess  a  natu- 
 ral religion  are  involved  in  similar  diflS- 
 culties,  and  must  throw  it  away  as  well 
 as  the  Gospel  if  a  full  and  satisfactory 
 answer  to  every  objection  be  essential  to 
 their  belief;  so  that  the  Deist  is,  in  this 
 respect,  more  nearly  on  a  level  with  the 
 Christian  than  he  is  aware.  Anon. 
 
 GOSPEL— Evidence  of  the. 
 
 The   evidence  which   the    Lord    Jesus 
 
 Christ  proposed  as  proof  of  the  Divinity  of 
 the  gospel  system,  was  its  practical  effect 
 upon  individuals  who  receive  and  obey  the 
 truth.  "  If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he 
 shall  know  the  doctrine,  whether  it  be 
 of  God."  If  a  sick  man  calls  a  physician, 
 who  prescribes  a  certain  medicine,  which, 
 by  his  receiving  it  according  to  the  direc- 
 tions, cures  him,  he  then  knows  both  the 
 efficacy  of  the  medicine,  and  the  skill  of 
 the  physician.  Experience  is  evidence  to 
 the  saints  of  the  Divinity  of  the  system. 
 And  its  effects,  in  restoring  the  soul  to 
 moral  health,  is  evidence  to  the  world  of 
 the  Divine  efficacy  and  power  of  its  doc- 
 trines. "By  their  fruits  ye.  shall  know 
 them."  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 GOSPEL— Exaltation  of  the. 
 
 The  Gospel  exalts  man,  but  exalts  him 
 that,  like  an  exhalation,  sun-drawn  from 
 the  ground,  and  borne  up  to  heaven,  he 
 may  form  a  sparkling  drop  in  the  bow, 
 which  encircles  the  head  that  God  crowns 
 with  glory,  and  man  once  crowned  with 
 thorns.  Dr.  Gtifhrie. 
 
 GOSPEL— not  Gloomy. 
 
 The  Gospel  gloomy !  It  is  an  anthem 
 from  the  harps  of  heaven,  the  music  of  the 
 River  of  Life  washing  its  shores  on  high 
 and  pouring  in  cascades  upon  the  earth. 
 Not  so  cheerful  was  the  song  of  the  morn- 
 ing stars,  nor  the  shout  of  the  sons  of  God 
 so  joyful.  Gushing  from  the  fountains  of 
 eternal  harmony,  it  was  first  heard  on  earth 
 in  a  low  tone  of  solemn  gladness,  uttered 
 in  Eden,  by  the  Lord  God  Himself.  This 
 gave  the  key-note  of  the  gospel  song. 
 Patriarchs  caught  it  up,  and  taught  it  to 
 the  generations  following.  It  breathed 
 from  the  harp  of  the  psalmists,  and  rang 
 like  a  clarion  from  tower  and  mountain- 
 top,  as  prophets  proclaimed  the  year  of 
 jubilee.  Fresh  notes  from  heaven  have  en- 
 riched the  harmony,  as  the  Lord  of  hosts 
 and  His  angels  have  revealed  new  promises, 
 and  called  on  the  suffering  children  of  Zion 
 to  be  joyful  in  their  King.  From  bondage 
 and  exile,  from  dens  and  caves,  from  bloody 
 fields  and  fiery  stakes  and  peaceful  death- 
 beds have  they  answered,  in  tones  which 
 have  cheered  the  disconsolate,  and  made 
 oppressors  shake  upon  their  thrones;  while 
 sun  and  moon,  and  all  the  stars  of  light, 
 stormy  wind  fulfilling  His  word,  the  roar- 
 ing sea  and  the  fulness  thereof,  mountains 
 and  hills,  fruitful  fields  and  all  the  trees  of 
 the  wood  have  rejoiced  before  the  Lord, 
 and  the  coming  of  His  Anointed,  for  the 
 redemption  of  His  people,  and  the  glory  of 
 His  holy  name.  Dr.  Hoge. 
 
 GOSPEL— Hope  of  the. 
 
 The  Gospel's  glorious  hope : 
 Its  rule  of  purity,  its  eye  of  prayer, 
 
GOSPEL. 
 
 Its  feet  of  firmness,  on  temptation's  steep 
 
 Its  bark  that  fails  not,  mid  tlie  storm  of 
 
 death.  Mrs.  Sigourney. 
 
 GOSPEL— Life  of  the. 
 
 1.  It  is  Divine  life— from  God  (Eph,  iv, 
 
 18): 
 
 2.  It  is  a  Christian  as  well  as  a  Divine 
 life;  a  life  that  comes  from  Christ,  as  our 
 Redeemer,  as  God-man  and  Mediator. 
 
 3.  It  is  a  pure  and  holy  life. 
 
 4.  It  is  an  active,  a  laborious,  and  fruit- 
 ful life. 
 
 5.  It  is  a  most  generous  sort  of  life ; 
 that  disdains  mean  things,  cannot  feed 
 upon  earth  and  ashes. 
 
 6.  It  is  a  devoted  life ;  sacred  to  God  in 
 Christ  .Tesus. 
 
 7.  It  is,  finally,  immortal,  eternal  life. 
 
 J.  Howe, 
 
 GOSPEL— as  Light. 
 
 The  Gospel  is  "  light."  This  marks  its 
 origin,  from  heaven.  It  is  no  human  de- 
 vice, but  comes  from  God  Himself. 
 
 It  is  "  light."  This  denotes  its  truth. 
 It  is  fitting  that  what  is  truth,  without 
 mixture  of  error,  should  be  compared  to 
 the  most  simple  substance  in  nature. 
 
 It  is  called  "  light"  because  of  its  pene- 
 trating and  subtle  nature.  Kindle  it  up, 
 and  no  shade  is  so  gross  that  it  cannot 
 penetrate  it;  there  is  no  imposture  so  well 
 devised  which  it  will  not  expose ;  there  are 
 no  works  of  darkness  which  it  will  not 
 drag  to  light  and  shame;  there  is  no  con- 
 science so  callous  but  this  light  will  search 
 it. 
 
 It  is  called  "  light,"  because  of  the  dis- 
 coveries which  it  makes.  It  is  a  "  great 
 liglit."  It  makes  manifest  the  invisible 
 God,  in  His  awful  and  mild  glories.  It 
 shows  Him  in  His  works,  His  providence, 
 and  His  grace ;  it  opens  to  view  the  path 
 of  peace  which  has  been  so  long  lost ;  it 
 presents  the  model  and  the  promises  of 
 holiness;  displays  the  connection  between 
 the  present  state  of  probation  and  eternity  ; 
 it  plays  round  the  darkness  of  the  tomb, 
 and  illuminates  the  mansion  of  the  grave 
 with  hope  of  a  resurrection ;  it  makes  the 
 future  start  to  sight,  and  is  both  "  the  sub- 
 stance of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence 
 of  things  not  seen." 
 
 But  it  is  called  "light"  for  another 
 reason.  It  is  life  and  health  to  the  world ; 
 it  shows  us  "  the  Sun  of  Righteousness," 
 rising  with  "  healing  in  his  wings."  The 
 comparison  is  made  to  the  parent  bird, 
 wai'ming  her  young  to  life,  and  giving 
 health  and  strength  by  brooding  over  them. 
 Such  is  the  sun  to  nature.  It  warms  to 
 life,  purges  the  atmosphere  of  its  vapours, 
 and  renews  the  health  of  the  world.  Such 
 is  the  light  of  the  Gospel.  Where  it  pre- 
 vails, spiritual  life   is  inspired,  and   the 
 
 moral  disorders  of  the  soul  give  place  to 
 health  and  vigour.  R.  Watson. 
 
 GOSPEL— Love  in  the. 
 
 Most  medicines  for  the  body  are  of  a 
 compound  nature,  with  one  ingredient 
 strongest,  so  the  Gospel  is  a  compound  of 
 Divine  elements,  but  the  chief  and  leading 
 one  is — Love.  The  atmosphere  is  some- 
 times terrible  with  thunder  and  riven  with 
 lightning,  impregnated  with  pestilence 
 and  charged  with  destruction;  but  it  is 
 generally  and  chiefly  a  means  of  health, 
 filled  with  beautiful  sounds,  fragrant  with 
 sweetest  odours)  hung  with  golden  drapery, 
 the  pathway  of  sunbeams,  the  womb  of  re- 
 freshing showers,  the  source  of  sparkling 
 crystal  dew,  the  parent  of  harvests,  and 
 the  fountain  of  earthly  life;  so  is  the  Gos- 
 pel of  the  blessed  God.  Br.  Guthrie, 
 
 GOSPEL— Morality  of  the. 
 
 There  is  not  a  book  on  earth  so  favorable 
 to  all  the  kind,  and  all  the  sublime  afi'ec- 
 tions,  or  so  unfriendly  to  hatred  and  per- 
 secution— to  tyranny,  injustice,  and  every 
 sort  of  malevolence  as  the  GosPBL.  It 
 breathes  nothing  throughout  but  mercy, 
 benevolence,  and  peace.  Such  of  the  doc- 
 trines of  the  Gospel  as  are  level  to  human 
 cai)acity,  appear  to  be  agreeable  to  the 
 purest  "truth  and  soundest  morality. 
 
 Reattie. 
 
 GOSPEL— Objections  to  the. 
 
 All  objections,  when  considered  and  an- 
 swered, turn  out  to  the  advantage  of  the 
 Gospel,  which  resembles  a  fine  country  in 
 the  spring  season,  when  the  very  hedges 
 are  in  bloom,  and  every  thorn  produces  a 
 flower.  £p.  Home, 
 
 GOSPEL— Origin  of  the. 
 
 As  the  Nile,  and  all  great  rivers,  ori- 
 ginate far  away,  above  the  plains,  the 
 fields,  the  towns,  and  the  cities  of  men, 
 high  up  on  the  solitary,  cloup-capped 
 monuments  of  nature ;  so  the  river  of  the 
 Gospel.  He  who  would  trace  its  origin, 
 must  pass  far  beyond  the  lowlands  of  hu- 
 man thoughts  and  doings.  He  must  travel 
 on  higher  than  the  lofty  sources  of  the 
 St.  Lawrence,  the  Mississippi,  the  Amazon, 
 the  Nile.  He  must  ascend  higher  than  all 
 mountains,  all  stars,  all  suns,  all  systems. 
 Up  there  in  the  grand  heaven  of  heavens, 
 he  shall  find  a  Guide  who  will  lead  him  to 
 the  magnifient  throne  of  the  universe; 
 and  thence  shall  he  see  the  pure  river  of 
 the  water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  origi- 
 nating and  flowing  down  to  the  moral 
 wastes  and  wilds  of  this  fallen  world. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 GOSPEL— Origin  and  Glory  of  the. 
 
 As  to  its  origin  and  glory,  the  Gospel 
 
GOSPEL. 
 
 maybe  compared  to  an  anf^el  "standing 
 in  the  sun ;"  as  to  the  territorial  range  of 
 its  commission,  it  may  be  compared  to 
 "an  angel  Hying  in  the  midst  of  heaven;" 
 as  to  the  gracious  mysteries  of  salvation, 
 to  which  it  points,  it  may  be  compared  to 
 the  angels  looking  into  the  ark  of  the 
 Covenant ;  as  to  the  pure  and  holy  worship 
 which  it  enjoins,  and  over  which  it  pre- 
 sides, it  may  be  compared  to  the  angel 
 standing  beside  the  altar  of  incense ;  as  to 
 the  hopes  and  inspirations  which  it  war- 
 rants and  sustains,  it  may  be  compared  to 
 an  angel  at  heaven's  gate,  saying  to  ns, 
 ooor  dusty  wayfarers,  "  Come  up  hither." 
 l3ut  looking  at  the  relations  of  the  Gospel 
 ^o  men  in  the  business  of  everyday  life,  we 
 iaay  regard  it  still  as  an  angel  (losing  no- 
 Hiing  of  its  ethereal  beauty  and  celestial 
 'brightness) ;  but  then,  it  is  an  angel  full 
 Af  condescension  and  brotherly  companion- 
 'hip ;  an  angel  mingling  with  us,  and 
 talking  to  us— helping,  and  guiding,  and 
 comforting  us;  an  angel,  recognising  our 
 earthly  wants,  and  sympathising  with  us 
 in  our  earthly  trials,  like  the  angel  who 
 came  to  Abraham  under  the  trees  of  Mamre, 
 and  to  Lot  in  his  house  at  Sodom  ;  like  the 
 angel  who  appeared  to  Oi'uan  while  he  was 
 threshing  wheat ;  like  the  angel  who  ap- 
 peared to  Zechariah  in  the  shop  of  the 
 four  carpenters ;  like  the  angel  who  touched 
 Elijah  asleep,  and  showed  him  a  "cake 
 baken  on  the  coals,  and  a  cruse  of  water  at 
 his  head;"  and  like  the  angel  who  came 
 to  Peter  in  prison,  and  took  off  his  chains 
 and  set  him  free !  Thus  does  the  religion 
 of  the  Bible  come  home  to  us,  and  put 
 itself  on  a  level  with  us;  entering  fully 
 into  our  temporal  circumstances,  temporal 
 necessities,  temporal  duties  and  temporal 
 trials.  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 GOSPEL— Pardon  of  the. 
 
 The  Gospel  comes  to  the  sinner  at  once, 
 with  nothing  short  of  complete  forgiveness 
 as  the  starting-point  of  all  his  efforts  to  be 
 holy.  It  does  not  say,  "Go  and  sin  no 
 more,  and  I  will  not  condemn  thee;"  it 
 says  at  once,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee ; 
 go  and  sin  no  more."  Br.  Bonar. 
 
 GOSPEL— Paying  for  the. 
 
 You  may  pay  for  the  book  in  which  the 
 Gospel  is  contained;  for  the  church  or 
 chapel  in  which  it  is  preached,  for  the 
 minister  who  preaches  it  to  you;  in  the 
 same  sense  that  you  pay  for  the  windows 
 through  which  light  shines  into  your 
 houses,  that  you  pay  for  spouts  that  con- 
 vey the  water  from  the  roof,  and  for  the 
 cistern  which  holds  it;  but  the  Gospel 
 itself,  is  as  free  as  the  light  which  shines, 
 as  the  rain  and  dew  which  fall  from  above  ; 
 as  the  air  which  you  inhale ;  and  as  every 
 other  blessing  of  God.  John  Bate. 
 
 GOSPEL— Rejecting  the. 
 
 A  young  lady  was  so  strongly  moved 
 under  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  that  she 
 often  wept.  Her  pastor  watched  her  with 
 interest,  hoping  to  see  her  brought  to 
 Christ.  After  a  time,  not  seeing  her  at 
 church,  he  inquired  concerning  her  of  her 
 mother.  That  lady  was  a  widow,  and  she 
 replied  weeping:  "Ah,  sir,  I  ferar  my 
 daughter  has  met  with  companions  who 
 are  leading  her  sadly  astray." 
 
 The  pastor  did  his  best  to  restore  the 
 girl  to  right  paths.  His  efforts  were  vain. 
 She  had  given  her  heart  to  foliy,  and  would 
 no  longer  listen  to  the  voice  of  duty. 
 
 But  her  sinful  pleasures  could  not  guard 
 her  against  the  assault  of  death.  Not 
 many  weeks  elapsed  before  this  young 
 woman,  while  busy  over  her  sew'ing,  sud- 
 denly dropped  her  needle  and  exclaimed : 
 "  Oh  !  I  am  dying  !" 
 
 The  inmates  of  the  house  placed  her  on 
 the  bed.  Looking  wildly  about  her,  she 
 said :  "  I  see  heaven  and  hell  before  me, 
 I  can't  get  to  heaven,  for  hell  is  in  the 
 WAY  !" 
 
 These  were  her  last  words.  Terrible 
 words,  were  they  not?  But  would  not 
 the  same  words  be  applicable  to  you,  O 
 impenitent  sinner,  if  you  were  on  your 
 death-bed  ?  Would  not  hell  be  in  yotjb 
 way  too  ?  Would  it  not  be  "  moved  from 
 beneath" — a  stormy  sea  of  fire— ^'' to  meet 
 you  at  your  coming  ?"  You  know  it  would. 
 Why  not  go  to  Christ,  then,  for  pardon. 
 Had  that  young  woman  obeyed  her  con- 
 science and  her  judgment,  she  would  have 
 gone  to  Christ,  when  His  word  made  her 
 heart  soft.  Would  hell  be  in  her  way  then  ? 
 Would  it  be  in  your  way  if  you  were  a. 
 pardoned  instead  of  an  impenitent  sinner  ? 
 You  know  it  would  not.  On  the  Cfmtrary, 
 you  know  that  if  you  were  a  Christian  the 
 cross  of  Jesus  would  be  a  bridge  uniting 
 your  death-bed  to  the  gate  of  the  celestial 
 city,  and  securing  you  a  safe  and  sure  pas- 
 sage from  earth  to  heaven.  Why,  then, 
 do  you  delay  ?  Why  not  repent  at  once  ? 
 Why  not  flee  to  Christ?  Why  not  end 
 the  ruinous  strife  you  are  carrying  on 
 against  God  by  ceasing  to  rebel  and  by 
 becoming  a  meek,  happy  disciple  of  Jesus  ? 
 Why  not  ?  Anon, 
 
 GOSPEL — Simplicity  of  the. 
 
 To  meet  any  mental  deficiency  in  man, 
 while  the  truth  itself  is  simple,  it  is  taught 
 in  the  Bible  under  such  simple  metaphors, 
 that  none  can  say  they  cannot  understand 
 it.  How  simple  is  the  metaphor  of  the 
 brazen  serpent,  held  up  before  the  snake- 
 bitten  Israelites,  while  they  are  commanded 
 to  look  and  live.  Who  does  not  understand 
 that  a  look  at  Christ  who  dies  in  the  stead 
 1  of  men,  will  make  them  live  ?     "  If  any 
 
400 
 
 GOSPEL— GOSPEL  DOCTRINES. 
 
 mnn  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and 
 ("nink."  VV^ho  does  not  understand  the 
 figure  of  a  fountain  flowing  in  the  streets, 
 that  every  thirsty  passer-by  may  put  his 
 lips  down  and  drink  ?  "  Behold  the  Lamb 
 of  God."  Who  does  not  understand  the 
 sacrifice  ?  Here  is  a  lamb  killed  for  the 
 sin  of  Israel,  and  so  Christ  dies  for  the  sin 
 of  those  who  believe  in  Him.  The  act  of 
 faith  is  simple,  the  object  of  faith  is  plain  ; 
 the  metaphors  make  it  clear,  and  he  is 
 without  excuse  who  does  not  understand 
 the  Gospel  of  Christ.  C.  R.  Spurgeon. 
 
 O  how  unlike  the  complex  works  of  man. 
 Heaven's  easy,  artless,  unencumbered  plan! 
 No  meretricious  graces  to  beguile, 
 No  clustering  ornaments  to  clog  the  pile  ; 
 From  ostentation  as  from  weakness  free. 
 It  stands  like  the  cerulean  arch  we  see, 
 Majestic  in  its  own  simplicity. 
 Inscrib'd  above  the  portal,  from  afar 
 Conspicuous,  as  the  brightness  of  a  star  j 
 Legible  only  by  the  light  they  give. 
 Stand  the  soul-quick'ning  words — Believe 
 and  Live  !  Cowper. 
 
 GOSPEL— StahiUty  of  the. 
 
 Like  the  treacherous  signal-boats  that 
 are  sometimes  stationed  by  the  wreckers 
 off  an  iron-bound  coast,  the  shifting  sys- 
 tems of  false  religion  are  continually 
 changing  their  places.  Like  them  they 
 attract  only  to  bewilder,  and  allure  only  to 
 destroy.  The  unwary  mariner  follows  them 
 with  a  trembling  uncertainty,  and  only 
 finds  out  where  he  is  when  he  feels  his  ill- 
 fated  vessel  crashing  into  a  thousand  frag- 
 ments on  the  beach. 
 
 But  how  different  from  these  floating 
 and  delusive  systems  is  that  unchanging 
 Gospel  of  Christ  which  stands  forth  like 
 the  towering  lighthouse  of  Eddystone,  with 
 its  beacon  blaze  streaming  far  out  over  the 
 midnight  sea  !  The  angry  waves,  through 
 many  a  long  year,  have  rolled  in,  thunder- 
 ing against  that  tower's  base.  The  winds 
 of  heaven  have  warred  fiercely  around  its 
 pinnacle  ;  the  rains  have  dashed  against 
 its  gleaming  lantern.  But  there  it  stands  , 
 It  moves  not,  it  trembles  not ;  for  it  is 
 "founded  on  a  rock."  Year  after  year 
 the  storm-stricken  mariner  looks  out  for  its 
 star-like  light  as  he  sweeps  in  through  the 
 British  Channel.  It  is  the  first  object  that 
 meets  his  eye  as  he  returns  on  his  home- 
 ward voyage:  it  is  the  last  he  beholds, 
 long  after  his  native  land  has  sunk  be- 
 neath the  evening  wave. 
 
 So  is  it  with  the  unchanging  Gospel  of 
 Christ.  While  other  systems  rise  and  fall, 
 and  pass  into  nothingness,  this  Gospel  (like 
 its  immutable  Author)  is  "the  same  yes- 
 terday, to-day,  and  for  ever."  While  other 
 false  and  flashing  lights  are  extinguished, 
 this,  the  "  true  light,"  ever  shineth. 
 
 The  Christian  goes  to  his  Bible,  and 
 finds  it  always  the  same.  The  life-giving 
 doctrines  of  the  Cross,  which  first  brought 
 peace  to  his  soul,  are  still  his  solace ;  the 
 precepts  of  the  Divine  law  are  still  his  de- 
 light. They  have  never  lost  their  ability 
 to  guide  him,  or  their  power  to  console 
 him.  Upon  this  Gospel  his  fathers  pil- 
 lowed their  dying  heads ;  upon  this  he 
 means  to  rest  in  the  trying  hour;  and  he 
 trusts  that  it  shall  be  the  precious  heritage 
 of  his  descendants  long  after  his  own  cor- 
 ruptible body  shall  have  mouldered  into 
 dust.  T.  Cuyler. 
 
 GOSPEL— Terror  in  the. 
 
 As  a  skilful  painter  fills  the  background 
 of  his  picture  with  opposite  colours,  that  he 
 might  give  a  more  prominent  view  to  the 
 chief  parts  of  his  painting  ;  so  God  has  in- 
 troduced the  ascending  smoke  of  hell's  tor- 
 ments, and  the  black  clouds  of  Sinai's  fiery 
 law  in  the  Gospel,  to  give  a  brighter  aspect 
 to  the  Cross,  which  is  the  main  scene  in  the 
 Gospel  picture ;  and  to  attract  more  pow- 
 erfully the  hearts  of  men.  John  Bate. 
 
 GOSPEL  DOCTRINES— Harmony  of. 
 
 Having  scattered  over  an  open  field  the 
 bones  of  the  human  body,  bring  an  anato- 
 mist to  the  scene.  Conduct  him  to  the 
 valley  where  Ezekiel  stood,  with  his  eye  on 
 the  skulls  and  dismembered  skeletons  of  an 
 unbaried  host.  Observe  the  man  of 
 science  how  he  fits  bone  to  bone  and  part 
 to  part,  till  irom  those  scattered  members 
 he  constructs  a  framework,  which,  apart 
 from  our  horror  at  the  eyeless  sockets  and 
 fleshless  form,  appears  perfectly,  divinely 
 beautiful.  In  hands  which  have  the  pa- 
 tience to  collect,  and  the  skill  to  arrange 
 these  materials,  how  perfectly  they  fit ! 
 bone  to  bone,  and  joint  to  joint,  till  the 
 whole  figure  rises  to  the  polished  dome, 
 and  the  dumb  skeleton  seems  to  say,  "  I  am 
 fearfully  and  wonderfully  made."  Now,  as 
 with  these  parts  of  the  human  frame,  so  is 
 it  with  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  in  so 
 far  as  they  are  intelligible  to  our  under- 
 standings. Scattered  over  the  pages  of 
 sacred  Scripture,  let  them  also  be  collected 
 and  arranged  in  systematic  order  and  how 
 beautifully  they  fit  !  doctrine  to  doctrine, 
 duty  to  duty ;  till,  all  connected  with  each 
 other,  all  members  one  of  another,  "  they 
 rise  up  into  a  form  of  perfect  symmetry, 
 and  present  that  very  system  which,  with 
 minor  differences  but  substantial  unity,  is 
 embodied  in  the  confessions,  creeds,  and 
 catechisms  of  Evangelical  Christendom."  I 
 have  said  so  far  as  they  are  intelligible  to 
 us  ;  for  it  is  ever  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that 
 while  the  Gospel  has  shallows  through 
 which  a  child  may  wade  and  walk  on  his 
 way  to  heaven,  it  has  deep,  dark,  unfa- 
 thomed  pools,  which  no  eye  can  penetrate, 
 
GOSPEL  TEUTH— GLUTTONY. 
 
 401 
 
 and  where  the  first  step  takes  a  giant  be- 
 yond his  depth.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 GOSPEL  TRUTH— Harmony  of. 
 
 Christ  did  not  commit  to  the  care  of  His 
 Church  any  one  class  of  truths  and  duties, 
 or  any  number  of  classes  of  doctrines  and 
 obligations,  but  all  of  them.  Christians 
 are,  therefore,  to  teach  all  the  doctrines, 
 and  inculcate  all  the  duties  found  in  the 
 Scriptures.  There  is  no  sectarianism  in 
 inspiration.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  the  Spirit 
 of  truth,  and  of  the  entire  body  of  truth 
 "  as  it  is  in  Jesus." 
 
 Sectarianism  divides  the  doctrine  of  the 
 Spirit  into  its  various  hues,  and  sects  and 
 parties  are  formed  by  good  men  attaching 
 themselves  to  one  class  of  colours,  whereas 
 "  the  true  light"  is  made  up  of  all  colours. 
 We  would  never  live  in  an  atmosphere  of 
 rainbows  ;  it  might  appear  more  beautiful 
 than  clear  day-light,  but  it  would  not  be  so 
 useful  for  the  world.  In  a  lens,  no  one 
 class  of  rays  gathered  into  a  focus  will 
 burn  an  object ;  this  is  done  only  by  a  con- 
 centration of  all  the  rays.  It  was  by  exhi- 
 biting the  whole  counsel  of  God,  that  Paul 
 produced  in  his  converts  the  kindlings  of 
 repentance  towards  God.  and  faith  in  our 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ.  If  the  churches  think 
 it  proper  to  put  forth  the  vivid  hues  of 
 beauty  and  splendour,  in  their  respective 
 creeds  and  theological  systems,  let  them 
 also  exhibit  them  with  all  the  blendings 
 and  softenings,  the  harmony  and  the  sym- 
 metry of  the  bow  in  the  cloud,  the  sign  of 
 peace  and  good- will  to  the  whole  earth. 
 
 JDr.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 GOSPELS— The. 
 
 The  Gospels  are  the  garden  enclosed, 
 with  its  blossomed  mounts  and  blazing  par- 
 terres, and  every  several  path  leading  up 
 to  that  Tree  of  Life  in  the  midst  of  the 
 garden,  conspicuous  from  every  corner. 
 
 Br.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 GOSPELS— Characteristics  of  the. 
 
 1.  In  regard  to  their  external  features 
 and  characteristics  : 
 
 The  point  of  view  of  the  first  Gospel  is 
 mainly  Israelitic;  of  the  second,  Gentile; 
 of  the  third,  universal ;  of  the  fourth, 
 Christian. 
 
 The  general  aspect,  and  so  to  speak, 
 physiognomy  of  the  first,  mainly  is  Orien- 
 tal ;  of  the  second  Roman  ;  of  the  third 
 Greek  ;  of  the  fourth  spirituaL 
 
 The  style  of  the  first  is  stately  and 
 rhythmical ;  of  the  second,  terse  and  pre- 
 cise ;  of  the  third  calm  and  copious  ;  of  the 
 fourth,  artless  and  colloquial. 
 
 The  most  striking  characteristic  of  the 
 first  is  symmetry;  of  the  second  com- 
 pression; of  the  thii-d,  order;  of  the 
 fdurth,  system. 
 
 The  thought  and  language  of  the  first 
 are  both  Hebraistic  ;  of  the  third,  both 
 Hellenistic ;  while  in  the  second  the 
 thought  is  often  Occidental,  though  the 
 language  is  Hebraistic  ;  and  in  the  fourth 
 the  language  is  Hellenistic,  but  the  thought 
 Hebraistic. 
 
 2.  In  respect  to  their  subject  matter  and 
 contents  : 
 
 In  the  first  Gospel  we  have  narrative ; 
 in  the  second,  memoirs;  in  the  third,  his- 
 tory ;  in  the  fourth,  dramatic  portraiture. 
 
 In  the  first  we  have  often  the  record  of 
 events  in  their  accomplishment ;  in  the 
 second,  events  in  their  detail ;  in  the  third, 
 events  in  their  connection  ;  in  the  fourth, 
 events  in  relation  to  the  teaching  springing 
 from  them. 
 
 Thus  in  the  first  we  more  often  meet 
 with  the  notice  of  impressions ;  in  the 
 second,  of  facts  ;  in  the  third,  of  motives  ; 
 in  the  fourth,  of  words  spoken. 
 
 And,  lastly,  the  record  of  the  first  is 
 mainly  collective,  and  often  antithetical ; 
 of  the  second,  graphic  and  circumstantial; 
 of  the  third,  didactic  and  reflective ;  of 
 the  fourth,  selective  and  supplemental. 
 
 3.  In  respect  to  their  portraiture  of  our 
 Lord  : 
 
 The  first  Gospel  presents  Hiii\  to  us 
 mainly  as  the  Messiah  ;  the  second,  mainly 
 as  the  God-man;  the  third,  as  the  Re- 
 deemer; the  fourth,  as  the  only  begotten 
 Son  of  God.  Bp.  Ellicott. 
 
 GOSPELS— Style  of  the. 
 
 The  style  of  the  Gospels  is  admirable  in 
 a  thousand  difterent  views ;  and  in  this, 
 amongst  others,  that  we  meet  them  with 
 no  invectives,  on  the  part  of  the  his- 
 torians, against  Judas  or  Pilate,  nor  against 
 any  of  the  enemies,  or  the  very  murderers 
 of  their  Lord.  Pascal. 
 
 GLUTTONY— Evils  of. 
 
 It  is  no  slight  argument  of  the  dishonour 
 we  incur  by  gluttony,  that  nothing  is 
 more  carefully  avoided  in  a  well-bred  com- 
 pany. Nothing  would  be  thought  by  such 
 more  brutal  and  rude  than  the  discovery 
 of  any  marks  of  having  eaten  intempe- 
 rately, — of  having  exceeded  that  propor- 
 tion of  food  which  is  requisite  for  our 
 nourishment. 
 
 The  influence  that  our  food  has  upon  our 
 health,  its  tendency  to  preserve  or  impair 
 our  constitution,  is  the  measure  of  its  tem- 
 perance or  excess. 
 
 He  is  alone  temperate  who  eats  not  to 
 gratify  his  taste  but  to  preserve  his  life ; 
 who  is  the  same  at  every  table  as  his  own  ; 
 who  when  he  feasts  is  not  cloyed,  and  sees 
 all  the  delicacies  before  him  that  luxury  can 
 accumulate,  yet  preserves  a  due  abstinence 
 in  the  midst  of  them. 
 
 To  govern  our  appetite  is  necessary ;  but 
 <•  2S 
 
GRACE. 
 
 there  is  no  necessity  that  we  should  al- 
 ways mortify  it.  Life  is  no  more  to  be 
 passed  in  constant  self-denial  than  in  a 
 round  of  sensual  enjoyments.  We  should 
 endeavour  that  it  may  not  be,  at  any  time, 
 painful  to  us  to  deny  ourselves  what  is  im- 
 proper for  us ;  and,  on  that  as  well  as  other 
 accounts,  is  it  most  fitting  that  we  should 
 frequently  practise  self-denial — that  we 
 should  often  forego  what  would  delight  us. 
 But  to  do  this  continually  cannot  be  re- 
 quired of  us,  because  it  is  not  reasonable  to 
 think  that  it  should  be  our  duty  wholly  to 
 debar  ourselves  of  that  food  which  our  palate 
 is  formed  to  relish,  and  which  may  be  used 
 without  any  prejudice  to  our  virtue  or  our 
 health. 
 
 Experience  proves  that  nothing  contri- 
 butes more  to  the  preservation  of  life  than 
 temperance  ;  and  they  who  describe  the 
 golden  age,  or  the  age  of  innocence,  and 
 near  a  thousand  years  of  life,  represent  the 
 customary  food  of  it  as  the  plainest  and 
 most  simple. 
 
 The  dissuasives  from  eating  intempe- 
 rately,  that  appear  of  the  greatest  weight, 
 are  these  : 
 
 It  is  the  grossest  abuse  of  the  gifts  of 
 Providence. 
 
 It  is  the  vilest  debasement  of  ourselves. 
 
 Our  bodies  owe  to  it  the  most  painful 
 diseases,  and  generally  a  speedy  decay. 
 
 It  frequently  interrupts  the  use  of  our 
 nobler  faculties,  and  is  certain,  at  length, 
 greatly  to  enfeeble  them. 
 
 The  straits  to  which  it  often  reduces  us, 
 occasion  our  falling  into  crimes  which 
 would  otherwise  have  been  our  utter  ab- 
 horrence. Dean  Bolton. 
 
 GRACE— Activity  of. 
 
 Grace  infuseth  a  spirit  of  activity  into  a 
 person ;  grace  doth  not  lie  dormant  in  the 
 soul  J  it  is  not  a  sleepy  habit,  but  it  makes 
 a  Christian  like  a  Seraphim,  swift-winged 
 in  his  heavenly  motions  ;  grace  is  like 
 fire,  it  makes  one  burn  in  love  to  God. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 GRACE— Advanciveness  of. 
 
 Grace  comes  into  the  soul  as  the  morn- 
 ing sun  into  the  world  ;  there  is  first  a 
 dawning,  then  a  mean  light,  and,  at  last, 
 the  sun  in  his  excellent  brightness. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 GRACE— Continual. 
 
 The  acts  of  breathing  which  I  performed 
 yesterday  will  not  keep  me  alive  to-day ;  I 
 must  continue  to  breathe  afresh  every  mo- 
 ment, or  animal  life  ceases.  In  like  man- 
 ner yesterday's  grace  and  spiritual  strength 
 must  be  renewed,  and  the  Holy  Spirit 
 must  continue  to  breathe  on  my  soul,  from 
 moment  to  moment,  in  order  to  my  enjoy- 
 ing the  consolations,  and  to  my  working 
 the  works  of  God.  Toplady. 
 
 GRACE— Decline  in. 
 
 If  Satan  cannot  hinder  the  birth  of 
 graces,  then  he  labours  to  be  the  death  of 
 graces.  This  is  too  ordinary  to  see  a 
 Christian  lose  his  first  love,  and  to  fall 
 from  his  first  works.  This  love  that  was 
 formerly  an  ascending  flame,  always  spark- 
 ling up  to  heaven,  is  now  like  a  little  spark 
 almost  suffocated  with  the  earth.  The 
 godly  sorrow  that  was  once  a  swelling  tor- 
 rent, like  Jordan  overflowing  his  banks,  is 
 now  like  Jol)'s  summer  brook  which  makes 
 the  traveller  ashamed!  His  proceedings 
 against  sin,  once  furious,  like  the  march  of 
 Jehu  against  Ahab  ;  but  now,  like  Sainson, 
 he  can  sleep  in  Delilah's  lap,  while  she 
 steals  away  his  strength.  Before  he  could 
 not  give  rest  to  his  eyes,  till  God  had  given 
 rest  to  his  soul ;  but  now  he  can  lay  down 
 with  sin  in  his  bosom,  and  wounds  in  his 
 conscience.  At  first  his  zeal  did  eat  him 
 up,  but  now  his  decayings  have  eaten  up  his 
 zeal.  Anon. 
 
 GRACE— Election  of. 
 
 A  gentleman  of  Armlnian  principles 
 being  about  to  pay  a  Cornish  miner,  who 
 was  a  Calvinist,  a  certain  sum  of  money, 
 addressed  him  thus,  "  Malachi,  is  it  decreed 
 that  I  should  pay  thee  this  money  ?"  The 
 miner  promptly  replied,  "Put  it  into  my 
 hand,  and  PU  tell  you."  Is  it  not  to  be 
 wished  that  many  professors  of  religion 
 would  imitate  the  conduct  of  this  miner, 
 and  infer  their  "  election  of  grace  "  merely 
 by  their  actually  possessing  the  blessing  of 
 grace  ?  Anon. 
 
 GRACE— Falling  from. 
 
 Those  who  maintain  that  it  is  not  possi- 
 ble to  "  fall  from  grace,"  confound  persons 
 with  things,  brute  matter  with  moral 
 mind.  The  ocean  perseveres  in  its  ever- 
 lasting flux  and  reflux  by  necessity;  the 
 stars  persevere  in  their  ceaseless  revolu- 
 tionsby  necessity ;  but  does  moral  mind  thus 
 persevere  in  its  goodness  ?  The  question 
 involves  the  grossest  solecism.  Mind 
 moves  by  motion,  and  motion  is  a  self- 
 creation  :  or  more  accurately  still,  mind  is 
 self  moving ;  if  it  c^waot  pause,  retrograde, 
 and  advance,  of  itself,  it  is  not  moral  mind. 
 Where  there  is  no  possibility  of  sinning, 
 there  is  no  responsibility — no  virtue  .  .  . 
 The  Bible,  too,  in  its  admonitions  and 
 warnings,  everywhere  implies  the  possi- 
 bility of  the  most  advanced  Christian  fall- 
 ing away.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 It  is  possible  to  begin  in  the  Spirit  and 
 to  end  in  the  flesh;  it  is  possible  to  be 
 seriously  hindered ;  it  is  possible  to  come 
 short  of  the  promise  of  the  grace  of  God. 
 Clouds  sometimes  obscure  the  brightest 
 evening   and   the   sunniest  morning.     A 
 
GRACE. 
 
 403 
 
 sliitlii  atmospVipric  cliniif^e  may  trnnsform 
 an  Alpine  aacont  from  a  safe  excitement 
 into  an  imminent  peril.     The  stream 
 
 "  Which,    smiling,    left    tho     mountain's 
 brow 
 
 As  if  its  waters  none  could  sever. 
 May,  ere  it  reach  the  plain  l)elow, 
 
 JJreak  into  floods  which  part  for  ever." 
 
 It  is  thus  in  the  natural  world,  and  so  is  it 
 in  the  realm  of  grace.  There  are  number- 
 less causes,  arising  from  the  circumstances 
 of  external  things,  or  from  the  inbred  and 
 unsubdued  corrui)tion  of  our  own  traitor- 
 ous hearts,  which  may  cmlangor  the  con- 
 stancy of  the  Christian,  and  cause  his  good- 
 ness to  ho  even  as  tlic  morning  cloud  and 
 as  the  early  dew,  goodly  and  sparkling  in 
 promise,  but  by  the  fierce  heat  of  the  sun 
 very  speedily  exhaled.        W.  M.  Piinshon. 
 
 First  be  wcrands  his  faith,  aft(!r  he 
 strikes  his  love,  tlien  he  blindcth  bis  know- 
 ledge ;  then  he  slmll  have  no  delight  to 
 bear  the  word  ;  after  he  shall  grow  to  bate 
 the  preachers  of  the  word  ;  at  last  lie  shall 
 even  hate  the  word  itself.  This  is  the 
 bleeding  of  the  soul,  or  the  spiritual  con- 
 sumption, when  graces  drop  away,  as  the 
 hairs  fall  from  a  hoary  head  before  death. 
 
 Henry  Smilh. 
 GRACE— Free. 
 
 It  do(!s  not  depend  on  any  power  or 
 merit  in  man ;  no,  not  in  any  degree, 
 neither  in  whole,  nor  in  part.  It  does  not 
 in  any  wise  <lepend  cither  on  the  good 
 works,  or  righteousness  of  the  receiver; 
 not  on  anything  he  has  done,  or  anything 
 he  is.  It  does  not  depend  on  his  en- 
 deavours. It  does  not  depend  on  bis  good 
 tempers,  or  good  desires,  or  good  pur))oses 
 and  intentions.  For  all  these  flow  from 
 the  free  grace  of  God  ;  they  are  the  streams 
 only,  not  the  fountain.  Tbny  arc  tho 
 fruits  of  fr(!C  grace,  and  not  tho  root. 
 They  are  not  the  cause,  l)ut  the  effects  of 
 it.  Thus  is  His  grace  free  in  all,  that  is, 
 no  way  depending  on  any  power  or  merit 
 in  man  ;  but  on  God  alone,  who  freely  gave 
 us  His  own  Son,  and  "with  him  freely 
 givctli  us  all  tilings."  J.  Weslet/. 
 
 GRACE— Growth  in. 
 
 The  being  of  grace  must  go  before  the 
 increase  of  it ;  for  there  is  no  growth  with- 
 out lif(s  no  building  without  a  foundation. 
 Put  a  dry  stick  into  the  ground,  and  dress 
 and  water  it  as  much  as  you  will,  it  will 
 continue  the  same  till  it  rot.  Hut  set  a 
 living  plant  by  the  side  of  it,  and  tbougli 
 much  less  at  first,  yet  it  soon  b(!gins  to 
 shoot,  and  in  time  becomes  a  wide-spread- 
 ing tree.  Lavinr/lon. 
 
 A  healthy  child  grows  without  thinking 
 much  about  its  grow  th.     It  takes  its  food 
 
 and  exercise,  and  finds  that  it  is  growing 
 in  the  increase  of  its  strength,  and  its 
 cajiacity  for  exertion.  And  an  analogous 
 state  is,  I  believe,  the  healthiest  state  of 
 the  s])irltual  new-born  babe.  While  sclf-ex- 
 aminiition  rightly  managed,  is  very  useful, 
 a  morbid  desire  of  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
 ing that  we  are  improving  is  in  danger  of 
 di-awing  tlie  mind  away  from  the  constant 
 em])loyment  of  the  Tueans  of  spiritual 
 nourishment  and  health.  The  best  state 
 of  things  is  where,  in  the  healthy  vigorous 
 state  of  the  spiritual  constitution,  ready 
 for  every  good  work,  wo  have  the  evidence 
 in  ourselves  that  we  are  growing ;  and 
 when  that  is  wanting,  application  to  the 
 sincere  milk  of  the  woi-d  will  do  a  great  deal 
 more  than  poring  into  ourselves  to  find 
 either  proof  that  we  are  growing  or  not 
 growing.  J.  Brown. 
 
 In  descending  by  one  of  the  passes  of 
 the  Alps  into  tlie  lovely  valley  of  the  Saar- 
 Tien,  the  traveller  m-.iy  notice  on  the  right 
 liand  of  the  path  a  pine  tree,  growing  in 
 extraordinary  eircumstanccjs.  P^normous 
 masses  of  lioary  rock  lie  scattered  in  the 
 l)ottom  of  the  ravine.  They  have  fallen 
 from  the  crags  which  form  its  sl,ui)ondons 
 walls;  and  it  is  on  the  top  of  one  of  these, 
 a  bare,  naked  block,  that  tho  pine  tree 
 stanils.  No  dwarf,  misshapen  thing,  like 
 the  birch  or  mountain  ash  on  an  old  castle 
 wall,  where  tho  wind  or  passing  bird  bad 
 drop])cd  the  seed;  it  is  a  forest  giant,  with 
 rugged  trunk,  and  top  that  shoots  a  green 
 j)yramid  to  the  skies.  At  first  sight  ono 
 wonders  how  a  tree,  seated  on  the  summit 
 of  a  huge  stone,  raised  above  the  soil,  with 
 no  apparent  means  oi'  living,  could  live  at 
 all,  still  more  grow  with  such  vigour  as  to 
 defy  the  storms  that  sweep  the  pass,  and 
 the  severe  and  long  winters  that  reign  over 
 these  lofty  solitudes. 
 
 A  nearer  approach  explains  tho  mystery. 
 Finding  soil  enough  on  tho  summit,  where 
 lichens  had  grown  and  decayed,  to  sus- 
 tain its  early  age,  it  had  thrown  out  roots 
 which,  while  the  top  stretched  itself  up  to 
 the  liglit,  lowered  themselves  down  to  tho 
 nakeii  stone,  feeling  for  the  earth  and  food. 
 Touching  the  ground  at  length,  they  buried 
 themselves  in  it,  to  draw  nourishment  from 
 its  unseen  but  inexhaustible  8upi)lies,  to 
 feed  the  feeble  sapling  into  a  giant  tree. 
 So,  we  thought,  as  we  stood  looking  on 
 this  natural  wonder,  the  believer  grows. 
 Tempest-tossed  by  many  storms,  but,  like 
 the  j)ine  tree,  with  its  gnarled  roots  grown 
 into  mighty  cables,  firmly  moored  to  tho 
 I'ock  of  Ages,  he  also  raises  his  head  to 
 the  skies,  and  through  his  prayers  draws 
 spiritual  nourishment  and  growth  in  grace 
 from  the  inexhaustible  supplies  which  lio 
 hidden  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  are  provided 
 for  all  such  as  love  him.     Often  placed  iu 
 
404 
 
 GRACE. 
 
 circumstances  not  less  unfavornble  to  his 
 growth  tlian  that  naked  stone  to  the 
 growth  of  the  pine  perched  on  its  summit, 
 his  prayers,  like  the  roots  that  descended 
 to  the  soil,  and,  penetrating  it,  brought  up 
 its  riches  to  feed  the  tree,  form  a  living 
 communication  between  him  and  God. 
 Thus  his  life  is  sustained ;  thus  he  grows 
 in  grace,  green  and  fruitful  where  others 
 wither,  and  living  where  others  die. 
 
 Dr.  Gutlirie, 
 GRACE— Invincibility  of. 
 
 Divine  grace,  even  in  the  heart  of  weak 
 and  sinful  man,  is  an  invincible  thing. 
 Drown  it  in  the  waters  of  adversity,  it 
 rises  more  beautiful,  as  not  being  drowned 
 indeed,  but  only  washed ;  throw  it  into 
 the  furnace  of  fiery  trials,  it  comes  out 
 purer,  and  loses  nothing  but  the  dross, 
 which  our  corrupt  nature  mixes  with  it. 
 
 Leighton. 
 GRACE — No  Licentiousness  in. 
 
 Certainly  to  argue  from  gospel  mercy  to 
 sinful  liberty,  is  the  devil's  logic.  The 
 more  a  man  lives  in  the  sight  of  gospel- 
 grace,  the  more  sin  will  be  discountenanced, 
 resisted,  hated,  and  totally  displaced.  A 
 man  may  as  truly  assert  that  the  sea  burns, 
 or  that  the  fire  cools,  or  that  the  sun 
 darkens  the  air,  as  he  may  assert  that  the 
 sight,  sense,  or  sweet  of  Gospel  grace  will 
 breed  security  or  carnality,  looseness  or 
 wickedness  in  a  gracious  heart. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 GRACE— A  Little. 
 
 A  little  grace  from  Christ  is  better  than 
 none  at  all,  just  as  a  little  money  is  better 
 than  no  money.  A  computation  has  been 
 made,  showing  how  a  single  penny  by  a 
 process  of  accumulation  in  use,  bj'  interest 
 and  compound  interest,  it  might  grow  into 
 a  sum  equal  to  the  national  debt.  Even 
 so  the  smallest  amount  of  Divine  grace,  if 
 properly  appreciated  and  used  will  increase 
 in  the  soul  until  all  the  "  fulness  of  God  " 
 is  possessed  and  enjoyed.  "  Grow  in  grace," 
 according  to  its  life  and  power,  and  you 
 shall  ultimately  come  to  perfection  and 
 heaven.  John  Bate. 
 
 GRACE— Maintenance  of. 
 
 As  grace  is  at  first  from  God,  so  it  is  con- 
 tinually from  Him,  and  is  maintained  by 
 Him,  as  much  as  light  in  the  atmosphere 
 is  all  day  long  from  the  sun,  as  well  as  at 
 first  dawning,  or  at  sun-rising. 
 
 J.  Edwards. 
 GRACE-Methods  of. 
 
 Let  us  not  think  that  the  Infinite  grace 
 has  followed  the  method  for  distributing 
 His  Gospel,  which  men  have  adopted  to 
 secure  a  supply  of  water  for  the  city  from 
 tne  neighbouring  lake.  He  has  not  me- 
 chanically laid  water-pipes  of  altar,  ritual. 
 
 and  liturgy,  to  transmit  and  difTuse  it  ia 
 unchanging  ways  to  every  soul.  His  are 
 rather  the  methods  in  His  Church,  by 
 which  the  bounteous  rain  is  distributed  and 
 stored.  It  falls  on  the  mountain  slopes; 
 it  collects  in  rills ;  it  combmes  into  streams 
 and  rivers ;  it  hides  underground,  and 
 bubbles  in  fountains.  Now  it  floods  all  its 
 channels  ;  now  it  leaves  the  old  beds  to  cut 
 new  paths  for  its  leaping  music  ;  and  it  will 
 often  burst  up  in  fresh  districts  to  gladden 
 the  ground  with  beauty.  T.  S.  King. 
 
 GRACE— Necessity  of. 
 
 1.  It  is  necessary  for  conviction  of  sin. 
 2.  For  salvation  from  sin.  3.  For  the  par- 
 don of  daily  offences.  4.  For  the  perform- 
 ance of  daily  duties.  5.  For  the  resist- 
 ance of  temptation.  6.  For  the  subduing 
 of  inbred  corruption  and  the  progress  of 
 the  soul  on  to  perfection.  7.  For  support 
 in  trouble.  8.  For  usefulness  in  the  Church. 
 9.  For  comfort  and  victory  in  a  dying  hour. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 GRACE— Operations  of. 
 
 The  grandest  operations  both  in  nature 
 and  in  grace  are  the  most  silent  and  im- 
 perceptible. The  shallow  brook  babbles 
 in  its  passage,  and  is  heard  by  everyone ; 
 but  the  coming  on  of  the  seasons  is  silent 
 and  unseen.  The  storm  rages  and  alarms ; 
 but  its  fury  is  soon  exhausted,  and  its 
 effects  are  partial  and  soon  remedied ;  but 
 the  dew,  though  gentle  and  unheard,  is 
 immense  in  quantity,  and  the  very  life  of 
 large  portions  of  the  earth.  And  these  are 
 jDictures  of  the  operations  of  grace,  in  the 
 Church  and  in  the  soul.  R.  Cecil. 
 
 The  world  is  preparing  day  by  day  for 
 the  millennium,  but  you  do  not  see  it. 
 Every  season  forms  itself  a  year  in  advance. 
 The  coming  summer  lays  out  her  work 
 during  the  autumn  and  buds  and  roots  are 
 forespoken.  Ten  million  roots  are  pump- 
 ing in  the  soil ;  Do  you  hear  them  ?  Ten 
 million  buds  are  forming  in  the  ax'ls  of 
 the  leaves;  Do  you  hear  the  sound  of 
 the  saw  or  the  hammer  ?  All  next  sum- 
 mer is  at  work  in  the  world,  but  it  is  un- 
 seen by  us ;  and  so  "  the  kingdom  of  God 
 Cometh  not  with  observation." 
 
 R.  W.Beecher. 
 
 GRACE— Progress  in. 
 
 "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining 
 light,  that  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the 
 perfect  day"  (Prov.  iv,  18).  It  is  not 
 the  glimmer  of  the  glow-worm — nor  the 
 wasting  ray  of  the  taper — but  the  grand 
 luminary  of  heaven  "  coming  out  of  his 
 chamber  and  rejoicing  as  a  strong  man  to 
 run  a  race."  And  a  very  beautiful  sight  it 
 is  to  see  a  soul  rising  out  of  darkness,  not 
 stopping  on  the  verge  of  the  horizon,  but 
 
GSACE— GODLINESS,  AND  GLOEY. 
 
 405 
 
 ascending  higher  and  higher ;  not  merely 
 beginning  its  course  and  remaining  amidst 
 fogs,  clouds,  and  mists,  but  shining  brighter 
 and  brighter  at  every  step  with  increasing 
 knowledge,  faith,  and  love.  But  is  this 
 shining  light  the  picture  of  our  path  ? 
 There  is  no  such  command  given  as,  "  Sun, 
 stand  thou  still :"  therefore  it  rebukes  a 
 stationary  profession.  It  is  a  rising  and 
 advancing,  not  a  declining,  sun  :  therefore 
 it  rebuke?  a  backsliding  state.  There  may 
 be  an  occasional  cloud,  or  even  in  some 
 cases,  as  of  David  and  Peter,  a  temporary 
 eclipse.  But  when  did  the  sun  fail  of 
 carrying  on  its  early  dawn  to  a  perfect 
 day  ?  Be  thankful,  then,  for  "  the  day  of 
 small  things,"  despise  it  not.  But  be  not 
 satisfied  with  it.  Religion  mixst  be  a 
 shining  and  a  progres'sive  light. 
 
 J.  A.  James. 
 GEACE— Qualities  of. 
 
 Grace  is  a  perpetually  flowing  fountain. 
 It  is  compared  to  water,  which  serves  to 
 cool  men  when  they  are  in  a  burning  heat ; 
 so  grace  cools  the  soul  when  it  has  been 
 even  scorched  and  burnt  up  by  the  sense  of 
 Divine  wrath  and  displeasure.  Water  is 
 cleansing,  so  is  grace.  Water  is  fructify- 
 ing; so  is  grace.  And  water  is  satisfying; 
 it  satisfies  the  thirsty,  and  so  does  grace. 
 (John  iv,  13,  14).  T.  Brooks. 
 
 GEACE— Eich  in. 
 
 One  that  is  rich  in  grace  at  all  times,  by 
 night  and  day,  continues  in  a  perfect  state, 
 free  and  pure.  .  .  .  These  degrees,  if  any 
 man  attain  to,  he  is  come  to  the  perfect 
 love  of  Christ,  and  to  the  fulness  of  the 
 
 Godhead For   when   the   soul    is 
 
 thoroughly  cleansed  from  all  its  corrupt 
 affections  and  is  united  by  ineff'able  com- 
 munion to  the  Spirit,  the  Comforter,  and  is 
 thoroughly  mixed  with  the  Spirit,  then  it 
 is  all  light,  all  eye,  all  joy,  all  rest,  all  glad- 
 ness, all  love.  As  a  stone  in  the  bottom  of 
 the  sea  is  everywhere  surroimded  by  water, 
 so  these  are  everywhere  drenched  with  the 
 Holy  Spirit,  and  made  like  unto  Christ 
 Himself.  .  .  .  Sin  is  rooted  out  by  the 
 coming  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  man  re- 
 ceives the  original  formation  of  Adam  in 
 his  purity.  Through  the  power  of  the 
 Spirit  he  comes  up  to  the  first  Adam ;  yea, 
 is  made  greater  than  he.  ...  To  those 
 who  say  that  it  is  impossible  to  attain  to 
 perfection,  and  the  final  and  complete  sub- 
 jup;ation  of  the  passions,  or  to  acquire  a 
 full  participation  of  the  good  Spirit,  we 
 must  o]ipose  the  testimony  of  the  Divine 
 Sci-iptures,  and  prove  to  them  that  they 
 are  ignorant,  and  speak  both  falsely  and 
 presumptuously,  Macarius. 
 
 GE.4.CE— Saved  by. 
 
 Mr.  McLaren,   and  Mr.  Gustart,  were 
 
 both  ministers  of  the  Tolboth  church, 
 Edinburgh.  When  Mr.  McLaren  was 
 dying,  Mr.  Gustart  paid  him  a  visit,  and 
 put  the  question  to  him :  "  What  are  you 
 doing,  brother  ?"  His  answer  was,  "  I'll 
 tell  you  what  I  am  doing,  brother;  I  am 
 gathering  together  all  my  prayers,  all  my 
 sermons,  all  my  good  deeds,  all  my  ill 
 deeds ;  and  I  am  going  to  throw  them  all 
 overboard  and  swim  to  glory  on  the  plank 
 of  Free  Grace."  J.  Whitecross. 
 
 GEACE— opposed  to  Sin. 
 
 Grace  hath  a  real  repugnancy  and  con- 
 trariety to  all  sin;  and  remember  this  once 
 for  all,  that  saving  grace  is  not  contrary  to 
 sin  because  it  is  open  and  manifest,  nor  to 
 sin  because  it  is  private  and  secret,  nor  to 
 sin  because  it  is  of  this  or  that  conse- 
 quence, but  to  sin  as  sin,  whether  public 
 or  private,  because  both  the  one  and  the 
 other  are  contrary  to  the  law  of  God,  the 
 will  of  God,  the  glory  of  God,  the  nature 
 of  God,  the  designs  of  God,  &c.  As  it  is 
 with  true  light,  though  it  be  but  a  beam, 
 yet  it  is  universally  opposite  to  all  dark- 
 ness ;  or,  as  it  is  with  heat,  though  there 
 be  but  one  degree  of  it,  yet  it  is  oi>posite 
 to  all  cold.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 GEACE— Struggling  with  Sin. 
 
 A  gracious  heart  that  is  weary  of  sin, 
 will  certainly  and  habitually  fall  a  striving 
 against  it  (Gal.  v,  17).  "  The  flesh  lusteth 
 against  the  Spirit  and  the  Spirit  against 
 the  flesh,  for  these  two  are  contrary  one  to 
 the  other."  Now  contraries  are  naturally 
 expulsive  each  of  other.  Such  twins  as  a 
 Jacob  and  an  Esau ;  such  a  pair  as  Isaac 
 and  Ishmael,  cannot  live  quietly  together 
 in  the  same  womb ;  no,  not  live  quietly 
 together  in  the  same  house,  but  there  will 
 be  a  mutual  prosecuting  and  persecuting 
 each  of  other.  Fire  and  water  may  as  well 
 agree  in  the  same  vessel,  as  grace  and  sin 
 in  the  same  heart.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 GEACE,  GODLINESS,  AND  GLOEY. 
 
 By  a  tie  as  inviolable,  as  unchangeable 
 as  God  Himself,  He  has  bound  together 
 these  three  things:  the  cradle  of  grace, 
 the  cross  of  godliness,  and  the  crown  of 
 glory.  Sooner  shall  heaven  and  earth  pass 
 away  than  this  connection  be  dissolved. 
 Yet  it  is  a  connection  which  men  are  daily 
 deluding  themselves  to  regard  as  fanciful. 
 They  proceed  upon  the  assumption  that 
 when  death  shall  have  pushed  them  over 
 the  precipice  of  time  into  the  ocean  of 
 eternity,  by  some  chance  accident  they 
 shall  be  borne  onwards  to  the  throne.  It 
 is  a  great  and  grievous  delusion,  to  dispel 
 which  we  cannot  too  frequently  urge  upon 
 your  attention  this  solemn  doctrine  of 
 God's  word,  that  the  crown  of  glory  can 
 be  reached  only  by  being  lifted  up  on  the 
 
406 
 
 GEACES— GEAVE. 
 
 cross  of  godliness ;  and  that  the  cross  of 
 godliness  is  to  be  found  nowhere  save  in 
 the  cradle  of  grace.  JS.  B.  Nichol. 
 
 GRACES— Christian. 
 
 The  Christian  graces,  are  like  perfumes, 
 the  more  they  are  pressed  by  affliction,  the 
 sweeter  they  smell ;  or  like  the  stars,  they 
 appear  best  in  the  darkness  of  trouble. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 GRACES— Cultivation  of  the. 
 
 All  our  graces  are  to  be  cultivated  to 
 the  neglect  of  none  of  them.  If  one  side 
 of  a  tree  grows,  and  the  other  does  not,  the 
 tree  acquires  a  crooked  form — is  a  mis- 
 shapen thing.  Nor  are  monsters  among 
 mankind  made  only  by  want  of  parts,  as 
 when  the  body  wants  a  limb,  or  a  face  an 
 eye,  or  a  leg  a  foot,  or  the  arm  a  hand ; 
 but  also  by  some  one  part  growing  in  ex- 
 cess of  others.  Analogous  in  its  results  to 
 this  is  the  unequal  growth  of  Christian 
 graces.  Let  fear,  for  example,  that  godly 
 fear  which  is  so  strong  a  safeguard  of  the 
 soul,  grow  out  of  due  proportion  to  faith, 
 and  the  result  is  a  gloomy,  despondent,  un- 
 happy Christian.  Or,  let  that  zeal  which 
 makes  us  like  a  flaming  fire  in  the  service 
 of  our  God,  grow  more  than  knowledge, 
 prudence,  wisdom ;  and,  like  a  machine 
 without  director  or  balance-wheel,  gene- 
 rating into  extravagance,  carries  men  away 
 into  the  regions  of  wild  fanaticism. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 GRACES— Weak. 
 
 Weak  souls,  remember  this, — as  Joseph 
 sent  chariots  to  bring  his  father  and  his 
 brethren  to  him,  so  God  would  have  your 
 weak  graces  to  be  as  chariots  to  bring  you 
 to  Himself,  who  is  the  Strengthener, 
 Cherisher,  and  Increaser  of  grace ! 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 GRATITUDE— Definition  of. 
 
 Gratitude  is  properly  a  virtue,  disposing 
 the  mind  to  an  inward  sense  and  an  out- 
 ward acknowledgment  of  a  benefit  received, 
 together  with  a  readiness  to  return  the 
 same,  or  the  like,  as  the  occasions  of  the 
 doer  of  it  shall  require,  and  the  abilities  of 
 the  receiver  extend  to.  Dr.  South. 
 
 GRATITUDE— Easy  and  Cheap. 
 
 As  gratitude  is  a  necessary,  and  a  glori- 
 ous, so  also  is  it  an  obvious,  a  cheap,  and 
 an  easy  virtue ;  so  obvious,  that  wherever 
 there  is  life  there  is  place  for  it ;  so  cheap, 
 that  the  covetous  man  may  be  gratified 
 without  expense ;  and  so  easy,  that  the 
 sluggard  may  be  so  likewise  without  labour. 
 Seneca. 
 GRATITUDE— a  Law. 
 lie  that  has  nature  in  him  must  be  grateful ; 
 'Tis  the  Creator's  primary  great  law. 
 
 That  links  the  chain  of  beings  to  each  other. 
 Joining  the  greater  to  the  lesser  nature. 
 Tying  the  weak  and  strong,  the  poor  and 
 
 powerful, 
 Subduing  men  to  brutes,  and  even  brutes 
 
 to  men.  Madan. 
 
 GRATITUDE— Memorial  of. 
 
 A  very  poor  and  aged  man,  busied  in 
 planting  and  grafting  an  apple-tree,  was 
 rudely  interrupted  by  this  interrogation : 
 "  Why  do  you  plant  trees,  who  f  annot  hope 
 to  eat  the  fruit  of  them  ?"  He  raised  him- 
 self up,  and  leaning  upon  his  spade,  replied, 
 "  Some  one  planted  trees  for  me  before  I 
 was  born,  and  I  have  eaten  the  fruit.  I 
 now  plant  for  others  that  the  memorial  of 
 my  gratitude  may  exist  when  I  am  dead 
 and  gone."  Anon. 
 
 GRATITUDE— Nature  Teaching. 
 
 If  you  consider  the  universe  as  one  body, 
 you  shall  find  society  and  conversation  to 
 supply  the  office  of  the  blood  and  spirits ; 
 and  it  is  gratitude  that  makes  them  circu- 
 late :  look  over  the  Avhole  creation,  and 
 you  shall  see  that  the  band  or  cement  that 
 holds  together  all  the  parts  of  this  great 
 and  glorious  fabric  is  gratitude,  or  some- 
 thing like  it :  you  may  observe  it  in  all 
 the  elements ;  for  does  not  the  air  feed  the 
 flame  ?  and  does  not  the  flame  at  the  same 
 time  warm  and  enlighten  the  air  ?  Is  not 
 the  sea  always  sending  forth  as  well  as 
 taking  in  ?  And  does  not  the  earth  quit 
 scores  with  all  the  elements,  in  the  noble 
 fruits  and  productions  that  issue  from  it  ? 
 And  in  all  the  lii^ht  and  influence  that  the 
 heavens  bestow  upon  this  lower  world, 
 though  the  lower  world  cannot  equal  their 
 benefaction,  yet,  with  a  kind  of  grateful 
 return,  it  reflects  those  rays  that  it  cannot 
 recompense  ;  so  that  there  is  some  return, 
 however,  though  there  can  be  no  requital. 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 GRAVE— Christ  Conqiiers  in  the. 
 
 It  is  related  of  a  German  emperor  of  a 
 former  age,  that,  borne  about  in  his  open 
 war-chariot  completely  armed,  he  put  a 
 whole  hostile  army  to  the  rout,  even  when 
 dying.  In  the  quiet  garden  there  is  even 
 more  than  this.  It  is  true  that,  in  the 
 present  instance,  the  adversaries  act  as  if 
 they  were  the  victors,  but  inwardly  they 
 are  the  vanquished.  The  slumbering  hero 
 of  Judah  took  from  them  the  armour  of 
 careless  confidence,  and  filled  their  souls 
 with  a  cloud  of  terrific  and  oppressive 
 forebodings.  Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 GRAVE— since  Christ. 
 
 No  more  a  charnel-house,  to  fence 
 
 The  relics  of  lost  innocence, 
 
 A  vault  of  ruin  and  decay  ; 
 
 Th'  imprisoning  stone  is  roU'd  away ; 
 
GRAVE. 
 
 407 
 
 'Tis  now  a  cell,  where  atigels  use 
 To  come  and  go  with  heavenly  news. 
 And  iu  the  ears  of  mourners  say, 
 "  Come,  see  the  place  where  Jesus  lay ;" 
 'Tis  now  a  fane  where  Love  can  find 
 Christ  everywhere  embalm'd  and  shria'd ; 
 Aye  gathering  up  memorials  sweet, 
 Where'er  she  sets  her  duteous  feet. 
 
 J.  KeUe. 
 GRAVE— Comfort  at  the. 
 O  ye,  who  with  the  silent  tear 
 And  saddened  step,  assemble  here, 
 To  bear  these  cold,  these  loved  remains, 
 Where  dark  and  cheerless  silence  reigns; 
 Your  sorrows  hush,  your  griefs  dispel. 
 The  Saviour  lives — and  "  all  is  well !" 
 
 Those  ej'es,  indeed,  are  rayless  now ; 
 And  pale  that  cheek,  and  chill  that  brow ; 
 Yet  could  that  lifeless  form  declare 
 The  joys  its  soul  is  called  to  share, 
 How  would  those  lips  rejoice  to  tell, 
 "  The  Saviour  lives — '  and  all  is  well !' " 
 
 Sine. 
 GRAVE— Equality  in  the. 
 
 W^hen  Isaiah  had  said  that  "all  flesh 
 was  grass  " — as  though  he  would  correct 
 his  speech,  he  adds,  "  and  the  glory  of  it  is 
 as  the  flower  of  the  field."  As  if  he  should 
 say,  some  men  have  more  glory  than  others, 
 and  they  are  like  flowers,  the  others  are 
 like  grass — no  great  diflerence.  The 
 flower  shows  fairer,  but  grass  stands  longer. 
 One  scythe  cuts  both  down;  like  the  fat 
 sheep  and  the  lean,  that  feed  in  two  pas- 
 tures, but  are  killed  in  one  slaughter.  So, 
 though  the  great  man  lives  in  his  palace, 
 and  the  poor  man  dwells  in  his  cottage, 
 yet  both  siiall  meet  at  the  grave,  and 
 vanish  together,  Kenry  Smith. 
 
 GRAVE— First. 
 
 The  dog  which  had  watched  Abel's  flocks, 
 guarded  also  his  corpse,  protecting  it 
 against  beasts  and  birds  of  prey.  Adam 
 and  Eve  sat  beside  it  and  wept,  not  know- 
 ing what  to  do.  But  a  raven,  whose  friend 
 had  died,  said,  I  will  go  and  teach  Adam 
 what  he  must  do  with  his  son  I  It  dug 
 a  grave  and  laid  the  dead  raven  in  it. 
 When  Adam  saw  this,  he  said  to  Eve, 
 "  Let  us  do  the  same  with  our  child  !"  The 
 Lord  rewarded  the  raven,  and  no  one  is 
 therefore  allowed  to  harm  their  young ; 
 they  have  food  in  abundance,  and  their  cry 
 for  rain  is  always  heard. 
 
 A  Hebrew  Legend,  from  Kitto. 
 
 GRAVE— Rest  in  the. 
 
 The  grave  how  still,  how  tranquil !  Its 
 inmates  suff"er  no  adversity, foment  no  strife, 
 harliour  no  tear.  They  "  know  nothing." 
 "  Their  thoughts  perish."  The  rich  and  the 
 poor  meet  together,  the  proud  and  the 
 mean  are  laid  beside  each  other,  captives 
 
 are  as  bold  as  conquerors,  slaves  are  as 
 attended  as  kings,  neither  is  the  advance 
 nor  repulse,  disdain  nor  recrimination,  the 
 equality  of  mankind  here  adduces- its  proof, 
 and  the  spirit  of  levelling  here  gluts  its 
 i-age ;  without  a  distinction,  an  annoyance, 
 a  passion,  they  are  all  at  rest.  There  is 
 the  one  house  appointed  for  all  living ;  the 
 bed  on  which  all  await  their  sure,  their 
 last,  and,  it  may  be,  their  only  repose. 
 Thither  we  may  escape  from  the  din  and 
 bustle  of  the  world — its  follies  will  not 
 pursue  us,  its  excitements  will  not  agitate 
 us,  its  votaries  will  not  disturb  us.  There 
 only  can  we  be  secured  from  the  inroad  of 
 its  cares,  and  be  withdrawn  from  the  jar 
 of  its  discords.  Thither  we  may  escape 
 from  the  passions  which  consume  all 
 earthly  peace,  the  gnawing  of  envy,  the 
 canker  of  avarice,  the  sting  of  remorse,  the 
 tumult  of  vengeance,  the  pang  of  despair. 
 The  fever  which  parched  our  blood  shall 
 chill,  the  fierce  thrnbbings  of  desire  shall 
 subside,  and  the  uproar  of  contending  lusts 
 shall  settle  and  hush  into  the  quiet  of  our 
 kindred  earth.  Thither  we  may  escape 
 from  each  skiey  influence,  the  summer's 
 drought  and  winter's  cold  will  fall  un- 
 lieeded  on  our  dwelling,  spring  will  not 
 mock  by  its  budding,  nor  autumn  sadden 
 us  by  its  decay.  Thither  we  may  escape 
 from  the  keen  inflictions  of  poverty;  we 
 shall  all  of  us  have  the  apparel,  tenement, 
 pillow,  and  service  we  want.  Thither  we 
 may  escape  from  the  painful  days  and 
 wearisome  nights  appointed  to  us ;  our 
 eyes  will  not  be  held  waking,  nor  will  our 
 sleep  depart  from  us.  Thither  we  may 
 escape  from  slander  and  detraction;  their 
 rumour  will  not  taint  our  peace  uor  reach 
 our  abode.  Thither  we  may  escape  from 
 insensibility,  unkindness,  and  ingratitude; 
 there  can  be  no  colder  hearts  than  those 
 which  there  perish  in  our  bosoms,  to  beat 
 and  warm  no  more.      Br,  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 There  is  a  calm  for  those  that  weep, 
 
 A  rest  for  weary  pilgrims  found. 
 They  softly  lie,  and  sweetly  sleep. 
 
 Low  in  the  ground. 
 
 The  storm  that  wrecks  the  wintry  sky 
 No  more  disturbs  their  deep  repose, 
 Than  summer  evening's  latest  sigh 
 
 That  shuts  the  rose. 
 
 I  long  to  lay  this  painful  head 
 
 And  aching  heart  beneath  the  soil, 
 To  slumber  iu  that  dreamless  bed 
 
 From  all  my  toil. 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 
 Rest,  weary  head ! 
 Lie  down  to  slumber  in  the  peaceful  tomb  ; 
 Light  from  above  has  broken  through  its 
 gloom ; 
 
408 
 
 GRAVE— GEAVEYAED. 
 
 Here,  in  the  place  where  once  thy  Saviour 
 
 Where  He  shall  wake  thee  on  a  future  day. 
 
 Like  a  tired  child  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
 
 Rest,  sweetly  rest.        Anon. 
 
 GEAVE— Eest  beyond  the. 
 
 It  is  a  moody  thing  to  say,  "there  is 
 rest !"  Can  this  be  all  ?  It  is  a  common 
 lot.  To  all  our  race  the  grave  throws 
 open  such  dreary  refuge.  Thousands  hide 
 themselves  in  this  sanctuary,  loaded  with 
 most  direful  guilt,  pursued  with  most 
 execrated  memory.  And  is  there  no  rest 
 lo  which  the  spirit  of  the  Christian  springs? 
 Is  there  no  quiet  reserved  for  it  but  the 
 nnredeeming  sleep  of  the  guilty  dead  ? 
 Is  this  the  end  of  his  fiiith,  the  cessation 
 *f  remembrance,  the  extinction  of  con- 
 sciousness, the  destruction  of  thought  ? 
 Is  this  the  consummation  of  his  hope,  re- 
 duced to  the  clay  and  clod  ?  Shall  not  his 
 spirit,  when  his  flesh  rests  in  his  bed,  walk 
 in  its  uprightness  ?  Shall  he  not,  when  he 
 falls  asleep  in  Jesus,  awake  in  His  image  ? 
 Shall  not  he  who  died  in  the  Lord  be 
 present  with  the  Lord  ?  Oh,  beyond  that 
 dull,  that  common,  that  debasing  stupor, 
 "  there  remaineth  a  rest  for  the  people  of 
 God."  We  will  not  point  to  the  grave, 
 and  welcome,  as  our  rest,  the  defence  from 
 trouble,  and  release  from  care,  which  it 
 affords;  we  will  look  to  the  heavens  for 
 the  Peace  of  our  Sabbath,  for  the  Security 
 of  our  Refuge,  for  the  endearment  of  our 
 Home !  Dr.  E.  W.  Samilton. 
 
 GEAVES— Not  full. 
 
 Amid  those  dim  catacombs,  what  victims 
 have  descended.  The  hero,  who  has  wrested 
 the  dreadful  distinction  of  entering  hell, 
 red  from  a  thousand  victories.  Is  in  the 
 grave.  The  sage,  who  has  dared  to  say 
 that,  if  he  had  been  consulted  in  the 
 making  of  the  universe  he  had  made  it 
 better,  is  in  the  grave.  The  monarch,  who 
 has  wept  for  more  worlds  to  conquer  and 
 reign  over,  is  in  the  grave.  The  poet,  who, 
 towering  above  his  kind,  had  seemed  to 
 demand  a  contest  with  superior  intelli- 
 gences, and  sought  to  measure  his  pen 
 against  the  red  thunderbolts  of  heaven,  is 
 in  the  grave.  Where  now  the  ambition 
 of  the  first,  the  insane  presumption  of  the 
 second,  the  idle  tears  of  the  third,  the 
 idler  laurels  of  the  last  ?  All  gone,  snnk, 
 lost,  drowned  in  that  ocean  of  death,  where 
 no  one  ever  yet  broke  the  perpetual 
 silence. 
 
 But,  alas !  these  graves  are  not  yet  full. 
 In  reason's  ear — an  ear  ringing  ever  with 
 strange  and  mystic  sounds — there  is  heard 
 a  voice,  from  the  thousand  tombs  saying  : 
 "Yet  there  is  room."  The  churchyard 
 among   the   hills   has   a  voice,   and   says, 
 
 "  There  is  room  under  the  solitary  birch 
 which  waves  over  me."  The  city  cemetery 
 has  a  voice,  and  says  :  "  Crowded  as  I  am, 
 I  can  yet  open  a  corner  for  thy  dust;  yet 
 there  is  room."  The  field  of  battle  says  : 
 "  There  is  room,  I  have  earth  enough  to 
 cover  all  my  slain."  The  depths  of  the 
 ocean  says :  "  Thousands  have  gone  down 
 within  me,  nay,  one  entire  world  has  be- 
 come the  prey  of  my  waters,  still  my 
 caverns  are  not  crowded,  yet  there  is 
 room."  The  heart  of  the  earth  has  a  voice, 
 a  hollow  voice,  and  says:  "I  am  empty; 
 yet  there  is  room."  Do  not  all  the  graves 
 thus  compose  one  melancholy  chorus  and 
 say,  "  Yet  there  is  room,  room  for  thee, 
 thou  maiden  adorned  with  virtue  and  love- 
 liness ;  room  for  thee,  thou  aged  man ;  room 
 for  thee,  thou  saint,  as  surely  as  there  was 
 room  for  thy  Saviour;  room  for  thee,  thou 
 sinner,  as  surely  as  thy  kindred  before  thee 
 have  laid  themselves  and  their  iniquities 
 down  in  the  dust ;  room  for  all,  for  all 
 must  in  us  at  last  lie  down." 
 
 But  is  this  sad  cry  to  resound  for  ever  ? 
 No !  for  we  are  listening  for  a  mightier 
 voice  :  "  All  that  are  in  their  graves,"  &c. 
 
 Was  it  a  sublime  spectacle,  when,  at  the 
 cry,  Lazarus,  come  forth,  the  dead  man 
 appeared,  &c.  What  then  shall  be  said  of 
 the  coaling  forth  of  all  that  are  in  their 
 graves  ?  Q.  Gilfillan. 
 
 GEAVEYAED-God's  Acre. 
 
 I  like  that  ancient  Saxon  phrase,  which 
 calls 
 The  burial-ground  God's  Acre!     It   is 
 just ; 
 It  consecrates  each  grave  within  its  walls, 
 And  breathes  a  benison  o'er  the  sleeping 
 dust. 
 
 God's  acre!     Yes,  that  blessed  name  im- 
 parts 
 Comfort  to  those  who  in  the  grave  have 
 sown 
 The  seed  that  they  have  garnered  in  their 
 hearts. 
 Their  bread  of  life,  alas !  no  more  their 
 own. 
 
 Into  its  furrows  shall  we  all  be  cast 
 
 In  the  sure  faith  that  we  shall  rise  again 
 At  the  great  harvest,  when  the  archangel's 
 blast 
 Shall  winnow,  like  a  fan,  the  chafl^  and 
 grain. 
 
 Then  shall  the   good  stand   in   immortal 
 bloom, 
 In  the  fair  gardens  of  that  second  birth ; 
 And  each  bright  blossom  mingle  its  per- 
 fume 
 With     that    of    flowers    which    never 
 bloomed  on  earth. 
 
GRAVEYARDS— GSEAT  MEN. 
 
 4G9 
 
 With  thy  rude  ploughshare,  Death,  turn 
 up  the  sod, 
 And  spread  the  furrow  for  the  seed  we 
 sow  ; 
 This  is  the  field  and  acre  of  our  God, 
 This  is  the  place  where  human  harvests 
 grow !  Longfellow. 
 
 GRAVEYARDS— Resurrection-fields. 
 
 The  Apostle  Paul,  in  writing  to  the  Co- 
 rinthians (xv.  13),  feels  so  assured  that  our 
 hodies  will  be  raised  again,  as  to  affirm, 
 that  if  this  were  not  the  case,  Christ  Him- 
 self would  not  have  risen.  Who,  there- 
 fore, will  deny  that  graveyards  may  not 
 justly  he  termed  "  Resurrection-fields." 
 Yes ;  those  who  are  bought  with  the  blood 
 of  the  Lamb,  rest  even  in  their  graves 
 under  the  Almighty's  wing,  and  over  their 
 mouldering  remains,  a  divinely  sealed  hope 
 casts  a  radiant  and  transfiguring  light. 
 
 Br.  Krummacher. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— Characteristics  of. 
 
 All  great  men  are  characterised  by  three 
 things  :  simplicity  in  manners,  simplicity 
 in  speech,  simplicity  in  spirit.    John  Bate. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— Definitions  of. 
 
 A  great  man  is  one  who  has  done  such 
 works  as  none  other  man  had  done  before 
 him ;  who  has  in  any  way  considerably  ex- 
 alted the  standard  of  excellence  which  he 
 found  existing ;  who  has  heightened  for  us 
 our  idea  of  the  capabilities  of  our  common 
 nature.  To  see  things  hitherto  invisible 
 to  others,  and  so  to  embody  them  as  that 
 henceforth  others  shall  see  them  too — to 
 attempt  things  heretofore  impossible  to 
 others,  and  so  to  realise  them,  as  that 
 henceforth  others  shall  do  them  too — 
 either  of  those  things  is  the  token  of  a 
 great  man.  The  greatest  men  have  been 
 able  both  to  see  and  to  do— they  have  com- 
 bined in  their  characters,  equally,  insight 
 and  energy — elevation  of  mind,  and  de- 
 cision of  will.  Myers. 
 
 A  man  who  has  a  noble  cause,  and  who 
 subordinates,  and  even  sacrifices  himself  to 
 it— he  is  a  great  man.  A  man  who  does 
 his  duty  in  despite  of  all  outward  contra- 
 diction, and  who  reverences  his  conscience 
 Bo  greatly  as  that,  to  preserve  it  unharmed, 
 he  will  face  any  difficulty  and  submit  to  any 
 penalty,  he  is  a  great  man.     Dr.  Ferguson. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— Existence  of. 
 
 You  cannot  produce  the  great  man  before 
 his  time;  and  you  cannot  make  him  die 
 before  his  time ;  you  cannot  displace  nor 
 advance  him,  nor  put  him  back  ;  you  cannot 
 continue  his  existence  and  replace  him,  for 
 he  existed  only  because  he  had  his  work 
 to  do ;  he  exi-ts  no  longer,  because  there 
 is  no  longer  anything  for  him  to  do;  and 
 
 to  continue  him  is  to  continue  a  u^elosg 
 part.  Cousin. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— belong  to  Men. 
 
 Though  the  great  man  rises  above  the 
 level  of  common  humanity,  he  is  no  more 
 to  be  looked  upon  as  distinct  and  separate 
 from  the  masses  beneath  him,  than  the 
 loftiest  mountain  that  bathes  its  head  in 
 heaven,  can  be  said  to  be  independent  of 
 the  earth  from  whose  surface  it  rises  in  its 
 sublimity  and  grandeur : 
 "  Pay  not  thy  praise  to  lofty  things  alone  j 
 
 The  plains  are  everlasting  as  the  hills." 
 Dr.  Ferguson. 
 
 Just  as  the  traveller,  whom  we  see  on 
 yonder  mountain  height,  began  his  ascent 
 from  the  plain,  so  the  gi-eatest  man  of 
 whom  our  world  can  boast,  is  but  one  of 
 ourselves  standing  on  higher  ground,  and, 
 in  virtue  of  his  wider  intelligence,  his 
 nobler  thoughts,  his  loftier  character,  his 
 purer  ins])ira1:ion,  or  his  more  manly  doing, 
 claiming  the  empire  as  his  right.         Hid. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— Recreations  of. 
 
 Socrates  did  not  blush  to  play  with  the 
 children. 
 
 Asinius  Pollio  would  not  sufiier  any  busi- 
 ness to  occupy  him  beyond  a  stated  hour ; 
 and  after  that  time  he  would  not  allow 
 any  letter  to  be  opened  during  his  hour  of 
 relaxation,  that  they  might  not  be  inter- 
 rupted by  unforeseen  labours. 
 
 Tycho  Brahe  diverted  himself  with  po- 
 lishing glass  for  all  kinds  of  spectacles,  and 
 making  mathematical  instruments;  an 
 amusement  too  closely  connected  with 
 studies  to  be  deemed  as  one. 
 
 D'Andilly,  the  translator  of  '  Josephus,' 
 after  seven  or  eight  hours  of  study  every 
 day,  amused  himself  in  cultivating  trees  j 
 Barclay,  the  author  of  the  'Argenoes,'  in 
 his  leisure  hours  was  a  florist ;  Balzac 
 amused  himself  with  a  collection  of  crayon 
 portraits ;  Pereire  found  amusement  among 
 his  medals  and  antiquarian  curiosities ;  and 
 Politian  in  singhig  airs  to  his  lute. 
 
 Descartes  passed  his  afternoon  in  the 
 conversation  of  a  few  friends,  and  in  cul- 
 tivating a  little  garden  in  the  morning. 
 
 Granville  Sharp,  amid  the  severity  of 
 his  studies,  found  a  social  relaxation  in  the 
 amusement  of  a  barge  on  the  Thames, 
 which  was  well  known  to  the  circle  of  his 
 friends.  There  was  festive  hospitality 
 with  musical  delight.  It  was  resorted  to 
 by  men  of  the  most  eminent  talents  and 
 rank.  His  little  voyages  to  Putney,  Kew, 
 and  to  Richmond,  and  literary  intercourse 
 they  produced,  were  singularly  happy  ones. 
 "The  history  of  his  amusements  cannot 
 be  told  without  adding  to  the  dignity  of 
 his  character,"  observed  Mr.  Prince  Hoare. 
 
410 
 
 GREAT  MEN— GREATNESS. 
 
 in  his  very  curious  life  of  this  great  phi- 
 lanthropist. 
 
 Some  have  found  amusement  in  com- 
 posing treatises  on  odd  subjects.  Seneca 
 wrote  a  burlesque  narrative  of  Claudian's 
 death.  Pierius  Valerianus  has  written  a 
 eulogium  on  boards ;  and  we  had  a  learned 
 one  recently,  with  due  gravity  and  plea- 
 (lantry,  entitled  Euloge  de  Perreuques — a 
 eulogium  on  wigs. 
 
 Erasmus,  to  amuse  himself  when  travel- 
 ling in  a  post-chaise,  composed  his  pane- 
 gyric on  'Moria;  or.  Folly;'  which,  au- 
 thorised by  the  pun,  he  dedicated  to  Sir 
 Thomas  Moore.  Anon. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— True. 
 
 The  great  men  of  earth  are  the  shadowy 
 men,  who,  having  lived  and  died,  now  live 
 again  and  for  ever  through  their  undying 
 thoughts.  Thus  living,  though  their  foot- 
 falls are  heard  no  more,  their  voices  are 
 louder  than  the  thunder,  and  unceasing  as 
 the  flow  of  tides  or  air. 
 
 Moses  was  not  half  living  when  he  was 
 alive.  His  real  life  has  been  since  he  died. 
 The  prophets  seemed  almost  useless  in  their 
 time.  They  did  little  for  themselves  or  for 
 the  Church  of  that  day ;  but  when  you  look 
 at  the  life  they  have  lived  since,  you  shall 
 find  they  have  been  God's  pilots,  guiding 
 the  Church  through  all  perils.  From  their 
 black  bosoms  they  sent  forth  the  blast  of 
 His  lightning  and  the  roar  of  His  thunder ; 
 and  to-day,  if  the  Church  needs  rebuke  and 
 denunciation,  it  is  they  who  must  hurl  it. 
 I  could  have  killed  old  Jeremiah,  if  I  could 
 have  got  at  his  ribs;  but  I  should  like  to 
 see  the  archer  that  could  hit  him  now. 
 Martin  Luther  was  mighty  when  he  lived ; 
 but  the  shadowy  Luther  is  miglitier  than  a 
 regiment  of  fleslily  Luthers.  When  he  was 
 on  earth,  he  in  some  sense  asked  the  pope 
 leave  to  be,  and  the  emperor  and  the  elector 
 leave  to  be;  he  asked  the  stream  and  the 
 wheat  to  give  him  sustenance  for  a  day; 
 but  now  that  his  body  is  dead, — now  that 
 that  rubbish  is  out  of  the  way, — he  asks  no 
 leave  of  pope,  or  elector,  or  emperor,  but 
 is  the  monarch  of  thouglit,  and  the  noblest 
 defender  of  the  faith  to  the  end  of  time. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 GREAT  MEN— Working  Tools  of. 
 
 It  is  not  tools  that  make  the  workman, 
 but  the  trained  skill  and  perseverance  of 
 the  man  himself.  Indeed,  it  is  proverbial 
 that  the  bad  workman  never  yet  had  a 
 good  tool.  Some  one  asked  Opie  by  what 
 wonderful  process  he  mixed  his  colours. 
 "  I  mix  them  with  my  brains,  sir,"  was  his 
 reply.  It  is  the  same  with  every  workman 
 who  would  excel.  Ferguson  made  marvel- 
 lous things — such  as  his  wooden  clock  that 
 accurately  measured  the  hours — by  means 
 of  a  common  penknife,  a  tool  in  everybody's 
 
 hand ;  but  then  everybody  is  not  a  Fergu- 
 son. A  pan  of  water  and  two  thermome- 
 ters were  the  tools  by  which  Dr.  Black  dis- 
 covered latent  heat;  and  a  prism,  a  lens, 
 and  a  sheet  of  pasteboard  enabled  Newton 
 to  unfold  the  composition  of  light,  and 
 the  origin  of  colour.  An  eminent  foreign 
 savant  once  called  upon  Dr.  WoUaston,  and 
 requested  to  be  shown  over  his  laboratories, 
 in  which  science  had  been  enriched  by  so 
 many  important  discoveries  ;  when  the 
 doctor  took  him  into  a  little  study,  and, 
 pointing  to  an  old  teatray  on  the  table, 
 containing  a  few  watch-glasses,  test-papers, 
 a  small  balance,  and  a  blow-pipe,  said — 
 "Tiiere  is  all  the  laboratory  I  have!" 
 Stothard  learnt  the  art  of  combining  co- 
 lours by  closely  studying  butterflies'  wings ; 
 he  would  often  say  that  no  one  knew  what 
 he  owed  to  these  tiny  insects.  A  burnt 
 stick  and  a  barn-door  served  Wilkie  in  lieu 
 of  pencil  and  canvass.  Bewick  first  prac- 
 tised drawing  on  the  cottage-walls  of  his 
 native  village,  which  he  covered  with  his 
 sket(!hes  in  chalk  ;  and  Benjamin  West 
 made  his  first  brushes  out  of  the  cat's  tail. 
 Franklin  first  robbed  the  thunder-cloud  of 
 its  lightning  by  means  of  a  kite  made  with 
 two  cross-sticks  and  a  silk  handkerchief. 
 Watt  made  his  first  model  of  the  condens- 
 ing steam-engine  out  of  an  anatomist's  old 
 syringe.  Gittbrd  worked  his  first  problem 
 in  mathematics,  when  a  cobbler's  appren- 
 tice, upon  small  scraps  of  leather,  which  he 
 beat  smooth  for  the  purpose;  whilst  Rit- 
 tenhouse,  the  astronomer,  first  calculated 
 eclipses  on  his  plough-handle.  Anon. 
 
 GREAT  AND  SMALL. 
 
 There  is  the  infinitely  Great  Being,  whom 
 the  united  mind  of  the  universe  cannot  com- 
 prehend, because  of  His  infinity;  there  is 
 the  infinitely  small  creature  which  equally 
 baffles  the  comprehension  of  mind.  There 
 is  the  atom  too  small  for  the  microscope  to 
 discern,  and  the  world  too  distant  for  the 
 telescope  to  behold.  The  minnow  plays  in 
 a  shallow  pool,  and  leviathan  cleaves  the 
 depths  of  ocean ;  winged  insects  sport  in 
 the  sunbeam,  and  winged  angels  sing  be- 
 fore the  throne.  John  Bate. 
 
 GREATNESS— Empty. 
 
 A  person  who  had  been  up  in  a  balloon 
 was  asked,  whether  he  did  not  find  it  very 
 hot  when  be  got  so  near  to  the  sun.  This 
 is  a  vulgar  notion  of  greatness.  People 
 fancy  they  shall  get  near  the  sun,  if  they 
 can  but  discover  or  devise  some  trick  to 
 lift  them  from  the  ground.  Nor  would  it 
 be  difiicult  to  point  out  sundry  analogies 
 between  these  bladders  from  the  wind- 
 vaults  of  Eolus,  and  the  means  and  im- 
 plements by  which  men  attempt  to  raise 
 themselves.  All,  however,  that  can  be 
 effected  in  this  way  is  happily  altogether 
 
GREEDINESS— GRUMBLERS. 
 
 411 
 
 insignificant.  The  further  we  are  home 
 above  the  plain  of  common  humanity,  the 
 colder  it  grows ;  we  swell  out  till  we  are 
 nigh  to  bursting,  and  manifold  experience 
 teaches  us  tha^  our  human  strength,  like 
 that  of  Autens,  becomes  weakness  as  soon 
 as  we  are  severed  from  the  refreshing  and 
 renovating  breast  of  our  mighty  mother. 
 Hare. 
 
 GREEDINESS— Punished. 
 
 A  dog,  crossing  a  little  rivulet  with  a 
 piece  of  flesh  in  his  mouth,  saw  his  own 
 shadow  represented  in  the  clear  mirror  of 
 the  limpid  stream ;  and  believing  it  to  be 
 another  dog  who  was  carrying  another 
 piece  of  flesh,  he  could  not  forbear  catch- 
 ing at  it ;  but  was  so  far  from  getting 
 anything  by  his  greedy  design  that  he 
 dropt  the  piece  he  had  in  his  mouth, 
 which  immediately  sunk  to  the  bottom, 
 and  was  irrecoverably  lost. 
 
 Application. — He  that  catches  at  more 
 than  belongs  to  him,  justly  deserves  to  lose 
 what  he  has.  ~ 
 
 GRIEF— Benefit  of. 
 
 Experience  has  decided  that  the  early 
 morning  air  is  much  more  inspiring  and 
 vigorous  than  the  evening.  What  is  the 
 law  ?  Is  not  the  atmosphere,  like  all  other 
 substances  and  tissues,  spoiled  of  its  energy 
 by  the  action  of  light  and  heat  ?  Does  it 
 not,  like  the  vegetable  and  animal  king- 
 dom, require  rest  ?  After  a  night's  rest  it 
 is  recruited  and  young  again. 
 
 Joy  fatigues  the  spirit  in  the  same  way, 
 which  requires  rest  from  delight,  no  less 
 than  the  body  requires  rest  from  labour. 
 Grief,  like  niglit,  is  salutary.  It  cools 
 down  the  soul,  by  putting  out  its  feverish 
 fires ;  and  if  it  oppresses  her,  it  also  com- 
 presses her  energies.  The  load  once  gone, 
 she  will  go  forth  with  greater  buoyancy  to 
 new  pleasures.  The  niglit  of  death  is  a 
 wise  and  merciful  conclusion  to  the  excite- 
 ment of  mortal  life ;  with  a  calm,  beauti- 
 inl,  wondrous  strength,  the  regenerate 
 spirit  enters  upon  its  new  life.  J.  Pulsfurd. 
 
 GRIEF- Definition  of. 
 
 Grief  is  the  eff"ect  of  wounded  affection, 
 the  effect  ol  discovered,  but  undeserved 
 unkindness  —  it  is  the  pang  the  fond 
 mother  feels,  when  she  first  learns  that 
 the  child  of  her  fervent  prayers  and  che- 
 rished hopes,  has  become  profane  and 
 profligate.  It  is  the  throbbing  emotion 
 of  the  generous  heart,  when  thwarted  or 
 interrupted  in  the  benevolent  design  it 
 has  conceived.  Dr.  Hewlett. 
 
 GRIEF— Eflfect  of. 
 
 Guarino  Veronese,  ancestor  of  the  author 
 of  the  '  Pastor  Fido,'  having  studied  Greek 
 at  Constantinople,  brought  from  thence  on 
 
 his  return  two  cases  of  Greek  manuscripts, 
 the  fruit  of  his  indefatigable  researches ; 
 one  of  these  being  lost  at  sea,  on  the  ship- 
 wreck of  the  vessel,  the  chagrin  at  losing 
 such  a  literary  treasure,  acquired  by  so 
 much  labour,  had  the  effect  of  turning 
 the  hair  of  Guarino  gray  in  one  night. 
 
 Sismondi. 
 
 GRIEF— Rebuked. 
 
 A  prudent  and  pious  lady  observing  her 
 husband  dejected  by  some  misfortune  which 
 had  befallen  him,  to  such  a  degree  that  he 
 could  not  sleep  at  night  for  care,  pretended 
 in  the  morning  to  be  still  more  disconsolate 
 herself,  and  gave  way  to  lamentations  and 
 tears.  As  she  had  spoken  cheeringly  to 
 him  the  evening  before,  and  exhorted  him 
 to  dismiss  his  sorrow,  he  was  astonished, 
 and  asked  the  cause  of  her  sudden  grief. 
 Hesitating  a  little,  she  replied  that  she  had 
 been  dieaming,  and  that  it  seemed  to  her 
 that  a  messenger  had  come  from  heaven, 
 and  had  brought  the  news  that  God 
 was  dead,  and  that  all  the  angels  were 
 weeping.  "  Foolish  woman,"  said  the  hus- 
 band, "  you  know  right  well  that  God  can- 
 not die!"  "Indeed,"  replied  the  wife; 
 "  and  if  that  be  so  certain,  how  comes  it 
 that  you  are  now  indulging  your  sorrow 
 as  immoderately  as  if  He  really  did  no 
 longer  exist,  or,  at  least,  as  if  He  were 
 unable  either  to  set  measure  and  bounds 
 to  our  affliction,  or  mitigate  its  severity, 
 or  convert  it  into  a  blesj^ing  ?  My  dear 
 husband,  learn  to  trust  Him,  and  to  sor- 
 row like  a  Christian.  Think  of  the  old 
 proverb — 
 
 '  What  need  to  grieve, 
 If  God  still  live.'  "  GotthoJd. 
 
 GRIEF— Vicissitude  of. 
 
 Grief  is  a  fiower  as  delicate  and  prompt 
 to  fade  as  happiness.  Still  it  does  not 
 wholly  die.  Like  the  magic  rose,  dried, 
 and  unrecognisable,  a  warm  air  breathed 
 on  it  will  suffice  to  renew  its  bloom. 
 
 Madame  De  Gasparin. 
 
 GRUMBLERS— Characteristics  of. 
 
 If  all  the  grumblers  in  the  world  were 
 summoned  together  by  some  thundering 
 Calliope,  what  an  army  there  would  be. 
 Since  the  days  of  Xerxes,  nothing  could 
 compare  with  such  a  host.  You  will  find 
 them  everywhere  as  thick  as  the  frogs  of 
 Egypt.  JNo  trade,  (tailing,  or  profession  is 
 free  from  them.  Now  we  have^a  word  to 
 say  to  such  men,  and  we  hope  they  will 
 not  (/rumble  at  us  for  so  doing.  Let  us 
 describe  them : — Grumblers  are  usually  a 
 very  lazy  set.  Having  no  disposition  to 
 work  themselves,  they  spend  their  time  in 
 whining  and  complaining  both  about  their 
 i  own  affairs  and  those  of  their  neighbours. 
 
412 
 
 GUILT— HABIT, 
 
 Grumblers  are  usually  a  year  behind  the 
 age,  and  therefore  when  they  undertake 
 an  enterprise,  they  find  themselves  so  far 
 down  stream,  tiiat  all  the  winds  and  tides 
 of  sympathy,  so  necessary  to  success,  are 
 against  them. 
 
 Grumblers  are  usually  very  independent, 
 "  caring  nothing  for  nobody."  Determined 
 to  go  it  "  blind,"  they  find  it  a  "  wide 
 berth"  and  a  "  hard  road  to  trav^el"  where- 
 ever  their  footsteps  lead  them. 
 
 Grumblers  are  easily  scared.  They  al- 
 ways see  double.  A  lion  is  in  the  way  sure 
 — no  mistake  about  it.  There  is  always 
 "something  about  to  happen."  "Look 
 out  for  breakers,"  is  the  great  refrain  of 
 their  every  day  song. 
 
 Grumblers  have  a  most  capacious  appe- 
 tite for  favours,  as  well  as  food,  and  are 
 therefore  always  on  hand  and  "just  in 
 time  to  accept  the  gift  of  a  very  particular 
 friend."  Their  favorite  motto  is  "  small 
 favours  thankfully  received,  and  larger  ones 
 in  proportion." 
 
 Grumblers  are  always  very  jealous  of 
 "  character  and  influence  in  society,"  and 
 generally  "  quite  as  good  as  anybody." 
 They  should  therefore  be  treated  with 
 great  consideration. 
 
 Grumblers  are  usually  long-lived  in  the 
 opinions  of  their  friends,  and  should  there- 
 fore be  cured  of  their  disease  as  soon  as 
 possible.  Anon. 
 
 GUILT— Cowardice  of. 
 
 The  heaviness  and  guilt  within  my  besom 
 
 Takes  off  my  manhood.  Shakespeare. 
 
 GUILT— Defiling  and  Consuming. 
 
 Guilt  upon  the  conscience,  like  rust  upon 
 iron,  botli  defiles  and  consumes  it,  by  de- 
 grees gnawing  and  creeping  into  it ;  as 
 that  does,  till  at  length  it  has  eat  out  the 
 very  heart  and  substance  of  the  metal. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 GUILT— Degrees  in. 
 
 When  the  balance  shall  be  struck  between 
 small  sins,  so  called,  with  great  privileges, 
 in  the  one  scale — and  crying  sins  with  few 
 responsibilities,  in  the  other  scale  —  who 
 shall  say  that  infinite  justice  may  not  see 
 deeper  guilt  in  the  unkind  word,  the  un- 
 charitable suspicion,  the  selfish  act,  and 
 other  manifestations  of  an  un-Christian 
 spirit,  in  which  Christians  are  too  often 
 temiited  to  indulge,  than  in  the  more 
 glaring  departure  from  the  law  of  God  of 
 those  who  have  but  just  begun  to  hear  of  a 
 Saviour's  love,  and  to  know  anything  of  its 
 constraining  power.  Anon. 
 
 GUILT— Fears  of. 
 
 Suspicion  always  haunts  the  guilty  mind. 
 
 The  thief  doth  fear  each  bush  an  officer. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 GUILT— Fears  of. 
 
 How  is  it  with  me  when  everi/  noise  appals 
 
 me? 
 Guiltiness  will  speak,  though  tongues  were 
 
 out  of  use.  Ibid. 
 
 H. 
 HABIT— Bad. 
 
 I  know  from  experience  that  habit  can, 
 in  direct  opposition  to  even/  conviction  of 
 the  mind,  and  but  little  aided  by  the  ele- 
 ments of  temptation  (such  as  present 
 pleasure,  &c.),  induce  a  repetition  of  the 
 most  unworthy  actions.  The  mind  is  weak 
 where  it  has  once  given  way.  It  is  long 
 before  a  principle  restored  can  become  as 
 firm  as  one  that  has  never  been  moved. 
 It  is  as  in  the  case  of  a  mound  of  a  reser- 
 voir ;  if  this  mound  has  in  one  place  been 
 broken,  whatever  care  has  been  taken  to 
 make  the  repaired  part  as  strong  as  pos- 
 sible, the  probability  is  that  if  it  give  way 
 again,  it  will  be  in  that  place.  J.  Foster. 
 HABIT— in  Death. 
 
 Lord  Campbell,  in  his  '  Lives  of  the 
 Chancellors,'  says  that  Lord  Tenterden, 
 the  celebrated  judge,  expired  with  these 
 words  on  his  lips,  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury, 
 you  will  now  consider  your  verdict." 
 
 Anon. 
 HABIT— Definition  of. 
 
 Habit  is  a  power  and  ability  of  doing 
 anything,  acquired  by  frequent  repetition 
 of  the  same  action.  It  is  distinguished 
 from  custom.  Custom  respects  the  ac- 
 tion,-  habit  the  actor.  By  custom  we 
 mean  a  frequent  reiteration  of  the  same 
 act;  and  hy  habit  the  effect  that  custom 
 has  on  the  nund  or  body.  C.  Buck. 
 
 HABIT— Description  of. 
 
 Habit  may  be  illustrated  by  a  beaten 
 path ;  as  the  traveller  is  apt  to  fA\\  into 
 and  follow  this,  so  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
 ings are  likely  to  pursue  the  track  which 
 they  have  often  followed  before.  As  the 
 stream  gradually  wears  the  channel  deeper 
 in  which  it  runs,  and  thus  becomes  more 
 surely  bound  to  its  accustomed  course  :  so 
 the  current  of  the  mind  and  heart  grows 
 more  and  more  restricted  to  the  course  in 
 which  habit  has  taught  them  to  flow.  It 
 is  these  intellectual  and  moral  habits  that 
 form  many  peculiarities  of  character,  and 
 chiefly  distinguish  one  individual  from  an- 
 other. They  are,  therefore,  of  the  utmost 
 importance.  S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 HABIT— Facilities  of. 
 
 Habit  increases  our  facilities  for  work. 
 The  architect,  the  artist,  the  statesman, 
 the  author,  the  preacher — all  feel  their 
 work  more  easy  as  they  repeat  their  efforts. 
 
HABIT— HABITS. 
 
 413 
 
 What  at  first  was  difficult  and  imperfectly 
 performed,  by  habit  becomes  easy,  and  is 
 executed  with  all  the  gracefulness  of  finish. 
 And  thus,  by  habit,  our  labour  in  the 
 great  field  of  ^destiny  becomes  easier  with 
 every  progressive  stroke.         Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 HABIT— Formation  of. 
 
 Did  you  ever  watch  a  sculptor  slowly 
 fashioning  a  human  countenance  ?  It  is 
 not  moulded  at  once.  It  is  not  struck  out 
 at  a  single  beat.  It  is  painfully  and  labo- 
 riously wrought.  A  thousand  blows  rough- 
 cast it.  Ten  thousand  chisel  points  polish 
 and  perfect  it — put  in  the  fine  touches, 
 and  bring  out  the  features  and  expression. 
 It  is  the  work  of  time  ;  but  at  last  the  full 
 likeness  comes  out ;  and  stands  fixed  for 
 ever  and  unchanging  in  the  solid  uiai-ble. 
 Well" !  so  does  a  man  under  the  leadings  of 
 the  Spirit,  or  the  teachings  of  Satan,  carve 
 out  his  own  moi-al  likeness.  Every  day  he 
 adds  something  to  the  work.  A  thousand 
 arts  of  thought,  and  will,  and  deed,  shape 
 the  features  aud  expression  of  tlie  soul — • 
 habits  of  malice,  aud  uncleanness,  silently 
 mould  and  fashion  it,  till  at  length  it  wears 
 the  likeness  of  God,  or  the  image  and  su- 
 perscription of  the  evil  one.  Oxenden. 
 
 HABIT— law  of. 
 
 This  law  is  the  magistrate  of  a  man's 
 life.  It  is  not  the  pilot  directing  the 
 vessel ;  it  is  the  vessel  abandoned  to  the  force 
 of  the  current,  the  influence  of  the  tides, 
 and  the  control  of  the  winds. 
 
 Joseph  Johnson. 
 HABIT— Strength  of. 
 
 We  all  acknowledge  the  strength  of 
 habit.  Its  power  increases  with  time.  In 
 youth  it  may  seem  to  us  lil;e  the  filmy  line 
 of  the  spider ;  in  age,  like  the  fly  caught 
 in  its  toils,  we  struggle  in  vain.  "  Habit, 
 if  not  resisted,"  says  St.  Augustine,  "  be- 
 comes necessity."  The  physical  force  of 
 habit  is  thus  clearly  illustrated  by  Dr. 
 Combe,  "A  tendency  to  resume  the  same 
 mode  of  action  at  stated  times  is  peculiarly 
 the  characteristic  of  the  nervous  system  ; 
 and  on  this  account  regularity  is  of  great 
 consequence  in  exercising  the  moral  and 
 intellectual  power.  All  nervous  diseases 
 have  a  marked  tendency  to  observe  regular 
 periods,  and  the  natural  inclination  to  sleep 
 at  the  approach  of  night  is  another  in- 
 stance of  the  same  fact.  It  is  this  prin- 
 ciple of  our  nature  which  promotes  the 
 formation  of  what  are  called  habits.  If  we 
 repeat  any  kind  of  mental  effort  every  day 
 at  the  same  hour,  we  at  last  find  ourselves 
 entering  upon  it,  without  premeditation, 
 when  the  time  approaches. 
 
 Mrs,  Sigourney. 
 
 Habit   will   reconcile  us  to  everything 
 
 but  change,  and  even  to  change,  if  it  recur 
 not  too  quickly.  Milton,  therefore,  makes 
 his  hell  an  ice-house,  as  well  as  an  oven, 
 and  freezes  his  devils  at  one  period,  but 
 bakes  them  at  another.  The  late  Sir 
 George  Staunton  informed  me  that  he  had 
 visited  a  man  in  India  who  had  committed 
 a  murder,  and,  in  order  not  only  to  save 
 his  life,  but  what  was  of  much  more  conse- 
 quence, his  caste,  he  submitted  to  the 
 penalty  imposed ;  this  was,  that  he  should 
 sleep  for  seven  years  on  a  bedstead,  with- . 
 out  any  mattress,  the  whole  surface  of 
 which  was  studded  with  points  of  iron  re- 
 sembling nails,  but  not  so  sharp  as  to  pe- 
 netrate his  flesh.  Sir  George  saw  him  in 
 the  fifth  year  of  his  probation,  and  his  skin 
 was  then  like  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros,  but 
 more  callous;  at  that  time,  however,  he 
 could  sleep  comfortably  on  his  "bed  of 
 thorns,"  and  remarked,  that  at  the  expira- 
 tion of  the  term  of  his  sentence,  he  should 
 most  probably  continue  that  system  from 
 choice,  which  he  had  been  obliged  to  adopt 
 from  necessity.  C.  Colton. 
 
 HABITS— Bad. 
 
 Like  flakes  of  snow,  that  fall  unperceived 
 upon  the  earth,  the  seemingly  unimportant 
 events  of  life  succeed  one  to  another.  As 
 the  snow  gathers  together,  so  are  our 
 habits  formed.  No  single  flake  that  is 
 added  to  the  pile  produces  a  sensible 
 change ;  no  single  flake  that  is  added  to 
 the  pile  produces  a  sensible  change ;  no 
 single  action  creates,  however  it  may  ex- 
 hibit, a  man's  character ;  but  as  the  tem- 
 pesthurlsthe  avalanche  down  the  mountain 
 and  overwhelms  the  inhabitant  and  his 
 habitation,  so  passion,  acting  upon  the  ele- 
 ments of  mischief,  which  pernicious  habits 
 have  brought  together  by  imperceptible  ac- 
 cumulation, may  overthrow  the  edifice  of 
 truth  and  virtue.  Bentham. 
 
 HABITS— Good. 
 
 There  are  four  good  habits — punctuality, 
 accuracy,  steadiness,  and  despatch.  With- 
 out the  first  of  these,  time  is  wasted ; 
 without  the  second,  mistakes  the  most 
 hurtful  to  our  own  credit  and  interest,  and 
 that  of  others,  may  be  committed  ;  without 
 tlie  third  nothing  can  be  well  done ;  and 
 without  the  fourth,  opportunities  of  great 
 advantage  are  lost,  which  it  is  impossible 
 to  recall.  Anon. 
 
 HABITS— literary. 
 
 Before  Dr.  Johnson  commenced  his 
 '  Rambler,'  he  had  collected  in  a  common- 
 place book  a  variety  of  hints  for  essays  on 
 different  subjects.  "  The  same  method  of 
 accumulating  intelligence,"  says  Sir  John 
 Hawkins,  "  had  been  practised  by  Addi- 
 sim."  For  the  papers  of  the  '  Spectator,' 
 like  other  essays  which  have  suiwived  the 
 
414 
 
 HABITS— HAPPINESS. 
 
 changes  of  time  and  the  caprice  of  fashion, 
 were  simply  the  form  in  wlileh  their  author 
 chose  to  impart  to  the  world  thoughts 
 which,  for  the  most  part,  had  long  heen 
 shaping  and  clothing  themselves  with 
 words  in  his  own  mind. 
 
 The  famous  John  Hunter  used  to  say, 
 that  it  was  only  by  putting  his  thoughts 
 into  writing  that  a  man  could  tell  the  state 
 of  his  own  mind.  He  said  it  was  "  like  a 
 tradesman  taking  stock,  without  which  he 
 never  knows  either  what  he  has  or  what  he 
 wants." 
 
 Lord  Bacon  left  behind  him  notes  of  the 
 same  kind,  entitled  '  Sudden  Thoughts 
 set  down  for  Use.' 
 
 Mr.  Smiles,  in  his  excellent  work  entitled 
 '  Self-Help,'  reminds  us  that  Sir  Isaac 
 Newton  wrote  his  '  Chronology'  fifteen 
 times  over  before  he  was  satisfied  with  it, 
 and  Gibbon  wrote  out  his  memoir  nine 
 times.  Sir  M.  Hales  studied  many  years 
 at  the  rate  of  sixteen  hours  a  day,  and 
 when  wearied  with  the  study  of  law,  he 
 would  recreate  himself  with  philosophy 
 and  the  study  of  mathematics.  Hume 
 wrote  thirteen  hours  a  day  while  pre- 
 paring his  '  History  of  England.'  Mon- 
 tesquieu, speaking  of  one  part  of  his 
 writings,  said  to  a  friend,  "  You  will  read 
 it  in  a  few  hours  ;  but  I  assure  you  it  cost 
 me  so  much  labour  that  it  has  whitened 
 my  hair." 
 
 It  is  related  of  Roscoe,  that,  at  a  very 
 early  period  the  idea  had  occurred  to  him 
 of  writing  the  history  of  Lorenzo  de 
 Medici.  For  many  years  other  subjects 
 better  adapted  to  exercise  the  capacity  of 
 a  youthful  writer,  had  engaged  his  atten- 
 tion, and  prevented  him  from  prematurely 
 engaging  in  this  undertaking.  But  he 
 was  always  preparing  for  it.  While  pe- 
 rusing the  historians  of  Italy,  more  par- 
 ticularly Machiavelli  and  Ammirato,  he 
 carefully  noted  whatever  threw  any  light 
 on  the  life  or  character  of  Lorenzo ;  and 
 his  researches,  though  at  first  confined  by 
 the  narrowness  of  his  library,  gradually 
 extended,  embracing  both  contemporary 
 authorities,  and  all  those  writers  who  have 
 since  contributed  to  enrich  the  historical 
 literature  of  Italy.  Through  the  exertions 
 of  friends,  manuscript  documents  were  ob- 
 tained from  Florence ;  his  own  library,  too, 
 rapidly  increased  ;  and  his  labours,  thus 
 aided  and  rendered  easier,  pi-oceeded  with 
 pleasure  to  himself,  towards  their  com- 
 pletion. Anon. 
 
 HABITS— Various. 
 
 "  Man,"  as  one  observes,  "  is  a  bundle  of 
 habits.  There  are  habits  of  industry  at- 
 tention, vigilance,  advertency  ;  of  a  prompt 
 obedience  to  the  judgment  occurring,  or  of 
 yielding  to  the  first  impulse  of  passion  ;  of 
 apprehending,  methodising,  reasoning;  of 
 
 vanity,  melancholy,  fretfulness,  suspicion, 
 covetousness,  &c.  In  a  word,  there  is  not 
 a  quality  or  function,  either  of  body  or 
 mind,  which  does  not  feel  the  influence  of 
 this  great  law  of  animated  natui-e. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 HAPPINESS— Aiming  for. 
 Our  aim  is  happiness  ;  'tis  yours,  'tis  mine. 
 He  said  ;  'Tis  the  pursuit  of  all  that  live. 
 Yet  few  attain  it,  if  'twas  e'er  attained  ; 
 But  they  the  widest  wander  from  the  mark. 
 Who  thro'  the  flowery  paths  of  sauntering 
 
 joy 
 
 Seek  this  coy  goddess.  Arinstrong. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Attaining. 
 
 It  is  not  so  much  by  the  symmetry  of 
 what  we  attain  in  this  life  that  we  are  to 
 be  made  happy,  as  by  the  enlivening  hope 
 of  what  we  shall  reach  in  the  world  to 
 come.  While  a  man  is  stringing  a  harp, 
 he  tries  the  strings,  not  for  music,  but  for 
 construction.  When  it  is  finished  it  shall 
 be  played  for  melodies.  God  is  fashioning 
 the  human  heart  for  future  joy.  He  only 
 sounds  a  string  here  and  there  to  see  how 
 far  His  work  has  progressed. 
 
 K.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 All  men  that  have  rambled  after  happi- 
 ness have  failed ;  neither  learning,  nor 
 fame,  nor  wealth,  nor  pleasure,  taken  sepa- 
 rately or  jointly,  could  ever  give  it,  with- 
 out acting  up  to  the  height  and  dignity  of 
 human  nature,  and  getting  a  right  set  of 
 principles  for  thought  and  practice  ; 
 amongst  which  may  be  reckoned  the  love 
 of  justice,  temperance,  fortitude,  and  bene- 
 volence. Antoninus. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Definition  of. 
 
 By  happiness,  I  mean,  not  a  slight, 
 trifling  pleasure,  that  probably  begins  and 
 ends  in  the  same  hour,  but  such  a  state  of 
 well-being  as  contents  the  soul  and  gives 
 it  a  steady,  lasting  satisfaction.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Domestic. 
 
 Domestic  happiness,  thou  only  bliss 
 
 Of  paradise,  that  has  survived  the  fall ! 
 
 Though  few  now  taste  thee   unimpaired 
 
 and  pure, 
 Or,  tasting  long  enjoy  thee !  too  infirm. 
 Or  too  incautious,  to  preserve  thy  sweets 
 Unmixed  with  drops  of  bitter,  which  neglect 
 Or  temper  sheds  into  thy  crystal  cup. 
 Thou   art  the  nurse  of  virtue;   in  thine 
 
 arms 
 She  smiles,  appearing,  as  in  truth  she  is. 
 Heaven-born,  and   destined  to   the   skies 
 
 again.  Cow£er. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Everywhere. 
 True  happiness  is  to  no  spot  confined  ; 
 If  you  preserve  a  firm  and  constant  mind 
 'Tis  1-cre,  'tis  everywhere.  Anon. 
 
HAPPINESS. 
 
 415 
 
 HAPPINESS— Everywhere. 
 
 True  happiuess  had  no  localities, 
 
 No  tones  provincial,  no  peculiar  garb. 
 
 Where  Duty  went,  she  went ;  with  Justice 
 
 went. 
 And  went   with   Meekness,  Charity,  and 
 
 Love. 
 Where'er  a  tear  was  dried,  a  wounded  heart 
 Bound  up,  a  bruised  spirit  with  the  dew 
 Of  sympathy  annointed,  or  a  pang 
 Of  honest  suffering  soothed,  or  injury 
 Repeated  oft,  as  oft  by  love  forgiven ; 
 Where'er  an  evil  passion  was  subdued 
 Or  Virtue's  feeble  embers  fanned !  where'er 
 A  sin  was  heartily  abjured  and  left; 
 Where'er  a  pious  act  was  done,  or  breathed 
 A  pious  prayer,  or  wished  a  pious  wish ; 
 There  was  a  high  and  holy  place,  a  spot 
 Of  sacred  light,  a  most  religious  fane. 
 Where    Happiness,    descending,   sat    and 
 
 smiled.  Pollock. 
 
 HAPPINESS— in  God. 
 
 The  happiness  of  this  mysterious  nature 
 of  ours  is  never  to  be  found  merely  in  the 
 possession  of  God's  gifts,  the  work  of  His 
 hand,  or  the  bounties  of  His  providence. 
 The  soul  can  find  its  true  satisfaction  only 
 in  rising  beyond  the  gifts,  and  claiming  the 
 Giver  as  its  own.  When  you  covet  the 
 friendship  or  love  of  a  fellow-man,  it  does 
 not  satisfy  you  that  he  bestows  upon  yon 
 only  outward  gifts — his  money,  his  pro- 
 perty, his  books — what  cares  a  loving, 
 longing  heart  for  these  ?  Unless  the  man 
 give  you  something  more  than  these,  give 
 you  himself,  and  become  yours  by  the  bond 
 of  deepest  sympathy  and  aftection,  the  rest 
 are  but  worthless  boons.  So  is  it  in  the 
 soul's  relation  with  God.  That  after  which, 
 as  by  a  mysterious  and  inborn  affinity, 
 every  devout  spirit  yearns,  it  is  not  God's 
 gifts  and  bounties,  but  Himself.  The  wealth 
 of  worlds  would  be  to  the  heart  longing 
 after  Deity,  a  miserable  substitute  for  one 
 look  of  love  from  the  Great  Father's  eye. 
 "  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God"  is  the  language 
 in  which  Scripture  gives  expression  to  this 
 deep  want  of  our  nature,  and  points  to  the 
 ineffable  satisfaction  provided  for  it.  "  My 
 soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God." 
 **As  the  heart  panteth  after  the  water- 
 brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  Thee,  0 
 God !"  "  If  any  man  love  Me,  My  Father 
 will  love  him,  and  We  will  come  unto  him, 
 and  make  Our  abode  with  him ;"  "  I  in 
 them,  and  thou  in  Me,  that  they  may  be 
 made  perfect  in  one."  Dr.  Caird. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Inward. 
 
 If  solid  happiness  we  prize, 
 Within  our  breasts  this  jewel  lies, 
 
 And  they  are  fools  who  roam ; 
 The  world  has  nothing  to  bestow, 
 From  our  own  selves  our  joys  must  flow, 
 
 And  that  dear  hut,  our  home.     Cotton. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Inward. 
 
 Every  human  soul  has  the  germ  of  some 
 flowers  within ;  and  they  would  open,  if 
 they  could  only  find  sunshine  and  free  air 
 to  expand  it.  I  always  told  you,  that  not 
 having  enough  of  sunshine  was  what  ailed 
 the  world.  Make  people  happy,  and  there 
 will  not  be  half  the  quarrelling,  or  a  tenth 
 part  of  the  wickedness  there  is. 
 
 3£rs.  Child. 
 HAPPINESS— Revelation  of. 
 
 What  this  is,  the  Bible  alone  shows 
 clearly  and  certainly,  and  points  out  the 
 way  that  leads  to  the  attainment  of  it. 
 This  is  that  which  prevailed  with  St.  Au- 
 gustine to  study  the  Scriptures,  and  en- 
 gaged his  affections  to  them  : — "  In  Cicero 
 and  Plato,  and  other  such  writers,"  says 
 he,  "  I  meet  with  many  things  acutely 
 said,  and  things  that  excite  a  certain 
 warmth  of  emotion,  but  in  none  of  them 
 do  I  find  these  words.  Come  unto  me,  all 
 ye  that  labottr,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
 loill  give  you  rest"  (Matt,  si.  28). 
 
 S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Sensualities  not. 
 
 Ariosto,  in  one  of  his  romantic  legends, 
 tells  us  of  a  tree,  many-branched  and 
 covered  with  delectable  bunches;  but 
 whoso  shook  that  tree  to  win  the  fruit 
 found,  too  late,  that  not  fruit,  but  stones 
 of  crushing  weight  came  down  upon  his 
 head.  The  sensualities,  which  fools  call 
 pleasure,  are  such  a  tree.  They  who  seek 
 its  fruit  become  its  victims.  S,  Coley. 
 
 HAPPINESS— Views  of. 
 
 In  what  does  the  summum  honum,  the 
 supreme  good,  consist  ?  Four  difi'erent 
 opinions  on  this  question  obtained  among 
 the  ancients. 
 
 Plato  answers — "We  must  find  happi- 
 ness by  taking  an  interest  in  the  things  of 
 life ;  we  -must  love  life,  but  remember  that 
 after  death  we  shall  live  again." 
 
 Epicurus  said — "  Live ;  accept  life  with- 
 out thinking  of  ever  living  again  after 
 death." 
 
 Zeno  answers — "  We  must  take  no  in- 
 terest in  this  life ;  in  a  measure  we  must 
 make  ourselves  independent  of  life,  and 
 not  live  at  all.  We  must  become  even 
 from  the  present  a  free  power,  a  god;  we 
 must  triumph  over  fate,  emancipate  our 
 natures,  free  them  from  all  restraints,  sure 
 as  we  are  that  after  this  life  our  connection 
 with  this  world  is  for  ever  broken  off." 
 
 St.  Augustine,  the  Christian  father,  says, 
 "  Be  not  over-interested  in  this  life ;  think, 
 with  Plato,  that  it  is  only  a  state  contrary 
 to  the  original  nature  of  man,  and  like 
 Zeno,  that  this  chain  will  not  last  very 
 long,  not  reproduce  itself;  but  instead  of 
 seeking,  like  Zeno,  a  Saviour  in  yourself. 
 
416 
 
 HAPPIinSSS. 
 
 seek  him  in  God  alone,  tlie  wisclom  which 
 has  hecome  incarnate  in  Jesus  Christ  our 
 Lord."  Dr.  Raven. 
 
 HAPPINESS— not  in  the  World. 
 
 A  few  years  ago  there  was  published  in 
 Lausanne,  Switzerland,  a  pamphlet,  the 
 object  of  which  was  to  show  that  full 
 happiness  was  not  to  be  found  in  worldly 
 things.  The  following  is  a  summary  of  its 
 statements : 
 
 Eight  gentlemen,  old  friends,  enjoying  a 
 good  reputation  as  honorable  and  upright 
 men,  are  travelling  together.  While  on 
 their  excursion,  they  address  to  one  another 
 this  question:  "Are  you  happy— fully 
 happy  ?"  Each  one  of  them  speaking  from 
 the  heart,  with  frankness,  and  without  re- 
 serve ;  and  the  following  are  the  answers 
 which  they  successively  gave : 
 
 The  Banker. — I  have  acquired,  by  long 
 and  honest  endeavours,  a  large  and  brilliant 
 fortune.  All  my  wants  are  easily  satisfied 
 without  diminishing  my  capital  or  my  in- 
 come. I  fear  nothing  for  my  terresti'ial 
 future.  My  funds  are  placed  in  stocks  of 
 a  reliable  and  solid  basis.  The  poor  envy 
 my  lot,  while  the  wealthy  admire  the  suc- 
 cess of  my  operations.  I  possess  an  amiable 
 family.  My  wile  and  my  children  combme 
 to  spare  me  the  least  degree  of  trouble,  and 
 to  render  agreeable  each  day  of  my  life. 
 Nevertheless  I  am  not  happy;  no,  my 
 friends,  I  am  not  fully  happy.  There  is 
 one  thing  which  troubles  me,  which  em- 
 poisons my  joy,  and  which  casts  a  funeral 
 pall  over  the  decline  of  my  life ;  that  one 
 thing  is  the  thought  that  all  these  goods, 
 these  riches,  this  dear  family,  these  sweet 
 affections,  are  transient,  perishable,  and 
 that  very  soon  I  shall  lose  them  for  ever. 
 My  heart  is  sad  and  cast  down. 
 
 The  Colonel. — I  have  known  the  glory 
 of  arms,  and  the  intoxicating  triumphs  of 
 war.  How  has  my  heart  swelled  with 
 pride,  when,  at  the  head  of  my  soldiers,  I 
 have  prostrated  the  battalions  and  scaled 
 the  ramparts  of  the  enemy ;  or  when,  after 
 the  victory,  I  beheld  my  name  cited  with 
 honour  in  the  bulletins  of  the  commander- 
 in-chief!  It  seemed  to  me  that  no  human 
 destiny  was  more  noble  than  my  own.  But 
 now  a  terrible  sentence  re-echoes  in  my 
 ears.  One  day,  after  a  deadly  combat,  I 
 walked  over  the  field  of  battle.  Seeing  an 
 officer  weltering  in  his  blood,  I  endeavoured 
 to  lift  him  up.  "Thank  you,"  said  the 
 dying  one  in  a  languid  voice;  and  turning 
 his  head  he  continued,  "Thank  you;  but 
 it  is  too  late  !  we  must  all  die :  think  upon 
 it,  think  upon  it."  And  with  his  last  sigh 
 he  uttered  this  solemn  sentence,  "  We  must 
 all  die!"  It  has  fastened  itself  to  my 
 memory  like  an  implacable  fury,  from 
 which  there   is   no  deliverance.     I    have 
 
 some  moments  of  joy;  but,  alas!  my 
 friends,  I  am  not  fully  happy. 
 
 The  Diplomatist. — Honours  have  been 
 heaped  upon  me  in  my  long  career.  My 
 country,  to  which  I  have  rendered  some 
 service,  has  generously  recompensed  the 
 zeal  which  I  have  employed  for  its  interests 
 and  dignity.  Public  gratitude  has  met 
 me  at  every  step;  and  the  testimony  of 
 esteem  is  greater  than  I  could  have  ex- 
 pected ever  to  merit.  The  poor  have  been 
 the  object  of  my  charities.  I  have  fed 
 them,  and  clothed  them;  and  they  have 
 not  been  ungrateful.  Notwithstanding,  I 
 want  something :  I  know  not  well  what  it 
 is ;  but  my  heart  is  empty.  Often  I  feel 
 myself  inquiet,  oppressed,  discontented, 
 without  any  apparent  cause  for  sadness.  I 
 have  vague  desires  after  an  ideal  some- 
 thing which  I  cannot  reach,  and  all  my 
 honours  are  insufficient  to  cure  the  secret 
 malady  of  my  heart.  No,  my  friends,  I 
 am  not  truly  happy. 
 
 The  Poet. — In  my  youth  the  Muses  were 
 prodigal  of  their  sweetest  smiles.  I  love 
 to  pursue  my  delightful  reveries  in  the 
 cool  retirement  of  the  leafy  woods,  or  on 
 the  flowery  banks  of  the  streamlet.  I  soared 
 like  an  eagle  above  all  the  little  interests 
 and  the  frivolous  passions  of  the  world. 
 My  poetical  inspirations  were  received  with 
 universal  apjilause.  My  name  was  heard 
 in  the  most  obscure  hamlets  of  my  native 
 land;  and  the  fair  and  beautiful  in  the 
 public  places  whispered  as  I  passed,  "  It  is 
 the  poet."  Many,  very  many,  assured  me 
 that  my  glory  was  immortal.  But  what 
 is  such  an  immortality  ?  If  there  are 
 dreamers,  or  rather  fools,  who  demand 
 nothing  more,  I  leave  them  to  their  folly. 
 I  aspn-e  to  another  immortality.  The  vain 
 incense  of  men  does  not  satisfy  me.  I  look 
 at  the  final  result — at  the  only  true  reality ; 
 and,  having  no  positive  assurance  of  that 
 final  result,  gentlemen,  I  declare  to  you 
 with  candour,  I  am  not  fully  happy. 
 
 The  Man  of  the  World. — For  myself  I 
 have  not  such  bitter  complaints  to  make. 
 I  try  to  laugh  at  everything.  My  wisdom 
 consists  in  looking  on  the  bright  side  of 
 things.  It  is  true  that  I  have  sometimes 
 the  ennui,  but  what  signifies  that  ?  I  endea- 
 vour still  to  be  gay.  I  go  to  the  theatre, 
 to  balls,  to  concerts,  and  to  all  sorts  of 
 amusements  which  I  find.  The  best  phi- 
 losophy is  to  amuse  one's  self  as  much  as 
 possible.  "But,"  demanded  the  diploma- 
 tist, "  when  old  age,  sickness,  adversity 
 come  upon  you,  what  will  become  of  your 
 pleasures  and  amusements  ?"  "  Then,"  re- 
 plied the  worldling,  with  evident  embarrass- 
 ment, "I  will  submit  to  my  destiny." 
 "  But,"  continued  the  diplomatist,  '•  in 
 this  uncertainty  are  you  fully  happy  ?" 
 "  No,"  replied  the  gentleman  of  the  world 
 in  a  deep  low  voice;    "and  if  you  abso- 
 
HARMONY-HEAEEES. 
 
 417 
 
 lutcly  wish  tliat  I  should  confess  to  you,  I 
 avow  to  you  that  I  am  not  fully  happy. 
 
 The  Old  Lawyer. — I  have  reached  the 
 age  of  threescore  years  and  ten.  Health, 
 fortune  reputation,  domestic  affections — 
 all  these  I  possess.  When  I  was  in  the 
 midst  of  business,  overwhelmed  with  con- 
 tinual occupations,  and  not  having  a  mo- 
 ment, I  sighed  after  the  time  when  I 
 might  take  repose.  "  Ah  !"  I  often  said 
 to  myself,  "  what  a  sad  life  is  that  of  the 
 advocate !  Always  processes,  always  fe- 
 verish excitement,  and  heavy  labour.  But 
 patience  and  courage !  I  will  acquire  by 
 my  economies  an  easy  fortune,  and  I  will 
 enjoy  perfect  contentment  before  the  end 
 of  my  career."  Well,  my  friends,  I  have 
 reached  the  object  of  my  desires :  no  more 
 pre-occupationsj  no  more  tangled  and 
 painful  cares.  I  have  as  much  leisure  as 
 any  one  can  wish ;  but  notwithstanding, 
 contentment  is  not  ray  heritage.  The 
 hours  seem  to  me  so  long;  when  I  have 
 read  my  books  and  newspapers  two  or 
 three  hours,  I  have  enough  of  them,  and  I 
 do  not  know  what  to  do  the  rest  of 
 the  day.  My  existence  is  monotonous, 
 withered;  and  I  should  be  telling  an  un- 
 truth in  saying  that  I  am  fully  happy. 
 
 The  Religious  Professor. — For  myself, 
 I  have  sought  my  strength  and  my  con- 
 solation in  religion.  I  believe  in  the 
 holiness  of  the  law ;  I  believe  in  the  justice 
 of  God;  I  believe  in  the  final  judgment. 
 But  my  conscience  is  not  tranquil ;  I  do 
 not  possess  the  peace  of  the  Gospel.  Death, 
 which  is  stealing  on,  fills  me  with  in- 
 quietude and  fright.  Every  day  I  read 
 my  Bible,  and  pray  with  regularity.  On 
 the  Sabbath  my  place  is  never  empty  in 
 the  house  of  God.  I  can  assure  you  that 
 I  attend  most  faithfully  to  all  the  ordi- 
 nances of  the  Church.  Nevertheless,  trouble 
 and  anguish  accompany  me  everywhere; 
 I  always  see  in  God  a  severe  and  an  angry 
 Judge;  and  the  thought  of  a])pearing  be- 
 fore His  tribunal,  with  my  innumerable 
 sins,  fills  me  with  an  insurmountable 
 anxiety.  No,  I  am  not  fully  happy;  I  am 
 not  happy  at  all. 
 
 The  Christian  Physician. — My  dear 
 friends,  your  avowals  have  caused  me  no 
 astonishment.  Tlie  Bible  and  experience 
 are  united  in  teaching  that  neither  fortune, 
 gloT-y,  honours,  genius,  nor  anything  else 
 of  this  world,  can  render  us  full  happy. 
 God  has  created  our  hearts  for  Himself; 
 and,  so  long  as  they  are  not  given  to  Him, 
 they  are  filled  with  uneasiness  and  anguish. 
 I  have  gone  through  the  same  experience 
 as  yourselves.  In  my  youth  I  adopted  the 
 principles  of  materialism,  and  notwith- 
 standing the  success  which  I  obtained  in 
 my  profession  I  tasted  no  happiness.  But 
 by  the  grace  of  God,  I  have  been  snatched 
 from    those    desolating    doctrines.      The 
 
 reading  of  the  Scriptures  showed  me  that 
 I  was  a  sinner;  and  this  conviction  was 
 my  first  step  in  the  new  way.  Since  then 
 I  have  turned  my  eyes  to  "Christ,  and 
 Him  cru(!ified  ;"  and  a  penitent  trust  in  my 
 blessed  Saviour  has  given  nie  a  peace,  a  con- 
 tentment, a  joy,  "  wliich  passeth  all  under- 
 standing." I  fear  nothing  :  I  know  the 
 crown  of  righteousness  is  reserved  for  me 
 in  the  heavens.—"  You  are  then  fully 
 happy,"  said  one  of  the  company.  "  Yes, 
 my  friend.  I  confide  in  the  love,  in  the 
 fidelity  of  God,  who  has  given  for  me  His 
 Son,  His  own  Son,  in  order  that  I  might 
 be  rendered  happy  in  this  world,  and  in 
 that  which  is  to  come."  "  You,  therefore, 
 do  not  fear  the  end"  said  the  Colonel. 
 "  No,  my  dear  brother ;  for  that  which 
 you  call  the  end  is  for  me  the  commence- 
 ment." Anon. 
 
 HARMONY— Heavenly. 
 
 The  tongue  blessing  God  without  the 
 heart  is  but  a  tinkling  cymbal ;  the  heart 
 blessing  God  without  the  tongue  is  sweet 
 but  still  music  ;  both  in  concert  make  that 
 harmony  which  fills  and  delights  heaven 
 and  earth.  Ibid. 
 
 HARMONY  AND  LOVE. 
 
 The  story  of  Amphion  sets  forth  how, 
 whatever  we  may  have  to  build,  be  it  a 
 house,  a  city,  or  a  church,  the  most  power- 
 ful of  all  powers  that  we  can  employ  in 
 building  it,  is  harmony  and  love.  Only 
 the  love  must  be  of  a  genuine,  lasting  kind, 
 not  a  spirit  of  weak  compromise,  sacrificing 
 principle  to  expedients,  and  abandoning 
 truths  for  the  sake  of  tying  a  love  knot  of 
 errors,  but  strong  from  being  in  unison 
 with  what  alone  is  true  and  lasting,  the 
 will  and  word  of  God.  Else  the  liricks  will 
 fall  out  as  quickly  as  they  have  fallen  in. 
 
 Hare, 
 HEALTH— a  Help  to  Godliness. 
 
 A  mower  with  a  good  scythe  will  do 
 more  in  one  day  than  another  that  hath  a 
 bad  one  can  do  in  two  ;  every  workman 
 knoweth  the  benefit  of  having  his  tools  in 
 order ;  and  every  traveller  knows  the 
 difference  between  a  cheerful  and  a  tired 
 horse.  And  they  that  have  tried  health 
 and  sickness  know  what  a  help  it  is  in 
 every  work  of  God,  to  have  a  healthful 
 body  and  cheerful  spirits,  and  an  alacrity 
 and  promptitude  to  obey  the  mind. 
 
 Baxter, 
 HEARERS— Fastidious. 
 
 An  influential  country  gentleman,  and 
 patron  of  a  church,  who,  in  his  way, 
 showed  great  kindness  to  a  clergyman,  was 
 hearing  the  minister  preach  on  a  subse- 
 quent Sabbath.  When  the  patron  had 
 reached  home  immediately  after  attending 
 church,  he  said,  "  Here  is  gratitude  for 
 27 
 
418 
 
 HEARERS. 
 
 you;  here  I  and  my  family  Lave  shown 
 this  man  the  greatest  kindness,  and  the 
 return  he  makes  when  he  gets  into  the 
 pulpit,  is  to  tell  us  that  we  are  great  sin- 
 ners unless  we  repent.  He  preaches  that 
 our  good  works  go  for  nothing  hefore  God. 
 This  sermon  will  do  very  well  for  a  peni- 
 tentiary, a  Newgate  ;  but  before  a  genteel 
 and  respectable  audience,  to  tell  them  that 
 they  axe  sinners,  is  the  most  extraordinary 
 >eouduct  that  I  ever  met  with." 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 HEAEERS-rCritical. 
 
 A  man  that  comes  hungry  to  his  meal, 
 feeds  heartily  on  the  meat  set  before  him, 
 not  regarding  the  metal  or  form  of  the 
 ,platter  wherein  it  is  served ;  who,  after- 
 wards when  his  stomach  is  satisfied,  begins 
 to  play  with  the  dish,  or  to  read  sentences 
 on  his  trencher.  Those  auditors  who  can 
 find  nothing  to  do  but  note  elegant  words 
 and  phrases,  or  rhetorical  colours,  or  per- 
 haps an  ill  grace  of  gesture  in  a  pithy  and 
 material  speech,  argue  themselves  full  ere 
 they  come  to  the  feast ;  and  therefore  go 
 away  with  little  pleasure,  and  no  profit. 
 
 Bp.  Rail. 
 HEARERS— Dead. 
 
 Preaching  to  some  hearers  is  like  throw- 
 ing a  ball  against  a  wall ;  all  that  is  said 
 to  them  seems  to  rebound  upon  the 
 preacher,  without  producing  any  sensible 
 effect.  It  is  like  playing  upon  a  piano 
 whose  strings  are  all  broken ;  there  is  no 
 musical  response.  How  is  this  ?_  They 
 are  dead  to  the  impressions  which  the 
 truth  is  calculated  to  produce  within  them. 
 John  Bate. 
 HEARERS— ForgetfiU. 
 
 The  only  cause  why  you  forget  so  fast  as 
 you  hear,  and  of  all  the  sermons  which  you 
 have  heard,  liave  scarce  the  substance  of 
 one  in  your  hearts,  to  comfort  or  counsel 
 you  when  you  have  need,  is  because  you 
 went  from  sermon  to  dinner,  and  never 
 thought  any  more  of  the  matter ;  as  though 
 it  were  enough  to  hear  ;  like  sieves,  which 
 hold  water  no  longer  than  they  are  in  a 
 river.  What  a  shame  is  this  to  remember 
 every  clause  in  your  lease,  and  every  point 
 in  your  father's  will;  nay,  to  remember  an 
 old  tale  so  long  as  you  live,  though  it  be 
 long  since  you  heard  it,  and  the  lessons 
 which  ye  hear  now,  will  be  gone  within 
 this  hour,  that  you  may  ask,  what  hath 
 stolen  my  sermon  from  me  ?     Henry  Smith. 
 
 HEARERS— Inattentive. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Demosthenes  that,  speaking 
 to  tlie  Athenians  on  a  very  serious  subject, 
 and  finding  them  to  be  inattentive,  he 
 paused,  and  told  them  that  he  had  some- 
 thing of  special  importance  to  relate,  which 
 he  was  anxious  that  they  should  all  hear. 
 
 Silence  being  thus  obtained,  and  every  eye 
 fixed  upon  him,  he  said  that  two  men, 
 having  bargained  for  the  hire  of  an  ass, 
 were  travelling  from  Athens  to  Megara 
 on  a  very  hot  day  and  both  of  them 
 striving  to  enjoy  the  shadow  of  the  ass, 
 one  of  them  said  that  he  hired  the  ass  and 
 the  shadow  too ;  the  other  said  that  he 
 hired  the  ass  only  and  not  the  shadow. 
 Having  made  this  grave  statement,  De- 
 mosthenes retired  ;  when  the  people 
 pressed  him  with  great  eagerness  to  re- 
 turn and  finish  his  tale.  "  0  ye  Athenians, 
 said  he,  "  will  ye  attend  to  me  when  speak- 
 ing about  the  shadow  of  an  ass ;  and  will 
 ye  not  attend  to  me  when  I  address  you 
 on  the  most  important  affairs  ?" 
 
 This  reproof  does  not  apply  exclusively 
 to  the  "  men  of  Athens."  English  people 
 are  deeply  concerned  in  it ;  and  the  minis- 
 ters of  Christ  who  are  accustomed  to  dis- 
 course upon  subjects  immensely  more  im- 
 portant than  any  that  called  forth  the  elo- 
 quence of  the  Athenian  orator,  have  reason 
 to  urge  the  same  complaint.  Many  persons 
 have  an  ear  fi)r  vanity,  but  none  for  the 
 truth ;  they  will  listen  to  folly,  but  not  to 
 the  words  of  wisdom.  To  the  things  of 
 this  world  they  will  pay  a  fixed  attention, 
 but  to  Christ  and  His  salvation  they  are 
 criminally  indifferent.  Thornton. 
 
 HEARERS— Indifferent. 
 
 All  this  and  more  than  this  you  have 
 been  told,  and  told  again,  even  till  you  are 
 weary  of  hearing  it,  and  till  you  could 
 make  the  lighter  of  it,  because  you  had  so 
 often  heard  it  ;  like  the  smith's  dog,  that 
 IS  brought  by  custom  to  sleep  under  the 
 noise  of  the  hammers,  and  when  the  sparks 
 do  fly  about  his  ears.  Baxter. 
 
 HEARERS— Motives  of. 
 
 As  there  were  wise  virgins  and  foolish 
 virgins ;  so  there  are  wise  hearers,  and 
 foolish  hearers.  Some  are  so  nice,  that  they 
 had  rather  pine  than  take  their  food  of 
 any  which  is  licensed  by  a  bishop  ;  as  if 
 Elias  should  refuse  his  food  because  a  raven 
 brought  it  to  him  and  not  an  angel;  some 
 come  unto  the  service  to  save  forfeiture, 
 and  then  they  stay  the  sermon  for  shame  ; 
 some  come  because  they  would  not  be 
 counted  atheists ;  some  come  because  they 
 would  avoid  the  name  of  papists;  some 
 come  to  please  their  friends.  One  hath  a 
 good  man  to  his  friend,  and  lest  he  should 
 offend  him,  he  frequents  the  preacher's, 
 that  his  friend  may  think  well  of  him; 
 some  come  with  their  masters  and  mis- 
 tresses for  attendance  ;  some  come  with  a 
 fame ;  they  have  heard  great  speech  of  the 
 man,  and  therefore  they  will  spend  one 
 hour  to  hear  him  once,  but  to  see  whether 
 it  be  so  as  they  say;  some  come  because 
 they  are  idle,  to  pass  the  time  they  go  to  a 
 
419 
 
 sermon,  lest  they  shonld  be  weary  of  doing 
 nothing  ;  some  come  with  their  fellows  ; 
 one  saith,  let  us  go  to  the  sermon ;  content, 
 saith  he,  and  he  goeth  for  company ;  some 
 liear  the  sound  of  a  voice  as  they  pass  by 
 the  church  and  step  in  before  they  be 
 aware;  another  hath  some  occasion  of 
 business,  and  he  appoints  a  friend  to  meet 
 him  at  such  a  sermon,  as  they  do  at  Paul's ; 
 all  these  are  accidental  hearers,  like  chil- 
 dren which  sit  in  the  market,  and  neither 
 buy  nor  sell.  But,  as  many  foxes  have 
 been  taken  when  they  came  to  take,  so 
 they  which  come  to  spy,  or  wonder,  or 
 gaze,  or  scoft",  have  changed  their  minds 
 before  they  went  home,  like  one  which 
 finds  when  he  doth  not  seek. 
 
 Menry  Smith. 
 HEAEEES— Only. 
 
 There  are  some  diseases  that  are  called 
 the  reproaches  of  physicians;  and  there  are 
 some  people  that  may  be  truly  called  the 
 reproaches  of  ministers  ;  and  those  are  they 
 who  are  great  hearers,  and  talkers,  and 
 admirers  of  ministers,  but  never  obey  the 
 doctrines  delivered  by  them.       T.  Brooks, 
 
 HilAEEES— Practical. 
 
 When  a  man  says  he  received  a,  blessing 
 under  a  sermon,  I  beg  to  inquire  what 
 effect  it  has  produced.  The  Koman  soldiers 
 proved  the  effect  produced  by  Antony's 
 sermon,  when  they  flew  to  avenge  the 
 death  of  Cajsar.  J.  Newton. 
 
 A  poor  woman  went  to  hear  a  sermon, 
 wherein,  among  other  evil  practices,  the 
 use  of  dishonest  weights  and  measures  was 
 exposed.  With  this  discourse  she  was 
 much  affected.  The  next  day,  when  the 
 minister,  according  to  his  custom,  went 
 among  his  hearers,  and  called  upon  the 
 woman,  he  took  occasion  to  ask  her  what 
 she  remembered  of  his  sermon.  The  poor 
 woman  complained  much  of  her  bad  me- 
 mory, and  said  she  had  forgotten  almost  all 
 that  he  delivered.  "  But  one  thing,"  said 
 she,  "  I  remembered ;  I  remembered  to 
 burn  my  bushel."  A  doer  of  the  word 
 cannot  be  a  forgetful  hearer.      K.  Arvine. 
 
 HEAEEES— Presumptuous. 
 
 It  is  but  too  usual  to  see  some  persons, 
 who  at  church  feel  their  consciences 
 searched  and  lanced,  and  the  word  even 
 lashing  their  sin  over  the  face  ;  yet  pre- 
 sently, like  Samson,  after  go  out  and  shake 
 themselves  a  little,  and  forthwith  become 
 the  very  same  men  that  they  were  before. 
 They  are  as  ready  for  their  cups,  for  their 
 rotten,  obscene,  and  profane  discourse  ;  and 
 in  a  word,  for  all  kind  of  lewdness ;  as  if 
 the  preacher  had  not  reproved  their  vice, 
 but  produced  new  arguments  to  encourage 
 it;  and  exhorted  them  to  persevere  dili- 
 
 gently in  those  blessed  paths,  in  which 
 they  are  sure  to  have  the  devil  for  their 
 leader,  and  their  lust  for  their  companion. 
 Br.  South. 
 HEAEEES— Sleepy. 
 
 The  late  Eev.  Mr.  More,  minister  of  the 
 Gospel,  Selkirk,  while  preaching  from  these 
 words  of  Moses,  "  I  beseech  Thee,  show  me 
 Thy  glory,"  observing  many  of  his  hearers 
 fast  asleep,  made  a  pause,  on  which  they 
 awoke.  He  then  in  a  very  solemn  manner 
 addressed  them  to  the  following  effect : — 
 "  Do  you  think,  my  friends,  had  Moses 
 been  asieep,  while  the  glory  of  God  passed 
 by  him,  that  he  would  have  seen  it  ?  The 
 glory  of  God,  in  the  dispensation  of  the 
 Gospel,  has  just  been  passing  by  you,  and 
 yet  you  were  all  asleep."  It  need  not  be 
 added  that,  during  that  day  at  least,  he 
 had  a  more  attentive  audience. 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 
 A  servant,  coming  from  church,  praiseth 
 the  sermon  to  his  master.     He  asks  him, — 
 
 "  What  was  the  text  ?" 
 
 "  Nay,",  quoth  the  servant,  "  it  was  be- 
 gun before  I  came  in." 
 
 "  What  was  then  his  conclusion  ?" 
 
 lie  answered, — 
 
 "  I  came  out  before  it  was  done." 
 
 "  But  what  said  the  preacher  in  the 
 midst  ?" 
 
 "  Indeed  I  was  asleep  in  the  midst." 
 
 Thus  many  there  are  that  crowd  to  get 
 into  the  church,  but  make  no  room  for  the 
 sermon  to  get  into  them ;  commend  the 
 preacher  to  other  men's  ears,  but  commend 
 it  not  to  their  own  hearts.  They  hear  a 
 sound,  but  not  sound  doctrine.  That  is  the 
 least  part  of  their  attention. 
 
 Nathaniel  Shute. 
 HEAEEES— Tastes  in. 
 
 One  is  like  an  Athenian,  and  he  heark- 
 eneth  after  news  :  if  the  preacher  say  any- 
 thing of  our  armies  beyond  the  sea,  or 
 council  at  home,  or  matters  of  court,  that 
 is  his  lure  :  another  is  like  the  Pharisee, 
 and  he  watc^heth  if  anything  be  said  that 
 maj'  be  wrested  to  be  spoken  against  per- 
 sons in  high  place,  that  they  may  play  the 
 devil  in  accusing  of  his  brethren  ;  let  him 
 write  that  in  his  tables  too  :  another  smacks 
 of  eloquence,  and  he  gapes  for  a  phrase, 
 that  when  he  cometh  to  his  ordinary,  he 
 may  have  one  figure  more  to  grace  and 
 worship  his  tale  :  another  is  malcontent, 
 and  he  never  pricketh  up  his  ears  till  the 
 preacher  come  to  gird  against  some  whom 
 he  spiteth,  and  when  the  sermon  is  done, 
 he  remembereth  nothing  which  was  said 
 to  him,  but  that  which  was  spoken  against 
 another  :  another  cometh  to  gaze  about  the 
 church,  he  huth  an  evil  eye,  which  is  still 
 looking  upon  that  from  which  Job  did  avert 
 his  eye  :  another  cometh  to  muse,  so  soon 
 
HEARERS— HEART. 
 
 as  lie  is  set,  he  falleth  into  a  brown  study, 
 sometimes  his  mind  iixns  on  his  market, 
 sometimes  of  his  journey,  sometimes  of  his 
 suit,  sometimes  of  liis  dinner,  sometimes  of 
 his  sport  after  dinner ;  .and  the  sermon  is 
 done  before  the  man  think  where  he  is : 
 another  cometh  to  hear,  but  so  soon  as  the 
 preacher  hath  said  his  prayer,  he  falls  fast 
 asleep,  as  though  he  had  been  brought  in 
 for  a  corpse,  and  the  preacher  should 
 preach  at  his  funeral.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 Two  aged  women  of  a  village  where 
 John  Foster  preached  gratuitously,  are 
 said  to  have  given  the  following  contrasted 
 judgments  of  his  sermons — one  setting  him 
 down  for  "a  perfect  fool,"  the  other 
 "  longing  to  hear  that  good  man  all  the 
 •winter."  J.  Sheppard. 
 
 HEARERS— Unprofitable. 
 
 As  the  husbandman,  though  he  should 
 he  never  sc  laborious  in  plougliing,  sowing 
 and  fitting  the  ground  ;  though  he  be  never 
 so  careful  to  provide  precious  and  good 
 seed,  yet  if  the  nature  of  the  ground  be 
 barren,  as  it  will  bear  no  seed,  or  cause  it 
 to  degenerate  into  weeds,  all  the  labour  is 
 in  vain  J  or  as  the  gardener,  though  he 
 water  and  dress  never  so  carefully,  yet  if 
 the  tree  be  dead  at  the  root,  it  is  all  to  no 
 purpose.  So,  though  the  ministers  of  God 
 are  very  earnest  in  praying,  preaching,  in- 
 forming, rebuking  ;  yet,  when  the  ground 
 is  barren,  the  tree  dead  at  the  root, — if  the 
 people  be  of  a  froward,  and  indisposed 
 temper,  if  the  god  of  this  world  hath 
 blinded  their  eyes  that  they  do  not  see, 
 nor  understand,  nor  feel  the  power  of  God, 
 working  upon  their  soul;  what  hope  is 
 there,  or  can  there  be  of  such  a  people  ? 
 
 Spencer. 
 HEART— Believing. 
 
 As  the  softened  wax  cannot  show  any 
 other  figure  than  the  corresponding  con- 
 verse of  the  seal  that  has  been  pressed 
 upon  it ;  so  the  broken,  humbled,  believing 
 heart,  when  it  has  yielded  to  the  wisdom 
 from  above,  which  is  first  pure,  then  peace- 
 able, cannot  present  upward  to  God  any 
 other  character  than  a  copy  of  His  own. 
 
 Arnot. 
 HEART— Broken. 
 
 Ever  since  it  was  broken  at  the  fall  the 
 heart  of  man  is  a  cracked  pitcher,  from 
 which  happiness  runs  out  with  amazing 
 rapidity,  and  the  finer  the  fluid — the  more 
 subtle  the  element  of  joy — the  faster  does  it 
 trickle  through  ;  and  often  it  is  not  till  the 
 latest  film  is  regretfully  vanishing,  that 
 the  soul  knows  it  ought  to  have  been 
 ^fippy>  i°<i  is  sorry  for  not  knowing 
 sooner. 
 
 "  The  sweetness  that  pleasure  has  in  it. 
 Is  always  so  slow  to  come  forth, 
 
 That  seldom,  alas  !  till  the  minute 
 It  dies,  do  we  know  half  its  worth." 
 
 Br.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 HEART— Changes  of  the. 
 The  heart  is  like  the  sky,  a  part  of  heaven. 
 But  changes,  night  and  day  too,  like  the 
 sky: 
 Now  o'er  it  clouds  and  thunder  must  be 
 driven. 
 And   darkness    and   destruction,   as  on 
 high; 
 But    when    it   hath  been    scorch'd,   and 
 pierc'd  and  riven,  [eye 
 
 Its  storms  expire  in  water-drops;    the 
 Pours  forth  at  last,  the  heart's  blood  turn'd 
 to  tears.  Lord  Byron. 
 
 HEART— Christ  Knocking  at  the. 
 
 In  the  silent  midnight  watches 
 
 List  thy  bosom-door ; 
 How  it  knocketh — knocketh — KNOCKETH, 
 
 Knocketh  evermore  ! 
 Say  not  'tis  thy  pulse's  beating, 
 
 'Tis  thy  heart  of  sin ; 
 'Tis  thy  Saviour  stands  entreating. 
 
 Rise,  and  let  Me  in. 
 
 Death  comes  with  equal  footstep 
 
 To  the  hall  and  hut ; 
 Think  you.  Death  will  stand  a-knocking 
 
 Where  the  door  is  shut ! 
 Jesus  waiteth — tvaiteth — waiteth  ; 
 
 But  thy  door  is  fast ; 
 Grieved,  at  length  away  He  turneth ; 
 
 Death  breaks  in  at  last ! 
 
 Then  'tis  thine  to  stand  entreating 
 
 Christ  to  let  thee  in ; 
 At  the  door  of  heaven  beating. 
 
 Wailing  for  thy  sin. 
 Nay,  alas,  thou  foolish  virgin, 
 
 Hast  thou  then  forgot, 
 Jesus  waited  long  to  know  thee  ? 
 
 But — He  knows  ikee  not!  Anon. 
 
 HEART— Christ  coming  into  the. 
 
 Suppose  you  were  in  a  dark  room  in  the 
 morning,  the  shutters  closed  and  fastened, 
 and  only  as  much  light  coming  through 
 the  chinks  as  made  you  aware  it  was  day 
 outside.  And  suppose  you  should  say  to  a 
 companion  with  you,  "Let  us  open  the 
 windows,  and  let  in  the  light."  What 
 would  you  think  if  he  replied,  "  No,  no, 
 you  must  first  put  the  darkness  out,  or  the 
 light  will  not  enter  ?"  You  would  laugh  at 
 his  absurdity.  Just  so,  we  cannot  put  sin 
 out  of  our  hearts  to  prepare  for  Christ's 
 entering  ;  we  must  open  and  take  Him  in, 
 and  sin  will  flee.  Fling  the  window  open 
 at  once,  and  let  Christ  shine  in. 
 
 Dr.  Edmond. 
 
HEART. 
 
 421 
 
 HEART— Christ  coining  into  the. 
 
 Lord !  come  away  ! 
 
 Why  dost  Thou  stay  ? 
 Thy  road  is  ready ;   and  Thy  paths  made 
 
 straight 
 With  longing  expectation  wait 
 The  consecration  of  Thy  beauteous  feet ! 
 Ride  on  triumphantly  !     Behold  we  lay 
 Our  lusts  and  proud  wills  in  Thy  way ! 
 
 Hosanna !   Welcome,  to  our  hearts !   Lord, 
 
 here 
 Thou  hast  a  temple  too ;  and  full  as  dear 
 As  those  of  Zion,  and  as  full  of  sin : 
 Nothing  but   thieves   and    robbers   dwell 
 
 therein. 
 Enter,  and  chase  them  forth,  and  cleanse 
 
 the  floor ! 
 Crucify  them,  that  they  may  never  more 
 Profane  that  holy  place 
 Where  Thou  hast  chose  to  set  Thy  face! 
 And  then,  if  our  stifl'  tongues  shall  be 
 Mute  in  the  praises  of  Thy  Deity, 
 The  stones  out  of  the  temple  wall 
 Shall  cry  aloud,  and  call 
 Hosanna!  and  Thy  glorious  footsteps  greet! 
 
 Amen!  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 HEART— Circumcision  of  the. 
 
 In  general  we  may  observe,  it  is  that 
 habitual  disposition  of  soul,  which  in  the 
 sacred  writings  is  termed  holiness,  and 
 which  directly  implies  the  being  cleansed 
 from  sin,  from  all  filthiness  of  flesh  and 
 spirit,  and  by  consequence,  the  being 
 endued  with  those  virtues  which  were  also 
 in  Christ  Jesus,  the  being  so  renewed  in 
 the  spirit  of  our  mind,  as  to  be  perfect  as 
 our  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 HEART— Clean. 
 
 A  house  is  not  clean,  though  all  the  dust 
 be  swept  together,  if  it  lie  still  in  a  corner 
 within  doors  ;  a  conscience  is  not  clean,  by 
 having  recollected  all  her  sins  in  the 
 memory,  for  they  may  fester  there,  and 
 gangrene  even  to  desperation,  till  she  have 
 emptied  them  in  the  bottomless  sea  of  the 
 blood  of  Christ  Jesus,  and  the  mercy  of 
 His  Father,  by  this  way  of  confession.  But 
 a  house  is  not  clean  neither,  though  the 
 dust  be  thrown  out,  if  there  hang  cobwebs 
 about  the  walls  in  how  dark  a  corner  so- 
 ever. A  conscience  is  not  clean,  though 
 the  sins  brought  to  our  memory  by  this 
 examination  be  cast  upon  God's  mercy,  and 
 the  merits  of  His  Son  by  confession,  if 
 there  remain  in  me  but  a  cobweb — a  little, 
 but  a  sinful  delight  in  the  memory  of  those 
 sins  which  I  had  formerly  committed. 
 
 Dr.  Donne. 
 HEART— Corruptions  in  the. 
 
 Methodius  compares  the  inbred  corrup- 
 tions of  man's  heart  to  a  wild  fig  tree, 
 growing   upon  the  wall  of  some   goodly 
 
 temple  or  stately  palace,  whereof,  although 
 the  main  trunk  of  the  stem  be  broke  ofl" 
 and  stump  of  the  root  be  plucked  up,  yet 
 the  fibrous  strings  of  it  piercing  into  the 
 joints  of  the  stone  wjrk  will  not  be  utterly 
 extracted,  but  will  ever  and  anon  be  shoot- 
 ing and  sprouting  out  until  the  whole  frame 
 of  the  building  be  dissolved  and  the  stone- 
 work thereof  be  disjointed  and  pulled  in 
 pieces.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 HEART— Empty. 
 
 As  an  empty  vessel  on  the  water  rolls 
 to  and  fro  and  is  tossed  about  at  the  inercy 
 of  the  wind  and  waves ;  so  is  the  heart, 
 empty  of  the  love  of  God,  driven  upon  the 
 sea  of  this  life,  by  impertinent  thoughts 
 and  foolish  imaginations.  It  has  no  resting- 
 place.  John  Bate. 
 
 HEART— Excited. 
 
 Does  the  excited  heart  need  direction  as 
 to  the  manner  of  its  pulsations  ?  As  well 
 teach  the  earth  how  to  move  in  her  orbit. 
 You  cannot  if  you  luoicld,  direct.  As  well 
 attempt  to  give  laws  to  the  earthquake  or 
 the  volcano,  or  learn  the  exploding  maga- 
 zine hoio  it  shall  expand.  The  excited 
 heart  scorns  to  think  of  rhetoric  or  logic. 
 They  dare  not  speak  to  her;  but  sit  mute 
 and  enraptured  spectators  of  her  motions. 
 They  cease  to  be  teachers,  and  become 
 silent  and  humble,  but  enchanted  toor- 
 shippers.  What  was  the  eloquence  of 
 Demosthenes  ?  The  outbursting  of  an 
 overflowing  soul.  What  the  eloquence  of 
 Logan  ?  The  plaints  of  a  wounded  heart. 
 What  the  eloquence  of  Tecumseh  ?  The 
 eruptions  of  pent-up  revenge  and  indig- 
 nation. There  is  no  rhetoric  like  that  of 
 the  stimulated  spirit.  Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 HEART— God  Asks  the. 
 
 Of  all  the  suitors  which  come  unto  you, 
 it  seems  there  is  none  which  hath  any  title 
 to  claim  the  heart  but  God,  wlio  challengeth 
 it  by  the  name  of  a  "  son,"  as  if  He  should 
 say.  Thou  shalt  give  it  to  thy  Father,  who 
 gave  it  to  thee  :  art  thou  My  son  ?  My 
 sons  give  me  their  hearts,  and  by  this  they 
 know  that  I  am  their  Father,  if  I  dwell  in 
 their  hearts ;  for  the  heart  is  the  temple  of 
 God;  therefore  if  thou  be  His  son,  thou 
 wilt  give  Him  thy  heart,  because  thy 
 Father  desires  it;  thy  Maker  desires  it, 
 thy  Redeemer  desires  it,  thy  Saviour  desires 
 it,  thy  Lord  and  thy  King,  and  thy  Master 
 desires  it,  who  hath  given  His  Son  for  a 
 ransom,  His  Spirit  for  a  pledge,  His  word 
 for  a  guide,  the  world  for  a  walk,  and  re- 
 serves a  kingdom  for  thine  inheritance. 
 
 Senry  iSmith. 
 
 The  master  requires  labour,  the  landlord 
 requires  rent,  the  captain  requires  fight ; 
 but  God  requires  the  heart.  Ibid. 
 
422 
 
 HEAET. 
 
 HEART— God  Asks  the. 
 
 If  thou  knowest,  as  Christ  said  to  the 
 woman  of  Samaria,  who  it  is  which  saith 
 unto  thee,  Give  me  thy  heart,  thou  wouldest 
 say  unto  Him  as  Peter  did,  when  Christ 
 would  wash  his  feet.  Lord,  not  my  feet  only, 
 hut  my  hands  and  my  head ;  not  my  heart 
 only,  but  all  my  body,  and  my  thoughts, 
 and  my  words  and  my  works,  and  my 
 goods,  and  my  life,  Take  all  that  Thou  hast 
 given.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 If  ye  ask  me  why  you  should  give  your 
 hearts  to  God  ?  I  do  not  answer,  like  the 
 disciples  who  went  for  the  ass  and  colt, 
 The  Lord  hath  need ;  but  we  have  need. 
 If  ever  the  saying  were  true,  It  is  more 
 blessed  to  give  than  take,  more  blessed  are 
 they  who  do  give  their  hearts  to  God  than 
 they  which  take  possession  of  the  world. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 Give  God  thy  heart  that  He  may  keep 
 it,  not  a  piece  of  thy  heart,  not  a  room  in 
 thy  heart,  but  thy  heart.  The  heart  di- 
 vided dieth.  God  is  not  like  the  mother 
 who  would  have  the  child  divided,  but  like 
 the  natural  mother  who  said.  Rather  than 
 it  should  be  divided,  let  her  take  all.  Let 
 the  devil  have  all,  if  He  who  gave  it  be 
 not  worthy  of  it.  God  hath  no  copesmate, 
 therefore  He  will  have  no  parting  of  stakes, 
 but  all  or  none;  and  therefore  He  who 
 asks  thy  heart,  asks  all  thy  heart,  all  thy 
 soul,  all  thy  strength,  as  in  Deuteronomy  ; 
 thrice  He  requireth  all,  lest  we  should 
 keep  a  thought  behind.  It  is  thy  heart, 
 that  is  a  vain  heart,  a  barren  heart,  a 
 siniul  heart,  until  thou  give  it  unto  God ; 
 and  then  it  is  the  spouse  of  Christ,  the 
 temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  image 
 of  God,  so  changed  and  formed,  and  refined, 
 that  God  calls  it  a  new  heart. 
 
 Ibid. 
 HEART— Good. 
 
 There  was  a  great  master  among  the 
 Jews  who  bid  his  scholars  consider  and 
 tell  him  what  was  the  best  way  wherein  a 
 man  should  always  keep.  One  came  and 
 said,  that  there  was  nothing  better  than  a 
 good  eye,  which  is,  in  their  language,  a 
 liberal  and  contented  disposition.  Another 
 said  a.  good  companion  is  the  best  thing  in 
 the  world.  A  third  said,  a  good  neighbour 
 was  the  best  thing  he  could  desire  :  and  a 
 fourth  preferred  a  man  that  could  foresee 
 things  to  come  ;  that  is,  a  tvise  person. 
 But  at  last  there  came  in  one  Eleazer,  and 
 he  said  a  good  heart  was  better  than  them 
 all.  True,  said  the  master,  thou  hast  com- 
 prehended in  two  words  all  that  the  rest 
 have  said.  For  he  that  hath  a  good  heart, 
 will  be  both  contented  and  a  good  com- 
 panion, a  good  neighbour,  and  easily  see 
 what  is  fit  to  be  done  by  him.     Let  every 
 
 man,  then,  seriously  labour  to  find  in  him- 
 self a  sincerity  and  uprightness  of  heart 
 at  all  times,  and  that  will  save  him  abun- 
 dance of  other  labour.  £p.  Patrick. 
 
 HEART— Gospel  Light  on  the. 
 
 But,  oh  !  the  mellow  light  that  pours 
 
 From  God's  pure  throne — the  light  that 
 
 saves ! 
 It  warms  the  spirit  as  it  soars. 
 And  sheds  deep  radiance  round  our  graves. 
 G.  Mellen. 
 HEART— Hardened. 
 
 An  old  man,  one  day  taking  a  child  on 
 his  knee,  entreated  him  to  seek  God  now — 
 t"-  pray  to  Him— and  to  love  Him  ;  when 
 the  child,  looking  up  at  him,  asked  "  But 
 why  do  not  you  seek  God  ?"  The  old  man, 
 deeply  aS'ected,  answered,  "  I  would,  child ; 
 but  my  heart  is  hard — my  heart  is  hard." 
 
 J.  JVTiitecross. 
 HEART— Hardening  the. 
 
 On  a  winter  evening,  when  the  frost  is 
 setting  in  with  growing  intensity,  and 
 when  the  sun  is  now  far  past  the  meridian, 
 and  gradually  sinking  in  the  western  sky, 
 there  is  a  double  reason  why  the  ground 
 grows  every  moment  harder  and  more  im- 
 penetrable to  the  plough.  On  the  one 
 hand,  the  frost  of  evening,  with  ever- in- 
 creasing intensity,  is  indurating  the  stiff- 
 ening  clods.  On  the  other  hand,  the  genial 
 rays,  which  alone  can  soften  them,  are 
 every  moment  withdrawing  and  losing  their 
 enlivening  power.  Take  heed  that  it  be 
 not  so  with  you.  As  long  as  you  are  un- 
 converted, you  are  under  a  double  process 
 of  hardening.  The  frosts  of  an  eternal 
 night  are  settling  down  upon  your  souls  j 
 and  tlie  Sun  <f  Righteousness  with  wester- 
 ing wheel,  is  hastening  to  set  upon  you 
 for  evermore.  If,  then,  the  plough  of 
 grace  cannot  force  its  way  into  your  ice- 
 bound heart  to-day,  what  likelihood  is 
 there  that  it  will  enter  to-morrow  ? 
 
 McCheyne. 
 HEART— a  House. 
 
 The  heart  of  man  may  be  fitly  compared 
 to  a  house  built  by  God  and  for  God. 
 This  house  is  so  constructed  as  to  include 
 many  noble  and  magnificent  apartments, 
 adapted  to  the  highest  and  most  important 
 purposes ;  such  as  perception  and  memory, 
 understanding  and  conscience,  the  will  and 
 the  aflections,  by  means  of  which  it  is 
 rendered  capable  of  receiving  and  enter- 
 taining truth,  holiness,  and  happiness. 
 Yea,  it  is  so  formed  by  tlie  heavenly  Ar- 
 chitect, as  to  be  a  fit  habitation  even  for 
 Himself;  the  residence  of  His  eternal 
 Spirit ;  the  receptacle  of  His  light,  and 
 life,  and  comfort;  the  scene  which  He  may 
 honour  with  His  cheering  presence,  and 
 adorn  with  all  the  beauties  of  moral  excel- 
 lence. Dr.  Bunting 
 
HEART. 
 
 423 
 
 HEART— Jesu  in  the. 
 
 Jesu  is  in  my  heart,  His  sacred  Name 
 
 Is  deeply  carved  there ;  but  th'  other  week 
 
 A  great  affliction  broke  the  little  frame, 
 
 Ev'n  all  to  pieces;    which  I  went  to  seek  : 
 
 And  first  I  found  the  corner,  where  was  J,. 
 
 After,  where  ES,  and  next  where  U  was 
 
 graved. 
 "When  I  had  got  these  parcels,  instantly 
 I  sat  me  down  to  spell  them,  and  I  per- 
 ceived, [i/OM, 
 That  to  my  broken  heart  He  was  I  ease 
 And  to  my  whole  is  JESU.            Herbert. 
 
 HEART— New. 
 
 God  will  not  put  new  wine  into  old 
 bottles.  He  never  prints  His  love  upon 
 the  heart  till  it  be  renewed  and  prepared 
 with  evangelical  meltings;  and  the  same 
 seal  that  prints  his  love  prints  His  image 
 too.  A  flinty  heart  will  not  talie  the  seal 
 of  the  Spirit ;  the  sparkling  white  stone  is 
 never  given  till  the  heart  of  stone  be  taken 
 away.  The  new  name  is  not  given  till  the 
 new  creature  be  framed ;  and  though  the 
 outward  sun,  with  liberal  and  undistin- 
 guishing  beams,  shines  both  on  the  good 
 and  the  b:id,  yet  the  light  of  God's  counte- 
 nance beams  out  only  upon  the  apples  of 
 His  own  eye.  CulvertveU. 
 
 HEART— Peaceftd. 
 
 Unless  the  heart  be  kept  peaceable,  the 
 life  will  not  be  happy.  If  calm  doth  not 
 reign  over  that  inner  lake  within  the  soul, 
 which  feeds  the  rivers  of  our  life,  the 
 rivers  themselves  will  always  be  in  storm. 
 Our  outward  acts  will  always  tell  that  they 
 were  born  in  tempests  by  being  tempestu- 
 ous themselves.  We  all  desire  to  lead  a 
 joyous  life  ;  the  bright  eye  and  the  elastic 
 foot  are  things  which  we  each  of  us  desire  : 
 to  carry  about  a  contented  mind  is  that  to 
 ■which  most  men  are  continually  aspiring. 
 Let  us  remember  that  the  only  way  to 
 keep  our  life  peaceful  and  happy  is  to 
 keep  the  heart  at  rest ;  for  come  poverty, 
 come  wealth,  come  honour,  come  shame, 
 come  plenty,  or  come  scarcity,  if  the  heart 
 be  quiet,  there  will  be  happiness  anywhere. 
 But  whatever  the  sunshine  and  the  bright- 
 ness, if  the  heart  be  troubled  the  whole 
 life  must  be  troubled  too.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 HEART— Right. 
 
 "  When  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  had  laid'  his 
 head  upon  the  block,"  says  an  eloquent 
 divine,  "he  was  asked  by  the  executioner 
 whether  it  lay  aright.  Whereupon,  with 
 the  calmness  of  a  hero  and  the  faith  of  a 
 Christian,  he  returned  an  answer,  the  power 
 of  which  we  all  shall  feel  when  our  head  is 
 tossing  and  turning  on  death's  uneasy 
 pillow, — '  It  matters  little,  my  friend,  how 
 the  head  lies  providing  the  heart  be  right.'" 
 E.  Steele. 
 
 HEART— Setting  the. 
 
 Music  is  sweet,  but  the  setting  of  the 
 strings  in  tune  is  unpleasing  ;  so  is  it  harsh 
 to  set  our  hearts  in  order,  which  yet  must 
 be  done,  and  thoroughly  done.     J.  Trapp. 
 
 HEART— Slii  in  the. 
 
 In  every  man's  heart  there  is  this  triple 
 root  of  s'.n ;  no  one  who  knows  his  own 
 heart  will  dispute  it ;  the  root  of  selfish- 
 ness, from  which  spring  self-indulgence, 
 self-will,  self-esteeraj  and  the  whole  brood 
 of  vanity  and  pride ;  the  root  of  worldly- 
 mindedness,  which  issues  in  ambition,  in 
 covetousness,  in  the  love  of  money,  in  the 
 desireof  advancement,  of  honour,  of  power; 
 and  the  root  of  carnal-minded  ness,  from 
 which,  if  it  be  not  cut  down  betimes,  and 
 kept  diligently  from  shooting  up  again, 
 the  lusts  of  the  flesh  will  sprout  rankly, 
 and  overrun  aud  stifle  the  soul. 
 
 Archdeacon  Sare, 
 
 HEART —Sin  Destroyed  in  the. 
 
 One  day  Gotthold  saw  a  nettle  growing 
 in  a  flower  border,  and,  on  attempting  to 
 pull  it  up  found  that  he  brought  with  it 
 a  quantity  of  the  soil,  of  which,  with  its 
 many  roots  and  fibres,  it  had  taken  a  firm 
 hold.  It  is  tlie  same,  he  inwardly  thought, 
 with  our  conversion.  When  God  would 
 extirpate  the  plant  of  sin  from  our  hearts, 
 alas !  how  strong  the  hold  it  has  taken ! 
 and  with  how  many  roots  of  evil  concupis- 
 cence it  has  fastened  and  entwined  itself 
 on  every  side !  The  consequence  is  inevi- 
 table, part  of  the  heart  must  come  with  it, 
 by  which  I  mean  that  it  cannot  be  torn  up 
 witho>it  pain,  anguish,  and  sorrow.  Rut 
 what  does  that  matter  ?  Weeds  which 
 are  only  removed  from  the  surface  shoot 
 again ;  and  unless  they  are  thoroughly  ex- 
 tirpated, it  is  not  safe  to  plant  flowers  or 
 herbs  in  their  place.  Vain,  therefore,  is 
 the  attempt  to  make  ourselves  good  by  a 
 forced  and  unsteady  resolution,  while  we 
 retain  the  love  of  evil  in  our  breast,  for 
 that  is  only  waiting  a  favorable  season  and 
 opportunity  to  shoot  afresh.  Ootthold, 
 
 HEART— Sin  not  Known  in  the. 
 
 It  is  ignorant  of  sin,  just  because  it  is 
 naturally  sinful.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
 it  may  be  said  that  "  the  heart  knoweth  " 
 vot  "  its  own  bitterness."  Faint,  frail,  and 
 disordered  from  the  first,  how  should  it 
 easily  suspect  its  own  diseases  ?  inexperi- 
 enced in  the  better,  how  should  it  dream 
 that  a  better  exists  ?  Archer  Butler, 
 
 HEART— Sinful  Thought  in  the. 
 
 A  disloyal  thought  hath  in  it  the  nature 
 of  the  formed  evil  to  which  it  tends.  Here 
 is  seminal  apostacy.  The  cockatrice  e^g:, 
 iong  enough  hatched,  becomes  a  serpent. 
 
424 
 
 HEART— HEATHEN. 
 
 and  therefore  ought  to  he  crushed  betime. 
 A  man's  heart  now  begins  sinfully  to  tempt 
 him,  as  he  is  never  tempted  with  effect  till 
 he  be  led  away  by  his  own  heart  and  en- 
 ticed; and  now  is  the  conception  of  that 
 sin  which,  being  finished,  is  eventually 
 mortal,  and  brings  forth  death. 
 
 John  Some. 
 
 HEART— Suitors  of  the. 
 
 There  is  such  strife  for  the  heart  as  there 
 was  for  Moses'  body.  Give  it  me,  saith 
 the  Lord ;  give  it  me,  saith  the  temper ; 
 give  it  me,  saith  the  pope  ;  give  it  me,  saith 
 riches ;  give  it  me,  saith  pleasure,  as  though 
 thou  must  needs  give  it.  Now,  here  is  the 
 choice,  whether  thou  wilt  give  it  to  God 
 or  to  the  devil ;  God's  heart  or  the  devil's 
 heart,  whose  wilt  thou  be  ? 
 
 Thus  doth  man  hang  in  a  balance,  like 
 a  young  virgin  which  hath  many  suitors  ; 
 some  she  fancieth  for  their  parentage, 
 some  for  personnge,  some  for  friends,  some 
 for  wealth,  some  for  wit,  some  for  virtue, 
 and  after  all,  chooseth  the  worst  of  all :  so 
 the  heart  hath  many  suitors  besides  God, 
 that  sometimes  she  marrieth  with  one, 
 sometimes  with  another,  the  world  keeps 
 her,  the  flesh  keeps  her,  the  devil  keeps 
 her ;  which  have  no  more  interest  in  her 
 than  Herod  to  bis  sister,  but  seek  her 
 spoil,  like  them  that  marry  for  riches  are 
 plad  when  one  dies,  that  another  may 
 come.  These  suitors  are  like  Absalom, 
 who  did  not  seek  the  hearts  of  the  people 
 like  David,  but  stole  them  with  flattery 
 and  lies.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 HEART— Timid. 
 
 But  to  the  timid  heart,  to  the  child  of  un- 
 belief and  dread 
 That  leaneth  on  his  own  weak  staff,  and 
 
 trusteth  the  sight  of  his  eyes. 
 The  evil  he  feared  shall  come,  for  the  soil 
 
 is  ready  for  the  seed  ; 
 And  suspicion  hath   coldly  put  aside  the 
 
 hand  that  was  ready  to  help  him  ; 
 Therefore  look  up,  sad  spirit,  be  strong, 
 
 thou  coward  heart, 
 Or  fear  will  make  thee  wretched,  though 
 
 evil  follow  not  behind  ; 
 Cease  to  anticipate  misfortune — there  are 
 
 still  many  chances  of  escape  ; 
 But  if  it  come,  be  courageous ;  face  it,  and 
 
 conquer  thy  calamity.  Tapper. 
 
 HEART  —Ungrateful. 
 
 Flints  may  be  melted  (we  see  it  daily), 
 but  an  ungrateful  heart  cannot;  no,  not 
 by  the  strongest  and  the  noblest  flame. 
 
 The  greatest  favours  to  such  an  one  are 
 like  the  motion  of  a  ship  upon  the  waves ; 
 they  leave  no  trace,  no  sign  behind  them ; 
 they  neither  repel  nor  win  upon  him. 
 
 All  kindnesses  descend  upon  such  a 
 temper,  as   showers  of  rain,  or  rivers  of 
 
 fresh  water  falling  into  the  main  sea  ;  the 
 sea  swallows  them  all,  but  is  not  at  all 
 changed  or  sweetened  by  them. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 
 HEART— Wearing  of  the. 
 
 It  has  been  truly  said  that  the  human 
 heart  is  like  the  millstone,  which,  if  there 
 be  wheat  beneath  it,  will  grind  to  purposes 
 of  health ;  if  not,  will  grind  still,  at  the 
 will  of  the  wild  wind,  but  on  itself.  So 
 does  the  heart  wear  out  itself,  against  its 
 own  thought.  One  fixed  idea — one  remem- 
 brance, and  no  other — one  stationary,  wear- 
 ing anguish.  This  is  remorse,  passing  into 
 despair ;  itself  the  goad  to  fresh  and  wilder 
 crimes.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 HEART— World  cannot  satisfy  the. 
 
 You  may  as  soon  fill  a  bag  with  wisdom, 
 a  chest  with  virtue,  or  a  circle  with  a 
 triangle,  as  the  heart  of  man  with  any- 
 thing here  below.  A  man  may  have 
 enough  of  the  world  to  sink  him,  but  he 
 can  never  have  enough  to  satisfy  him. 
 
 T.  Broolcs. 
 
 HEATHEN— Liberality  to  their  Gods. 
 
 The  Hindoos  when  gathering  in  their 
 harvest,  before  it  is  removed  from  the 
 threshing  floor,  take  out  a  portion  for 
 their  god.  However  poor,  or  however 
 small  their  crops  may  be,  their  god's  por- 
 tion is  given  first. 
 
 The  Rev.  J.  J.  Weitbrecht  says,  in  his 
 '  Protestant  Mission  in  Bengal,'  illustrated, 
 "  My  readers  will  be  surprised  to  hear  how 
 much  wealthy  natives  spend  upon  their 
 idols.  I  once  visited  the  Rajah  of  Buid- 
 wan,  and  found  him  sitting  in  his  treasury. 
 Fifty  bags  of  money,  containing  1000  ru- 
 pees (£100)  in  each,  were  placed  before 
 him.  '  What,'  said  I,  '  are  you  doing  with 
 all  this  money  ?'  He  replied,  '  It  is  for  my 
 gods.'  'How  do  you  mean  that?'  I  re- 
 joined. '  One  part  is  sent  to  Benares, 
 where  I  have  two  fine  temples  on  the  river 
 side,  and  many  priests  who  pray  for  me; 
 another  part  goes  to  Juggernaut;  and  a 
 third  to  Gaya.'  And  thus  one  native 
 is  spending  £25,000  annually  from  his 
 princely  income  upon  idle  Brahmins." 
 
 E.  B.  Poioer. 
 
 HEATHEN— light  abused  by  the. 
 
 I  admit  that  the  heathen  have  some 
 natural  light,  but  they  do  not  use  even 
 this  aright.  Now,  suppose  the  whole 
 family  in  a  farm-house,  assembled  round 
 the  large  kitchen  fire  on  a  winter's  even- 
 ing, all  peaceful  and  happy.  Presently, 
 the  stableman  opens  the  door,  and  cries 
 out,  "  Master,  master,  the  thieves  are  rob- 
 bing the  hen-roost."  Up  they  all  start; 
 the  farmer  rushes  to  his  closet  for  his 
 lantern  ;    he  lights   the  candle   and  runs 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 425 
 
 out,  and  holding  up  the  light  nearly  to 
 his  head,  advances  with  cautious  steps. 
 The  wheelbarrow  has  been  left  in  the  way, 
 and  over  it  the  good  man  falls — and  why  ? 
 Because  he  has  no  light  ?  no ;  because  Vie 
 used  it  improperly.  Thus  it  is  with  the 
 heathen.  jK.  Hill. 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 Brief  life  is  here  our  portion  ; 
 
 Brief  sorrow,  short-lived  carej 
 The  life  that  knows  no  ending. 
 
 The  tearless  life  is  there. 
 Oh,  happy  retribution  ! 
 
 Short  toil,  eternal  rest ; 
 For  mortals  and  for  sinners 
 
 A  mansion  with  the  blest ! 
 That  we  sliould  look — poor  wanderers — 
 
 To  have  our  homes  on  high  ! 
 That  worms  should  seek  for  dwellings 
 
 Beyond  the  starry  sky  ! 
 To  all  one  happy  guerdon 
 
 Of  one  celestial  grace ; 
 For  all,  for  all  who  mourn  their  fall 
 
 Is  one  eternal  place ; 
 And  martyrdom  hath  roses 
 
 Upon  that  heavenly  ground ; 
 And  white  and  virgin  lilies 
 
 For  virgin  souls  abound. 
 There  grief  is  turned  to  pleasure  j 
 
 Such  pleasure  as  below 
 No  human  voice  can  utter. 
 
 No  human  heart  can  know  j 
 And  after  fleshly  scandal. 
 
 And  after  this  world's  night, 
 And  after  storm  and  whirlwind. 
 
 Is  calm,  and  joy,  and  light,    .. 
 And  there  is  David's  fountain, 
 
 And  life  in  fullest  glow, 
 And  there  the  light  is  golden, 
 
 And  milk  and  honey  flow  ! 
 There  Jesus  shall  embrace  us, 
 
 There  Jesus  be  embraced ; 
 That  spirit's  food  and  sunshine. 
 
 Whence  earthly  love  is  chased. 
 
 St.  Bernard. 
 
 HEAVEN— Activity  in. 
 
 Excepting  exemption  from  sin,  intense, 
 vigorous,  untiring  action  is  the  greatest 
 pleasure  of  the  mind.  I  could  hardly  wish 
 to  enter  heaven  did  I  believe  its  inhabi- 
 tants were  idly  to  sit  by  purling  streams, 
 fanned  by  balmy  airs.  Heaven,  to  be  a 
 place  of  happiness,  must  be  a  place  of 
 activity.  Has  the  far-reachmg  mind  of 
 Newton  ceased  its  profound  investigations  ? 
 Has  David  hung  up  his  harp  as  useless  as 
 the  dusty  arms  in  Westminster  Abbey  ? 
 Has  Paul,  glowing  with  God-like  enthu- 
 siasm, ceased  itinerating  the  universe  of 
 God?  Are  Peter,  and  Cyprian,  and  Ed- 
 wards, and  Payson,  and  Evarts,  idling 
 away  eternity  in  mere  psalm-singing  ? 
 Heaven  is  a  place  of  restless  activity,  tlie 
 abode  of  never-  tiring  thought.     David  and 
 
 Isaiah  will  sweep  nobler  and  loftier  strains 
 in  eternity,  and  the  minds  of  the  saints, 
 unclogged  by  cumbersome  clay,  will  for 
 ever  feast  on  the  banquet  of  rich  and 
 glorious  thought.  My  young  friends,  go 
 on,  then  ;  you  will  never  get  through. 
 An  eternity  of  untiring  action  is  before 
 you,  and  the  universe  of  thought  is  your 
 field.  R.  W.  Bee'cher. 
 
 HEAVEN— Assurance  of. 
 
 I  wish  there  be  not,  among  some,  such 
 a  light  and  poor  esteem  of  heaven,  as 
 makes  them  more  to  seek  after  assurance 
 of  heaven  only  in  the  idea  of  it,  as  a 
 thing  to  come,  than  after  heaven  itself; 
 which,  indeed,  we  can  never  well  be 
 assured  of,  untU  we  find  it  rising  up 
 within  ourselves,  and  glorifying  our  own 
 souls.  When  true  assurance  comes,  heaven 
 itself  will  appear  upon  the  horizon  of 
 our  souls,  like  a  morning  light,  chasing 
 away  all  our  dark  and  gloomy  doubtings 
 before  it.  We  shall  not  need  then  to 
 light  up  candles  to  seek  for  it  in  corners; 
 no,  it  will  display  its  own  lustre  and 
 brightness  so  before  us,  that  we  may  see 
 it  in  its  own  light  and  ourselves  the  true 
 possessors  of  it.  John  Smith, 
 
 HEAVEN— Attractions  of. 
 
 And  is  there  nothing  in  the  sevenfold 
 light  of  that  Mount — nothing  in  the  goodly 
 fellowship  which  is  there  being  so  rapidly 
 perfected — nothing  in  the  bright  and  loving 
 spirits  which  are  there — nothing  in  the 
 deep  and  living  communion  which  is  there 
 enjoyed — nothing  in  the  sublime  service 
 which  is  there  carried  on — nothing  in  the 
 fountain-fulness  of  joy  which  is  there  ever 
 flowing  forth  in  crystal  purity — nothing 
 in  the  perpetuity  of  the  scene,  and  the 
 society,  and  the  fellowship  of  the  place — 
 above  all,  is  there  nothing  in  the  abiding 
 presence  and  glory  of  tlie  Lamb  as  He 
 stands  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  to 
 attract  us  thither  ?  All  the  light  of  earth 
 is  l)ut  a  shadow,  and  all  the  joys  of  time 
 are  but  a  dream,  compared  with  the 
 brightness  and  the  blessedness  of  the  world 
 to  come.  Dr.  Fergusop,. 
 
 Surrounded  by  the  great  cloud  of  wit- 
 nesses, which  includes  all  the  illustrious 
 dead,  cheered  by  the  presence  of  angels 
 and  glorified  spirits,  fanned  and  wafted  by 
 the  wing  of  some  brigliter  seraph,  wijth 
 the  glory  of  the  throne  streaming  upon 
 our  vision,  and  with  the  nlelody  of  heaven 
 falling  upon  our  ear,  let  us  rise  and  hasten 
 i'orward  in  our  course.  If  it  be,  that  in 
 the  new  song  of  that  world — the  song  of 
 redemption — the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  "  is 
 sweeping  a  harp  far  more  melodious  and 
 tuneful  than  the  one  he  swept  with  a 
 master  hand  on  earth;"  if  Elijah  is  there 
 
426 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 pouring  "  his  soul  of  fire  into  it  j"  if  Isaiah, 
 rapt  iu  seraphic  flame,  is  giving  to  it  "  a 
 loftier  echo ;"  if  Paul  is  there  mingling  his 
 mighty  ascriptions  of  glory  and  of  praise  ; 
 if  John  is  ever  breathing  into  it  his  full 
 heart  of  love ;  if  "  the  martyrs,  those  wit- 
 nesses for  the  truth,  wlio  passed  through 
 the  flames  for  their  reward,"  are  furnish- 
 ing "  new  accession  to  its  strength;"  if  all 
 the  redeemed  are  adding  to  its  volume  and 
 its  grandeur — then  let  us  never  pause  till 
 our  feet  shall  stand  on  that  mount  of  God, 
 and  our  voices  blend  in  that  one  sweetest 
 of  all  notes,  "  Unto  Him  that  loved  us,  and 
 hath  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  His  blood, 
 and  hath  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto 
 God,  even  His  Father ;  unto  Him  be  glory 
 and  dominion  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen." 
 Dr.  Ferguson. 
 
 In  the  deepening  twilight  of  a  summer 
 evening  a  pastor  called  at  the  residence  of 
 one  of  his  parishioners,  and  found,  seated 
 in  the  doorway,  a  little  boy  with  both 
 hands  extended  upward,  holding  a  line. 
 
 "  What  are  you  doing  here,  my  little 
 friend?"  inquired  the  minister. 
 
 "  Flying  my  kite,  sir,"  was  the  prompt 
 reply. 
 
 "Flying  your  kite!"  exclaimed  the 
 pastor ;  "  I  can  see  no  kite ;  you  can  see 
 none." 
 
 "  1  know  it,  sir,"  responded  the  lad ;  "  I 
 cannot  see  it,  but  I  knoiv  it  is  there,  for  I 
 feel  it  pull." 
 
 If  our  affections  are  set  upon  things 
 above  we  shall  have  a  sense  of  it  which 
 cannot  be  mistaken.  Anon. 
 
 HEAVEN— Beginning  of. 
 
 The  joys  of  heaven  will  begin  as  soon  as 
 we  attain  the  character  of  heaven  and  do 
 its  duties.  That  may  begm  to-day.  It  is 
 everlasting  life  to  know  God — to  have  His 
 Spirit  dwelling  in  you  —  yourself  at  one 
 with  Him.  Try  that  and  prove  its  worth. 
 Justice,  usefulness,  wisdom,  religion,  love, 
 are  the  best  things  we  hope  for  in  heaven. 
 Try  them  on — they  will  fit  you  here  not 
 less  beseemingly.  They  are  the  best  things 
 of  earth.  Think  no  outlay  of  goodness  and 
 piety  too  great.  You  will  find  your  reward 
 begin  here.  As  much  goodness  and  piety, 
 60  much  heaven.  Men  will  not  pay  you — 
 God  will  pay  you  now  j  pay  you  hereafter 
 and  for  ever.  T.  Farker.. 
 
 HEAVEN— ChOdren  in. 
 
 Heaven  is  greatly  made  up  of  little  chil- 
 dren— sweet  buds  that  have  never  blown, 
 or  which  death  has  j)lucked  from  a  mother's 
 bosom  to  lay  on  his  own  cold  breast,  just 
 wlieu  they  were  expanding,  flower-like, 
 from  the  sheath,  and  opening  their  en- 
 gMgliig  beauties  in  the  budding  time  and 
 spring  ol'  life.     "  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  i 
 
 of  ho.'iven."  How  soothing  these  words  by 
 the  cradle  of  a  dying  infant!  They  fall 
 hke  balm -drops  on  our  bleeding  heart, 
 when  we  watch  the  ebbing  of  that  young 
 life,  as  wave  after  wave  breaks  feebler,  and 
 the  sinking  breath  gets  lower  and  lower, 
 till  with  a  gentle  sigh,  and  a  passing  quiver 
 of  the  lip,  our  sweet  child  leaves  its  body 
 lying  like  an  angel  asleep,  and  ascends  to 
 the  beatitudes  of  heaven  and  the  bosom  of 
 its  God.  Perhaps  God  does  with  His  hea- 
 venly garden  as  we  do  with  our  own.  He 
 may  chiefly  stock  it  from  nurseries,  and 
 select  for  transplanting  what  is  yet  in  its 
 young  and  tender  age — flowers  before  they 
 have  bloomed,  and  trees  ere  they  begin  to 
 bear.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 HEAVEN— Christ  in. 
 
 Christ  is  as  necessary  to  the  heavenliness 
 of  heaven,  as  He  is  to  the  holiness  of  earth. 
 In  the  very  height  and  rapture  of  the 
 sanctity  of  heaven,  when  every  thouglit 
 of  all  its  radiant  multitudes  is  captive  to 
 the  obedience  of  Christ,  and  knows  its 
 happiness  only  in  that  blessed  bondage, 
 were  the  horrid  conception  possible  that 
 Clirist  Himself  should  suddenly  cease  to 
 exist,  that  instant  every  ray  of  its  holiness 
 would  expire ;  not  merely  the  heart  would 
 seek  in  vain  its  resting-place,  it  would  no 
 longer  possess  the  desire  to  seek  it  ;  not 
 merely  the  light  would  be  tvasted  iu  the 
 void  abyss,  it  would  be  quenched  utterly 
 and  for  ever.  Archer  Fuller. 
 
 A  little  negro  boy,  when  on  his  death- 
 bed, was  visited  by  a  missionary,  to  whom 
 he  spoke  of  the  happiness  he  felt,  and  the 
 longing  desire  he  had  to  be  with  Jesus. 
 "  I  am  going  to  heaven  soon,  and  then  I 
 shall  see  Jesus  and  be  with  Him  for  ever," 
 said  the  little  fellow.  "  But,"  rejoined  the 
 missionary,  "  if  Jesus  were  to  leave  heaven, 
 what  would  you  do?"  "I  would  follow 
 Him,"  replied  the  boy.  "But  suppose,"  said 
 the  missionary,  "  Jesus  went  to  hell,  what 
 would  you  do  then  ?  "  In  an  instant,  with 
 an  intelligent  look  and  a  smile  on  his  coun- 
 teiiauce,  he  replied,  "Ah,  Massa,  there  is 
 no  hell  where  Jesus  is."    S.  31.  Haughton. 
 
 HEAVEN— Christians  in. 
 
 I  once  heard  the  following  droll  story 
 of  a  certain  Canadian  convert:— He  had  a 
 dream,  he  said,  one  night,  that  he  was 
 translated  to  heaven,  which,  to  his  imagi- 
 nation, seemed  very  much  like  a  "  large 
 chureh  or  meeting-house"  (I  devoutly  trust 
 he  was  mistaken  in  that).  He  said  he 
 thought  Jesus  Christ  questioned  each  one 
 before  him  as  to  his  ecclesiastical  position. 
 One  said  he  was  an  Episcopalian.  "  Then," 
 said  Christ,  "you  can  go  and  sit  down  in 
 that  pew — there  all  the  Episcopalians  are 
 gathered  together,"    Another  said  he  was 
 
a  Baptist ;  he  was  in  like  manner  told  to 
 repair  to  another  pew.  A  third  said  he 
 was  a  Presbyterian,  and  a  third  pew  was 
 assigned  to  him;  and  so  of  the  rest.  At 
 last  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  poor  savage 
 to  be  catechised ;  and  not  being  sufficiently 
 ti]}  to  the  nice  divisions  of  ecclesiastical 
 and  doctrinal  theology,  he  was  afraid  that 
 there  would  be  no  "  pew "  found  for  him. 
 Trembling,  he  replied,  when  asked  what 
 he  was — "  I  am  a — Christian,  and  love  the 
 Lord  Jesus  with  all  my  heart."  "  Oh, 
 then,"  said  the  Saviour,  "  ;i/ou  may  walk 
 all  about  heaven,  and  hither  and  thither 
 just  as  it  pleases  you."  S.  Rogers. 
 
 HEAVEN— a  City. 
 
 A  city  never  built  with  hands,  nor  hoary 
 with  the  years  of  time ;  a  city  whose  in- 
 habitants no  census  has  numbered ;  a  city 
 through  whose  streets  rush  no  tide  of  busi- 
 ness, nor  nodding  hearse  creeps  slowly  with 
 its  burden  to  the  tomb;  a  city  witliout 
 griefs  or  graves,  without  sins  or  sorrows, 
 without  births  or  burials,  without  marriages 
 or  mournings ;  a  city  which  glories  in  hav- 
 ing Jesus  for  its  king,  angels  for  its  guards, 
 saints  for  citizens ;  whose  walls  are  salva- 
 tion, and  whose  gates  are  praise. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 The  appearance,  instantaneously  disclosed. 
 Was  of  a  mighty  city — boldly  say 
 A  wilderness  of  building,  sinking  far, 
 And  self-withdrawn  into  a  wondrous  depth. 
 Far  sinking  into  splendour  without  end  ! 
 Fabric  it  seemed  of  diamond  and  of  gold, 
 Witli  alabaster  domes  and  silver  spires. 
 And  blazing  terrace  upon  terrace,  high 
 Uplifted  :  here,  serene  pavilions  bright 
 In  avenues  disposed  :  there,  towers  begirt 
 With  battlements,  that  on  their  restless 
 
 fronts 
 Bore  stars — illumination  of  all  gems. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 HEAVEN— Conditions  of  going  to. 
 
 Here  must  be  the  heir,  if  yonder  be  his 
 inheritance.  Here  must  be  the  labourer, 
 if  yonder  be  his  rest.  Here  must  be  the 
 candidate,  if  yonder  be  his  retoard.  As  he 
 now  adds  excellence  to  excellence,  as  he  is 
 not  "  barren  nor  unfruitful,"  "  so  shall  an 
 entrance  be  ministered  to  him  abundantly 
 into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord 
 and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 
 
 Dr.  R.  W.  Eamilton. 
 
 HEAVEN — Contemplation  of. 
 
 As  Daniel,  in  his  captivity,  daily  opened 
 his  window  towards  Jerusalem,  though  far 
 out  of  sight,  when  he  went  to  God  in  his 
 devotions,  so  may  the  believing  soul,  in  his 
 captivity  of  the  flesh  look  towards  "  Jeru- 
 salem which  is  above."  And  as  Paul  was 
 to  the  Colossians,  so  may  the  believer  be 
 
 427 
 
 with  the  glorified  spirits,  "  though  absent 
 in  the  flesh,  yet  with  them  in  the  Spirit, 
 joying  and  beholding  tlieir  heavenly  order." 
 And  as  the  lark  sweetly  sings  while  she 
 soars  on  high,  but  is  suddenly  silenced 
 when  she  falls  to  the  earth,  so  is  the  frame 
 of  the  soul  most  delightful  and  divine  while 
 it  keeps  in  the  view  of  God  by  contem- 
 plation. Alas,  we  make  there  too  short 
 a  stay ;  fall  down  again,  and  lay  by  our 
 music.  Baxter. 
 
 HEAVEN— Contention  in. 
 
 A  minister  once  asked  his  Sunday-school 
 children,  "  If  there  should  be  any  such  thing 
 as  contention  in  heaven,  what  they  thought 
 it  would  be  about  ?  "  "  O,  sir,"  they  replied, 
 "  there  will  be  no  strife  there."  "  Well,  but 
 supposing  there  should  be  such  a  thing,  what 
 do  you  think  it  would  be  about?"  "  Well, 
 sir,"  said  one,  "  I  suppose,  if  there  be  any 
 contention,  it  will  be  who  shall  get  nearest 
 to  Jesus  Christ."  Anon. 
 
 HEAVEN— No  Controversy  in. 
 
 We  shall  drop  our  contentions  about 
 Trinity  and  Unity,  about  free-will  and  con- 
 straining election,  when  we  reach  heaven. 
 We  may  not  understand,  even  to  eternity, 
 the  constitution  of  the  Infinite  personality ; 
 hut  alienation  on  account  of  mental  mea- 
 surings  of  substantial  truth  will  not  obtain 
 there.  There  will  be  no  reverend  angels 
 to  preach  on  such  themes  as.  Why  am  I 
 a  Calvinist,  a  Baptist,  or  an  Episcopalian  ? 
 But  no  doubt  we  shall  still  be  ranged  there, 
 as  here,  by  the  sentiments  to  which  we 
 most  naturally  give  utterance.  And  we 
 shall  see  there,  doubtless,  what  need  there 
 is  of  the  utmost  power  of  every  party  to 
 celebrate  the  circle  of  the  Divine  glory  j 
 how  deep  is  the  justice,  how  broad  tlie 
 providence,  how  high  the  love,  that  must 
 be  acknowledged  in  the  trained  harmony 
 of  heavenly  hosannas.  T.  S.  King. 
 
 HEAVEN— No  death  in. 
 
 "  The  city  which  God  has  prepared "  is 
 as  imperishable  in  its  inhabitants  as  its 
 materials.  Its  pearl,  its  jasper,  its  pure 
 gold,  are  only  immortal  to  frame  the  abode 
 of  immortals.  No  cry  of  death  is  in  any 
 of  its  dwellings.  No  funeral  darkens  along 
 any  of  its  ways.  No  sepulchre  of  the  holiest 
 relics  gleams  among  the  everlasting  hills. 
 "  Violence  is  not  heard  in  the  land." 
 "  There  is  no  more  death."  It  is  destroyed 
 and  obliterated.  Its  last  ensign  has  dis- 
 appeared. Its  very  name  has  perished. 
 "  Is  swallowed  up  in  victory." 
 
 Dr.  E.  W.  Eamilton. 
 
 HEAVEN— Degrees  in. 
 
 But  it  may  be  objected,  that  if  there  be 
 degrees  of  glory  in  heaven,  some  shall 
 want  glory.    Not  so;  though  some  have 
 
428 
 
 more  and  some  have  less,  j'et  all  shall  have 
 sufficient.  Take  several  vessels,  whereof 
 some  are  bigger,  and  some  less,  and  cast 
 them  all  into  the  sea ;  some  will  receive 
 more  water  and  some  less  (according  to 
 their  capacity)  and  yet  all  shall  be  full  and 
 no  want  in  any :  and  so  likewise  among 
 the  saints  of  God  in  heaven,  some  shall 
 have  more  glory,  some  less,  and  yet  all 
 without  exception,  full  of  glovy. 
 
 fr.  Perkins. 
 HEAVEN— Dignity  in. 
 
 When  Cyneas  the  ambassador  of  Pyr- 
 thus,  after  his  return  from  Rome,  was 
 asked  by  his  master  what  he  thought  of 
 the  city  and  state,  he  answered  and  said, 
 That  it  seemed  to  him  to  be  a  state  of 
 none  but  great  statesmen,  and  a  common- 
 wealth of  kings.  Such  is  heaven  ;  no  other 
 than  a  parliament  of  emperors,  and  a  com- 
 monwealth of  kings;  every  humble,  faith- 
 ful soul  in  that  kingdom  is  co-heir  with 
 Christ,  hath  a  robe  of  honour  and  a  sceptre 
 of  power,  and  a  throne  of  majesty,  and  a 
 crown  of  glory.  Spencer. 
 
 HEAVEN— Drawbacks  from. 
 
 As  it  is  but  foolish  childishness  that 
 makes  children  so  delight  in  baubles  that 
 they  would  not  leave  them  for  all  your 
 lands,  so  it  is  but  foolish  worldliness,  and 
 flesliliness,  and  wickedness,  that  makes 
 you  so  much  delight  in  your  houses,  and 
 lands,  and  meat,  and  drink,  and  ease,  and 
 honour,  as  that  you  would  not  part  with 
 them  for  heavenly  delights.  But  what 
 will  you  do  for  pleasure  when  these  are 
 gone  ?  Do  you  not  think  of  that  ?  When 
 your  pleasures  end  in  horror,  and  go  out 
 like  a  taper,  the  pleasures  of  the  saints  are 
 then  at  their  best.  Baxter. 
 
 HEAVEN— Eternity  in 
 
 There's  no  last  time  in  heaven !  the  angels 
 
 pour 
 A  still  new  song,  though  chanted  evermore. 
 There's  no  night  following  on  their  day- 
 light hours. 
 
 No  fading  time  for  amaranthine  flowers ; 
 No  change,  no  death,  no   harp  that   lies 
 
 unstrung, 
 No    vacant    place     those    hallowed    hills 
 
 among  !  R.  Montgomery. 
 
 Suppose  the  whole  world  were  a  sea,  and 
 that  when  every  thousand  years  expired^  a 
 bird  must  carry  away  or  drink  up  oidy  one 
 drop  of  it ;  in  process  of  time  it  will  come 
 to  pass  that  this  sea,  though  very  huge, 
 shall  be  dried  up,  but  yet  many  thousand 
 millions  of  years  must  be  passed  before 
 this  can  be  done.  Now,  if  a  man  should 
 enjoy  happiness  in  heaven  only  for  the 
 space  of  time  in  which  this  sea  is  drying 
 ujj,  he  would  think  his  case  most  happy  | 
 
 and  blessed;  but,  behold,  the  elect  shall 
 enjoy  the  kingdom  of  heaven  not  only  for 
 that  time,  but  when  it  is  ended,  they  shall 
 enjoy  it  as  long  again,  and  when  all  is 
 done,  they  shall  be  as  far  from  ending  of 
 this  their  joy,  as  they  were  at  the  be- 
 giuning.  W.  Perkins. 
 
 HEAVEN— Excellence  of. 
 
 If  earth,  that  is  provided  for  mortality, 
 and  is  possessed  by  the  Maker's  enemies, 
 have  so  much  pleasure  in  it,  that  world- 
 lings think  it  worth  the  account  of  their 
 heaven,  what  must  heaven  needs  be,  that 
 is  provided  for  God  Himself,  and  His 
 friends  ?  How  can  it  be  less  in  worth, 
 than  God  is  above  His  creatures,  and 
 God's  friends  better  than  His  enemies. 
 
 £p.  Sail. 
 HEAVEN— Freedom  in. 
 
 Now  is  the  deliverance  of  the  soul  com- 
 plete, its  bands  are  fallen  off;  it  is  per- 
 fectly disentangled  from  all  the  snares  of 
 death,  in  which  it  was  formerly  held;  it  is 
 under  no  restraints,  oppressed  by  no 
 weights,  held  down  by  no  clogs.  It  hath 
 free  exercise  of  all  its  powers;  hath  every 
 faculty  and  aft'ection  at  command.  How 
 inconceivable  a  pleasure  is  this !  With 
 what  delight  doth  the  poor  prisoner  enter- 
 tain himself  when  his  manacles  and  fetters 
 are  knocked  off;  when  he  is  enlarged  from 
 his  loathsome  dungeon  and  the  house  of 
 his  bondage ;  breatlies  in  a  free  air ;  can 
 dispose  of  himself  ancl  walk  at  lilDerty 
 wliither  he  will.  The  bird  escaped  from 
 his  cage,  or  freed  from  his  line  and  stone 
 that  resisted  its  vain  and  too  feeble  strug- 
 glings  before;  how  pleasantly  doth  it 
 range!  with  what  joy  doth  it  clap  its 
 wings  and  take  its  flight !  A  faint  emblem 
 of  the  joy  wherewith  that  pleasant  cheerful 
 note  shall  one  day  be  sung  and  chanted 
 forth,  "  Our  soul  is  escaped,  as  a  bird  out 
 of  the  snare  of  the  fowler;  the  snare  is 
 broken  and  we  are  escaped."  There  is 
 now  no  place  for  such  a  complaint,  "I 
 would,  but  I  cannot;  I  would  turn  my 
 thoughts  to  glorious  objects,  but  I  cannot." 
 The  blessed  soul  feels  itself  free  from  all 
 confinement;  nothing  resists  its  will,  as 
 its  will  doth  never  resist  the  will  of  God. 
 It  knows  no  limits,  no  restraints;  is  not 
 tied  up  to  this  or  that  particular  good; 
 but  expatiates  freely  in  the  immense  uni- 
 versal all-comprehending  goodness  of  God 
 Himself.  John  Rowe. 
 
 HEAVEN— Friendships  of. 
 
 Man  is  constituted  to  be  happy  in  society. 
 Place  him  in  solitude,  and  however  exciting 
 and  felicitous  are  his  circumstances  in  other 
 respects,  he  will  wither  and  pine  away. 
 But  above,  we  shall  be  with  the  many  that 
 shall  come  from  the  east,  and  west,  and 
 north,  and  south,  and  shall  sit  down  with 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 429 
 
 Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  The  entire 
 heaven  of  angels,  and  the  whole  host  of  the 
 redeemed,  we  shall  have  sweet  and  improv- 
 ing fellowship  with  for  ever !  The  wise  and 
 the  good,  the  great  and  the  pure,  the  be- 
 nevolent and  active,  from  every  region, 
 will  be  our  companions  and  associates,  with 
 whom  we  shall  live,  and  love,  and  know, 
 and  obey,  through  one  eternally  enduring 
 day.  Of  all  the  afflictions  to  which  we  are 
 liable,  there  is  none  so  painful  as  the  death 
 of  our  friends.  And,  oh  !  what  a  consoling 
 balm  is  the  doctrine  that  we  shall,  in  the 
 realms  above,  be  restored  to  their  fellow- 
 ship. This  doctrine  is  involved  in  many 
 passages  of  Scripture;  in  the  account  of 
 the  last  judgment — in  the  language  of 
 David  on  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  his 
 infant  child  by  Bathsheba— in  the  parable 
 of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus — in  the  con- 
 solation which  our  Saviour  gives  to  the 
 penitent  sinner  on  the  cross — in  the  assur- 
 ance administered  by  the  apostle  St.  Paul 
 to  the  Thessalonian  believers,  that  they 
 should  be  his  joy  and  crown  of  rejoicing  in 
 the  presence  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at 
 His  coming — and  in  the  same  apostle  for- 
 bidding them  to  sorrow  for  such  as  had 
 fallen  asleep  as  though  they  had  no  hope 
 of  being  united  with  them,  and  of  being 
 together  with  the  Lord — and  in  the  general 
 use  which  the  sacred  writers  make  of  the 
 woi-d  sleej)  for  death — a  simile  which  would 
 be  flagrantly  incorrect  if  our  recollections, 
 our  friendships  and  afteclions,  were  not 
 renewed  in  a  future  state.  And,  in  general, 
 the  same  doctrine  is  taught  also  through 
 the  whole  book  of  the  Revelations  of  St. 
 John.  Happy  prospect,  that  exalts  friend- 
 ship into  religion  !  What  blest  society 
 there  will  be  above !  Br.  Beaumont. 
 
 HEAVEN— Foretokens  of. 
 
 Let  the  traveller,  however  remote  his 
 stray,  find  something  congenial  to  his  own 
 latitude  and  country,  and  the  sense  of 
 alienation  is  redeemed.  Should  he  unex- 
 pectedly discover  the  daisy  of  his  native 
 fields,  or  catch  the  wood-note  that  had 
 carolled  from  his  native  groves — should  he 
 hear  his  mother  tongue — should  he  enjoy 
 the  right  and  protection  of  some  institu- 
 tion at  which  his  youthful  heart  had  learnt 
 to  bound — though  the  earth's  diameter 
 struck  through  between  his  sojourn  and 
 his  own  land,  even  that  sojourn  would  only 
 be  less  to  him  than  home.  And  the  Chris- 
 tian has  now  much  akin  to  heaven.  His 
 heart  is  there.  Eternal  life  abides  in  him. 
 Now  he  possesses  the  principles  which 
 heaven  but  matures,  and  cherishes  the 
 affections  which  it  but  expands. 
 
 Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 HEAVEN— fonght  for. 
 
 Julius    Cffisar    comintr    towards  Eome 
 
 with  his  army,  and  hearing  the  senate  and 
 people  had  fled  from  it,  said,  "  They  that 
 will  not  fight  for  this  city,  what  city  will 
 they  fight  for?"  If  we  will  not  take 
 pains  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  what 
 kingdom  will  we  take  pains  for  ? 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 HEAVEN— Fruition  of. 
 
 If  I  am  allowed  to  give  a  metaphorical 
 allusion  to  the  future  state  of  the  blessed, 
 I  should  image  it  by  the  orange-grove  in 
 that  sheltered  glen  on  which  the  sun  is 
 now  beginning  to  shine,  and  of  which  the 
 trees  are,  at  the  same  time,  loaded  with 
 sweet  golden  fruit  and  balmy  silver 
 flowers.  Such  objects  may  well  portray 
 a  state  in  which  hope  and  fruition  become 
 one  eternal  feeling.     Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 
 
 HEAVEN— God  in. 
 
 It  is  the  presence  of  the  king  that  makes 
 the  court,  let  the  house  be  never  so  mean 
 in  which  he  resides.  Heaven  itself  is  not 
 heaven,  merely  because  its  scenes  and 
 associations  are  congenial  and  inviting  to 
 our  spirits.  He  that  shall  read  in  the 
 book  of  the  Revelation,  of  a  city,  or  place 
 that  has  no  temple  in  it,  nor  no  sun  or 
 moon  to  shine  in  it,  and  then  break  otf, 
 would  sooner  conjecture  that  he  was  be- 
 ginning the  description  of  some  forlorn 
 place  under  the  northern  jxjle  than  of  the 
 heavenly  Jerusalem.  But  when  he  shall 
 understand  that  God  and  the  Lamb  are 
 the  temple  of  it,  and  the  glory  of  God  and 
 the  Lamb  the  eternal  shining  in  it,  he  will 
 then  say,  as  an  awaked  Jacob,  "Surely 
 this  is  none  other  than  the  house  of  God, 
 and  the  place  where  He  Himself  dwelleth." 
 Spurston. 
 
 The  presence  of  God  in  the  most  miser- 
 able places  that  can  be,  were  a  greater 
 happiness  than  the  absence  of  God  in  the 
 most  glorious  place  that  can  be.  David 
 would  not  be  afraid,  though  he  walked  in 
 the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  so  that 
 God  were  with  him.  Luther  would  rather 
 be  in  hell  with  God's  presence,  than  in 
 heaven,  God  being  absent.  If  the  presence 
 of  God  takes  away  the  dread  of  the  shadow 
 of  the  valley  of  death,  and  makes  hell  to 
 be  more  desired  than  heaven,  what  will 
 the  presence  of  God  make  heaven  to  be  ? 
 The  three  children  in  the  fiery  furnace, 
 with  God's  presence,  were  happy.  How 
 happy,  then,  are  the  saints  with  God's 
 presence  in  heaven !  J.  Burroughs. 
 
 HEAVEN— Glory  of. 
 
 The  glory  of  heaven  is  such  that  it  can 
 never  be  fiilly  known,  till  it  be  fully  en- 
 joyed. And  yet  if  heaven  were  ever  made 
 crystally  transparent  to  you,  if  ever  God 
 opened  you  a  window  into  it,  and  tlieu 
 
430 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 opened  the  eye  of  your  faith  to  look  in  by 
 that  window,  think  what  it  was  that  you 
 there  discovered,  what  inaccessible  light, 
 what  cherishing  love,  what  daunting  ma- 
 jesty, what  infinite  purity,  what  ovei-load- 
 ing  joy,  what  insupportable  and  sinking 
 glory,  what  rays  and  sparklings  from 
 crowns  and  sceptres !  But  more,  from  the 
 glances  and  smiles  of  God  upon  the 
 heavenly  host,  who  for  ever  warm  and  sun 
 themselves  in  His  presence  ;  and  when  you 
 have  thought  all  this,  then  think  once  again 
 that  all  your  thoughts  are  but  shadows 
 and  glimmerings,  that  there  is  dust  and 
 ashes  in  the  eye  of  your  faith  that  makes 
 all  these  discoveries  come  infinitely  short 
 of  the  native  glory  of  these  things;  and 
 then  you  may  guess,  and  somewhat  near, 
 what  heaven  is.  Bp.  Kophins. 
 
 Let  a  man  take  a  survey  as  far,  as  wide, 
 as  deep,  and  as  minute  as  his  mind  will 
 enable  him,  of  the  beauties,  the  sublimities, 
 and  the  magnificence  of  all  the  works  of 
 God  and  of  man  as  they  lie  out  on  the 
 broad  surface,  and  in  the  great  depths  of 
 earth,  and  ask.  If  such  are  the  glories 
 which  compose  and  enshrine  the  footstool 
 and  the  vestibule,  what  must  the  glories 
 be  which  adorn  and  compose  the  palace — 
 the  abode  of  the  throne  ?  If  the  work- 
 manship of  the  outer  court  is  so  superb, 
 what  must  that  be  which  is  exhibited 
 within  the  Holiest  itself?  John  Bate. 
 
 HEAVEN— Happiness  of. 
 
 Saints  in  heaven  are  perfectly  happy, 
 because  perfectly  holy.  Here  they  taste 
 of  the  streams  that  flow  from  the  infinite 
 fulness  of  their  Father  and  their  God; 
 there  they  will  have  to  come  to  the  Foun- 
 tain itself.  Here  they  receive,  now  and 
 then,  a  bunch  of  grapes  from  the  better 
 Canaan  ;  there  they  will  have  full  and  free 
 access  to  the  Tree  of  Life  that  is  in  the 
 paradise  of  God.  Here  they  obtain  an 
 occasional  glimpse  through  the  entangle- 
 ment of  the  wilderness,  and  through  the 
 mists  and  fogs  that  hang  over  Jordan,  and 
 see  the  green  fields  and  the  golden  har- 
 vests, that  wave  luxuriant  and  vast  on  the 
 other  side ;  there  they  will  possess  the 
 vineyards  and  well-springs  of  a  perpetual 
 Canaan.  Here  they  are  sometimes  revived 
 by  sweet  odours,  wafted  over  from  the 
 mountains  of  spices,  that  lie  on  the  other 
 side  the  lions'  dens,  and  leopards'  haunts, 
 among  which  they  at  present  pass ;  there, 
 every  peril  is  past,  and  having  entered 
 through  the  gates  into  the  city,  all  is 
 peace,  triumph,  and  perfection.  Here  they 
 have  many  a  troubled,  many  a  stormy,  and 
 many  a  cloudy  day  ;  there  they  shall  have 
 everlasting  joy  and  gladness  on  their  heads; 
 and  sorrow  and  sighing,  and  clouds  and 
 shadows,  and  storms  and  tempests,  having 
 
 for  ever  fled  away,  they  shall  abide  under 
 a  cloudless  sky,  in  regions  of  eternal  bliss. 
 In  this  land  of  their  captivity  they  may 
 hang  their  harps  upon  the  willows,  and, 
 yielding  to  sorrows  which  fill  their  hearts, 
 forget  to  sing  the  Lord's  song ;  but  in  that 
 land  of  accomplished  promise  and  finished 
 hope,  their  harps  shall  be  ever  in  their 
 hands,  and  the  high  praises  of  God  in  their 
 mouths,  to  fill  with  their  transports  of 
 gratitude  and  joy  the  palace  of  their  King 
 and  their  God.  If  every  step  here  is 
 through  a  vale  of  tears,  there  it  is  through 
 a  land  of  pure  delight.  In  the  house  of 
 their  Father  above,  they  shall  hunger  no 
 more,  nor  thirst  any  more,  neither  shall 
 the  sun  light  upon  them,  nor  any  heat. 
 And  if  any  recollection  of  former  sufferings 
 remain,  it  will  serve  only  to  enhance  their 
 enjoyments,  and  augment  their  wonder,  as 
 they  view  the  intricate  mazes  through 
 which  Divine  wisdom  conducted  them. 
 Our  happiness  will  be  made  complete  by 
 beholding  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
 glory,  in  the  vision  of  which  we  shall  re- 
 joice with  joy  unspeakable ;  by  the  pre- 
 sence of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
 Christ !  Yes,  there  we  shall  see  Jesus — 
 shall  behold  the  God-man,  our  Friend,  our 
 Priest,  our  Sacrifice,  our  All.  Then  we 
 shall  love  in  return  for  all  His  infinite  love  j 
 and  bless  and  worship  Him  with  a  growing 
 adoration,  and  dilating  gratitude,  for  ever 
 and  ever.  It  will,  indeed,  be  heaven  to 
 see  our  Jesus'  face!  0  the  infinitude  of 
 our  bliss !  when  we  shall  see  Him  as  He 
 is,  and  love  with  a  passion  like  His !  O 
 that  exquisiteness  of  joy  !— those  gusts  of 
 pure  perennial  bliss,  which  the  saints  of 
 God  will  experience,  in  singing  praises  and 
 songs  of  deliverance  to  God  and  the  Lamb 
 for  ever  !  O  what  rapture  to  be  engaged 
 in  penetrating  the  mysteries  of  Providence ; 
 in  listening  to  the  music  of  the  spheres, 
 and  the  jubilee  of  the  universe  !  in  gazing 
 with  untold  ectasy  on  the  face  of  God  and 
 the  Lamb,  and  deriving  from  Him,  who  is 
 the  Sea  of  light  and  love,  fulness  of  joy, 
 and  pleasures  for  evermore !  "  But  eye 
 hath  not  seen,  ear  hath  not  heard,  neither 
 hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to 
 conceive,  what  God  hath  laid  up  for  them 
 that  love  Him."  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 HEAVEN— a  Home. 
 
 Home!  oh,  how  sweet  is  that  word! 
 What  beautiful  and  tender  associations 
 cluster  thick  around  it :  compated  with  it 
 house,  mansion,  palace,  are  cold,  heartless 
 terms.  But  home !  that  word  quickens 
 the  pulse,  warms  the  heart,  stirs  the  soul 
 to  its  depths,  makes  age  feel  young  again, 
 rouses  apathy  into  energy,  sustains  the 
 sailor  in  his  midnight  watch,  inspires  the 
 soldier  with  courage  on  the  field  of  battle, 
 and   imparts    patient    endurance    to    the 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 431 
 
 worn-down  sons  of  toil.  The  thonght  of  it 
 has  proved  a  sevenfold  shield  to  virtue; 
 the  very  name  of  it  has  been  a  spell  to  call 
 back  the  wanderer  from  the  paths  of  vice ; 
 and  far  away,  where  myrtles  bloom  and 
 palm  trees  wave,  and  the  ocean  sleeps  upon 
 coral  strands,  to  the  exile's  fond  fancy  it 
 clothes  the  naked  rock,  or  stormy  shore,  or 
 barren  moor,  or  wild  highland  mountain, 
 with  charms  he  weeps  to  thinks  of,  and 
 longs  once  more  to  see.  Grace  sanctifies 
 these  lovely  affections  and  imparts  a  sacred- 
 ness  to  the  homes  of  earth  by  making  them 
 types  of  heaven.  As  a  home  the  believer 
 delights  to  think  of  it.  Thus  when,  lately 
 bending  over  a  dying  saint,  and  expressing 
 our  sorrow  to  see  him  lay  so  low,  with  the 
 radiant  countenance  rather  of  one  who  had 
 just  left  heaven  than  of  one  about  to  enter 
 it,  he  raised  and  clasped  his  hands,  and  ex- 
 claimed in  ecstasy,  " I  am  going  home." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 O  gentle  heaven ! 
 Art  thou  indeed  the  home, — the   happy 
 
 shore. 
 Where  creatures  wearied  of  this  earth  are 
 
 driven, — 
 Where  hate  is  not, — where  envy  cannot 
 
 soar. 
 And  nought  save  unimaginable  Love, 
 And  tenderest  Peace  (a  white  and  winged 
 
 dove), 
 And  beauty  and  perennial  bloom  are  seen, 
 And  angels  breathing  in  Elysian  air 
 Divinest  music,  and  young  shapes   more 
 
 fair 
 Than  Houris  pacing  soft  thro'  pathways 
 
 ever  green  ?  Cornwall. 
 
 HEAVEN— our  Home. 
 
 A  man  should  be  bound  for  home,  as  it 
 were,  as  you  see  all  creatures  be.  Let  a 
 stone  be  removed  from  home,  from  the 
 centre,  let  it  be  put  out  of  its  place,  it 
 will  never  be  quiet  till  it  be  home  again. 
 Let  a  bird  be  far  from  the  nest  and  it 
 grows  towards  night,  she  will  home  even 
 upon  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Let  every 
 poor  beast,  and  every  creature,  though  the 
 entertainment  be  but  slender  at  home,  yet 
 if  you  let  it  slip  loose,  it  will  home  as  fast 
 as  it  can.  Everything  tends  to  its  place; 
 there  is  its  safety,  there  is  its  rest,  there  it 
 is  preserved,  there  it  is  quiet.  Now,  thus 
 it  is  so  with  every  creature,  why  should  it 
 not  be  so  with  us  ?  Why  should  we  not 
 be  for  our  home?  This  my  brethren  is 
 not  our  home,  here  is  not  our  rest.  There 
 is  our  home,  where  our  chief  friends  be, 
 where  our  Father  God  is,  where  our  hus- 
 band Christ  is,  where  our  chief  kindred 
 and  acquaintance  be,  all  the  prophets,  and 
 apostles,  and  martyrs  of  God  departed  are, 
 that  is  our  home,  and  thither  should  we 
 go.  Sibhes. 
 
 HEAVEN— our  Home. 
 
 Why  do  we  not  go  home?  Why  are 
 we  like  a  silly  child  that,  when  his  father 
 sends  him  forth,  and  bids  him  hie  him 
 home  again,  every  flower  that  he  meets 
 with  in  the  field,  every  sign  he  sees  in  the 
 street,  every  companion  that  meets  him  in 
 the  way,  stops  him,  and  hinders  him  from 
 repairing  to  his  father  ?  So  it  is  with  us 
 for  the  most  part;  every  trifle,  every 
 profit,  every  bauble,  every  matter  of  plea- 
 sure, every  delight,  is  enough  to  divert  and 
 turn  aside  our  thoughts  from  death,  from 
 home,  from  heaven,  from  our  God,  and  we 
 are  taken  up  and  lose  ourselves,  I  know 
 not  where.  Sibbes. 
 
 HEAVEN— Hope  of. 
 
 What  has  been  the  great  and  what  is 
 now  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  influ- 
 ential powers  or  motives  in  the  human 
 heart  ?  A  desire  to  find  some  better  place, 
 some  lovelier  spot,  than  we  now  have.  For 
 what  does  the  tradesman  toil?  for  what 
 does  the  physician  practise  ?  for  what  does 
 man  hope  at  the  decline  and  the  close  of 
 life?  Some  sheltered  nook,  some  quiet 
 spot,  where,  if  he  cannot  have  a  rest  that 
 will  never  be  moved,  he  may  have,  at  least, 
 a  foretaste  and  foreshadow  of  it.  What 
 was  it  that  carried  Columbus  across  the 
 western  wave,  amid  insubordination  within 
 his  ship,  and  the  unexpectedly  wild  waves 
 that  roared  and  curled  around  and  with- 
 out ?  What  sustained  him  on  the  un- 
 sounded sea,  amid  the  untraversed  waste 
 of  waters  ?  The  hope  of  a  better  country. 
 What  was  it  that  sustained  the  hearts  of 
 the  pilgrim  fathers  when,  driven  forth  from 
 this  land  by  stern  ecclesiastical  persecution, 
 they  went  to  the  far  distance,  and  across 
 the  western  wave,  and  feared  not  the  iron- 
 bound  coast  or  the  rugged  and  the  unknown 
 territory  on  which  they  set  foot  ?  It  was 
 the  hope  and  prospect  of  a  better,  even  a 
 free  and  peaceful  country.     Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 HEAVEN— Inhabitants  of. 
 
 What  a  heaven-full  of  princely  creatures 
 the  Eternal  Father  will  have,  when  all  the. 
 redeemed  shall  be  presented  to  Him  in  the 
 brightness  of  His  Son's  glory,  even  as  His 
 Son  is  the  brightness  of  His  glory  ?  Christ 
 has  said :  "  They  will  shine  like  so  many 
 suns,  in  the  kingdom  of  the  Father."  A 
 whole  heaven-full  of  glorious-bodied  crea- 
 tures, each  one  emitting  a  splendour  like 
 the  glorious  body  of  the  Lord.  "  We  are 
 now  the  sons  of  God,  but  it  doth  not  yet 
 appear  what  we  shall  be." 
 
 Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 HEAVEN— Inquiries  about. 
 
 "  My  chief  conception  of  heaven,"  said 
 Robert   Hall    to  Wilberforce,   "  is  rest." 
 
432 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 "Mine,"  replied  Wilberforce,  "is  love." 
 Perhaps  both  conceptions  are  true;  and 
 union  of  perfect  love  with  perfect  rest 
 convej's  our  best  ideu  of  heaven,  considered 
 simply  as  a  state.  But  what  is  the  manner 
 of  existence  there,  and  what  is  the  true 
 physical  theory  of  another  life  ?  How 
 shall  we  see  without  these  eyes,  hear  with- 
 out these  ears,  act  without  this  material  in- 
 strument of  being  ?  What  are  the  visions, 
 the  emotions,  the  specific  employments  of 
 heaven?  Where  and  what  is  the  region 
 itself?  Is  it  a  star?  Is  it  a  sun?  Is  it 
 a  vast  and  splendid  cluster  of  worlds,  or  is 
 it  some  spacious,  magnificent,  and  unlimited 
 continent  of  light  and  beauty  ?  Where  are 
 "  the  holy  places  not  made  with  hands  ?" 
 Where  are  "  the  many  mansions  of  our 
 Father's  house  ?"  Where  is  the  grand 
 metropolis  of  God's  moral  rule,  whence  His 
 laws  go  forth,  and  "  whither  the  tribes  go 
 np,  the  tribes  of  the  Lord,"  from  every 
 realm  of  earth,  and  every  age  of  time  ? 
 Where  stands  that  throne  before  which,  at 
 this  solemn  instant,  the  innumerable  com- 
 panies of  the  glorified  bend  in  an  ecstasy 
 of  adoration  ?  The  Heir  of  Glory  dies — 
 "  He  giveth  up  the  ghost,  and  where  is 
 He?''  These  questions  are  unanswered 
 and  unanswerable. 
 
 "  He  that  hath  found  some  fledged  bird's 
 nest  may  know 
 At  first  sight  if  the  bird  be  flown ; 
 But  what  fair  field  or  grove  he  sings  in 
 now, 
 That  is  to  him  unknown."    C.  Stanford. 
 
 HEAVEN— Interest  of. 
 
 The  whole  court  of  heaven  waits  for  us  ; 
 let  us  long  for  that  blessed  society  with 
 a  hearty  aff'ection.  The  saints  look  for 
 our  coming,  desiring  to  have  the  number 
 of  the  elect  fulfilled;  the  angels  blush 
 •when  they  see  us  stumble,  grieve  when  we 
 fall,  clap  their  wings  with  joy  when  we  go 
 cheerfully  forward ;  our  Saviour  stands  on 
 the  battlements  of  heaven,  and  with  the 
 hand  of  help  and  comfort  wafteth  us  to 
 Him.  T.  Ada>ns. 
 
 HEAVEN— the  Land  of  the  Living. 
 
 A  dying  lady  once  said  to  her  brother, 
 who  was  about  to  take  his  leave  of  her 
 without  any  hope  of  seeing  her  again  in 
 this  world, — "Brother,  I  trust  we  shall 
 meet  in  the  land  of  the  living.  We  are 
 now  in  the  laud  of  the  dying." 
 
 John  Bate. 
 HEAVEN— Longing  for. 
 
 It  appears  from  the  life  of  the  poet 
 Southey,  that  he  had,  at  times,  a  wish  to 
 leave  the  world,  but  it  seems  to  have  been 
 chiefly  for  the  sake  of  enjoying  the  intel- 
 lectual society  of  a  future  state.  Heaven 
 was  iu  his  view,  the  home  of  genius,  where 
 
 all  the  gifted  spirits  of  our  race  hold  ex- 
 alted fellowship.  He  longed  to  see  and 
 converse  with  Shakespeare,  Dante,  and 
 Chaucer.  .John  Foster,  a  man  whose  cha- 
 racter and  thoughts  were  cast  in  a  far 
 different  mould,  felt  in  this  world  that  he 
 was  under  restraint ;  that  the  great  secrets 
 of  the  spiritual  universe  were  hid  from 
 him ;  that  death  would  break  down  the 
 barrier,  and  would  give  his  spirit  free  scope 
 to  plunge  into  the  mysteries  of  truth.  His 
 sublime  soul  was  like  a  courser  panting  to 
 leap  the  barrier;  like  an  eagle  dragging 
 at  its  chain,  and  longing  to  soar  above  the 
 clouds.  Leighton's  desire  was  strictly  and 
 simply  spiritual.  It  was  a  longing  for 
 purity,  love,  perfection,  Christ  and  Goth 
 He  felt  this  was  a  dark  world,  because  a 
 sinful  one,  and  he  longed  for  a  holy  heaven 
 more  than  they  who  watch  for  the  morning; 
 saying,  "  The  utmost  we  poor  mortals  can 
 attain  to  is  to  lie  awake  in  the  dark ;  and 
 a  great  piece  of  art  and  patience  is  to 
 while  away  the  hours  of  night."  He  de- 
 lighted in  the  old  apothegm,  "The  day 
 which  you  fear  as  the  death-day  of  time,  is 
 the  birth' day  of  eternity."  His  alacrity 
 to  depart,  resulted  from  his  earnest  desire 
 to  see  and  enjoy  perfection,  in  the  perfect 
 sense  of  it,  which  he  could  not  do  and  live. 
 J.  Stoughton, 
 
 Oh  !  bring  us  home  at  last. 
 
 Thou  who  didst  guide  us  when  our  morn 
 was  bright ; 
 Darkness  is  falling  fast, 
 
 Gather   Thy  childi-en  home  before  the 
 night. 
 
 Oh  !  bring  us  home  at  last. 
 
 The  evening  mists  steal  o'er  us,  damp 
 and  chill, 
 While  autumn's  moaning  blast 
 
 Sweeps  in  sad  music  over  vale  and  hiU. 
 
 Oh !  bring  us  home  at  last. 
 
 Have    we    much   further    through   the 
 nig'at  to  go  ? 
 Have  we  not  almost  pass'd 
 
 The  wilderness?     Thou  wilt  not  leave 
 
 Oh  !  bring  us  home  at  last. 
 
 Our  Father !     Bid  our  weary  wanderings 
 cease. 
 Uplift  the  veil  o'ercast 
 
 Between  our  spirits  and  the  home  of 
 peace.  Anon. 
 
 HEAVEN— Looking  for. 
 
 With  what  eager  thoughts,  ardent  aspi- 
 rations, do  men  look  forward  to  the  attain- 
 ment of  some  cherished  hope  or  prize,  or 
 treasure,  for  which,  as  the  case  may  be, 
 they  have  wisely  or  unwisely  toiled !  The 
 money-seeker  for  the  day  when  he  shall 
 collect  and  store  his  coveted  heaps.     The 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 433 
 
 flistorian  for  the  day  when  his  hoarded 
 facts,  his  lettered  lore,  shall  be  compiled 
 into  a  volume.  The  architect  for  the  hour 
 ■when  the  last  plank  of  scaftbldiug  shall  be 
 removed  from  the  building  on  which  he 
 expects  his  renown  to  rest.  The  sculptor 
 for  tlie  last  touch  put  on  the  breathing 
 marble,  that  he  may  set  it  among  the 
 finished  works  of  his  studio.  Equally 
 anxioM  should  the  Christian  be  looking 
 for  the  day  when  he  shall  attain  the  end 
 of  all  his  prayers,  faith,  and  labours — the 
 glory  of  God  in  heaven.  Macduff. 
 
 HEAVEN— llementos  in. 
 
 As  an  illustration  how  the  spirit  may 
 cling  to  something  we  may  have  loved  in 
 this  life,  permit  me  to  refer  to  a  beautiful 
 legend  told  in  Danish  poetry.  An  angel 
 has  just  been  down  to  this  world  to  ac- 
 company the  soul  of  a  little  girl  up  to 
 heaven.  As  they  are  going  back,  the  child 
 notices  that  the  angel  bears  a  rose-tree  in 
 one  of  its  hands,  and  asks  the  meaning  of 
 it.  The  angel  tells  her  that  there  was 
 lately  a  poor  boy  in  the  city  they  have  just 
 left,  who  lay  for  a  long  time  dying,  and 
 that  rose  was  very  dear  to  him  through  all 
 his  illness.  It  brought  him  the  first  news 
 of  spring,  and  it  filled  the  close  sick-room 
 with  its  fresh,  young  fragrance.  He 
 loved  it  next  best  to  his  mother.  He  is 
 now  taking  this  darling  rose  up  to  heaven 
 to  plant  it  there.  The  spirit  of  the 
 child  looks  up  in  the  angel's  face  and 
 asks — 
 
 "  How  know'st  thou  this.  Bright  Power  ?" 
 
 Then  splendidly  he  smiled  : 
 "  Should  I  not  know  my  flower  ! 
 I  was  that  sickly  child." 
 
 Dr.  Macleod. 
 HEAVEN— Music  in. 
 
 There  is  music  in  heaven,  because  in 
 music  there  is  no  self-will.  Music  goes  on 
 certain  laws  and  rules.  Man  did  not 
 make  these  laws  of  music;  he  has  only 
 found  them  out;  and  if  he  be  self- willed 
 and  break  them,  there  is  an  end  of  his 
 music  instantly;  all  he  brings  out  is  dis- 
 cord and  ugly  sounds.  The  greatest  mu- 
 sician in  the  world  is  as  much  bound  by 
 those  laws  as  the  learner  in  the  school, 
 and  the  greatest  musician  is  the  one  who, 
 instead  of  fancying  that,  because  he  is 
 clever,  he  may  throw  aside  the  laws  of 
 music,  knows  the  laws  of  music  best,  and 
 observes  them  most  reverently.  And 
 therefore  it  was  that  the  old  Greeks,  the 
 wisest  of  all  the  heathens,  made  a  point  of 
 teaching  their  children  music;  because 
 they  said  it  taught  them  not  to  be  self- 
 willed  and  fanciful,  bi'.t  to  see  the  beauty 
 of  order,  the  usefulness  of  rule,  the  divine- 
 ness  of  laws. 
 
 And,  therefore,  music  is  fit  for  heaven  : 
 
 therefore  music  is  a  pattern  and  type  of 
 heaven,  and  of  the  everlasting  life  of  God, 
 which  perfect  spirits  live  in  heaven;  a  lile 
 of  melody  and  order  in  themselves  ;  a  lite 
 of  harmony  with  each  other  and  with  God. 
 C.  Kingsleij. 
 
 He  that  at  midnight,  when  the  very 
 labourer  sleeps  securely,  should  hear,  as  I 
 have  often  done,  the  sweet  descants,  tho 
 natural  rising  and  falling,  the  doubling 
 and  redoubling  of  the  nightingale's  voice, 
 miglit  well  be  lifted  above  earth,  and  say, 
 Lord,  what  music  hast  Thou  provided  for 
 the  saints  in  heaven,  when  Thou  affordest, 
 bad  men  such  music  upon  earth  ! 
 
 Izaak  Walton. 
 
 HEAVEN— Near  the  Throne  in. 
 
 The  Calvinistic  and  Arminian  contro- 
 versy  ran  high  in  Mr.  Whitfield's  day  — 
 more  high,  perhaps,  among  their  respective 
 followers  than  between  themselves.  On 
 one  occasion,  one  of  Mr.  Whitfield's  ardent 
 admirers  met  him  walking  with  a  friend 
 and  accosted  him,  "Oh!  Mr.  Whitfield,  I 
 am  so  glad  to  have  met  you;  I  want  to 
 ask  you  an  important  question."  "  Well 
 what  is  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Whitfield.  "  Why 
 sir,  I  was  at  a  party  of  friends  the  other 
 night,  and  somebody  said  that  we  shall  see 
 John  Wesley  in  heaven.  Do  you  think  we 
 shall,  Mr.  Whitfield  ?"  who  replied,  "  You 
 ask  me — that  is,  you  and  I — shall  we  see 
 Mr.  Wesley  in  heaven  ?  Certainly  not." 
 "I  thought  you  would  say  so,"  replied  the 
 ai-dent  hyper ;  "  thanlc  you,  sir."  "  But 
 stop,  my"  friend,  hear  all  I  have  to  say 
 about  it.  John  Wesley  will  be  so  near  the 
 throne,  and  you  and  1  so  far  oft',  that  we 
 cannot  expect  to  see  him." 
 
 Dr.  J.  Camphetru. 
 HEAVEN— Nearer. 
 
 One  sweetly  solemn  thought 
 
 Comes  to  Me  o'er  and  o'er ; 
 I'm  nearer  my  home  to-day 
 
 Than  I've  ever  been  before ! 
 Nearer  my  Fatlier's  house, 
 
 Where  the  many  mansions  be ; 
 Nearer  the  great  white  throne, 
 
 Nearer  the  jasper  sea  ! 
 Nearer  the  bound  of  life. 
 
 Where  I  lay  my  burden  down ; 
 Nearer  leaving  my  cross  ! 
 
 Nearer  wearing  my  crowu  !         Anon. 
 
 HEAVEN— Nearing. 
 
 We  read  that,  in  certain  climates  of  the 
 world,  the  gales  that  spring  from  the  land 
 carry  a  refreshing  smell  out  to  sea,  and 
 assure  the  watchful  pilot  that  he  is  ap- 
 proaching a  desirable  and  fruitful  const, 
 when  as  yet  he  cannot  discern  it  with 
 his  eyes.  And  to  take  up  the  comparison 
 of  life  to  a  voyage,  in  like  manner  it 
 28 
 
43-1 
 
 HEAVEIT. 
 
 fares  with  those  who  have  sttadily  and 
 religiously  pursued  the  course  which 
 heaven  pointed  out  to  them.  We  shall 
 sometimes  find  by  their  conversation  to- 
 wards the  end  of  their  days,  that  they  are 
 filled  with  peace,  and  hope,  and  joy ; 
 which,  like  those  refreshing  gales  and  re- 
 viving odours  to  the  seamen,  are  breathed 
 forth  from  Paradise  upon  their  souls;  and 
 give  them  to  understand  with  certainty 
 that  God  is  bringing  them  into  their  de- 
 sired Itaven.  Toivnson. 
 
 HEAVEN— Nearness  of. 
 
 The  .nearness  of  heaven  is  suggested  by 
 the  epithet  "  veil."  Christians,  there  is 
 only  a  veil  between  us  and  heaven !  A 
 veil  is  the  thinnest  and  frailest  of  all  con- 
 ceivable partitions.  It  is  but  a  fine  tissue, 
 a  delicate  fabric  of  embroidery.  It  waves 
 in  the  wind ;  the  touch  of  a  child  may  stir 
 it,  and  accident  may  rend  it;  the  silent 
 action  of  time  will  moulder  it  away.  The 
 veil  that  conceals  heaven  is  only  our  em- 
 bodied existence,  and  though  fearfully  and 
 wonderfully  made,  it  is  only  wrought  out 
 of  our  frail  mortality.  So  slight  is  it  that 
 the  puncture  of  a  thorn,  the  touch  of  an 
 insect's  sting,  the  breath  of  an  infected 
 atmo'iphere,  may  make  it  shake  and  fall. 
 In  a  bound,  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling 
 of  an  eye,  in  the  throb  of  a  pulse,  in  the 
 flush  of  a  thought,  we  may  start  iuto  dis- 
 embodied spirits,  glide  unabashed  into  the 
 company  of  great  and  mighty  angels,  pass 
 into  the  light  and  amazement  of  eternity, 
 know  the  great  secret,  gaze  upon  splendours 
 which  flesh. and  blood  could  not  sustain, 
 and  whi<ih  no  words  lawful  for  man  to 
 utter. eould  describe  !  Brethren  in  Christ, 
 there  is  but  a  step  between  you  and 
 death;  between  you  and  heaven  there  is 
 but  a  veil !  C.  Stanford. 
 
 "This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in 
 Paradise,"  said  the  dying  Saviour  to  the 
 penitent  thief.  It  is  not  fir  to  heaven ;  it 
 is  not  a  day's  journey.  The  angel  mes- 
 senger came  all  the  way  from  heaven  in  a 
 few  minutes  to  Daniel  while  he  was  speak- 
 ing in  prayer.  The  Saviour  ascended  to 
 heaven  from  Olivet,  and  was  soon  out  of 
 sight.  The  dying  saint  doses  his  eyes  in 
 death — sleeps  in  Jesus — and  opens  them 
 in  heaven.  Sometimes  the  departing 
 Christian  hears  the  songs  and  music  of 
 heaven  even  before  his  immortal  spirit 
 stretches  its  wings  for  the  final  flight. 
 How  far  is  it  then  to  heaven  ? 
 
 Header,  in  all  your  inquiries  in  this 
 anxious  inquiring  world,  have  you  made 
 this  one  inquiry  ?  We  often  hear  the 
 weary  traveller  inquiring  how  far  it  is 
 to  the  place  of  rest.  We  hear  the  lost 
 wanderer  inquire  how  far  it  is  to  his  home. 
 You  profess,  it  may  be,  to  desire  an  eternal 
 
 home  in  heaven.  Why  not,  then,  ask, 
 "  How  far  is  it  to  heaven  ?"  It  may  be 
 but  a  little  distance  from  some  of  my 
 readers.  You  may  be  already  within  the 
 sound  of  its  happy  voices,  and  but  for  the 
 "  veil  of  humanity,"  they  might  even  now 
 fall  upon  the  ear.  But  you  will  soon  hear 
 them.  Only  a  little,  very  little  farther  on, 
 and  heaven  will  be  attained,  if  you  are 
 found  faithful.         Anon. 
 
 Know  ye  are  as  near  heaven  as  ye  are 
 far  from  yourself,  and  as  far  from  the  love 
 of  a  bewitching  world.  S.  Rutherford. 
 
 One  should  go  to  sleep  at  night  as  home- 
 sick passengers  do,  saying,  "Perhaps  in 
 the  morning  we  shall  see  the  shore."  To 
 us  who  are  Christians,  is  it  not  a  solemn 
 but  a  delightful  thought,  that  perhaps 
 nothing  but  the  opaque  bodily  eye  prevents 
 us  from  beholding  the  gate  which  is  open 
 just  before  us,  and  nothing  but  the  dull 
 ear  prevents  us  from  hearing  the  ringing 
 of  those  bells  of  joy  which  welcome  us  to 
 the  heavenly  land.  M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 As  doctor  Taylor  was  going  to  martyr, 
 dom  he  said,  "  I  have  but  two  stiles  to  go 
 over,  and  I  shall  he  at  my  Father's  house." 
 So  may  many  an  aged  faithful  Christian 
 say,  "  I  have  but  one  more  temptation  to 
 overcome,  one  more  trial  to  pass  through, 
 one  more  afiliction  to  endure,  and  but  one 
 death  to  triumph  over,  and  then  I  shall 
 be  at  '  my  Father's  house.' "       John  Bate. 
 
 HEAVEN— Peace  in. 
 
 Once  I  dreamed  of  being  transported  to 
 heaven;  and  being  surprised  to  find  my- 
 self so  calm  and  tranquil  in  the  midst  of 
 my  happiness,  I  inquired  the  cause.  The 
 reply  was.  When  you  were  on  enrth,  you 
 resembled  a  bottle  but  partly  filled  with 
 water,  which  was  agitated  by  the  least 
 motion — now  you  are  like  the  same  bottle 
 filled  to  the  brim,  which  cannot  be  dis- 
 turbed. Dr.  Payson. 
 
 HEAVEN— Peoples  in. 
 
 The  Bible  reveals  to  us  most  clearly  the 
 truth  which  our  carnal,  narrow  hearts  are 
 very  unwilling  to  receive,  namely,  that 
 amongst  the  good  whom  we  hope  to  meet 
 in  heaven,  there  will  be  every  variety  of 
 character,  taste,  and  disposition.  There  is 
 not  one  "  mansion "  there,  but  "  many." 
 There  is  not  one  "  gate "  to  heaven,  but 
 many.  There  are  not  gates  only  on  the 
 north,  but  "  on  the  east  three  gates,  and 
 on  the  west  three  gates,  and  on  the  south 
 three  gates."  From  opposite  quarters  of 
 the  theological  comjiass,  from  opposite 
 quarters  of  the  religious  world,  from  op- 
 posite quarters  of  human  life  and  character; 
 through  diflerent  expressions  of  their  com- 
 
HEAVEW. 
 
 435 
 
 mon  faith  and  hope,  through  different 
 modes  of  conversion,  through  different  por- 
 tions of  the  Holy  Scripture, — will  the 
 weary  travellers  enter  the  Heavenly  City, 
 and  meet  each  other — "not  without  sur- 
 prise " — on  the  shores  of  the  same  river  of 
 life.  And  on  those  shores  they  will  find 
 a  tree  bearing,  not  the  same  kind  of  fruit 
 always  and  at  all  times,  but  "twelve 
 maimer  of  fruits"  for  every  different  turn 
 of  mind — for  the  patient  sufferer,  for  the 
 active  servant,  for  the  holy  and  humble 
 philosopher,  for  the  spirits  of  just  men 
 now  at  last  made  perfect ;  and  "  the  leaves 
 of  the  tree  shall  be  for  the  healing,"  not 
 of  one  single  church  or  people  only,  not 
 for  the  Scotsman  or  the  Englishman  only, 
 but  for  the  "  healing  of  the  nations,"  the 
 Frenchman,  the  German,  the  Italian,  the 
 Russian — for  all  those  from  whom  it  may 
 be,  in  this  its  fruits,  have  been  furthest 
 removed,  but  who,  nevertheless,  have 
 "hungered  and  thirsted  after  righteous- 
 ness," and  who,  therefore,  "  shall  he 
 jilled."  A.  P.  StanUy. 
 
 HEAVEN— Pledges  of. 
 
 As  soon  as  we  have  set  out  on  our 
 journey  to  go  home,  our  home,  by  fore- 
 tastes, comes  to  meet  us.  The  peace  of 
 our  home  embraces  us,  the  Spirit,  like  a 
 dove,  rests  upon  our  hearts,  the  glory  of 
 our  home  allures  us,  and  angel-servants 
 from  our  home  bear  us  company,  and  help 
 us  on  our  road.  Oh,  what  a  sweet  home 
 ours  must  be  that  can  send  us  such 
 pledges  of  its  sweetness,  while  we  are  yet 
 a  great  way  off!  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 EEAVEII— A  Present. 
 
 He  whose  mind  is  here  absorbed  in  the 
 desire  for  the  distant  heaven  is  like  a  man 
 walking  through  scenes  of  exquisite  loveli- 
 ness, and  fields  of  delicious  fruit,  with  his 
 eyes  so  fixed  upon  a  mirage  scene  in  the 
 distance,  that  he  sees  no  beauty  on  his 
 way,  starves  amid  the  exuberant  provisions 
 which  lie  about  his  path,  and  reaches  what 
 he  sees,  an  exhausted  pilgrim,  to  find  the 
 object  of  his  search  vanish  into  air.  Infuse 
 then  the  spirit  of  heaven  into  thy  present 
 life.  Moral  goodness  of  soul,  springing 
 from  faith  in  Clirist,  is  your  way  into  the 
 present  and  all  the  future  heavens  of  your 
 being.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 HEAVEN— Promised. 
 
 Our  last  thought  is  that  heaven  is  as 
 yet  but  a  promise  to  us.  We  have  not 
 seen  it.  To  our  ears  not  even  an  echo  of 
 its  rapture- song  has  ever  floated.  But  "a 
 promise  is  left  us  of  entering  into  that 
 rest."  God  has  said  it.  That  is  enough. 
 On  that  promise  millions  of  dying  saints 
 have  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus.     With   that 
 
 steady  lamp  in  my  hand,  let  me  go  down 
 into  the  dark  valley ! 
 
 'Tis  through  Thy  promises,  my  Lord, 
 I  hope  that  world  to  see ;  [word 
 
 And  through  those   gates   at   Thy  sweet 
 To  enter  in  to  Thee.  Anon, 
 
 HEAVEN— a  Provided  Place. 
 
 It  is  a  comfort  in  the  hour  of  death 
 that  we  yield  up  our  souls  to  Christ,  who 
 has  gone  before  to  provide  a  place  for  us. 
 Therefore,  when  we  die,  we  have  not  a 
 place  to  seek,  our  house  is  provided  before- 
 hand. Christ  was  taken  up  to  glory  to 
 provide  glory  for  us  ;  even  as  Paradise  was 
 provided  for  Adam  before  he  was  made,  we 
 have  a  heaven  provided  for  us  before  we 
 die.  Sibhes. 
 
 HEAVEN— Recognition  in. 
 
 It  is  a  question  with  some,  whether  we 
 shall  know  each  other  in  heaven  or  no. 
 Surely  there  shall  no  knowledge  cease  which 
 now  we  have,  but  only  that  which,  implieth 
 our  imperfection.  And  what  imperfection 
 can  this  imply  ?  Nay,  our  present  know- 
 ledge shall  be  increased  beyond  belief.  It 
 shall  indeed  be  done  away,  but  as  the  light 
 of  the  candle  and  stars  is  done  away  by  the 
 rising  sun  ;  which  is  more  properly  a  doing 
 away  of  our  ignorance  than  of  our  know- 
 ledge.    R.  Baxter. 
 
 An  old  Welsh  minister,  while  one  day 
 pursuing  his  studies,  his  wife  being  in  the 
 room,  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  her 
 asking  him  a  question,  which  has  not  al- 
 ways been  so  satisfactorily  answered. 
 "John  Evans,  do  you  think  we  shall  be 
 known  to  each  other  in  heaven  ?"  "  To  be 
 sure  you  shall,"  he  replied ;  "  do  you  think 
 we  shall  he  greater  fools  there  than  we 
 are  here  ?"  After  a  momentary  pause  he 
 again  proceeded,  "But,  Margaret,  I  may 
 be  a  thousand  years  by  your  side  in  heaven 
 without  having  seen  you;  for  the  first 
 thing  which  will  attract  my  notice  when  I 
 arrive  there,  will  be  my  dear  Saviour;  and 
 I  cannot  tell  when  I  shall  be  for  a  moment 
 induced  to  look  at  any  other  object." 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 
 I  must  confess,  as  the  experience  of  my 
 own  soul,  that  the  expectation  of  loving 
 my  friends  in  heaven,  principally  kindles 
 my  love  to  them  on  earth.  If  I  thought  I 
 should  never  know  them,  and  consequently 
 never  love  them  after  this  life  is  ended,  I 
 should  in  reason  number  them  with  tem- 
 poral things,  and  love  them  as  such  ;  but  I 
 now  delightfully  converse  with  my  pious 
 friends,  in  a  firm  persuasion  that  I  shall 
 converse  with  them  for  ever ;  and  I  take 
 comfort  in  those  of  them  who  are  dead  or 
 absent,  as  belienns*  I  shall  shortly  meet 
 
436 
 
 HEAVEN. 
 
 them  in  heaven,  and  love  them  with  a  love 
 which  shall  then  be  perfected.         Baxter. 
 
 The  Saviour  speaks  of  heaven  as  His 
 "  Fathers  house ;"  and  the  apostle  Paul 
 speaks  of  the  inhabitants  of  heaven  as  a 
 "  family."  Can  we  conceive  of  a  family 
 meeting  and  living  together  in  th«  father's 
 house,  and  no  recognition  among  the 
 various  members  ?  If  Christians  shall  re- 
 cognise God  the  Father,  and  Christ  the 
 Son,  whom  they  have  only  seen  by  faith 
 on  earth,  shall  they  not  their  brethren 
 whom  they  have  seen  eye  to  eye  and  face 
 to  face,  and  held  sweet  communion  with  in 
 the  unity  of  the  Spirit  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 Heaven  is  presented  to  us  under  the 
 idea  of  a  banquet,  and  much  of  its  comfort 
 must  flow  from  a  knowledge  of  the  guests. 
 Imagine  yourselves  at  a  feast,  where, 
 though  you  may  have  known  many  who 
 surround  the  table,  you  are,  by  some  ob- 
 liviousness of  mind,  ignorant  of  them  all ; 
 the  incertitude  in  which  you  are  placed 
 robs  you  of  much  of  your  joy,  for  you  are 
 alone;  but  suppose  that  the  mist  rolls 
 away,  and  that  you  recognise  in  the  coun- 
 tenances before  you  the  old  familiar  faces 
 of  beloved  friends — at  once  you  become 
 conscious  of  a  felicity  of  which  you  other- 
 wise would  have  been  deprived.  So  it  will 
 be  in  eternity.  Sitting  down  with  Abra- 
 ham, Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of 
 heaven,  you  will  intuitively  recognise  as 
 your  companions  those  who  were  the  ex- 
 cellent of  the  earth,  and  be  re-united  to 
 those  who  divided  your  cares,  or  doubled 
 your  joys  in  this  world  of  mingled  sorrows 
 and  delights.  Anon. 
 
 HEAVEN— East  in. 
 
 As  the  body  when  it  is  bi;ried  in  the 
 grave  rests  there,  free  from  fear  of  disease 
 and  death ;  free  from  alarm  and  accident ; 
 free  from  hunger  and  thirst ;  free  from 
 assault  and  war;  resting  as  in  an  im- 
 pregnable fortress,  dreading  no  debts, 
 bailiff,  prisons,  or  fetters;  so  the  soul, 
 when  it  enters  through  the  gates  of  the 
 city  above,  rests  from  its  labours,  cares, 
 anxieties,  temptations,  enemies ;  rests  in 
 the  peace,  purity,  joy,  happiness,  protection, 
 and  endless  benedictions  of  God. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 Tell  me,  my  secret  soul, 
 O  tell  me,  Hope  and  Faith, 
 Is  there  no  resting-place 
 From  sorrow,  sin,  and  death  ? 
 Is  there  no  happy  spot. 
 Where  mortals  may  be  blest, — 
 Where  grief  may  find  a  balm. 
 And  weariness  a  rest  ? 
 
 Faith,  Hope,  and  Love,  best  boon  to  mor- 
 tals given, 
 
 Waved  their  bright  wings,  and  whisper'd, 
 "  Yes !  in  heaven."  Anon. 
 
 The  racer,  in  the  Olympic  games,  forgot 
 his  fatigue  when,  amidst  the  crowd  of 
 spectators,  he  reached  the  goal  and  the 
 victorious  crown  was  placed  upon  his  head. 
 The  mariner  forgets  the  terrors  of  the 
 voyage  past,  when  he  has  safely  reached 
 his  port.  The  husbandman  thinks  no 
 more  of  the  long  anxiety  which  he  endured 
 'mid  the  dreariness  of  winter,  now  that 
 the  grain  ripens  for  the  sickle,  or  the 
 reapers  shout  the  harvest-home,  and  the 
 wheat  is  gathered  into  the  garner ;  so,  when 
 the  Christian  shall  enter  into  the  rest  of 
 heaven,  he  shall  forget  all  the  toils,  sorrows, 
 temptations,  and  sins  of  earth,  excepting 
 in  a  way  that  shall  enliance  his  hap^nness. 
 Wigner. 
 
 HEAVEN— No  Sect  in. 
 
 It  is  said  that  John  Wesley  once,  in  the 
 visions  of  the  night,  found  himself,  as  he 
 thought,  at  the  gates  of  hell.  He  knocked, 
 and  asked  who  were  within.  "  Are  there 
 any  Roman  Catholics  here?"  he  asked. 
 "  Yes,"  was  the  answer ;  "  a  great  many." 
 "  Any  Church  of  England  men  ?"  "  Yes  ; 
 a  great  many."  "  Any  Presbyterians  ?" 
 "  Yes ;  a  great  many."  "Any  Wesleyans  ?" 
 "  Y'es ;  a  great  many."  Disa]:)pointed  and 
 dismayed,  especially  at  the  last  reply,  he 
 turned  his  steps  upwards,  and  found  him- 
 self at  the  gates  of  Paradise,  and  here 
 he  repeated  the  same  questions.  "Any 
 Wesleyans  here?"  "No."  "Any  Pres- 
 byterians?" "No."  "Any  Church  of 
 England  men  ?"  "  No."  "  Any  Roman 
 Cathohcs  ?"  "  No."  "  Whom  have  you, 
 then,  here  ?"  he  asked  in  astonishment. 
 "  We  know  nothing-  here,"  was  the  reply, 
 "  of  any  of  those  names  that  you  have 
 mentioned.  The  only  name  of  which  we 
 know  anything  here  is  Christian ;  we  are 
 all  Christians  here,  and  of  these  we  have  a 
 great  mviltitude  which  no  man  can  number, 
 of  all  nations,  and  kindreds,  and  peoples, 
 and  tongues."  A.  P.  Stanley. 
 
 I  have  seen  a  field  here,  and  a  field 
 there,  stand  thick  with  corn —  a  hedge  or 
 two  has  separated  them.  At  the  proper 
 season  the  reapers  entered ;  soon  the 
 earth  was  disburdened,  and  the  -grain  was 
 conveyed  to  its  destined  resting-place, 
 where,  blended  together  in  the  barn  or  in 
 the  stack,  it  could  not  be  known  that  a 
 hedge  had  ever  separated  this  corn  from 
 that.  Thus  it  is  with  the  Cimrch.  Here 
 it  grows,  as  it  were,  in  dilierent  fields,  and 
 even,  it  may  be,  by  difierent  hedges.  By- 
 and-by,  when  the  harvest  is  come,  all 
 God's'  wheat  shall  be  gathered  into  the 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 437 
 
 garner,  without  one  single  mark  to  dis- 
 tin<2:uish  tliat  once  tliey  difi'ered  in  out- 
 ward circumstantials  of  form  and  order. 
 
 Toplady. 
 HEAVEN— Service  of. 
 
 Thei/  serve  God.  "  They  cry  with  a 
 loud  voice,  saying.  Salvation  to  our  God 
 which  sitteth  u])on  the  throne,  and  unto 
 the  Lamb  !'  "  They  are  before  the  throne 
 of  God,  and  serve  Him  day  and  night  in 
 His  temple."  Adoration  at  the  throne,  ac- 
 tivity in  the  temple — the  worship  of  the 
 heart,  the  worship  of  the  voice,  the  worship 
 of  the  hands, — the  whole  being  consecrated 
 and  devoted  to  God — those  are  the  service 
 of  the  upper  sanctuary.  Here  the  flesh  is 
 often  wearied  with  an  hour  of  worship  : 
 ihere  "they  rest  not  day  and  night,  saying. 
 Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty,  which 
 was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come."  Here  a  week 
 will  often  see  us  weary  in  well-doing ;  there 
 they  are  drawn  on  by  its  own  deliciousness 
 to  larger  and  larger  fulfilments  of  Jeho- 
 vah's will.  Here  we  must  lure  ourselves  to 
 work  by  the  prospect  of  rest  hereafter ; 
 there  the  toil  is  luxury,  and  the  labour 
 recreation — and  nothing  but  jubilees  of 
 praise,  and  holidays  of  higher  service,  are 
 wanted  to  diversify  the  long  and  indus- 
 trious 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  Almighty,  which  was,  and 
 is,  and  is  to  come  !"  Br.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 HEAVEN— No  Sin  in. 
 
 "  There  shall  in  no  wise  enter  into  it 
 anything  that  defileth."  Heaven  is  not 
 like  Noah's  ark,  that  received  clean  and 
 unclean.  A  sinner  is  compared  to  swine 
 (2  Pet.  ii,  22),  and  shall  a  swinish  creature 
 tread  upon  the  golden  jjavement  of  heaven  ? 
 Indeed  the  frogs  came  into  king  Pharaoh's 
 court,  but  in  heaven  there  is  no  entertain- 
 ment for  such  vermin.  T.  Watson. 
 
 HEAVEN-Society  of. 
 
 When  death  shall  have  disencumbered 
 and  set  us  free  from  all  sorts  of  distem- 
 pers, and  brought  us  into  the  state  of 
 perfect  and  perfected  spirits, how  delectabh; 
 will  that  society  be,  when  all  shall  be  full 
 
 of  Divine  light,  life,  love,  and  joy,  and 
 freely  communicate,  as  they  have  received 
 freely  !  How  pleasant  it  will  be  to  sit  down 
 with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the 
 kingdom  of  God  !  to  converse  with  angels, 
 those  wise,  kind  creatures,  so  full  of  jjro- 
 found  knowledge  and  benignity,  instructed 
 by  long  uninterrupted  experience  and  ob- 
 servation of  the  methods  of  the  Divine 
 government  and  dispensation  ;  highly 
 pleased  with  our  accession  to  the  general 
 assembly  ;  that  rejoiced  in  the  conversion 
 of  a  sinner,  whereby  but  one  was  hereafter 
 in  due  time  to  be  added,  much  more  in  the 
 glorification  of  so  many  that  are  now 
 actually  added  to  them  !  JoJin  Howe. 
 
 HEAVEN— Soon  he  in. 
 
 Beyond  the  smiling  and  the  weeping, 
 
 I  shall  be  soon  ; 
 Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping. 
 Beyond  the  sowing  and  the  reaping, 
 I  shall  be  soon. 
 Love,  rest,  and  home ! 
 Sweet  home  ! 
 Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 
 
 Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading, 
 
 I  shall  be  soon ; 
 Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading. 
 Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading, 
 I  shall  be  soon. 
 Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
 Sweet  home  ! 
 Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 
 
 Beyond  the  rising  and  the  setting, 
 
 I  shall  be  soon  ; 
 Beyond  the  calming  and  the  fretting. 
 Beyond  the  remembei'ing  and  Ibrgeiling, 
 1  shall  be  soon. 
 Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
 Sweet  home  ! 
 Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 
 
 Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting, 
 
 I  shall  be  soon  ; 
 Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting. 
 Beyond  the  pulse's  fever  beating, 
 I  shall  be  soon. 
 Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
 Sweet  home ! 
 Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 
 
 Beyond  the  frost-chain  and  the  fever, 
 
 I  shall  be  soon  ; 
 Beyond  the  rock  waste  and  the  river. 
 Beyond  the  ever  and  the  never, 
 I  shall  be  soon. 
 Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
 Sweet  home  ! 
 Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 
 
 Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 HEAVEN— Stephen  and  Paul  in. 
 
 One  of  the  most  interesting  spectacles, 
 perhaps,  ever  witnessed  in  heaven,  must 
 
438 
 
 have  been  the  first  interview  there  be- 
 tween "  Saul,  who  is  also  called  Paul," 
 and  Stephen,  If  we  ever  indulge^  the 
 thought  as  to  some  of  the  principal  objects 
 of  interest  to  us  hereafter  in  heaven,  we 
 may  well  place  this  among  them— to  be- 
 hold these  two  men  together.  What  shall 
 we  lose,  if  we  lose  heaven,  full  as  it  is  of 
 such  wonders  of  love  and  joy  ?     N.  Adams. 
 
 HEAVEN— Steps  to. 
 
 There  was  a  boy  whose  slender  stock  of 
 wit  scarcely  raised  him  above  idiocy,  but 
 ■who  had  been  taught  by  the  Spirit  a 
 knowledge  above  ail  human  wisdom.  A 
 friend  wishing  to  find  oat  whether  he  had 
 any  idea  on  the  subject  of  religion,  said  to 
 him  one  day,  "  It  is  hard  work,  is  it  not,  to 
 get  to  heaven  ?"  He  was  surprised  to  re- 
 ceive the  answer,  "  No ;  it  is  easy.  There 
 are  only  three  steps;  Jirst,  out  of  self; 
 second,  into  Christ  j  third,  into  heaven." 
 Anon. 
 
 KEAVEJT— No  Strife  in. 
 
 It  is  related  that  an  old  Scotch  elder  had 
 once  a  serious  dispute  with  his  minister  at 
 an  elder's  meeting.  He  said  some  hard 
 things,  and  almost  broke  the  minister's 
 heart.  Afterwards  he  went  home,  and  the 
 minister  went  home  too.  The  next  morn- 
 ing the  elder  came  down,  and  his  wife  said 
 to  him,  "  Ye  look  very  sad,  Jan  ;  what  is 
 the  matter  with  ye  ?"  "  Ah,"  he  replied, 
 "you  would  look  sad  too  if  you  had  had 
 such  a  dream  as  I  have.  I  dreamed  I  had 
 been  at  the  elder's  meeting,  and  had  said 
 some  hard  things,  and  grieved  the  minister ; 
 and  when  he  went  home  1  thought  he  died, 
 and  went  to  heaven.  And  I  thought  after- 
 wards that  I  died  too,  and  went  up  to 
 heaven ;  and  when  I  got  to  the  gates  of 
 heaven,  out  came  the  minister,  and  put  out 
 his  hands  to  take  me,  saying,  '  Come  along, 
 Jan,  there's  nae  strile  up  here — I  am  happy 
 to  see  ye.'  " 
 
 The  elder  went  to  his  minister  directly 
 to  beg  his  pardon,  and  found  he  was  dead. 
 The  elder  was  so  stricken  by  the  blow, 
 that  two  weeks  after  he  also  departed. 
 "  And  I  should  not  wonder,"  said  he  who 
 related  the  incident,  "  if  he  did  meet  the 
 minister  at  heaven's  gate,  and  hear  him 
 say,  '  Come  along,  Jan,  there's  nae  strife 
 up  here.'  " 
 
 Ah,  no,  they  never  quarrel  in  heaven ; 
 and  when  we  let  our  feelings  get  on  fire 
 here,  and  use  harsh  words,  and  bitt(!rness 
 and  malice  cling  to  our  hearts,  we  have 
 not  got  the  Gospel  spirit.  The  spirit  that 
 should  beltmg  to  the  Church  on  earth  is 
 the  same  spirit  of  love  that  rules  in  heaven. 
 Anon. 
 HEAVEN— Talk  of. 
 
 There  was  a  little  boy  in  America  named 
 Nathan  Dickinson,  who  was  noted  for  his 
 
 juvenile  piety.  Previous  to  his  death, 
 which  took  place  when  he  was  only  eight 
 years  old,  he  passed  through  a  long  and 
 painful  afllietion,  which  he  bore  without  a 
 single  murmur.  On  one  occasion,  in  order 
 to  have  his  thoughts  drawn  from  the  pain 
 he  was  suffering,  he  asked  his  mother  to 
 talk  with  him.  She  in  return  said,  "What 
 shall  I  talk  about,  Nathan  ?"  His  sweet 
 reply  was,  "About  heaven,  uiamm;i  !" 
 
 Ji.  Brown. 
 HEAVEN— Time  of  Going  to. 
 
 The  very  time  at  which  we  think  our 
 friends  most  fitted  to  live  and  benefit  the 
 world,  is,  perhaps  for  that  reason,  the  pre- 
 cise moment  when  God  sees  it  best  to  re- 
 move them  from  it.  As  the  skilful  artist 
 who  is  about  to  draw  our  portrait  chooses, 
 if  he  can,  the  favorable  opportunity  which 
 exhibits  us  to  most  advantage,  and  fears 
 lest  any  change  of  countenance  or  posture 
 should  interfere  ;  so  does  a  merciful  Provi- 
 dence select  his  time,  and  when  the  soul  is 
 at  the  highest  point  of  its  elevation,  set 
 His  seal  and  stamp  it  for  immortality. 
 
 II.  Woodward. 
 HEAVEN— Transition  to. 
 
 Many  curious  speculations  have  been  in- 
 dulged regarding  the  exit  of  the  soul  of  a 
 righteous  man :  how  it  passes  through  the 
 air  and  ethereal  regions ;  and  how,  leaving 
 stars  and  systems  behind,  it  soars  with 
 strong,  swift  pinion  into  the  august  pre- 
 sence of  Deity.  Such  speculations  are  far 
 more  inquisitive  than  important.  The 
 fact  that  the  holy  soul  is  immediately 
 transferred  to  the  highest  heavens  is  infi- 
 nitely more  interesting  and  consolatory 
 than  the  method  of  its  transmission.  It 
 has  no  "  successive  ascensions,"  ever 
 changing  its  home,  and  therefore  never  at 
 home;  rising  from  one  height  of  glory 
 and  blessedness  to  another  still  higher, 
 only  that  each  height  may  be  gained  and 
 lett  behind.  Scarcely  has  death  broken 
 down  '•  the  middle  wall  of  partition," 
 scarcely  has  he  lifted  the  veil,  when  a 
 biundless  territory  of  brightness  and  joy 
 stretches  out  before  the  naked  spirit.  Not 
 a  sand  has  time  to  fall.  One  step,  and  the 
 soul  is  in  glory.  The  flight  through  im- 
 mensity is  made  "  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
 eye ;"  the  pilgrimage  to  the  spheres 
 occupies  but  a  moment.  There  is  no 
 waiting  for  a  celestial  convoy.  A  troop  of 
 angelic  beings,  unseen,  crowd  the  chamber 
 of  death,  and  are  ready  with  outstretched 
 wing  to  bear  the  spirit  home  to  God ;  the 
 last  quiver  gasped  from  the  bloodless  lip, 
 the  last  sigh  breathed  out,  and,  switter 
 than  the  beams  of  the  morning,  or  the 
 flash  of  the  lightning,  they  tower  with  it 
 to  glory.  The  beggar  was  borne  to  Abra- 
 ham's bosom  by  swift-winged  angels.  The 
 dj'iug  felon  had  scarcely  gro.sued  his  last 
 
EEAVEir. 
 
 439 
 
 on  Calvary  when  he  opened  his  eyes  in 
 Paradise.  He  passed  direct  from  a  cross 
 to  a  throne — from  consummate  i^jnominy 
 to  celestial  honour.  Ere  his  dying  wail 
 had  spent  itself,  he  had  begun  the  song 
 of  immortality ;  ere  his  mangled  frame 
 was  cold  and  stiff  in  death,  his  feet  had 
 trod  the  crystal  pavement  of  "  the  holy 
 city,"  and  his  fingers  had  struck  celestial 
 notes  from  a  golden  lyre. 
 
 "  Oh  change  !     Oh  wondrous  change  ! 
 
 Burst  are  the  prison  bars ; 
 This  moment  there — so  low. 
 So  agonised — and  now 
 
 Beyond  the  stars  ! 
 Oh  change  !  stupendous  change ! 
 
 There  lies  the  soulless  clod : 
 The  sun  eternal  breaks  ; 
 The  new  immortal  wakes, — 
 Wakes  with  his  God  !" 
 One  would  imagine  that  on  being  so  sud- 
 denly ushered  into  the  infinite  sublimities 
 of  a  new  and  glorious  world,  the  soul  would 
 be   overwhelmed,  nay,  annil)ihited.     Great 
 excitement  has    sometimes   driven    reason 
 from  her  throne,  and  burst  the  rejoicing 
 heart;    and  verily  the  joy  and   splendour 
 of  that  moment  is  more  than   enough  to 
 confound    the   bravest  and   holiest    spirit. 
 But  no  :  He  who  has  protected  it;  fi-om  all 
 evil,  also  shields  when  embodied  amid  that 
 opulence  of  celestial  glory,  so  that  it  feels 
 serenely   cuhu  and    perfectly  at  ease  the 
 moment    it  crosses    the    threshold    of   its 
 heavenly  home,  and  is  encompassed  by  the 
 stupendous  realities  of  an  eternal  condition. 
 Edioin  Davies. 
 HEAVEN— Unknown. 
 Tliough    earth  has  still  many  a  beautiful 
 spot. 
 As  a  poet  or  painter  might  sliow; 
 Yet  more  lovely  and   beautiful,  holy  and 
 
 bright. 
 Is  the  hope  of  the  heart,  and  the  spirit's 
 glad  sight. 
 In  the  land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 
 i  There  the  water  of  life,  bursting  forth  from 
 I  the  throne. 
 
 Flows  on  and  for  ever  will  flow  ; 
 Its  waves  as  they  roll  are  with  melody  rife. 
 And  its  waters  are  sparkling  with  beauty 
 and  life. 
 In  the  land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 
 Oh !  who  but  must  pine  in  this  dark  vale 
 of  tears, 
 From  its  clouds  and  its  shadows  to  go. 
 To  walk  in  the  light  of  the  glory  above. 
 And  to  share  in  the  peace,  and  the  joy,  and 
 the  love, 
 Of  the  land  which  no  mortal  may  know. 
 Anrj)i. 
 HEAVEN— Views  of. 
 
 How  gracious  and  condescending  are 
 many  of  the  aspects  in  which  the  Sci  ip- 
 tui-es  exhibit  the  heaven  of  the  behever. 
 
 It  is  held  forth  to  our  I'iow  as  a  banquet ; 
 where  our  souls  shall  be  satisfied  for  ever- 
 more; the  beauties  of  Jehovah's  face,  the 
 mysteries  of  Divine  grace,  the  riches  of 
 redeeming  love,  communion  with  God  and 
 the  Lamb,  fellowship  with  the  infinite 
 Fathei-,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  being  the 
 heavenly  fulness  on  which  we  shall  feed. 
 As  a  ^^arac/ise ;  a  garden  of  fruits  and 
 flowers,  on  which  our  spiritual  natures  and 
 gracious  tastes  will  be  regaled,  tln-ough 
 one  ever  verdant  spring  and  golden  suia- 
 mer ;  a  paradise  where  lurks  no  serpent  to 
 destroy,  and  where  fruits  and  flowers  shall 
 never  fade  and  droop,  nor  droop  and  die. 
 As  an  inheritance ;  but  then  an  inheri- 
 tance that  is  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and 
 that  fadeth  not  away,  the  inheritance  of 
 the  saints  in  light.  As  a  kingdom ;  whose 
 immunities,  felicities,  and  glories  are  splen- 
 did and  vast,  permanent  and  real,  quite 
 overwhelming  indeed  to  our  present  feeble 
 imaginings.  As  a  country ;  over  whose 
 wide  regions  we  shall  traverse  in  all  the 
 might  of  our  untried  faculties,  and  in  all 
 the  glow  of  new  and  heaven-born  energies, 
 discoveping  and  gathering  fresii  harvests 
 of  intelligence,  satisfaction  and  delight. 
 As  a  city ;  whose  walls  are  burnished  gold, 
 whose  pavement  is  jasper,  sardonyx,  and 
 onyx ;  through  which  flows  the  river  of 
 life ;  the  inhabitants  of  which  hunger  no 
 more,  thirst  no  more,  sicken  no  more,  weep 
 no  more,  die  no  more;  a  city  where  there 
 is  no  need  of  the  sun  by  clay,  in  which 
 there  is  no  night  at  all,  and  of  which  the 
 Lord  God  Almighty  is  the  light,  and  the 
 Lamb  the  glory.  As.  a  -palace ;  where 
 dwells  the  Lord  our  righteousness,  the  King 
 in  His  beauty  displayed — His  beauty  of 
 holiest  love;  in  the  eternal  sunshine  of 
 whose  countenance  bask  and  exult  the  host 
 that  worship  at  His  feet.  As  a  luildlntj ; 
 that  has  God  for  its  Maker,  immortality 
 for  its  walls,  and  eternity  for  its  day.  As 
 a,  sanctuary;  where  the  thriee-lioly  Divinity 
 enshrined  in  our  own  nature  in  the  person 
 of  Immanuel  is  worshipped  and  adored, 
 without  a  sigh,  without  an  imperfection, 
 and  without  intermission ;  where  hymns 
 of  praise,  hallelujahs  of  salvation,  and 
 hosannahs  of  redemption,  uttered  by  blest 
 voices  without  number,  ever  sound  before 
 the  throne.  As  a  temple ;  bright  with  the 
 Divine  glory,  filled  with  the  Divine  pre- 
 sence, streaming  with  Divine  beauty,  and 
 peopled  with  shining  monuments  of  Divine 
 goodness,  mercy,  and  grace. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 Heaven  is  the  diy  of  which  grace  is  the 
 dawn ;  the  rich,  ripe,  fruit  of  which  grace 
 is  the  lovely  flower;  the  inner  shrine  of 
 that  most  glorious  temple  to  which  grace 
 forms  the  approach  and  outer  court. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
HEAVEN. 
 
 HEAVEN— Views  of. 
 Heaven's  the  perfection  of  all  that  can 
 Be  said  or  thought,  riches,  delight,  or  har- 
 mony. 
 Health,  beauty ;  and  all  these  not  subject  to 
 The   waste  of  time,  but   in  their   height 
 eternal.  Shirlei/. 
 
 HEAVEN— Y/ay  to. 
 
 The  way  to  heaven  is  like  that  which 
 Jonathan  and  his  armour-bearer  passed 
 betwixt  two  rocks — one  Bozez,  the  other 
 Seneh ;  that  is,  foul  and  thorny,  whereto 
 we  must  make  shift  to  climb  on  our  hands 
 and  knees;  but  when  we  are  come  up, 
 there  is  victory  and  triumph.  God's 
 children  have  three  suits  of  apparel, 
 whereof  two  are  worn  daily  on  earth  ;  the 
 third  laid  up  for  them  in  the  wardrobe  of 
 heaven.  They  are  ever  either  in  black, 
 mourning ;  iu  red,  persecuted ;  or  in  white, 
 glorious.  Any  way  shall  be  pleasant  to 
 me  that  leads  unto  such  an  end.  It  matters 
 not  what  rags  or  what  colours  I  wear  with 
 men,  so  I  may  walk  with  my  Saviour  in 
 white,  and  reign  with  Him  in  glory. 
 
 Bp.  Hall. 
 
 The  poets  fabulously  fancied  that  the 
 giants  scaled  heaven  by  heaping  mountain 
 upon  mountain.  What  was  their  fancy  is 
 the  Gospel  truth.  If  you  would  get  to 
 heaven  you  must  climb  thither  by  putting 
 Mount  Sion  upon  Mount  Sinai. 
 
 -Bp.  Sopkins. 
 
 ]\ren  Ihink  the  way  to  heaven  broader 
 than  it  is  ;  but  "  strait  is  the  gate  and 
 narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto 
 life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it"  (Matt, 
 vii,  14).  All  say  they  are  going  to  glory, 
 but  the  greater  number  take  the  wrong 
 way.  A  man  somewhat  thicksighted  when 
 he  is  to  pass  over  a  narrow  bridge  puts  on 
 spectacles  to  make  it  seem  broader,  but  so 
 his  eyes  beguile  his  feet,  and  he  falls  into  the 
 brook.  Thus  many  are  drowned  in  the 
 whirlpool  of  sin,  by  viewing  the  passage  to 
 heaven  only  with  the  spectacles  of  flesh 
 and  blood ;  they  think  the  bridge  broad, 
 so  topple  in.  Happy  eyes  that  will  guide 
 the  feet,  and  happy  feet  that  never  rest 
 going  till  they  enter  the  gates  of  heaven. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 HEAVEN— Pilgrim's  Way  to. 
 
 That  wonderful  book  ('  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
 gress'), while  it  obtains  admiration  from 
 the  most  fastidious  critics,  is  loved  by 
 those  who  are  too  simple  to  admire  it.  .  ,  . 
 There  is  no  ascent,  no  declivity,  no  resting- 
 place,  no  turnstile  with  which  we  are  not 
 perfectly  acquainted.  The  wicket  gate 
 and  the  desolate  swamp  which  separates  it 
 from  the  City  of  Destruction,  the  long  line 
 of  road  as  straight  as  a  rule  can  make  it, 
 
 the  Interpreter's  house  and  all  its  fair 
 shows,  the  prisoner  in  the  iron  cage,  the 
 palace,  at  the  doors  of  which  armed  men 
 kept  guard  and  on  the  battlements  of 
 which  walked  persons  clothed  all  in  gold, 
 the  cross  and  the  sepulchre,  the  steep  hill 
 and  the  pleasant  arbour,  the  stately  front 
 of  the  house  Beautiful  by  the  wayside, 
 the  chained  hons  crouching  in  the  porch, 
 the  low  green  Valley  of  Humiliation,  rich 
 with  grass  and  covered  with  flocks, — all  are 
 as  well  known  to  us  as  the  sights  of  our 
 own  street.  Then  we  come  to  the  narrow 
 place  where  Apollyon  strode  right  across 
 the  whole  breadth  of  the  way  to  stop  the 
 journey  of  Christian,  and  where  afterwards 
 the  pillar  was  set  up  to  testify  how  bravely 
 the  pilgrim  had  fought  the  good  fight.  As 
 we  advance,  the  valley  becouies  deeper  and 
 deeper,  the  shade  of  the  precipices  on  both 
 sides  falls  blacker  and  blacker.  The  clouds 
 gather  overhead.  Doleful  voices,  the 
 clanking  of  chains,  and  the  rushing  of 
 many  feet  to  and  fro,  are  heard  through 
 the  darkness.  The  way,  hardly  discernible 
 in  the  gloom,  runs  close  by  the  mouth  of 
 the  burning  pit,  which  sends  forth  its 
 flames,  its  noisome  smoke,  and  its  hideous 
 shapes  to  terrify  the  adventurer.  Thence 
 he  goes  on  amidst  the  snares  and  pitfalls, 
 with  the  mangled  bodies  of  those  who  have 
 perished  in  the  ditch  by  his  side.  At  the 
 end  of  the  long  dark  valley  he  passes  the 
 dens  in  which  the  old  giaiits  dwelt,  amidst 
 the  bones  of  those  whom  they  had  slain. 
 
 Then  the  road  passes  straight  on  through 
 a  waste  moor,  till  at  length  the  towers  of 
 a  distant  city  appear  before  the  traveller  ; 
 and  soon  he  is  in  the  midst  of  the  in- 
 numerable multitudes  of  Vanity  Fair. 
 There  are  the  jugglers  and  the  apes,  the 
 shops  and  the  puppet-shows.  There  are 
 Italian  Row,  and  French  Row,  and  Spanish 
 Row,  and  British  Row,  with  their  crowds 
 of  buyers,  sellers,  and  loungers,  jabbering 
 all  the  languages  of  the  earth. 
 
 Thence  we  go  on  by  the  little  hill  of  the 
 silver  mine,  and  through  the  meadow  of 
 lilies,  along  the  bank  of  that  pleasant  river 
 which  is  bordered  on  both  sides  by  fruit- 
 trees.  On  the  left  branches  oft'  the  path 
 leading  to  the  horrible  castle,  the  court- 
 yard of  which  is  paved  with  the  skulls  of 
 pilgrims ;  and  right  onward  are  the  sheep- 
 folds  and  orchards  of  the  Delectable 
 Mountains. 
 
 From  the  Delectable  Mountains  the 
 way  lies  through  the  fogs  and  briers  of 
 the  enchanted  ground,  with  here  and  there 
 a  bed  of  soft  cushions  spread  under  a 
 green  arbour.  And  beyond  is  the  land  of 
 Beulah,  where  the  flowers,  the  grapes,  and 
 the  songs  of  birds  never  cease,  and  where 
 the  sun  shines  night  and  day.  Thence  are 
 plainly  seen  the  golden  pavements  and 
 streets  of  pearl  on  the  other  side  of  that 
 
HEAVEN— HELL. 
 
 441 
 
 black  and  cold  river  over  which  there  is  no 
 bridge.  Lord  Macaulay. 
 
 HEAVEN— "Welcome  to. 
 
 There  was  an  angel  to  keep  Paradise 
 when  Adam  was  shut  out,  but  there  is 
 none  to  keep  us  out  of  heaven ;  nay,  the 
 angels  are  ready  to  convey  our  souls  to 
 heaven,  as  they  did  Lazarus ;  and  as  they 
 accompanied  Christ  in  His  ascension  to 
 heaven,  so  they  do  the  souls  of  His  children. 
 Sibbes. 
 HEAVEN— Wonders  in. 
 
 If  ever  I  reach  heaven,  I  expect  to  find 
 three  wonders  there  : — First,  to  meet  some 
 I  had  not  thought  to  see  there ;  second,  to 
 meet  some  whom  I  had  expected  to  miss 
 there;  but  third,  the  greatest  wonder  of 
 all  will  be,  to  find  myself  thei-e. 
 
 J.  Newton. 
 HEAVEN  AND  HELL. 
 
 IF  there  be  a  paradise  for  virl,ues,  there 
 must  be  a  hell  for  crimes.  No  less  doth 
 bell  contribute  to  publish  God's  omnipo- 
 tency  than  paradise.  As  heaven  is  fnr- 
 ni>.hed  with  stars,  hell  shall  be  with  the 
 damned,  and  the  justice  of  the  Sovereign 
 will  no  less  appear  in  the  condemnation  of 
 the  culpable  than  in  the  defence  of  inno- 
 cents. N.  Caussin. 
 
 That  which  makes  Heaven  so  fall  of  joy 
 js,  that  heaven  is  above  all  fear ;  and  that 
 which  makes  Hell  so  full  of  terror  is,  that 
 nell  is  below  all  hope.  Heaven  is  a  day 
 wliich  shall  never  see  any  approachings  of 
 night;  and  Hell  is  a  night  that  shall  never 
 see  any  dawnings  of  day.  Venning. 
 
 HEAVEN  AND  HELL— Ways  to. 
 
 Heaven  is  compared  to  a  hill;  and 
 therefore  is  figured  by  Olympus,  among 
 the  heathen ;  by  Mount  Bion,  in  God's 
 book ;  Hell,  contrariwise,  to  a  pit.  The 
 ascent  of  the  one  is  hard  therefore,  and 
 the  descent  to  the  other  easy  and  headlong ; 
 and  so  as  if  we  once  began  to  fall,  the 
 recovery  is  most  difKcult ;  and  not  one  of 
 many  stays  till  he  comes  to  the  bottom.  I 
 will  be  coni.ent  to  pant  and  blow  and 
 sweat  in  climbing  up  to  heaven ;  as,  con- 
 h-arily,  I  will  be  wary  of  setting  the  first 
 step  downwards  towards  the  pit.  For  as 
 there  is  a  Jacob's  ladder  into  heaven,  so 
 there  are  blind  stairs  that  go  winding 
 down  into  death,  whereof  each  makes  way 
 for  another.  From  the  object  is  raised  an  ill 
 suggestion,  suggestion  draws  on  delight,  de- 
 light consent,  consent  endeavour,  endeavour 
 practice,  practice  custom,  custom  excuse, 
 excuse  defence,  defence  obstinacy,  obstinacy 
 boasting  of  sin,  boasting  a  reprobate  sense. 
 I  will  watch  over  my  ways ;  and  do  Thou, 
 Lord,  watch  over  me,  that  1  may  avoid  the 
 first  degrees  of  sin.     And  if  those  overtake 
 
 my  frailty,  yet  keep  me,  that  presnmptuous 
 sins  prevail  not  over  me.  Beginnings  are 
 with  more  ease  and  safety  declined  when 
 we  are  free,  than  proceedings  when  we  have 
 begun.  Bjp.  Mall. 
 
 HELL— By-way  to. 
 
 Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the 
 shepherds  had  them  to  another  place,  in  a 
 bottom,  where  was  a  door  in  the  side  of  a 
 hill;  and  they  opened  the  door,  and  bid 
 them  look  in.  They  looked  in,  therefore, 
 and  saw  that  within  it  was  very  dark  and 
 smoky,  they  also  thought  that  they  heard 
 a  rumbling  noise  as  of  fire,  and  a  cry  of 
 some  tormented ;  and  that  they  smelt  the 
 scent  of  brimstone.  Then  said  Christian, 
 What  means  this  ?  The  shepherd  told  them, 
 Tliis  is  a  by-way  to  hell,  a  way  that  hypo- 
 crites go  in  at;  namely,  such  as  sell  their 
 birthright,  with  Esau;  such  as  sell  their 
 Master,  with  Judas ;  such  as  blaspheme 
 the  Gospel,  with  Alexander  ;  and  such  as 
 lie  and  dissemble,  with  Ananias  and  Sap- 
 phira  his  wife.  Buni/an. 
 
 HELL— Company  of. 
 
 Sometimes  as  you  pass  along  the  street, 
 you  see  a  man  you  think  you  don't  like — 
 there  is  something  in  his  countenance 
 which  distresses  you — you  fancy  you  see 
 the  blasphemer,  the  man  reprobate  in  every 
 good  work,  the  man  steeped  in  all  corrup- 
 tion ;  and  if  one  wei-e  to  whisper  in  your  ear, 
 that  you  must  live  a  month  with  that  man, 
 and  never  be  out  of  bis  society  one  day, 
 you  would  be  atfiicted;  but  if  you  were 
 told  you  must  live  in  bis  fellowsliip  a  whole 
 year  and  never  be  removed  from  the  region 
 of  his  pestiferous  breath  ibr  a  single  mo- 
 ment or  day  in  that  year,  what  an  atlliction 
 would  it  be  !  And  if  you  were  to  spend  a 
 whole  life,  and  never  be  separated  from 
 him  a  single  instant,  what  a  gloom  would 
 it  spi-ead  over  your  mind  !  Hell  is  the 
 place  where  there  are  many  such — where 
 all  the  inhabitants  are  such  :  "  Without 
 are  dogs,  and  sorcerers,  and  whoremongers, 
 and  murderers,  and  idolaters,  and  whoso- 
 ever loveth  and  maketh  a  lie," — whatever 
 is  abominable.  Oh,  tell  me  not  of  the  fir? 
 and  the  worm,  and  the  blackness  and  dark 
 ness  of  hell ;  to  my  terrified  conscience 
 there  is  hell  enough  in  this  representation 
 of  it — that  it  is  the  common  sewer  of  all 
 that  is  abominable  and  abandoned  and 
 reckless  as  to  principle,  and  depraved  as 
 to  morals;  the  one  common  eddy,  where 
 everything  that  is  polluted  and  wretched 
 and  filthy,  is  gathered  together. 
 
 I)r.  Beaumont. 
 HELL — Conscience  in. 
 
 It  has  been  discovered  that  there  are 
 worms  which  eat  and  live  upon  stone.  JIany 
 such  have  been  found  in  a  freestone  wall 
 
442 
 
 HELL. 
 
 in  Normandy.  So  there  rs  a  worm  in  hell 
 — conscience — which  lives  upon  the  stony 
 heart  of  the  coudemned  sinner  for  ever. 
 Oil  earth  grace  did  not  soften  it,  but  there 
 the  worm  that  never  dies  shall  eat  it  with 
 remorse,  world  without  end. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 HELL — Descripticn  of. 
 
 Its  loc-ality  is  untold,  its  creation  and 
 date  are  left  in  obscui'ity,  its  names  are 
 various — but  all  rather  veils  the  discoveries 
 of  what  seams  elaborately  concealed.  It 
 is  hell,  the  hidden  or  sunken  i^lace;  it  is 
 Gehenna  'I'ophet ;  it  is  a  smoke  ascending, 
 as  if  to  darken  the  universe ;  it  is  a  lake 
 burning  with  fire  and  brimstone,  but  of 
 which  the  interior  is  unseen ;  it  is  a  pit 
 bottomless,  a  fire  unquenchable,  a  worm 
 undying,  a  death — the  second  and  the  last ; 
 it  is  "  without,"  yet  not  unvisited  or  un- 
 seen ;  they  shall  be  tormented  in  the  pre- 
 sence of  the  Lamb  and  the  holy  angels ; 
 they  shall  go  forth,  and  look  on  the  car- 
 cases of  them  that  are  slain,  whose  worm 
 dieth  not.  This  is  all,  of  nearly  all  we  know 
 of  it.  And  yet  how  unspeakably  tremen- 
 dous !  Like  the  disjointed  words  upon 
 the  wall  (in  Coleridge's  '  Dream ')  taken 
 singly,  each  word  is  a  riddle — put  them 
 together,  and  what  a  lesson  of  horrid  terror 
 do  they  combine  to  teach  ! 
 
 a.  Gilfillan. 
 
 A  dungeon  horrible,  on  all  sides  round, 
 As  one  great  furnace,  tlam'd,  yet  i'rom  tliose 
 
 flames 
 No  light,  but  rather  darkness  visible 
 Serv'd  only  to  discover  sights  of  woe. 
 Regions  of  sorrow,  doleful  shades,  where 
 
 peace  [comes. 
 
 And   rest    can    never   dwell,   hope    never 
 That  comes  to  all ;  but  torture  without  end 
 Still  urges,  and  a  fiery  deluge,  fed 
 With  burning  sulpliar  uncousum'd. 
 Such  place  eternal  justice  had  prepared 
 For   those   rebellious;    here  their   prison 
 
 ordained 
 In  utter  darkness,  and  their  portion  set 
 As  i'ar  remov'd from  God  and  light  of  heaven 
 As  i'rom  the  centre  thrice  to  th'  utmost 
 
 pole.  Hilton. 
 
 A  black  and  hollow  vault. 
 Where  day  is  never  seen ;  there  shines  no 
 
 sun. 
 But  flaming  horror  of  consuming  fires ; 
 A  lightless  sulphur,    chok'd   with    smoky 
 
 Of  an  infected  darkness. 
 
 John  Ford. 
 
 HELL— Despair  in. 
 
 Which  way  shall  I  fly 
 Infinite  wrath,  and  infinite  desjjair  ? 
 Which  way  I  flee  is  hell, — myself  am  hell, 
 And  in  the  lowest  deep,  a  lower  deep. 
 
 Still  threat'ning  to  devour  me,  opens  wide ; 
 To  which  the  hell  I  sufter  seems  a  heuv'n. 
 
 Is  there  no  place 
 
 Left  for  repentance,  none  for  pardon  left  ? 
 Milton. 
 HELL— Gates  of. 
 
 At  last  appear 
 Hell's  bounds,  high  reaching  to  the  horrid 
 
 roof; 
 And  thrice  threefold  the  gates  ;  three  folds 
 
 were  brass. 
 Three  iron,  three  of  adamantine  rock. 
 Impenetrable,  impaled  with  circling  fire. 
 Yet  unconsumed.  Ibid. 
 
 HELL— Punishment  of. 
 
 A  rebel  who  hath  stabbed  an  earthly 
 prince  but  once,  and  deeply  repents  of  his 
 crime,  is  mercifully  dealt  with  if  he  be  im- 
 prisoned for  life,  were  he  to  live  a  thousand 
 years.  An  impenitent  sinner  hath  risen 
 against  the  Majesty  of  Heaven  a  million  of 
 times,  and  "  crucified  the  Prince  of  Life 
 afresh,"  for,  it  may  be,  ten,  twenty,  forty 
 years.  What  is  more,  he  goes  on  still  in 
 his  rebellion ;  and  his  talk  of  repenting 
 to-morrow  is  only  a  contrivance  to  sin 
 with  more  cheerfulness  to-day.  Now,  if 
 he  die  in  this  state,  shall  God  be  unjust  in 
 condemning  him  fur  life  to  the  prison  of 
 hell,  and  punisliing  with  infinite  woe  sins 
 committed  against  an  infinite  Majesty — 
 sins  from  which  he  should  have  been  de- 
 terred by  considerations  of  infinite  force ; 
 in  short,  sins  in  which  he  would  have  lived 
 for  ever,  had  not  death  interposed  ? 
 
 J.  Fletcher. 
 
 One  objection  to  this  subject  is  this.  It 
 is  said, — 
 
 "  Eternal  punishment  is  too  long  as  a 
 penalty  for  the  sins  of  a  short  life." 
 
 None  but  God  can  judge  here.  The  im- 
 portant question  is.  Was  the  transgressor 
 duly  notified  ?  He  is  in  a  foreign  land, 
 and  is  made  fully  a-cquainted  with  a  law 
 and  its  penalty,  which  he  thinks  is  ex- 
 ceedingly severe.  The  government,  how- 
 ever, have  special  reasons  for  the  enact- 
 ment ;  but  he  jjrefers  the  risk  of  the  penalty 
 to  the  loss  of  a  certain  benefit,  and  is 
 without  excuse,  for  he  transgressed  with 
 his  eyes  open. 
 
 Is  it  just  for  one  to  lose  so  much  in 
 consequence  of  so  brief  a  period  of  trans- 
 gression ?  This  depends  on  the  inlbrma- 
 tion  possessed  beforehand.  A  passenger 
 by  the  steamer  does  not  expect  that,  if 
 notice  of  the  hour  of  departure  is  communi- 
 cated to  him,  the  bell  will  toll  a  whole 
 day,  or  even  an  hour  for  his  dilatorincss. 
 He  may,  by  losing  the  voyage,  change 
 the  prospect  of  life,  and  one  half  minute 
 can  decide  whether  it  shall  be  so. 
 
 Forgery,  arson,  manslaughter,  conceived 
 
HELL. 
 
 443 
 
 and  executed  in  the  briefest  space  of  time, 
 have  no  valid  defence  in  the  shortness  of 
 the  time  occupied  by  tlie  deed.  A  day  is 
 not  too  short  in  which  to  commit  a  crime 
 which  will  be  punished  by  imprisonment 
 for  life.  We  take  away  a  man's  whole 
 life,  and  he  a  young  man,  for  an  act  com- 
 mitted within  one  hour. 
 
 If  a  note  has  matured,  bankruptcy  is  not 
 arrested  because  the  jjromissor  received 
 only  one  notice. 
 
 •  We  probably  never  heard  it  objected  to 
 eternal  salvation,  that  it  is  too  long  to  be 
 the  consequence  and  reward  of  this  brief 
 life.  That  heaven  is  promised  to  the 
 righteous,  and  that  it  will  be  without  end, 
 no  one  doubts.  But  what  if  we  should 
 say,  as  we  might  with  as  good  reason 
 as  *in  objecting  to  endless  punishment, 
 "  Life  is  too  short  in  which  to  merit 
 heaven;  we  ought  to  be  subjected  after 
 death  to  a  longer  probation,  be  placed  in 
 new  circumstances  of  trial  for  a  period 
 that  should  bear  some  proportion  to  the 
 gTeatness  of  the  reward."  What  period  of 
 trial  would  be  thought  an  equivalent  for 
 measureless  felicity,  it  would  be  hard  in- 
 deed to  say  ;  and  we  are  therefore  led  to  the 
 principle  that  the  length  of  time  in  which 
 good  or  evil  actions  take  place  is  no  proper 
 measure  of  their  desert.  We  act  upon  this 
 principle  in  everything.  N.  Adams. 
 
 How  it  commends  itself  to  our  faith, 
 may  be  learned  by  knowing  that  the  doc- 
 trine does  not  stand  as  an  isolated  thing 
 in  our  belief.  The  laws  of  comparative 
 anatomy,  so  to  speak,  may  be  applied  to  it, 
 and  we  say,  If  certain  things  are  true, 
 which  in  our  earliest  discoveries  of  prac- 
 tical truth  we  are  confident  are  essential  to 
 salvation,  then  this  doctrine  is  as  really 
 required  as  immense  vertebrae  of  an  un- 
 known animal  require  that  the  undis- 
 covered ribs  should  also  be  immense.  An 
 astronomer  notices  the  slower  or  quicker 
 rate  of  motion  in  a  planet  at  one  part  of 
 its  orbit,  and  he  tells  you  that  there  must 
 be  a  world  beyond  it,  not  yet  seen  ;  he 
 tells  you  its  size,  its  gravity,  its  orbit,  its 
 rate  of  motion  ;  and  when  at  last  Neptune 
 is  discovered,  it  proves  to  be  precisely  that 
 which  Uranus  dictated  by  his  perturba- 
 tions. So  that  the  doctrine  of  endless  re- 
 tribution is  not,  with  us,  a  mere  dogma ; 
 it  belongs  to  a  great  scheme  of  revealed 
 truth  which  we  call  the  "  plan  of  redemp- 
 tion," all  of  which  stands  or  falls  together. 
 Ibid. 
 HELL — Repentance  in. 
 
 It  is  said  by  some  that  so  soon  as  the  soul 
 of  the  sinner  is  separated  from  sense,  and 
 experiences  in  the  next  world  the  evil  con- 
 sequences of  sin,  those  evil  consequences 
 will  lead  to  repentance.     We  answer  that 
 
 repentance  in  view  of  the  experience  of 
 evil  or  the  fear  of  evil,  is  repentance 
 toward  self,  not  toward  God.  The  more 
 men  repent  from  an  experience  of  evil  con- 
 sequences, the  more  they  are  damned. 
 The  thief  always  repents  when  the  sheriff 
 arrests  him.  Death  forces  many  men  to 
 submit,  others  to  repent.  Such  repentance 
 is  by  necessity;  or  in  view  of  conse(iuences, 
 not  in  view  of  God's  goodness  and  of  the 
 evil  of  sin.  Some  weak  people  talk  of  re- 
 pentance on  the  gallows.  Dying  sinners  and 
 murderers  often  repent,  but  it  is  a  repent- 
 ance forced  in  view  of  the  termination  of 
 their  moral  agency.  In  this  world,  "  re- 
 pentance toward  God,"  works  by  reforma- 
 tion ;  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
 works  by  love.  In  the  world  of  doom, 
 when  moral  probation  is  ended,  repentance, 
 by  the  necessity  of  the  case,  works  by  re- 
 morse ;  and  faith  by  trembling.  "  The 
 devils  believe  in  one  God  and  tremble." 
 
 J.  B.  W^alker. 
 HELL — Torments  of. 
 
 In  this  place 
 Dwell   many   thousand   thousand    sundry 
 
 sorts 
 Of  never-dying  deaths  ;  there  damned  souls 
 Roar  without  pity  ;  there  are  gUittons  fed 
 With  toads  and  adders ;    there  is  burning 
 
 oil 
 Pour'd  down  the  drunkard's  throat:    th. 
 
 usurer 
 Is  forc'd  to  sup  whole  drafts  of  molten  gold 
 There  is  the  murderer  for  ever  stabb'd. 
 Yet  can  never  die ;  there  lies  the  wanton 
 On  racks  of  burning  steel,  while  in  his  soul 
 He  feels  the  torment  of  his  raging  lust. 
 
 John  Ford. 
 HEROISM— True. 
 
 It's  not  the  martial  host. 
 
 Nor  troops  which  line  a  coast. 
 That  claim  the  jealous  meed 
 Of  sacred  Valour's  deed, 
 Nor   whether   admiral    or    captain 
 bleed ; 
 
 But  the  heroic  soul 
 That  gives  the  high  control 
 Which  others  are  to  feel. 
 That  arms  their  breast  in  steel, 
 And  leads  to  enterprise  the  foaming 
 keel. 
 
 It  saves  a  falling  State  ; 
 
 It  seals  a  Tyrant's  fate ; 
 
 It  flam'd  in  JIardiiiqe's  eye, 
 When,  at  the  battle's  cry, 
 It  bade  him    like   the    conquering 
 Nelson  die.  Maciuiosk, 
 
 HILLS— Importance  of. 
 
 All  Divine  affairs  of  any  magnificence 
 were  done  on  hills.  On  the  hill  Sinai  was 
 the  law  delivered  ;  on  the  hill  of  Moriah 
 was  Isaac  to  be  sacriticed ;    on  the  hill  of 
 
444 
 
 HOLINESS. 
 
 EepliMim  stood  Moses  with  the  rod  ot 
 God  in  his  stretched  hand,  and  figured 
 Him  crucified  upon  the  hill,  whom  Joshua 
 fi><ured  victorious  iu  the  valley;  on  the 
 hills  of  Ebal  and  Gerizim  were  the  bless- 
 inos  and  curses  :  on  Oarmel  was  Elijah's 
 sacrifice ;  the  Fhrondskria,  schools  or 
 universities  of  the  prophets,  were  Earanh 
 and  G  ibeah,  exceJsa,  high  places ;  who 
 knows  not  that  on  the  hill  of  Sion  stood 
 the  temple?  "I  have  looked  up  to  the 
 hills,"  saith  the  Psalmist ;  and  idolatry, 
 in  imitation,  had  their  hill-altars.  On  the 
 flaunt  of  Olives  was  Christ  wont  to  send 
 up  His  prayers,  and  sent  up  Himself;  and 
 here,  Luke  saith  (in  connection  with  His 
 transfiguration),  "He  went  up  to  a  high 
 hi^,  to  pray."  B2}.  Hall. 
 
 HOLINESS— of  the  AfFections. 
 
 Our  love  is  holy  when  we  can  delight  in 
 God,  His  purity,  His  justice,  His  mercy, 
 and  His  truth.  Our  hatred  is  holy  when 
 we  hate  "  the  abominable  thing  which  His 
 soul  hateth,"  and  steadfastly  abhor  iuiquity. 
 Our  hope  is  holy  when  it  is  like  the  "anchor 
 of  the  soul,"  and  eutereth  that  which  is 
 "within  the  veil,  whither  the  Forerunner 
 is  for  us  entered"  (Heb.  vi.  20) ;  ami  when 
 it  refuses  to  fix  upon  any  eai-thly  and 
 shifting  object.  Our  fear  is  holy  when  we 
 "  fear  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of  enter- 
 ing into  His  rest,  any  of  us  should  seem  to 
 come  short  of  it"  (Heb.  iv.  1).  Our 
 affiance  is  holy  when  it  rests  upon  the 
 truth  of  the  divine  promises,  and  confides 
 with  unwavering  repose  in  the  Divine 
 character ;  and  our  distrust  is  holy  when 
 it  is  exercised  iu  reference  to  decisions  of 
 mere  human  authority,  aud  the  secret 
 motions  of  our  own  hearts.         A.  Barrett. 
 
 HOLINESS— Antiquity  of. 
 
 Holiness  as  a  doctrine  for  man's  belief 
 and  practice  is  not  of  modern  date.  It  is 
 as  old  as  Adam  iu  Paradise ;  for  he  was 
 created  in  "true  holiness,"  the  image  of 
 God.  After  his  fiill,  it  was  a  doctrine  in- 
 cluded iu  the  Divine  revelations.  You  see 
 it  is  the  distinction  made  between  clean 
 and  uncleau  beasts  ;  in  the  divers  washings, 
 cleansings,  and  anointings,  under  the  law  ; 
 in  the  variety  of  sacrifices.  You  see  it  in 
 the  lives  of  many  of  the  Old  Testament 
 characters;  also  in  many  of  the  precepts 
 and  promises  given  to  the  patriarchs  and 
 prophets.  John  Bute. 
 
 HOLINESS— Definitions  of. 
 
 The  essence  of  true  holiness  consists  in 
 conformity  to  the  nature  and  will  of  God. 
 Dr.  Lucas. 
 
 Holiness  consisteth  not  in  a  cowl  or 
 in  a  garment  of  gray.  AA'^hini  God  purifies  j 
 the  heart  by  faith,  the  market  is  sacred  as  j 
 
 well  as  the  sanctuary.     Keither  remaineth 
 there  any  work  or  place  which  is  i^rofaue. 
 Lxither. 
 HOLINESS— Description  of. 
 
 Christian  holiness  is  no  fabrication  of 
 man,  aud  differs  as  much  from  ritual  and 
 conventional  sanctity  as  the  temide  filled 
 with  God  difiered  from  the  same  temple 
 just  as  it  was  left  by  the  builder's  hand. 
 To  be  holy  is  not  to  be  wrapt  in  entranced 
 and  unearthly  contemplation,  as  was 
 Simeon  Stylites,  and  the  so-called  pillar 
 saints ;  it  is  not  to  retire  into  solitude,  to 
 leave  the  active  duties  of  life  aud  the 
 trying  anxieties  of  the  Church  unto  others, 
 with  a  view  to  gain  that  grace  in  seclusion 
 which  Christ  has  chiefly  promised  to  im- 
 part to  His  people  in  fellowship  (Eph.'iL 
 5,  6),  as  did  Basil.  It  is  not  to  be  clad 
 with  a  white  garment  at  Easter,  and,  in 
 connection  with  others,  a  surpliced  band, 
 to  overawe  the  imagination  with  the 
 shadow  of  piety,  as  did  the  catechumens 
 of  Chrysostom.  It  is  not  to  take  monastic 
 vows,  to  cross  the  Creator's  design,  to  for- 
 sake domestic  life,  as  devout  men  were 
 advised  to  do  by  Jerome.  It  is  not  to  in- 
 terlard our  corumon  conversation  with  re- 
 ligious phrases,  and  passages  of  Scri[>ture, 
 aud  to  be  continually  adverting  to  the 
 feelings  and  actings  of  the  soul,  as  did 
 Oliver  Cromwell  aud  the  more  rigid  of 
 the  Presbyterian  Puritans.  It  is  not  to 
 bend  aud  bow  before  patterns  of  sacred 
 things,  as  did  Archbishop  Laud,  and  as  do 
 the  modem  tractarians.  It  is  not  to  in- 
 vest the  family  circles  to  which  we  be- 
 long with  the  solemnity  of  a  funeral, 
 and  to  cast  upon  every  person  aud  thing 
 the  frown  of  a  rebuking  censorship.  K"o  ; 
 that  which  resembles  some  of  these  things 
 may  be  associated  with  holiness,  but  the 
 blessing  itsidf  is  of  a  totally  different 
 nature.  It  consists  in  our  having  the 
 moral  image  of  God,  in  our  being  like 
 our  Father  in  heaven.  The  power  of  sin 
 is  broken,  and  the  Divine  likeness  is  im- 
 pressed upon  us.  The  likeness,  it  is  true, 
 is  immensely  distant  from  the  original,  so 
 faint  is  the  copy  ;  yet  it  is  a  likeness  of 
 Him,  and  no  other.  The  seal  has  been 
 apijlied  to  the  wax,  aud  the  identical 
 features  have  left  their  stamp.  As  Howe 
 well  observes,  "the  image  is  made  in  the 
 wax  iu  hoUoics;  while  it  exists  in  the  seal 
 in  an  outbulging  fulness."  Tliis  well  re- 
 presents the  fact,  tliat  the  likeness  of  God 
 is  seen  in  us,  rather  in  our  receiving  and 
 containing  His  character  than  in  our  pos- 
 sessing it  as  a  part  of  ourselves.  We  are 
 holy,  just  as  here  and  there  a  point  or 
 leature  of  God's  gracious  fulness  is  im- 
 printed upon  our  nature,  when  that  nature 
 is  made  soft;  and  yielding  by  converting 
 grace.      How    little    then    has    anything 
 
HOLINESS. 
 
 445 
 
 formal  and  extcrncal  to  do  with  tliis  great 
 and  blessed  attaiumeut.  A.  Barrett. 
 
 HOLIIIESS— Diffusing-. 
 
 Holiness  is  the  only  means  by  which 
 holiness  can  be  diffused.  It  is  like  salt, 
 its.  usefulness  to  others  must  begin  with 
 itself.  The  man  who  fails  to  persuade 
 himself  to  be  holy  is  sure  to  be  unsuccess- 
 ful with  others.  It  is  the  wise  man  that 
 can  impart  wisdom  to  others,  it  is  the 
 good  man  that  can  diffuse  goodness,  and 
 it  is  only  the  holy  man  that  can  diffuse 
 holiness.  Every  man  can  bring  forth  to 
 othei-s  only  out  of  the  treasures  deposited 
 first  in  his  own  lieart.  He  who  undertakes 
 to  restore  mankind  to  clear-sightedness 
 must  be  of  clear  and  accurate  vision  him- 
 self, for  he  who  has  a  beam  in  his  own  eye 
 is  not  likely  to  remove  either  beam  or 
 mote  from  the  eye  of  the  world.  The 
 physician,  who  is  to  restore  health  to 
 others,  must  not  himself  be  fretting  with 
 the  leprosy.  Dr.  T.  W.  Jcnkyn. 
 
 HOLINESS— Example  of. 
 
 Christ  is  the  pattern,  the  sample,  the 
 exemplary  cause,  of  our  sanctihcation. 
 Holiness  in  us  is  the  copy  or  transcript 
 of  the  holiness  that  is  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
 (Jolm  i.  16).  As  the  wax  hath  line  for 
 line  from  the  seal,  the  child  limb  for  limb, 
 feature  for  feature,  from  the  father,  so  is 
 holiness  in  lis  from  Cllirist.  F.  Henry. 
 
 HOLINESS— Happiness  in. 
 
 If  a  physician  were  called  to  see  a  patient 
 who  had  a  cancer  on  his  breast,  the  only 
 thing  to  be  done  would  be  to  cut  it  out 
 from  the  roots.  The  physician  miglit  give 
 palliatives,  so  that  the  patient  would  have 
 less  i)ain, — or  he  might  make  his  patient 
 believe  it  was  no  cancer, — or  forget  that  he 
 had  a  cancer  near  his  vitals ;  but  if  the 
 physician  were  to  do  this  instead  of  remov- 
 ing the  evil,  he  would  be  a  wicked  man 
 and  the  enemy  of  his  patient.  The  man's 
 case  was  such  that  the  only  favour  which 
 could  be  conferred  upon  him  would  be  to 
 cut  out  the  cancer.  Now  all  agree  that 
 sin  is  the  great  evil  of  the  soul  of  man. 
 Kothing  can  make  man  more  spiritually 
 happy  here,  or  fit  him  for  happiness  here- 
 after, but  the  removal  of  sin  from  his 
 nature.  Sin  is  the  plague-spot  on  the  soul, 
 which  destroys  its  peace,  and  threatens  its 
 destruction  unless  removed.  It  is  therefore 
 certain  that  if  the  love  of  God  were  mani- 
 fested towards  man,  it  would  be  in  turning 
 man  from  sin  which  produces  misery,  to 
 holiness  which  produces  hap])iness. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 HOLINESS— Influence  of. 
 
 There  is  an  energy  of  moral  suasion  in  a 
 
 good  man's  life,  passing  the  highest  efforts 
 of  the  orator's  genius.  The  seen  but 
 silent  beauty  of  holiness  speaks  more  elo, 
 quently  of  God  and  duty  than  the  tongues 
 of  men  and  angels.  Let  parents  remem- 
 ber this.  The  best  iuheritance  a  parent 
 can  bequeath  to  a  child  is  a  virtuous  ex- 
 ample, a  legacy  of  hallowed  remembrances 
 and  associations.  The  beauty  of  holiness 
 beaming  through  the  life  of  a  loved  re- 
 lative, or  friend,  is  more  effectual  to 
 strengthen  such  as  do  stand  in  virtue's 
 ways,  and  raise  up  those  who  are  bowed 
 down,  than  precejit,  command,  entreaty,  or 
 warning.  Christianity  itself,  I  believe, 
 owes  by  far  the  greater  part  of  its  moral 
 jiower,  not  to  the  precepts  or  parables  of 
 Christ,  but  to  His  own  character.  The 
 beauty  of  that  holiness  which  is  enshrined 
 in  the  four  brief  biographies  of  the  Man 
 of  Nazareth  has  done  more  and  will  do 
 more  to  regenerate  the  world  and  bring  in 
 everlasting  righteousness,  than  all  the 
 other  agencies  put  together.  It  has  done 
 more  to  spread  His  religion  in  the  world, 
 than  all  that  has  ever  been  preached  or 
 written  on  the  evidences  of  Christianity. 
 
 Dr.  C/uibners. 
 
 There  is  a  moral  omnipotence  in  holiness. 
 Argument  may  be  resisted  ;  per.suasion  and 
 entreaty  may  be  scorned.  The  thrilling 
 appeals  and  monitions  of  the  ])ulpit,  set 
 forth  with  all  vigour  and  logic,  and  all 
 the  glow  of  eloquence,  may  be  evaded  or 
 disregarded.  But  the  exhibition  of  ex- 
 alted piety  has  a  might  which  nothing  can 
 withstand  ;  it  is  truth  embodied  ;  it  is  the 
 Gospel  burning  in  the  hearts,  beaming 
 from  the  eyes,  breathing  from  the  lijis, 
 and  preaching  in  the  lives  of  its  votaries. 
 No  sophistry  can  elude  it,  no  conscience 
 can  ward  it  oft';  no  bosom  wears  a  mail 
 that  can  brave  the  energy  of  its  attack. 
 It  speaks  in  all  languages,  in  all  climes, 
 and  to  all  phases  of  our  nature.  It  is  uni- 
 versal— invincible;  and  clad  in  immortal 
 panoply,  goes  on  from  victory  to  vicimy. 
 Anon. 
 
 HOLINESS— Life  of. 
 
 Holiness  is  the  life  of  the  Church  ;  it  is 
 this  that  makes  the  Church  a  living  body, 
 and  consequently  the  means  and  agent  of 
 its  own  growth  and  happiness.  A  living 
 thing  grows  from  itself,  and  not  by  acces- 
 sion from  without  as  a  house  or  a  ship 
 grows.  A  flower  does  not  grow  by  adding 
 a  leaf  to  it,  nor  a  tree  by  fastening  a 
 branch  to  it,  nor  man  by  fixing  a  limb  to 
 his  frame.  Everything  that  has  life  grows 
 by  a  converting  process,  which  transforms 
 the  food  into  means  of  nourishment  and  of 
 growth  and  enlargement.  A  holy  church 
 lives,  and  its  Ivdine.ss  converts  all  its  ordi- 
 nances and  provisions  into  means  of  deep- 
 
HOLINESS— HOLINESS  AND  PEHFECT  LOVE. 
 
 rooted,  solid,  enlii-ged,  and  beautiful  use- 
 fulness. Dr.  T.  W.  Jcnkyn. 
 
 HOLINESS— Meaning  of. 
 
 Holiness,  in  the  sac-red  Scriptures,  means 
 a  hallowed  state,  a  full,  entire,  and  iin- 
 jiartial  coiiseciation  to  the  service  and  the 
 use  of  God,  a  definite  separation  and  dedi- 
 cation to  His  purjiuses  and  pleasure,  so  as 
 that  to  be  otherwise  employed  would  he  a 
 desecration — a  profanation.  Ibid. 
 
 HOLINESS— Origin  of. 
 
 Holiness  is  something  of  God,  wherever 
 it  is.  It  is  an  efllnx  from  Him,  and  lives 
 iu  Him  ;  as  the  sunbeams,  aitliough  they 
 gild  this  lower  world,  aud  spread  their 
 golden  wings  over  us,  yet  they  are  not  so 
 much  here  where  they  shine  as  in  the  sun 
 from  whence  they  flow.  Cudworth. 
 
 HOLINESS— Personal. 
 
 Personal  holiness  is  the  first  and  foremost 
 tribute,  wliich  we  owe  to  the  Holy  Spirit, 
 for  the  Master's  use,  and  we  are  to  olfer 
 Him  no  other  service  until  this  be  paid. 
 Pliarnaces,  says  the  Roman  historian,  sent 
 to  Caisar  the  jiresent  of  a  diadem,  while  he 
 was  yet  rebelling  against  his  throne. 
 Cajsar  returned  it  with  this  sententious  and 
 admonitory  message,  "First  of  all  yield 
 oliedience,  and  then  make  presents."  The 
 spirit  and  the  truth  of  this  message  is 
 a<ldresscd  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  every 
 Christian  aud  to  every  church. 
 
 Dr.  T.  JF.  Jenkyn. 
 
 HOLINESS— Practical. 
 
 The  shining  love  of  John,  the  burning 
 arid  shining  zeal  of  Paul,  were  a  splendid 
 conmient  on  their  words,  and  have  caused 
 the  way  of  God  to  be  known  on  earth  better 
 than  the  arguments  of  all  the  schoolmen. 
 Tlie  shining  holiness  and  far-reaching  fer- 
 vour of  Swartz  and  Eliot  and  Zinzendorf 
 made  known  to  entire  communities  the 
 great  salvation, — the  saving  healtli  of  God. 
 The  shining  sanctity  of  Fenelon  sent  away 
 from  under  his  roof  the  scoffing  Earl  of 
 Peterborough,  with  the  exclamation,  "I 
 must  not  stay  here,  or  I  shall  become  a 
 Christian  in  si)ite  of  myself ; "  and  the  shin- 
 ing generosity  of  Henry  Thornton  led  some 
 one  to  remark,  "It  is  not  more  Boyle  and 
 Bami>tou  Lectures  that  are  wanted  to 
 convert  the  world  ;  it  wants  a  thousand 
 Henry  Thorntons."  Anon. 
 
 HOLINESS— in  Religion. 
 
 Holiness  is  in  religion  what  taste  is  in 
 the  philoso{ihy  of  mind.  It  is  a  state  of 
 the  soul,  and  not  an  emotion  of  the  heart. 
 It  is  not  a  distinct  and  specific  virtue  itself, 
 but  it  makes  everything  which  it  alfects 
 and  touehns,  virtuous.  It  is  not  itself  an 
 independent  grace,  but  it  gives  the  hue, 
 
 aud  throws  odour  of  graciousness  on  every 
 thing  accomplished  by  the  soul. 
 
 Anoii» 
 HOLINESS— Eight  to. 
 
 I  have  read  of  a  man  who  sued  a  railway 
 company  for  a  cent.  He  believed  it  to  be 
 his  right.  The  law  gave  him  his  rigljt. 
 Let  the  Christian  be  as  tenacious  for  his 
 right,  which  is,  holiness  complete  and  entii'c. 
 Let  him  seek  it  in  the  covenant  of  grace  ; 
 and  what  the  law  of  the  country  did  for 
 that  man,  the  law  of  grace  in  the  court  of 
 heaven  shall  do  for  him.  He  shall  have 
 the  utmost  particle  that  is  his  due. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 HOLINESS— Satisfaction  of. 
 
 The  knowledge  of  God  and  conformity 
 to  Him  are  in  their  own  nature  apt  to 
 satisfy  the  desires  of  the  soul,  and  even 
 now  actually  do  so  in  the  measure  wherein 
 they  are  attained.  Some  things  are  not  of 
 a  satisfying  nature  ;  there  is  nothing  tend- 
 ing to  satisfaction  in  them.  And  then  the 
 continual  heaping  together  of  such  things 
 doth  no  more  towards  satisfaction  than  the 
 accumulating  of  mathematical  points  would 
 towards  the  compacting  of  a  solid  body,  or 
 the  multiplication  of  ciphers  only,  to  the 
 making  of  a  sum.  But  the  hungry,  craving 
 soul,  that  would  fain  be  happy,  but  knows 
 not  how,  needs  not  spend  its  days  in 
 making  uncertain  guesses  and  fruitless 
 attempts  and  trials,  it  may  fix  its  hovering 
 thouglits,  aud  upon  assurance  here  given, 
 say,  "I  have  now  found  at  last  where 
 satisfaction  may  be  had ;  and  have  only 
 this  to  do,  to  bend  all  ray  powers  hither 
 and  intend  this  one  thing,  the  possessing 
 myself  of  this  blessed  rest.  Happy  dis- 
 covery !  welcome  tidings  !  I  now  know  to 
 which  way  to  turn  my  eye  and  direct  my 
 pursuit.  I  shall  no  longer  spend  myself 
 in  dubious  toilsome  wanderings,  in  anxi  us 
 vain  inquiry.  I  have  fonnd  it !  I  have 
 found  it !  blessedness  is  here." 
 
 John  Howe, 
 
 HOLINESS  AND  PESFECT  LOVE. 
 
 We  may  distinguish  between  holiness 
 and  "periect  love,"  the  latter  denoting  the 
 state  01  the  ai.ections  which  arises  from  the 
 purification  oi  the  heart.  Fear  is  the  off- 
 spring of  sin,  and  therefore  it  is  that  "he 
 that  feareth  is  not  made  perfect  in  love." 
 But  as  deliverance  from  all  sin  removes 
 every  cause  of  fear,  perfect  love  is  the  pro- 
 duct of  holiness;  for  "herein  is  our  love 
 made  perfect,  that  we  may  have  boldness  in 
 the  day  of  judgment ;  because  as  He  is,  so 
 are  ivc  in  this  world."  It  is  not  holiness, 
 but  the  fruit  of  it ;  and  results  from  purity 
 of  heart,  as  "peace  with  God  through  our 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ"  results  from  our  justi- 
 fication. Cleansed  from  all  sin,  we  love 
 God  with  all  the  heart,  and  our  neighbour 
 
HOLUfESS  AND  SANCTIFICATION— HOLY  SPIRIT. 
 
 447 
 
 as  ourselves  ;  and  thus  "the  righteousness 
 of  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  us  who  walk  not 
 after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit." 
 
 /.  Miley. 
 
 HOLINESS  AND  SANCTIFICATION. 
 
 By  most  writers  on  the  subject  of 
 Christian  purity,  holiness  is  regarded 
 as  s-ynonymous  with  "  sanctificatiou  "  and 
 "perfect  love."  To  our  mind,  however, 
 there  is  such  a  distinction  between  them, 
 as  to  forbid  their  use  interchangeably, 
 when  we  essay  to  ^ive  clear  and  detiuite 
 notions  of  the  specific  Spiritual  irajjort  of 
 evangelical  holiness.  Sauctifieatiou  and 
 holiness  are  not  duplicates  of  the  same 
 idea,  whatever  plausibility  may  arise  to 
 the  contrary  from  their  etymology ;  or 
 they  are  so  only  in  the  sense  that  two 
 circles  may  have  a  common  centre  ;  while 
 they  dill'cr  in  the  plain  circumstance  that 
 the  greater  necessarily  includes  the  less. 
 Freedom  from  all  sin  includes  sanctifica- 
 tion,  but  is  to  be  distinguished  from  it  as 
 a  process  is  distinguished  from  a  result. 
 Sauctification  is  "that  work  of  God's  grace 
 bv  which  we  are  renewed  after  the  image 
 of  God,  set  apart  for  His  service,  and  en- 
 abled to  die  unto  sin,  and  live  unto 
 righteousness,"  and  most  clearly  defines  a 
 progressive  work,  which,  when  completed, 
 issues  in  holiness.  "The  ver}'  God  of 
 peace  sanctify  you  whnUy,"  is  inspired 
 proof  of  our  position  ;  for  it  most  obviously 
 teaches  that,  in  order  to  make  sanctifira- 
 tion  ihe  equivalent  of  holiness,  it  must  be 
 qualified  by  some  word  which  gives  to  it 
 the  signification  of  a  com2)lelcd  process. 
 They  cover  then  different  spaces  of  mean- 
 ing, holiness  embracing  what  sanctifi cation 
 does  not,  namely,  freedom  from  all  sin. 
 
 /.  Miley. 
 
 HOLINESS  AND  SANCTITY. 
 
 Holiness  is  to  the  mind  of  a  man  what 
 sanctity  is  to  his  exterior  ;  with  this  difler- 
 ence,  that  holiness,  to  a  certain  degree, 
 ought  to  belong  to  every  man  professing 
 Christianity  ;  but  sanctity,  as  it  lies  in  the 
 manners,  the  outward  garb  and  deport- 
 Diout,  is  becoming  only  to  certain  persons, 
 and  at  certain  times. 
 
 Holiness  is  a  thing  not  to  be  affected ; 
 it  is  that  genuine  characteristic  of  Chris- 
 tianity which  is  altogether  sjiiritual,  and 
 cannot  be  counterfeited  ;  sanctity,  on  the 
 other  hand,  is,  from  its  very  nature,  ex- 
 posed to  falsehood,  and  the  least  to  be 
 trusted  ;  when  it  displays  itself  in  indivi- 
 duals, either  by  the  sorrowfulness  of  their 
 looks,  or  the  singular  cttt  of  their  garments, 
 or  other  singularities  of  action  and  gesture, 
 it  is  of  the  most  questionable  nature  ;  but, 
 in  one  who  performs  the  sacerdotal  office, 
 it  is  a  useful  appendage  to  the  solemuity 
 of  the  scene,  which  excites  a  reverential 
 
 regard  to  the  individual  in  the  mind  of 
 the  beholder,  and  the  most  exalted  senti- 
 ments of  that  religion  which  he  thus 
 adorns  by  his  outward  profession. 
 
 G.  Crahb. 
 
 HOLY  SPIKIT— Agents  of  the. 
 
 In  all  experiments  for  the  education  and 
 transmission  of  the  mysterious  influences 
 of  nature,  the  philosoj)her  is  concerned 
 that  his  apparatus  and  instruments  should 
 be  clean  and  bright,  free  from  rust  and 
 dirt,  and  clear  from  everything  opposed  to 
 the  character  of  the  physical  energies  them- 
 selves, and  from  everything  calculated  to 
 check  and  prevent  their  develo]iment  and 
 results.  Equally  careful  is  the  Holy  Spirit 
 that  iill  His  instruments  iji  the  Church 
 should  be  clean  from  all  sin. 
 
 Dr.  T.  W.  Jenhyn- 
 
 HOLY  SriEIT— Blasphemy  against  the. 
 
 You  constantly  hear  men  speak  of  sin- 
 ning against  the  Holy  Ghost  as  an  unpar- 
 donable thing ;  but  what  Christ  speaks  of 
 is  "bl.ispliemy"  against  the  Holy  Ghost. 
 Surely  these  ought  not  to  be  confounded  ! 
 .\11  blasphemy  is  sin,  but  all  sin  is  not 
 blasphemy.  Blasphemy  is  a  sin  of  the 
 tongue — exclusively  of  the  tongue  ;  and  no 
 man  can  be  guilty  of  blasphemy  unless  he 
 use  reviling,  insulting,  impious  language. 
 If  you  examine  carefully  the  several  ac- 
 counts of  the  three  evangelists,  you  will 
 observe  it  was  evil  speakiug  which  called 
 forth  Christ's  rebuke.  It  was  because  the 
 scribes  said  He  had  an  unclean  spirit,  that 
 they  committed  what  may  not  be  forgiven. 
 All  the  sins  which  men  commit  are  capable 
 of  being  classed  under  three  heads ;  as 
 being  either  in  thought,  in  word,  or  in 
 deed  :  but  blasphemy  against  the  Holy 
 Ghost  can  only  be  referred  to  the  second  of 
 these.  And  no  person  can  have  a  right  to 
 confound  it  with  the  sin  of  thought,  or  of 
 deed.  Hence  we  are  at  a  loss  to  under- 
 stand, and  we  say  so  for  the  comfort  of 
 those  who  maybe  harassed  by  fears,  h^w 
 any  one  can  be  reckoned  to  have  done  that 
 which  Christ  saith  shall  not  be  forgiven,  if 
 he  never  literally  blasphemed  the  Holy 
 Ghost.  H.  MdvilL 
 
 HOLY  SPIEIT— Divinity  of  the. 
 
 He  is  distinct  from  the  Father ;  for  He 
 is  said  to  proceed  from  the  Father.  He  is 
 distinct  from  the  Son ;  for  He  is  sent  by 
 the  Son.  He  cannot  be  le.ss  than  the  Son, 
 although  sent  by  the  Sou  ;  for  our  Lord 
 teaches  us,  that  while  all  manner  of  sin 
 committed  against  Himself  may  be  for- 
 given,  the  Comforter  is  the  object  of  that 
 one  sin,  which  under  none  of  His  disp.n- 
 sations  can  be  forgiven — the  sin  which 
 hath  never  forgiveness,  neither  in  this 
 world,  nor  in   the  world  to  come.      God 
 
443 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT. 
 
 save  us  from  committing  it !  So  that,  if 
 there  were  a  difference,  it  would  be  fair  to 
 argue  that  the  Spirit  is  greater,  rather 
 than  less  than  the  Son.  Certaiuly  not  less 
 than  the  Father  ;  for  into  His  name,  as  a 
 part  of  that  Trinity  which  lies  at  the  foun- 
 dation of  Christianity,  all  nations  are  to  be 
 discipled.  "Go  and  teach  all  nations, 
 baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
 and  of  the  Sou,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 
 Dr.  Oiborii. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Doctrine  of  the. 
 
 What  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
 It  is  the  doctrine  of  the  interworking  of 
 the  Spirit  of  God  upon  the  souls  of  men. 
 I  have  no  philosophy  about  it.  All  1 
 say  IS  this  :  that  God  knows  what  is  the 
 secret  way  in  which  mind  reaches  mind. 
 I  do  not — you  do  not.  I  do  not  know  why 
 ■wonls  on  my  tongue  wake  up  thoughts 
 corresponding  to  those  words  in  you.  1  do 
 not  know  why  the  soul  of  man,  like  a  com- 
 plex instrument  of  wondrous  scope,  is 
 phiyed  upon  by  my  words,  so  that  there  are 
 ■waked  up  in  it  notes  along  the  whole  scale 
 of  being.  I  do  not  understand  why  these 
 things  are  so,  but  unquestionably  they  are 
 so.  1  do  not  know  how  the  mother  pours 
 her  affection  on  the  child's  heart ;  but  she 
 does.  Two  stars  never  shone  into  each 
 other  as  two  loving  souls  shine  into  each 
 other.  I  know  it  is  so,  but  I  do  not  know 
 why  it  is  so.  I  do  not  know  how  soul 
 touches  soul,  how  thought  touches  thouglit, 
 or  how  feeling  touches  feeling  ;  but  1  know 
 it  does. 
 
 Now  that  which  we  see  in  the  lower 
 departments  of  life — that  wliich  exists  be- 
 tween you  and  your  friends,  and  me  and 
 my  friends — that  I  take,  and  by  my  imagi- 
 nation 1  lift  it  up  into  the  Divine  nature, 
 and  give  it  depth  and  scope  and  univer- 
 sality ;  and  then  1  have  some  conception 
 of  tli'e  doctrine  of  God's  Spirit  poured  upon 
 the  human  soul.  H.   W.  Beecher. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Emblems  of  the. 
 
 AVater — cleansing,  fertilising,  refresh- 
 ing, abundant,  freely  given. 
 
 Fire — purifying,  illuminating,  search- 
 ing. 
 
 Wind — independent,  powerful,  sensible 
 in  its  effects,  reviving. 
 
 On. — healing,  comforting,  illuminating, 
 consecrating. 
 
 Rain  and  Dew — fertilising,  refreshing, 
 abundant,  imperceiitible,  penetrating. 
 
 A  Dove — gentle,  meek,  innocent,  for- 
 giving. 
 
 A  VoicR«-speaking,  guiding,  warning, 
 teaching. 
 
 A  Seal — impressing,  securing,  authenti- 
 cating. 
 
 Cluven  Tongues.  John  Bate. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Holiness  of  the. 
 
 The  holiness  of  the  Spirit  is  the  sum  of 
 all  the  aspects  and  tones  which  form  the 
 character  of  all  His  operations  and  of  all 
 His  perfections.  The  mind  cannot  fix  on 
 any  perfection  or  work  of  the  Spirit  which 
 is  not  of  the  character  denominated  holy, 
 apart  from  any  other  Divine  attribute. 
 
 Dr.   T.   W.  Jmkijn. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Influences  of  the. 
 
 The  same  shower  blesses  various  lands 
 in  different  degrees,  according  to  their 
 respective  susceptibilities.  It  makes  the 
 grass  to  spring  up  in  the  mead,  the  grain 
 to  vegetate  in  the  field,  the  shrub  to  grow 
 on  the  i)lain,  and  the  flowers  to  blossom  in 
 the  garden  ;  and  these  are  garnished  with 
 every  hue  of  loveliness,  the  lily  and  the 
 violet,  the  rose  and  the  daisy  ;  all  those 
 worketh  the  same  Spirit  that  renews  the 
 face  of  the  earth.  The  inlluences  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit,  descending  on  the  moral  soil, 
 produce  "blessing  in  variety,"  convictions 
 in  the  guilty,  illumination  in  the  ignorant, 
 holiness  in  the  defiled,  strength  in  the 
 feeble,  and  comfort  in  the  distressed.  As 
 the  Spirit  of  holiness,  He  imparts  a  pure 
 taste  ;  as  the  Spirit  of  glory.  He  throws  a 
 radiance  over  the  character  ;  as  the  Spirit 
 of  life.  He  revives  religion  ;  as  the  Spirit 
 of  truth,  He  gives  transparency  to  the 
 conduct ;  as  the  Spirit  of  prayer.  He  melts 
 the  soul  into  devotion  ;  and  as  the  Spirit 
 of  grace.  He  imbues  with  benevolence,  and 
 covers  the  face  of  the  earth  with  the  works 
 of  faith  and  labours  of  love.  Ibid. 
 
 The  same  wind  that  tosses  the  Atlantic 
 into  restless  heaps  gently  fans  it  into  a 
 tranquil  calm  ;  so  the  same  Holy  Sjiirit, 
 which  by  His  influence  agitates  and  tosses 
 the  conscience  of  the  guilty  sinner  into  a 
 thousand  fears,  soothes  it  into  a  blessed 
 peace,  and  sings  it  into  a  heavenly  repose. 
 John  Bute. 
 
 As  oftentimes,  when  walking  in  a  woo(j 
 near  sunset,  though  the  sun  himself  bfe 
 hid  by  the  height  and  bushiness  of  the 
 trees  around,  yet  we  know  that  he  is  still 
 above  the  horizon,  from  seeing  his  beams 
 in  the  open  glades  betore  us,  illuming  a 
 thousand  leaves,  the  several  brightnesses 
 of  which  are  so  many  evidences  of  his 
 presence.  Thus  it  is  with  the  Holy  Spirit. 
 He  works  in  secret ;  but  His  work  is  mani- 
 fest in  the  lives  of  all  true  Christians. 
 Lamps  so  heavenly  must  have  been  lit 
 from  on  high.  llarc. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Instrument  of  the. 
 
 It  is  not  the  drapery  in  which  Divine 
 truth  may  be  clothed,  nor  the  force  and 
 beauty   of  the  illustrations  with  which  it 
 
HOLY  SPIRIT. 
 
 449 
 
 may  be  presented,  but  it  is  the  truth  itself 
 — the  hare,  naked,  unvarnished  truth— that 
 is  the  instrument  of  the  Spirit's  power. 
 That  is  the  sword  of  the  Spirit;  and  it  is 
 the  sword  that  does  the  worlc,  not  the 
 scabbard  in  wliich  it  is  sheathed.  Tlie 
 scabbard  may  be  finely  fitted,  and  beauti- 
 fully embellished,  bound  with  the  finest 
 gold,  and  glittering  with  jewels  of  polished 
 diamonds.  But  it  is  not  the  garnished 
 scabbard,  it  is  the  drawn  sword  which  the 
 Spirit  wields,  and  which,  when  wielded  by 
 Him,  is  quick  and  powerful,  piercing  even 
 to  the  dividing  asunder  of  the  soul  and 
 spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and 
 discerning  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  tlie 
 heart.  J.  A.  Wallace. 
 
 HOLT  SPIRIT— Names  of  the. 
 
 As  in  the  case  of  the  Father  and  Son, 
 the  Scriptures  supply  us  with  a  variety  of 
 appellations  and  epithets  by  which  to  desig- 
 nate the  Holy  Spirit.  He  is  spoken  of  as 
 — "  Breath  of  the  Almighty ;  Comforter  ; 
 Eternal  Spirit  ;  Free  Spirit ;  God  ;  Good 
 Spirit;  Holy  Spirit;  Holy  Spirit  of  God; 
 Holy  Spirit  of  Promise  ;  the  Lord  ;  Power 
 of  the  Highest;  the  Spirit;  Spirit  of  the 
 Lord  God ;  Spirit  of  the  Lord ;  Spirit  of 
 God ;  Spirit  of  the  Father  ;  Spirit  of  Christ ; 
 Spirit  of  the  Son  ;  Spirit  of  life  ;  Spirit  of 
 grace ;  Spirit  of  prophecy  ;  Spirit  of  adop- 
 tion ;  Spirit  of  wisdom  ;  Spirit  of  counsel ; 
 Spirit  of  might ;  Spirit  of  understanding  ; 
 Spirit  of  knowledge ;  Spirit  of  the  fear  of 
 the  Lord ;  Spirit  of  truth ;  Spirit  of  holi- 
 ness; Spirit  of  revelation  ;  Spirit  of  judg- 
 ment ;  Spirit  of  burning ;  Spirit  of  glory  ; 
 Seven  Spirits  of  God ;  Voice  of  the  Lord." 
 John  Bate. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Necessity  of  the. 
 
 What  are  our  souls  without  His  grace  ? 
 As  dead  as  the  branch  in  which  the  sap 
 circulates  not.  What  is  our  Church  with- 
 out Him  ?  As  parched  and  barren  as  the 
 fields  without  heaven's  dew  and  rains. 
 Wbere  is  the  hope  of  the  world's  conver- 
 sion, or  of  the  salvation  of  dear  loved  ones, 
 out  of  Christ  ?  If  the  Spirit  of  God  come 
 not  to  our  aid,  our  eyes  may  fail  with  look- 
 ing for  these  much  valued  blessings. 
 
 Lewis. 
 
 ■E-Zin.  SPIRIT— Offices  of  the. 
 
 He  is  represented  as  undertaking  and 
 sustaining  a  great  variety  of  ofiices  in  be^ 
 half  of  men  ;  as  endowing  men  with  a 
 great  variety  and  abundance  of  gifts,  of 
 which  He  is  the  source  and  author,  and  in 
 reference  to  all  these  offices  and  gifts  they 
 are  said  to  partake  of  Him,  and  to  have, 
 in  proportion  co  their  faith,  and  according 
 to  their  faith,  a  common  p'/irticipation  in 
 Hiin,  a  right  in  Him,  enduring  so  long  as 
 there  is  a  Church  to  sustain  in  the  world, 
 
 till  faith  is  swallowed  up  in  sight.  These 
 offices  are,  perhaps,  most  compendiously  de- 
 scribed by  the  word  "  Comforter"  in  ■  the 
 text,  which  seems  to  convey  the  idea  of  all 
 the  help  which  men  stand  in  need  of,  and 
 which  they  may  call  upon  Him  to  exercise  in 
 their  behal£  The  idea  is  that  conveyed  in 
 the  words  of  the  Apostle — "  help  in  time 
 of  need"  asked  for  at  "the  throne  of 
 grace."  I  don't  pretend  that  the  para- 
 phrase is  exact,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that 
 the  ideas  are  substantially  the  same — help 
 in  time  of  need,  sought  at  the  throne  of 
 grace,  be  that  help  what  it  may.  One  of 
 our  old  divines  says : — "  In  the  sense  in 
 wliich  the  term  Advocate  is  here  employed, 
 we  may  apply  it  to  a  great  variety  of  per- 
 sons. If  we  are  sick,  we  call  to  us  a  phy- 
 sician ;  if  we  are  perplexed,  we  call  to  us  a 
 lawyer;  if  we  are  going  to  build,  we  call 
 to  us  an  architect ;  if  we  are  in  trouble,  we 
 call  to  us  some  kind  and  ailectionate  friend ; 
 and  so  as  we  want  it  we  get  advice,  and 
 instruction,  and  comfort  from  day  to  day." 
 And  so  all  these  persons  may  be  called 
 advocates,  or  persons  called  to  us,  as  our 
 necessities  or  circumstances  dictate.  But 
 with  far  greater  propriety  may  we  say 
 (such  is  the  wonderful  condescension  pf 
 Him  with  whom  we  have  to  do)  this  of  the 
 Holy  Ghost.  If  we  are  ignorant  we  call 
 to  Him,  and  He  is  the  Spirit  of  wisdour 
 and  revelation ;  if  we  are  sorrowful  we 
 call  to  Him,  and  He  is  the  Holy  Ghost  the 
 Comforter ;  if  we  are  oppressed  with  un- 
 belief, we  call  to  Him  and  He  gives  us 
 power  to  believe;  if  we  are  unholy  and 
 under  the  influence  of  strong  passion,  we 
 call  to  Him  and  He  allays  the  tumult  in 
 our  breasts  ;  sanctifies  us  in  body,  soul, 
 and  spirit.  And  so,  in  whatever  thing  we 
 call  upon  Him  for,  suited  to  our  spiritual 
 nature,  the  Lord  our  God,  blessed  be  His 
 name,  is  nigh  unto  us.  And  that  is  the 
 peculiar  and  crowning  glory  of  the  Chris- 
 tian dispensation.  We  may  say  fiir  more 
 truly  than  it  was  said  by  Israel  of  old,  even 
 with  the  tabernacle  and  pillar  of  cloud  in 
 the  midst  of  them,  "  What  people  is  there 
 tliat  hath  the  Lord  their  God  so  nigh  uuto 
 them  iu  aU  things  that  they  call  upon  Him 
 for?"  Br.  Osborn. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Omnipotence  of  the. 
 
 Nor  are  the  evidences  of  His  omni^wtence 
 confined  to  the  recoi-ds  of  the  past ;  fresh 
 displays  of  His  resistless  energy  are  con- 
 tinually occurring  around  us  in  the  mighty 
 and  glorious  changes  He  achieves,  where 
 every  form  of  ignorance  and  depravity  once 
 existed.  His  power  is  exerted  always  for 
 beneficial,  and  never  for  baneful  results,  so 
 that  His  omnipotence  seems  to  be  compre- 
 hended in  an  ever-active  panthiasance.  As 
 a  skilful  and  miglity  physician  ever  dwell- 
 ing in  our  world,  where  moral   maladies 
 
450 
 
 HOLY  SPIEIT. 
 
 and  death   surround   Him,  whithersoever 
 He    directs    His    energy    disease    departs,  ' 
 death    loses   its    grasp,    releases    its   prey,  ! 
 and    scenes    of   spiritual    life    and    health  ; 
 proclaim  His  presence,  and  celebrate  His  I 
 healing,    saving    power.       The    triumphs 
 of    the    Gospel    are    illustrations   of    His  \ 
 mighty  power,  beneath  which  every  form 
 of  idolatry  and  wickedness  has  trembled,  ' 
 hearts  of  every   grade  of  depravity  have  j 
 bowed    in    willing    subjection,    and    souls 
 under    every    species   of    moral    thraldom  1 
 have   bounded    into    the    freedom    of  the  j 
 Gospeh  testifying  that  "  where  the  Spirit 
 of  the  'Lord  is,  there  is  liberty." 
 
 Br.  Hewlett. 
 
 HOLY  SPIFJT— Personality  of  the. 
 
 The  word  whitJi  we  translate  "  Com- 
 forter" is,  in  the  last  discourse  of  our 
 Lord,  employed,  i  believe,  for  ths  first 
 time.  Unless  I  am  much  mistaken,  it  is 
 a  word  wholly  inapplLcable  to  a  thing.  It 
 belongs  to  a  person.  And  if  we  inquire, 
 as  we  needs  must,  who  is  the  Person  desig- 
 nated by  it,  the  answer  is  at  hand.  Twice 
 in  this  most  blessed  sermon  the  means  of 
 explaining  this  word  are  distinctly  fur- 
 nished to  us : — in  the  fourteenth  chapter 
 of  John,  twenty -sixth  verse,  "  But  the 
 Comforter,  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom  the 
 Father  will  send  in  My  name.  He  shall 
 teach  you  all  things,"  &c.  ;  and  in  the 
 fifteenth  chapter,  twenty-sixth  verse,  "  But 
 when  the  Comforter  is  come,  whom  I  will 
 send  unto  you  from  the  Father,  even  the 
 Spirit  of  truth,  which  proceedeth  from  the 
 Father,  He  shall  testify  of  lie."  In  other 
 parts  of  the  same  discourse,  the  same  great 
 doctrine  of  the  Personality  of  the  Com- 
 forter is  distinctly  taught.  He  is  referred 
 to  by  personal  pronouns ;  there  are  ascribed 
 to  Him  acts  which  only  a  real  Person  can  i 
 perform.  He  is  to  "  teach,"  to  "  call  to  re-  I 
 uiembrance,"  to  "  console,"  to  "  reprove,"  j 
 to  "  convince  the  world,"  to  "  testify,"  as, 
 after  their  manner,  the  Apostles  were  to 
 testify;  and  the  inference  is  fair,  that  He, 
 who  was  to  testify  as  they  did,  was  as  real 
 a  person  as  any  of  the  Apostles  were. 
 
 Dr.  Osborn. 
 
 A  young  student  preparing  for  Cam- 
 bridge was  assailed  by  a  certain  village 
 sceptic  who  sneered  at  the  idea  of  the 
 Holy  Ghost  being  a  person.  "  Personality 
 of  the  Spirit ! "  said  he ;  "  why^  the  Spirit 
 is  wind,  breath,  air — the  very  Greek  word 
 shows  you  this,  for  it  simply  means  wind." 
 "  Be  it  so,"  replied  the  youth  ;  "  then  be 
 so  good  as  to  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this 
 passage,  '  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water 
 and  of  the  wind,  he  cannot  enter  into  the 
 kingdom  of  God.  That  which  is  born  of 
 the  flesh  is  flc-h,  and  that  wliich  is  born 
 of  the  wind  is  wind.     The  wind  bloweth 
 
 where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
 sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
 Cometh  and  whither  it  goeth  ;  so  is  every 
 one  that  is  born  of  the  wind.'"  The 
 sceptic,  taken  aback,  had  NO  answer ;  and 
 the  student  passed  on,  saying  to  him, 
 "  Your  words  are  born  of  the  wind,  but 
 not  of  the  Spirit."  Anon. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Power  of  the. 
 
 we  saw  an  ai-my  sitting  down 
 before  a  granite  fort,  and  they  told  us 
 that  they  intended  to  batter  it  down ;  we 
 might  ask  them,  "How?"  They  point 
 to  a  cannon-ball.  Well,  but  there  is  no 
 power  in  that ;  it  is  heavy,  but  not  more 
 than  half  a  hundred,  or,  perhaps,  a  hundred 
 weight ;  if  all  the  men  in  the  army  hurled 
 it  against  the  fort  they  would  make  no 
 impression.  They  say,  "  No ;  but  look  at 
 the  cannon."  Well,  there  is  no  power  in 
 that.  A  child  may  ride  upon  it,  a  bird 
 may  perch  in  its  mouth ;  it  is  a  machine, 
 and  nothing  more.  "  But  look  at  the 
 powder."  Well,  there  is  no  power  in  that ; 
 a  child  mar  spill  it,  a  sj^ari-ow  may  peck  it. 
 Yet  this  powerless  powder  and  powerless 
 ball  are  put  into  the  powerless  cannon, 
 one  spark  of  fire  enters  it ;  and  then,  in 
 the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  that  power  is  a 
 flash  of  lightning,  and  that  ball  a  tlmnder- 
 bolt,  which  smites  as  if  it  bad  been  senb 
 from  heaven.  So  is  it  with  our  Church 
 machinery  at  this  day;  we  have  all  the 
 instruments  necessary  for  pulling  down 
 strongholds,  and  O  for  the  baptism  of 
 fire !  W.  Arthur. 
 
 HOLY  SPIEIT— Presence  of  the. 
 
 The  Holy  Spirit  was  never  absent  from 
 the  wiorld  or  from  the  Church.  He  hovered 
 over  creation  in  chaos  (Gen.  i,  2) ;  "  strove" 
 with  the  antediluvians  (Gen,  vi,  3)  ;  led 
 and  taught  the  patriarchs  and  prophets, 
 "  M'ho  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the 
 Holy  Ghost"  (2  Pet.  i,  21);  descended  in 
 His  fulness  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  was 
 "  breathed"  on  His  disciples  by  Him  (John 
 XX,  22).  And  yet,  on  the  day  of  Pente- 
 cost, and  ever  since,  has  the  Holy  Ghost 
 dwelt  personally  in  His  Church,  so,  in 
 such  a  manner  and  degree,  as  He  never 
 did  before  ;  according  to  the  repeated 
 promises  of  the  Lord.  Dean  Close. 
 
 HOLY  SPIEIT— Sinners  against  the. 
 
 We  are  sure  that  if  you  could  analyse 
 the  history  of  men  who  have  grown  gray 
 in  iniquity,  who,  with  one  foot  in  the 
 grave,  are  as  busy  as  ever  in  the  amass- 
 ing of  property,  and  who,  haunted  by  the 
 memory  of  pleasures  which  they  can  no 
 longer  enjoy,  assume  the  air  of  the  gay 
 and  debauched,  and  who,  moreover,  appear 
 quite  deadened  to  mond  attack,  so  that 
 there    is   no   working  upon  them  by  the 
 
ROLl  SPIRIT. 
 
 451 
 
 decrepitude  of  old  ago,  and  nothln<;  start- 
 ling in  the  solitariness  of  having  outlived 
 every  companion,  and  nothing  piercing  in 
 the  chime  of  the  funeral  knell — if,  we  say, 
 you  could  analyse  the  history  of  those  men, 
 we  are  ])ersua(led  you  would  tind  that  tliey 
 began  with  just  quieting  conscience  by  a 
 promise  or  excuse,  with  resisting  the  in- 
 ward admonition,  in  little  and  apparently 
 trilling  things ;  and  thus  they  gradually 
 took  otf,  as  it  were,  the  edge  of  the  weapon, 
 and  then  they  could  resist  in  great  things 
 with  as  much  tacility  as  they  had  before 
 done  in  little,  till  at  last  no  eilbrt  w-as 
 required,  and  they  could  sin  as  a  matter  of 
 course ;  and  they  are  gliding  into  eternity 
 with  a  quenched  and  crushed  conscience, 
 though  even  now  there  may  be  moments 
 when  that  rejected  principle,  breaking  from 
 sleep  into  delirium,  shakes  over  the  soul  the 
 scourge  of  an  avenging  fury.  But,  alas,  it 
 is  only  the  spectre  of  conscience — a  tleeting 
 thing,  as  it  were  a  dream  or  a  ghost  story. 
 It  is  the  men  who  have  thus  succeeded  in 
 making  themselves  inaccessible  to  alarm,  so 
 that  they  can  go  on  committing  the  part 
 of  suicide  without  being  disquieted;  it  is 
 these,  we  affirm,  who  have  well  nigh 
 reached  the  last  stage  of  sin  against  the 
 Spirit,  They  have  so  provoked  tliat  Spirit, 
 by  continued  and  increasing  opposition, 
 that  it  has  ceased  to  strive  with  them  ; 
 and  what  does  this  amount  to  but  to 
 having  "quenched  the  Spirit?"  And  is 
 not,  therefore,  the  likelihood  most  fearful 
 that  they  will  be  given  over  to  final  im- 
 penitence ?  If  so,  what  follows  but  that, 
 having  "  quenched  the  Spirit,"  they  have 
 d(me  that  frightful  thing  of  which  the 
 Ijord  Jesus  hath  said,  "  it  shall  never  be 
 forgiven,  neither  in  this  world  nor  in  that 
 ■which  is  to  come."  21.  Melcill. 
 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Sins  against  the. 
 
 There  are  many  sins  against  the  Holy 
 Ghost.  The  most  horrible  is  that  of  blas- 
 pheming Him ;  for  this  is  cnmen  loesee 
 mirjesiafis,  a  sort  of  high  treason  against 
 the  JMajesty  of  heaven.  Such  a  grievous 
 sin  the  Scribes  committed  by  a  single  say- 
 ing; but  then  they  had  been  long  ripening 
 into  such  depravity,  and  never  could  have 
 been  guilty  of  it  all  at  once.  In  Matt. 
 ix,  10,  11,  we  may  see  something  like  the 
 commencement  of  it.  While  some  chose 
 to  utter  the  dreadful  blasphemy,  others 
 perhaps  heard  it  with  an  approving  laugh, 
 and  thus  made  themselves  partakers  in  tlie 
 horrible  sin.  Bengel. 
 
 We  are  inclined  to  believe  that  much 
 misconception,  in  regard  of  the  unpardon- 
 able sin,  has  arisen  Irom  considering  it  as 
 some  one  desperate  misdoing,  in  place  of 
 the  consummation,  or  last  stage,  of  a  long 
 course  of  action.     It  is  our  firm  persuasion 
 
 that  there  is  not  one  in  this  assembly,  who 
 has  not,  at  one  time  or  another,  made  ad- 
 vances towards  committing  the  unpardon- 
 able sin,  as  it  is  our  firm  persuasion  that 
 there  is  not  one  who  has  never  grieved  the 
 Spirit,  and  never  resisted  the  Spirit.  If 
 sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost  were  men- 
 tioned nowhere  but  in  those  awful 
 passages  which  declare  it  incapable  of  for- 
 giveness, we  might  be  justilied  in  regard- 
 ing it  as  some  most  atrocious  fault,  coutined 
 perhaps  to  a  particular  age,  or  committed 
 only  in  a  particular  country.  IJut  when 
 we  find  throughout  Scripture  an  explicit 
 reference  to  the  sin  against  the  Holy 
 Ghost — for  surely  he  sins  against  the 
 Spirit,  who  vexes,  provokes,  grieves,  or 
 resists  Him  (and  all  these  are  usual  ex- 
 pressions) — it  seems  right  to  conclude  that 
 the  unpardonable  sin  is  not  so  much  a  siu 
 by  itself  as  the  highest  degree  of  sin  which 
 we  are  all  prone  to  commit.  I  sin  against 
 the  Spirit  whenever  I  grieve  Him  by  re- 
 sisting one  of  His  motions  or  suggestions. 
 If  1  pei-sist  in  my  opposition,  I  go  on  sin- 
 ning against  the  Spirit,  and  it  is  altogether 
 possible  that  I  nuiy  at  last  reach  the  top- 
 most pitcli  of  enormity,  "quencli  the 
 Spirit,"  and  blaspheme  against  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  and  thus  exclude  myself  from  ilie 
 benefit  of  Christ's  propitiation.  It  is 
 under  this  point  of  view,  so  far  as' we  can 
 judge,  that  the  unpardonable  sin  is  to  be 
 regarded,  whether  committed  by  the  Jews 
 or  by  ourselves.  What  was  it  wilh  the 
 Jews  ?  They  rejected  the  evidence  fur- 
 nished by  the  miracles  of  Christ,  and  de- 
 clared Him  a  deceiver;  and  tl^us  they 
 blasphemed  against  the  Sou.  But  this 
 might  be  forgiven.  The  crowning  evi- 
 dence was  not  yet  vouchsafed,  and  would 
 not  be  until  the  Holy  Ghost  descended 
 and  wro\iglit  miracles  by  the  hands  of  tlie 
 apostles,  publishing  the  fact  of  the  resur- 
 rection. Let  them,  however,  go  on  op- 
 posing, and  at  length  ascrilie  the  miracles 
 of  the  Spirit,  as  they  had  already  done 
 those  of  the  Son,  to  the  power  of  the  devil, 
 and  they  would  be  given  over  to  utter 
 hardness  of  heart,  as  having  resisted  the 
 final  proof,  and  would  theretbre  jieri-h,  as 
 sinners  who  had  sinned  beyond  the  reach 
 of  forgiveness.  Such  was  the  unpardonable 
 siu  which  the  Jews  committed ;  it  was  but 
 the  last  stage  in  a  course  of  wickedness; 
 and  it  may  be  just  the  same  with  ourselves. 
 11.  Melvlll. 
 HOLY  SPIRIT— Want  of  the. 
 
 The  grand  thing  the  Church  wants  in 
 this  time  is  God's  Holy  Spirit.  Yon  all 
 get  up  plans  and  say,  "  Now,  if  the  Chnri'h 
 were  altered  a  little  bit,  it  would  go  on 
 better."  You  think  if  there  were  ditl'erent 
 ministers  or  ditferent  church  order,  or 
 something  ditferent,  then  all  would  be  well. 
 
452 
 
 HOME. 
 
 No,  dear  friends,  it  is  not  there  the  mis- 
 take lies;  it  is  that  we  want  more  of  the 
 Spirit.  It  is  as  if  you  saw  a  locomotive 
 engine  upon  a  railway,  and  it  would  not 
 go,  and  they  put  up  a  driver,  and  they 
 said,  "  Now,  that  driver  will  just  do." 
 They  try  another  and  other.  One  pro- 
 poses that  such-and-such  a  wheel  should 
 be  altered,  hut  still  it  will  not  go.  Some 
 one  then  hursts  in  amongst  those  who  are 
 conversing,  and  says,  "  No,  friends  ;  but  the 
 reason  why  it  will  not  go  is  because  there 
 is  no  steam.  You  have  no  fire,  you  have 
 no  water  in  the  boiler ;  that's  why  it  will 
 not  go.  There  may  be  some  faults  about 
 it ;  it  may  want  a  bit  of  paint  here  and 
 there ;  hut  it  will  go  well  enough  with  all 
 those  faults  if  you  do  but  get  the  steam 
 up."  But  now  people  are  saying,  "  This 
 must  be  altered,  and  that  must  be  altered ;" 
 but  it  would  go  no  better  unless  God  the 
 Spirit  should  come  to  bless  us.  You  may 
 have  the  same  ministers,  and  they  shall  be 
 a  thousand  times  more  useful  for  God,  if 
 God  is  pleased  to  bless  them.  You  shall 
 have  the  same  deacons,  they  shall  be  a 
 thousand  times  more  influential  than  they 
 are  now,  when  the  Spirit  is  poured  dowfi 
 upon  them  from  on  high.  That  is  the 
 Church's  great  want,  and  until  that  want 
 be  supjilied  we  may  reform,  and  reform, 
 and  still  be  just  the  same.  We  want  the 
 Holy  Spirit;  and  then  whatever  faults 
 there  may  be  in  our  organizatioti,  they  can 
 never  materially  impede  the  progress  of 
 Christianity,  when  once  the  Spirit  of  the 
 Lord  God  is  in  our  midst. 
 
 C.  S.  Sjjurgeon. 
 
 HOME— Definition  of. 
 
 Home  is  the  one  place  in  all  this  world 
 where  hearts  are  sure  of  each  other.  It  is 
 the  place  of  confidence.  It  is  the  place 
 where  we  tear  off  that  mask  of  guarded 
 and  suspicious  coldness  which  the  world 
 forces  us  to  wear  in  self-defence,  and  where 
 ■we  pour  out  the  unreserved  communi- 
 cations of  full  and  confiding  hearts.  It 
 is  the  spot  where  expressions  of  tender- 
 ness gush  out  without  any  sensation  of 
 awkwardness  and  without  any  dread  of 
 ridicule.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 HOME— Happy. 
 
 Is  there,  in  truth,  any  blessing  of  heaven 
 which  is  more  beautiful,  more  worthy  of 
 our  warmest  gratitude  than  the  possession 
 of  a  home,  where  goodness,  kindness,  and 
 joy  are  daily  inmates;  where  the  heart 
 and  eye  may  sun  themselves  in  a  world  of 
 love  ;  where  the  mind  is  clear  and  ele- 
 vated ;  where  friends,  not  merely  by  words 
 but  by  actions,  say  to  each  other,  "Thy 
 gladness,  thy  sorrow,  thy  hope,  thy  prayer, 
 are  also  mine  ?" 
 
 See  how,  within  the   good   and  happy 
 
 family,  all  inequalities  are  smoothed  down, 
 so  as  to  form  a  common  element  of  good- 
 ness and  beauty,  in  which  each  member  of 
 the  family  finds  his  life,  each  power  its 
 development,  each  feeling  its  reception  and 
 its  return,  each  pure  pleasure  its  expansion. 
 Behold  how  the  tears  are  like  heaven's 
 dew,  the  smiles  like  the  sun's  light,  which 
 call  flowers  into  life ;  and  love,  love  is  the 
 blessed,  the  consecrated  earth,  from  which 
 all  germs  of  goodness  and  joy  spring  glori- 
 ously forth  ....  Life  in  a  happy  family 
 is  a  perpetual  development,  a  continual 
 spring  day.  Frederika  Bremer. 
 
 HOME— Influence  of. 
 
 Those  of  you  who  are  best  acquainted 
 with  the  world  or  who  have  read  most  ex- 
 tensively the  histories  of  men,  will  allow 
 that,  in  the  formation  of  character,  the 
 most  telling  influence  is  the  early  home. 
 It  is  that  home  which  often  in  boyhood 
 has  formed  beforehand  our  most  famous 
 scholars,  our  most  celebrated  heroes,  our 
 most  devoted  missionaries ;  and  even  when 
 men  have  grown  up  reckless  and  repro- 
 bate, and  have  bi'oken  all  restraints,  humaa 
 and  Divine,  the  last  anchor  which  has 
 dragged,  the  last  cable  they  have  been 
 able  to  snap,  is  the  memory  which  moored 
 them  to  a  virtuous  home. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 The  silent  influence  of  a  pious  home  is 
 illustrated  by  the  Prodigal  Son.  Had  that 
 home  been  repulsive  to  him,  or  had  his 
 father  been  a  stern,  forbidding  man,  that 
 recovering  thought  about  home  would  not 
 have  visited  him.  Take  courage,  parents 
 of  prodigals,  if  you  were  faithful  with 
 God  and  your  family  altars.  Persevere, 
 parents,  in  family  religion.  It  may  be 
 like  the  fabulous  song  of  the  sea  in  the 
 shell,  to  the  ear  of  a  child  when  far  from 
 home  and  from  God.  Cameron. 
 
 HOME— Joys  of. 
 
 Sweet  are  the  joys  of  Home, 
 
 And  pure  as  sweet ;  for  they. 
 Like  dews  of  morn  and  evening,  come 
 
 To  wake  and  close  the  day. 
 
 The  world  hath  its  delights. 
 
 And  its  delusions,  too  ; 
 But  Home  to  calmer  bliss  invites. 
 
 More  tranquil  and  more  true. 
 
 The  mountain  flood  is  strong. 
 
 But  fearful  in  its  pride ; 
 While  gently  rolls  the  stream  along 
 
 The  peaceful  valley's  side. 
 
 Life's  charities,  like  light, 
 
 Spread  smilingly  afar ; 
 But    stars  a^jproached,  become  more 
 bright. 
 
 And  Home  is  life's  own  star. 
 
HOME— HONESTY. 
 
 453 
 
 The  pilgrim's  step  in  vain 
 Seeks  Eden's  sacred  ground  ! 
 
 But  in  Home's  holy  joys,  again 
 An  Eden  may  be  I'ound. 
 
 A  glance  of  heaven  to  see. 
 
 To  none  on  earth  is  given  ; 
 And  yet  a  happy  family 
 Is  but  an  earlier  heaven. 
 
 John  Boivring. 
 HOME— Making  a. 
 
 I  might  ask,  what  is  it  makes  home  ? 
 And  you  would  answer,  a  mother's  love. 
 You  know  what  it  would  be  to  spend  one 
 of  your  winter  evenings  in  a  chamber 
 without  a  fire  on  the  hearth  or  a  carpet  on 
 the  floor ;  even  though  the  furniture  were 
 costly  and  the  friends  congenial,  nothing 
 could  impart  the  lacking  comfort  or  dif- 
 fuse the  wonted  radiance.  And  in  this 
 wintry  world,  a  tender  mother's  love  and 
 a  pious  mother's  care  are  the  carpet  on 
 the  floor  and  the  blaze  on  the  evening 
 hearth.  They  make  the  home,  and  to 
 life's  latest  moment  they  mingle  in  every 
 picture  of  pre-eminent  happiness. 
 
 I)r.  J.  Hamilton. 
 HOME — a  Paradise. 
 
 To  Adnm  Paradise  was  home.  To  the  good 
 among  his  descendants  home  is  Paradise. 
 
 Sare. 
 HOME— a  Peaceful. 
 Better  than  gold  is  a  peaceful  home, 
 Where  all  the  fireside  charities  come  ; 
 The  shrine  of  love  and  the  heaven  of  life, 
 Hallow'd  by  mother,  or  sister,  or  wife. 
 However  humble  the  home  may  be. 
 Or  tried  with  soi-rows  by  heaven's  decree. 
 The  blessings  that  neverwereboughtorsold, 
 And  centre  there,  are  better  than  gold. 
 
 Anon. 
 HOME— Recollection  of. 
 How  dear  to  this  heart  are  the  scenes  of 
 my  childhood. 
 When  fond  recollection  recalls  them  to 
 view ; 
 The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the  deep  tangled 
 wildwood. 
 And  every  loved  spot  which  my  infancy 
 knew.  Woodworth. 
 
 Thou  spot  of  earth,  where  from  my  bosom 
 
 The  first  weak  tones  of  nature  rose. 
 Where     first     I     cropp'd    the     stainless 
 blossom 
 Of  pleasure  yet  unmix'd  with  woes  ; 
 Where,    with    my  new-born    powers    de- 
 lighted, 
 I  tripp'd  beneath  a  mother's  hand — 
 In  th  e  the  quenchless  flame  was  lighted, 
 That  sparkles  for  my  native  land. 
 
 TFaUcer. 
 HONESTY— in  High  Life. 
 
 Some  years  ago  it  was  proposed  to  the 
 
 Duke  of  Wellington  to  purchase  a  farm 
 in  the  neighbourhood  of  Strathfieldsaye, 
 which  lay  contiguous  to  his  estate,  and 
 was  therefore  a  valuable  acquisition,  to 
 wliich  he  assented.  When  the  purchase 
 was  completed,  his  steward  congratulated 
 him  upon  having  had  such  a  bargain,  as 
 the  seller  was  in  difficulties  and  forced  to 
 part  with  it.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  a 
 bargain  ?"  said  the  duke.  The.  other  re- 
 plied,  "  It  was  valued  at  £1100,  and  we 
 have  got  it  for  £800."  "  In  that  case," 
 said  the  duke,  "  you  will  please  to  carry  the 
 extra  £300  to  the  late  owner,  and  never 
 talk  to  me  of  cheap  land  again."      Baikes. 
 
 HONESTY— Reward  of. 
 
 The  religious  tradesman  complains  that 
 his  honesty  is  a  hindrance  to  his  success ; 
 that  the  tide  of  custom  pours  into  the 
 doors  of  his  less  scrupulous  neighbours  in 
 the  same  street,  while  he  himself  waits  for 
 hours  idle.  My  brother,  do  you  think  that 
 God  is  going  to  reward  honour,  integrity, 
 highmindedness,  with  this  world's  coin? 
 Do  you  fancy  that  He  will  pay  spiritual 
 excellence  with  plenty  of  custom  ?  Now, 
 consider  the  price  that  man  has  paid  for 
 his  success.  Perhaps  mental  degradation 
 and  inward  dishonour.  His  advertisements 
 are  all  deceptive;  his  ti-eatment  of  his 
 workmen  tyrannical ;  his  cheap  prices 
 made  possible  by  inferior  articles.  Sow 
 that  man's  seed,  and  you  will  reap  that 
 man's  harvest.  Cheat,  lie,  advertise,  be 
 unscrupulous  in  your  assertions,  custom 
 will  come  to  you.  But  if  the  price  is  too 
 dear,  let  him  have  his  harvest,  and  take 
 yours.  Yours  is  a  clear  conscience,  a  jDure 
 mind,  i-ectitude  within  and  without.  Will 
 you  part  with  that  for  his  ?  Then  why 
 do  you  complain  ?  He  has  paid  his  price ; 
 you  do  not  choose  to  pay  it. 
 
 F.  W.  Bohertson. 
 
 One  day,  while  he  was  Chancellor,  Lord 
 Eldon  took  a  hackney  coach  to  convey 
 him  from  Downing  Street,  where  he  had 
 been  attending  a  Cabinet,  to  his  own  resi- 
 dence. Having  a  pressing  appointment,  he 
 alighted  hastily  from  the  vehicle,  leaving 
 papers  containing  important  Government 
 secrets  behind  him.  Some  hours  after,  the 
 driver  discovered  the  packages,  and  took 
 them  to  Hamilton  Place  unopened,  when 
 his  lordship  desired  to  see  the  coachman, 
 and,  after  a  short  interview,  told  him  to 
 call  again.  The  man  called  again,  and  was 
 then  informed  that  he  was  no  longer  a 
 servant,  but  the  owner  of  a  hackney  coach, 
 which  his  lordship  had  in  the  mean  time 
 given  directions  to  be  pui-chased,  and  pre- 
 sented to  him,  together  with  three  horses, 
 as  a  reward  for  his  honour  and  promptitude. 
 Anon. 
 
454 
 
 HONESTY— HOPE. 
 
 HONESTY— -Worth  of. 
 
 Honest  policy  is  a  good  friend,  both  to 
 our  safety  and  to  our  usefulness.  The 
 serpent's  head  (provided  it  be  not  akin  to 
 the  old  serpent)  may  well  become  a  good 
 Christian's  body,  especially  if  it  have  a 
 dove's  eye  in  it.  M.  Henry. 
 
 HONOUR-by  Merit. 
 O,  that  estates,  degrees,  and  offices. 
 Were  not  deriv'd  corruptly  !  and  that  clear 
 
 honour 
 Were    purchas'd    by    the    merit    of   the 
 
 wearer ! 
 How  many  then  should  cover,  that  stand 
 
 bare? 
 How  many  be  commanded,  that  command  ? 
 How  much  low  peasantry  would  then  be 
 
 glean' d 
 From  tlie  true  seed  of  honour  !    and  how 
 
 much  honour 
 Pick'd  from  the  chaff  and  ruin  of  the  times, 
 To  be  new  varnish'd  !  Shakespeare. 
 
 HONOUR  AND  VIRTUE. 
 
 Honour  is  unstable,  and  seldom  the 
 same,  for  she  feeds  upon  opinion,  and  is  as 
 fickle  as  her  food.  She  builds  a  lofty 
 structure  on  the  sandy  foundation  of  the 
 esteem  of  those  who  are  of  all  beings  the 
 most  subject  to  change.  But  virtue  is 
 ■uniform  and  fixed,  because  she  looks  for 
 approbation  only  from  Him  who  is  the  same 
 yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever.  Honour 
 is  most  capricious  in  her  reward.  She  feeds 
 us  with  air,  and  often  pulls  down  our  house 
 to  build  our  monument.  She  is  contracted 
 in  her  views,  inasm\ich  as  her  hopes  are 
 rooted  in  earth,  bounded  by  time,  ter- 
 minnted  by  death.  But  virtue  is  enlarged 
 and  infinite  in  her  hopes,  inasmuch  as  they 
 extend  beycmd  present  things,  even  to 
 eternal ;  this  is  their  proper  sphere,  and 
 they  will  cease  only  in  the  reality  of 
 deathless  enj'>yment.  In  the  storms  and 
 tempests  of  life  honour  is  not  to  be  de- 
 pended on,  because  she  herself  partakes  of 
 the  tumult,  she  also  is  buffeted  by  the 
 wave,  and  borne  along  by  the  whirlwind. 
 But  virtue  is  above  the  storm,  and  has  an 
 anchor  sure  and  stedfast,  because  it  is  cast 
 in  heaven.  The  noble  Brutus  worshipped 
 honour,  and  in  his  zeal  mistook  her  for 
 virtue.  In  the  day  of  trial  he  found  her  a 
 shadow  and  a  name.  But  no  man  can 
 purchase  his  virtue  too  dear ;  for  it  is  the 
 only  tiling  who^e  value  must  ever  increase 
 with  the  price  it  has  cost  us. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 HOPE— as  an  Anchor. 
 
 1.  An  anchor  is  a  good  stay  to  a  ship  in 
 
 storm.      What    would   the    mariner   do 
 
 \thout   it  ?      So   hope    in    God   through 
 
 ^t  is  a  stay  to  the  soul  of  the  believer 
 
 \he  day  of  trouble,  and  without  it  would 
 
 danger. 
 
 2.  An  anchor  takes  hold  of  something 
 out  of  sight ;  so  hope  enters  into  the  veil, 
 and  takes  liold  of  things  which  are  unseen 
 to  the  carnal  and  natural  eyes. 
 
 3.  An  anchor,  when  it  takes  hold  of  a 
 rock  or  firm  ground,  holds  the  ship  secure  ; 
 so  hope,  taking  hold  of  Christ,  the  Kock 
 of  Ages,  preserves  the  soul  from  spiritual 
 shipwreck. 
 
 4.  An  anchor  would  be  of  no  use  without 
 the  cable  to  which  it  is  fastened;  so  hope 
 without  faith  is  no  use,  and  cannot  avail 
 the  soul  in  time  of  need. 
 
 5.  An  anchor,  to  be  of  service  to  the 
 ship,  requires  skilful  management  j  so  does 
 hope.  It  must  be  cast  "  within  the  veil, 
 whither  the  Forerunner  is  for  us  entered" 
 (Heb.  vi,  ly,  20).  B.  Reach. 
 
 HOPE— Definition  of. 
 
 Properly  speaking,  hope  is  an  emotion 
 which  embraces  expectation  and  desire. 
 Hope  always  refers  to  something  good  as 
 an  object  of  pleasurable  expectation.  Its 
 object  must  be  good,  because  we  never 
 hope  for  that  which  is  evil ;  we  may  fear  it 
 and  dread  it,  but  we  cannot  hope  for  it, 
 unless  it  be  regarded  as  really  desirable 
 and  delightful  in  the  prospect  of  its  enjoy- 
 ment. And,  because  the  object  is  yet 
 future  and  distant,  hope  also  includes 
 desire  to  attain  it.  Dr.  E.  Neivton. 
 
 HOPE— Development  of. 
 
 Hope  takes  fast  hold  of  heaven  itself.  A 
 Christian's  hope  is  not  like  that  of  Pan- 
 dora, which  may  fly  out  of  the  box,  and  bid 
 the  soul  farewell,  as  the  hope  of  the  hypo- 
 crite does  ;  no,  it  is  like  the  morning  light, 
 the  least  beam  of  it  shall  go  on  into  a  com- 
 plete sunshine  ;  it  shall  shine  forth  brighter 
 and  brighter  till  the  perfect  day. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 HOPE— wanting  Faith. 
 
 The  Scriptures  speak  specifically  of  a 
 living  hope ;  there  must,  therefore,  be  a 
 dead  one — of  "a  hope  that  maketh  not 
 ashamed;"  there  must,  therefore,  be  one 
 that  will  make  its  possessor  ashamed  when 
 the  day  shall  reveal  its  falsehood.  If,  in  a 
 place  of  danger,  you  saw  a  chain  whose 
 uppermost  link  was  surely  fixed  in  the 
 living  rock,  and  whose  lowest  link,  a  goodly 
 iron  ring,  was  vibrating  invitingly  near, 
 you  might  be  induced,  by  the  prospect  of 
 an  easy  deliverance,  to  venture  your  body's 
 weight  upon  its  seeming  strength.  If  that 
 lowest  link  were  not  within  the  one  above 
 it,  but  only  attached  externally  by  some 
 brittle  twig,  you  would  exchange  the 
 slippery  place  of  danger  for  the  plunge 
 into  inevitable  death.  It  is  like  the  fall 
 of  a  sinner,  who  has  risked  his  soul  for  the 
 great  day  on  a  hope  not  linked  to  faith. 
 
 Arnot. 
 
HOPE. 
 
 4B3 
 
 EOPE^Features  of 
 
 What  is  hope  ?     The  beauteous  sun, 
 Which  colours  all  it  shines  upon  ! 
 The  beacon  of  life's  dreary  sea  ; 
 The  star  of  immortality  ! 
 Fountain  of  feeling,  young  and  warm, 
 A  day-beam  bursting  through  the  storm  ! 
 A  tone  of  melody,  whose  birth 
 Is  oh  !  too  sweet,  too  pure,  for  earth  ! 
 A  blossom  of  that  radiant  tree 
 Whose  fi'uit  the  angels  only  see  ! 
 A  beauty  and  a  charm,  whuse  jiower 
 Is  seen,  enjoy'd,  confess'd,  each  hour! 
 A  portion  of  that  world  to  come. 
 When  earth  and  ocean  meet — the  last  o'er- 
 whelming  doom  !  Swain. 
 
 HOPE— Foundation  of. 
 
 On  Trath's  substantial  rock,   Hope  takes 
 
 her  seat, 
 While  waves  tumultuous  dash  against  her 
 
 feet; 
 The  sky  with  blackness  now  becomes  o'er- 
 
 spread ; 
 The  tempest  threatens  her  devoted  head  ; 
 Louder    and    louder    still,    the    thunders 
 
 sound ; 
 The  lightning  flings  its  fearful  glare  around  ; 
 Creation  trembles  ;  but  fast  anchored  there, 
 Hope  sits  unshaken,  never  in  despair  ; 
 With  eyes  turned  upward,  whence  her  help 
 
 descends, 
 She  waits  expecting  till  the  tempest  ends. 
 W.  Holmes. 
 
 HOPE— Fruits  of. 
 
 Auspicious   Hope !     in  thy   sweet   garden 
 
 grow 
 Wreaths  for  each  toil,  a  charm  for  every 
 
 woe  ; 
 Won  by  their  sweets,  in  Nature's  languid 
 
 hour. 
 The  way-worn  pilgrim  seeks  thy  summer 
 
 bower  ; 
 There  as  the  wild  bee  murmurs  on  the  wing, 
 What  peaceful  dreams  thy  handmaid  spirits 
 
 bring  ; 
 What  viewless  forms  the  ^olian  organ  play. 
 And  sweep  the  furrow'd  lines   of  anxious 
 
 thought  away.  Canqibell. 
 
 HOPE— Help  and  Danger  of. 
 
 Hope  is  to  a  man  as  a  bladder  to  a  learn- 
 ing swimmer — it  keeps  him  from  sinking 
 in  the  bosom  of  the  waves,  and  by  tbat 
 help  he  may  attain  the  exercise  ;  but  yet 
 it  many  times  makes  him  venture  beyond 
 his  height,  and  then  if  that  breaks,  or  a 
 storm  rises,  he  drowns  without  recoverj'. 
 How  many  would  die,  did  not  hope  sustain 
 them  !  How  many  have  died  by  hoping 
 too  much.  This  wonder  we  find  in  hope, 
 that  she  is  both  a  flatterer  and  a  true 
 friend,  Fcltham.  J 
 
 HOPE— Influence  of. 
 
 And  as,  in  sparkling  majesty,  a  star 
 
 Gilds  the  bright  summit  of  some  gloomy 
 cloud, 
 Briglit'niug  the  half-veil'd  face  of  heaven 
 afar, — 
 So,  when  dark  thoughts  my  boding  spirit 
 shroud. 
 Sweet  Hope  !    celestial  influence  round  me 
 
 shed, 
 Waving  thy  silver  puiions  o'er  my  head. 
 
 /.  Keats. 
 
 Hope,  of  all  passions,  most  befriends  us 
 
 here  : 
 Joy  has  her  tears,  and  transport  has  her 
 
 death  ; 
 Hope,  like  a  cordial,  innocent  though  strong, 
 Man's  heart  at  once  iiisjiirits  and  serenes, 
 Nor  makes  him  pay  his  wisdom  for  his  joys. 
 Young. 
 
 This  one  engine  moves  the  world  and 
 keeps  all  men  busy  ;  every  one  soon  finds 
 his  present  state  not  perfectly  good,  and 
 hopes  some  way  to  make  it  better ;  other- 
 wise, the  world  were  a  dull  scene.  Endea- 
 vour would  languish,  or  rather  be  none  at 
 all ;  for  there  were  no  room  left  for  design 
 or  rational  enterprising  of  anything ;  but 
 a  lazy,  unconcerned  trifling,  without  care 
 which  end  goes  forward,  and  with  an  utter 
 indifferency- whether  to  stir  or  sit  still. 
 
 John  Howe. 
 
 "  Look  up  !"  thundered  the  captain  of  a 
 vessel,  as  his  boy  giew  giddy  while  gazing 
 from  the  topi!iast.  "Look  up!"  The 
 boy  looked  up,  and  returned  in  safety. 
 Young  man,  lor.k  up,  and  you  will  succeed. 
 Never  look  down  and  despair.  Leave 
 dangers  uncared  for,  and  push  on.  It  you 
 falter  you  lose.  Do  right,  and  trust  in 
 God.  Anon. 
 
 HOPE— Left  to  Man. 
 
 Primeval  Hope,  the  Aonian  muses  say, 
 
 When  Man  and  Nature  mourn'd  their  first 
 
 decay ; 
 When  every  form  of  death  and  every  woe 
 Shot  from  malignant  stars  the  earth  below  ; 
 When  Murder  bared  her  arm,  and  rampart 
 
 War 
 Yoked  the  red  dragons  of  her  iron  car ; 
 When  Peace  and  Mercy,  banished  from  the 
 
 plain. 
 Sprung  on  the  viewless  winds  to  heaven 
 
 again- 
 All,  all  forsook  the  friendless  guilty  mind, 
 But  hope,  tho  charmer,  lingered  still  behind. 
 Thus,  while  Elijah's  burning  wheels  prepare 
 From  Carmel's  height  to  sweep  the  fields 
 
 of  air. 
 The  prophet's  mantle,  ere  his  flight  began, 
 Dropt  on  the  world — a  sacred  gift  to  man. 
 Campbell. 
 
456 
 
 HOPE— HOPE  AND  PRESUMPTIOIT. 
 
 HOPE— Nature  of. 
 
 Hope  is  an  active  grace ;  it  is  called  a 
 lively  hope.  Hope  is  like  the  spring  in 
 the  watch,  it  sets  all  the  wheels  of  the  soul 
 in  motion ;  hope  of  a  crop  makes  the  hus- 
 bandman sow  his  seed;  hope  of  victory 
 makes  the  soldier  fight ;  and  a  true  hope 
 of  glory  makes  a  Christian  vigorously 
 pursue  glory.  Here  is  a  spiritual  touch- 
 stone to  try  our  hope  by,  T.  Watson. 
 
 Hope  is  the  daughter  of  faith,  but  such 
 as  is  a  staff  to  her  aged  mother ;  and  will 
 produce  a  bold  and  wise  profession  of  the 
 truth  before  men,  as  also  prayer  to  God. 
 It  is  as  the  cork  upon  the  net :  though  the 
 lead  on  the  one  side  sink  it  down,  yet  the 
 cork  on  the  other  keeps  it  up.     J.  Trapp. 
 
 HOPE— Radiancy  of. 
 
 Be  thou  the  rainbow  to  the  storms  of  life, 
 
 The  evening  beam  that  smiles  the  clouds 
 
 away. 
 And  tints  to-morrow  with  prophetic  ray. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 HOPE— Radiant. 
 Oh,  who,  in  such  a  world  as  this. 
 
 Could  bear  his  lot  of  pain, 
 Did  not  one  radiant  hope  of  bliss 
 
 Unclouded  yet  remain  ? 
 That  hope  the  Sov'reign  Lord  has  given, 
 
 Who  reigns  above  the  skies  ; 
 Hope  that  unites  the  soul  to  heaven 
 By  faith's  endearing  ties. 
 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 HOPE— Surviving  of. 
 
 Hope's  precious  pearl  in  sorrow's  cup 
 
 Unmelted  at  the  bottom  lay, 
 To  shine  again  when,  all  drunk  up. 
 The  bitterness  should  pass  away. 
 
 T.  Moore. 
 HOPE— Vigour  of. 
 
 Hope  is  a  vigorous  principle;  it  is  fur- 
 nished with  light  and  heat  to  advise  and 
 execute;  it  sets  the  head  and  heart  to 
 work,  and  animates  a  man  to  do  his  ut- 
 most. And  thus,  by  perpetually  pushing 
 and  assurance,  it  puts  a  difficulty  out  of 
 countenance,  and  makes  a  seeming  impos- 
 sibility give  way.  J.  Collier. 
 
 HOPS  AND  EXPECTATION. 
 
 Jlope  is  welcome;  expectation  is  either 
 welcome  or  unwelcome :  we  hope  only  for 
 that  which  is  good ;  we  expect  the  bad  as 
 well  as  the  good.  In  bad  weather  we 
 hope  it  will  soon  be  better;  but  in  a  bad 
 season  we  expect  a  bad  harvest.  Hope  is 
 simply  a  presentiment;  it  may  vary  in 
 degree,  more  according  to  the  temper  of 
 the  mind  than  the  nature  of  the  circum- 
 stances; some  hope  where  there  is  no  ground 
 for  hope,  and  others  despair  where  they 
 might  hope :   expectation  is  a  conviction 
 
 that  excludes  doubt ;  we  expect  in  pro- 
 portion as  that  conviction  is  positive ;  we 
 hope  that  which  may  be  or  can  possibly 
 be ;  we  expect  that  which  must  be  or  which 
 ought  to  be.  Tlie  young  man  hopes  to 
 live  many  years;  the  old  man  expects  to 
 die  in  a  few  years.  Hope  is  a  precious 
 gift  to  man ;  it  is  denied  to  no  one  under 
 any  circumstances;  it  is  the  solace  in 
 affliction  ;  it  is  a  support  under  adversity ; 
 it  throws  a  ray  of  light  over  the  darkest 
 scene :  expectation  is  an  evil  rather  than 
 a  good ;  whether  we  expect  the  thing  that 
 is  agreeable  or  otherwise,  it  is  seldom 
 attended  with  anything  but  pain.  Hope 
 may  be  deferred,  but  never  dies;  it  is  a 
 pleasure  as  lasting  as  it  is  great;  expec- 
 tation is  swallowed  up  in  certainty ;  it 
 seldom  leaves  anything  but  disappoint- 
 ment. Q.  Crabb. 
 
 HOPE  AND  EXPERIENCE. 
 
 Hope  is  a  prodigal  young  heir,  and  Ex- 
 perience is  his  banker ;  but  his  drafts  are 
 seldom  honoured,  since  there  is  often  a 
 heavy  balance  against  him,  because  he 
 draws  largely  on  a  small  capital,  is  not 
 yet  in  possession,  and  if  he  were,  would 
 die.  C.  Cotton. 
 
 HOPE  AND  FEAR— Use  of. 
 
 St.  Lewis,  the  king,  having  sent  Ivo, 
 bishop  of  Chartres,  on  an  embassy,  tHe 
 bishop  met  a  woman  on  the  way,  sad, 
 fantastic,  and  melancholic,  with  fire  in  one 
 hand  and  water  in  the  other.  He  asked 
 what  those  symbols  meant.  She  answered, 
 "  My  purpose  is  with  fire  to  burn  Paradise, 
 and  with  my  water  to  quench  the  fiames 
 of  hell,  that  men  may  serve  God  without 
 the  incentives  of  hope  and  fear,  and  purely 
 for  the  love  of  God."  But  this  woman 
 began  at  the  wrong  end;  the  love  of  God 
 is  not  produced  in  us  after  we  have  con- 
 tra(;ted  evil  habits,  till  God  with  His  fan  in 
 His  hand  hath  thoroughly  purged  the  floor, 
 till  He  hath  cast  out  all  the  devils,  and 
 swept  the  house  with  the  instrument  of 
 hope  and  fear,  and  with  the  achievements 
 and  erticacy  of  mercies  and  judgments. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 HOPE  AND  LOVE. 
 
 The  rose  is  fairest  when  'tis  budding  new. 
 And  hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns 
 from  fears ; 
 The  flower  is  sweetest  wash'd  with  morn- 
 ing dew, 
 And  love  is  loveliest  when  embalm'd  in 
 tears.  Sir  JF.  Scott. 
 
 HOPE  AND  PRESUMPTION. 
 
 Presumption  is  a  deordination  of  Hope, 
 rather  a  brutish  teuierity,  a  wilful  rash- 
 ness; than  Hope,  and  moves  contrary  to 
 her.     Hope  lays  hold  on  the  promises ;  but 
 
HOPES— HOUSE  OP  GOD. 
 
 457 
 
 'tis  the  conrlition  that  stretches  forth  her 
 hand  :  she  looks  up  to  heaven,  but  'tis  re- 
 pentance that  quickeneth  her  eye.  But 
 presumption  runs  hastily  to  the  promises; 
 but  leapeth  over  the  condition,  or  treadeth 
 it  under  her  feet.  Presumption  is  in 
 heaven  already,  without  grace,  without  re- 
 pentiuice — a  false  hope  it  is,  and  therefore 
 most  contrary  to  hope  ;  and  therefore  no 
 hope  at  all.  Anthony  Fai'indon. 
 
 HOPES —Disappointed. 
 
 Gotthold  had  feasted  his  eyes  upon  the 
 rich  blossom  of  the  trees,  and  indulged  the 
 hope  that  in  the  autumn  he  would  joy- 
 fully gather  the  frnit.  In  a  few  days, 
 however,  he  discovered  that  a  noxious 
 mildew  had  bred  swarms  of  caterpillars, 
 and  that  these  had  consumed  both  blos- 
 soms and  leaves,  and  left  the  branches  as 
 naked  as  if  they  had  been  scorched  with 
 fire.  Such,  thought  he,  is  the  fate  of 
 human  hopes  and  pleasures,  which  vanish 
 like  vapour,  before  we  are  aware.  Where- 
 ever  there  are  leaves,  blossom,  and  fruit, 
 be  sure  there  will  be  caterpillars  to  waste 
 and  consume  them.  When  we  fancy  our 
 prosperity  to  be  in  full  flower,  and  prepare 
 to  enjoy  it  to  our  heart's  content,  in  a 
 moment  we  discover  that  it  has  vanished 
 like  a  shadow.  All  that  is  good  here  be- 
 neath the  sun  is  attended  by  some  evil, 
 or  encounters  some  foe.  Pleasures,  riches, 
 honour,  and  joy  are  sure  to  have  care, 
 disgrace,  adversity,  and  affliction  in  their 
 train.  There  is  no  pleasure  without  pain, 
 no  joy  without  sorrow.  O  the  folly  of  ex- 
 pecting lasting  felicity  in  a  vale  of  tears, 
 or  paradise  in  a  ruined  world  !       Gotthold. 
 
 HOSPITALITY— Examples  of. 
 
 MelchizedeTc  (Gen.  xiv,  18) ;  Abraham 
 (Gen.  xviii,  3—8);  Lot  (Gen.  xix,  2,  3); 
 Laban  (Gen.  xxiv,  31);  Jethro  (Exo.  ii, 
 20);  Manoah  (Jud.  xiii,  15);  Barzillai 
 (2  Sam.  xix,  32) ;  Shunammite  (2  Kings 
 iv,  8) ;  Nfihemiah  (Neh.  v,  17) ;  Job  (Job 
 xxxi,  17,  32)  ;  Zaccheus  (Luke  xix,  6) ;  Sa- 
 maritans (John  iv,  40) ;  Lydia  (Acts  xvi. 
 15);  Jason  (Acts  xvii,  7);  Mnason  (Acts 
 xxi,  16);  People  of  Melita  (Acts  xxviii, 
 2) ;  Publius  (Acts  xxviii,  7) ;  Qaius  (3  John 
 5,  6).  Anon. 
 
 HOUSE  OP  GOD— Advantages  of  the. 
 
 Independent  of  the  peculiar  object  of 
 public  religious  assemblies,  many  collateral 
 advantages  are  derived  from  them  which 
 the  liberal  thinker  will  by  no  means  de- 
 spise. The  recurrence  of  appointed  days 
 of  rest  and  leisure,  which,  but  for  this 
 purpose,  would  never  have  been  appointed, 
 divides  the  weary  months  of  labour  and 
 servitude  with  a  separating  line  of  a 
 brighter  colour.  The  house  of  God  is  a 
 centre  of  union  for   neighbours,   friends, 
 
 and  townsmen;  and  it  is  a  reasonable  and 
 a  pleasing  ground  of  preference  in  our 
 attachments,  that  we  have  "walked  to 
 the  house  of  God  in  company."  Even  the 
 common  greetings  that  pass  between  those 
 who  meet  there,  are  hallowed  by  the  oc- 
 casion of  the  meeting,  and  the  spirit  of 
 civic  urbanity  is  mingled  with  a  still 
 sweeter  infusion  of  Christian  coui'tesy. 
 By  the  recurrence  of  this  intercourse, 
 feuds  and  animosities  are  composed,  which 
 interrupted  the  harmony  of  friends  and 
 acquaintance;  and  those  who  avoided  to 
 meet  because  they  could  not  forgive,  are 
 led  to  forgive,  being  obliged  to  meet.  Its 
 effect  in  humanising  the  lower  orders  of 
 society,  and  fashioning  their  manners  to 
 the  order  and  decorum  of  civil  life,  is  ap- 
 parent to  every  reflecting  mind.  The 
 poor  who  have  not  formed  a  habit  of  at- 
 tending here,  remain  from  week  to  week 
 in  their  sordid  cells,  or  issue  thence  to 
 places  of  licentiousness  more  sordid ;  while 
 those  who  assemble  with  the  other  inhabi- 
 tants of  the  place  are  brought  into  the 
 frequent  view  of  their  superiors;  their 
 persons  are  known,  their  appearance  is 
 noted;  the  inquiring  eye  of  benevolence 
 pursues  them  to  tiieir  humble  cottages, 
 and  they  are  not  unfrequeutly  led  home 
 from  the  social  worship  to  the  social  meal. 
 If  the  rich  and  poor  were  but  thus  brought 
 together  regularly  and  universally,  that 
 single  circumstance  would  be  fiiund  suffi- 
 cient to  remove  the  squalidness  of  miseiy, 
 and  the  bitterness  of  want;  and  poverty 
 would  exist  only  as  a  sober  shade  in  the 
 picture  of  life,  on  which  the  benevolent 
 eye  might  rest  with  a  degree  of  com- 
 placency when  fatigued  with  the  more 
 gaudy  colouring  of  luxury  and  show. 
 
 Mrs.  Barbauld. 
 
 HOUSE  OP  GOD— Pood  at  the. 
 
 A  little  girl  said  to  a  gentleman  who 
 was  never  known  to  enter  the  house  of 
 God,  "Sir,  why  don't  you  go  to  church; 
 for  I  am  sure,  such  as  you  are,  you  need 
 food  as  well  as  myself?"  The  gentleman 
 answered  her,  "  Pray,  who  feeds  you,  and 
 what  kind  of  food  is  it  that  you  receive  at 
 church  ?"  She  replied,  "  Sir,  it  is  God 
 who  feeds  me  there,  and  His  Word  is  the 
 food  I  am  supplied  with;  and  I  assure  you, 
 that  though  my  mother,  being  very  poor,  is 
 sometimes  scarcely  able  to  give  me  food  to 
 eat,  yet,  fed  as  I  am  every  Sunday  with  the 
 Br&ad  of  life,  I  never  know  what  the  paina 
 of  hunger  are."  The  gentleman,  astonished 
 at  what  he  heard  from  the  little  girl,  re- 
 solved from  that  time  to  attend  the  service 
 of  the  sanctuary ;  and  he  has  adhered  to 
 his  determination,  and  now  feels  and  con- 
 fesses the  great  pleasure  and  profit  that 
 arises  from  a  constant  attendance  on  the 
 means  of  grace.  J.  Whitecross. 
 
458 
 
 HOUSE  OP  GOD— HUMAN  NATURE. 
 
 HOUSE  OF  GOD— Love  to  tlie. 
 
 Christians  in  Greenland  very  seldom,  if 
 ever,  absent  themselves  from  public  wor- 
 ship on  account  of  the  weather.  When  it 
 is  so  cold  that  their  breath  freezes  and 
 forms  icicles  on  their  faces,  they  yet  go 
 long  distances — men,  women  and  children, 
 through  snow  and  ice,  storm,  &c.,  to  the 
 house  of  prayer.  Through  much  greater 
 sacrifice  than  the  Christians  of  more  fa- 
 voured lands  do  the  poor  Greenlanders 
 obey  the  injunction  not  to  forsake  the  as- 
 sembling of  themselves  together.        Anon. 
 
 HOUSE  OP  GOD— Pleasures  of  tlie. 
 
 A  lady,  in  company,  was  once  speaking 
 of  the  pleasures  of  going  to  the  theatre. 
 First,  there  was  the  pleasure  of  thinking 
 of  the  scenes  which  were  to  be  acted  be- 
 fore going.  Secondly,  the  pleasure  of 
 vv'itnessing  them  when  there.  Thirdly, 
 the  pleasure  of  remembering  them  after 
 they  were  over.  An  old  gentleman  who 
 heard  the  remarks,  observed,  "There  is 
 one  pleasure  which  you  have  forgotten." 
 "  What  is  that  ?"  inquired  the  lady.  "  The 
 pleasure  of  thinking  of  the  theatre  when 
 you  come  to  die."  "  Ah,"  said  the  lady, 
 "  I  never  took  that  into  the  calculation." 
 Is  not  this  the  way  with  millions  in  their 
 enjoyments  of  this  life  ?  The  reflections 
 of  the  dying  hour  are  never  thought  of! 
 
 How  much  greater  are  the  pleasures  of 
 God's  people  in  going  to  His  house !  In 
 addition  to  the  pleasures  stated  above,  they 
 have  the  fourth — the  pleasure  of  happy 
 reflections  in  the  dying  day.       John  Bate. 
 
 HUMANITY— before  Glory. 
 
 Antonius  Pius,  the  Roman  emperor,  was 
 an  amiable  man  and  a  good  prince.  Wlien 
 some  of  his  courtiers  attempted  to  influence 
 him  with  a  passion  for  military  glory,  he 
 answered,  that  he  more  desired  the  preser- 
 vation of  one  subject,  than  the  destruction 
 of  a  thousand  enemies.  Anon. 
 
 HUMANITY— Lesson  of. 
 
 The  night  after  the  battle  of  Bassano, 
 the  moon  rose  cloudJess  and  brilliant  over 
 the  sanguinary  scene.  Napoleon,  who  sel- 
 dom exhibited  any  hilarity,  or  even  exhila- 
 ration of  spirits  in  the  hour  of  victory,  rode, 
 accompanied  by  his  start",  over  the  plain 
 covered  with  the  bodies  of  the  dying  and 
 the  dead,  and,  silent  and  thoughtful,  seemed 
 lost  in  painful  reverie. 
 
 It  was  midnight.  The  confusion  and  the 
 uproar  of  the  battle  had  passed  away,  and 
 the  deep  silence  of  the  calm  starlight  night 
 was  only  disturbed  by  the  moans  of  the 
 wounded  and  dying.  Suddenly  a  dog  sprang 
 from  beneath  the  cloak  of  his  dead  master, 
 and  rushed  to  Napoleon  as  if  frantically  im- 
 ploring his  aid,  and  then  rushed  back  again 
 
 to  the  mangled  corpse,  licking  the  blood 
 from  its  face  and  hands,  and  howling  most 
 piteously.  Napoleon  was  deeply  moved 
 by  the  afiiectiug  scene,  and  turned  to  his 
 ofTicers,  with  his  hand  pointed  towards  the 
 faithful  dog,  and  said  with  evident  emo- 
 tion, "  Tliere,  gentlemen,  that  dog  teaches 
 us  a  lesson  of  humanity."  Denton. 
 
 HUMANITY— Stream  of. 
 
 Doubtless,  if  we  could  stand — as  so  many 
 brave  hearts  have  striven  to  do — beside  the 
 fount  of  the  Nile,  it  would  be  hard  to  think 
 that  little  trickling  stream  was  actually 
 the  same  as  the  great  river  of  Egypt,  and 
 that  it  should  grow  and  swell  deeper  and 
 stronger,  receiving  the  floods  of  heaven 
 and  the  tribute  of  earth,  till  at  last  it 
 should  roll  in  resistless  seas  of  water,  bear- 
 ing fertility  and  blessing  over  all  the  laud. 
 Hardly  could  we  bring  ourselves  to  call 
 that  poor  weak  rill  the  Nile !  But  before 
 one  Eye  at  least  in  the  universe  the  feeble 
 spring  and  the  mighty  river  are  one.  He 
 sees  it  all  mapped  out  from  its  source  in 
 weakness,  to  its  end  in  power.  And  can 
 we  never  rise  high  enough  into  the  upper 
 air  of  thought  to  see  like  Him  our  human 
 fellow-rivers,  not  only  in  their  feeble 
 struggles  through  the  rocks  and  stones  in 
 their  path,  but  as  they  shall  be  hereafter, 
 far  away,  perhaps  a  thousand  years  to 
 come,  down  cataracts  of  death,  and  past 
 long  deserts  of  unknown  worlds — but  as 
 they  shall  surely  be  at  last,  each  flowing 
 on,  a  majestic  benediction  through  the 
 universe,  reflecting  on  his  ever-swelling 
 bosom  the  infinite  glory  of  God  ? 
 
 Miss  Colle. 
 HUMANITY— Unity  of. 
 
 Humanity  is  a  continuous  chain,  one  link 
 fastened  to  another  and  following  it,  not  as 
 having  in  itself  wholly  independent  action, 
 but  as  being  put  into  motion  by  the  link 
 that  preceded  it.  It  is  the  majestic  march 
 of  the  locomotive  and  its  train  along  the 
 railway  of  time.  Carriage  after  carriage 
 passes,  one  generation  succeeding  another, 
 but  each  drawn  on  by  its  last  predecessor, 
 the  coupling-chain  binding  one  to  another 
 into  a  continuous  whole :  as  is  a  railway 
 train,  so  is  humanity  throughout  all  its 
 generations — one.  R.  Broivn. 
 
 HUMAN  NATURE— Man's  Enemy. 
 
 There  is  not  a  beast  of  the  field  but  may 
 tru>t  his  nature  and  follow  it ;  certain  that 
 it  will  lead  him  to  the  best  of  which  he  is 
 capable.  But  as  for  us,  our  only  invincible 
 enemy  is  our  nature ;  were  it  sound,  we 
 could  hold  circumstances  as  lightly  as 
 Samson's  withs  ;  but  it  is  evermore  be- 
 traying us.  Often,  when  we  honestly 
 meant  to  be  good  and  noble,  our  miserable 
 nature,  at  the  first  favorable  juncture  of 
 circumstances,  betrayed  us  again,  and  we 
 
HUMAN  NATURE— HUMBLE. 
 
 found  ourselves  falling  by  our  own  hands, 
 and  bitterly  felt  that  we  were  our  own 
 enemies.  Heal  us  at  the  heart,  and  then 
 let  the  world  come  on !  we  are  ready  for 
 the  conflict.  Make  us  sound  within,  and 
 we  will  stand  in  the  evil  day.  We  can 
 defy  circumstances  and  resist  the  devil,  if 
 only  our  own  breast  become  not  a  hold  of 
 traitors;  if  inclinations,  silent,  subtle,  and 
 strong  as  nature,  do  not  arise  to  beguile 
 us  into  captivity  to  evil.  W,  Arthur. 
 
 HUMAN  NATURE— Productive  of  Evil. 
 
 Human  nature  is  said  by  many  to  be 
 good  ;  if  so,  where  have  social  evils  come 
 from  ?  For  human  nature  is  the  only 
 moral  nature  in  that  (X)rrupting  thing 
 called  "society."  Every  evil  example  set 
 before  the  child  of  to-day  is  the  fruit  of 
 human  nature.  It  has  been  planted  in 
 every  possible  field — among  the  snows  that 
 never  melt ;  in  temperate  regions,  and 
 under  the  line ;  in  crowded  cities,  in  lonely 
 forests:  in  ancient  seats  of  civilisation,  in 
 new  colonies ;  and  in  all  these  fields  it  has, 
 without  once  failing,  brought  forth  a  crop 
 of  sins  and  troubles.  This  is  absolute  arid 
 inexpugnable  proof  that  human  nature,  in 
 the  aggregate,  is  a  seed  whicli  produces 
 sins  and  troubles.  W.  Arthur. 
 
 HUMAN  NATURE— Unnatural. 
 
 Man  is  the  only  being  coming  within 
 our  knowledge  who  has  a  nature  that  is 
 plainly  unnatural.  This  language  is  not 
 paradoxical  for  the  sake  of  paradox,  but 
 for  the  sake  of  describing  a  mournful  fact. 
 Is  a  nature  natural  which  can  be  changed 
 without  destroying  the  identity  ?  That  of 
 man  can  be  clianged,  and  not  only  have 
 his  identity  perfect,  but  restore  the  course 
 of  a  higher,  and  evidently  an  older,  nature 
 than  the  one  which  had  previously  reigned. 
 Is  a  nature  natural  which  urges  toward 
 courses  which  blight  and  ruin  ?  Human 
 nature,  when  least  afl'ected  by  culture,  in 
 the  loneliest  and  loveliest  islands  of  unfre- 
 quented seas,  urges  to  courses  of  headlong 
 ruin  and  destruction.  In  the  highest 
 seats  of  civilisation,  it  urges  men  to  neg- 
 lect the  God  of  all,  though  they  believe 
 that  to  Him  they  are  indebted  for  being, 
 reason,  and  joy,  and  on  Him  are  dependent 
 for  tlieir  continuance  ;  urges  them  to  neg- 
 lect objects  which  they  believe  to  be  truly 
 noble  and  of  eternal  utility,  for  pleasures 
 which  they  cannot  help  despising,  and  for 
 gains  which  they  know  are  neither  honor- 
 able nor  lasting.  In  proof  of  this,  more 
 than  enough  is  said  by  the  simple  words, 
 London,  Paris,  Rome.  Yet,  while  their 
 nature  is  thus  overriding  their  true  dig- 
 nity, true  happiness,  and  true  interest,  a 
 voice  within,  as  of  a  friend  who  lias  sur- 
 vived from  better  days,  is  ever  protesting 
 against  this  monstrous  condition  of  things, 
 
 and    averring    that    this    nature    is  not 
 nature.  W.  Arthur. 
 
 HUMAN  SOCIETY— Changes  in. 
 
 When  one  sea  floweth,  another  ebbeth. 
 When  one  star  riseth,  another  setteth. 
 When  light  is  in  Goslien,  darkness  is  in 
 Egypt.  When  Moi-decai  groweth  into 
 favour,  Haman  groweth  out  of  favour. 
 When  Benjamin  beginneth,  Rachel  endeth. 
 Thus  we  are  rising  or  setting  ;  getting  or 
 spending  ;  winning  or  losing  ;  growing  or 
 fading,  until  we  arrive  at  heaven  or  hell. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 HUMAN  SOCIETY— a  Circle. 
 
 Human  society  is  a  vast  circle  of  beings 
 on  a  plain,  in  the  midst  of  which  stands 
 the  shrine  of  goodness  and  happiness,  in- 
 viting all  to  approach  ;  now  the  attached 
 pairs  in  this  circle  should  not  be  con- 
 tinually looking  on  each  other,  but  should 
 turn  their  faces  very  often  toward  this 
 central  object,  and  as  they  advance  they 
 will,  like  radii  from  the  circumference  to 
 tlie  centre,  continually  become  closer  to 
 each  other,  as  they  approximate  to  their 
 mutual  and  ultimate  object.  J.  Foster. 
 
 HUMAN  SOCIETY— Phases  of. 
 
 In  riding  through  a  Canadian  forest 
 one  day,  I  was  particularly  impressed  with 
 the  appearance  of  the  trees.  Some  were 
 taller  than  others,  some  stronger,  some 
 weaker ;  some  with  foliage,  others  with 
 none ;  some  blossoming,  others  bearing 
 fruit,  some  full  grown  and  on  the  decline  j 
 some  standing  in  a  state  of  death,  others 
 fiiUen  through  their  own  corruption  ;  some 
 standing  erect  in  the  full  vigour  of  life,  ap- 
 parently independent  of  all  around ;  others 
 seemingly  delicate  and  leaning  upon  a 
 neighbour  for  support ;  some  thin,  weakly 
 plants,  others  bulky  and  gigantic  ;  some 
 which  had  been  cut  down  by  the  woodman's 
 axe,  others  which  had  fallen  before  the 
 tempest's  blast ;  some  in  the  last  stage  of 
 decay  lying  on  the  earth,  and  others  just 
 springing  up  out  of  the  middle  of  their 
 death-trunks  and  roots.  In  how  many 
 respects  is  this  scene  an  emblem  of  human 
 society !  John  Bate. 
 
 HUMBLE— God  with  the. 
 Thou  High  and  Lofty  One,  afar 
 Beyond  creation's  farthest  star, 
 Inhabiting  eternity, — the  high 
 And  holy  palace  of  the  sky  ; 
 Oh  !  am  I  not  too  low  for  Thee, 
 To  stoop  to  visit,  and  to  dwell  with  me  ? 
 A  still,  small  whisper  answers,  No, 
 His  chosen  dwelling  is  below  ; 
 Within  the  contrite  sinner's  breast, 
 'Mid  tears  and  sighs  He  loves  to  rest; 
 And  they  who  tremble  at  His  word. 
 In  praise  and  supplication  shall  be  heard. 
 Anon. 
 
460  HUMILITY. 
 
 HUMILITY— Abstinence  of. 
 
 Humility  is  the  truest  abstinence  in  the 
 world.  It  is  abstinence  from  self-love  and 
 self-conceit ;  the  hardest  and  severest  ab- 
 stinence. It  is  abstinence  from  vaunting 
 our  own  praise  and  exploits,  and  lessening 
 the  merits  of  other  men.  It  is  abstinence 
 from  ambition  and  avarice — the  strongest 
 propensities  in  our  nature ;  and,  conse- 
 quently, it  is  the  severest  mortification  and 
 the  noblest  self-denial.  Delany. 
 
 HUMILITY— Advantages  of. 
 
 No  vessels  that  God  delights  so  much  to 
 fill  as  broken  vessels,  contrite  spirits.  "  He 
 resisteth  the  proud,  and  giveth  grace  to 
 the  humble"  (Jam.  iv,  6).  The  silver  dews 
 flow  down  from  the  mountains  to  the 
 lowest  valleys.  A  humble  soul  that  lies 
 low,  oh,  what  sights  of  God  has  he  !  what 
 glory  does  he  behold,  when  the  proud  soul 
 sees  nothing.  He  that  is  in  the  low  pits 
 and  caves  of  the  earth  sees  the  stars  in  the 
 firmament,  when  tliey  who  are  upon  the 
 tops  of  the  mountains  discern  them  not. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 
 Those  showers  of  grace  that  slide  off 
 from  the  lofty  mountains  rest  on  the  val- 
 leys, and  maiie  them  fruitful.  He  giveth 
 grace  to  the  lowly  ;  He  loves  to  bestow  it 
 where  there  is  most  room  to  receive  it,  and 
 most  return  of  ingenuous  and  entire  praises 
 npon  the  receipt.  Such  is  the  humble 
 heart ;  and  truly,  as  much  humility  gains 
 much  grace,  so  it  grows  by  it.      Leighton. 
 
 HUMILITY— Apostolic. 
 
 It  has  been  remarked  that  soon  after 
 Paul  was  converted  he  declared  himself 
 "  unworthy  to  be  called  an  apostle."  As 
 time  rolled  on  and  he  grew  in  grace,  he 
 cried  out,  "  I  am  less  than  the  least  of  all 
 saints."  And  just  before  his  martyrdom, 
 when  he  had  reached  the  stature  of  a  per- 
 fect man  in  Christ,  his  exclamation  was, 
 "  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners."  Anon. 
 
 HUMILITY— Characteristics  of. 
 
 Humility   is  the  softening  shadow  before 
 tlie  statue  of  Excellence, 
 
 And    lieth   lowly  on  the   ground,   beloved 
 and  lovely  as  the  violet  ; 
 
 Humility    is    the    fair-haired    maid,   that 
 calleth  Worth  her  brother. 
 
 The  gentle  silent  nurse,  that  fostereth  in- 
 fant virtues : 
 
 Humility  bringeth  no  excuse  j  she  is  wel- 
 come to  God  and  man  : 
 
 Her  countenance  is  needful  unto  all,  who 
 would  prosper  in  either  world ; 
 
 And  the  mild  light  of  her   sweet  face   is 
 mirrored  in  the  eyes  of  her  companions. 
 
 And    straightway    stand    they    accepted, 
 children  of  penitence  and  love. 
 
 Tujjper. 
 
 HUMILITY— Christ  Teaches. 
 
 He  voluntarily  mourned,  because  mourn- 
 ing humiliates,  and  He  would  be  humble  ; 
 He  daily  suffered  because  suffering  sub- 
 dues the  pride  of  human  hearts,  and  He 
 would  teach  us  to  accomplish  that  conquest. 
 It  was  the  humiliation  of  a  God  to  take 
 our  nature  at  all ;  it  was  the  humiliation  of 
 a  man  to  crucify  that  nature  daily.  He 
 knew  what  sages  had  failed  to  see,  that  it 
 was  loftiest  when  lowest ;  that  as  it  sank 
 to  humbleness  it  rose  in  glory.  And  thus 
 the  model  of  all  He  taught.  Himself  "  the 
 first-born  from  the  dead."  He  soared  to 
 heaven  with  a  spirit  lowly  as  the  grave  He 
 left ;  thus  beats  there,  at  the  right  hand  of 
 the  Majesty  on  high,  a  human  heart — the 
 heart  of  an  enthroned  King — more  softly 
 svibdued  to  mercy,  more  meekly  patient, 
 than  ever  sorrowed  among  the  loneliest 
 solitudes  of  earthly  affliction. 
 
 Archer  Butler. 
 HUMILITY— not  Contemptible. 
 
 Humility  did  not  make  John  the  Bap- 
 tist contemptible ;  but  when  he  refused 
 the  name  of  a  prophet,  Christ  saith  that  he 
 was  more  than  a  prophet.  Humility  did 
 not  make  Moses  contemptible  ;  but  as  he 
 was  the  mildest  man  upon  earth,  so  he  was 
 the  greatest  upon  earth.  Humility  did  not 
 make  David  contemptible;  but  when  he 
 humbled  himself  he  said  unto  Michal,  "  I 
 will  be  more  humble  yet,  and  lowly  in 
 mine  own  sight,  yet  thou  and  thy  maids 
 shall  honour  me."  As  Christ  ceased  not 
 to  be  a  king  because  he  was  like  a  servant, 
 nor  to  be  a  lion  because  He  was  a  Lamb, 
 nor  to  be  a  God  because  he  was  made  man, 
 nor  to  be  a  judge  because  He  was  judged; 
 so  man  doth  not  lose  his  honour  by  hu- 
 mility ;  but  he  shall  be  honoured  for  his 
 humility,  as  the  son  was  h(moured  when  he 
 was  humbled  (Luke  xv,  18 — 25).  Thus  hu- 
 mility hath  found  tliat  which  pride  sought ; 
 like  little  David,  which  was  least  accounted 
 of,  and  yet  got  the  victory,  yea,  when  no 
 man  durst  encounter  with  the  giant  (1  Sara, 
 xvii,  28).  kenry  Smith. 
 
 HUMILITY— Examples  of. 
 
 Ahraham  (Gen.  xviii,  27) ;  Jacob  (Gen. 
 xxxii,  10);  Moses  {l^\o.  iii,  11;  iv.  10); 
 Joshua  (Jos.  vii,  6)  ;  Gideon  (Jud.  vi,  15)  ; 
 David  (1  Chron.  xxix  14)  ;  Sezekiah 
 (2  Chron.  xxxii,  26);  Manasseh  (,2  Chron. 
 xxxiii,  12) ;  Josiah  (2  Chron.  xxxiv.  27)  ; 
 Job  (Job  xl,  4  ;  xlii,  6) ;  Isaiah  (Isa.  vi,  5) ; 
 Jeremiah  (Jer.  i,  6) ;  John  the  Baptist 
 (Matt,  iii,  14) ;  Centurion  (Matt,  viii,  8); 
 Woman  of  Canaan  (Matt,  xv,  27);  Eliza- 
 beth (Luke  i,  43)  ;  Beter  (Luke  v,  8)  ;  Baul 
 (Acts  XX,  19).  Anon. 
 
 HUMILITY— Feigned. 
 
 There  are  many  professors  who  indulge 
 
HUMILITY. 
 
 461 
 
 in  a  habit  of  saying,  under  a  disguised 
 pretence,  what  they  do  not  themselves 
 truly  believe,  and  what  they  would  be 
 heartily  sorry  that  others  should  believe  of  i 
 them.  An  instance  of  this  was  lately  men- 
 tioned to  me  by  the  deacon  of  a  Christian 
 church.  One  of  the  members  was  indulg- 
 ing freely  in  this  strain :  "  What  a  poor 
 short-coming  creature  I  am  !"  His  minister 
 sighed,  and  said,  "  Indeed  you  have  long 
 given  me  painful  reason  to  believe  you." 
 Whereupon  the  member,  being  taken  at 
 his  word,  replied,  in  a  tone  of  anger,  "Who 
 told  you  anything  about  me  ?  1  am  as 
 good  as  you.  I  will  not  come  to  hear  you 
 any  more :  I  will  go  somewhere  else." 
 And  so  he  did.  Dr.  R.  Newton. 
 
 HUMILITY— Growth  of. 
 
 It  is  as  one  who  stands  by  the  margin  of 
 a  lake,  and  gazes  on  his  own  image  close 
 beneath  him  ;  conceive  this  contemplator 
 of  himself  borne  gradually  aloft  towards 
 the  heavens,  and  the  image  which  he  still 
 beholds  as  he  soars  will  deepen  in  propor- 
 tion as  he  rises.  Archer  Butler. 
 
 HUMILITY— Honour  of. 
 
 The  bird  that  eoars  on  highest  wing 
 
 Builds  on  the  ground  her  lowly  nest ; 
 And  she  that  doth  most  sv.'eetly  sing 
 
 Sings  in  the  shade  when  all  things  rest , 
 In  lark  and  nightingale  we  see 
 What  honour  hath  humility. 
 When  Mary  chose  the  "  better  part," 
 
 She  meekly  sat  at  Jesus'  feet ; 
 And  Lydia's  gently  opened  heart 
 
 Was  made  for  God's  own  temple  meet ; 
 Fairest  and  best  adorned  i«  she 
 Whose  clothing  is  humility. 
 
 The   saint   that  wears   heaven's  brightest 
 crown 
 
 In  deepest  adoration  bends ; 
 The  weight  of  glory  bows  him  down 
 
 The  most  when  most  his  soul  ascends ; 
 Nearest  tlie  throne  itself  must  be 
 The  footstool  of  humility.     J.  Montgomery. 
 HUMILITY— Modesty  of. 
 
 A  lady  applied  to  a  celebrated  philan- 
 thropist on  behalf  of  an  orphan  child. 
 W^hen  he  had  bidden  her  draw  on  him  for 
 any  amount,  she  said,  "As  soon  as  the 
 child  is  old  enough  I  will  teach  him  to 
 thank  you."  "  Stop,"  said  the  good  man, 
 "  you  are  mistaken.  We  do  not  thank 
 the  clouds  for  rain  ;  teach  the  child  to 
 look  higher  and  to  thank  Him  who  gives 
 both  the  clouds  and  the  rain." 
 
 G.  S.  Bowes. 
 HUMILITY— above  Pride, 
 
 Two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to 
 pray,  the  one  a  very  righteous  man,  as  he 
 seemed  to  himself  and  to  others,  the  other 
 an  unrighteous  man,  as  he  seemed  to  him- 
 
 self and  to  others ;  but  God,  who  seeth 
 not  as  man  seeth,  accounted  the  unrigh- 
 teous man  the  more  righteous  of  the  two. 
 So  have  I  seen  two  flowers  side  by  side,  the 
 one  erect,  and  without  a  misgiving,  looking 
 up  to  heaven,  the  other  with  its  head  all 
 adown  upon  its  breast,  looking  only  to  the 
 earth.  But  the  flower  that  looked  earth- 
 ward, as  though  not  worthy  to  look  heaven- 
 ward, was  the  more  heavenly  of  the  two. 
 Then  said  I,  Pride  and  self-sufficiency  are 
 a  miserable  insufficiency ;  but  meekness 
 and  self-distrust  are  allied  to  all-sufficiency. 
 Question  :  Does  God  always  give  least  to 
 those  who  think  themselves  greatest,  and 
 most  to  those  who  think  least  of  them- 
 selves ?  Answer :  Humility  hath  the 
 palm.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 HUMILITY— in  Religion. 
 
 St.  Augustine  being  asked,  "  Wliat  is  the 
 first  thing  in  religion  ?"  replied,  "  Humi- 
 lity ;"  and  what  the  second  ?  "  Humility ;" 
 and  what  the  third  ?     "  Humility." 
 
 He  who  has  other  graces  without  humi- 
 lity, is  like  one  who  carries  a  box  of 
 precious  powder  without  a  cover,  on  a 
 windy  day.  Anon. 
 
 HUMILITY— Signs  of. 
 
 As  the  lark  that  soars  the  highest,  builds 
 her  nest  the  lowest:  the  nightingale  that 
 sings  the  sweetest,  sings  in  the  shade  when 
 all  things  rest ;  the  branches  that  are  most 
 laden  with  ripe  i'ruit,  bend  lowest;  the 
 valleys  are  fruitful  in  their  lowliness;  and 
 the  ship  most  laden  sinks  deepest  in  the 
 water, — so  the  holiest  Christians  are  the 
 humblest.  J.  Mason. 
 
 HUMILITY— True. 
 
 True  humility  is  not  a  cringing  prostra- 
 tion of  the  soul  before  another  man,  because 
 he  is  rich,  or  great,  or  learned,  or  noble,  or 
 royal.  Nor  is  that  humility  which  cringes 
 and  pi-ostrates  itself  before  the  saints  and 
 the  Virgin  Mary,  and  has  constructed  the 
 gigantic  corporation  headed  by  the  hierarchy 
 of  the  Church  of  Rome.  True  humility 
 courts  not  the  smile  (though  it  is  thankful 
 when  it  has  it)  of  the  great,  and  it  fears 
 not  their  frown.  It  leans  not  upon  the 
 mighty,  because  it  leans  upon  the  Lord. 
 It  bows  itself  to  the  dust  before  the  least 
 word  from  heaven;  it  stands  erect  in  its 
 conscious  quality  before  the  mightiest  of 
 human  kind.  Humility  has  often  been 
 arrayed  in  the  most  grotesque,  in  the  most 
 extravagant  and  ridiculous  garbs.  The 
 mere  ape  of  it  has  lived  in  solitudes,  and 
 perched  for  years  upon  lofty  pillars,  dwelt 
 in  dark  caves,  and  worn  hair-cloth  dresses, 
 has  mutilated  the  body,  starved  and  stinted 
 the  flesh,  muttered  long  prayers,  gone  on 
 weary  pilgrimages,  and  passed  the  night  in 
 wearisome  vigils,  and  aU  the  while  looked 
 
462 
 
 HUMILITY— HUSBAITD. 
 
 around  if  anybody  was  admiring  so  won- 
 derful a  model  of  liumility  before  God  and 
 man.  This  is  the  mockery  of  it,  the 
 bypocrisy  that  assumes  its  guise,  not  the 
 reality.  This  is  the  very  humility  that  has 
 gathered  the  faggots,  kindled  the  flames, 
 burned  the  saints  ;  that  has  scourged 
 Europe  with  religious  wars,  pronounced 
 conscience  a  crime,  reason  a  folly ;  that 
 has  declared  the  child's  smile  was  sin  if  it 
 occurred  upon  the  Sabbath,  and  that  the 
 expression  of  the  young  heart — its  loud  and 
 merry  laughter — was  inconsistent  with  real 
 and  true  religion.  This  is  the  mockery, 
 the  forgery,  the  pretence,  not  the  reality. 
 True  humility  is  of  another  stamp.  It  calls 
 no  man  master,  and  seems  to  worldly  men 
 to  be  pride,  but  it  is  only  its  deep  deference 
 to  God  that  enables  it  to  set  man  in  his  own 
 lowly  place.  True  humility  prefers  mercy 
 to  sacrifice ;  does  good  and  is  silent ;  bears 
 suffering  ;ind  is  patient ;  rises  above  school- 
 men, priest,  and  tradition  j  looks  to  Christ, 
 sits  at  His  feet  and  learns  only  from  Him. 
 True  humility  will  bid  the  priest,  the 
 church,  the  minister,  and  the  schoolmen 
 remain,  as  Abraham  his  servants,  at  the 
 bottom  of  the  mount,  while  it  rises  to  the 
 loftiest  crag  of  that  mount,  and  deals  alone 
 with  God,  and  holds  communion  with  Him 
 only.  True  humility  counts  holiness  far  more 
 splendid  than  robes  and  phylacteries,  pre- 
 fers beneficence  to  ceremony,  lives  a  divine 
 life,  and  is  not  satisfied  with  merely  talk- 
 ing about  it  and  praising  it.  It  wears 
 not  a  hair-cloth  shirt,  nor  whines  when 
 it  speaks,  nor  puts  on  a  sour  and  repulsive 
 countenance,  nor  fancies  that  God  can  only 
 be  ajiproached,  and  religion  spoken  of,  in 
 sepulchral  tones.  But  it  does  not  seem  to 
 men  to  fost.  It  fasts  before  God.  There 
 is  nothing  of  display  and  parade  that 
 would  indicate  it  was  of  earth,  everything 
 to  prove  that  it  is  implanted  within  from 
 its  father  in  heaven.  The  kingdom  of  God 
 is  not  meat,  nor  drink,  nor  phylactery,  nor 
 robe,  nor  rite,  nor  ceremony,  nor  outward 
 appearance,  nor  peculiar  tone,  nor  strange 
 conduct ;  but  it  is  righLtousness, and  peace, 
 and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  Do  not  affect 
 humility.  The  moment  humility  is  spoken 
 of  by  him  that  has  it,  that  moment  it  is 
 gone.  It  is  like  those  delicate  things  which 
 dissolve  the  instant  they  are  touched.  You 
 must  seek  out  the  violet ;  it  does  not,  like 
 the  poppy,  thrust  itself  upon  your  notice. 
 The  moment  humility  tells  you  "  I  am 
 here,"  there  is  an  end  to  it. 
 
 Br.  Cumming. 
 
 Judge  thyself  with  the  judgment  of  sin- 
 cerity, and  thou  wilt  judge  others  with  the 
 judgment  of  charity.  That  is  true  humility 
 which,  like  a  harbinger,  makes  w.iy  for 
 Christ,  and  throws  the  soul  at  His  feet. 
 
 J.  Mason. 
 
 HUMILITY— the  Way  of  God. 
 
 Humility  is  peculiarly  the  ioay  of  God. 
 Indeed,  if  it  were  not,  how  could  any  rela- 
 tion subsist  between  Him  and  His  crea- 
 tures ?  Neither  men  nor  angels  could 
 know  anything  of  the  Creator,  if  He  did 
 not  humble  Himself.  To  all  eternity,  the 
 children  must  abide  in  ignorance  of  their 
 Almighty  Father,  if  He  were  not  pleased 
 to  show  Himself  to  them  ;  and  to  show 
 Himself  to  creatures.  He  must  humble 
 Himself.  To  show  Himself  to  fallen  crea- 
 tures in  a  fallen  world.  He  must  abase 
 Himself.  To  do  them  service.  He  must 
 come  nearer  to  them  ;  to  do  them  the 
 utmost  service.  He  must  become  one  of 
 them.  He  must  be  made  flesh  and  dwell 
 among  them.  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 HUSBAND— Choosing  a. 
 
 Young  woman  !  if  a  rich  young  man  asks 
 you  to  marry  him,  and  has  no  occupation, 
 or  trade,  or  calling  by  which  he  could  make 
 a  living  if  he  were  thrown  on  his  own  re- 
 sources, you  may  give  him  your  respect, 
 but  "  give  him  the  mitten." 
 
 Whatever  may  be  a  young  man's  quali- 
 ties, if  he  is  fond,  very  fond  of  going  to 
 the  theatre,  "  refuse"  him. 
 
 If  a  young  man  shows  by  his  conversa- 
 tion that  he  is  an  admirer  of  fast  horses, 
 and  is  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the 
 qualities  and  "  time"  of  the  best  racing 
 nags  of  the  country,  when  be  asks  your 
 hand,  "  give  him  the  mitten  only." 
 
 If  you  ever  hear  a  young  man  speak  of 
 his  father  or  mother  disrespectfully,  con- 
 temptuously, do  not  encourage  his  atten- 
 tions; he  will  do  the  same  of  you,  and  in 
 many  ways  will  make  your  heart  ache  be- 
 fore you  die. 
 
 If  you  know  a  young  man  likes  to  stand 
 around  tavern-doors,  at  the  street  corners, 
 and  about  "  groceries,"  cut  your  hand  off" 
 rather  than  place  it  in  his;  he  is  worth 
 only  the  "  mitten." 
 
 If  your  suitor  can  tell  you  a  great  deal 
 about  cards;  seems  familiar  with  a  multi- 
 tude of  "  tricks"  which  can  be  performed 
 with  the  same,  and  is  himself  an  adept  in 
 such  things,  let  him  win  all  the  money  he 
 may  from  others,  but  let  him  not  "win" 
 your  heart,  for  he  will  "  lose  it"  in  a  year, 
 and  leave  you  a  broken  one  in  its  place. 
 
 If  you  know  of  a  "  nice  young  man" 
 who  will  certainly  heir  a  large  estate,  who 
 is  of  a  "  highly  respectable  fiimily,"  who 
 seems,  to  be  at  home  as  to  the  usages,  cus- 
 toms, and  proprieties  of  good  society,  and 
 yet  who  is  indifferent  about  attending 
 cliurch  on  the  Sabbath  day,  who  speaks 
 disparagingly  of  clergymen,  who  talks 
 about  religion  in  a  patronising  way  as  "  a 
 very  good  thing  in  its  phice,"  particularly 
 for  old  women,  weak  young  girls,  and  chii- 
 
HUSBAND  AND  WIFE— HYPCCPwISY. 
 
 463 
 
 dren,  never  marry  him  should  he  ask  you. 
 Such  a  man  can  never  warm  a  woman's 
 heart  ;  will  never  twine  around  it  the 
 tendrils  of  a  true  aft'eclion,  for  he  is  in- 
 nately cold,  unsympathising,  and  selfish, 
 and  should  sickness  and  trouble  come  to 
 you,  he  will  leave  you  to  bear  them  all 
 alone. 
 
 Idleness,  the  having  no  occupation,  will 
 always  and  inevitably  engender  moral  and 
 physical  disease;  and  these  traits  will  be 
 more  or  less  perpetuated  in  the  children 
 born  to  such ;  the  brunt  of  these  calamities 
 has  to  be  borne  by  the  mother,  and  in  the 
 beiring  up  against  them  how  many  a 
 noble-hearted  woman  has  sorrowed,  and 
 grieved,  and  toiled  herself  into  a  premature 
 grave  may  never  be  known,  but  the  number 
 cannot  be  expressed  in  a  few  figures. 
 Therefore,  my  sunny-faced  daughter,  if  you 
 do  not  want  to  grow  old  before  your  time, 
 to  live  a  life  of  toil  and  sorrow,  and  then 
 prematurely  die,  give  not  your  hand,  but 
 only  "the  mitten"  to  a  young  man,  how- 
 ever well  born  or  rich,  who  has  not  a  legiti- 
 mate calling  by  which  he  could  "  make  a 
 living"  if  he  were  by  some  fortuity  left 
 penniless.  Dr.  Hall. 
 
 HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 
 
 Did  you  ever  hear  the  word  "  husband" 
 explained  ?  It  means  literally  "  the  band 
 of  the  house,"  the  support  of  it,  the  person 
 who  keeps  it  together,  as  a  band  keeps  to- 
 gether a  sheaf  of  corn.  There  are  many 
 married  men  who  are  not  husbands,  be- 
 cause they  are  not  the  band  of  the  house. 
 Truly,  in  many  cases,  the  wife  is  the  hus- 
 band; far  oftentimes  it  is  she  who,  by  her 
 prudence,  and  thrift,  and  economy,  keeps 
 the  house  together.  The  married  man  who, 
 by  his  dissolute  habits,  strips  his  house  of 
 all  comfort,  is  not  a  husband ;  in  a  legal 
 sense  he  is,  but  in  no  otiier  ;  for  he  is  not 
 a  house-hand ;  instead  of  keeping  things 
 together,  he  scatters  them  among  the 
 pawnbrokers. 
 
 And  now  let  us  see  whether  the  word 
 "wife"  has  not  a  lesson  too.  It  literally 
 means  a  weaver.     The  wife  is  the  person 
 
 no  weaves.  Before  our  great  cotton  and 
 cloth  factories  arose,  one  of  the  princijjal 
 employments  in  every  house  was  the  fabri- 
 cation of  clothing:  every  family  made  its 
 own.  The  wool  was  spun  into  thread  by 
 the  girls,  who  v»ere  therefore  called  spin- 
 sters;  the  thread  was  woven  into  cloth  by 
 their  mother,  who  accordingly  was  called 
 '.he  weaver,  or  the  wife  :  and  another  rem- 
 nant of  this  old  truth  we  discover  in  the 
 word  "  heirloom,"  a[)plied  to  any  old  piece 
 of  furniture  which  has  come  down  to  us 
 from  our  ancestors,  and  which,  though  it 
 muy  be  a  chair  or  bed,  shows  that  a  loom 
 was  once  a  most  important  article  in  every 
 house.     Thus    the   word    "  wife"   means 
 
 weaver  ;  and,  as  Trench  well  remarks,  "  in 
 the  word  itself  is  wrapped  up  a  hint  of 
 earnest,  in-door,  stay-at-home  occupations, 
 as  binng  fitted  for  her  who  bears  this 
 name."  Anon. 
 
 HYPOCRISY— Emblem  of. 
 
 A  very  capital  painter,  in  London,  ex- 
 hibited a  piece  representing  a  friar  habited 
 in  his  canonicals.  View  the  painting  at  a 
 distance,  and  you  would  think  the  friar  to 
 be  in  a  praying  attitude.  His  hands  are 
 clasped  together,  and  held  horizontally  to 
 his  breast ;  his  eyes  meekly  demissed,  like 
 those  of  the  publican  in  the  Gospel ;  and 
 the  good  man  appears  to  be  quite  absorbed 
 in  humble  adoration  and  devout  recollec- 
 tion. But  take  a  nearer  survey,  and 
 the  deception  vanishes.  The  book  which 
 seemed  to  be  before  him  is  discovered  to 
 be  a  punchbowl,  into  which  the  wretch  is 
 all  the  while,  in  reality,  only  squeezing  a 
 lemon.  How  lively  a  representation  of  a 
 hypocrite !  Bowes. 
 
 HYPOCEISY— Exposure  of. 
 
 The  very  show  of  goodness  shall  be  taken 
 from  them  which  have  not  goodness  itself; 
 lest  men  should  content  themselves  with 
 shows  and  shadows.  Christ  saith.  That 
 which  he  seemcth  to  have  shall  be  taken 
 from  him ;  as  if  He  should  say.  Take  away 
 his  talent  and  his  napkin  too,  that  he  may 
 not  seem  to  have  a  talent ;  as  Moses  saith, 
 I  will  not  leave  a  hoof  behind.  Thou  shalt 
 not  seem  just,  nor  wise,  nor  honest,  but  I 
 will  make  thee  as  naked  to  men  as  Adam 
 was  to  me.  Even  as  the  fig-tree,  because 
 it  had  no  fruit,  was  spoiled  of  his  leaves, 
 which  showed  like  fruit ;  so  they  which 
 have  made  shipwreck  of  honesty  shall 
 make  shipwreck  of  credit  too.  Their  name 
 shall  go  with  a  brand  upon  it,  like  Cain 
 the  murderer,  Achan  the  thief,  Absalom 
 the  rebel.  Magus  the  sorcerer.  Jeroboam 
 had  for  his  title,  Jeroboam  who  made 
 Israel  to  sin.  Demas  had  for  his  title, 
 Demas  which  embraced  the  world.  Mark 
 how  sin  doth  persecute  and  vex  the  sinner. 
 Indeed  Demas  had  embraced  the  world, 
 but  he  would  not  have  the  world  to  know 
 it ;  but  see  first  how  God  makes  Paul  to 
 know  it,  and  after  He  makes  him  to  pro- 
 claim it,  that  now  Demas  is  not  only  a 
 hypocrite,  but  known  to  be  a  hypocrite, 
 like  a  rogue  which  is  burned  in  the  ear. 
 When  Jeroboam's  wife  came  to  the  pro- 
 phet to  inquire  of  her  son,  she  disguised 
 herself  because  she  would  not  be  known; 
 yet  the  prophet  knew  her,  for  so  soon  as 
 she  knocked  at  the  door,  he  called,  Come 
 in,  Jeroboam's  wife  ;  so,  though  men  dis- 
 guise themselves  with  sober  countenances, 
 and  holy  speeches,  and  honest  company, 
 because  they  would  not  be  known  ;  yet, 
 when  God  seeth  a  hypocrite.  He  will  pull 
 
461 
 
 HTPOCEISY— HYPOSTATIC  UNION. 
 
 his  visor  from  his  face,  as  Aclam  was 
 stripped  of  his  fig-leaves,  and  show  the 
 anatomy  of  his  heart  as  though  his  hfe 
 were  written  in  his  forehead,  and  he  shall 
 marvel  how  men  know  that  which  he  scarce 
 thought  had  been  known  to  God. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 HYPOCE-ISY— an  Imitation. 
 
 Art  imitates  nature,  and  the  nearer  it 
 comes  to  nature  in  its  effects,  it  is  the 
 more  excellent.  Grace  is  the  new  nature 
 of  a  Christian,  and  hypocrisy  that  art  that 
 counterfeits  it ;  and  the  more  exquisite  it 
 is  in  imitation,  it  is  the  more  plausible  to 
 men,  hut  the  more  abominable  to  God.  It 
 may  frame  a  spiritual  man  in  image  so  to 
 the  life,  that  not  only  othei's,  but  even  the 
 hypocrite  himself,  may  admire  it,  and 
 favouring  his  own  artifice,  may  be  de- 
 ceived so  far  as  to  say  and  to  think  it 
 lives,  and  fall  in  love  with  it ;  but  he  is 
 no  less  abhorred  by  the  Searcher  of  hearts 
 than  pleasing  to  himself.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 HYPOCEISY— Mischief  of. 
 
 Surely  the  mischief  of  hypocrisy  can 
 never  be  enough  inveighed  against.  When 
 religion  is  in  request,  it  is  the  chief  malady 
 of  the  church,  and  numbers  die  of  it ; 
 though  because  it  is  a  subtle  and  inward 
 evil,  it  be  little  perceived.  It  is  to  be 
 feared  there  are  many  sick  of  it,  that  look 
 well  and  comely  in  God's  outward  worship, 
 and  they  may  pass  well  in  good  weather, 
 in  times  of  ]ieace ;  but  days  of  adversity 
 are  days  of  trial.  Bp.  Mall. 
 
 HYPOCRITE— Character  of  the. 
 
 The  kite  is  a  bird  which  delights  in  the 
 free  air,  and  soars  aloft,  as  if  it  would  fain 
 approach  to  heaven.  All  the  while,  however, 
 it  keeps  its  sharp  eye  continually  directed 
 to  the  earth,  if  haply  it  may  there  spy 
 some  prey  to  seize.  And  like  it  are  hypo- 
 crites ;  they  love  to  speak  of  heavenly  and 
 spiritual  things;  they  go  to  church,  and 
 take  the  holy  suppei-,  they  read  and  pray 
 and  sing  ;  but,  nevertheless,  their  heart 
 retains  its  earthly  inclination,  and  they 
 seek  that  which  is  temporal  more  than 
 that  which  is  eternal.  Ootthold. 
 
 HYPOCEITE— Description  of  the. 
 
 He  speaks,  it  may  be,  like  an  angel,  but 
 he  hath  a  covetous  eye,  or  the  gain  of  un- 
 righteousness in  his  hand;  or  the  hand  is 
 white,  but  his  heart  is  full  of  rottenness ; 
 full  of  unmortilied  cares,  a  very  oven  of 
 lust,  a  shop  of  pride,  the  seat  of  malice. 
 It  may  be,  like  Nebuchadnezzar's  image, 
 he  hath  a  golden  head,  a  great  deal  of 
 knowledge,  but  he  hath  feet  of  clay,  his 
 affections  are  worldly,  he  minds  earthly 
 things,  and  his  way  and  walk  are  sensual 
 and  carnal;    you   may  trace   him   in   his 
 
 secret   haunts,  and   his   footsteps  will   he 
 found  in  some  bye-paths  of  sin.        A.lleine. 
 
 HYPOCRITE— Goodness  of  the. 
 
 Lapidaries  tell  us  of  the  Chelydonian 
 stone,  that  it  will  retain  its  virtue  and 
 lustre  no  longer  than  it  is  enclosed  in  gold. 
 A  fit  emblem  of  the  hypocrite,  who  is  only 
 good  while  he  is  enclosed  in  golden  pros- 
 perity, safety,  and  felicity.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 HYPOCRITE  AND  SAINT. 
 
 The  hypocrite  and  saint  are  like  two 
 men  at  sawing ;  the  hypocrite,  like  him  in 
 the  pit,  looks  high  upward,  but  pulls 
 downward;  the  saint,  like  him  above, 
 looks  low,  humbly  downward,  but  pulls 
 upward.  The  hypocrite  is  like  a  peach, 
 which  covers  a  ragged  craggy  stone  under 
 a  velvet  coat ;  the  saint,  like  the  chestnut, 
 hath  a  sweet  kernel,  though  the  cover  be 
 rough.  The  hypocrite,  like  Judas,  kisses 
 Christ,  but  betrays  Him,  and,  like  ivy,  he 
 clasps  about  Christ,  but  is  not  united  to 
 Him;  he  again,  like  ivy,  derives  not  sap 
 and  nourishment  from  Him,  but  from  a 
 root  of  his  own.  The  hypocrite  is  like  a 
 window  cushion,  fairly  wrought  without, 
 but  stuffed  with  straw.  Venning. 
 
 HYPOCRITES— Selfishness  of. 
 
 Hyijocrites  do  not  walk  with  God,  hut 
 halt  with  Him ;  they  follow  Him  as  a  dog 
 doth  his  master,  till  he  comes  by  a  carrion. 
 Tlie.y  will  launch  no  further  out  into  the 
 main  than  they  may  be  sure  to  return  at 
 pleasure  safe  to  the  shore.  J.  Trapp. 
 
 HYPOSTATIC  UNION— Definition  of. 
 
 The  opinion  of  the  Council  of  Chalcedon 
 in  the  fifth  century  respecting  this  subject 
 was,  "  that  in  Christ  there  is  one  person, 
 in  the  unity  of  person  two  natures,  the 
 Divine  and  the  human ;  and  that  there  is 
 no  change  or  mixture  or  confusion  of  these 
 two  natures  but  that  each  retains  its  own 
 distinguishing  properties."         R.  Watson, 
 
 HYPOSTATIC  UNION— Necessary. 
 
 Had  He  not  possessed  this  double  nature 
 in  the  unity  of  His  person.  He  could  not 
 have  been  our  Prophet:  for,  as  God,  He 
 knows  the  mind  and  will  of  God  (John  i, 
 18;  iii,  13),  and,  as  man,  is  fitted  to  im- 
 part it  suitably  to  us  (Deut.  xviii,  15,  18, 
 compared  with  Acts  iii,  22). 
 
 As  Priest,  had  He  not  been  man.  He 
 could  have  shed  no  blood;  and  if  not  God, 
 it  had  been  no  adequate  value  for  us(Heb. 
 ii,  17  ;  Acts  xx,  28). 
 
 As  King,  had  he  not  been  man,  He  had 
 been  a  heterogeneous,  and  so  no  fit  head 
 for  us;  and  if  not  God,  He  could  neither 
 rule  nor  defend  His  body  the  Church. 
 
 The  learned  Hooker  observes,  that  the 
 dividing  of  Christ's  person,  which  is  hut 
 
I  AM— IDEAS. 
 
 465 
 
 one,  and  the  confouTiding  of  His  natures, 
 which  are  two,  hath  been  the  occasion  of 
 those  errors  which  have  so  greatly  dis- 
 turbed the  peace  of  the  Chuich. 
 
 But  ye,  beloved,  have  not  so  learned 
 Christ.  Ye  know  He  is,  (1)  True  and 
 very  God ;  (2)  true  and  very  man  ;  tliat 
 (3)  these  two  natures  make  but  one  per- 
 son, being  united  inseparably ;  (4)  that 
 they  are  not  confounded  or  swallowed  up 
 one  in  another,  but  remain  still  distinct  in 
 the  person  of  Christ. 
 
 Hold  ye  the  sound  words  which  cannot 
 be  condemned.  Great  things  hang  upon 
 all  these  truths.  O  sufler  not  a  stone  to 
 be  loosed  out  of  the  foundation.        Flavel. 
 
 I  AM. 
 
 When  the  Lord  speaketh  of  Himself, 
 with  regard  to  His  people,  He  saith,  I  am. 
 He  doth  not  say,  I  aui  their  light,  their 
 life,  their  guide,  their  tower,  or  tlieir 
 strength;  but  only  I  AM.  He  sets  His 
 hands  as  it  were  to  a  blank,  that  His 
 people  might  write  under  it  what  they 
 please  that  is  for  their  good.  As  if  He 
 should  say.  Are  they  weak  ?  1  am 
 strength.  Are  they  sick  ?  I  am  health. 
 Are  they  in  trouble  ?  I  am  comfort. 
 Are  they  poor  ?  I  am  riches.  Are  they 
 dying  ?  I  am  life.  Have  they  nothing  ? 
 I  am  all  things.  I  am  justice  and  mercy; 
 I  am  grace  and  goodness;  I  am  glory, 
 beauty,  holiness,  emiuency,  supremacy, 
 perfection,  all-sufficiency,  eternity,  Jehovah 
 — I  am  whatsoever  is  suitable  to  their 
 nature,  or  convenient  for  them  in  their 
 several  conditions.  I  am  whatsoever  is 
 amiable  in  itself,  or  desirable  to  their 
 souls.  Whatsoever  is  pure  and  holy, 
 whatsoever  is  great  and  pleasant,  whatso- 
 ever is  good  and  needful  to  make  them 
 happy,  that  I  am.  So  that,  in  short,  God 
 here  represents  Himself  unto  us  as  one 
 universal  good,  and  leaves  us  to  make  the 
 application  to  ourselves,  according  to  our 
 several  wants,  capacities,  and  desires,  by 
 saying  only  in  general  I  AM. 
 
 Bp.  Beveridge. 
 
 The  "  I  am  "  of  God  is  contrasted  with 
 the  /  am  become  of  all  other  things. 
 Everything  else  is  in  a  state  of  becoming, 
 God  is  in  a  state  of  being.  The  acorn  has 
 become  the  plant,  and  the  plant  has  be- 
 come the  oak.  The  child  has  become  the 
 man,  and  the  man  has  become  good  or 
 wise,  or  whatever  else  it  may  be.  God 
 ever  is.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 IDEA— One. 
 
 It  is  said  that  Luther  was  a  man  of  one 
 idea,  and  that  idea — JESUS.     But  it  does 
 
 not  mean,  I  suppose,  that  he  had  no  other 
 ideas  in  his  mind.  This  would  be  false  to 
 fact.  It  means,  I  conceive,,  tliat  Jesus 
 was  the  one  idea  of  his  mind  from  which 
 all  others  emanated;  the  same  as  the 
 trunk  of  a  tree  is  one,  but  gives  life  and 
 growth  to  scores  of  branches,  hundreds 
 and  thousands  of  buds  and  leaves;  just  as 
 a  great  tradesman  has  one  idea,  his  trade, 
 but  that  divides  and  works  out  into  a 
 thousand  ideas  of  ways  and  means  of 
 promoting  his  trade.  In  this  sense 
 Paul,  Wesley,  Howard,  Whitfield,  Wel- 
 lington, &c.,  &c.,  were  men  of  one  idea. 
 He  who  wishes  to  fulfil  his  mission  in 
 this  world  must  be  a  man  of  one  idea. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 Sometimes  I  hear  a  talk  about  a  man 
 with  one  idea.  Well,  I  like  a  man  to 
 have  an  idea ;  it  is  a  great  property  is  an 
 idea.  Some  people  seem  as  if  they  had  no 
 ideas  at  all;  but  I  like  a  man  of  one  idea. 
 What  is  a  man  of  one  idea  ?  Why  he  is  a 
 man  in  whom  an  idea  takes  possession  of 
 his  skull,  and  of  both  hemispheres  of  his 
 brain ;  of  the  frontal  region,  the  back  re- 
 gion, and  the  lateral  region;  and  t'ne  idea 
 walks  up  and  down  in  his  brain,  from  he- 
 misphere to  hemisphere,  from  convolution 
 to  convolution ;  and  thus  the  man  is 
 literally  a  man  of  one  idea.  And  when 
 the  one  idea  is,  that  knowledge  shall  be 
 everywhere  and  ignorance  nowhere,  order 
 everywhere  and  disorder  nowhere,  liberty 
 everywhere  and  slave-y  nowhere — when 
 that  one  idea  is,  that  trutli  shall  be  every- 
 where and  falsehood  nowhere,  love  every- 
 where and  hatred  nowhere,  concord  everj 
 wliere  and  discord  nowhere,  Christ  every- 
 where and  Satan  nowhere  on  the  earth 
 at  all, — that  is  a  grand  idea. 
 
 Br.  Beaumont, 
 IDEAS — Association  of. 
 
 The  law  of  association  of  ideas  is  well 
 known.  Suddenly,  wlien  far  away  from 
 the  scenes  and  events  of  former  years,  some 
 secret,  invisible,  and  mysterious  sugges- 
 tion makes  the  past  again  a  living  reality. 
 We  know  not  how  the  suggestion  is  made. 
 No  trace  of  the  connecting  link  can  be 
 found,  but  it  reveals  a  wonderful  power  in 
 our  nature.  Through  it  we  are  hurried 
 back  to  some  long-forgotten  thouglit,  or 
 word,  or  deed,  and  made  to  confront  it 
 after  the  lapse  of  many  years  in  some  new 
 form,  or,  till  then,  unperceived  relation. 
 Very  simple  indeed  is  the  process,  but 
 most  remarkable  and  sometimes  terrific 
 the  results.  The  means  by  which  it  is 
 effected  may  be  exceedingly  insignificant. 
 A  change  of  wind,  the  aspect  of  a  flower, 
 the  position  of  the  clouds,  a  peculiar  tone 
 of  voice,  the  expression  of  a  countenance, 
 a  single  word,  any  one  of  these  may  be 
 
466 
 
 IDEAS— IDLENESS. 
 
 quite  sufficient  for  the  purpose ;  but  at  the 
 merest  suggestive  touch,  as  if  by  enchant- 
 ment, the  door  of  the  past  will  fly  open, 
 and  the  deed,  with  its  attendant  circum- 
 stances, stand  revealed  in  solemn  reality. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 IDEAS— Innate. 
 
 Innate  ideas  signify  those  notions  or 
 impressions  supposed  to  have  been  stamped 
 upon  the  mind  from  the  first  instant  of 
 its  existence,  as  contradistinguished  from 
 those  which  it  afterwards  gradually  ac- 
 quires from  without.  Locke  undertook  to 
 demonstrate  that  ideas  are  not  innate; 
 and  the  dispute  has  the  greatest  names 
 arrayed  on  each  side.  Bishop  Law,  the 
 patron  of  Dr.  Paley,  and  a  zealous  partizan 
 of  Locke,  remarks :  "  It  will  really  come 
 to  the  same  thing  with  regard  to  the 
 usual  attributes  of  God,  and  the  nature  of 
 virtue  and  vice,  whether  the  Deity  has 
 implanted  these  instincts  and  affections  in 
 us,  or  has  framed  and  disposed  us  in 
 such  a  manner — has  given  us  such  power 
 and  placed  us  in  such  circumstances — 
 that  we  must  necessarily  acquire  them." 
 
 Smee. 
 IDEAS— Striking. 
 
 Many  things  may  descend  from  the 
 sTcy  of  truth  without  deeply  striking  and 
 interesting  men  ;  as  from  the  sky  of  clouds, 
 rain,  snow,  &c.  may  descend  without  ex- 
 citing ardent  attention  ;  it  must  be  large 
 hailstones,  the  sound  of  thunder,  torrent 
 rain,  and  the  lightning  flash;  analogous 
 to  these  must  be  the  ideas  and  propositions 
 which  strike  men's  minds.  J.  Foster. 
 
 IDENTITY— Bodily. 
 
 Bodily  identity  is  not  a  conclusion  drawn 
 from  the  comparison  or  combination  of 
 other  facts,  but  it  is  itself  a  single  irre- 
 solvable fact  of  consciousness.  The  child, 
 the  savage,  the  philosopher,  are  alike  cer- 
 tain of  the  sameness  of  their  bodies  at 
 different  periods  of  their  lives,  and  on  the 
 same  grounds.  This  intuitive  conviction, 
 as  it  is  not  the  result  of  science,  so  it  is 
 no  more  bound  to  give  an  account  of  itself 
 to  science,  /.  e.  we  are  no  more  called  upon 
 to  explain  it  before  we  believe  it  than  we 
 are  to  explain  any  other  of  the  simple  data 
 of  consciousness.  A.  A.  Rodge. 
 
 IDENTITY— Essentials  to. 
 
 It  is  evident  that  identity  depends  upon 
 diil'erent  conditions  in  diflierent  cases. 
 The  identity  of  a  stone  or  any  other  por- 
 tion of  unorganized  matter  consists  in  its 
 substance  and  form.  On  the  other  hand, 
 the  identity  of  a  plant,  from  the  seed  to 
 its  maturity,  is  in  a  great  measure  inde- 
 pendent of  sameness  of  substance,  or  of 
 form.  Their  identity  appears  to  consist 
 in  each  plant's  being  one  organized  whole 
 
 and  in  the  continuity  of  the  succession  of 
 its  elements  and  parts.  The  identity  of  a 
 picture  does  not  depend  upon  the  same- 
 ness of  the  particles  of  colouring  matter  of 
 which  it  is  composed,  for  these  we  may 
 conceive  to  be  continually  changing,  but 
 upon  the  drawing,  the  tints,  the  light  and 
 shade,  the  expression,  the  idea  which  it 
 embodies,  &c.  Ibid. 
 
 IDLENESS— Danger  of. 
 
 Rather  do  what  is  nothing  to  the  pur- 
 pose, than  be  idle;  that  the  devil  may  find 
 thee  doing.  The  bird  that  sits  is  easily 
 shot,  when  fliers  scape  the  fowler.  Idle- 
 ness is  the  dead  sea  that  swallows  all  the 
 virtues,  and  the  self-made  sepulchre  of  a 
 living  man.  Quarles. 
 
 IDLENESS— Extreme. 
 
 A  favorite  illustration  among  the  Arabs 
 of  extreme  idleness  is  the  man  that  would 
 not  turn  his  head  over  on  his  pillow, 
 though  the  muddy  water  leaking  through 
 the  roof  fell  plump  into  his  eye. 
 
 Dr.  Thomson. 
 IDLENESS— Inaction  of. 
 
 Idleness  is  the  grand  pacific  ocean  of 
 life,  and  in  that  stagnant  abyss,  the  most 
 salutary  things  produce  no  good,  the  most 
 noxious  no  evil.  Vice,  indeed,  abstractedlj- 
 considered,  may  be,  and  often  is,  engen- 
 dered in  idleness,  but  the  moment  it  be- 
 comes efficiently  vice,  it  must  quit  its 
 cradle  and  cease  to  be  idle.  C.  Colton. 
 
 IDLENESS— Laborious. 
 
 There  is  such  a  thing  as  laborious  idle- 
 ness.  Busy  ?  So  was  the  Shepherd  on 
 the  Alps,  mentioned  by  Dugald  Stewart, 
 who  spent  fifteen  years  of  lite  learning  to 
 balance  a  pole  on  his  chin ;  and  the  philo- 
 sopher sagely  remarks  how  much  good, 
 had  they  been  directed  to  a  noble  object, 
 this  diligence  and  perseverence  would  have 
 accomplished.  Busy  ?  So  have  I  seen  the 
 miller's  wheel,  which  went  round  and 
 round ;  but  idly,  grinding  no  corn.  Busy  ? 
 So,  in  a  way,  was  the  Russian  who,  facing 
 the  winter's  cold  nor  regarding  the  cost 
 of  massive  slabs  brought  at  great  labour 
 from  frozen  lake  or  river,  built  him  an  icy 
 palace,  within  whose  glittering  translucent 
 walls,  wrapt  in  furs  and  shining  in  jewels, 
 rank  and  beauty  held  their  revelry,  and 
 the  bowl  and  the  laugh  and  the  song  went 
 round.  But  with  soft  breath,  and  other 
 music,  and  opening  buds,  spring  returned; 
 and  then,  before  the  eyes  that  had  gazed 
 with  wonder  on  the  crystal  walls  of  that 
 fairy  palace  as  they  gleamed  by  night  with 
 a  thousand  lights,  or  flashed  with  the 
 radiance  of  gems  in  the  bright  sunshine, 
 it  dissolved,  nor  left  "  a  rack  behind" — its 
 pleasures,  "  vanity ;"    its   expense,  "  vex- 
 
IDLENESS— IDOLATRY. 
 
 467 
 
 ation  of  spirit."  Busy  ?  So,  in  a  way, 
 are  the  children  who,  when  the  tide  is  at 
 the  ebb,  with  merry  laughter  and  rosy 
 cheeks  and  nimble  hands  build  a  castle 
 of  the  moist  sea-sand — the  thoughtless 
 urchins,  types  of  lovers  of  pleasure  and  of 
 the  world,  so  intent  on  their  work  as  not 
 to  see  how  the  treacherous,  silent  tide 
 has  cript  around  them,  not  merely  to  sap 
 and  undermine,  and  with  one  rude  blow  of 
 her  billow  demolish  the  work  of  their 
 hands,  but  to  cut  off  their  retreat  to  the 
 distant  shore,  and  drown  their  frantic 
 screams  and  cries  for  help  in  the  roar  of  its 
 remorseless  waves.  From  a  death-bed 
 where  all  he  toiled  and  sinned  and  sor- 
 rowed for  is  slipping  from  his  grasp,  fading 
 from  his  view,  such  will  his  life  seem  to 
 the  busiest  worldling;  he  spends  his 
 strength  for  nought,  and  his  labour  for 
 that  which  profiteth  not.  With  an  eye 
 that  pities  because  it  foresees  our  miserable 
 doom,  God  calls  us  from  such  busy  trifling, 
 from  a  life  of  laborious  idleness,  to  a  ser- 
 vice which  is  as  pleasant  as  it  is  profitable, 
 as  graceful  as  it  is  dutiful,  saying — Work 
 out  your  salvation — Work  while  it  is  called 
 to-day,  seeing  that  the  night  cometh  when 
 no  man  can  work.  Dr.  Quthrie. 
 
 IDLENESS— Mischiefs  of. 
 
 Idleness  is  the  mother  of  unquietness, 
 disorder,  and  curiosity ;  sacrilegious  in  re- 
 ligion, dangerous  in  science,  damnable  as 
 to  future  things,  seditious  in  affairs  of  state, 
 contrary  to  the  quiet  of  families,  and 
 shameful  and  infamous  to  tViose  who  are 
 possessed  with  it.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 IDLENESS— Punished. 
 
 Idleness  was  a  criminal  offence  at  Athens, 
 and  should  be  so  regai'ded  everywhere, 
 since  "  drones  suck  not  eagle's  blood,  but 
 rob  bee-hives."  Plutarch,  in  his  life  of 
 Lycurgus,  tells  us  of  a  classic  "  loafer " 
 who  was  one  day  fined  for  this  offence,  and 
 who  was  greatly  condoled  by  a  brother  idler 
 as  having  been  condemned  for  keeping  up 
 his  dignity.  E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 IDOLATRY— in  Ancient  Britain. 
 
 British  Christians  ought  to  recollect  that 
 thyir  ancestors  were  once  blind  idolaters, 
 serving  them  that  by  nature  are  no  gods. 
 Dr.  Plaifere,  in  a  sermon  preached  before 
 the  University  of  Cambridge,  in  1573,  re- 
 marks, that,  before  the  preaching  of  the 
 Gospel  of  Christ,  no  church  here  existed, 
 but  the  temple  of  an  idol ;  no  priesthood 
 but  that  of  paganism;  no  God  but  the 
 sun,  the  moon,  or  some  hideous  image.  To 
 the  cruel  rites  of  the  Druidical  worship, 
 succeeded  the  abominations  of  the  Roman 
 idolatry.  In  Scotland  stood  the  temple  of 
 Mars  ;  in  Cornwall,  the  temple  of  ^Mercury ; 
 in   Bangor,   the   temple   of  Minerva;    at 
 
 Maiden,  the  temple  of  Victoria ;  in  Bath, 
 the  temple  of  Apollo;  at  Leicester,  the 
 temple  of  Janus;  at  York,  where  St. 
 Peter's  now  stands,  the  temple  of  Bellona; 
 in  London,  on  the  site  of  St.  Paul's 
 Cathedral,  the  temple  of  Diana ;  and  at 
 Westminster,  where  the  Abbey  rears  its 
 venerable  pile,  a  temple  of  Apollo. 
 
 Dr.  Smith. 
 
 IDOLATRY— Degradation  of. 
 
 Idolatry  !  you  caimot  find  any  more  gross, 
 any  more  cruel,  on  the  broad  earth,  than 
 within  the  area  of  a  mile  around  this 
 pulpit  [in  New  York].  Dark  minds  from 
 which  God  is  obscured;  deluded  souls, 
 whose  fetish  is  the  dice-box  or  the  bottle ; 
 apathetic  spirits,  steeped  in  sensual  abomi- 
 nation, unmoved  by  a  moral  ripple,  soak- 
 ing in  the  swamp  of  animal  vitality.  False 
 gods,  more  hideous,  more  awful  than 
 Moloch  or  Baal ;  worshipped  with  shrieks, 
 worshipped  with  curses,  with  the  hearth- 
 stone for  the  bloody  altar,  and  the  drunken 
 husband  for  the  immolating  priest,  and 
 women  and  children  for  the  victims. 
 
 Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 IDOLATRY— Destruction  of. 
 
 What,  Dagon  up  again !  I  thought  we  had 
 
 hurled  him 
 Down   on   the   threshold,  never   more  to 
 
 rise. 
 Bring  wedge  and  axe;  and  neighbours,  lend 
 
 your  hands. 
 And  rive  the  idol  into  winter  fagots. 
 
 Athelstane. 
 
 IDOLATRY— Fleshliness  of. 
 
 When  the  catechist  read  to  them  our 
 Lord's  warning  against  false  prophets,  and 
 said  something  in  explanation,  a  Brahmin, 
 declared  before  all  present,  "  It  is  the  lust 
 of  the  eyes,  and  of  pleasure,  that  prevents 
 us  from  embracing  the  truth."  Many 
 bore  testimony  that  this  was  true.  "  St. 
 Paul,"  remarks  Swartz,  "  enumerates  idol- 
 atry among  the  works  of  the  flesh;  and 
 corrupt  nature  does,  indeed,  derive  sup- 
 port from  it,  in  more  ways  than  one.  If 
 it  were  only  an  error  of  the  understanding, 
 the  greater  number  of  heathens  would 
 already  have  forsaken  it ;  but  being  a 
 work  of  the  flesh,  and  Christianity  requir- 
 ing its  crucifixion,  they  stop  there." 
 
 Fearson, 
 
 IDOLATRY— Porms  of. 
 
 Asia  worships  the  true  God,  but  has 
 false  conceptions  of  Him.  This  is  the  laud 
 of  dreamy  intellect,  of  raoi-bid  sensibilities, 
 of  stationary  civilizations.  We  see  the 
 conception  of  God  variously  modified  in 
 dift'erent  nations,  and  we  mark,  as  we  pass 
 over  them,  a  ripening  of  the  human  mind 
 in  proportion  to  the  approach  to  a  right 
 
IDOLATRY- IDOLS. 
 
 and  perfect  conception  of  the  Almighty. 
 Lowest  in  the  scale,  perhaps,  we  may  place 
 the  Brahmins.  They  acknowledge  a  su- 
 preme God,  Branm,  but  they  put  him  afivr 
 off,  and  ascribe  creation,  preservation,  and 
 destruction  to  inferior  divinities.  As  might 
 be  expected,  they  overthrow  his  altars, 
 neglect  his  temple,  and  leave  him  nothing 
 but  the  name,  while  they  give  their  chief 
 adoration  to  the  God  Vishnu  and  his  nine 
 incarnations,  of  which  Juggernaut  is  one. 
 What  is  their  intellectual  state  ?  Next 
 comes  Buddhism,  which  overspreads  farther 
 India,  the  Chinese  empire,  and  Japan. 
 This  is  a  reformation  of  Brahminism. 
 While  it  recognises  an  eternal  First  Cause, 
 it  represents  him  as  reposing  in  profound 
 slumber,  from  which  he  only  now  and  then 
 awakes  to  send  down  some  perfected  spirits, 
 that  they  may  make  certain  necessary 
 alterations  in  the  universe. 
 
 B;p.  Thomson. 
 
 As  the  several  nations  that  the  king  of 
 Assyria  placed  in  Samaria,  made  idols  of 
 their  own,  and  set  them  up  for  worship ; 
 so  we  may  see  the  dift'erent  classes  of  men 
 in  these  days,  with  their  idols  of  worship 
 — the  ambitious,  the  covetous,  the  pleasure- 
 taker,  the  miser,  the  scientific,  and  others, 
 with  their  respective  idols,  times  and 
 places  of  worship ;  as  earnest  as  any  of  the 
 worshippers  of  the  True  God. 
 
 Jolm  Bate. 
 IDOLATRY— in  the  Heart. 
 
 Travellers  tell  us  that  there  is  a  tribe  in 
 Africa  so  given  to  superstition  that  they 
 fill  their  huts  and  hovels  with  so  many 
 idols  that  they  do  not  even  leave  room  for 
 their  families.  How  many  men  there  are 
 who  fill  their  hearts  with  the  idols  of  sin, 
 so  that  there  is  no  room  for  the  Living 
 God,  or  for  any  of  His  holy  principles  ! 
 
 John  Bate. 
 IDOLATRY— Heathen. 
 
 A  singular  phenomenon,  known  as  the 
 Spectre  of  the  Brocken,  is  seen  on  a  certain 
 mountain  in  Germany.  The  traveller  who 
 at  dawn  stands  on  the  topmost  ridge,  be- 
 holds a  colossal  shadowy  spectre  moving 
 on  the  summits  of  the  distant  hills.  But, 
 in  fact,  it  is  only  his  own  shadow  pro- 
 jected upon  the  morning  mists  by  the 
 rising  run,  and  it  imitates,  of  course,  every 
 movement  of  its  creator.  So  heathen 
 nations  have  mistaken  their  own  image 
 for  Deity.  Tlieir  gods  display  human 
 frailties  and  passions  and  scanty  virtues, 
 projected  and  magnified  upon  the  heavens, 
 just  as  the  small  figures  on  the  slide  of  a 
 magic  lantern  are  projected,  magnified  and 
 illuminated,  upon  a  white  sheet.        Anon. 
 
 IDOLATRY— Patronising. 
 
 It  is  hunentable  to  think  how  long  after 
 
 our  power  was  firmly  established  in  Bengal, 
 we,  grossly  neglecting  the  first  and  plainest 
 duty  of  the  civil  magistrate,  suft'ered  the 
 practices  of  infanticide  and  suttee  to  con- 
 tinue unchecked.  We  decorated  the  tem- 
 ples of  the  false  gods.  We  provided  the 
 dancing  girls.  We  gilded  and  painted  the 
 images  to  which  our  ignorant  subjects 
 bowed  down.  We  repaired  and  embellished 
 the  car  under  the  wheels  of  which  crazy 
 devotees  flung  themselves  at  every  festival 
 to  be  crushed  to  death.  We  sent  guards 
 of  honour  to  escort  pilgrims  to  the  places 
 of  worship.  We  actually  made  oblations 
 at  the  shrines  of  idols.  AH  this  was  con- 
 sidered, and  is  still  considered,  by  some 
 prejudiced  Anglo-Indians  of  the  old  school, 
 as  profound  policy.  I  believe  that  there 
 never  was  so  shallow,  so  senseless  a  policy. 
 We  gained  nolhing  by  it.  We  lowered 
 ourselves  in  the  eyes  of  those  whom  we 
 meant  to  flatter.  We  led  them  to  believe 
 that  we  attached  no  importance  to  the  dif- 
 ference between  Christianity  and  heathen- 
 ism. Yet  how  vast  that  diff"erence  is !  I 
 altogether  abstain  from  alluding  to  topics 
 which  belong  to  divines ;  I  speak  merely 
 as  a  politician,  anxious  for  the  morality 
 and  the  temporal  well-being  of  society  j 
 and  so  speaking,  I  say  that  to  countenance 
 the  Brahminical  idolatry,  and  to  discounte- 
 nance that  religion  which  has  done  so 
 much  to  promote  justice,  and  mercy,  and 
 freedom,  and  arts,  and  sciences,  and  good 
 government,  and  domestic  happiness,  which 
 has  struck  oft'  the  chains  of  the  slave,  which 
 has  mitigated  the  horrors  of  war,  which 
 has  raised  women  from  servants  and  play- 
 things into  companions  and  friends,  is  to 
 commit  high  treason  against  humanity 
 and  civilisation.  Lord  Macaiday. 
 
 IDOLATRY— Power  of. 
 
 Idolatry  is  one  of  the  most  unconquer- 
 able of  all  the  corrupt  propensities  of  the 
 human  soul.  Miracles  under  the  new  dis- 
 pensation had  scarcely  ceased,  the  apostolic 
 fathers  were  scarcely  cold  in  their  graves, 
 before  idolatrous  forms  were  again  su})er- 
 induced  upon  the  pure  spirituality  of  the 
 Holy  Gospel.  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 IDOLS— Destruction  of. 
 
 Mahmoud,  the  conqueror  of  India, 
 reached  Somnat,  a  temple  of  peculiar  sanc- 
 tity in  Guzerat.  Having  overcome  all  re- 
 sistance, he  entered  the  temple.  Facing 
 the  entrance  was  an  idol  five  yards  high. 
 He  instantly  ordered  it  to  be  destroyed. 
 Tlie  Brahmins  of  the  temple  threw  them- 
 selves down  before  him,  and  offered  him  an 
 enormous  ransom ;  but  Mahmoud,  after  a 
 moment's  pause,  declared  he  would  rather 
 be  remembered  as  the  breaker  than  the 
 seller  of  idols,  and  struck  the  imasre  with 
 his    mace.      His   example   was   tbilowcd; 
 
IDOLS— IGNORANCE. 
 
 4R9 
 
 and  the  image,  which  was  hollow,  burst 
 with  the  blows,  and  poured  forth  a  quantity 
 of  diamonds  and  other  jewels,  far  more 
 than  the  proflered  ransom. 
 
 Thou  too,  heaven's  coramission'd  warrior 
 
 To  cast  down  each  idol  throne 
 
 In  thy  heart's  profaned  temple, 
 
 Make' this  faithful  deed  thy  own. 
 
 Still  they  plead,  and  still  they  promise. 
 
 Wilt  thou  suffer  them  to  stand  ? 
 
 They  have  pleasures,  gifts,  and  treasures, 
 
 To  enrich  thee  at  command. 
 
 Heed  them  not,  but  boldly  strike  them. 
 
 Let  descend  the  faithful  blow ; 
 
 From  their  wreck  and  from  their  ruin, 
 
 First  will  thy  true  riches  flow. 
 
 Thou  shalt  lose  thy  life  and  find  it ; 
 
 Thou  shalt  boldly  cast  it  forth. 
 
 And  then  back  again  receiving. 
 
 Know  it  in  its  endless  worth. 
 
 Archhisliop  Trench. 
 IDOLS— Use  of. 
 
 When  the  English  army  had  taken  the 
 city  of  Rangoon,  the  capital  of  Burmah, 
 Havelock,  who  was  then  a  lieutenant, 
 sought  out,  as  was  his  custom,  a  place  lor 
 a  prayer  meeting.  He  secured  a  chamber 
 in  a  temi)le,  devoted  to  Boodh,  with  idols, 
 sitting  all  around,  their  legs  crossed  and 
 arms  folded  upon  their  laps.  He  caused  a 
 lamp  to  be  put  in  the  hands  of  each  idol, 
 to  illumine  the  place  while  he  and  his 
 company  read  the  Scriptures  and  prayed 
 together. 
 
 All  idols,  whether  in  heathendom  or 
 Christendom,  would  be  in  their  proper 
 place,  if  tliey  were  only  used  as  creatures 
 to  hold  light  to  guide  us  to  the  true  God 
 and  Saviour.  John  Bate. 
 
 IDOLS— Weakness  of. 
 
 A  little  boy  who  lived  in  the  house  of  a 
 heathen  said  to  him  one  day :  "  There  is 
 but  one  God — the  one  who  made  the  earth, 
 and  the  sky,  and  everything.  It  is  He 
 who  gives  us  the  rain  and  the  sunshine, 
 and  He  knows  what  we  do  and  what  we 
 leave  undone.  He  hears  us  when  we  pray, 
 and  He,  the  Eternal  One,  will  punish  us  if 
 we  do  wrong,  and  reward  us  if  we  do  right. 
 He  can  save  us  or  He  can  destroy  us.  But 
 these  images  that  you  pray  to  ai-e  only 
 lumps  of  baked  clay.  Tliey  can't  see  or 
 hear;  how,  then,  can  they  do  you  any 
 good  or  save  you  from  any  trouble  ?  You 
 ought  to  talk  to  God's  messenger  about 
 that."     He  meant  the  Missionary. 
 
 The  heathen  paid  no  heed  to  him,  but 
 soon  afterwards  went  on  a  little  journey. 
 While  he  was  gone,  the  boy  took  a  stick 
 and  broke  all  the  images  except  the  largest, 
 into  the  hands  of  which  he  put  the  slick. 
 When  the  man  returned,  he  was  furious  to 
 see  what  had  happened,  and  exclaimed: 
 "  Who  has  done  this  V 
 
 "  Perhaps,"  said  the  little  boy,  "  the  big 
 idol  has  been  beating  his  little  brothers." 
 
 "  Nonsense,"  said  the  man.  "  Don't  talk 
 such  stuff  as  that !  Do  you  think  I'm  a 
 fool  ?  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  the 
 thing  cannot  even  raise  its  hand.  It  was 
 you,  you  little  rascal !  It  was  you  !  And  to 
 pay  you  for  your  labour  of  wickedness,  I'll 
 beat  you  to  death  with  the  same  stick." 
 And  seizing  the  stick,  he  approached  him. 
 
 "But,"  said  the  boy  gently,  "how  can 
 you  trust  to  a  god  so  weak  that  a  child's 
 hand  can  destroy  him  ?  Do  you  suppose 
 that,  if  he  can't  take  care  of  himself  or  his 
 companions,  he  can  of  you  and  the  world, 
 let  alone  making  you  ?" 
 
 The  heathen  stopped  to  think,  for  it  was 
 
 a  new  idea.     Then  he  broke  his  great  idol, 
 
 and  went  and  kneeled  down  to  pray  to  the 
 
 true  God,  and  called  Him  "  My  Father." 
 
 Schmidt. 
 
 Dagon  could  not  stand  before  the  ark  of 
 the  covenant;  no  more  can  idols  before 
 the  power  of  Christianity.  Johi  Bate. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Characteristics  of. 
 The  truest  characters  of  ignorance 
 Are  vanity,  and  pride,  and  arrogance; 
 As  blind   men  use    to    bear  their   noses 
 
 higher 
 Than  those  who  have  their  eyes  and  sight 
 entire.  Butler. 
 
 IGNORANCE— of  Christ. 
 
 During  my  pastoral  calls  in  a  certain 
 place  in  England,  I  visited  a  poor  woman 
 in  dying  circumstances.  From  her  appear- 
 ance I  at  once  perceived  that  blindness 
 covered  her  mind;  but  I  could  not  have 
 imagined  her  to  be  so  ignorant  as  she 
 really  was.  She  could  scarcely  answer  a 
 single  cjuestion.  I  asked  her  if  she  loved 
 Christ?  "No."  If  she  knew  Christ? 
 "  No."  If  she  had  ever  heard  of  Christ  ? 
 "  No."  If  she  had  ever  been  to  the  house 
 of  Gud  ?  "  No."  What  a  lamentable  case 
 of  ignorance  for  England,  in  the  nineteenth 
 century !  Is  this  a  solitary  case,  or  one 
 only,  which  represent  hundreds,  if  not 
 thousands  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Dangers  of. 
 
 A  person  once  passing  through  a  park, 
 saw  nailed  to  one  of  the  trees,  "  All  dogs 
 found  in  this  park  will  be  shot."  A  friend, 
 who  was  with  him,  said,  "  Unless  dogs  can 
 read,  they  are  pretty  badly  off  here."  But 
 a  man  in  the  present  state  of  society,  with- 
 out knowledge,  is  worse  off  than  the  dog 
 in  the  park.  He  has,  indeed,  a  master  to 
 read  for  him ;  but  many  of  our  fellow-men 
 have  left  the  state  of  nature  in  which  they 
 dwelt  near  to  the  first  instincts  of  life,  and 
 they  have  not  attained  to  the  intellectual 
 life  which  is  bsyond  those  provisions. 
 
 E.  F.  Mood. 
 
470 
 
 IGNORANCE. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Dangers  of. 
 
 Ignorance  is  a  dangerous  and  spiritual 
 
 poison,  which  all  men  ought  warily  to  shun. 
 
 Gregory. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Depraved. 
 
 But  there  is  another  sort  of  ignorance' 
 which  is  not  an  ignorance  of  an  empty 
 understanding,  but  of  a  depraved  heart  ; 
 such  an  ignorance  as  does  not  only  consist 
 in  a  bare  privation,  but  in  a  corrupt  dis- 
 position ;  where  the  understanding  is  like 
 that  sort  of  blind  serpents,  whose  blind- 
 ness is  attended  with  much  venom  and 
 malignity.  This  was  such  a  blindness  as 
 struck  the  Sodomities  :  there  was  darkness 
 in  their  eyes,  and  withal  villany  in  their 
 hearts.  Br.  South. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Destructiveness  of. 
 
 That  ignorance  is  destructive  of  virtue, 
 is  proved  by  facts  as  well  as  arguments. 
 Search  the  records  of  heathenism,  and  let 
 them  testify,  that  when  men  "  did  not  like 
 to  reUiiu  God  in  their  knowledge,  He  gave 
 Them  over  to  a  reprobate  mind.  They 
 were  filled  with  all  unrighteousness,  forni- 
 cation, wickedness,  covetousness,  malicious- 
 ness; full  of  envy,  murder,  debate,  deceit, 
 malignity."  Search  the  records  even  of 
 the  Christian  church ;  let  them  testify 
 that  when  the  simple  worship  and  the  noble 
 doctrines  of  Christ  were  corrupted  by  the 
 superstitions  of  Jews  and  Pagans;  when 
 truth,  clear  as  the  day  and  luminous  as  a 
 sunbeam,  was  exchanged  for  mummery 
 and  mystery,  holy  absurdities  and  sanctified 
 nonsense ;  when  the  mind  was  narrowed  up 
 by  human  creeds,  and  its  exercises  re- 
 stramed  by  legal  penalties ;  when  bishops 
 could  not  write,  and  priests  scarcely  read — 
 then  the  light  which  God  had  once  kindled 
 up  in  His  Church  was  extinguished;  a 
 darkness  which  might  be  felt  spread  over 
 the  whole  body;  and  with  the  destruction 
 of  knowledge  came  also  the  destruction  of 
 virtue.  Piety  was  displaced  by  superstition  ; 
 bigotry  and  furious  zeal  were  erected  on 
 the  ruins  of  meekness  and  charity ;  pas- 
 sions, fierce  as  hell,  and  insatiable  as  the 
 grave,  were  kindled  up  in  the  human 
 breast;  and  priests  and  people  wallowed 
 in  the  sink  of  the  grossest  cori-uption. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Evils  of. 
 
 That  sovereign  and  universal  Truth 
 which  illuminates  intellectual  nature,  as 
 the  sun  enlightens  the  material  world. 
 He  who  has  never  received  this  pure 
 emanation  of  Divinity  is  as  blind  as  those 
 who  are  born  without  sight;  he  passes 
 through  life  in  darkness,  like  that  which 
 involves  the  polar  regions,  where  the  night 
 is  protracted  to  half  the  year ;   he  believes 
 
 himself  to  be  wise,  but  is  indeed  a  fool ; 
 he  imagines  that  his  eye  comprehends 
 every  object,  yet  he  lives  and  dies  without 
 seeing  anything ;  or,  at  most,  he  perceives 
 only  some  fleeting  illusions  by  a  glimmer- 
 ing and  deceitful  light ;  some  unsubstan- 
 tial vapours,  that  are  every  moment  chang- 
 ing their  colour  and  shape,  and  at  length 
 fade  into  total  obscurity.  Fenelon. 
 
 When  the  Duchess  of  Modena  was  com- 
 plained to  that  her  son  had  too  many 
 branches  to  learn  at  one  time,  and  that 
 his  health  was  suffering  from  the  excessive 
 labour,  she  calmly  replied,  "  It  were  better 
 for  me  to  have  no  son  than  to  have  an 
 ignorant  son."  J.  Sutchinson. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Guilty. 
 
 There  is  also  an  affected  ignorance,  such 
 a  one  as  is  contracted  by  a  wilful  neglect 
 of  the  means ;  and  this  is  not  excusing  but 
 condemning.  ...  In  the  midst  of  light  to 
 be  in  darkness ;  for  an  Israel  to  have  an 
 Egypt  in  a  Goshen  ;  this  is  highly  pro- 
 voking, and  may  justly  cause  God  to  lay 
 hold  on  vengeance.  Dr.  South. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Innocent." 
 
 Is  any  father  so  cruel,  or  hard-hearted. 
 
 as  to  disown  and  cast  off  his  son, 
 he  is  a  fool  ?  No  ;  an  innocent  ignorance 
 excuses  from  sin,  both  before  God  and 
 man ;  and  God  Himself  will  own  that 
 maxim  of  equity,  "  Ignorantia  excusat  pec- 
 catum."  Dr.  South. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Kinds  of. 
 
 Ignorance  may  be  distinguished  into  five 
 kinds ;  human,  natural,  aftected,  invincible, 
 proud,  and  puffed  up.  1.  Human — This 
 is  not  sinful,  as  in  Adam  not  to  know  his 
 nakedness  nor  Satan's  subtlety  ;  as  in  the 
 angels,  and  even  Christ,  as  man,  not  to 
 know  the  latter  day.  2.  Natural. — The 
 ignorance  of  infirmity,  incident  to  man's 
 nature  since  the  fall.  3.  Affected  ignorance. 
 (See  John  iii,  19.) — These  shut  their  ears 
 when  God  calleth ;  and,  being  housed  in 
 their  security,  will  not  step  to  the  door  to 
 see  if  the  sun  shines.  This  ignorance,  if  I 
 may  say  so,  doth  reside  rather  in  their 
 afiection  than  understanding  part.  4.  In- 
 rincible  ignorance. — When  God  hath  natu- 
 rally darkened  the  understanding  by  a  sore 
 punishment  of  original  sin.  5.  A  jn-oicd 
 ignorance. — VV  hereof  there  is  no  hope,  saith 
 Solomon  (Prov.  xxvii,  1).  The  other  is 
 invincible,  indeed  this  more  invincible ;  a 
 fool  is  sooner  taught.  T.  Adams, 
 
 IGNORANCE— Natural. 
 
 We  read  of  an  ancient  king,  who  being 
 desirous  to  know  what  was  the  natural 
 language  of  men;  in  order  to  bring  the 
 matter  to  a  certain  issue,  made  the  follow- 
 ing experiment : — He  ordered  two  infants, 
 
IGNORANCE— IMAGIiTATIO* 
 
 471 
 
 as  soon  as  tliej'  were  born,  to  be  conveyed 
 to  a  place  prepared  for  them,  where  they 
 were  bronght  up  without  any  instruction 
 at  all,  And  without  ever  hearing  a  human 
 voice.  And  what  was  the  event  ?  Why, 
 that  when  they  were  at  length  brought 
 out  of  their  confinement,  they  spake  no 
 language  at  all,  they  uttered  only  inarticu- 
 late sounds  like  those  of  other  animals. 
 Were  two  infants  in  like  maimer  to  be 
 brought  up  from  the  womb  without  being 
 instructed  in  any  religion,  there  is  little 
 room  to  doubt  but  (unless  the  grace  of 
 God  interposed)  the  event  would  be  just 
 the  same.  They  would  have  no  religion 
 at  all :  they  would  have  no  more  know- 
 ledge of  God  than  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
 than  the  wild  ass's  colt.  Such  is  natural 
 religion!  abstracted  from  traditional,  and 
 fi-om  the  influences  of  God's  spirit. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 IGNOEANCE— of  Prayer. 
 
 I  have  been  informed  that  Robert  Hall 
 OTice  visited  a  poor  man  in  his  sickness, 
 and  during  his  conversation  with  him,  the 
 man  every  now  and  then  knocked  with  a 
 stick  the  board  at  the  head  of  the  bed. 
 Mr.  Hall,  rather  annoyed  by  this  inter- 
 ruption, asked  his  reason  for  such  strange 
 conduct.  The  man  replied  that  the  Bible 
 commanded  him  to  knock,  and  it  should 
 be  opened  unto  him,  John  Bate. 
 
 IGNORANCE— Pride  of. 
 
 By  ignorance  is  pride  increas'd  ; 
 
 Tho^e  most  assume  who  know  the  least: 
 
 Their  own  self-balance  gives  them  weight. 
 
 But  euery  other  finds  them  light.        Gay. 
 
 IGNOEANCE— of  Eeligion. 
 
 It's  ignorance  of  the  price  of  pearls  that 
 makes  the  idiot  slight  them.  It's  ignorance 
 of  the  worth  of  diamonds  that  makes  the 
 fool  choose  a  pebble  before  them.  It's  ig- 
 norance of  the  satisfaction  learning  affords 
 that  makes  the  peasant  despise  and  laugh 
 at  it ;  and  we  very  ordinarily  see  how  men 
 tread  and  trample  on  those  plants  which 
 are  the  greatest  restoratives,  because  they 
 know  not  the  virtue  of  them  ;  and  the  same 
 may  justly  be  affirmed  of  religion,  the  rea- 
 son why  men  meddle  no  nn)re  with  it  is — 
 because  they  are  not  acquainted  with  the 
 pleasantness  of  it.  Anthony  Horneck. 
 
 IGNOEANCE— Reproving. 
 
 A  number  of  monkeys  that  lived  in  a 
 mountain,  sought  on  a  cold,  windy,  and 
 rainy  night  for  a  fire  to  warm  themselves ; 
 at  last  they  saw  a  glow-worm,  and  think- 
 ing it  was  a  spark  of  fire,  they  gathered 
 some  wood  and  threw  it  upon  it ;  not  far 
 olf  there  was  a  bird  upon  a  tree,  which, 
 observing  what  they  were  doing,  cried  out 
 to  them  and  endeavoured  to  convince  them 
 
 of  their  error.  This  scene  attracted  the 
 attention  of  a  man  who  was  passing  by, 
 who  told  the  bird  that  it  was  wasting  both 
 time  and  patience,  and  that  no  one  thought 
 of  proving  a  sword  upon  a  stubborn,  im- 
 penetrable stone,  or  of  making  a  bow  out 
 of  a  piece  of  wood  that  would  not  bend. 
 The  bird,  however,  without  attending  to 
 him,  flew  down  to  them  to  prove  to  them 
 that  the  glow-worm  was  not  fire,  but  in 
 recompense  for  his  pains  was  seized  by 
 one  of  them,  dashed  upon  the  ground  and 
 killed.  G.  W.  Hervey. 
 
 ILLNESS— Christian  in. 
 
 An  able  physician  once  said  that,  in  a 
 dangerous  illness,  a  Christian  would  have 
 a  better  chance  of  recovery  than  an  un- 
 believer ;  that  religious  resignation  was  a 
 better  soothing  medicine  than  poppy,  and 
 a  better  cordial  than  ether.  An  habitual 
 horror  of  death  overshadows  the  mind, 
 darkening  the  little  daylight  of  life ;  and 
 indulgence  in  a  morbid  excess  of  appre- 
 hension, not  only  embitters  a  man's  exist- 
 ence, but  often  shortens  its  duration.  He 
 hastens  the  advance  of  death,  by  the  fear 
 with  which  his  frame  is  seized,  at  its  real 
 or  imaginary  approach.  His  trembling 
 hand  involuntorily  shakes  the  glass  in 
 which  his  hours  are  numbered.     Dr.  Held. 
 
 ILLNESS— Effects  of. 
 
 When  a  man  is  labouring  under  the  pain 
 of  any  distemper  it  is  then  that  he  recol- 
 lects there  is  a  God,  and  that  he  himself  is 
 but  a  man ;  no  mortal  is  then  the  object  of 
 his  envy,  his  admiration,  or  his  contempt, 
 and,  having  no  malice  to  gratify,  the  tales 
 of  slander  excite  not  his  attention.  Pliny, 
 ILLUSION— Bliss  of. 
 
 Some  there  be  that  shadows  kiss ; 
 Such  have  but  a  shadow's  bliss. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 IMAGINATION— Definition  of. 
 
 Imagination  is  that  faculty  by  which, 
 from  materials  already  existing  in  the 
 mind,  we  form  complicated  conceptions 
 or  mental  images,  according  to  our  own 
 will.  Wayland. 
 
 IMAGINATION— Description  of  the. 
 
 Imagination  is  the  organ  through  which 
 the  soul  within  us  recognises  a  soul  with- 
 out us  ;  the  spiritual  eye  by  which  the 
 mind  perceives  and  converses  with  the 
 spiritualities  of  nature  under  her  material 
 forms ;  which  tends  to  exalt  even  the 
 senses  into  soul  by  discerning  a  soul  in 
 the  objects  of  sense ;  and  which 
 
 "  Turns  the  common  dust 
 Of  servile  opportunity  to  gold; 
 Filling  the  mind  with  sentiments  august. 
 The  beautiful,  the  brave,  the  holy,  and  the 
 just."  M.  N.  Hudson 
 
472 
 
 IMAGINATION— IMITATION  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 IMAGINATION— Pleasures  of  the. 
 
 A  pure  imagination  is  a  rich,  invaluable 
 boon.  Its  pleasui'es  are  boundless.  It  ex- 
 ceeds the  power  of  the  magician.  It  can 
 give  to  every  blade  of  grass,  to  every  leaf, 
 and  to  every  flower,  an  intelligible  voice, 
 that  shall  speak  to  me  of  great  and  pro- 
 fitable truths.  Under  lits  magic  wand  the 
 inanimate  lives,  spaoe  is  peopled  with 
 beauteous  scenes,  the  solitudes  become 
 vocal,  the  wilderness  -smiles,  all  nature 
 becomes  eloquent  with  truth,  and  all  the 
 sounds  of  nature,  above  and  aroxind  us, 
 become  sweeter  than  iEolian  harp. 
 
 £.  Eoberts. 
 
 IMAGINATION— Power  of  the. 
 
 By  the  aid  of  the  imagination  you  may 
 decipher  God's  image  in  the  works  of 
 creation,  and  syllable  forth  His  name  on 
 suns  and  systems,  and  through  nature 
 look  to  nature's  God.  By  the  imagination 
 you  may  hear  the  voice  of  the  Great 
 Father  speaking  to  you  in  the  melody  of 
 the  grove,  in  the  roaring  thunder,  in  the 
 wild  winds,  and  in  the  booming  sea.  By 
 the  imagination  you  may  see  the  impress 
 of  His  paternal  hand  in  the  vernal  bloom, 
 in  the  painted  flower,  and  in  the  lighted 
 star.  By  the  aid  of  the  imagination  you 
 may  behold  your  paternal  God  opening 
 the  eyelids  of  the  morning,  and  pouring 
 on  you  refreshing  light  to  gladden  the 
 heart;  and  then  again,  after  the  toils  of 
 the  day,  gently  drawing  around  .you,  with 
 more  than  a  mother's  tenderness,  the 
 evening  curtain  to  aflbrd  weary  jiature  a 
 season  of  repose.  Ibid. 
 
 IMAGINATION-  Strong. 
 Such  tricks  hath  strong  imagination. 
 That,  if  he  would  but  apprehend  some  joy. 
 It  comprehends  some  bringer  of  that  joy ; 
 Or,  in  the  night,  imagining  some  fear, 
 How  easy  is  a  bush  supposed  a  hear  ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 IMAGINATION— and  Thought. 
 Imagination    is    not    thought,    neither   is 
 
 fancy  reflection ; 
 Thought   paceth   like   a   hoary   sage,  but 
 
 imagination  hath  wings  as  an  eagle. 
 
 Tujjper. 
 
 IMAGINATION— Use  of  the. 
 
 The  faculty  of  imagination  is  the  great 
 spring  of  human  activity,  and  the  principal 
 source  of  human  improvement.  As  it  de- 
 lights in  presenting  to  the  mind  scenes  and 
 chara(;ters  more  perfect  than  those  which 
 we  are  acqiiainted  with,  it  prevents  us 
 from  ever  being  completely  satisfied  with 
 our  present  condition,  or  with  our  past 
 attainments ;  and  engages  us  continually  in 
 the  pursuit  of  some  untried  enjoyment,  or 
 
 of  some  ideal  excellence.  Hence  the  ardour 
 of  the  selfish  to  better  their  fortunes,  and 
 to  add  to  their  personal  accomplishments ; 
 and  hence  the  zeal  of  the  patriot  and  the 
 philosopher  to  advance  the  virtue  and  the 
 happiness  of  the  human  race.  Destroy  this 
 faculty,  and  the  condition  of  man  will  be- 
 come as  stationary  as  that  of  the  brutes. 
 
 Dug  aid  Stewart. 
 
 IMITATION  OF  CHRIST 
 
 It  is  reported  in  the  Bohemian  story, 
 that  St.  Wenceslaus,  their  king,  one  winter 
 night  going  to  his  devotions  in  a  remote 
 church,  barefooted  in  the  snow  and  sharp- 
 ness of  unequal  and  pointed  ice,  his  servant, 
 Podavivus,  who  waited  upon  his  master's 
 piety,  and  endeavoured  to  imitate  his  affec- 
 tions, began  to  faint  through  the  violence 
 of  the  snow  and  cold,  till  the  king  com- 
 manded him  to  fjllow  him,  and  set  his  feet 
 in  the  same  footste])s,  which  his  feet  should 
 mark  for  him.  The  servant  did  so,  and 
 either  fancied  a  cure  or  found  one,  for  he 
 followed  his  prince,  helped  forward  with 
 shame  and  zeal  to  his  imitation,  and  by 
 the  forming  footsteps  for  him  in  the  snow. 
 In  the  same  manner  does  our  blessed  Jesus ; 
 for,  sincfi  our  way  is  troublesome,  obscure, 
 full  of  objection  and  danger,  apt  to  be  mis- 
 taken, and  to  aflright  our  industry.  He 
 commands  us  to  mark  His  footsteps,  to 
 tread  where  His  feet  have  stood,  and  not 
 only  invites  us  forward  by  the  argument 
 of  His  example,  but  He  hath  trodden  down 
 much  of  the  difficulty,  and  made  the  way 
 easier,  and  fit  for  our  feet.  For  He  knows 
 our  infirmities,  and  Himself  hath  felt  their 
 experience  in  all  things  but  in  the  neigh- 
 bourhood of  sin ;  and,  therefore,  He  hath 
 proportioned  a  way  and  a  path  to  our 
 strengths  and  capacities,  and,  like  Jacob, 
 hath  marched  softly  and  in  evenness  with 
 the  children  and  cattle,  to  entertain  us  by 
 the  comforts  of  His  company,  and  the  in- 
 fluence of  a  perpetual  guide. 
 
 He  that  gives  alms  to  the  poor  takes 
 Jesus  by  the  hand ;  he  that  patiently  en- 
 dures injuries  and  affronts,  helps  him  to 
 bear  His  cross ;  he  that  comforts  his  bro- 
 ther in  affliction  gives  an  amiable  kiss  of 
 peace  to  Jesus ;  he  that  bathes  his  own 
 and  his  neighbour's  sins  in  tears  of  penance 
 and  compassion,  washes  his  Master's  feet. 
 We  lead  Jesus  into  the  recesses  of  our 
 heart  by  holy  meditations;  and  we  enter 
 into  His  heart  when  we  express  Him  in 
 our  actions,  for  so  the  apostle  says,  "  he 
 that  is  in  Christ  walks  as  He  also  walks." 
 But  thus  the  actions  of  our  life  relate  to 
 Him  by  way  of  worship  and  religion  ;  but 
 the  use  is  admirable  and  effectual,  when 
 our  actions  refer  to  Him  as  our  copy,  and 
 we  transcribe  the  original  to  the  life. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
IMITATION  OF  DEFECTS— IMMORTALITY. 
 
 473 
 
 IMITATION  OF  DEFECTS. 
 
 Every  kind  of  imitation  speaks  the  per- 
 son that  imitates  inferior  to  hini  whom  he 
 imitates,  as  the  copy  is  to  the  original ;  bvit 
 then  to  imitate  that  wliicli  is  mean,  base, 
 and  unworthy,  is  to  do  one  of  the  lowest 
 actiems  in  a  yet  lower  instance;  it  is  to 
 climb  downwards,  to  employ  art  and  in- 
 dustry to  learn  a  defect  and  an  imperfec- 
 tion; which  is  a  direct  reproach  to  reason, 
 and  a  contradiction  to  the  methods  of 
 nature. 
 
 Alexander  had  enough  to  imitate  him 
 in  his  drunkenness  and  his  passion,  who 
 never  intended  to  be  like  him  either  in  his 
 chastity,  or  his  justice  to  his  enemies,  and 
 his  liberality  to  his  friends.  And  it  is 
 reported  of  Plato,  that,  being  crooked 
 shouldered,  his  scholars,  who  so  much  ad- 
 mired him,  would  endeavour  to  be  like 
 him,  by  bolstering  out  their  garments  on 
 that  side,  that  so  they  might  appear 
 crooked  too.  It  is  probable  that  many 
 of  these  found  it  easier  to  imitate  Plato's 
 shoulders  than  his  philosophy,  and  to  stuff 
 out  their  gowns  than  to  furnish  their  un- 
 derstandings, or  improve  their  minds. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 IMMORTALITY— Comfort  of, 
 
 I  would  not  slight  this  wondrous  world. 
 I  love  its  day  and  night.  Its  flowers  and 
 its  fruits  are  dear  to  me.  I  would  not  wil- 
 fully lose  sight  of  a  departing  cloud.  Every 
 year  opens  new  beauty  in  a  star — or  in  a 
 purple  gentian  fringed  with  loveliness. 
 The  laws,  too,  of  matter  seem  more  won- 
 derful the  more  I  study  them ;  in  the 
 whirling  eddies  of  tlie  dust,  in  the  curious 
 shells  of  former  life  buried  by  thousands 
 in  a  grain  of  chalk,  or  in  the  shining 
 diagrams  of  light  above  my  head.  Even 
 the  ugly  becomes  beautiful  when  truly 
 seen.  I  see  the  beautiful  in  the  bunchy 
 toad.  The  more  I  live,  the  more  I  love 
 this  little  world;  feel  more  its  author  in 
 each  little  thing;  in  all  that's  great.  But 
 yet  I  feel  my  immortality  the  more.  In 
 childhood  the  consciousness  of  immortal 
 life  buds  forth  feeble  though  full  of  pro- 
 mise. In  the  man  it  unfolds  its  fragrant 
 petals^ — his  most  celestial  flower — to  ma- 
 ture its  seed  throughout  eternity.  The 
 prospect  of  that  everlasting  life,  the  per- 
 fect justice  yet  to  come,  the  infinite  pro- 
 gress before  us,  cheers  and  comforts  the 
 heart.  Sad  and  disappointed,  full  of  self- 
 reproach,  we  shall  not  be  so  for  ever.  The 
 light  of  heaven  breaks  upon  the  night  of 
 trial,  sorrow,  sin  ;  the  sombre  clouds  which 
 ovei-hung  the  east,  grown  purple  now,  tell 
 us  the  dawn  of  heaven  is  coming  in.  Our 
 faces,  gleau)ed  on  by  that,  smile  in  the 
 new-born  glow ;  we  are  beguiled  of  our 
 sadness  before  we  are  aware.  The  cer- 
 tainty of  this  provokes  us  to  patience,  it 
 
 forbids  us  to  be  slothfully  sorrowful.     It 
 calls  us  to  be  up  and  adoing. 
 
 Theodore  FarJcer. 
 
 IMMORTALITY— longings  of. 
 
 There  are  times  when  we  think  little  of 
 a  future  life.  In  a  period  of  success,  serene 
 and  healthy  life,  the  day's  good  is  g'ood 
 enough  for  that  day.  But  there  comes  a 
 time  when  this  day's  good  is  not  enougii, 
 its  ill  too  great  to  bear.  Wlien  death 
 comes  down  and  wrenches  off  a  friend 
 from  our  side — wife,  child,  brother,  father, 
 a  dear  one  is  taken  — this  life  is  not 
 enough.  Oh,  no,  not  to  the  coldest, 
 coarsest,  and  most  sensual  men.  I  put 
 it  to  you,  to  the  most  heartless  of  you  all, 
 or  the  most  cold  and  doubting — when  you 
 lay  down  in  the  earth  your  mother,  sister, 
 wife,  or  child,  remembering  that  you  shall 
 see  their  face  no  more,  is  life  enough  ?.  Do 
 you  not  reach  out  your  arms  for  heaven, 
 for  immortality,  and  feel  you  cannot  die  ? 
 When  I  see  men  at  a  feast,  or  busy  in  the 
 street,  I  do  not  think  of  their  eternal  life; 
 perhaps  feel  not  my  own.  But  when  the 
 stiffened  body  goes  down  to  the  tomb,  sad, 
 silent,  remorseless — I  feel  there  is  no  death 
 for  the  man.  That  clod  which  yonder  dust 
 shall  cover  is  not  my  brother.  The  dust 
 goes  to  its  place,  man  to  his  own.  'Tis 
 then  I  feel  my  immortality.  I  look  through 
 the  grave  into  heaven.  I  ask  no  miracle, 
 no  proof,  no  reasoning  for  me.  I  ask  no 
 risen  dust  to  teach  me  immortality.  I  am 
 conscious  of  eternal  life. 
 
 But  there  are  worse  hours  than  these; 
 seasons  bitterer  than  death — sorrows  tiiat 
 lie  a  latent  poison  in  the  heart,  slowly  sap- 
 ping the  foundations  of  our  peace.  There 
 are  hours  when  the  best  life  seems  a  sheer 
 failure  to  the  man  who  lived  it,  his  wisdom 
 folly,  his  genius  impotence,  his  best  deed 
 poor  and  small;  when  he  wonders  why  he 
 was  suffered  to  be  born  ;  when  all  the 
 sorrows  of  the  world  seem  to  pour  upon 
 him  ;  when  he  stands  in  a  populous  lone- 
 liness, and  though  weak  can  only  lean  upon 
 himself.  In  such  hours  he  feels  the  insuf- 
 ficiency of  this  life.  It  is  only  his  cradle- 
 time  —  he  counts  himself  just  born  ;  all 
 honours,  wealth,  and  fame  are  but  baubles 
 in  his  baby  hand ;  his  deep  philosophy  but 
 nursery  rhymes;  yet  he  feels  the  immortal 
 fire  burning  in  his  heart.  He  stretches  his 
 hands  out  from  the  swaddling  clothes  of 
 flesh,  reaching  after  the  topmost  star, 
 which  he  sees,  or  dreams  he  sees,  and 
 longs  to  go  alone.  Still  worse,  the  con- 
 sciousness of  sin  comes  over  him — he  feels 
 that  he  has  insulted  himself.  All  about 
 him  seems  little;  liimself  little,  yet  clam- 
 bering to  be  great.  Then  we  feel  our 
 immortality ;  through  the  garnish  light  of 
 day  we  see  a  star  or  two  beyond.  The 
 soul  within  us  feels  her  wings  and  wretllos 
 
IMMOETALITY. 
 
 with  the  earthly  worm  that  folds  us  in, 
 contending  to  be  born,  impatient  for  the 
 sky.  Theodore  Parker. 
 
 IMMORTALITY— love  of. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Cleomhrofus,  a  heathen,  that 
 after  reading  the  discourses  of  Plato  upon 
 tlie  immortality  of  the  soul,  he  cast  him- 
 self headlong  from  a  high  rock  and  brake 
 his  neck,  that  he  might  enter  upon  that 
 immortality  which  he  loved,  and  believed 
 would  follow  after  death.  Should  Chris- 
 tians be  afraid  to  die,  and  enter  upon  that 
 glorious  existence  of  immortality  wliicli 
 Christ  has  pi-epared  for  them  ?  If  this 
 heathen  from  an  intense  love  of  the  heathen 
 immortality  could  put  an  end  to  his  life, 
 should  Christians  mourn  to  depart  in  death, 
 when  the  Master  comes  and  calls  for  them  ? 
 Anon. 
 
 IMMORTALITY— Nature  Teaching. 
 
 Our  spiritual,  ethereal  essence  had  its 
 symbol  in  the-heaven-ascending  flame 
 which  the  heathen  carved  upon  their 
 tombs;  and  their  hopes  of  immortality 
 were  expressed,  as  well  by  the  lamp  they 
 lighted  amid  the  gloom  of  the  sepulchre, 
 as  by  the  evergreen  garlands  that  crowned 
 the  monuments  of  their  dead.  This  hope 
 has  been  a  star  that  shone  in  every  sky ;  a 
 flower  that  bloomed  in  the  poorest  soil ;  a 
 flame  that  burned  in  the  coldest  bosom. 
 Immortality  !  that  made  heroes  of  cowards. 
 It  imparted  to  weakness  a  giant's  strength. 
 It  made  the  courage  of  the  bravest  warrior 
 burn  high  in  tlie  day  of  battle.  It  nerves 
 yonder  unbending  savage  to  endure,  with- 
 out a  groan  to  gratify  his  captors  or  dis- 
 grace his  tribe,  the  tortures  of  fire  and 
 stake.  Why  do  these  weeping  Greeks 
 approach  the  dead  man,  as  he  lies  on  his 
 bier  for  burial,  and  open  his  mouth  to  put 
 in  an  obolus  ?  The  coin  is  passage-money 
 for  the  surly  ferryman  who  rows  the 
 ghosts  over  Styx's  stream.  And  why,  in 
 that  forest  grave,  around  Vvhich  plumed 
 and'  painted  warriors  stand  unmoved  and 
 immovable  as  statues,  do  they  bury,  with 
 the  body  of  the  Indian  chief,  his  canoe 
 and  bow,  and  arrows  ?  He  goes  to  follow 
 the  chase,  and  hunt  the  deer  in  the 
 spectre-land  where  the  Great  Spirit  lives, 
 and  the  spirits  of  his  fiithers  have  gone 
 before  him.  How  easy  it  is  to  trace  in 
 these  customs  and  beliefs,  a  sort  of  rude 
 copy  of  the  words,  Life  and  immortality, 
 I  sliall  not  die,  but  live.  Dr.  Quthrie. 
 
 O  listen  man ! 
 A  voice   within   us   speaks   the   startling 
 
 words 
 Man — thou    shalt    never    die !      Celestial 
 
 voices 
 Hymn  it  around  our  souls;  according  harps, 
 
 By  angel  fingers  touched,  when  the  mild 
 
 stars 
 Of  morning  sang  together,  sound  forth  still 
 The  song  of  our  great  immortality. 
 O  listen  ye  our  spirits ;  drink  it  in 
 From  all  the  air !  'tis  in  the  gentle  moon- 
 
 'Tis  floating  in  day's  setting  glories ;  Night 
 Wrapped  in  her  sable  robe,  with  silent  step 
 Comes  to  our  bed  and  breathes  it  in  our 
 
 IMMORTALITY— Self-Evidence  of. 
 
 For  what}  is  our  proof  of  immortality  ? 
 Not  the  analogies  of  nature  altogether; 
 the  resurrection  of  nature  from  a  winter 
 grave,  or  the  emancipation  of  the  butterfly. 
 Not  even  the  testimony  of  the  fact  of 
 risen  dead;  for  who  does  not  know  how 
 shadowy  and  unsubstantial  these  intel- 
 lectual proofs  becouie  in  unspiritual  frames 
 of  mind  ?  No;  the  life  of  the  Spirit  is  the 
 evidence.  Heaven  begun  is  the  living 
 proof  that  makes  the  heaven  to  come  cre- 
 dible. "Christ  in  you  is  the  hope  of 
 glory."  It  is  the  eagle  eye  of  faith  which 
 penetrates  the  grave,  and  sees  far  into  the 
 tranquil  things  of  death.  He  alone  can 
 (properly)  believe  in  immortality  who  feels 
 the  resurrection  in  him  already. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 IMMORTALITY— Testimony  to. 
 
 We  are  told  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
 soul's  immortality  could  only  have  arisen 
 from  the  speculations  of  men  of  genius; 
 and  that  it  was  introduced  by  legislators 
 to  console  mankind  under  oppression,  or 
 deter  them  from  crime  by  motives  drawn 
 from  future  retribution.  If  this  be  so, 
 how  happens  it  that  it  has  found  its  way 
 into  the  deserts,  and  has  been  diffused 
 alike  over  the  South  Sea  Islands  and  those 
 of  the  Pacific ;  over  Lapland  and  Asia,  and 
 the  nations  of  benighted  Africa?  Tlie 
 nations  of  the  Society  Islands  entertain  it; 
 and  those,  too,  of  the  Friendly  Islands ; 
 the  New  Zealanders,  also,  and  the  inhabi- 
 tants of  the  Pelew  Islands,  with  the  wild 
 tribes  of  Kalmuc  Tartary,  and  all  the  wan- 
 dering tribes  which  have  peopled,  and  do 
 still  people,  the  continent  of  America. 
 
 "  E'en  the  poor  Indian,  whose  untutor'd 
 mind 
 
 Sees  God  in  clouds,  and  hears  Him  in  the 
 wind. 
 
 Whose  soul  proud  Science  never  taught  to 
 stray 
 
 Far  as  the  solar  walk,  or  Milky  Way; 
 
 Yet  simple  Nature  to  his  hope  has  given 
 
 Behind  the  cloud-topp'd  hill  an  humbler 
 heaven, 
 
 Some  safer  world  in  depths  of  w  oods  em- 
 braced. 
 
IMMORTALITY— IMPEESSI02fS  AFTER  DEATH. 
 
 Some  li.ippier  island  in  the  watery  waste. 
 
 Where  slaves  once  more  their  native  land 
 
 behold."  JR.  W.  Landis. 
 
 IMMORTALITY— Types  of. 
 
 Even  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  I  think 
 the  analogies  derived  from  the  transforma- 
 tion of  insects  admit  of  some  beautiful 
 applications,  which  have  not  been  neg- 
 lected by  pious  entomologists.  The  three 
 states  of  the  caterpillar,  larva,  and  butter- 
 fly, have,  since  the  time  of  the  Greek 
 poets,  been  applied  to  typify  the  human 
 being,  its  terrestrial  form,  apparent  death, 
 and  ultimate  celestial  destination ;  and  it 
 seems  more  extraordinary  that  a  sordid 
 and  crawling  worm  should  become  a  beau- 
 tiful and  active  fly — that  an  inhabitant  of 
 the  dark  and  fetid  dunghill,  should  in  an 
 instant  entirely  change  its  form,  rise  into 
 the  blue  air,  and  enjoy  the  sunbeams,  than 
 that  a  being,  whose  pursuits  here  have 
 been  after  an  undying  name,  and  whose 
 purest  happiness  has  been  derived  from 
 the  acquisition  of  intellectual  power  and 
 finite  knowledge,  should  rise  hereafter  into 
 a  state  of  being  where  universality  is  no 
 longer  a  name,  and  ascend  to  the  source  of 
 unbounded  power  and  infinite  wisdom. 
 
 Sir  Mumphrei/  Davy. 
 IMMORTALITY— Wishing  for. 
 
 We  toish  for  immortality.  The  thought 
 of  annihilation  is  horrible ;  even  to  con- 
 ceive it  is  almost  impossible.  The  wish  is 
 a  kind  of  argument ;  it  is  not  likely  that 
 God  would  have  given  all  men  such  a 
 feeling,  if  He  had  not  meant  to  gratify  it. 
 Every  natural  longing  has  its  natural  satis- 
 faction. If  we  thirst,  God  has  created 
 liquids  to  gratify  thirst.  If  we  are  sus- 
 ceptible of  attachment,  there  are  beings  to 
 gratify  that  love.  If  we  thirst  for  life  and 
 love  eternal,  it  is  likely  that  there  are  an 
 eternal  life  and  an  eternal  love  to  satisfy 
 that  craving.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 IMPERFECTION- Universal, 
 
 The  creation  is  indigent;  every  creature 
 wants  somewhat  even  whereof  it  is  capable  ; 
 and  our  own  wants,  in  many  respects,  we 
 cannot  but  feel.  Nothing  is  perfect  in  its 
 own  kind,  in  respect  of  all  possible  acces- 
 sories thereto.  Even  the  state  of  the 
 glorified  spirits  above  is  not  yet  every  way 
 ^lerfect — much  is  wanting  to  their  full  and 
 complete  felicity ;  the  body  and  community 
 whereto  they  belong,  "the  general  as- 
 sembly," is  not  yet  entire  and  full ;  their 
 common  Ruler  and  Lord  is  not  acknow- 
 ledged and  had  in  honour  as  He  shall  bej 
 in  the  meanwhile  their  consummate  bles- 
 sedness, which  much  depends  on  these 
 things,  and  the  solemn  jubilee  to  be  held 
 at  the  close  and  finishing  of  all  God's  work, 
 is  deferred  ;  yea,  and  if  we  go  higher,  the 
 blessed  God  Himself,  the  author  and  original 
 
 of  all  things,  although  nothing  be  wanting 
 to  the  real  perfection  of  His  being  and 
 blessedness,  hath  yet  much  of  his  right 
 withheld  from  Him  by  His  lapsed  and  apos- 
 tate creatures ;  so  that,  which  way  soever 
 we  turn  ourselves,  there  remains  to  us  much 
 matter  of  rational,  yea,  and  holy  desire,  and 
 most  just  cause  that  our  love,  place  we  it 
 as  well  and  duly  as  we  can,  have  its  exer- 
 cise that  way;  we  have  before  us  many 
 desiderata,  according  as  things  yet  are. 
 
 J.  Howe. 
 IMPERTINENCE-Rehuked. 
 
 It  was  Mr.  Rowland  Hill's  habit  to  ride 
 to  church  in  an  old  family  carriage,  a 
 practice  too  aristocratic,  in  the  judgment 
 of  one  of  his  flock,  who  determined  to 
 rebuke  it.  It  was  customary  in  his  chapel 
 for  notes  to  be  sent  to  the  pulpit,  requesting 
 prayers  for  various  objects ;  and  one  Sab- 
 bath Mr.  Hill  was  proceeding  with  the 
 reading  of  these  requests  as  usual,  when  he 
 found  himself  in  the  midst  of  one  to  the 
 following  purport,  "  Prayers  are  requested 
 for  Kev.  Mr.  Hill,  that  he  may  be  more 
 humble  and  like  his  Divine  Master,  who, 
 instead  of  riding  in  a  carriage,  was  content 
 to  be  borne  on  an  ass."  Having  read  the 
 notice,  he  lifted  his  spectacles  to  his  fore- 
 head, and  looking  around  the  house,  ob- 
 served that  it  was  quite  true  he  had  been 
 guilty  of  the  fault  alleged;  but  if  the 
 writer  would  step  around  to  the  vestry 
 door  after  service,  saddled  and  bridled,  he 
 would  have  no  objection  to  ride  home, 
 after  his  Master's  example,  on  the  back  of 
 an  ass.  Jones. 
 
 IMPRESSIONS- First. 
 
 I  think  we  may  assert  that  In  a  hundred 
 men  there  are  more  than  ninety  who  are 
 what  they  are,  good  or  bad,  useful  or  per- 
 nicious to  society,  from  the  instruction 
 they  have  received.  It  is  on  education 
 that  depends  the  great  difference  obseiv- 
 able  among  them.  The  least  and  most 
 imperceptible  impressions  received  in  our 
 infancy  have  consequences  very  important 
 and  of  a  long  dnration.  It  is  with  these 
 first  impressions  as  with  a  river,  whose 
 waters  we  can  easily  turn  by  different 
 canals  in  quite  opposite  courses ;  so  that 
 from  the  insensible  direction  the  stream 
 receives  at  its  source  it  takes  different 
 directions,  and  at  last  airives  at  places 
 far  distant  from  each  other  ;  and  with 
 the  same  facility  we  may,  I  think,  turn 
 the  minds  of  children  to  what  direction 
 we  please.  Locke. 
 
 IMPRESSIONS  AFTER  DEATH. 
 
 It  is  said  that  by  a  certain  experiment 
 you  may  perceive  on  the  retina  of  an  ox's 
 eye,  some  time  after  death,  the  pictures  of 
 the  objects  upon  which  it  last  looked.  If 
 this  is  true  of  the  eye  of  the  ox,  what  shall 
 
476 
 
 INACTIVITY— INCOMPLETENESS. 
 
 Ave  say  of  the  soiil  of  man  ?  If  on  the  eye 
 impressions  are  made  which  ahide  after 
 death,  wliat  of  the  impressions  made  upon 
 the  conscience,  the  memory,  and  the  whole 
 retina  of  the  immortal  spirit  ?  Surely 
 these  ahide  after  death.  Is  it  possible  ever 
 to  erase  one?  Do  not  an  impressions, 
 from  the  first  to  the  last,  through  life, 
 made  in  all  ways,  continue  as  immortal  as 
 the  soul  itself?  Surely,  we  undying  ones, 
 ought  to  be  careful  upon  what  objects 
 we  look,  from  which  to  get  impressions 
 upon  our  souls.  The  impressions  made 
 on  the  soul  in  time,  will  form  its  own 
 picture-gallery,  upon  each  of  which  it  shall 
 gaze  through  the  Ijoundless  ages  of  eternity. 
 John  Bute. 
 INACTIVITY— Masterly. 
 
 Their  strength  is  to  sit  still. — Isaiah 
 XXX,  7. 
 
 "  If  he  had  sat  still,  the  enemy's  army 
 
 would    have    mouldered    to    nothing." — 
 
 Clarendon. 
 
 "  Learning  teaches  how  to  carry  things 
 in  suspense  without  prejudice  till  you  re- 
 solve."— Bacon. 
 
 "  Mightiest  powers  by  deepest  calms  are 
 fed." — Proctor.  E.  g.  The  hush  that  pre- 
 cedes a  torrent ;  the  lion  crouching  to  con- 
 tract his  muscles  for  a  certain  and  mighty 
 spring. 
 
 "He  knew  how  to  conquer  by  delay." — 
 Ramsay's  Life  of  Washington. — The  tactics 
 of  Fabius  in  harassing  the  army  of  Hanni- 
 bal, by  countermarching  and  ambuscades, 
 gained  him  the  surname  of  "  Cunctator  " 
 or  delayer. 
 
 "  The  Commons,  faithful  to  their  system, 
 remained  in  a  wise  and  masterly  inactivity" 
 • — Sir  James  Ilclnfosh,  1791 — "Vindiciaj 
 Galilean "  (a  reply  to  Burke  on  the  French 
 Revolution),  John  Randolph  used  the  ex- 
 pression in  a  speech  of  1828,  and  has  gene- 
 rally had  the  credit  of  originating  it.  John 
 C.  Calhoun,  while  debating  in  the  United 
 States  Senate,  said,  "  When  the  projjer 
 time  came,  Cuba  would  gravitate  toward 
 the  United  States,  but  in  the  mean  time 
 our  policy  was  '  a  mastei'ly  inactivity.'  " 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 INCAENATION  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 In  the  creation,  man  was  made  in  God's 
 image;  in  the  incarnation,  God  was  made 
 in  man's  image. 
 
 Christ,  in  taking  His  flesh  from  the 
 woman,  hath  honoured  her  sex ;  that  as  at 
 the  first  the  woman  hath  made  man  a 
 sinner,  so  now,  to  make  him  amends,  she 
 should  bring  him  a  Saviour. 
 
 As  the  alchemist  extracts  and  draws 
 away  the  dross  from  the  gold,  so  the  Holy 
 Ghost  did  refine  and  clarify  that  part  of 
 the  virgin's  flesh,  separating  it  from  sin. 
 Though  the  virgin  Mary  herself  had  sin, 
 that  part  of  the  flesh  whereof  Christ  v.as 
 
 made  was  without  sin ;  otherwise  it  must 
 have  been  an  impure  conception. 
 
 Christ  incarnate  is  nothing  but  love 
 covered  with  flesh.  Christ's  assuming  our 
 human  nature,  as  it  was  a  master-piece  of 
 wisdom,  so  a  monument  of  free  grace. 
 
 As  when  the  sun  shines  on  the  glass,  it 
 casts  a  bright  lustre,  so  Christ,  being  clad 
 with  our  flesh,  makes  the  human  nature 
 shine  and  appear  amiable  in  God's  eyes. 
 
 The  pure  Godhead  is  terrible  to  behold; 
 we  could  not  see  it  and  live;  but  clotliiiig 
 Himself  with  our  flesh,  makes  the  Divine 
 nature  more  amiable  and  delightful  to  us. 
 Now  we  need  not  be  afraid  to  look  upon 
 God,  seeing  Him  through  Christ's  human 
 nature.  It  was  a  custom  of  old  among  the 
 shepherds,  they  were  wont  to  clothe  them- 
 selves with  sheep-skins,  to  be  more  pleasing 
 to  the  sheep;  so  Christ  clothed  Himself 
 with  our  flesh,  that  the  Divine  nature  may 
 be  more  pleasing  to  us.  The  human  nature 
 is  a  glass,  through  which  we  may  see  the 
 love,  and  wisdom,  and  glory  of  God  clearly 
 represented  to  us.  Through  the  lantern  of 
 Christ's  humanity,  we  may  behold  the  light 
 of  the  Deity  shining. 
 
 For  Christ  to  be  made  flesh  was  more 
 humility  than  for  the  angels  to  be  made 
 worms. 
 
 Christ  came  from  heaven,  and  from  the 
 richest  place  in  heaven.  His  Father's  bosom, 
 that  hive  of  sweetness. 
 
 Behold  the  infinite  love  of  Christ  that 
 He  was  willing  thus  to  condescend  to  take 
 our  flesh.  Surely  the  angels  would  have 
 disdained  to  have  taken  our  flesh,  it  would 
 have  been  a  disparagement  to  them.  What 
 king  would  be  willing  to  wear  sackcloth 
 over  his  cloth  of  gold  ?  but  Christ  did  not 
 disdain  to  take  our  flesh.  T.  Watson. 
 
 INCAENATION  OF  CHEIST— Definition  of 
 the. 
 The  doctrine  of  the  incarnation  in  its 
 whole  amount  is  this :  that  one  of  the 
 three  persons  of  the  Godhead  was  united 
 to  a  man,  that  is,  to  a  human  body  and  a 
 human  soul,  in  the  person  of  Jesus,  in  order 
 to  expiate  the  guilt  of  the  whole  human 
 race,  original  and  actual,  by  the  merit, 
 death,  and  sufi'erings  of  the  man  so  united 
 to  the  Godhead.  Bj).  Jlorsleg. 
 
 INCOMPLETENESS. 
 
 Nothing  resting  in  its  own  completeness 
 
 Can  have  worth  or  beauty ;  but  alone 
 Because  it  leads  and  tends  to  farther  sweet- 
 ness. 
 
 Fuller,  higher,  deeper,  than  its  own. 
 
 Spring's  real  glory  dwells  not  in  the  mean- 
 ing. 
 
 Gracious  though  it  be,  of  her  blue  hours ; 
 But  is  hidden  in  her  tendei  leading 
 
 To  the  summer's  richer  wealth  of  flowers. 
 
INCONSISTENCY— IITCOKSTANCY. 
 
 477 
 
 Dawn  is  fair  because  the  mists  fade  slowly 
 Into  day,  which  floods  the  world  with 
 light; 
 
 Twiligrht's  mystery  is  so  sweet  and  holy. 
 Just  because  it  ends  in  starry  night. 
 
 Childhood's  smiles  unconscious  graces  bor- 
 row 
 From  strife,  that  in  a  far  off  future  lies ; 
 Aud  angel   glances  (veiled  now  by  life's 
 sorrow) 
 Draw  our  hearts  to  some  beloved  eyes. 
 
 Life  is  only  bright,  when  it  proceedeth 
 Towards  a  truer,  deeper  life  above ; 
 
 Human  love  is  sweetest  when  it  leadeth 
 To  a  more  Divine  and  perfect  love. 
 
 A.  A.  Procter. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY— Danger  of. 
 
 There  is  no  favorite  cliild  of  nature  who 
 may  hold  the  fireball  in  the  hollow  of  his 
 hand  and  trifle  with  it  without  being 
 burnt ;  there  is  no  selected  child  of  grace 
 who  can  live  an  irregular  life  without  un- 
 rest ;  or  be  proud  and  at  the  same  time 
 have  peace ;  or  indolent,  and  receive  fresh 
 inspiration ;  or  remain  unloving  and  cold, 
 and  yet  see,  and  hear,  and  feel  the  things 
 which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
 love  Him.  F.  W.  Rolertson. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY- Eeal. 
 
 A  man  is  strictly  and  properly  incon- 
 sistent whcse  opinions  or  practices  are  at 
 any  one  time  at  variance  with  each  other ; 
 in  short,  wlio  holds  at  once  a  proposition 
 and  its  contradictory,  e.g.  who  incurs  a 
 great  expense  in  feasting  or  equipage  with 
 a  view  to  the  display  of  carelessness  about 
 money,  yet  exposes  himself  to  ridicule 
 through  stinginess  in  the  conduct  of  those 
 very  things ;  who  censures  and  abhors  in- 
 tolerance, yet  practices  it  towards  others ; 
 who  preaches  aud  believes  the  truth  and 
 the  importance  of  revealed  religion,  yet 
 acts  as  if  it  were  a  string  of  nursery  fables, 
 &c.  Archbishop  Whateit/. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY— Eeckoned. 
 
 1.  A  person  is  often  reckoned  wanting 
 in  consistency  whenever  he  alters  his  course 
 of  proceeding,  his  language,  his  opinion, 
 &c.,  in  conformity  with  a  change  of  circum- 
 stances ;  or,  at  least,  such  a  censure  is  often 
 pronounced  decidedly  and  at  once,  without 
 ascertaining  or  even  inquiring  whether 
 there  is  or  is  not  such  a  change  of  circum- 
 stances as  may  call  for  that  alteration. 
 Such  is  the  inconsistency  of  passing  a  law, 
 and  afterwards  repealing  it  when  no  longer 
 needed;  of  making  war  and  afterwards 
 peace;  of  wearing  a  great  coat  in  wet 
 weather  and  not  in  dry,  &c. ;  of  thinking 
 well  or  ill  of  a  man  according  to  his 
 conduct,  &c. 
 
 2.  A  man  is  reckoned  inconsistent  for 
 
 changing  his  conduct,  opinion,  &c.,  when 
 circumstances  remain  the  same;  in  short, 
 for  altering  his  mind;  as  when,  having 
 been  vicious,  he  reforms,  or  the  contrary ; 
 when,  having  thought  well  or  ill  of  a  man, 
 he  finds  or  thinks  himself  mistaken ;  when, 
 having  advocated  any  me;isure,  he  comes 
 to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  erroneous  in 
 so  doing,  &c. ;  in  short,  when  he  acknow- 
 ledges himself  to  be  wiser  to-day  than  be 
 was  yesterday.  In  this  case  some  fiult  or 
 error  is  implied,  either  first  or  last;  an  all- 
 wise  and  perfect  Being  cannot,  therefore, 
 undergo  any  3uch  change  ;  and  the  Church 
 of  Rome,  consequently,  or  any  church  or 
 individual  that  is  resolved  never  to  ac- 
 knowledge being  in  error,  will  never  confess 
 a  change  of  this  kind.  Ibid. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY— in  Eeligioa. 
 
 Alexander  once  said  to  a  poltroon  who 
 bore  but  disgraced  his  name,  "  P]ither 
 change  thy  name  or  change  thy  ways." 
 So  Christ  says  to  every  one  of  His  incon- 
 sistent followers.  John  Bate. 
 
 In  religion,  not  to  do  as  than  sayest  is 
 to  unsay  thy  religion  in  thy  de«ds,  and  to 
 undo  thyself  by  doing.  Venning. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY— Sceptical. 
 
 The  following  is  told  on  unqne!ttional)le 
 authority,  in  a  note  to  the  '  London  Quar- 
 terly Review,'  for  February,  1817.  It  is 
 related  in  the  manuscript  memO'irs  of  the 
 late  Dr.  Carlist,  "  an  eminent  cleyg-yman  of 
 the  Scottish  Church,"  and  friend  of  the 
 historian  : — "When  David  Hume  and  Mr. 
 Boyle,  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Crlasgow, 
 were  both  in  London  at  the  period  when 
 David's  mother  died,  Mr.  Boyle  bearing  of 
 it,  soon  after  went  into  his  apartiaent  (for 
 they  lodged  in  the  same  house),  when  he 
 found  him  in  the  deepest  affliction,  and  in 
 a  flood  of  tears.  After  the  usual  topics  of 
 condolence,  Mr.  Boyle  said  to  him,  'My 
 friend,  you  owe  this  uncommon  grief  to 
 your  having  thrown  off  the  principles  of 
 religion;  for  if  you  had  not,  you  would 
 have  been  consoled  by  the  firm  belief  that 
 the  good  lady,  who  was  not  only  the  best; 
 of  mothers,  but  the  most  pious  of  Christians, 
 was  completely  happy  in  the  realms  of  the 
 just.'  To  which  David  replied,  'Though  I 
 throw  out  my  speculations  to  entertain  and 
 employ  the  learned  and  metaphysical  world, 
 yet,  in  other  things,.!  do  not  think  so 
 dift'erently  from  the  rest  of  mankind  as  you 
 imagine.'"  i)r.  Carlist. 
 
 INCONSTANCY— Evils  of. 
 
 An  inconstant  and  wavering  mind,  as  it 
 makes  a  man  unfit  for  society  (for  that 
 there  can  be  no  assurance  of  his  words  or 
 purposes,  neither  can  we  build  on  them 
 without  deceit),  so,  besides  that,  it  makes 
 
478 
 
 INDECISION. 
 
 a  man  ridiculous,  it  hinders  him  from  ever 
 attaining  any  perfection  in  himself  (for  a 
 rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss,  and  the 
 mind,  while  it  would  be  everything,  proves 
 nothing.  Oft  changes  cannot  be  without 
 loss)  ;  yea,  it  keeps  him  from  enjoying 
 that  which  he  hath  attained.  For  it  keeps 
 him  ever  in  work,  building,  pulling  down, 
 selling,  changing,  buying,  commanding, 
 forbidding.  So,  whiles  he  can  be  no  other 
 man's  friend,  he  is  the  least  his  own.  It 
 is  the  safest  course  for  a  man's  profit, 
 credit,  and  ease,  to  deliberate  long,  to  re- 
 solve surely  ;  hardly  to  alter,  not  to  enter 
 upon  that  whose  end  he  foresees  not  an- 
 swerable ;  and  when  he  is  once  entered,  not 
 to  surcease  till  he  have  attained  the  end  he 
 foresaw.  So  may  he,  to  good  purpose, 
 begin  a  new  work  when  he  hath  well 
 finished  the  old,  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 INDECISION— Cost  of. 
 
 Nothing  can  less  contribute,  or  be  more 
 destructive,  to  vigour  of  action  than  pro- 
 tracted anxious  fluctuation,  through  reso- 
 Intions  adopted,  rejected,  resumed,  sus- 
 pended ;  while  yet  nothing  causes  a  greater 
 expense  of  feeling.  The  heart  is  fretted 
 and  exhausted  by  being  subjected  to  an 
 alteration  of  contrary  ex(;itenients,  with 
 the  ultimate  mortifying  consciousness  of 
 their  contributing  to  no  end.  The  long- 
 wavering  deliberation,  whether  to  perform 
 some  bold  action  of  difficult  virtue,  has 
 often  cost  more  to  feeling  than  the  action 
 itself,  or  a  series  of  such  actions  would  have 
 cost ;  with  the  great  disadvantage  too  of 
 not  being  relieved  by  any  of  that  invigora- 
 tion  which  the  man  in  action  finds  in  the 
 activity  itself,  that  spirit  created  to  reno- 
 vate the  energy  which  the  action  is  ex- 
 pending. J.  Foster. 
 
 INDECISION— Example  of. 
 
 Pilate  exhibited  a  sad  degree  of  vacilla- 
 tion, inconsistency,  indecision.  Now  he 
 throws  all  blame  upon  the  priests :  "  I  am 
 innocent  of  His  blood ;  see  ye  to  it." 
 Again  he  takes  the  entire  responsibility 
 upon  himself:  "  Knowest  Thou  not  that  I 
 have  power  to  crucify  Thee,  and  power  to 
 release  ?"  Now  he  pronounces  Jesus  in- 
 nocent, yet  with  the  same  breath  proposes 
 to  have  Him  punished  as  guilty ;  now  he 
 gives  Him  up,  and  then  he  has  recourse  to 
 every  kind  of  expedient  to  rescue.  Un- 
 stable as  water,  he  does  not,  he  cannot 
 succeed. 
 
 He  allowed  others  to  dictate  to  him. 
 Carelessly  and  inconsiderately  he  submits 
 that  to  their  judgment  which  he  should 
 have  kept  wholly  within  his  own  hold. 
 He  becomes  thus  as  a  wave  of  the  seu,  as  a 
 feather  in  the  air,  which  every  breeze  of 
 heaven  bloweth  about  as  it  listeth. 
 
 D)\  Manna. 
 
 INDECISION -Example  of. 
 
 "  He  was,"  i.e.,  Balaam,  as  an  old  writer 
 remarks,  "  one  of  those  unstable  men  whom 
 the  apostle  calls  '  double-minded,'  an  ambi- 
 dexter in  religion,  like  Redwald,  king  of 
 the  East-Saxons  (the  first  that  was  bap- 
 tised, who  (as  Camden  relates)  had  in  the 
 same  church  one  altar  for  the  Christian  re- 
 ligion and  another  for  sacrificing  to  devils ; 
 and  a  loaf  of  the  same  leaven  was  our  reso- 
 lute lluf'us,  that  painted  God  on  one  side 
 of  his  shield  and  the  devil  on  the  other, 
 with  this  desperate  inscription,  In  utrunque 
 parattis,  '  I  am  ready  for  either — catch  that 
 catch  can.'  Or  this  was  such  a  sinful  mix- 
 I  ture  as  was  that  worship  of  those  mongrels 
 who  'feared  God,  and  feared  Him  not,' 
 that  is,  rightly,  for  they  feared  Him  only 
 for  His  lions  that  He  sent  to  slay  them ; 
 not  truly  nor  totally,  for  God  will  not  part 
 stakes  with  the  devil  at  any  hand." 
 
 Br.  Kiilo. 
 INDECISION— Man  of. 
 
 He  feels  indignant  that  there  should  be 
 a  failing  part  of  his  nature  to  defraud  the 
 nobler,  and  cast  him  below  the  ideal  model 
 and  the  actual  examples  which  he  is  ad- 
 miring, and  this  feeling  assists  him  to  re- 
 solve that  he  will  undertake  this  enterprise, 
 that  he  certLiinly  will,  though  the  Alps  or 
 the  ocean  lie  between  him  and  the  object. 
 Again  his  ardour  slackens,  distrustful  of 
 himself,  he  wishes  to  know  how  the  design 
 would  appear  to  other  minds,  and  when  he 
 speaks  of  it  to  his  associates,  one  of  them 
 wonders,  another  laughs,  and  another 
 frowns.  His  pride  while  with  them  at- 
 tempts a  manful  defence,  but  his  resolution 
 gradually  crumbles  down  towards  their 
 level ;  he  becomes  in  a  little  while  ashamed 
 to  entertain  a  visionary  project,  which, 
 therefore,  like  a  rejected  friend,  desists 
 from  intruding  on  him  or  following  him, 
 except  at  lingering  distance ;  and  he  sub- 
 sides at  last  into  what  he  labours  to  believe 
 a  man  too  rational  for  the  schemes  of 
 ill-calculating  enthusiasm.  And  it  were 
 strange  if  the  effort  to  make  out  this 
 favorable  estimate  of  himself  did  not  suc- 
 ceed, while  it  is  so  much  more  pleasant  to 
 attribute  one's  defect  of  enterprise  to  wis- 
 dom, which  on  maturer  thought  disap- 
 proves it,  than  to  imbecility,  which  shrinks 
 from  it.  J.  Foster. 
 
 INDECISION— Vacillation  of. 
 
 A  man  without  decision  can  never  be 
 said  to  belong  to  himself;  since,  if  he 
 dared  to  assert  that  he  did,  the  puny  force 
 of  some  cause  about  as  powerful  ,you  would 
 have  supposed  as  a  spider,  may  make  a 
 seizure  of  the  hapless  boaster  the  very  next 
 moment,  and  contemptuously  exhibit  the 
 futility  of  the  determinations  by  which  he 
 was  to  have  proved  the  independence  of 
 
INDECISION— INDIVIDUAL  EFFOET. 
 
 479 
 
 his  understanding  and  his  will.  He  he- 
 longs  to  whatever  can  make  capture  of  him, 
 and  one  thing  after  another  vindicates  its 
 right  to  him,  by  arresting  him  while  he  is 
 trying  to  go  on  ;  as  twigs  and  chips  float- 
 ing near  the  edge  of  a  river  are  intercepted 
 by  every  weed  and  whirled  in  every  little 
 eddy.  Having  concluded  on  a  design  he 
 may  pledge  himself  to  accomplish  it — if 
 the  hundred  diversities  of  feeling  which 
 may  come  within  the  week  will  let  him. 
 His  character  precluding  all  foresight  of 
 his  conduct,  he  may  sit  and  wonder  what 
 form  and  direction  his  views  and  actions 
 are  destined  to  take  to-morrow ;  as  a 
 farmer  has  often  to  acknowledge  that  next 
 day's  proceedings  are  at  the  disposal  of  its 
 winds  and  clouds.  J.  Foster. 
 
 INDECISION— Weakness  of. 
 
 Incapable  of  setting  up  a  firm  purpose 
 on  the  basis  of  things  as  they  are,  he  is 
 often  employed  in  vain  speculations  on 
 some  different  supposable  state  of  things, 
 which  would  have  saved  him  from  all  this 
 perplexity  and  irresolution.  He  thinks 
 what  a  determined  course  he  could  have 
 pursued  if  his  talents,  his  health,  his  age, 
 had  been  different;  if  he  had  been  ac- 
 quainted with  some  one  person  sooner ;  if 
 his  friends  were,  in  this  or  the  other  point, 
 different  from  what  they  are ;  or  if  fortune 
 had  showered  her  favours  on  him.  And  be 
 gives  himself  as  much  license  to  complain 
 as  if  all  these  advantages  had  been  among 
 the  rights  of  his  nativity,  but  refused  by  a 
 malignant  or  capricious  fate  to  his  life. 
 Thus  he  is  occupied,  instead  of  marking 
 with  a  vigilant  eye,  and  seizing  with  a 
 strong  hand,  all  the  possibilities  of  his  ac- 
 tual situation.  Ibid. 
 
 INDIFFERENCE— Weakness  of. 
 
 Indifference  never  wrote  great  works, 
 nor  thought  out  striking  inventions,  nor 
 reared  the  solemn  architecture  that  awed 
 the  soul,  nor  breathed  sublime  music,  nor 
 painted  glorious  pictures,  nor  undertook 
 heroic  philanthropies.  All  these  grandeurs 
 are  born  of  enthusiasm,  are  done  heartily. 
 Anon. 
 
 INDIFFERENT  THINGS. 
 
 The  apostles  valued  not  indifferences  at 
 all :  and  those  things  it  is  evident  they  ac- 
 counted such,  which  whether  men  did  them 
 or  not,  was  not  of  concernment  to  salva- 
 tion. And  what  reason  is  there  why  men 
 should  be  so  strictly  tied  up  to  such 
 things,  which  they  may  do  or  let  alone, 
 and  yet  be  very  good  Christians  still  ? 
 
 Stillingjleet. 
 INDIVIDUAL  EFFORT. 
 
 You  say,  What  can  I  do  ?  Oh,  I  have 
 no  power,    nor   influence,  nor  name,  nor 
 
 talents,  nor  money.  Look  at  the  coral  reef, 
 yonder,  where  it  encircles  the  fail  isles  that 
 lie  like  bright  gems  on  the  bosom  of  the 
 Pacific  ;  or,  by  Australian  shores,  stretches 
 its  unbroken  wall  for  a  thousand  leagues 
 along  the  sea.  How  contemptible  the 
 architects,  yet  the  aggregate  of  their  la- 
 bours,  mocking  our  greatest  breakwaters, 
 how  colossal  !  So  it  ought  to  be,  and 
 would  be,  in  our  congregations,  were  every 
 man  and  every  woman  to  feel  their  own 
 individual  res])onsibilities  ;  would  each  go 
 to  Christ,  saying.  Lord,  what  wilt  Thou 
 have  me  to  do  ?  would  they  but  rise  to  the 
 height  of  their  calling.  I  know  that  all 
 cannot  be  bright  and  sbining  lights  ;  that 
 honour  is  reserved  for  John  Baptist  and  a 
 ■few  such  men.  But  see  how  that  candle 
 in  a  cottage  window  sends  its  rays  stream- 
 ing far  through  the  depths  of  night. 
 Why  should  not  we  shine,  though  but  like 
 that  ? — shine,  though  it  should  be  to  illu- 
 mine only  the  narrow  walls  of  our  country's 
 humblest  home. 
 
 Consider  how  the  greatest  things  ever 
 done  on  earth  have  been  done  by  little  and 
 little — little  agents,  little  persons,  little 
 things.  How  was  the  wall  restored  around 
 Jerusalem  ?  By  each  man,  whether  his 
 house  was  an  old  palace  or  the  rudest 
 cabin,  building  the  breach  before  his  own 
 door.  How  was  the  soil  of  the  New  world 
 redeemed  from  gloomy  forests?  By  each 
 sturdy  emigrant  cultivating  the  patch 
 around  his  own  log  cabin.  How  have  the 
 greatest  battles  been  won?  Not  by  tlie 
 generals  who  got  their  breasts  blazoned 
 with  stars,  and  their  brows  crowned  with 
 honours;  but  by  the  rank  and  file,  every 
 man  holding  his  own  post,  and  ready  to 
 die  on  the  battle  field.  They  won  the 
 victory!  It  was  achieved  by  the  blood 
 and  courage  of  the  many  ;  and  I  say,  if 
 the  world  is  ever  to  be  conquered  for  our 
 Lord,  it  is  not  by  ministers,  nor  by  office- 
 bearers, nor  by  the  great,  and  noble,  and 
 mighty ;  but  by  every  man  and  woman, 
 every  member  of  Christ's  body,  being  a 
 working  member;  doing  their  own  work; 
 filling  their  own  sphere ;  holding  their  own 
 post ;  and  saying  to  Jesus,  Lord,  what  wilt 
 Thou  have  me  to  do  ?  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 It  is  by  the  individual  effort  of  many 
 combined,  that  all  the  mighty  works  of 
 man  are  accomphshed  —  building  great 
 ships,  constructing  vast  machines,  levelling 
 or  tunnelling  rocky  mountains,  bridging 
 rivers,  and  chasms,  &c.  It  is  by  the  indi- 
 vidual working  of  the  wheels  of  a  watch 
 or  clock  that  it  tells  the  hour  of  the  day. 
 It  is  by  the  individual  revolution  of  the 
 various  wheels,  each  in  its  proper  place,  of 
 the  great  iron  works  of  our  country  tbat 
 so  much  material  is  produced  and  wealth 
 acquired.     Upon  this  particular,  illustra- 
 
480 
 
 INDIVIDTJAL  POWER— IKDUSTSY. 
 
 tlaus  abonnd  in  every  part  of  unture  and 
 of  art.  John  Bate. 
 
 IITDIVIDUAL  POWER. 
 
 The  greatest  works  that  have  been  done 
 have  been  dime  by  the  ones.  The  hundreds 
 do  not  often  do  much,  the  companies  never 
 do;  it  is  the  units,  just  the  single  indivi- 
 duals, that,  after  all,  are  the  power  and  the 
 might.  Take  any  parish  m  England  where 
 there  is  a  well-regulated  society  for  doing 
 good— it  is  some  young  woman  or  some 
 young  man  who  is  the  very  life  of  it.  Take 
 any  church — there  are  mi\ltitudes  in  it,  but 
 it  is  some  two  or  three  that  do  the  woi-k. 
 Look  on  the  Reformation  ;  there  might  be 
 many  reformers,  but  there  was  but  one 
 Luther  ;  there  might  be  many  teachers, 
 but  there  was  but  one  Calvin.  Look  ye 
 upon  the  preachers  of  the  last  age,  the 
 mighty  preachers  who  stirred  up  the 
 churches  ;  there  were  many  coadjutors 
 ■with  them,  but  after  all,  it  was  not  Whit- 
 field's friends  nor  Wesley's  friends,  but  the 
 men  themselves  that  did  it.  Individual 
 effort  is,  after  all,  the  grand  thing.  A 
 man  alone  can  do  more  than  a  man  with 
 fifty  men  at  his  heels  to  fetter  him.  Com- 
 mittees are  very  seldom  of  much  use  ;  and 
 bodies  and  societies  sometimes  are  a  loss  of 
 strength  instead  of  a  gain.  It  is  said  that 
 if  Noah's  ark  had  had  to  be  built  by  a 
 company,  they  would  not  have  laid  the 
 keel  yet ;  and  it  is  perhaps  true.  There  is 
 scarcely  anything  done  by  a  body ;  it  al- 
 most always  fails;  because  what  is  many 
 men's  business  is  just  nobody's  business  at 
 all.  Just  the  same  with  religion ;  the 
 grand  things  must  be  done  by  the  ones, 
 the  great  works  of  God  must  be  accom- 
 plished by  single  men.  Look  back  through 
 all  history.  Who  delivered  Israel  from  the 
 Philistines  ?  It  was  solitary  Samson.  Who 
 was  it  gathered  the  people  together  to  rout 
 the  Midianites  ?  It  was  one,  Gideon,  who 
 cried,  "  The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of 
 Gideon."  Who  was  he  that  smote  the 
 enemy  ?  It  was  Shamgiir,  with  his  ox- 
 goad;  or  it  was  an  Ehud,  who  with  his 
 dagger  put  an  end  to  his  country's  tyrant. 
 Separate  men  —  Davids  with  their  slings 
 and  stones — have  done  more  than  armies 
 could  accomplish.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 INDOLENCE— Temptations  of. 
 
 Indolence  offers  her  tempting  Lethean 
 draught ;  she  invites  to  a  life  of  ease  and 
 quiet;  to  that  genteel  respectability  that 
 never  allows  its  votary 
 
 "  To  say  a  foolish  thing 
 And  never  do  a  wise  one." 
 
 Indolence,  the  guardian  angel  of  the  Ori- 
 ental throne ;  the  spirit  that  weighs  down 
 the  powers  of  the  brave  or  the  intellectual ; 
 who  spreads  the  soft  carpet  and  the  gentle 
 
 sward ;  who  invites  to  meandering  streams 
 and  all  the  tame  enjoyments  of  life;  the 
 everlasting  grumbler,  who  never  wrote  a 
 book,  or  sung  a  glorious  hymn,  or  perfected 
 an  existence,  or  enlarged  the  boundaries 
 of  science,  or  ascended  a  mountain,  or  per- 
 formed a  noble  feat.  Indolence !  the  en- 
 slaver of  the  popular  mind,  at  once  the 
 tyrant's  master  and  his  sceptre,  the  inertia 
 of  the  soul;  she  tells  the  listening  votary 
 that  books,  and  problems,  and  poems,  and 
 discussions,  and  world  betterings,  are  all 
 full  of  trouble  and  anxiety  ;  she  implores 
 her  friends  to  take  things  coolly ;  she  puts 
 on  a  most  amiable  physiognomy,  and  speaks 
 of  tlie  pleasures  of  the  fireside,  the  enjoy- 
 ments of  home ;  she  bids  you  nod  over  the 
 fender,  and  recline  at  ease  over  the  sofa ; 
 and  while  she  otters  her  g  srland  of  flowers, 
 she  bears  away  her  lovers  to  the  dance; 
 and  there  they  go  who  follow  her,  and  who 
 love  her — 
 
 "  A  parson  much  bemused  by  beer, 
 A  maudling  poet,  and  a  rhyming  peer, 
 A  clerk  foredoomed   his   father's  soul  to 
 
 To  pen  a  stanza  when  he  should  engross." 
 E.  P.  Hood. 
 
 INDUSTRY— Blessings  of. 
 
 Is  not  the  field,  with  lively  culture  green, 
 
 A  sight  more  joyous  than  the  dead  mo- 
 rass ? 
 
 Do  not  the  skies  with  active  ether  clean. 
 
 And  fanu'd  by  sprightly  zephyrs,  far  sur- 
 pass 
 
 The  foul  November  fogs,  and  slumbrous 
 mass 
 
 With  which  sad  nature  veils  her  drooping 
 face  ? 
 
 Does  not  the  mountain  stream  as  clear  as 
 glass. 
 
 Gay-dancing  on,  the  putrid  pool  disgrace  ? 
 
 The  same  in  all  holds  true,  but  chief  in 
 human  race.  Thomson. 
 
 INDUSTRY— Definition  of. 
 
 Industry  doth  not  consist  merely  in 
 action,  for  that  is  incessant  in  all  persons ; 
 our  mind  being  like  a  ship  in  the  sea,  if 
 not  steered  to  some  good  purpose  by  reason 
 yet  tossed  by  the  waves  of  fancy,  or  driven 
 by  the  winds  of  temptation  some-whither  j 
 but  the  direction  of  our  mind  to  some 
 good  end,  without  roving  or  flinching,  in  a 
 straight  and  steady  course,  drawing  after 
 it  our  active  powers  in  execution  thereof, 
 doth  constitute  industry.         Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 INDUSTRY— Pleasure  of. 
 
 Industry  is  not  only  the  instrument  of 
 improvement,  but  the  foundation  of  plea- 
 sure;  for  nothing  is  so  opposite  to  the  true 
 enjoyment  of  life  as  the  relaxed  and  feeble 
 state  of  an  indolent  mind.     He  who  is  a 
 
INFALLIBILITY— IKFAirr. 
 
 481 
 
 s^rfiTig-er  to  industry  may  possess,  but  he 
 cannot  enjoy.  It  is  labour  only  tliat  gives 
 a  relish  to  pleasure.  It  is  the  indispensable 
 condition  of  our  possessing  a  sound  mind 
 in  a  sound  body.  Idleness  is  so  inconsistent 
 Mith  both,  that  it  is  hard  to  determine 
 whether  it  be  a  greater  foe  to  virtue,  or  to 
 health  and  happiness.  Inactive  as  it  is 
 in  itself,  its  effects  are  fatally  powerful. 
 Though  it  appears  a  slowly  flowing  stream, 
 yet  it  undermines  all  that  is  stable  and 
 flourishing.  It  is  like  water,  which  first 
 ])ntrefies  by  stagnation,  and  then  sends  up 
 noxious  vapours,  filling  the  atmosphere 
 with  death.  Dr.  Blair. 
 
 INFALLIBILITY— Papal. 
 
 The  claimed  infallibility  is  by  this  suf- 
 ficiently disproved,  that  there  is  no  imagin- 
 able way  of  proving  it.  For  if  there  were 
 any  such  thing,  it  must  be  by  God's  own 
 immediate  gift  and  vouchsafement ;  how 
 otherwise  should  a  man  be  made  infallible  ? 
 And,  if  so,  it  must  be  for  an  end  worthy  of 
 a  wise  and  merciful  God;  whereupon,  for 
 the  same  reason  for  which  He  should  have 
 made  such  a  man  infallible,  He  should  have 
 made  it  iufallibly  certain  to  other  men  that 
 He  hath  made  him  so  :  whereas  there  is  no 
 one  point  wherein  his  infallible  determina- 
 tion can  be  pretended  to  be  necessary, 
 against  which  there  is  more  to  be  said  than 
 against  the  pretence  of  his  infallibility ; 
 nor  for  which  less  is  to  be  said  than  can, 
 with  any  colour,  or  without  highest  and 
 most  just  contempt,  be  said  for  it.  The 
 most  weighty  thing  that  I  have  known 
 alleged  is,  the  great  expediency  of  an  in- 
 fallible judge.  But  if  we  will  think  that  a 
 way  of  arguing,  that  things  are  in  fact  so 
 or  so,  because  we  can  fancy  it  would  be 
 better  if  they  were,  we  may  as  well  prove 
 that  all  mankind  are  sincere  Christians,  or 
 there  is  no  sin  in  the  world,  nor  ever  was, 
 and  a  thousand  things  besides  in  the  natural 
 world  that  never  were  or  will  be,  because  it 
 appears  to  us  it  would  be  for  the  better. 
 
 John  Howe. 
 
 IITFAMY. 
 
 Infamy  is  where  it  is  received.  If  thou 
 art  a  mud  wall,  it  will  stick  ;  if  marble, 
 it  will  rebound.  If  thou  storm  at  it,  'tis 
 thine ;  if  thou  contemn  it,  'tis  his. 
 
 Quarhs. 
 
 INFANCY— Beauty  of. 
 
 The  morning  with  every  flower  glisten- 
 ing in  dews,  the  fresh  air  loaded  with  per- 
 fumes, the  hills  bathed  in  golden  light, 
 the  skies  ringing  with  the  song  of  larks, 
 is  beautiful.  Beautiful  as  is  the  morning 
 ol  day,  so  is  that  of  life.  Fallen  though  we 
 are,  there  remains  a  purity,  modesty,  in- 
 genuousness, and  tenderness  of  conscience, 
 about  childhood,  that  looks  as  if  the  glory 
 
 of  Eden  yet  lingered  over  it,  like  tlio  liirht 
 of  the  day  on  hill-tops  at  even,  when  the 
 sun  is  down.  The  Word  of  God,  no  doubt, 
 declares  infants,  as  well  as  others,  to  be 
 dead  in  trespasses  and  sins;  and  I  don't 
 say  but  there  is  death  ;  still  it  is  like  death 
 before  the  body  has  grown  stiff  and  cold, 
 the  colour  of  life  fled  the  cheek,  or  decay 
 eflated  its  beauty.  Look  at  a  little  child  ! 
 It  does  not  behave  itself  unseemly  ;  does 
 not  rejoice  in  iniquity ;  does  not  glory  in 
 its  shame ;  nor  stand  with  unblushing  front 
 before  a  shocked  and  wondering  world  to 
 avow  its  vileness,  and  proclaim  itself  se- 
 ducer, liar,  murderer.  Blushes  mantle  on 
 its  cheek,  and  it  has  a  conscience  in  its 
 bosom,  which  protests  against  thoughts, 
 and  words,  and  actions,  that  men  live  to 
 boast  of.  Sins,  afterwards  committed  with- 
 out compunction,  and  rolled  as  a  sweet 
 morsel  under  the  tongue,  are  followed  in 
 early  life  by  fears  and  uneasy  feelings, 
 stings  of  conscience,  and  bitterness  of  re- 
 morse ;  and  the  child  is  no  more  like  what 
 the  man  becomes  than  a  rosebud,  bursting 
 its  sheath,  breathing  odours,  and  opening 
 into  beauty,  is  like  that  vile,  soile'.,  and 
 rotten  thing  which  I  have  seen  hanging  on 
 the  leafless  branch — a  nest  of  worms,  and 
 smelling  rank  of  decay.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 INFANT— Beauty  of  an. 
 It  lay  upon  its  mother's  breast,  a  thing 
 Bright   as   a   dewdrop  when   it   first   de- 
 scends. 
 Or  as  the  plumage  of  an  angel's  wing, 
 Where  every  tint  of  rainbow  beauty  blends 
 Mrs.  Welby 
 INFANT— A  Sleeping. 
 Art  thou  a  thing  of  mortal  birth. 
 Whose  happy  home  is  on  our  earth  ? 
 Does  human  blood  with  life  imbue 
 Those  wandering  veins  of  heavenly  blue 
 That  stray  along  thy  forehead  fair, ' 
 Lost  'mid  a  gleam  of  golden  hair  ? 
 Oh  !  can  that  light  and  airy  breath 
 Steal  from  a  being  doomed  to  death  ? 
 Those  features  to  the  grave  be  sent. 
 In  sleep  thus  mutely  eloquent  ? 
 Or  art  thou,  what  thy  form  would  seem. 
 The  phantom  of  a  blessed  dream  ? 
 
 Oh  !  that  my  spirit's  eye  could  see 
 Whence  bursts  those  gleams  of  ecstasy  ! 
 That  light  of  dreaming  soul  appears 
 To  play  from  thoughts  above  thy  years. 
 Thou  smil'st  as  if  thy  soul  were  soaring 
 To  heaven,  and  heaven's  God  adoring ; 
 And  who  can  tell  what  visions  high 
 May  bless  an  infant's  sleeping  eye  ? 
 
 Wilson. 
 INFANT— Tenderness  of  an. 
 
 Infancy  hath  life  but  in  effigy,  or  like 
 a  spark  dwelling  in  a  pile  of  wood ;  the 
 candle  is  so  newly  lighted,  that  every  little 
 31 
 
482 
 
 INFANT  BAPTISM— INFIDELITY. 
 
 shaking  of  the  taper,  and  every  ruder  breath 
 of  air,  puts  it  out,  and  it  dies. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 INFANT  BAPTISM— Antiquity  of. 
 
 An  assembly  of  sixty-six  pastors,  men 
 who  had  stood  the  trial  of  a  grievous  per- 
 secution, and  sound  in  the  faith,  was  called 
 by  Cyprian,  in  the  year  253  of  the  Christian 
 era,  to  decide,  not  whether  infants  should 
 be  baptized  at  all,  but  whether  it  should  be 
 doue  innnedifjtely,  or  on  the  eighth  day.  If 
 infant  baptism  had  been  an  innovation,  it 
 must  have  been  now  of  considerable  stand- 
 ing. The  disputes  about  Easter  show  that 
 such  an  innovation  must  have  formed  a 
 renuirkable  era  in  the  Church.  It  is  im- 
 possible to  account  for  the  silence  of  all 
 antiquity,  but  on  the  footing  that  it  had 
 once  been  allowed,  and  that  infant  baptism 
 was  the  practice  of  the  first  churches. 
 
 miner. 
 
 INFANT  BAPTISM— Improvement  of. 
 
 A  departed  saint  said,  "  If  infant  baptism 
 were  more  improved,  it  would  be  less  dis- 
 puted; but  when  persons  see  the  baptism 
 hurried  over  as  if  it  were  an  encumbrance, 
 and  an  unwelcome  interruption,  instead  of 
 being  administered  as  part  of  the  service 
 equally  with  the  rest ;  when  they  see  that 
 Imrriedly  administered,  and  hear  no  more 
 about  it,  can  yon  wonder  that  those  who 
 preach  another  doctrine  find  in  some  in- 
 stances an  easy  prey?"  Mr.  Wesley's 
 teaching  on  this  subject  is  instructive.  He 
 recommends  to  us  all,  and  enjoins  upon  us 
 all,  to  follow  the  example  of  Philip  Henry. 
 He  had  a  method  of  improving  infant  bap- 
 tism, superior  to  that  of  most  divines,  and 
 decidedly  better  than  I  have  at  any  time 
 met  with.  He  drew  out  what  he  called  a 
 form  of  the  Baptismal  Covenant,  "  I  take 
 God  the  Father  to  be  my  Pathcr ;  I  take 
 God  the  Son  to  be  my  Saviour ;  I  take 
 God  the  Holy  Ghost  to  be  my  Comforter, 
 Teacher,  Guide,  and  Sanctifier.  I  take 
 the  Word  of  God  to  be  the  rule  of  my 
 actions;  I  take  the  people  of  God  to  be 
 my  people  in  all  conditions ;  and  all  this  I 
 do  deliberately,  freely,  and  for  ever."  He 
 taught  all  his  children  to  say  this  to  him 
 every  Sunday  night ;  when  tliey  were  able 
 to  write,  he  made  every  one  of  them  write 
 it,  and  sign  it.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
 keep  this  for  a  testimony  against  you." 
 And  he  did  keep  it.  And  there  is  found 
 among  his  papers  one  of  the  most  affecting 
 documents  in  the  English  language  —  a 
 copy  of  this  covenant,  signed  by  each  of 
 his  children  in  succession.  But  he  never 
 had  to  produce  it  against  them.  By  God's 
 grace  they  kept  it,  and  they  verified  his 
 own  frequent  adage,  "Fast  bind,  fast 
 find."  Dr.  Osborn. 
 
 INFANT  SALVATION. 
 
 The  following  epitaph  is  very  striking 
 in  reference  to  this  subject ;  it  is  found,  I 
 understand,  in  Cambridge  churchyard — 
 
 "  Bold  infidelity,  turn  pale  and  die  ! 
 Beneath  this  stone  four  infants'  ashes  He  : 
 
 Say,  are  they  lost  or  saved  ? 
 If  death's  by   sin,   they   sinned,   because 
 
 they're  here ; 
 If  heaven's  by  works,  in  heaven  they  cau't 
 
 appear : 
 
 Reason,  ah  !  how  depraved ! 
 Revere  the  saered  page ;  the  knot's  untied  : 
 They  died,  for  Adam  sinned;  they  live,  for 
 
 Jesus  died!"  W,  O'Neill. 
 
 INFANTS— Death  of. 
 
 One  half  of  human  kind  die  in  infancy. 
 Five  millions  of  precious  babes,  it  is  said, 
 perish  annually,  and  are  transferred  to  the 
 home  of  the  skies.  Like  as  on  all  trees, 
 there  are  more  blossoms  in  spring  time 
 than  ripe  fruits  in  autunin,  so  there  are 
 more  infants  than  adults  that  drop  away 
 from  the  circles  of  earthly  love. 
 
 Edioin  Davies. 
 INFANTS— Influence  of. 
 
 Many  times  a  father  has  come  home  de- 
 pressed and  sorrowful  in  mind  occasioned  by 
 the  ways  of  this  selfish  and  unsympathising 
 world,  but  the  happy  smiles  and  innocent 
 little  ways  of  his  infant,  not  a  year  old, 
 have  thrown  a  sunshine  into  his  soul,  and 
 produced  the  gladness  of  its  own  little 
 heart  within  his.  Jukn  Bate. 
 
 INFANTS— Smiles  of. 
 
 The  smiles  of  infants  are  said  to  be  the 
 first  fruits  of  human  reason. 
 
 S.  N.  Hudson. 
 INFIDELITY— Causes  of. 
 
 1.  A  drowsy  inobservance  and  careless- 
 ness which  do  not  mind  the  concerns  of 
 the  soul,  or  regard  the  means  of  God  for 
 its  conversion. 
 
 2.  Sloth,  which  indisposeth  men  to  un- 
 dergo the  fatigue  of  seriously  attending  to 
 the  doctrine  propounded,  of  examining  its 
 grounds,  of  weighing  the  reasons  inducing 
 to  belief. 
 
 3.  Stupidity  or  dulness  of  apprehension 
 in  understanding  the  Christian  doctrine. 
 
 4.  A  bad  judgment,  corrupted  with  pre- 
 judicate  notions,  and  partial  inclinations  to 
 falsehood. 
 
 5.  Perverseness  of  will,  which  hindereth 
 men  from  entertaining  notions  disagreeable 
 to  their  fond  or  froward  humour. 
 
 6.  Hardness  of  heart,  which  is  so  often 
 represented  as  an  obstruction  of  belief. 
 
 7.  A  want  of  love  to  the  truth. 
 
 8.  A  grand  cause  of  infidelity  is  pride, 
 wiiich  doth  interpose  various  bars  to  the 
 admission  of  Christiau  truth. 
 
INFIDELITY— INFIDELS. 
 
 483 
 
 9.  Pusillanimity,  or  want  of  good  reso- 
 lution and  courage:  cowards  and  infidels 
 are  well  joined  among  those  who  are  de- 
 voted to  the  fiery  lake. 
 
 10.  Sturdiness,  fiei-ceness,  wildness,  un- 
 tamed animosity  of  spirit ;  so  that  a  man 
 will  not  endure  to  have  his  will  crossed,  to 
 be  under  any  law,  to  be  curbed  from  any- 
 thing which  he  is  prone  to  affect. 
 
 11.  In  fine,  from  what  spirit  infidelity 
 doth  proceed,  we  may  see  by  the  princi- 
 ples commonly  with  it  espoused,  for  its 
 support  and  countenance,  by  its  great 
 masters  and  patrons.  Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 INFIDELITY— Definition  of. 
 
 Infidelity  is  the  want  of  faith  iu  God,  or 
 the  disbelief  of  the  truths  of  revelation, 
 and  the  great  principles  of  religion. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 INFIDELITY— Effects  of. 
 
 It  is  infidelity  that  maketh  men  covetous, 
 uncharitable,  discontent,  pusillanimous,  im- 
 patient. 
 
 Infidelity  did  cause  the  devil's  apostacy. 
 
 Infidelity  did  banish  man  from  Paradise 
 (trusting  to  the  devil,  and  distrusting  God's 
 Word). 
 
 Infidelity  (disregarding  the  warnings 
 and  threats  of  God)  did  bring  the  deluge 
 on  the  world. 
 
 Infidelity  did  keep  the  Israelites  from 
 entering  into  Canaan,  the  type  of  heaven  ; 
 as  the  apostle  to  the  Hebrews  doth  insist. 
 
 Infidelity,  indeed,  is  the  root  of  all  sin ; 
 for  did  man  heartily  believe  the  promises 
 to  obedience,  and  the  threats  to  disobe- 
 dience, they  could  hardly  be  so  unreason- 
 able as  to  forfeit  the  one  or  incur  the  other ; 
 did  they  believe  that  the  omnipotent,  all- 
 wise,  most  just  and  severe  God,  did  com- 
 mand and  require  such  a  practice,  they 
 could  hardly  dare  to  omit  or  transgress. 
 
 Dr.  Barrow. 
 INFIDELITY— Madness  of. 
 
 The  infidel,  who,  by  his  cavils,  would 
 undermine  the  foundations  of  Christian 
 hope,  is  like  the  madman  who  recklessly 
 pushes  from  him  the  lifeboat  which  is  his 
 only  hope  of  rescue  from  the  wreck. 
 Christianity  does  hold  out  hope;  it  is  a 
 hope  which  has  proved  substantial  and 
 consolatory  to  thousands ;  but  what  has 
 infidelity  done  ?  Its  highest  achievement 
 is  to  jjroduce  temporary  insensibility  to  a 
 fate  which  cannot  be  averted,  and  which, 
 when  it  does  come,  will  crush  the  obdurate 
 unbeliever  into  perdition.     .  Anon. 
 
 INFIDELITY— Modern. 
 
 I  understand  that  as  the  most  dangerous, 
 because  the  most  attractive,  form  of  modern 
 infidelity,  which,  pretending  tO  exalt  the 
 beneficence  of  the  Deity,  degrades  it  into  a 
 reckless  infinitude  of  mercy,  and  blind  ob- 
 
 literation of  the  work  of  sin;  and  which 
 does  this  chiefly  by  dwelling  on  the  mani- 
 fold appearances  of  God's  kindness  on  the 
 face  of  creation.  Such  kindness  is,  indeed, 
 everywhere  and  always  visible,  but  not 
 alone.  Wrath  and  threatening  are  in- 
 variably mingled  with  the  love ;  and,  in 
 the  utmost  solitudes  of  nature,  the  existence 
 of  hell  seems  to  me  as  legibly  declared  by 
 a  thousand  spiritual  utterances  as  of  heaven. 
 It  is  well  for  us  to  dwell  with  thankfulness 
 on  the  unfolding  of  the  flower,  and  the 
 falling  of  the  dew  and  the  sleep  of  the 
 green  fields  in  the  sunshine;  but  the 
 blasted  trunk,  the  barren  rock,  the  moaning 
 of  the  bleak  winds,  the  roar  of  the  black, 
 perilous  whirlpools  of  the  mountain's 
 streams,  the  solemn  solitudes  of  moors 
 and  seas,  the  continual  fading  of  all  beauty 
 into  darkness,  and  of  all  strength  into 
 dust,  have  these  no  language  for  us  ?  We 
 may  seek  to  escape  their  teachings  by  rea- 
 sonings touching  the  good  which  is  wrought 
 out  of  all  evil ;  but  it  is  vain  sophistry. 
 The  good  succeeds  to  the  evil  as  day  suc- 
 ceeds the  night ;  but  so  also  does  the  evil 
 to  the  good.  Gerizim  and  Ebal,  birth  and 
 death,  light  and  darkness,  heaven  and  hell, 
 divide  the  existence  of  man  and  his  futurity. 
 J.  Buskin. 
 
 INFIDELITY— opposed  to  Morality. 
 
 Disbelief  in  futurity  loosens  in  a  great 
 measure  the  ties  of  morality,  and  may  be 
 supposed  for  that  reason  to  be  pernicious 
 to  the  peace  of  civil  society.  Hume. 
 
 One  day  that  D'Alembert  and  Condorcet 
 were  dining  with  Voltaire,  they  proposed 
 to  converse  of  atheism  ;  but  Voltaire  stop- 
 ped them  at  once.  "  Wait,"  said  he,  "  till 
 my  servants  have  withdrawn  ;  I  do  not 
 wish  to  have  my  throat  cut  to-night." 
 
 Dr.  Ckeever, 
 INFIDELITY— Weakness  of. 
 
 During  the  French  revolution,  .lean 
 Bon  St.  Andre,  the  Vendeun  Revolutionist, 
 said  to  a  peasant,  "  I  will  have  all  your 
 steeples  pulled  down,  that  you  may  no 
 longer  have  any  object  by  which  you  may 
 be  reminded  of  your  old  superstitions." 
 "  But,"  replied  the  peasant,  "  i/ou  cannot 
 help  leaving  us  the  stars."  Anon. 
 
 INFIDELS— Confessions  of. 
 
 "I  seem,"  says  Hume,  "afrighted  and 
 confounded  with  the  solitude  in  which  I 
 am  placed  by  my  philosophy.  When  I 
 look  abroad,  on  every  side  I  see  dispute, 
 contradiction,  distraction.  When  I  turn 
 my  eye  inward,  I  find  nothing  but  doubt 
 and  ignorance.  Where  am  I  ?  or  what 
 am  I  ?  From  what  cause  do  I  derive  my 
 existence  ?  To  what  condition  shall  I  re- 
 turn? I  am  confounded  with  questions. 
 I  begin  to  fancy  myself  in  a  most  deplor- 
 
4.84 
 
 imsriS— nTFLTJENCE. 
 
 able  condition,  environed  with  dnrkiiess 
 on  every  side."  Voltaire  says,  "  The  world 
 abounds  with  wonders,  and  also  with 
 victims.  In  man  is  more  wretchedness 
 than  in  all  other  animals  put  together." 
 How  did  he  judge  of  it  ?  By  his  own  heart. 
 He  adds,  "  Man  loves  life,  yet  he  knows  he 
 must,  die  ;  spends  his  existence  in  ditlusing 
 the  miseries  he  has  suffered — cutting  the 
 throats  of  his  fellow-creatures  for  pay — 
 cheating  and  being  cheated.  The  bulk  of 
 mankind,"  he  continues,  "are  nothing 
 more  than  a  crowd  of  wretches,  equally 
 criminal,  equally  unfortunate.  I  wish  I 
 had  never  been  born."  Hear  what  St. 
 Paul  says  : — "  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I 
 have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the 
 faith  :  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
 crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord, 
 the  righteous  Judge,  will  give  me  at  that 
 day."  Anon. 
 
 INFIDELS— Description  of. 
 Is  it  in  words  to  paint  you !  O  ye  fall'n  ! 
 FaH'n  from  the  wings  of  reason,  and  of 
 
 hope  ? 
 Erect  in  stature,  prone  in  appetite ; 
 Patrons  of  pleasure,  posting  into  pain; 
 Lovers  of  argument,  averse  to  sense; 
 Boasters  of  liberty,  fast  bouni  in  chains  ; 
 Lords  of  the  wide"  creation,  and  the  shame ; 
 More  senseless   than   the   irrationals  you 
 
 scorn ;  [you  pity 
 
 More  base  than  those  you  rule ;  than  those 
 Far  more  undone !     O  ye  most  infamous 
 Ot  beings,  from  superior  dignity.      Young. 
 INFIDELS— Reply  to. 
 
 Infidels  tell  us  that  God  has  flung  this 
 world  fnnn  His  hand,  and  has  left  it  to 
 shift  for  itself,  and  deprived  it  entirely  of 
 His  paternal  care.  God  points  to  constant 
 care  of  man,  and  tells  them  that  they  lie. 
 Infidels  have  insinuated  that  if  there  be  a 
 God,  He  dwells  in  some  far-off  laboratory 
 of  power,  but  that  this  world  of  His 
 creation  is  now  orphaned  of  His  grace. 
 God  points  to  all  the  creation  rejoicing  in 
 its  fitness  and  in  its  harmony,  and  bids 
 them  listen  to  its  song. 
 "  The  solemn  monntain  lifts  its  head,  the 
 
 Almighty  to  proclaim. 
 The  brooklet  from    its   crystal   bed  doth 
 
 leap  to  greet  His  name ; 
 High  swells  the  deep  and  fitful  sea,  upon 
 
 its  billowy  track, 
 And  red  Vesuvius  opens  its  mouth,  to  hurl 
 
 the  falsehood  back. 
 '  No  God !     With   indignation  high,  yon 
 
 fervent  sun  is  stirr'd. 
 And  the  pale  moon  turns   paler  still,  at 
 
 such  an  impious  word ; 
 And  from  their  thrones  in  heaven  the  stars 
 
 look  diiwn  with  angry  eye. 
 That  man,  a  worm  of  dust,  should  mock 
 
 eternal  majesty."         W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 INFLUENCE— Christian. 
 
 Every  Christian  is  placed  in  a  centre,  of 
 which  the  globe  is  the  circumference,  and 
 each  must  fill  that  circumference,  as  every 
 star  forms  a  centre,  and  shines  through 
 the  whole  sphere,  and  yet  all  meet  and 
 mingle,  forming  one  vast  field  of  light ;  or 
 as  in  many  well-tuned  instruments,  each 
 moves  every  particle  of  the  surrounding 
 air,  and  yet  strikes  every  ear  in  one  har- 
 monious sound.  Dr.  Jackson. 
 
 INFLUENCE— Gentle. 
 
 Drop  follows  di'op,  and  swells 
 
 With  rain  the  sweeping  river; 
 Word  follows  word,  and  tells 
 
 A  truth  that  lives  for  ever. 
 
 Flake  follows  flake,  like  spirits 
 Whose  wings  the  winds  dissever ; 
 
 Thought  follows  thought,  and  lights 
 The  realm  of  mind  for  ever. 
 
 Beam  follows  beam,  to  cheer 
 
 The  cloud  the  bolt  would  shiver; 
 
 Throb  follows  throb,  and  fear 
 Gives  place  to  joy  for  ever. 
 
 The  drop,  the  flake,  the  beam. 
 
 Teach  us  a  lesson  ever ; 
 The  word,  the  thought,  the  dream, 
 
 Impress  the  soul  for  ever.  Anon, 
 
 INFLUENCE— Meaning  of. 
 
 What  is  the  proper  meaning  of  Infvpnce  1 
 Originally,  it  certainly  was  used  to  denote 
 some  subtle  mysterious  Agent  Jlowinc/  in 
 upon  some  person  or  thing,  something  in 
 the  way  that  we  conceive  of  an  electric 
 current,  &c.  Since,  its  meaning  has  been 
 greatly  extended;  but  still  we  do  not 
 extend  it  to  even/  cause.  As  we  should 
 never  speak  of  the  wjiuence.  of  a  stream 
 carrying  a  man  off,  or  of  men  who  drag 
 him  to  prison  by  physical  force,  so,  neither, 
 should  we  speak  of  a  man's  being  "  infu- 
 enced"  by  the  demonstrations  of  Euclid. 
 But  in  moral  concerns  we  do  speak  of  his 
 being  influenced  by  arguments ;  though 
 we  should  ofteuer  speak — and  should  con- 
 sider ourselves  as  speaking  more  strictly — 
 of  the  influence  of  various  passions.  But 
 we  always  use  the  word,  I  think,  in  those 
 cases  to  which  our  ancestors  confined  it, 
 viz.,  when  we  speak  of  one  man  having 
 gained  an  infiuence  over  another  of  which 
 no  account  can  be  given  ;  when  he  sways 
 him  independently  of  the  amount  of  love, 
 fear,  respect,  &c.,  felt,  and  beyond  what 
 can  be  referred  to  his  reason,  or  to  regard 
 for  his  interest,  or  to  any  intelligible 
 motive.  I  think  there  must  be  a  certain 
 mesmeric  power  possessed  by  some  people 
 in  reference  to  some  others.  Some  can 
 thus  influence  one,  or  few ;  some,  a  great 
 many ;  and  some,  none  at  all. 
 
 Archbishop  Whately. 
 
INFLUENCE— INFLUENCE  OF  MORAL  CHARACTER. 
 
 485 
 
 INFLUENCE— Power  of. 
 
 The  stone,  flung  from  my  careless  hand 
 into  the  lake,  splashed  down  into  the 
 depths  of  the  flowing  water,  and  that  was 
 all.  No,  it  was  not  all.  Jjook  at  those 
 concentric  rings,  rolling  their  tiny  ripples 
 among  the  sedgy  reeds,  dipping  the  over- 
 hanging boughs  of  yonder  willow,  and  pro- 
 ducing an  inrtuence,  slight  but  conscious, 
 to  the  very  shores  of  the  lake  itself.  That 
 hasty  word,  that  word  of  pride,  or  scorn 
 flung  from  my  lips  in  casual  company, 
 produces  a  momentary  depression,  and 
 that  is  all.  No,  it  is  not  all.  It  deepened 
 that  man's  disgust  at  godliness,  and  it 
 sharpened  the  edge  of  tliat  man's  sarcasm, 
 and  it  shamed  that  half  converted  one  out 
 of  his  penitent  misgivings,  and  it  produced 
 an  influence,  slight  but  eternal,  on  the 
 destiny  of  an  innnortal  life.  Oh,  it  is  a 
 terrible  power  that  I  have — this  power  of 
 influence — and  it  clings  to  me.  I  cannot 
 shake  it  ofl'.  It  is  born  with  me ;  it  has 
 grown  with  my  growth,  and  strengtlienecl 
 with  my  strength.  It  speaks,  it  walks,  it 
 moves ;  it  is  powerful  in  every  look  of  my 
 eye,  in  every  word  of  my  lips,  in  every  act 
 of  my  life.  I  cannot  live  to  myself.  I 
 must  either  be  a  light  to  illumine,  or  a 
 tempest  to  destroy.  I  must  either  be  an 
 Abel,  who,  by  his  immortal  righteousness, 
 being  dead  yet  speak eth,  or  an  Achan,  the 
 saddest  continuance  of  whose  otherwise 
 forgotten  name  is  the  fact  that  man 
 pi^rishes  not  alone  in  his  iniquity.  O 
 brethren,  this  necessary  element  of  power 
 belongs  to  you  all.  Thy  sphere  may  be 
 contracted,  thine  influence  may  be  small, 
 but  a  sphere  and  influence  you  have. 
 
 JF.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 INFLUENCE  OF  A  CHILD. 
 
 A  gentleman,  lecturing  in  the  neighl)0ur- 
 hood  of  London,  said,  "  Everybody  has  in- 
 fluence, even  that  child,"  pointing  to  a 
 little  girl  in  her  father's  arms.  "That's 
 true  1"  cried  the  man.  At  the  close  he 
 said  to  the  lecturer,  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 
 sir,  but  I  could  not  help  speaking.  I  was 
 a  drunkard;  but,  as  1  did  not  like  to  go 
 to  the  public-house  alone,  I  used  to  carry 
 this  child.  As  I  approached  the  public- 
 house  one  night,  hearing  a  great  noise  in- 
 side, she  said,  '  Don't  go,  father  !'  '  Hold 
 your  tongue,  child.'  '  Please,  father,  don't 
 go !'  '  Hold  your  tongue,  I  s.ay.'  Pre- 
 sently, I  felt  a  big  tear  fall  on  my  cheek.  I 
 could  not  go  a  step  further,  sir.  I  turned 
 round,  and  went  home,  and  have  never  been 
 in  a  public-house  since,  thank  God  for  it. 
 I  am  now  a  happy  man,  sir,  and  this  little 
 girl  has  done  it  all ;  and  when  you  said 
 tliat  even  she  had  influence,  I  could  not 
 help  saying,  'That's  true,  sir.'  Allliave 
 influence."  N.  Mall. 
 
 INFLUENCE  OF  A  HOLY  CHARACTER. 
 
 But  no  less  real  is  the  influence  upon 
 others  of  a  holy  character.  "  The  evil  men 
 do  lives  after  them ;"  but  we  do  not  be- 
 lieve that  "  the  good  is  oft  interred  with 
 their  bones."  No,  it  is  as  immortal  as  the 
 Divine  Being  in  whom  it  originates.  The 
 good  must  ever  live,  and  "  walk  up  and 
 down  theeaith,"  like  a  living  s]nrit  guided 
 by  the  living  God,  to  convey  blessings  to 
 the  children  of  men.  It  lives  in  humanity, 
 in  some  form  or  other,  like  the  subtle  sub- 
 stance of  material  things,  which  though 
 ever  changing  never  perishes,  but  adds  to 
 the  stability,  the  beauty,  and  the  grandeur 
 of  the  universe.  The  influence  of  the  holy 
 chai'acter  passes  also  beyond  the  stars, 
 giving  joy  to  our  angel  brothers ;  and  to 
 our  elder  brother  Jesus  Christ,  who  in 
 seeing  His  own  love  to  His  God  and  our 
 God,  to  His  neighbour  and  ours,  reflected 
 in  His  people,  beholds  the  grand  result  of 
 the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  is  "  satisfled." 
 
 Dr.  Macleod^ 
 INFLUENCE  OF  MORAL  CHARACTER. 
 
 This  influence  is  partly  beyond  and  partly 
 within  the  region  of  our  will.  That  whicu 
 is  beyond  our  will  is  the  fact  of  the  neces- 
 sary influence  of  character ;  while  within 
 our  will  is  the  chai-acter,  good  or  bad, 
 which  we  may  choose  to  possess.  Now  it 
 cannot  be  questioned  that  character  tells 
 for  good  or  evil  beyond  its  possessor.  That 
 which  a  man  is ;  that  sum  total  made  up 
 of  the  items  of  his  beliefs,  purposes,  atfec- 
 tions,  tastes,  and  habits,  manifested  in  all 
 he  does  and  does  not,  is  contagious  in  its 
 tendency,  and  is  ever  fhoiograjjli'Dig  itself 
 on  other  spirits.  He  himself  may  be  as 
 unconscious  of  this  emanation  of  good  or 
 evil  from  his  character,  as  he  is  of  the  con- 
 tagion of  disease  from  his  body,  or,  if  that 
 were  equally  possible,  of  the  contagion  ol 
 good  health.  But  the  fact,  nevertheless, 
 is  certain.  If  the  light  is  in  him,  it  must 
 shine ;  if  darkness  reigns,  it  must  shade. 
 If  he  glows  with  love,  it  will  radiate  its 
 warmth  ;  if  he  is  frozen  with  selUshne-s, 
 the  cold  will  chill  the  atmosphere  arouiid 
 him  ;  and  if  corrupt  and  vile,  he  will  poison 
 it.  Nor  is  it  possible  for  any  one  to  occupy 
 a  neutral  or  indifterent  position.  In  some 
 form  or  other  he  tnust  aflect  others.  Were 
 he  to  banish  himself  to  a  distant  island,  or 
 even  enter  the  gates  of  death,  he  still  exer- 
 cises a  positive  influence,  for  he  is  a  loss  to 
 his  brother ;  the  loss  of  that  most  blessed 
 gift  of  God,  even  that  of  a  living  man  to 
 living  men — of  a  being  who  ought  to  have 
 loved  and  to  have  been  beloved. 
 
 The  influence  of  individual  character  ex- 
 tends even  from  generation  to  generation. 
 The  world  is  moulded  by  it.  Does  not  its 
 history  turn  on  the  influence  exercised  by 
 the  first  and  second  Adam  ?  Idid. 
 
486 
 
 INTLUEIICES— INGEATITUDE. 
 
 INFLUENCrS— Silent. 
 
 A  man  need  not  covet  the  higli-sonnding 
 language  of  the  egntist,  the  pedant,  or 
 pharisee,  to  have  influence  with  others.  He 
 need  not  aspire  to  the  deeds  of  heroes  or 
 the  achievements  of  warriors.  A  fixed  star 
 is  better  than  an  erratic  comet.  The  even, 
 steady,  patient  temper,  is  better  than  the 
 blustering  and  self-conceited  behaviour. 
 An  unbroken  series  of  good  works  per- 
 formed in  the  retired  s])here  of  a  humble 
 life,  are  more  beneficial  in  influence  than 
 maoy  a  world-wide  reported  exploit  ac- 
 complished on  the  theatre  of  public  ob- 
 servation. The  bubbling  spring  which 
 makes  the  beautiful  rivulet,  flowing  gently 
 by  the  homestead  of  a  country  farm-house 
 and  through  the  centre  of  a  rural  little 
 village,  may  be  more  valuable  and  useful 
 than  the  rushing  flood  or  roaring  cataract. 
 Niagara  is  an  object  of  wonder  to  the  con- 
 templative mind.  We  stand  amazed  before 
 Its  magnificence  and  grandeur.  As  the 
 power  of  God  opens  the  stupendous  flood- 
 gates and  pours  the  world  of  water  from  the 
 iioilow  of  His  hand,  we  bow  in  adoring 
 admiration.  But  one  Niagara  is  sufiicient 
 for  a  continent,  if  not  for  a  world.  Its 
 influences  are  more  of  a  sentimental 
 than  physical  and  moral  eflect.  Tliey  are 
 more  beneficial  to  the  tourist  or  traveller, 
 than  to  the  occupant  of  the  soil  and  the 
 artisan  of  the  shop.  Whereas  the  thou- 
 sands of  glassy  fountains  aud  gently  run- 
 ning streams,  which,  unnoticed  and  unad- 
 mived  by  the  multitudes,  beautify  the 
 country,  are  refreshing  to  the  meadow,  the 
 garden,  the  shrubbery,  the  cattle,  aud  the 
 thousands  of  needy  inhabitants. 
 
 Jolm  Bate. 
 INFLUENCES -Unseen. 
 
 How  many  of  the  influences  which 
 operate  in  the  universe  of  mind,  matter, 
 commerce,  and  life,  are  unseen  I  What 
 eye  has  ever  beheld  the  influences  of  the 
 sun  upon  the  earth  ? — the  influences  of  the 
 sun  upon  the  mo(m  ? — the  influences  of  the 
 planets  upon  one  another  ?  The  changes 
 as  results  of  the  influences  may  be  seen  or 
 felt,  but  the  influence  itself  is  unseen. 
 The  surfiice  of  nature  and  her  depths  are 
 constantly  changing,  but  who  sees  the  in- 
 fluences as  they  operate  ?  The  ever  vary- 
 ing changes  of  mind  in  its  thoughts,  and 
 aft'ectious,  are  brought  about  by  influences 
 unseen  by  mortal  eye.  It  is  so  in  human 
 life.  A  man  suddenly  departs  to  America, 
 changes  his  occupation,  his  residence,  his 
 apparel,  perhaps  his  name ;  few  may  notice 
 these  changes,  or  they  may  be  surprised  at 
 them ;  but  the  influences  which  have 
 caused  them  are  probably  only  known  to 
 the  man  and  his  God.  Ibid. 
 
 INGKATITUDE— Baseness  of. 
 
 There  is  not  any  vice  or  ill  quality  in- 
 
 cident to  the  mind  of  man,  against  which 
 the  world  has  raised  such  a  loud  and  uni- 
 versal outcry,  as  against  ingratitude ;  a 
 vice  never  mentioned  by  any  heathen 
 writer  but  with  a  particular  height  of  de- 
 testation ;  and  of  such  a  malignity,  that 
 human  nature  must  be  stripped  of  humanity 
 itself  before  it  can  be  guilty  of  it.  It  is 
 instead  of  all  other  vices  ;  and  in  the 
 balance  to  morality,  a  counterpoise  to  them 
 all.  In  the  charge  of  ingratitude,  omnia 
 dixeris ;  it  is  one  great  blot  upon  all 
 morality ;  it  is  all,  in  a  word  ;  it  says  Amen 
 to  the  black  roll  of  sins  ;  it  gives  completion 
 and  confirmation  to  them  all. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Causes  of. 
 
 As  the  deepest  hate  may  spring  from  the 
 most  violent  love,  so  the  greatest  ingrati- 
 tude may  arise  from  the  largest  benefits. 
 It  is  said  that  Cicero  was  slain  by  one 
 whom  his  oratory  had  defended  when  he 
 was  accused  of  his  father's  murder. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 There  be  three  usual  causes  of  in- 
 gratitude, upon  a  benefit  received  :  envy, 
 pride,  covetonsness;  envy,  looking  more  at 
 others'  benefits  than  our  own  ;  pride,  look-, 
 ing  more  at  ourselves,  than  the  benefit ; 
 covetonsness,  looking  more  at  what  we 
 would  have,  than  what  we  have. 
 
 Bp.  Sail. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Definition  of. 
 
 Ingratitude  is  the  vice  of  being  insen- 
 sible to  favours  received,  without  any  en- 
 deavour  to  acknowledge  and  repay  them. 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Effects  of. 
 
 Ingratitude  is  a  nail  which,  driven  into 
 the  tree  of  courtesy,  causes  it  to  wither; 
 it  is  a  broken  channel,  by  which  the  founda- 
 tions of  the  affections  are  undermined  j 
 and  a  lump  of  soot,  which,  ftilling  into  the 
 dish  of  friendship,  destroys  its  scent  and 
 flavour.  Basil. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— FiUal. 
 
 There  was  once  a  father  who  gave  up 
 everything  to  his  children — his  house,  his 
 fields,  an<l  goods — and  expected  that  for 
 this  his  children  would  support  him.  But 
 after  he  had  been  some  time  with  his 
 son,  the  latter  grew  tired  of  him,  and  said 
 to  him, 
 
 "  Father,  I  have  had  a  son  born  to  me 
 this  night,  and  there,  where  your  arm-chair 
 stands,  the  cradle  must  come ;  will  you  not, 
 perhaps,  go  to  my  brother,  who  has  a 
 larger  room  ?" 
 
 After  he  had  been  some  time  with  the 
 second  son,  he  also  grew  tired  of  him,  aud 
 said, 
 
INGRATITUDE— INJURIES. 
 
 487 
 
 "  Fatlier,  ymi  like  a  warm  room,  and  that 
 hurts  iny  head ;  won't  you  go  to  my  brother, 
 the  baker  ?" 
 
 The  father  went,  and  after  he  had  been 
 some  time  with  the  third  son,  he  found 
 him  troublesome,  and  said  to  him, 
 
 "  Father,  the  people  run  in  and  out  here 
 all  day  as  if  it  were  a  pigeon-house,  and 
 you  cannot  have  your  noonday  sleep;  would 
 you  not  be  better  off  at  my  sister  Kate's, 
 near  the  town  wall  ?" 
 
 The  old  man  remarked  how  the  wind 
 blew,  and  said  to  himself,  "  Yes,  I  will  do 
 so ;  I  will  go  and  try  it  with  my  daughter. 
 Women  have  softer  hearts." 
 
 But  after  he  had  spent  some  time  with 
 his  daughter,  she  grew  weary  of  him,  and 
 said  she  was  always  so  fearful  when  her 
 father  went  to  church  or  anywhere  else, 
 and  was  obliged  to  descend  the  steep  stairs, 
 and  at  her  sister  Elizabeth's  there  was  no 
 stairs  to  descend,  as  she  lived  on  the  ground 
 floor. 
 
 For  the  sake  of  peace  the  old  man  as- 
 sented, and  went  to  his  other  daughter. 
 But  after  some  time  she  too  was  tired  of 
 bini,  and  told  him,  by  a  third  person,  that 
 her  house  near  the  water  was  too  damp  for 
 a  man  who  suffered  with  the  gout,  and  her 
 sister,  the  grave-digger's  wife  at  St.  John's, 
 had  much  drier  lodgings. 
 
 The  old  man  himself  thought  she  was 
 right,  and  went  outside  the  gate  to  his 
 youngest  daughter  Helen.  But  after  he 
 had  been  three  days  with  her,  her  little 
 son  said  to  his  grandfather, 
 
 "  Mother  said  yesterday  to  cousin  Eliza- 
 beth, that  there  was  no  better  chamber  for 
 you  than  such  a  one  as  father  digs." 
 
 These  words  broke  the  old  man's  heart, 
 so  that  he  sank  back  in  his  chair  and  died 
 in  a  moment.  Luther. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Fruitlessness  of. 
 
 In  a  word,  ingratitude  is  too  base  to 
 return  a  kindness,  and  too  proud  to  regard 
 it;  much  like  the  tops  of  mountains, 
 barren,  indeed,  but  yet  lofty;  they  pro- 
 duce nothing,  they  feed  nobody,  they  clothe 
 nobody,  yet  are  high  and  stately,  and  look 
 down  upon  all  the  world  about  them. 
 
 Br.  Souifh. 
 
 He  who  does  a  kindness  to  an  ungrateful 
 person,  sets  his  seal  to  a  flint,  and  sows  his 
 seed  upon  the  sand;  upon  the  former  he 
 makes  no  impression,  and  from  the  latter 
 he  finds  no  production.  Ibid. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Hatefal. 
 
 I  hate  ingratitude  more  in  man, 
 
 Than  lying,  vainness,  babbling,  drunken- 
 ness. 
 
 Or  aiay  taint  of  vice,  whose  strong  corrup- 
 tion 
 
 Inhabits  our  frail  blood.  Shakes  eare. 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Hateful. 
 
 IngPaiitudb  !  that  marlile-hearted  fiend. 
 More  hideous,  when  thou  show'st  thee  in  a 
 
 child. 
 Than  the  sea  monster.  Otioay, 
 
 INGRATITUDE— Insatiableness  of. 
 
 The  only  voice  of  ingratitude  is,  "  Give, 
 give ;"  but  when  the  gift  is  once  received, 
 then,  like  the  swine  at  his  trough,  it  is 
 silent  and  insatiable.  In  a  word,  the  un- 
 grateful person  is  a  monster,  which  is  all 
 throat  and  beJly ;  a  kind  of  thoroughfare 
 or  common  sewer,  for  the  good  things  of 
 the  world  to  pass  into ;  and  of  whom,  in 
 respect  of  all  kindnesses  conferred  on  him, 
 may  be  verified  that  observation  of  the 
 lion's  den,  before  which  appeared  the  foot- 
 steps of  many  that  had  gone  in  thither,  but 
 no  prints  of  any  that  ever  came  out  thence. 
 Dr.  South. 
 INGRATITUDE— Selfishness  of. 
 
 As  the  Dead  Sea  drinks  in  the  river 
 .Tordan,  and  is  never  the  sweeter;  and  the 
 ocean  all  other  rivers,  and  is  never  the 
 fresher;  so  we  are  apt  to  receive  daily 
 mercies  from  God,  and  still  remain  insen- 
 sible of  them,  unthankful  for  them.  God's 
 mercies  to  us  are  like  the  dew  on  the 
 fleece.  We  are  like  fishermen's  weels.  wide 
 at  that,  end-  which  lets  in  the  fish,  bui 
 narrow  at  the  other  end,  so  that  they  can- 
 not get  on^  again;  greedy  to  get  mercy, 
 tenacious  tb  hold  it.  The  rain  conies  down 
 from  heaven  in  showers ;  it  goes  up  but  in 
 mists.  We  sow  in  our  land  one  measure, 
 and  receive  ten;  yea,  Isaac  received  a 
 hundredfold  ;  but  God  sows  ten,  it  may  be, 
 a  hundred  mercies  amongst  us,  when  we 
 scarce  return  the  praise  and  the  fruit  of 
 one.  Our  hearts  in  this  case  are  like  the 
 windows  of  the  temple,  "  wide  inside  "  to 
 let  in  mercies,  but  "  narrow  outward "  to 
 let  forth  praises  (1  Kings  vi,  4). 
 
 B]}.  Reynolds. 
 INGRATITUDE— Unkind. 
 
 Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
 Thou  art  not  so  unkind 
 As  man's  ingratitude; 
 
 Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen. 
 Because  thou  art  not  seen. 
 Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 INJURIES— Forgetting. 
 
 The  occurrences  of  almost  every  day 
 show  me  what  cause  I  have  to  ble^s  and 
 adore  God  for  enabling  me  to  adopt,  and 
 carry  into  eflect  a  very  simple  principle, 
 which  brings  the  sweetest  peace  into  my 
 soul.  It  is  this  :  a  man  strikes  me  with  a 
 sword  and  inflicts  a  wound.  Suppose, 
 instead  of  binding  np  the  wound,  I  am 
 showing  it  to  everybody,  and  after  it  has 
 
4S3 
 
 INJURIES— INJUSTICE. 
 
 been  bound  up  T  am  taking  off  the  bandage 
 continually,  and  examining  the  depth  of 
 tiie  wound,  and  making  it  to  fester,  till  my 
 limb  becomes  greatly  inflamed,  and  my 
 general  health  is  materially  affected,  is 
 tliere  a  person  in  the  world  that  would  not 
 call  me  a  fool  ?  Now  such  a  fool  is  he, 
 who,  by  dwelling  upon  little  injuries,  or 
 insults,  or  provocations,  causes  them  to 
 agitate  and  inflame  his  mind.  How  much 
 better  were  it  to  put  a  bandage  over  the 
 wound,  and  never  look  at  it  again. 
 
 Simeon. 
 INJURIES— Forgiving. 
 
 When  Luther  had  wofuUy  wronged  and 
 reviled  Calvin,  -'Well,"  said  Calvin,  "let 
 Luther  hate  me,  and  call  me  devil  a 
 thousand  times,  yet  I  will  love  him,  and 
 acknowledge  him  to  be  a  precious  servant 
 of  God."  This  was  an  excellent  temper  of 
 Calvin,  and,  truly,  such  a  frame  of  spirit, 
 such  a  sweet  composure  of  the  soul,  as  to 
 forgive  and  forget,  to  pass  by  offences,  to 
 leave  all  to  God,  not  to  answer  wrath  with 
 wrath,  nut  to  study  revenge,  not  to  be 
 mindful  of  injuries  received,  is  all  through 
 the  Scriptures  commanded ;  by  God  Him- 
 self commended,  and  by  every  good  Chris- 
 tian to  be  carefully  practised.         Spencer. 
 
 As  a  Christian  should  do  no  injuries  to 
 others,  so  he  should  forgive  the  injuries 
 that  others  do  to  him.  'Tis  to  be  like 
 God,  who  is  a  good-giving  God,  and  a  sin- 
 forgiving  God.  Venning. 
 
 INJURIES— Meeting. 
 
 If  men  wound  you  with  injuries,  meet 
 them  with  patience;  hasty  words  rankle 
 the  wound,  soft  language  dresses  it,  for- 
 giveness cures  it,  and  oblivion  takes  away 
 tiie  scar.  It  is  more  noble  by  silence  to 
 avoid  an  injury  than  by  argument  to  over- 
 come it.  «^.  Beaumont. 
 
 INJURIES— Proclaiming. 
 
 If  a  bee  stings  you,  will  you  go  to  the 
 hive  and  destroy  it  ?  Would  not  a  thou- 
 sand come  upon  you?  If  you  receive  a 
 trifling  injury,  do  not  go  about  the  streets 
 proclaiming  it,  and  be  anxious  to  avenge 
 it.  Let  it  drop.  It  is  wisdom  to  say 
 little  respecting  the  injuries  you  may  have 
 received.  Anon. 
 
 INJURIES— Slighting. 
 
 Slight  small  injuries,  and  they  will  be- 
 
 come none  at  all. 
 
 T.  Fuller. 
 
 INJURY— Punishment  of. 
 
 The  greatest  punishment  of  injury  is 
 the  conviction  of  having  done  it;  and  no 
 man  sutlers  more  than  he  that  is  turned 
 over  to  the  pain  of  repentance.  A  great 
 man  having  injured  a  philosopher,  sent  his 
 
 servant  to  entreat  him  not  to  write  against 
 him,  by  whom  lie  returned  the  answer, 
 "That  he  was  not  at  leisure  even  to  thiidc 
 of  him."  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 INJUSTICE— Panished. 
 
 Cambyses,  king  of  Persia,  was  remark- 
 able for  the  severity  of  his  government, 
 and  his  inexorable  regard  to  justice.  This 
 prince  had  a  particular  favorite,  whom 
 he  made  a  judge;  and  this  judge  reckoned 
 himself  so  secure  in  the  credit  he  had  with 
 his  master,  that,  without  ceremony,  causes 
 were  bought  and  sold  in  the  courts  of 
 judicature  as  openly  as  provisions  in  the 
 market.  But  when  Cambyses  was  in- 
 formed of  these  proceedings,  enraged  to 
 find  his  friendship  so  ungratefully  abused, 
 the  honour  of  his  government  prostituted, 
 and  the  liberty  and  property  of  his  sub- 
 jects sacrificed  to  the  avarice  of  this 
 wretched  minion,  he  ordered  him  to  be 
 seized  and  publicly  degradtd;  after  which 
 he  commanded  his  skin  to  be  stripped  over 
 his  ears,  and  the  seat  of  government  to  be 
 covered  with  it,  as  a  warning  to  others.  At 
 the  same  time,  to  convince  the  world  that 
 this  severity  proceeded  only  from  the  love 
 of  justice,  he  permitted  the  son  to  succeed 
 his  father  in  the  honours  and  office  of 
 prime  minister.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 INJUSTICE— Unhappiness  of. 
 
 Whatever  is  unjust  is  so  far  from  tend- 
 ing to  promote,  that  it  destroys  our  hap- 
 piness ;  for  whatever  is  unjust  is  contrary 
 to  the  Divine  ivill :  but  it  is  not  possible 
 that  we  should  become  happy  by  resisting 
 that  will;  because  of  this  will  our  happi- 
 ness is  the  immediate  object.  God  is  not 
 a  tyrant,  proud  of  uncontrollable  power, 
 who  imposes  capricious  laws  only  as  tests 
 of  our  obedience,  and  to  make  us  feel  the 
 weight  of  His  yoke ;  all  His  precepts  are 
 lessons  which  teach  us  how  to  be  happy. 
 But  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  we  should 
 be  just;  from  whence  it  follows,  that  no 
 true  happiness  can  be  acquired  by  those 
 who  are  unjust.  Ibid. 
 
 INJUSTICE— Worse  than  Poverty. 
 
 Artibarzimes,  an  officer  of  Artaxerxes, 
 king  of  Persia,  begged  his  majesty  to 
 confer  a  favour  upon  him,  which,  if  com- 
 plied with,  would  be  an  act  of  injustice. 
 The  king  being  informed  that  the  promise 
 of  a  cousideralde  sum  of  money  was  the 
 only  motive  that  induced  the  officer  to 
 so  unreasonable  a  request,  ordered  his  trea- 
 surer to  give  him  thirty  thousand  dariuses, 
 being  a  present  of  equal  value  with  that 
 which  he  was  to  have  received.  Giving 
 him  the  order  for  the  money,  "  Here, 
 take,"  says  the  king,  "this  token  of  my 
 friendship  for  you  ;  a  gift  of  this  nature 
 
INNOCENCE  -INSPIRATIOir. 
 
 4S9 
 
 cannot  make  me  poor,  but  complying  with 
 your  request  would  make  me  poor  mdeed, 
 for  it  would  make  me  uniust."  Ibid. 
 
 INNOCENCE— Courage  in. 
 
 There  is  no  courage  but  in  innocence; 
 
 No  constancy  but  in  an  honest  cause. 
 
 Southern. 
 INNOCENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 luuocence  is  acting  in  perfect  conso- 
 nance to  the  law,  without  incurring  guilt 
 or  consequent  punishment.  C.  Buck. 
 
 INNOCENCE— Excellence  of. 
 
 Innocence  is  like  polished  armour,  it 
 adorns  aud  it  defends.  Dr.  South. 
 
 INNOCENCE— Influence  of. 
 
 It  is  a  marvellous  thing  to  see  how  a 
 pure  and  innocent  heart  purifies  all  that  it 
 approaches.  The  most  ferocious  natures 
 are  soothed  and  tamed  by  innocence.  And 
 so  with  human  beings,  there  is  a  delicacy 
 so  pure  that  vicious  men  in  its  presence 
 become  almost  pure;  all  of  purity  wliich  is 
 in  them  is  brought  out ;  like  attaches  to 
 like.  The  pure  heart  becomes  a  centre  of 
 attraction,  around  which  similar  atoms 
 gather,  and  from  which  dissimilar  ones 
 are  repelled.  A  corrupt  heart  elicits  in 
 an  hour  all  that  is  bad  in  us ;  a  spiritual 
 one  brings  out  and  draws  to  itself  all  that 
 is  best  and  purest.  Such  was  Clirist.  He 
 stood  in  the  world  the  light  of  the  world, 
 to  which  all  sparks  of  light  gradually 
 gatliered.  He  stood  in  the  presence  of 
 impurity,  and  men  became  pure.  Note 
 this  iu  the  history  of  Zaccheus.  In  answer 
 to  the  invitation  of  the  Son  of  Man,  he 
 says,  "  Behold,  Lord,  the  half  of  my  goods 
 I  give  to  the  poor,  and  if  I  have  done 
 wrong  to  any  man  I  restore  him  fourfold." 
 So  also  the  scribe,  "  Well,  Master,  Thou 
 hast  well  said,  there  is  one  God,  and  there 
 is  none  other  than  He."  "  If  I  be  lifted 
 up  from  the  earth,  I  will  draw  all  men 
 unto  me."  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 INNOCENCE— Instinct  of. 
 
 Just  as  the  dove  trembles  at  the  ap- 
 proach of  the  hawk,  and  the  young  calf 
 shudders  at  the  lion  never  seen  before,  so 
 innocence  shrinks  instinctively  from  what 
 is  wrong  by  the  same  Divine  instinct. 
 
 Ibid. 
 INNOCENCE —Persecuted. 
 
 Then  the  Shepherds  had  the  Pilgrims  to 
 auiither  placte,  called  Mount  Innocence,  and 
 there  they  saw  a  man  clothed  all  in  white ; 
 and  two  men.  Prejudice  and  Ill-will,  con- 
 tinually casting  dirt  upon  him.  Now, 
 behold,  the  dirt,  whatsoever  they  cast  at 
 him,  would  in  a  little  time  fall  off  again, 
 and  his  garment  would  look  as  clear  as  if 
 
 no  dirt  had  been  east  tliereat.  Then  said 
 the  Pilgrims,  What  means  this  ?  The 
 Shepherds  answered.  This  man  is  named 
 Godly-man,  and  this  garment  is  to  show 
 tlie  innocency  of  his  life.  Now,  those  that 
 flirow  dirt  at  him  are  such  as  hate  his 
 well-doing;  but,  as  you  see,  the  dirt  will 
 not  stick  upon  his  clothes ;  so  it  shall  be 
 with  him  that  liveth  innocently  in  the 
 world.  Whoever  they  be  that  would  make 
 such  men  dirty,  they  labour  all  in  vain  ; 
 for  God,  by  that  a  little  time  is  spent, 
 will  cause  that  their  innocence  shall  break 
 forth  as  the  light,  and  their  righteousness 
 as  the  noon-day.  Banyan. 
 
 Against  the  head  which  innocence  secures. 
 Insidious  malice  aims  her  darts  in  vain, 
 Turn'd  backward  by  the  powerful  breath 
 of  heaven.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 INNOCENCE- Sign  of. 
 
 Innocence  unmov'd 
 At  a  false  accusation  doth  the  more 
 Confii'm  itself;   and  guilt  is  best  discover'd 
 By  its  own  fears.  Nahb. 
 
 INNOCENCE— Vindicated. 
 
 It  is  recorded  in  history  that  a  beautiful 
 maiden,  named  Blanche,  the  serf  of  au 
 ancient  nobleman,  was  wooed  by  her  mas- 
 ter's son.  Not  admiring  his  character, 
 she  scorned  his  suit.  Upon  this,  his  course 
 of  love  turned  to  bitter  hatred.  Just 
 then  a  precious  string  of  pearls  confided 
 to  the  maiden's  care  was  lost.  Her 
 pseudo-lover  charged  her  with  the  theft, 
 and,  in  accordance  with  the  customs  of 
 that  rude  age,  she  was  doomed  to  die. 
 On  the  day  of  the  execution,  as  the  in- 
 nocent girl  knelt  to  offer  her  dying  prayer, 
 a  flash  of  lightning  struck  a  statue  of 
 Justice,  which  adorned  the  marketplace, 
 to  the  dust.  From  a  scattered  bird's  nest, 
 built  in  a  crevice  of  the  image,  dropped 
 the  lost  pearls — thus  declaring  her  inno- 
 cence. In  a  moment  the  exultant  crowd 
 rushed  to  the  scalibld,  demanding  her  re- 
 lease. There  she  knelt  beside  the  block, 
 pale  and  beautiful,  and  with  a  smile  of 
 peace  upon  her  lips.  They  spoke — she 
 answered  not.  They  touched  her— she 
 was  dead !  To  preserve  her  memory,  they 
 raised  a  statue  there ;  and  to  this  day, 
 when  men  gaze  upon  her  image,  they  con- 
 demn her  oppressor ;  they  praise  her  for 
 the  purity  of  her  character ;  they  recognise 
 the  Justice  of  Him  wliose  lightnings  tes- 
 tified to  her  innocence.  W.  Smith, 
 
 INSPIRATION— Definitions  of. 
 
 Inspiration  isthatDivineinfluencewhich, 
 accompanying  the  sacred  writers  equally 
 in  all  they  wrote,  secured  the  infallible 
 truth  of  their  writings  in  every  part,  both 
 in  idea  and  expression,  and  determined  the 
 
490 
 
 INSPmATION— INSTITUTIONS. 
 
 selection  and  distribution  of  their  material 
 according  to  the  Divine  purpose.  The  na- 
 ture of  this  influence,  just  as  the  nature  of 
 the  Divine  operation  upon  the  human  soul 
 in  providence,  in  regeneration  or  in  sancti- 
 fication,  is,  of  course,  entirely  inscrutable'. 
 The  result  of  this  influence,  however,  is 
 both  plain  and  certain,  vii.,  to  i-ender  their 
 writings  an  infallible  rule  of  faith  and 
 practice.  A.  A. 
 
 Inspiration  may  be  best  defined,  accord- 
 ing to  the  representations  of  the  Scriptures 
 themselves,  as  an  extraordinary  Divine 
 agency  upon  teachers  while  giving  instruc- 
 tion, whether  oral  or  written,  by  which 
 they  were  taught  what  and  how  they  should 
 write  or  speak.  Dr.  Kna^p. 
 
 What  is  meant  by  "plenary  inspiration?" 
 A  Divine  influence  full  and  sufficient  to 
 secure  its  end.  The  end  in  this  case  se- 
 cured is  the  perfect  infallibility  of  the  I 
 Scriptures  in  every  part,  as  a  record  ofi 
 fact  and  doctrine,  both  in  thought  and 
 verbal  expression ;  so  that,  although  they 
 come  to  us  through  the  instrumentality  of 
 the  minds,  hearts,  imaginations, consciences, 
 and  wills  of  men,  they  are  nevertheless  in 
 the  strictest  sense  the  Word  of  God. 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 INSPIRATION— Divine. 
 
 An  instrument,  whether  it  be  a  pipe  or 
 a  harp,  maketh  a  distinction  in  the  tunes 
 and  sounds,  which  distinction  is  well  per- 
 ceived of  the  hearer,  the  instrument  itself 
 understanding  not  what  is  piped  or  played. 
 The  prophets  and  holy  men  of  God  not  so. 
 **I  opened  my  mouth,"  saith  Ezekiel,  "and 
 God  reached  me  a  scroll,  saying,  Son  of 
 man,  cause  thy  belly  to  eat,  and  fill  thy 
 bowels  with  this  I  give  thee.  I  ate  it, 
 and  it  was  sweet  in  my  mouth  as  honey," 
 saith  the  prophet.  Yea,  sweeter  I  am  per- 
 suaded than  either  honey  or  the  honeycomb. 
 For  herein  they  were  not  like  harps  or 
 lutes,  but  they  felt  the  power  and  strength 
 of  their  own  words.  When  they  spake  of 
 our  peace,  every  corner  of  their  hearts  was 
 filled  with  joy.  When  they  prophesied  of 
 mourning,  lamentation,  and  woes,  to  fall 
 upon  us,  they  wept  in  the  bitterness  and 
 indignation  of  spirit,  the  arm  of  the  Lord 
 being  mighty  and  strong  upon  them. 
 
 Hoolcer. 
 
 INSPIKATION  AND  REVELATION. 
 
 Revelation  properly  signifies  the  super- 
 natural communication  of  any  truth  not 
 before  known.  This  revelation  may  be 
 made  either  immediately  to  the  mind  of 
 the  recipient,  or  mediately,  through  signs 
 or  visions,  or  through  the  intervention  of 
 an  inspired  prophet.  Inspiration,  on  the 
 Other  baud,   signifies   simply  that   Divine 
 
 influence  which  renders  n  writer  or  speaker 
 infallible  in  communicating  truth,  whether 
 previously  known  or  not.  Some  men  have 
 received  revelations  who  were  not  inspired 
 to  communicate  them ;  e.  g.  Abraham. 
 Nearly  all  the  sacred  writers  were  inspired 
 to  communicate  with  infallible  accuracy 
 much  that  they  knew  by  natural  means 
 such  as  historical  facts;  much  that  they 
 reached  by  the  natural  use  of  their  facul- 
 ties, such  as  logical  deduction ;  and  much 
 that  was  suggested  by  their  own  natural 
 afiections.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 INSTABILITY— Human. 
 
 St.  Augustine  saith.  We  are  all  here  as 
 David  was  in  the  desert  of  Idumea;  our 
 life  is  a  perpetual  alteration,  which  will 
 never  be  settled  while  we  live.  If  we  be 
 weary  we  desire  rest,  and  if  we  rest  over- 
 long,  our  bed  becomes  troublesome,  though 
 it  should  be  all  of  roses.  Then  again,  we 
 thirst  to  be  in  action  and  business,  which 
 also  in  a  short  time  tires  us,  and  puts  us 
 into  another  alteration,  and  that  carries  us 
 again  to  desire  to  do  nothing.  All  our 
 life  goeth  like  Penelope's  v/eh ;  what  one 
 hour  eff'ects  the  next  destroys.   N.  Caussin. 
 
 INSTINCT— Definition  of. 
 
 Instinct  is  that  power  of  volition  or  im- 
 pulse produced  by  the  peculiar  nature  of 
 an  animal,  which  prompts  it  to  do  certain 
 things  independent  of  all  instruction  or 
 experience  and  without  deliberation,  where 
 such  act  is  immediately  connected  with  its 
 own  individual  preservation,  or  with  that 
 of  its  kind.  Maunder. 
 
 INSTITUTIONS— Natural  and  Positive. 
 
 Of  the  positive  institutions  of  religion, 
 even  of  those  of  Divine  appointment,  what- 
 ever sanctity  may  be  derived  to  them  from 
 the  will  of  God,  which  is  indeed  the  su- 
 preme rule  and  proper  foundation  of  human 
 duty — whatever  importance  may  belong  to 
 them  as  necessary  means  for  the  attain- 
 ment of  the  noblest  end,  the  improvement 
 of  man's  moral  character,  and  the  conse- 
 quent advancement  of  his  happiness — yet 
 we  have  our  Lord's  authority  to  say,  that 
 the  observance  of  them  is  not  itself  the 
 end  for  which  man  was  created.  Man  was 
 not  made  for  these.  Of  natural  duties  we 
 aflSrm  the  contrary.  The  acquisition  of 
 that  virtue  which  consists  in  the  habitual 
 love  and  practice  of  them,  is  the  very  final 
 cause  of  man's  existence.  The  extrinsic 
 worth  and  seemliness  of  that  virtue  is  so 
 great,  that  it  may  be  presumed  to  be  the 
 motive  which  determined  the  will  of  God 
 to  create  beings  with  capacities  for  the 
 attainment.  These,  therefore,  are  the 
 things  for  which  man  was  made.  They 
 were  not  made  for  him.  They  derive  not 
 their  importance  from  a  temporary  sub- 
 
INSULT— IHTELLECTUAL  AND  CHUISTIAN  CULTURE. 
 
 491 
 
 serviency  to  the  interests  of  man  in  his 
 present  condition— to  the  happiness  and 
 preservation  of  the  individual  or  of  the 
 kind.  They  are  no  part  of  an  arbitrary 
 discipline,  contrived,  after  man  was  formed, 
 for  the  trial  and  exercise  of  his  obedience. 
 Their  worth  is  in  the  things  themselves. 
 In  authority  they  are  higher  than  law,  in 
 time  older  than  creation,  in  worth  more 
 valuable  than  the  universe.  The  positive 
 precepts  of  religion,  on  the  contrary,  are 
 of  the  nature  of  political  institutions, 
 which  are  good  or  bad  in  relation  only  to 
 the  interests  of  particular  communities. 
 These,  therefore,  were  made  for  man. 
 
 Bp.  Rorsley. 
 INSULT. 
 
 Insult  not  over  misery,  deride  not  in- 
 firmity, nor  despise  deformity;  the  first 
 shows  your  inhumanity,  the  second  your 
 folly,  the  third  your  pride.  The  same 
 Being  that  made  him  miserable,  made  you 
 happy  to  lament  him  ;  He  that  made  him 
 Avcak,  made  you  strong  to  support  him ; 
 He  that  made  him  deformed,  gave  you 
 favour  to  be  humble.  He  that  is  not  sen- 
 sible of  another's  unhappiness  is  a  living 
 stone ;  but  he  that  makes  misery  the  object 
 of  his  triumph,  is  an  incarnate  devil. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 INTELLECT— Definition  of. 
 
 Intellect  is  that  faculty  of  the  human 
 mind  which  receives  or  comprehends  the 
 ideas  communicated  to  it,  otherwise  called 
 tlie  understanding.  Maunder. 
 
 INTELLECT— under  the  Fall. 
 
 All  those  arts,  rarities,  and  inventions 
 which  vulgar  minds  gaze  at,  the  ingenious 
 pursue,  and  all  admire,  are  but  the  relics 
 of  an  intellect  defaced  with  sin  and  time. 
 We  admire  it  now,  only  as  antiquaries  do 
 a  piece  of  old  coin,  for  the  stamp  it  once 
 bore,  and  not  for  those  vanishing  linea- 
 ments and  disappearing  draughts  that  re- 
 main upon  it  at  present.  And  certainly 
 tliat  must  needs  have  been  very  glorious, 
 the  decays  of  which  are  so  admirable.  He 
 that  is  comely  when  old  and  decrepid, 
 surely  was  very  beautiful  when  he  was 
 young.  An  Aristotle  was  but  the  rubbish 
 of  an  Adam,  and  Athens  but  the  rudiments 
 of  Paradise.  Br.  South. 
 
 INTELLECT— Influence   of  Moral  Nature 
 on. 
 The  nature  of  man  is  essentially  moral, 
 and  when  intellect  shoots  up  to  eminence, 
 it  depends  on  the  moral  nature  whether  it 
 is  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  the  species,  a 
 joy  or  a  trouble  to  the  individual.    Accord- 
 ing to  the  moral  nature  are  the  intellectual 
 powers  directed,  and  in  man  often  waste- 
 fully,  often  hurtfully — as  to  the  great  ma- 
 jority, in  ways  far  below  their  capability. 
 W.  Arthur. 
 
 INTELLECT— of  the  Wise. 
 
 The  intellect  of  the  wise  is  like  glass;  it 
 admits  the  light  of  heaven  and  refl^ects  it. 
 
 Rare. 
 INTELLECTUAL  CULTURE— alone. 
 
 Paris,  with  her  academy,  her  columns, 
 her  galleries  of  paintings,  her  statuary,  her 
 cathedrals,  her  philosophers,  her  oratories, 
 her  taste  and  fashion,  her  everything  that 
 is  deemed  a  mark  of  high  intellectual  cul- 
 ture— Paris,  with  all  these,  is  the  brothel 
 of  nations — a  city  where  every  species  of 
 moral  corruption  festers  and  infects  the 
 inhabitants,  and  spreads  moral  contagion 
 over  the  continent. 
 
 I  have  stood  in  her  galleries  at  Ver- 
 sailles and  the  Louvre,  and  felt  in  my  soul 
 that  her  models  of  art  were  a  curse  to  the 
 people.  They  are  adapted  to  gild  the 
 memory  of  those  who,  being  corrupt  in 
 heart  and  profligate  in  practice,  are  now 
 suflering  the  hell  that  awaits  selfish  and 
 impure  minds.  Their  undraped  statuary 
 imparts  the  infection  of  the  old  world's 
 guilt  to  the  new.  The  pictures  of  the  old 
 masters,  and  from  them  down  even  to 
 David,  sanctify  tlie  deeds  of  devils  under 
 the  names  of  kings  and  cardinals.  Thus 
 the  popular  mind  is  led  to  reverence  des- 
 pots and  evil-doers.  Their  popular  religion 
 is  as  impure  as  the  orgies  of  Ephesus,  and 
 tlieir  moral  corruption  as  great  as  hers. 
 In  my  opinion,  while  art  might  lose  some- 
 thing, progress  and  morality  would  gain 
 much,  if  the  next  outbreak  in  Paris  should 
 destroy  all  the  public  galleries  in  the  city. 
 What  is  true  of  Paris  is  true  likewise  of 
 all  the  great  cities  of  the  continent  where 
 the  people  are  without  the  light  of  revela- 
 tion. Culture  arid  crime  prevail  together, 
 to  some  extent,  even  in  Protestant  cities; 
 but  there  is  as  much  moral  difference  be- 
 tween the  Protestant  cities  of  Geneva  and 
 Aberdeen  on  the  one  hand,  and  Florence 
 and  Naples  on  the  other,  as  there  is 
 between  daylight  and  darkness. 
 
 /.  B.  WaJl-er. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL  AND  CHRISTIAN  CUL- 
 TURE. 
 Intellectual  culture  without  Christian 
 culture  is  a  painted  harlot  who  lives  in 
 moral  night,  and,  decorated  in  the  tinsel 
 of  art  and  lettei-s,  allures  the  weak  and 
 wicked  to  hell.  Were  there  no  hope  for 
 mankind  but  that  which  art,  letters,  and 
 intellectual  culture  produces,  despotism  and 
 darkness  would  reign  over  the  earth,  and 
 the  hope  of  moral  progress,  of  human  free- 
 dom, and  human  happiness,  might  be  aban- 
 doned for  ever.  Men  might  be  as  culti- 
 vated as  Robespierre,  and  yet  become  as 
 dark -minded  and  as  desperate  as  he.  They 
 might  be  as  polished  externally  as  was  Dr. 
 Webster,  while  yet  internally  they  might 
 
INTELLECTUAL  PLEASURES— IKTEITTION. 
 
 492 
 
 be  as  w'lc'kecl.  John  Newton  had  the  same 
 muid  and  the  same  intellectual  culture 
 when  engai^ed  in  the  slave  trade,  that  he 
 afterward  possessed  when  his  muse  charmed 
 and  purified  the  hearts  of  all  who  listened 
 to  liim. 
 
 In  many  and  striking  forms  Christ 
 taught  men  the  ditFeretice  between  iutel- 
 leciual  and  Christian  culture.  The  one 
 without  the  other  is  "  the  whited  sepul- 
 chre," "  the  hidden  grave,"  the  darkness 
 or  "  night "  of  the  soul.  The  one  pertains 
 to  man's  moral  nature — his  afl'ections  and 
 his  conscience — the  other  to  his  intelli- 
 gence. The  one  without  the  other  engen- 
 ders selfishness  and  hypocrisy ;  but  intel- 
 lectual culture,  used  and  sacrificed  by  a 
 living  conscience  and  pure  afi'ections,  se- 
 cures all  human  good  to  its  possessor,  and 
 leads  him  to  labour  for  the  good  of  the 
 world.  When  the  intellect  moves  to  the 
 work  of  human  elevation,  the  power  which 
 gives  the  impulse  and  secures  permanency 
 is  generated  in  the  heart  and  conscience. 
 Men  with  intellectual  light  alone  may 
 make  advances  without  moral  principles, 
 as  they  have  done  often  in  France,  South 
 America,  and  elsewhere ;  but  without 
 moral  principle,  which  Gospel  faith  pro- 
 duces, permanent  progress  is  impossilile. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL  PLEASURES. 
 
 Man  in  his  lowest  state  has  no  pleasures 
 but  those  of  sense,  and  no  wants  but  those 
 of  appetite;  afterwards,  when  society  is 
 divided  into  diii'erent  ranks,  and  some  are 
 appointed  to  labour  for  the  support  of 
 others,  those  whom  their  superiority  sets 
 free  from  labour  begin  to  look  for  intellec- 
 tual entertainments.  Thus  while  the  shep- 
 herds were  attending  their  flocks,  their 
 masters  made  the  first  astronomical  obser- 
 vations; so  nmsic  is  said  to  have  had  its 
 origin  from  a  man  at  leisure  Hstening  to 
 the  strokes  of  a  hammer.  As  the  senses 
 in  the  lowest  state  of  nature  are  necesjary 
 to  direct  us  to  our  support,  when  that 
 support  is  once  secure  there  is  danger  in 
 following  them  farther;  to  him  who  has 
 no  rule  of  action  but  the  gratification  of 
 the  senses  plenty  is  always  dangerous ;  it 
 is  therefore  necessary  to  the  happiness  of 
 individuals,  and  still  more  necessary  to  the 
 security  of  society,  that  the  mind  should 
 be  elevated  to  the  idea  of  general  beauty, 
 and  the  contemplation  of  general  truth; 
 by  this  pursuit  the  mind  is  always  carried 
 forward  in  search  of  something  more  ex- 
 cellent than  it  finds,  and  obtains  its  proper 
 superiority  over  the  common  senses  of  life 
 by  learning  to  feel  itself  capable  of  higher 
 aims  and  nobler  enjoyments.  In  this  gra- 
 dual exultation  of  human  nature  every  art 
 contributes  its  contingent  towards  the 
 general  supply  of  mental  pleasure.    What- 
 
 ever abstracts  the  thoughts  from  sensnal 
 gratifications,  whatever  teaches  us  to  look 
 for  happiness  within  ourselves,  must  ad- 
 vance in  some  measure  the  dignity  of  our 
 nature.  Perhaps  there  is  no  higher  proof 
 of  the  excellency  of  man  than  this,  that,  to 
 a  mind  properly  cultivated,  whatever  is 
 bounded  is  little.  The  mind  is  continually 
 labouring  to  advance,  step  by  step,  through 
 successive  gradations  of  excellence  towards 
 perfection,  which  is  dimly  seen  at  a  great 
 though  not  hopeless  distance,  and  which 
 we  must  always  follow  because  we  never 
 can  attain;  but  the  pursuit  rewards  itself, 
 one  truth  teaches  another,  and  our  store  is 
 always  increasing  though  nature  can  never 
 be  exhausted.  >SV;-  Joshua  Eet/nolds. 
 
 Intellectual  pleasure  is  as  much  more 
 noble  than  that  of  sense  as  an  immortal 
 spirit  is  more  noble  than  a  clod  of  earth. 
 The  pleasure  of  sense  is  drossy,  feculent ; 
 the  pleasure  of  the  mind  refined  and  pure ; 
 that  is  faint  and  languid,  this  lively  and 
 vigorous ;  tliat  scant  and  limited,  this 
 ample  and  enlarged;  that  temporary  and 
 fading,  this  durable  and  permanent ;  that 
 flashy,  superficial,  this  solid  and  intense; 
 that  raving  and  disti-acted,  this  calm  and 
 composed.  John  Howe. 
 
 INTEMPERANCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Intemperance  is  excess  in  eating  or 
 drinking.  This  is  the  general  idea  of  it; 
 but  we  may  observe  that  whatever  indul- 
 gence undermines  the  health,  impairs  the 
 senses,  inflames  the  passions,  clouds  and 
 sullies  the  reason,  perverts  the  judgment, 
 enslaves  the  will,  or  in  any  way  disorders 
 or  debilitates  the  faculties,  may  be  ranked 
 under  this  vice.  C.  lluc/c. 
 
 INTENTION— Good. 
 
 A  good  intention  will  no  more  make  a 
 truth,  than  a  lair  mark  will  make  a  good 
 shoot.  8£urstoive. 
 
 INTENTION— Holy. 
 
 Holy  intention  is  to  the  actions  of  a  man 
 that  which  the  soul  is  to  the  body,  or  form 
 to  its  matter,  or  the  root  to  the  tree,  or 
 the  sun  to  the  world,  or  the  fountain  to  a 
 river,  or  tlie  base  to  a  pillar ;  for  without 
 these  the  body  is  a  dead  trunk,  the  matter 
 is  sluggish,  the  tree  is  a  block,  the  world 
 is  darkness,  the  river  is  quickly  dry,  the 
 pillar  rushes  into  flatness  and  ruin,  and  the 
 action  is  sinful,  or  unprofitable  and  vain. 
 The  poor  farmer  that  gave  a  dish  of  cold 
 water  to  Artaxerxes  was  rewarded  with  a 
 golden  goblet ;  and  he  that  gives  the  same 
 to  a  disciple,  in  the  name  of  a  disciple, 
 sliall  have  a  crown;  but  if  he  gives  water 
 in  despite,  when  the  disciple  needs  wine  or 
 a  cordial,  his  reward  shall  be  to  want  that 
 water  to  cool  his  tongue,  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
nrrENTIOIT— INT0LE2ArCE. 
 
 493 
 
 INTENTION— Interim  of. 
 Between  the  acting  of  a  dreadful  thing 
 And  the  first  motion,  all  the  interim  is 
 Like  a  phantasma,  or  a  hideous  dream : 
 The  genius,  and  the  mortal  instruments 
 Are  then  in  council ;  and  the  state  of  man. 
 Like  to  a  little  kingdom,  suffers  then 
 The  natui-e  of  an  insurrection. 
 
 ShaTcespeare. 
 INTENTIONS— Wicked. 
 When  men's  intents  are  wicked,  their  guilt 
 
 haunts  them, 
 But  when  they're  just,  they're  arm'd,  and 
 
 nothing  daunts  them.  Middleton. 
 
 INTERCESSION  OF  CKEIST— Definition 
 of  the. 
 It  is  a  solemn  addi-ess  of  our  blessed 
 Saviour  to  God  the  Father  in  our  behalf, 
 wherein  by  presenting  to  Him  His  own 
 sacrificed  body,  and  by  continuing  and 
 perpetuating  the  presentation  of  it,  He 
 doth  effectually  move  and  solicit  Him  gra- 
 ciously to  receive  and  accept  our  prayer, 
 and  to  empower  Him  to  bestow  on  us  all 
 those  graces  and  favours,  which,  in  con- 
 sideration of  His  sacrifice,  God  hatli  pro- 
 mised ns.  J.  Scott. 
 
 INTERCESSION  OP  CHRIST— Method  of 
 the. 
 
 It  was  when  the  high  priest  entered 
 witli  the  blood  and  incense  within  the  veil 
 before  the  mercy  seat  that  he  made  inter- 
 cession for  the  people.  The  very  present- 
 ing of  the  blood  and  incense  was  an  act  of 
 intercession,  whether  words  were  used  or 
 not.  It  was  done  in  behalf  of  Israel,  for 
 the  purpose  of  averting  the  displeasure  and 
 conciliating  the  favour  of  Jehovah.  With 
 reference  to  this,  Jesus  is  represented  as 
 fulfilling  in  heaven  this  part  of  the  priestly 
 functions. 
 
 In  what  precise  manner  His  intercession 
 is  carried  on  it  may  not  be  easy  for  us 
 with  certainty  to  determine.  It  is  evident, 
 from  the  type  just  alluded  to,  that  there 
 may  be  intercession  in  action  as  well  as  in 
 words.  If  a  general,  who  had  fought  the 
 battles  of  his  country  and  had  received 
 many  a  wound,  were  presenting  a  petition 
 to  his  sovereign  on  behalf  of  any  of  his 
 offending  subjects,  what  could  be  a  more 
 eft'ective  intercession  than  the  silent  baring 
 of  his  bosom  and  pointing  to  his  scars  ? 
 The  Scriptures  toll  us  in  plain  terms  that 
 He  does  make  intercession,  that  He  does 
 still  '•  appear  in  the  presence  of  God  for 
 us."  We  know  that  even  with  ourselves 
 the  utterance  of  words  is  not  necessary  to 
 prayer.  How  strikingly  is  this  expressed 
 by  Paul  in  speaking  of  the  agency  of  the 
 Sjiirit  in  dictating  the  inward  intercessions 
 of  the  saints  (Rom.  viii,  26,  27).  Jesus 
 may  intercede  without  words,  simply  by 
 
 the  presentation  of  His  sacrifice,  that  is. 
 Himself.  The  Father,  knowing  all  the 
 blessings  which  He  'esires  for  His  peo])le, 
 confers  them  for  His  sake.  But  for  aught; 
 we  can  tell  there  may  be  words.  We  have 
 an  exquisitely  interesting  and  delightful 
 specimen  of  the  intercession  of  Jesus  on 
 earth  (John  xvli).  He  shows  us  there 
 what  the  blessings  are  which  He  desires- 
 on  behalf  of  His  people  ;  and  for  these 
 blessings,  terminating  in  their  "being  with 
 Him  where  He  is.  to  behold  His  glory,"' 
 He  still  intercedes ;  whether  verbally  or 
 silently  in  symbolical  act,  is  a  matter  of 
 little  moment.  Dr.  Wardlaw, 
 
 INTERCESSOR  AND  MEDIATOR. 
 
 To  mediate  and  intercede  are  both  con- 
 ciliatory acts  ;  the  intercessor  and  mediator 
 are  equals  or  even  Inferiors;  one  inter- 
 cedes or  interposes  for  the  removal  of  evil  j 
 one  mediates  for  the  attainment  of  good,. 
 Christ  is  our  Intercessor,  to  avert  from  us 
 the  consequences  of  our  guilt;  He  is  our 
 Mediator,  to  obtain  for  us  the  blessings  of 
 grace  and  salvation.  An  intercessor  only 
 pleads;  a  mediator  guarantees;  he  takes, 
 upon  himself  a  responsibility.  Christ  is- 
 our  Intercessor  by  virtue  of  His  relation- 
 ship with  the  Fa1;her;  He  is  our  Mediator 
 by  virtue  of  His  atonement,  by  which  act 
 He  takes  upon  Himself  the  sins  of  all  who 
 are  truly  penitent.  O.  Crabb, 
 
 INTEREST. 
 
 Interest  speaks  all  manner  of  languages, 
 and  acts  all  sorts  of  parts,  even  that  of 
 impartiality.  Interest  makes  some  people 
 blind  and  others  quick-sighted.  We  pro- 
 mise according  to  our  hopes,  and  perform 
 according  to  our  fears.  Virtues  are  lost  in 
 interest,  as  rivers  are  swallowed  up  in  the 
 sea,  J.  Beaiimont. 
 
 Interest  puts  more  upon  exercising  vir- 
 tues or  vices,  as  the  occasion  requires.  In- 
 terest upon  which  we  generally  lay  the 
 blame  of  all  our  ill  actions,  often  deserves 
 to  be  commended  for  our  good  ones.  He 
 that  trims  between  two  Interests  loses 
 himself  with  both,  when  he  comes  to  be 
 detected,  for  being  true  to  neither.      Ibid. 
 
 INTOLERANCE— Religions. 
 
 All  religious  parties  and  sects  are  con- 
 vinced of  their  own  infallibility.  Each 
 cherishes  the  unhappy  opinion  that,  among 
 the  many  religious  professions,  there  is 
 only  one  which  possesses  theological  truths 
 in  all  their  purity ;  each  despises  and  ab- 
 hors the  rest,  and  accuses  them  of  obsti- 
 nacy; blindness,  obduracy,  and  deceit. 
 Each  sect  imagines  Itself  to  be  in  the  right 
 way,  and  all  the  others  in  error.  Every 
 man  of  a  shallow  mind  is  proud  of  his  in- 
 tolerance, and  regards  everything  that  does 
 
494 
 
 INVITATION— lEEEVERENCE. 
 
 not  correspond  with  his  tenets  as  detestable 
 and  impure. 
 
 It  is  too  often  the  case  that  the  enemies 
 of  a  religion  hate  it  because  they  are  not 
 acquainted  with  it.  They  ascribe  to  their 
 opponents  principles  which  they  abhor,  and 
 tenets  which  never  entered  into  their 
 imaginations.  They  propagate  the  most 
 ridiculous  calumnies  against  the  professors 
 of  the  obuosious  religion.  A  Franconian 
 Catliolic  of  high  rank,  in  the  true  spirit 
 of  religious  intolerance,  gave  this  caution 
 to  his  son  when  setting  out  on  his  travels : 
 "My  son,"  said  the  illustrious  bigot, 
 "  avoid  the  society  of  the  Protestant  eccle- 
 siastics, for  they  are  all  addicted  to  abomi- 
 nable crimes." 
 
 In  the  eyes  of  the  Turks  all  infidels  are 
 dogs,  whose  presence  alone  is  sufficient  to 
 pollute  an  orthodox  Mussulman.  For  this 
 reason  no  Christians  are  permitted  to  re- 
 side in  the  country  of  Hisiaos,  because  the 
 cities  of  Mecca  and  Medina  form  a  part  of 
 it.  Neither  Jews  nor  Christians  are  al- 
 lowed to  be  present  in  Egypt  at  the  opening 
 of  the  canals  of  the  Nile,  lest,  by  their  im- 
 purity, they  should  prevent  the  overflowing 
 of  its  waters. 
 
 The  Mohammedans  are  unjust  towards 
 the  Christians,  and  the  Christians  towards 
 the  Mohammedans.  No  Turk  ever  enter- 
 tained tlie  least  doubt  concerning  the 
 unity  of  the  Godhead;  and  yet  they  have 
 ■been  accused  of  worshipping  the  stars,  and 
 in  many  Christian  books  they  are  termed 
 pagans. 
 
 Thus  mankind,  more  or  less,  shun  and 
 despise,  ridicule  and  condemn  one  another, 
 because  each  professes  the  only  saving  re- 
 ligion. Thus  the  Crusades  swept  away 
 two  millions  of  combatants;  and  they  were 
 undertaken  in  the  true  spirit  of  intolerance, 
 for  the  extermination  of  infidels,  and  for 
 the  confirjination  and  extension  of  the  true 
 faith.  Thus  have  princes  been  stimulated 
 to  convert  the  world  into  a  hell,  and 
 in  the  name  of  a  God  of  mercy  to  per- 
 secute and  torment  those  whom  they 
 ought  to  have  treated  with  love  and 
 compassion.  Whoever  imagines  that 
 another  cannot  possibly  be  a  virtuous 
 man  that  does  not  believe  all  that  he 
 believes ;  whoever  condemns  all  those 
 whose  way  of  tliinlcing  in  religious  matters 
 does  not  correspond  with  his,  will  naturally 
 be  an  enemy  to  the  greatest  part  of  his 
 species. 
 
 Men  ought  not  thus  lightly  to  condemn 
 each  other.  We  shall  be  judged  by  a 
 God  of  love;  He  will  judge  us  according 
 to  the  faithfulness  and  sincerity  with  which 
 we  serve  Him.  The  hope  of  salvation  is 
 not  grounded  on  a  man's  faith,  but  on  his 
 sincerity ;  not  on  his  opinions  and  knov- 
 ledge,  but  on  the  worthiness,  purity,  and 
 integrity  of  his  heart  and  life.    Zimmerman. 
 
 INVITATION— Gracious. 
 
 Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and 
 are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest 
 (Matt,  xi,  28). 
 
 Pilgrim  burden'd  with  thy  sin, 
 Come  the  way  to  Zion's  gate  j 
 Tliere,  till  mercy  lets  thee  in. 
 Knock,  and  weep,  and  watch,  and  wait. 
 
 Knock  ! — He  knows  the  sinner's  cry ; 
 Weep  ! — He  loves  the  mourner's  tears  j 
 Watch! — for  saving  grace  is  nigli; 
 Wait — till  heavenly  light  appears. 
 
 Hark  !  it  is  the  Bridegroom's  voice. 
 Welcome,  pilgrim,  to  thy  rest; 
 Now  within  the  gate  rejoice. 
 Safe,  and  seal'd,  and  bought,  and  blest. 
 
 Safe— from  all  the  lures  of  vice, 
 Seal'd — by  signs  the  chosen  know. 
 Bought — by  love,  and  life  the  price. 
 Blest — the  mighty  debt  to  owe. 
 
 Holy  pilgrim  !  what  for  thee 
 In  a  world  like  this  remain  ? 
 From  thy  guarded  breast  shall  flee 
 Fear,  and  shame,  and  doui)t,  and  pain. 
 
 Fear — the  hope  of  heaven  shall  fly, 
 Shame — from  glory's  view  retire, 
 Doubt — in  certain  rapture  die. 
 Pain — in  endless  bliss  expire.  Anon. 
 
 INVENTIONS. 
 
 Man  hath  found  out  inventions,  to  cheat 
 him  of  the  weariness  of  life. 
 
 To  help  him  to  forget  realities  and  hide 
 the  misery  of  guilt.  Tapper. 
 
 lEEESOLUTION— Definition  of. 
 
 I  am  a  heavy  stone, 
 
 RoU'd  up  a  hill  V)y  a  weak  child ;  T  move 
 
 A  little  up,  and  tumble  back  again. 
 
 Miller. 
 lEEESOLUTION— Folly  of. 
 
 Irresolution  is  a  worse  vice  than  rash- 
 ness. He  that  shoots  best  may  sometimes 
 miss  the  mark  ;  but  he  that  shoots  not  at 
 all  can  never  hit  it.  Irresolution  loosens 
 all  the  joints  of  a  state ;  like  an  ague,  it 
 shakes  not  tliis  or  that  limb,  but  all  the 
 body  is  at  once  in  a  fit.  The  irresolute 
 man  is  lifted  from  one  place  to  another, 
 and  hath  no  place  left  to  rest  on.  He 
 flecks  from  one  egg  to  another ;  so  hatchetli 
 nothing,  but  addles  all  his  actions. 
 
 Feltham. 
 IREEVEEENCE— in  Church. 
 
 He  who  can  enter  a  church,  or  a  chapel, 
 or  any  place  dedicated  to  the  worship  ot 
 God,  as  he  does  his  own  habitation,  or  that 
 of  his  horses,  which  is  a  common  case,  lias, 
 in  my  opinion,  no  proper  notion  of  religious 
 worship,    and    is    never    likely    to    derive 
 
JACOB'S  LADDER— JEHOVAH-JIREH, 
 
 mneh  edification  to  liis  own  sonl  from  at- 
 tendance upon  the  ordinance  of  God. 
 
 Br.  A.  Clarke. 
 
 JACOB'S  LADDER— a  Type  of  Christ. 
 
 I.  Jacob's  ladder,  wliich  he  saw  in  a 
 vision,  stood  upon  the  earth,  but  the  top 
 reached  to  heaven ;  so  Christ,  although  He 
 was  humbled  in  shape  of  sinful  flesh  to  the 
 earth,  as  it  were;  yet  He  was  the  Most 
 Hi<rh  God.  reaching  so  to  heaven. 
 
 II.  The  angels  went  up  and  down  hy  it; 
 so  we  ascend  up  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  God  descends,  as  it  were,  by  Him  also 
 down  to  us. 
 
 III.  The  Lord  stood  above  it,  and  made 
 promises  of  Canaan  to  Jacob ;  so  God  in 
 Christ,  and  through  Him,  hath  made  pro- 
 mises of  heaven,  and  ratified  them  to  us. 
 
 IV.  In  the  place  which  was  called  the 
 house  of  God,  and  gate  of  heaven,  was  the 
 ladder  seen;  so  in  Christ's  Church,  the 
 true  house  of  God,  we  get  a  clear  and  full 
 sight  of  Christ.  Keach. 
 
 JEALOUSY— Character  of. 
 Pale  hag,  infernal  fury,  pleasure's  smart ; 
 Envious  observer,  prying  in  every  part; 
 Suspicious,  fearful,  gazing  still  about  thee  ; 
 O,  would  to  God  that  love  could  be  with- 
 out thee.  Daniel. 
 
 JEALOUSY— Credulity  of. 
 
 Trifles,  light  as  air. 
 Are  to  the  jealous  confirmations  strong 
 As  proofs  of  holy  writ  Shalcespeare. 
 
 With    groundless   fear   he    thus    his    soul 
 
 deceives. 
 What  frenzy  dictates,  jealousy  believes. 
 
 Gay. 
 
 JEALOUSY— EflFects  of. 
 
 O  jealousy. 
 Thou  ugliest  fiend  of  hell !  thy  deadly  venom 
 Preys  on  my  vitals,  turns  the  healthful  hue 
 Of  my  fresh  cheek  to  haggard  sallowness. 
 And  drinks  my  spirit  up,      Hannah  More. 
 
 The  venom  clamours  of  a  jealous  woman 
 Poison   more   deadly   than    a   mad    dog's 
 tooth.  Shakespeare. 
 
 JEALOUSY— not  Love. 
 
 It  is  said  that  jealousy  is  love,  but  T 
 deny  it ;  for  though  jealousy  be  produced 
 by  love,  as  ashes  are  by  fire,  yet  jealousy 
 extinguishes  love,  as  ashes  smother  the 
 flame.  La  Seine  de  Navarre. 
 
 JEALOUSY— Power  of. 
 
 Thou  Jealousy, 
 Almighty  tyrant  of  the  human  mind. 
 Who  canst  at  will  unsettle  the  calm  brain, 
 O'erturn  the  sealed  heart  and  shake  the 
 
 man 
 Through  all  his  frame  with  tempest  and! 
 
 distraction.  Mallet. 
 
 Foul  jealousy !  thou  turnest  love  divine 
 To  joyless  dread,  and  mak'st  the  lovi.»* 
 
 heart 
 With  hateful  thoughts  to  languish  and  to 
 
 pine, 
 And  feed  itself  with  self-consuming  smart. 
 Of  all  the  passions  in  the  mind  thou  vilest 
 
 art.  Spenser. 
 
 JEHOVAH-JIREH. 
 
 Abraham  did  not  find  the  provision  of 
 God  as  snon  as  he  left  his  house,  or  half 
 way  on  his  journey,  or  at  the  foot  of  the 
 hill,  or  as  soon  as  the  altar  was  built ;  but 
 just  as  he  was  about  to  take  away  Isaac's 
 life.  At  this  crisis  the  voice  of  the  angel 
 was  heard,  the  hand  was  arrested,  and  the 
 ram  seen  awaiting  him  in  the  thicket.  This 
 shows  that  God  provides  for  us  in  wisdom, 
 according  to  our  necessities  and  circum- 
 stances. We  have  not  the  things  of  heaven 
 on  earth,  but  when  our  souls,  through 
 grace,  ascend  to  the  Mount  of  God,  the 
 glory  will  be  provided  for  us.  We  have 
 not  dying  grace  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
 health,  but  when  we  come  to  death,  if  we 
 now  live  to  Him,  dying  grace  will  be 
 awaiting  us.  We  have  not  the  grace  of 
 bereavement  when  we  are  rejoicing  in  the 
 midst  of  unbroken  circles;  but  when  the 
 enemy  makes  a  breach,  we  shall  find,  as 
 our  day,  our  strength  will  be.  God  works 
 upon  this  principle  in  nature  as  well  as  in 
 grace.  The  harvest  does  not  'coine  in 
 spring;  then  the  husbandman  has  some- 
 thing else  to  do ;  he  has  to  prepare  for  the 
 harvest.  When  all  the  preparatory  work 
 is  done,  then  harvest  comes,  as  provided  by 
 the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
 No  man  who  will  tread  in  the  steps  of 
 Abraham,  that  is.  Believe  God,  and  obey 
 Him,  will  ever  want  a  place  on  which  to 
 write  Jehovah-jireh.  He  who  shall  do  this, 
 may  inscribe  Jehovah-jireh  on  his  purse,  his 
 table,  his  cupboard,  his  trade,  his  tempta- 
 tion, his  trials,  his  afflictions,  his  dying 
 day,  and  his  future  immortality.  Faith — ■ 
 Obedience — The  Loed  will  Provide, 
 are  three  points  in  the  economy  of  God, 
 as  inseparable  as  the  attributes  of  the 
 Divine  Nature.  Ibid. 
 
 Long  before  the  establishment  of  Bible 
 societies,  the  Rev.  Peter  Williams,  a  pious. 
 
4DB 
 
 JEHOVAH-HEEH. 
 
 •d'sT/mopnis'hed  clerfryman  of  Walfs,  seeing 
 t.iut  his  couiitryuieii  were  alinijst  entirely 
 destitute  of  the  l>ible,  aud  knowing  that 
 tlie  work  of  the  Lord  could  not  prosper 
 without  it,  undertook,  though  destitute  of 
 the  means,  to  translate  and  publish  a 
 Welsh  Bible  for  their  use.  Having  ex- 
 pended all  his  living,  and  being  deeply 
 involved  in  debt,  with  the  work  unfinished, 
 he  expected  every  hour  to  be  arrested  aud 
 iraprisoned,  without  the  means  or  hope  of 
 release.  One  morning  he  had  taken  an 
 afi'ectionate  leave  of  his  faiuily  for  the  pur- 
 pose of  pursuing  his  pious  labours,  with 
 an  expectation  that  he  should  not  be  per- 
 mitted to  return,  when,  just  as  he  was 
 mounting  his  horse,  a  stranger  rode  up 
 and  presented  him  a  letter.  He  stopped 
 and  oj)encd  it,  and  found,  to  his  astonish- 
 ment, that  it  contained  infurniation  that  a 
 lady  had  bequeathed  him  a  legacy  of  £3C0 
 sterling.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  my  dear  wife, 
 I  can  finish  my  Bible,  pay  my  debts,  and 
 live  in  peace  at  home." 
 
 A  lady,  who  had  just  sat  down  to  break- 
 fast, had  a  strong  impression  upon  her 
 mind  that  she  must  instantly  carry  a  loaf  of 
 bread  to  a  poor  man,  who  lived  about  half 
 a  mile  from  her  house,  by  the  side  of  a 
 common.  Her  husband  wished  her  either 
 to  postpone  taking  the  loaf  of  bread  till 
 after  breakfast,  or  to  send  it  by  her  ser- 
 vant; but  she  chose  to  take  it  herself 
 instantly.  As  she  approached  the  hut,  ! 
 she  heard  the  sound  of  a  human  voice. 
 Willing  to  hear  what  it  was,  she  stepped 
 softly,  unperceived  to  the  door.  She  now 
 heard  the  poor  mau  praying,  and  among 
 other  things  he  said,  "  6  Lord,  help  me ! 
 Lord,  Thou  wilt  help  me;  Thy  providence 
 cannot  fail ;  and  although  my  wife,  myself, 
 and  children,  have  no  bread  to  eat,  and  it 
 is  now  a  whole  day  since  we  had  any,  I 
 know  Thou  wilt  supply  me,  though  Thou 
 shouldst  again  rain  down  manna  from 
 heaven."  The  lady  could  wait  no  longer; 
 slie  opened  the  door.  "Yes,"  she  replied, 
 "  God  has  sent  you  relief  Take  this  loaf, 
 and  be  encouraged  to  cast  your  care  upon 
 Him  who  careth  for  you;  and  when  you 
 ever  want  a  loaf  of  bread,  come  to  my 
 house."  J.  G.  Wilson. 
 
 The  recent  bicentenary  celebration  of  the 
 exodus  of  the  Nonconformists  from  the 
 English  establishment  has  reviven  many 
 characteristic  stories  of  their  great  suffier- 
 iuffs  for  the  cause  of  truth,  and  of  the 
 special  deliverances  often  granted  them. 
 A  correspondent  of  the  '  London  Standard' 
 tells  the  following  incident  of  Oliver  Hey- 
 wood,  one  of  the  best  of  them. 
 
 Mr.  Heywood  was  reduced  to  great 
 straits  after  the  loss  of  his  income,  when 
 for  conscience  sake  he  refused  to  conform. 
 
 He  was  brought  at  one  time  to  such  a 
 state  as  to  have  neither  food  nor  money  in 
 the  house,  and  the  children  began  to  be 
 impatient  for  the  want  of  food.  Under 
 these  circumstances,  Mr.  Heywood  called 
 his  old  servant,  who  would  not  desert  the 
 family  in  their  distress,  aud  said  to  her: 
 
 "  Martha,  take  a  basket  and  go  to  Hali- 
 fax, and  call  on  Mr.  N.,  the  shopkeeper, 
 and  ask  him  to  lend  me  five  shillings ;  if 
 he  is  so  kind  as  to  do  it,  buy  such  things 
 as  you  know  we  want.  The  Lord  give  you 
 good  speed ;  and  in  the  mean  time  we  will 
 oSer  our  requests  to  Him  who  feedeth  the 
 young  ravens  when  they  cry." 
 
 Martha  went,  but  when  she  came  to  the 
 place  her  heart  failed  her.  She  passed  by 
 the  door  again  and  again,  without  going 
 in  to  tell  her  errand.  Mr.  N.  observing 
 her,  called  her  to  him,  and  asked  if  she 
 was  not  Mr.  Hey  wood's  servant.  On  hear- 
 ing that  she  was,  he  said, 
 
 "  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  as  some  friends 
 have  given  me  five  guineas  for  your  master, 
 and  I  was  just  thinking  how  I  could  send 
 it." 
 
 Good  Martha  burst  into  tears,  and  then 
 told  the  errand  on  which  she  had  been 
 sent,  which  greatly  affected  the  tradesman, 
 who  told  her  to  come  to  him  if  the  like 
 necessity  should  recurn.  Having  procured 
 the  necessary  provisions  she  hastened  back  ; 
 the  children  with  delight  crowded  round 
 the  replenished  basket;  and  the  father, 
 hearing  the  servant's  narrative,  smiled  and 
 said,  "  The  Lord  hath  not  forgotten  to  be 
 gracious;  His  Word  is  true  from  the  be- 
 ginning: they  that  seek  the  Lord  shall 
 not  want  any  good  thing."  Anon. 
 
 Though  troubles  assail,  and  dangers  aff'right. 
 Though  friends  should  all  'fail,  and  ibes  all 
 
 unite 
 Yet  one  thing  secures  us,  whatever  betide. 
 The   promise  assures  us, — the   Lord   will 
 
 provide. 
 The  birds,  without  barn  or  storehouse,  are 
 
 fed; 
 From  them  let  us  learn  to  trust  for  our 
 
 bread : 
 His  saints  what  is  fitting  shall  ne'er  be 
 
 denied, 
 So  long  as  'tis  written, — The  Lord  will 
 
 provide. 
 Wheu  Satan  appears  to  stop  up  our  path ; 
 And   fills  us  with  fears,  we  triumph   by 
 
 faith ; 
 He  cannot  take  from  us  (though  oft  he  has 
 
 tried) 
 The    heart-cheering    promise, — The  Lord 
 
 will  provide. 
 He  tells  us  we're  weak, — our  hope  is  in 
 
 vain ; 
 The  good  that  we  seek  we  ne'er  shall  ob- 
 tain: 
 
JESTING— JESUS. 
 
 497 
 
 But  when  such  suggestions  our  graces  have 
 
 tried, 
 This  answers  all  questions, — the  Lord  will 
 
 provide. 
 
 No  strength  of  our  own,  nor  goodness  we 
 
 claim ; 
 Our  trust  is  all  thrown  on  Jesus's  Name ; 
 In  this  our  strong  tower  for  safety  we  hide  ; 
 The   Lord   is  our  power, — the  Lord  will 
 
 provide. 
 
 When  life  sinks  apace,  and  death  is  in  view. 
 The  Word  of  His  grace  shall  comfort  us 
 
 through ; 
 Not  fearing  or  doubting,  with  Christ  on 
 
 our  side. 
 We  hope  to  die  shouting, — The  Lord  will 
 
 provide.  J.  Newton. 
 
 JESTING— Dangers  of. 
 
 It  is  dangerous  to  jest  with  God,  death, 
 or  the  devil ;  for  the  first  neither  can  nor 
 will  be  mocked;  the  second  mocks  all  men 
 at  one  time  or  another;  and  the  third 
 puts  an  eternal  sarcasm  on  those  that  are 
 too  familiar  with  him.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 Jests  too  tart  are  not  good;  bitter 
 potions  are  not  for  health.  An  oflensive 
 man  is  the  devil's  bellows  to  blow  up  con- 
 tention. Hid. 
 
 A  jest  in  the  mouth  of  the  ignorant  is 
 like  a  fine  sword  by  the  side  of  a  valet. 
 
 lUd. 
 JESTING— Personal. 
 
 Whosoever  will  jest  will  be  like  him 
 that  flourishes  at  a  show — he  may  turn  his 
 weapon  every  way,  but  not  aim  more  at 
 one  than  another.  It  is  very  unsafe  to 
 sling  about  this  wormwood :  some  noses 
 are  too  delicate  to  bear  the  smell.  Some 
 are  like  tiled  houses,  that  can  admit  a  fall- 
 ing spark ;  yet  others  are  like  dry  straw, 
 that  with  the  least  touch  will  kindle  about 
 your  ears.  Ibid. 
 
 A  jest  should  be  such  that  all  shall  be 
 able  to  join  in  the  laugh  which  it  occasions ; 
 but  if  it  bears  hard  upon  one  of  the  com- 
 pany, like  the  crack  of  a  string,  it  makes  a 
 stop  in  the  music.  Feliham. 
 
 JESTS  AND  JOKES. 
 
 One  jests  in  order  to  make  others  laugh  ; 
 one  jokes  in  order  to  please  one's  self. 
 The  jest  is  directed  at  the  object;  the^o^-e 
 is  practised  with  the  person  or  on  the 
 person.  One  attempts  to  make  a  thing 
 laughable,  or  ridiculous,  by  jesting  about 
 it,  or  treating  it  in  a  jesting  manner;  one 
 attempts  to  excite  good  humour  in  others, 
 or  indulge  it  in  one's  self  hy  jokinff  with 
 them.  Jests  are,  therefore,  seldom  harm- 
 less; jokes  are  frequently  allowable.  The 
 most  serious  subject  may  be  degraded  Uv 
 
 being  turned  into  a  jest ;  but  the  melan- 
 choly, or  dejection,  of  the  mind,  may  be 
 conveniently  dispelled  by  a  joke.  Court 
 fools  and  buflfoons  used  formerly  to  break 
 their  jests  upon  every  subject,  by  which 
 they  thought  to  entertain  their  employers ; 
 those  who  know  how  to  joke  with  good- 
 nature and  discretion  may  contribute  to 
 the  mirth  of  the  company.  G.  Ciabb. 
 
 JESUIT— Description  of  a. 
 
 A  Jesuit  may  be  shortly  described  as  an 
 empty  suit  of  clothes,  with  another  person 
 living  in  them,  who  acts  for  him,  thinks 
 for  him,  decides  for  him  whether  he  shall 
 be  a  prince  or  a  beggar,  and  moves  him 
 about  wheresoever  he  pleases ;  who  allow; 
 him  to  exhibit  the  external  aspect  of  a 
 man,  but  leaves  him  none  of  the  privileges 
 —  no  liberty,  no  property,  no  affections, 
 not  even  the  power  to  refuse  obedience 
 when  ordered  to  commit  the  most  atrocious 
 of  crimes;  for,  the  more  he  outrages  his 
 own  feelings,  the  greater  his  merits.  Obe- 
 dience to  the  superior  is  his  only  idea  of 
 virtue,  and  in  all  other  respects  he  is  a 
 mere  image.  Dr.  Southet/. 
 
 JESUS— Alone  with. 
 Alone  with  Jesus  !  leave  me  here. 
 Without  a  wish,  without  a  fear; 
 My  pulse  is  weak,  and  faint  my  breath. 
 But  is  He  not  the  Lord  of  Death  ? 
 And  if  I  live,  or  if  I  die, 
 'Tis  all  the  same  when  He  is  nigh. 
 
 Alone  with  Jesus !  oh,  how  sweet 
 In  health  to  worship  at  His  feet ! 
 But  sweeter  far  when,  day  by  day. 
 We  droop,  and  pine,  and  waste  away. 
 To  feel  His  arms  around  us  close. 
 And  on  His  bosom  find  repose ! 
 
 Alone  with  Jesus !  how  secure ; 
 Vile  in  myself,  in  Him  how  pure ; 
 The  tempests  howl,  the  waters  beat, 
 They  harm  me  not  in  my  retreat : 
 Night  deepens — 'mid  its  gloom  and  chill 
 He  draws  me  nearer  to  Him  still.     Anon. 
 
 JESUS — Attractions  of. 
 
 Young  men  and  maidens,  in  the  flower 
 of  your  mortality,  acquaint  yourselves  with 
 Jesus ;  for  thereby  good  shall  come  to  you. 
 The  sear  and  the  withered,  the  cold  and 
 the  dull,  the  old  and  the  dead,  are  repul- 
 sive to  you;  we  do  not  invite  you  to  them, 
 we  invite  you  to  Jesus.  Look  at  the  sun, 
 how  bright  and  young  he  is,  after  these 
 thousands  of  years ;  and  think  how  young 
 and  glorious  life  must  be  in  Him,  who 
 giveth  to  all  suns  and  angels  their  beauty 
 and  their  youth.  You  have  heard  of  the 
 great  love,  stronger  than  death,  wherewith 
 He  loved  you,  and  still  loves  you ;  of  His 
 wondrous  works,  visible  and  invisible,  and 
 of  His  yet  more  wondrous  humiliations  or 
 your  behalf;  you  have  heard  that  there  is 
 
JESUS. 
 
 neither  faith  nor  hope  for  your  immortal 
 nature  apart  from  Him;  that  without 
 Him  you  can  do  nothing  but  perish ;  and 
 these  are  affecting  and  weighty  considera- 
 tions; but  at  present  our  subject  charges 
 us  to  commend  him  to  your  hearts  on  the 
 ground  of  His  own  eternal  beauties.  By 
 the  splendour  of  His  holiness,  therefore; 
 by  the  unfailing  sweetness  of  His  majesty  ; 
 by  the  might  and  meekness  of  His  human- 
 ity ;  by  the  everlasting  spring  which  smiles 
 in  His  presence ;  and  by  the  ceaseless  play 
 of  His  charms,  the  charms  of  eternal  youth, 
 we  press  you  to  forsake  death,  to  embrace 
 the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  become  the  heirs  of 
 His  kingdom  and  glory.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 JESUS — Clinging  to. 
 What  though  the  world  deceitful  prove. 
 And  earthly  friends  and  joys  remove. 
 With  patient,  uncomplaining  love 
 
 Still  would  I  cling  to  Thee ! 
 
 Oft  when  I  seem  to  tread  alone 
 
 Some  barren  waste  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 
 
 Thy  voice  of  love  in  tend'rest  tone 
 
 Whispers,  "Still  cling  to  Me  \" 
 C.  Elliott. 
 JESUS— the  Conqueror  of  Death. 
 
 He  did  not  vanquish  Death  from  afar,  like 
 some  god  of  the  ancient  Olympus ;  He  did 
 not  strike  down  the  foe  by  arrows  shot 
 from  heights  of  the  empyrean.  No;  He 
 himself  came  down.  Himself  wrestled  with 
 Death ;  for  a  moment  its  cold  hand  was 
 laid  upon  His  heart,  and  then  he  arose, 
 felled  it  to  the  ground  by  His  glance ;  and 
 walked  our  earth,  as  He  had  done  before. 
 
 Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 JESUS— a  Door. 
 Door  of  hope  for  sinners  poor. 
 
 Here  the  hopeless  may  draw  nigh ; 
 Jesus  bids  them  stay  no  more, 
 And  receives  them  graciously. 
 
 Door  of  mercy  open  wide. 
 
 He  that  will  may  enter  here ; 
 
 Find  in  Jesu's  pierced  side 
 Shelter  from  each  rising  fear. 
 
 Door  oi pardon  for  the  vile, 
 
 Here  the  vilest  enter  in. 
 Find  the  fruit  of  Jesu's  toil 
 
 Full  atonement  for  their  sin. 
 
 Door  0^  peace,  yea,  peace  with  God, 
 Sinners  may  adore  and  bless — 
 
 Peace,  the  fruit  of  Jesu's  blood ; 
 Peace,  the  fruit  of  righteousness. 
 
 Door  of  heaven,  there  saints  shall  raise 
 Loud  hosannas  swelling  high, 
 
 And  in  gratitude  and  praise 
 
 Spend  a  long  eternity.  Anon. 
 
 JESUS— Gentleness  of. 
 
 But  this  lowliness  was  mingled  with 
 gentleness.     It  was  a  flower  which  grew 
 
 along  the  ground — not  a  fire  running  along 
 it.  We  have  no  doubt  that  this  expressed 
 itself  in  the  very  features  and  expressions 
 of  His  countenance.  We  have  seen  but  one 
 pictured  representation  which  answered  to 
 our  ideal  of  the  face  and  figure  of  Jesus. 
 It  was  the  wovk  of  an  Italian  master,  whose 
 name  we  have  forgotten,  and  represented 
 Christ  talking  to  the  woman  of  Samaria.  It 
 was  a  picture  which  might  have  converted 
 a  soul.  There  sat  the  wearied  Saviour  by 
 the  well-side — His  eye  full  of  a  far  look  of 
 love  and  sorrow,  as  if  He  saw  the  whole 
 degraded  species  in  the  one  sinner  before 
 Him,  and  His  hand  half  open,  as  if  it  held 
 in  it  "  the  living  water" — the  woman  listen- 
 ing with  downcast  looks,  and  tears  trickling 
 down  her  cheeks — her  pitcher  resting  ou 
 the  mouth  of  the  well,  and  behind  her,  seen 
 in  the  distance,  the  sunny  sky  and  glowing 
 mountains  of  Palestine.  But  in  the  noble 
 figure  and  the  ethereal  grandeur  of  His 
 countenance,  you  saw  that  the  gentleness 
 was  not  that  of  woman,  nor  even  that  of 
 man  ;  it  was  the  gentleness  of  Him  whose 
 "  dwelling  is  with  the  humble  and  the  con- 
 trite in  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the 
 humble,  and  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones." 
 It  was  this  which  led  Him  to  gentle  asso- 
 ciates— to  the  society  of  the  holy  women, 
 and  of  those  children  who  saw  the  sim- 
 plicity of  infancy  blended  with  the  per- 
 spicacity of  Godhead  in  the  same  face,  and 
 felt  at  once  awe- struck  and  attracted.  The 
 babes  and  sucklings  saw  and  felt  what  was 
 hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent.  But  the 
 chief  scene  for  the  exercise  of  this  exceed- 
 ing gentleness  was  the  company  of  publi- 
 cans, sinners,  and  harlots.  The  sight  of 
 personified  purity  mingling  with  the  vilest 
 of  beings,  with  condescension,  blame,  hope, 
 and  pity  expressed  in  His  countenance  in- 
 stead of  disgust  and  horror,  was  touching 
 beyond  the  reach  of  tears.  Like  the  moon 
 looking  full  in  upon  a  group  of  evil-doers, 
 at  once  rebuking,  softening,  and  spiritualis- 
 ing the  scene,  so  at  Simon's  table  shone  on 
 the  sinners  around,  the  shaded  orb  of  the 
 Redeemer's  face,  and  it  seemed  as  if  heaven 
 were  dimly  dawning  upon  the  imminent 
 victims  of  hell.  Oiljillan. 
 
 JESUS— Glory  of  God  seen  in. 
 
 The  moon,  a  softer,  but  not  less  beauti- 
 ful object  than  the  sun,  returns  and  com- 
 municates to  mankind  the  light  of  the  sua 
 in  a  gentle  and  delightful  manner,  exactly 
 suited  to  the  strength  of  the  human  eyej 
 an  illustration  and  most  beautiful  emblem 
 in  this  and  other  respects  of  the  Divine 
 Redeemer  of  mankind  ;  who,  softening  the 
 splendour  of  the  Godhead,  brings  it  to  the 
 eye  of  the  understanding  in  a  manner  fitted 
 to  the  strength  of  the  mind,  so  that,  with- 
 out being  overwhelmed  or  distressed,  it  can 
 thus  behold  "  the  light  of  the  knowledge 
 
JESUS. 
 
 49a 
 
 of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
 Christ."  Dr.  DwigJd. 
 
 JESUS— Humiliation  of. 
 
 The  founder  of  the  Kussian  empire  left 
 his  i^ilace  and  capital,  the  seductive  plea- 
 sures and  all  the  pomp  and  royalty,  to 
 acquire  the  art  of  ship-huildiug  in  the 
 dockyard  of  a  Dutch  sea-port.  He  learned 
 it  that  he  might  teach  it  to  his  subjects ; 
 he  became  a  servant,  that  he  miglit  be  the 
 better  master,  and  lay  in  Russia  the  foun- 
 dations of  a  great  naval  power.  Nor  has 
 his  country  been  ungrateful ;  her  capital, 
 which  beai-s  his  name,  is  adorned  with  a 
 monument  to  his  memory,  massive  as  his 
 mind  ;  and  she  has  embalmed  his  deathless 
 name  in  her  heart  and  in  her  victories. 
 Yet,  little  as  men  think  of  Jesus,  lightly  as 
 they  esteem  Him,  a  far  greater  sight  is 
 here.  There,  in  a  king  becoming  a  subject 
 that  his  subjects  might  find  in  him  a  king, 
 there  was  much  for  men ;  but  here  there 
 is  much  both  for  men  and  angels  to  wonder 
 at,  and  praise  through  all  eternity.  The 
 Son  of  God  stoops  to  toil.  What  an  amaz- 
 ing scene !  JDr.  Guthrie. 
 
 The  height  from  which  Jesus  stooped, 
 the  moral  glory  of  His  nature,  the  ex- 
 quisite purity  and  serenity  of  that  atmo- 
 sphere in  which  He  had  been  accustomed 
 to  breathe,  render  it  all  the  more  astonish- 
 ing that  He  should  submit  to  descend  so 
 low,  and  so  long  for  our  sakes  to  dwell  in 
 the  foul  region  of  this  world's  ungodliness 
 and  evil.  The  most  delicate  and  sensitive 
 being  trained  from  infancy  in  a  home  of 
 purity  and  love,  sheltered  from  the  very 
 breath  of  pollution,  and  then  forced  to  live 
 in  some  haunt  of  iniquity,  and  among  tlie 
 shameless  and  abandoned  victims  of  jiroHi- 
 gacy,  would  not  undergo  the  transition 
 with  such  shrinking  abhorrence  as  did 
 Jesus  that  transition  which  He  voluntarily 
 underwent  for  us.  An  angel  from  the 
 throne  of  God  submitting  to  dwell  amid 
 blasphemies  and  wailings  of  hell  would  not 
 exhibit  a  spectacle  of  voluntary  humiliation 
 such  as  His,  who  stooped  from  infinitude  to 
 such  a  world  as  this.  Dr.  Caird. 
 
 JESUS— Ideas  of. 
 
 The  ideas  of  Jesus  are  sunbeams.  When 
 they  fall  full  and  free  upon  the  heart  of 
 humanity,  they  are  like  the  solar  rays  of 
 spring  upon  winter's  dark  and  icy  lands; 
 they  cleave  the  clouds,  breathe  a  genial 
 thaw,  wake  the  dormant  germs,  loosen  the 
 frost-bound  currents,  and  send  them  forth 
 in  warm  and  sparkling  streams  to  irrigate 
 the  scene.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 JESUS— Life  of. 
 
 His   life  resembled   a   polished   mirror. 
 
 which  the  foulest  breath  cannot  stain,  nor 
 dim,  beyond  a  passing  moment. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 JESUS— look  of. 
 
 "  The  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon 
 Peter."  What  a  look  must  that  have 
 been  !  What  Divine  sorrow  and  love  must 
 it  have  expressed !  and  how  accompanied 
 by  the  effulgence  of  the  spirit  and  the 
 radiance  of  Divine  grace !  It  acted  both 
 as  a  sword  to  wound  and  as  a  balm  to 
 heal.  It  struck  like  destroying  lightning, 
 and  at  the  same  time  expanded  itself  like 
 refreshing  dew.  0  there  is  inexpressible 
 power  in  the  look  of  Jesus !  With  a  look 
 of  majesty  He  beholds  the  earth  and  it 
 trembles.  W^ith  a  judicial  look  He  over- 
 takes the  sinner,  who  exclaims,  "  I  perish 
 at  His  presence."  His  dying  look  on  the 
 cross  melts  stony  hearts,  and  transforms 
 lions  into  lambs.  With  a  look  of  forgiv- 
 ing mercy,  He  makes  a  contrite  soul  for- 
 get heaven  and  earth  in  its  happiness ; 
 and  by  means  of  a  grieved  and  loving 
 look  He  restores  lambs  to  His  fold,  which 
 had  long  gone  astray  in  the  wilderness. 
 To  this  day  His  people  feel  that  His  eyes 
 are  upon  them,  and  according  to  what 
 they  read  in  them,  their  peace  or  joy  rises 
 or  falls.  Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 JESUS— Looking  to. 
 
 In  every  enjoyment,  0  Christian,  look 
 unto  Jesus;  receive  it  as  proceeding  from 
 His  lovt?,  and  purchased  by  His  agonies. 
 In  every  tribulation  look  unto  Jesus ; 
 mark  His  gracious  hand  managing  the 
 scourge,  or  mingling  the  bitter  cup ; 
 attempering  it  to  a  proper  degree  of 
 severity;  adjusting  the  time  of  its  con- 
 tinuance ;  and  ready  to  make  these  seem- 
 ing disasters  productive  of  real  good.  In 
 every  infirmity  and  failing  look  unto 
 Jesus,  thy  merciful  High  Priest,  pleading 
 His  atoning  blood,  and  making  interces- 
 sion for  transgressors.  In  every  prayer 
 look  unto  Jesus,  thy  prevailing  Advocate, 
 recommending  thy  devotions,  and  "  bear- 
 ing the  iniquity  uf  thy  holy  things."  In 
 every  temptation  look  unto  Jesus,  the 
 Author  of  thy  strength  and  Captain  of  thy 
 salvation,  who  alone  is  able  to  lift  up  the 
 hands  which  hang  down,  to  invigorate 
 the  enfeebled  knees,  and  make  thee  more 
 than  conqueror  over  all  thy  enemies. 
 Eut  especially  when  the  hour  of  thy 
 departure  approaches  and  when  thy  flesh 
 and  thy  heart  fail,  when  aU  the  springs 
 of  life  are  irreparably  breaking,  then  look 
 unto  Jesus  with  a  believing  eye.  Like 
 expiring  Stephen,  behold  Him  standing 
 at  the  right  hand  of  God,  ou  purpose  to 
 succour  His  people  in  this  their  last  ex- 
 tremity. Yes,  my  Christian  friend,  when 
 thy  journey  through  life  is  finishad,  and 
 
500 
 
 JESLS. 
 
 thou  art  arrived  on  the  very  verge  of 
 mortality  ;  when  thou  art  just  launching 
 out  into  the  invisible  world,  and  all  before 
 thee  is  vast  eternity;  then,  oh  then,  locik 
 unto  Jesus.  See  by  faith  the  Lord's 
 Christ.  View  Him  as  the  only  "Way" 
 to  the  everlasting  mansions ;  as  the  only 
 "  Door"  to  the  abodes  of  bliss.    J.  Servey. 
 
 As  the  Christian  journeys  to  heaven  he 
 is  frequently  beset  with  the  world's  en- 
 ticements. On  the  one  hand  are  the 
 world's  pleasures ;  on  the  other  the 
 world's  honour,  fame,  glory,  riches,  all 
 calling  for  his  pursuit  :  but  his  motto  is, 
 "Looking  unto  Jesus;"  and  by  carrying 
 this  into  practice,  he  avoids  all  the  world's 
 enticements.  John  Bate. 
 
 JESUS— the  Manifestation  of  God. 
 
 The  devout  heart  yearns  after  a  personal 
 God.  It  craves  for  something  more  than 
 the  works  of  God,  however  replete  with 
 proofs  of  His  power  and  glory ;  it  wants 
 to  get  near  Himself.  Its  instinctive  desire 
 is  after  a  Father  and  a  Friend- — a  loving 
 ear  into  which  its  sorrows  may  be  poured 
 — a  loving  heart  on  which  its  weariness 
 may  rest.  But  Omnipresence,  Omnijio- 
 tence.  Being  without  form  or  place.  Ex- 
 istence without  beginning  or  end.  Eternal 
 Rest  without  change  or  motion  ;  these,  in 
 their  very  sublimity,  constitute  a  notion 
 which  tends  to  repel  rather  than  to  attract, 
 to  overwhelm  and  crush  rather  than  gently 
 to  raise  and  foster  our  human  sympathies 
 and  desires.  Our  mortal  feebleness  shrinks 
 from  it  in  trembling  awe.  The  heart  can- 
 not feed  on  sublimities.  We  cannot  make 
 a  home  of  this  cold  magnificence ;  we  can- 
 not take  Immensity  by  the  hand.  The 
 soul  lost  in  such  contemplations,  like  a 
 trembling  child  wandering  on  some  moun- 
 tain solitudes,  longs,  amidst  all  this  vast- 
 ness  and  grandeur,  for  the  sound  of  some 
 familiar  voice  to  break  the  stillness,  or  the 
 sight  of  some  sheltered  spot  in  which  it 
 may  nestle  with  the  sense  of  friendliness 
 and  security. 
 
 Now  that  which  is  thus  the  deep-felt 
 want  of  our  natures  is  most  fully  and 
 adequately  met  in  the  Person  of  Jesus 
 Christ.  For  here  is  One  whom,  while  we 
 may  reverence  and  adore  as  God,  we  can 
 think  of  as  clearly,  and  love  as  simply, 
 trustingly,  tenderly,  as  the  best  known 
 and  loved  of  our  earthly  friends.  Here 
 is  a  point  which  our  shadowy  conceptions 
 may  condense,  a  focus  towards  which  our 
 aimless  aspirations  may  tend.  Here  we 
 have  set  before  us  the  Boundless,  limited 
 in  form;  the  Etei-nal,  dwelling  in  time; 
 the  Invisible  and  Spiritual  God  revealed 
 in  that  Word  of  Life  which  human  eyes 
 have  seen,  and  human  hands  have  handled. 
 No  longer,  when  we  read,  or  muse,  or  pray, 
 
 need  our  minds  be  at  a  loss,  our  thoughts 
 wander  forth  through  eternity  in  search  of 
 a  Living  God.  To  Him  who  lived  among 
 us,  breathed  our  common  air,  and  spoke 
 our  human  speech,  loved  us  with  a  human 
 heart,  and  healed  and  helped  us  with 
 human  hands  —  to  Him,  as  God,  every 
 knee  may  bow,  and  every  tongue  confess. 
 No  longer  in  our  hidden  joys  and  griefs, 
 in  our  gratitude  and  our  contrition,  in  our 
 love  and  in  our  sorrow,  when  our  full 
 hearts  long  for  a  heavenly  confiilant,  to 
 whom,  as  to  an  earthly  friend,  we  may  lay 
 bare  our  souls,  need  we  fear  as  if  God  were 
 too  awful  a  Being  to  intrude  upon  Him  our 
 insignificance,  or  to  offer  to  Him  our  ten- 
 derness, or  our  tears.  "  Come  unto  I\Ie," 
 is  the  invitation  of  this  Blessed  One,  so  in- 
 tensely human,  though  so  gloriously  Divine; 
 "  unto  Me,"  in  whose  arms  little  children 
 were  embraced,  on  whose  bosom  a  frail 
 mortal  lay ;  "  unto  Me,"  who  hungered, 
 thirsted,  fainted,  sorrowed,  wept,  and  yet 
 whose  love,  and  grief,  and  pains,  and  tears, 
 were  the  expression  of  emotions  felt  in  the 
 mighty  heart  of  God.  "  Come  unto  Me,  all 
 ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
 will  give  you  rest."  Caird. 
 
 JESUS— Name  of. 
 
 It  is  the  highest  name  in  heaven,  and 
 the  greatest  name  on  earth.  It  possesses 
 charms,  glories,  perfections,  which  cannot 
 be  found  in  the  combination  of  the  names 
 of  all  created  existences  throughout  the 
 illimitable  universe.  In  it  is  life  and  sal- 
 vation, peace  and  purity,  hope  and  rejoic- 
 ing, the  aggregate  of  all  blessings  which  a 
 fallen  world  requires.  We  should  love  it 
 more  than  we  love  the  names  of  ourselves, 
 our  children,  and  our  friends.  Without 
 it  the  world  would  be  hopeless,  God  un- 
 approa(!hable,  heaven  without  an  entrance, 
 sin  without  pardon^  and  death  without  a 
 victor.  John  Bate. 
 
 As  the  signet  of  Pharaoh  on  the  hand  of 
 Joseph ;  so  the  name  of  Jesus  on  the  heart 
 and  lips  of  the  Christian.  It  possesses  a 
 sovereign  power.  What  was  the  power  of 
 the  apostles  without  it  ? — the  power  of  the 
 Gospel  without  it  ? — the  power  of  prayer 
 witliout  it  ? — the  power  of  faith  without 
 it  ? — the  power  of  Christianity  without  it  ? 
 Ibid. 
 
 The  name  of  Jesus  is  not  only  light,  but 
 also  food;  it  is  likewise  oil,  without  which 
 all  the  food  of  the  soul  is  dry;  it  is  salt, 
 unseasoned  by  which  whatever  is  presented 
 to  us  is  insipid ;  it  is  honey  in  the  mouth, 
 melody  in  the  ear,  joy  in  the  heart,  medi- 
 cine to  the  soul ;  and  there  are  no  charms 
 in  any  discourse  in  which  His  name  is  not 
 heard.  St.  Bernard. 
 
JESUS. 
 
 501 
 
 JESUS— Name  of. 
 
 "  Jesus,  my  Lord !  I  know  His  name, 
 His  name  is  all  my  boast ; 
 Nor  will  He  put  my  soul  to  shame. 
 Nor  let  my  hope  be  lost." 
 
 To  a  sinner's  ear  there  is  no  music  on 
 earth,  nor  in  the  golden  harps  of  heaven, 
 like  the  name  of  Jesus.  Music  in  its 
 sound,  there  is  ointment  in  its  meaning. 
 Fragrant  as  the  spikenard  of  the  alabaster 
 box,  "  His  name  is  as  ointment  poured 
 forth."  Dr.  authne. 
 
 JESUS— Precionsness  of. 
 
 Jesu  !  the  Hope  of  soiils  forlorn, 
 How  good  to  them  for  sin  who  mourn ! 
 To  them  that  seek  Thee,  O  how  kind ! 
 But  what  art  Thou  to  them  that  find  ? 
 No  tongue  of  mortal  can  express. 
 No  letters  write  its  blessedness : 
 Alone  who  hath  Thee  in  the  heart 
 Knoivs,  love  of  Jesus,  ivhat  Thou  art. 
 O  Jesu  !  King  of  wondrous  might ! 
 
 0  Victor  glorious  from  the  fight ! 
 Sweetness  that  may  not  be  express'd. 
 And  altogether  loveliest !     *S^.  Bernard. 
 
 JESUS— a  Protector. 
 
 1  doubt  not  but  many  of  the  Israelites, 
 when  they  found  that  Aaron  was  the  means 
 of  staying  the  plague  among  them,  rushed 
 to  hide  themselves  under  his  protecting 
 care.  You  that  know  Jesus  to  be  such  an 
 eflectual  Intercessor  with  God,  should  you 
 not  run  to  save  yourselves  fi-om  the  pimish- 
 nient  of  sin,  by  throwing  yourselves  beneath 
 His  gracious  protection?  John  Bate. 
 
 JESUS— Safety  in. 
 
 Ah !  when  we  find  Him,  and  while  we 
 will  not  let  Him  go,  there  is  safety,  pro- 
 gress, happiness,  usefulness  for  us.  Satan 
 cannot  lay  hold  on  us.  A  little  child,  who 
 was  told  by  her  mother  that  the  tempter 
 could  not  get  her  because  Jesus  would  be 
 with  her,  answered,  "  Wiiy,  mothf  r,  I  am 
 in  Jesus."  W.  E.  Boardman. 
 
 JESUS— Sayings  of. 
 
 The  most  eminent  illustrations  of  the 
 widest  wealth  laid  up  in  narrowest  com- 
 pass must  naturally  be  found  in  single 
 sayings  of  our  Lord's.  How  do  they 
 shine,  like  finely  polished  diamonds,  upon 
 every  face  !  how  simple  and  yet  how 
 deep  !  apparent  paradoxes,  and  yet  pro- 
 foundest  truths !  Every  one  can  get  some- 
 thing from  them,  and  no  one  can  get  at 
 all.  He  that  gathers  little  has  enough, 
 and  he  that  gathers  much  has  nothing 
 over ;  every  one  gathers  them  according 
 to  his  eating.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 JESUS— seeing  Sin. 
 
 He  saw  sin  not  only  in  the  outward  act, 
 
 but  in  the  hidden  source  of  evil,  the  heai-t 
 of  man.  No  soft  veil  of  conventionality 
 disguised  sin  from  His  penetrating  eye. 
 No  illusions  of  words  and  forms  and  pro- 
 fessions subdued,  before  the  glance  of 
 Incarnate  Truth,  the  unsightliness  of 
 hypocrisy  and  vice.  Wherever  and  in 
 whatsoever  guise  sin  was.  He  saw  it. 
 It  was  to  Him  as  if  the  mask  were  torn 
 off,  and  a  skeleton  face  revealed  in  all 
 its  hideousness,  as  if  a  flower-strewn  bank 
 was  laid  open,  and  a  nest  of  serpents  dis- 
 closed beneath.  With  a  nature  formed 
 and  habituated  to  breathe  the  air  of 
 heaven's  eternal  purity.  He  dwelt  amidst 
 the  charnel-house  loathsomeness  and  cor- 
 ruption of  evil.  And  for  this  very  reason, 
 that  He  was  Himself  without  the  faintest 
 personal  implication  in  sin.  He  suifered 
 from  contact  with  it  in  an  agony  all  the 
 more  acute.  Caird. 
 
 JESUS— Seeking. 
 
 I  sought  Thee  when  my  heart  was  low, 
 
 I  found  Thee  and  my  hopes  revived, 
 And  all  the  world  from  me  shall  know 
 
 What  comfort  I  from  Thee  derived ; 
 All  that  I  needed,  all  and  more, 
 Thy  presence  did  to  me  restore. 
 
 I  laid  my  burden  at  Thy  feet. 
 My  head  upon  Thy  tender  breast. 
 
 Thy  name  of  Love  I  did  repeat, 
 
 And  Thou  didst  understand  the  rest ; 
 
 All  that  I  needed,  all  and  more, 
 
 Th.y  presence  did  to  me  restore. 
 
 r  wept  the  sorrow  of  my  heart, 
 
 And  Thou  mine  eyes  didst  gently  dry ; 
 
 1  sighed  through  fear  that  we  must  part. 
 But  Thou  didst  whisper,  "  Ever  nigh !" 
 
 It  was  enough,  I  asked  no  more. 
 
 Thy  voice  did  all  my  life  restore. 
 
 And  now  that  life  to  Thee  I'll  give. 
 With  calmer  trust  and  brighter  joy ; 
 
 In  Thee,  and  for  Thee,  I  will  live. 
 To  do  Thy  will  my  sole  employ ; 
 
 Thus  most  secure  to  part  no  more 
 
 With  that  sweet  joy  Thou  didst  restore. 
 
 Monsell. 
 
 JESUS— Serenity  of. 
 
 Remember  the  Son  of  Man  standing 
 quietly  in  the  porches  of  Bethesda,  when 
 the  streets  all  around  were  tilled  with  the 
 revelry  of  innumerable  multitudes,  who  had 
 come  to  be  present  at  the  annual  feast. 
 Remember  Him  pausing  to  weep  over  His 
 country's  doomed  metropolis,  unexcited 
 while  the  giddy  crowd  around  Him  were 
 shouting,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David  !" 
 Remember  Him  in  Pilate's  judgment-hall, 
 meek,  self-possessed,  standing  in  the  se- 
 renity of  truth,  while  all  around  Him  was 
 agitation — hesitation  in  the  breast  of 
 Pilate,  hatred  in  the  bosom  of  the  Pha- 
 
502 
 
 JESUS. 
 
 risees,  consternation  in  the  heart  of  the 
 disciples.  jF.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 JESUS— Sight  of. 
 
 To  see  Jesus  clearly  with  the  eye  of 
 faith  is  to  see  the  deep  opening  a  way 
 from  Egypt  to  freedom's  shore ;  is  to  see 
 the  water  gush  full  and  sparkling  from  the 
 desert  rock  ;  is  to  see  the  serpent  gleaming 
 on  its  pole  over  a  dying  camp  ;  is  to  see 
 the  life  boat  coming  when  our  bark  is 
 thumping  on  the  bank,  or  ground  on  rocks 
 by  foaming  breakers  ;  it  is  to  see  a  pardon 
 when  the  noose  is  round  our  neck,  and  our 
 foot  is  on  the  drop.  No  sight  in  the  wide 
 world  like  Jesus  Christ,  with  forgiveness 
 on  His  lips,  and  a  crown  in  His  blessed 
 hand  !  This  is  worth  labouring  for ;  pray- 
 ing for;  living  for;  suffering  for;  dying 
 for.  You  remember  how  the  prophet's 
 servant  dim  bed  the  steeps  of  Carmel.  Three 
 years,  and  never  cloud  had  dappled  the 
 burning  sky — three  long  years,  and  never  a 
 dew  drop  had  glistened  on  the  grass,  or  wet 
 the  lips  of  a  dying  flower ;  but  the  cloud 
 came  at  last.  No  bigger  than  a  man's 
 hand  it  rose  from  the  sea  ;  it  spread  ;  and 
 as  he  saw  the  first  lightning's  flash,  and 
 heard  the  first  thunder's  roll,  how  did  he 
 forget  all  his  toils,  and  would  have  climbed 
 the  hill  not  ocven,  but  seventy  times  seven 
 times,  to  hail  that  welcome  sight  ! 
 
 It  is  so  with  sinners,  so  soon  as  their 
 eyes  are  gladdened  with  a  believing  sight 
 of  Christ ;  when  they  have  got  Christ,  and 
 with  Him  peace.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 JESUS— Silence  of. 
 
 The  reticence  of  Jesus  is  one  of  the  most 
 remarkable  of  His  characteristics.  What 
 He  might  have  told  us,  in  comjiarison  of 
 what  He  has — of  man,  of  God,  of  the 
 future  on  earth,  of  the  eternal  state !  "  He 
 knew  what  was  in  man."  "  The  Son  only 
 knoweth  the  Father."  "  Thou,  Lord,  know- 
 est  all  things."  But  He  remained  silent. 
 Nor  was  His  silence  forced  and  reluctant. 
 It  was  wise  and  willing.  It  seemed  na- 
 tural to  Him,  as  is  their  twinkling  silence 
 to  the  stars.  Tliis  surrounded  Him  with  a 
 peculiar  grandeur.  The  greatest  objects  in 
 the  universe  are  the  stillest.  The  ocean 
 has  a  voice,  but  the  sun  is  silent.  The 
 seraphim  sing,  the  Shekiuah  is  dumb.  The 
 forests  murmur,  but  the  constellations 
 speak  not.  Aaron  spoke,  Moses'  face  but 
 slione.  Sweetly  might  the  high  priest 
 discourse,  but  the  Urim  and  Thumraim,  the 
 blazing  stones  upon  his  breast,  flashed 
 forth  a  meaning  deeper  and  diviner  far. 
 Jesus,  like  a  sheep  before  her  shearers,  was 
 dumb  in  death  ;  but  still  moi-e  marvellous 
 was  the  self-denied  and  God-silence  of  His 
 life.  Gilfdlan. 
 
 JESUS— Solitude  of. 
 
 The  solitude  of  Jesus  was  not  the  soli- 
 tude of  the  hermit  or  the  monk  — He  lived 
 ever  with  and  among  His  fellow-men  ;  not 
 the  solitude  of  pride,  sullenly  refusing  all 
 sympathy  and  aidj  not  the  solitude  of 
 selfishness,  creating  around  its  icy  centre 
 a  cold,  bleak,  barren  wilderness ;  not  the 
 solitude  of  sickly  sentimentality,  for  ever 
 crying  out  that  it  can  find  no  one  to  under- 
 stand  or  appreciate.  No;  but  the  solitude 
 of  a  pure,  holy,  heavenly  spirit,  into  all 
 whose  deeper  thoughts  there  was  not  a 
 single  human  being  near  Him  or  around 
 Him  who  could  enter;  with  all  whose 
 deeper  feelings  there  was  not  one  who 
 could  sympathise ;  whose  truest,  deepest 
 motives,  ends,  and  objects,  in  living  and 
 dying  as  He  did,  not  one  could  comprehend. 
 Spiritually,  and  all  throughout,  the  lone- 
 liest man  that  ever  lived  was  Jesus  Christ. 
 But  there  were  hours  when  that  solitude 
 deepened  upon  His  soul.  So  was  it  in  the 
 garden,  when  but  a  stonecast  from  the 
 nearest  to  Him  on  earth,  even  that  broken, 
 imperfect  sympathy  which  their  looking  on 
 Him  and  watching  with  Him  in  His  great 
 sorrow  might  have  supplied,  was  denied  to 
 Him,  and  an  angel  had  to  be  sent  from 
 heaven  to  cheer  the  forsaken  one  of  earth. 
 So  was  it  upon  the  cross,  in  that  dread 
 moment,  when  He  could  no  longer  say, 
 "  I  am  not  alone,  for  my  Father  is  with 
 me;"  when  there  burst  from  His  d^ing 
 lips  that  cry — a  cry  from  the  darkest, 
 deepest,  dreariest  loneliness  into  which  a 
 pure  and  holy  spirit  ever  passed — "  My 
 God,  my  God!  why  hast  Thou  forsaken 
 me  ?  "  Dr.  Manna, 
 
 JESUS  (Sufferings  of)— Anticipated. 
 
 From  eternity  they  had  risen  on  His 
 view.  When  He  rejoiced,  by  benevolent 
 anticipation,  in  "  the  habitable  part  of  the 
 earth,"  He  contemplated  it  as  a  stage  for 
 their  endurance.  Gethsemane  was  there 
 as  well  as  Eden ;  the  river  which  watered 
 the  garden  in  which  the  first  Adam  was 
 placed,  did  not  ravish  Him  more  with  its 
 sweet  music  than  Kedron  then  murmured 
 mournfully  on  the  ear  of  the  second  Adam, 
 as  if  ready  to  drink  His  tears;  and  the 
 original  tree  which  was  "  made  to  grow 
 out  of  tlie  ground,"  contained  the  germ  of 
 the  cross.  He  beheld,  when  bidding  the 
 deluge  to  subside,  the  hill  Calvary,  more 
 prominent  to  His  eye  than  the  peak  of 
 Ararat,  emerging  from  its  bosom.  He 
 foresaw,  when  He  rained  fire  upon  Sodom, 
 "  the  great  city  which  is  spiritually  called 
 by  that  name,  where  He  was  crucified." 
 His  death  was  perpetually  imaged  in 
 bleeding  mysteries,  and  announced  by 
 prophetic  oracles.  Had  He  been  able  or 
 disposed  to  forget  it,  the  reiterations  of  its 
 
JESUS— JEWS. 
 
 503 
 
 siprns  was  too  frequent,  and  the  assertion 
 of  its  horrors  too  distinct. 
 
 Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 Human  heroism  has  performed  deeds  of 
 daring  valour  in  the  heat  and  excitement 
 of  the  conflict,  from  which,  had  they  been 
 foreseen  in  cahner  hours,  it  would  have 
 shrunk  dismayed.  The  voyager  will  tempt 
 the  sea  when  its  waves  are  calm,  and  its 
 aspects  smiling  >  could  he  anticipate  the 
 terrors  of  the  storm  and  the  shipwreck, 
 nothing  would  induce  him  to  embark.  But 
 the  Lord  Jesus,  the  Lamb  slain  from  the 
 foundation  of  the  world,  had  before  His 
 prescient  gaze,  amidst  the  heights  of  glory, 
 all  the  darkness  of  that  sea  of  sorrows 
 through  which  He  must  pass,  as  clearly  as 
 when  the  waters  went  over  His  soul ;  yet 
 was  "  His  love  stronger  than  death — many 
 waters  could  not  quench  it."  Caird. 
 
 JESUS— Truth  as  in. 
 
 Truth  in  Him  is  not  a  dogma,  but  a 
 life ;  not  a  mere  letter,  but  a  spirit.  It  is 
 a  thing  of  beauty  and  power.  It  meets 
 the  moral  soul  of  humanity  as  light  meets 
 the  eye,  as  water  the  parched  tongue,  as 
 bread  tlie  hungry  soul.  It  is  wonderfully 
 suggestive ;  it  opens  a  boundless  realm  of 
 tluiught.  The  most  comprehensive  system 
 of  theology  in  existence  is  but  as  a  little 
 garden  cut  out  from  the  great  continents 
 of  the  earth,  as  compared  with  the  truth 
 as  in  Jesus.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 JESUS— Working  for. 
 
 When  Jacob  worked  for  Rachel,  sweet 
 smiles  lit  up  his  shepherding ;  so  life 
 brightens  when  expended  for  Jesus. 
 
 S.  Coley. 
 JESUS— World  without. 
 
 What  would  the  world  be  without  Jesus  ? 
 We  may  perhaps  have  sometimes  made 
 pictures  to  ourselves  of  the  day  of  judg- 
 ment. We  may  have  imagined  the  storms 
 above  and  the  earthquakes  underneath,  the 
 sun  and  the  moon  darkened,  and  the  stars 
 falling  from  heaven,  the  fire  raging  over 
 the  face  of  the  earth,  men  crying  to  the 
 mountains  and  rocks  to  fall  upon  them  and 
 hide  them,  and  in  the  ma^^sesof  the  eastern 
 clouds  Jesus  coming  to  judge  the  world. 
 We  think  it  appropriate  to  add  to  the  pic- 
 ture every  feature  of  physical  tumult  and 
 desolation,  every  wildest  unchaining  of  the 
 elements,  although  doubtless  the  catas- 
 trophe of  that  day  of  horrors  will  follow 
 the  grand  uniformity  of  a  natural  law,  even 
 amidst  the  impetuosity  of  its  convulsions. 
 Yet  the  misery  and  confusion  of  earth  upon 
 that  day  will  have  less  of  real  horror  in  it 
 tlian  the  earth  without  Jesus  would  have, 
 even  though  the  sun  were  shining,  and  the 
 flowers  blooming,  and  the  birds  singing. 
 
 An  earth  without  hope  or  happiness,  with- 
 out love  or  peace,  the  past  a  burden,  the 
 present  a  weariness,  the  future  a  shapeless 
 terror  ;  such  would  the  earth  be  if  by  im- 
 possibility there  were  no  Jesus. 
 
 Dr.  F.  W.  Faber. 
 JEWELS— Saviour's. 
 
 The  stories  of  subterranean  caves,  where 
 brilliant  diamonds,  thickly  studding  vaulted 
 roof  and  fretted  wall,  supply  the  place  of 
 lamps,  are  fancies — childhood's  fairy  tales. 
 Incredible  as  it  may  appear  to  ignorance, 
 on  whose  admiring  eyes  it  flashes  rays  of 
 light,  science  proves  that  the  diamond  is 
 formed  of  the  very  same  matter  as  common, 
 dull,  black  coaL  It  boasts  no  native  light ; 
 and  dark  in  the  darkness,  as  the  mine  or 
 rock  where  it  lies  imbedded,  it  shines,  if 
 with  a  beautiful,  yet  with  a  borrowed  splen- 
 dour. How  meet  an  emblem  of  the  price- 
 less jewels  that  adorn  the  Saviour's  crown. 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 JEWS— in  the  World. 
 
 Having  taken  special  pains  within  the 
 last  twelve  years  to  collect  carefully  from 
 missionary  statistics,  furnished  by  the 
 missionaries  among  the  Jews  throughout 
 the  world — missionaries  numbering  at  least 
 two  hundred  and  fifty,  a  source  the  most 
 reliable — I  take  a  pleasure  in  furnishing  a 
 table  in  a  specified  order,  as  to  the  actual 
 numbers  already  known. 
 
 China,  including  Ka-fung- 
 
 fu             .           .           . 
 
 60,000 
 
 Russian  Possessions  in  Asi 
 
 1          3,000 
 
 Russia  Proper    . 
 
 ,  1,200,000 
 
 Poland       . 
 
 .  2,200,000 
 
 Prussia  Proper  . 
 
 .      135,000 
 
 Austria 
 
 .      453,524 
 
 Confederate  States  of  Ger 
 
 many 
 
 .      138,000 
 
 Amsterdam  in  Holland 
 
 35,000 
 
 The  Netherlands 
 
 50,000 
 
 France 
 
 81,000 
 
 Italy 
 
 200,000 
 
 England    , 
 
 60,000 
 
 Ionian  Isles 
 
 7,000 
 
 Danish  States    . 
 
 15,000 
 
 Sweden 
 
 1,700 
 
 Switzerland 
 
 i,yoo 
 
 Gibraltar  . 
 
 4,000 
 
 Galacia      . 
 
 200,000 
 
 Netherlandish  Colonies 
 
 500 
 
 Kingston,  West  Indies 
 
 5,000 
 
 Demarara,  Esequibo 
 
 200 
 
 New  Holland     . 
 
 50 
 
 St.  Domingo 
 
 5,000 
 
 Porto  Rico 
 
 3,300 
 
 North  America 
 
 700,000 
 
 South  America 
 
 10,000 
 
 Fez,    in  Africa    and    Mo 
 
 rocco 
 
 .       300,000 
 
 Tunis 
 
 .       130,000 
 
 Algiers      . 
 
 30,000 
 
 Habesh     . 
 
 20,000 
 
504 
 
 JOKE— JOY  IN  HEAVEN. 
 
 Tripoli  ....  12,000 
 Egypt  ....  12,000 
 In  the  Turkish  Dominions 
 
 in  Europe  and  Asia  there 
 
 are  ....  2,500,000 
 
 Besides  those  in  the  East, 
 
 at  least  ....  7,000,000 
 
 15,573,194 
 
 S.  Bonhomme. 
 JOKE— Risking  a. 
 
 Never  risk  a  joke,  even  the  least  offen- 
 sive in  its  nature,  and  the  most  common, 
 with  a  person  who  is  not  well  bred,  and 
 possessed  of  sense  to  comprehend  it. 
 
 La  Bruiiere. 
 JOY— Christian's. 
 
 His  is  a  modest  humble  exultation,  a 
 serious,  severe  joy;  suitable  to  his  solid 
 stable  hope.  His  spirit  is  not  puffed  up 
 and  swollen  with  air,  it  is  not  big  by  an  in- 
 flation or  a  light  and  windy  tumour;  but  it 
 is  really  filled  with  effectual  preapprehen- 
 sions  of  a  weighty  glory.  His  joy  accord- 
 ingly exerts  itself  with  a  steady  lively 
 vigour,  equally  removed  from  vain  light- 
 ness and  stupidity,  from  conceitedness  and 
 insensibleness  of  liis  blessed  state.  He  for- 
 gets not  that  he  is  less  than  the  least  of 
 God's  mercies,  but  disowns  not  his  title  to 
 the  greatest  of  them.  He  abases  himself 
 to  the  dust  in  the  sense  of  his  own  vileness  ; 
 but  in  tlie  admiration  of  Divine  grace,  he 
 rises  as  high  as  heaven.  In  his  humilia- 
 tion he  affects  to  equal  himself  with  worms, 
 in  his  joy  and  praise  with  angels. 
 
 John  Howe. 
 JOY— of  Doing  Good. 
 
 The  joy  resulting  from  the  diffusion  of 
 blessings  to  all  around  us  is  the  purest 
 Bnd  sublimest  that  can  ever  enter  the 
 human  mind,  and  can  be  conceived  only  by 
 those  who  have  experienced  it.  Next  to 
 the  consolations  of  Divine  grace,  it  is  the 
 most  sovereign  l)alm  to  the  miseries  of  life, 
 both  in  him  who  is  the  object  of  it,  and 
 in  him  who  exercises  it;  and  it  vvill  not 
 only  soothe  and  tranquillise  a  troubled 
 spirit,  but  inspire  a  constant  flow  of  good 
 humour,  content,  and  gaiety  of  heart. 
 
 Bp.  Forteus. 
 JOY— Life  without. 
 
 What  is  our  life  without  joy  ?  Without 
 joy  we  can  do  nothing.  We  are  like  an 
 instrument  out  of  tune.  An  instrument 
 out  of  tune,  it  yields  but  harsh  music. 
 Without  joy  we  are  a  member  out  of  joint. 
 We  can  do  nothing  well  without  joy,  and 
 a  good  conscience,  which  is  the  ground  of 
 joy.  Sihbes. 
 
 JOY— Nature  of. 
 
 Joy  is  the  happiness  of  love.  It  is  love 
 exulting.  It  is  love  aware  of  its  own 
 felicity,  and  rioting  in  riches  which  it  has 
 
 no  fear  of  exhausting.  It  is  love  taking  a 
 look  of  its  treasure,  and  surrendering  itself 
 to  bliss  without  foreboding. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 JOY — Primeval. 
 
 Joy  was  then  a  masculine  and  a  severe 
 thing ;  the  recreation  of  the  judgment,  the 
 jubilee  of  reason.  It  was  the  result  of  a 
 real  good  suitably  applied.  It  commenced 
 upon  the  solidities  of  truth,  and  the  sub- 
 stance of  fruition.  It  did  not  run  out  in 
 vice,  or  indecent  eruptions,  but  filled  the 
 soul  as  God  doth  the  universe,  silently  and 
 without  noise.  It  was  refreshing  but  com- 
 posed ;  like  the  pleasantness  of  youth  tem- 
 pered with  the  gravity  of  age ;  or  the 
 mirth  of  a  festival  managed  with  the  silence 
 of  contemplation.  Dr.  Soiifh. 
 
 JOY    IN    HEAVEN— over     a    Repentant 
 Sinner. 
 
 As  a  husbandman  delights  much  in  that 
 ground,  that  after  long  barrenness,  becomi's 
 fruitful  ;  as  a  captain  loves  that  soldier 
 that  once  fled  away  cowardly,  and  after- 
 wards returned  valiantly ;  even  so  God  is 
 wonderfully  enamoured  with  a  sinner  that, 
 having  once  made  shipwreck  of  a  good 
 conscience,  yet  at  last  returns,  and  swims 
 to  heaven  upon  the  plank  of  faith  and 
 repentance.  Spencer. 
 
 Suppose  one  of  your  little  brothers 
 should  fall  into  the  river,  and  there  sink 
 down  under  the  deep  waters,  and  before  he 
 could  be  got  out  he  should  grow  cold  and 
 pale,  and  seem  to  be  dead.  Your  father 
 takes  the  little  boy  in  his  arms,  and  carries 
 him  home,  and  then  they  wrap  him  up  in 
 warm  fl;innels,  and  lay  him  on  the  bed. 
 The  doctor  comes,  and  goes  into  the  room 
 with  your  ftither  and  mother,  to  see  if  it  is 
 possible  to  save  the  little  boy's  life.  The 
 doctor  says  that  nobody  may  go  into  the 
 room  but  the  parents.  They  go  in,  and 
 shut  the  door ;  in  a  few  minutes  the 
 question  is  to  be  decided  whether  or  no  the 
 child  can  live.  Oh  !  then  how  would  you 
 go  to  the  door,  and  walk  round  with  a  step, 
 soft  as  velvet,  and  hearken  to  know  whether 
 the  dear  boy  lives  ?  And  after  you  have 
 listened  for  some  time,  treading  softly  and 
 speaking  in  whispers,  and  breathing  short, 
 the  door  opens,  and  your  mother  comes 
 out,  and  there  are  tears  in  her  eyes.  '•  Is 
 he  dead  ?"  says  one  in  a  faint,  sinking 
 whisper  ;  "is  he  dead  ?"  "  Oh  !  no — no  ; 
 your  little  brother  lives,  and  will  be  well 
 again."  Oh  !  what  a  thrill  of  joy  do  y.iu 
 all  feel !  What  leaping  up  in  gladness  ! 
 Now  there  is  such  a  joy  in  heaven  over  one 
 sinner  that  rejienteth.  The  sinner  has  been 
 sick,  but  the  Gospel  has  been  received  as 
 the  remedy,  and  he  is  to  live  for  ever.  Do 
 you  wonder  that  the  angels  rejince  at  it  ? 
 ^Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
JOY  IN  HEAVEN— JOYS. 
 
 505 
 
 JOY  IN  HEAVEN  — over  a  Repentant 
 Sinner. 
 Just  turn  to  the  21st  chapter  of  Num- 
 bers, and  read  the  account  of  the  healing 
 of  those  who  had  been  bitten  by  the  tiery 
 serpents.  Had  you  been  there  you  might 
 have  seen  parents  carrying  their  little 
 children  who  had  been  bitten,  and  who 
 were  just  ready  to  die.  The  poisou  of  the 
 serpents  is  circulating  through  them,  and 
 they  are  almost  gone.  The  mother  brings 
 up  her  child  to  the  brazen  serpent.  Oh  ! 
 how  anxious  is  she  lest  it  has  not  got 
 strength  sufficient  to  look  up  !  How  ten- 
 derly does  she  look  upon  its  face,  as  she 
 holds  it  up  to  the  brazen  serpent,  waiting 
 for  it  to  open  its  eyes  ;  and  what  joy  when 
 it  does  look  up  and  live  !  So  there  is  joy 
 in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over 
 one  sinner  that  repenteth.  Ibid. 
 
 Angels  "  rejoice  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
 penteth." Contrite  spirits  and  broken 
 hearts  have  an  attraction  for  them  which 
 they  cannot  resist.  As  their  Lord  came  not 
 to  "  call  the  righteous  but  sinners  to  re- 
 pentance," so  they  are  filled  with  an 
 ardour  and  excess  of  joy  in  witnessing  the 
 penitent,  far  greater  than  they  evince  over 
 "  the  just  who  need  no  repentance."  Let 
 man  the  most  degraded,  the  most  dis- 
 owned— the  slave,  the  outcast — in  the 
 desert  cave,  on  the  ocean  billow — chasten 
 and  afflict  himself,  and  angels  are  immedi- 
 ately at  his  side  with  all  their  sympathy. 
 From  no  mine  can  they  pluck  a  gem  rich 
 as  a  sinner's  heart-wrung  tear,  to  catch 
 and  bear  to  heaven — nor  can  all  the  sym- 
 phonies of  the  harmonious  universe  delight 
 them  as  the  sweet  music  of  the  sinner's 
 sigh.  Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 JOY  OP  THE  SINNER. 
 
 Like  new  liquor,  which  works  over  in 
 foam  and  froth  when  thick  and  troubled, 
 the  joy  of  the  sinner  runs  over  in  empty 
 laughter  and  effervescent  spirits,  when  the 
 heart  is  brimful  of  the  wrath  of  God. 
 
 Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 JOY  OF  SINNER  AND  SAINT, 
 
 Lightning  and  light  may  suitably  illus- 
 trate the  difterence  between  the  joy  of  the 
 sinner  and  the  saint.  The  one  is  like 
 lightning,  short,  hurried,  transient,  scorch- 
 ing. The  other  is  like  light,  lasting, 
 healthfid,  beautiful,  healing,  &c.        Anon. 
 
 JOY  OF  THE  WORLD. 
 
 It  is  that  trivial,  vanishing,  superficial 
 thing,  that  only  gilds  the  apprehension, 
 and  plays  upon  the  surface  of  the  soul.  It 
 is  the  mere  crackling  of  thorns,  a  sudden 
 blaze  of  the  spirits,  the  exultation  of  a 
 tickled  fancy,  or  a  pleased  appetite. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 JOY  OF  THE  WORLD— Short. 
 
 The  joy  of  the  world  resembles  a  torrent. 
 As,  upon  a  glut  of  rain,  you  shall  have  a 
 torrent  come  rolling  along  with  noise  and 
 violence,  overflowing  its  banks,  and  beariiTg 
 all  before  it ;  yet  it  is  but  muddy  and  im- 
 pure water,  and  it  is  soon  gone  and  dried 
 up  ;  such  is  all  the  joy  this  world  can  give  : 
 it  makes  a  great  noise,  it  is  commonly  im- 
 moderate and  swells  beyond  its  due  bounds  ; 
 yet  it  is  but  a  muddy  and  impure  joy;  it 
 soon  rolls  away,  and  leaves  nothing  behind 
 but  a  drought  in  the  soul.  Now,  since  the 
 world's  joy  is  but  such  a  poor  empty  thing 
 as  this,  it  is  most  gross  folly  for  us  to  lay 
 out  our  best  love  upon  that  which  cannot 
 repay  us  with  the  best  joy.     Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 JOY  AND  SORROW. 
 
 A  good  man  hath  more  sorrows  than  the 
 wicked  know  of: — his  own  offences,  the 
 sins  of  others,  the  dishonour  of  God,  the 
 increase  of  Satan's  kingdom,  and  the  present 
 misery  of  his  near  relatives.  When  the 
 profane  man  pours  out  his  blasphemies  he 
 drops  a  tear,  and  is  petitioning  Heaven  for 
 his  pardon.  But  he  has  one  joy  to 
 strengthen  him  against  all  his  sorrows, 
 viz.,  the  truth  of  God's  promises. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 JOY,  GLADNESS,  MIRTH. 
 
 The  happy  condition  of  the  soul  is  desig- 
 nated by  all  these  terms;  but  the  joy  and 
 gladness  lie  more  internal ;  the  mirth  is 
 the  more  immediate  result  of  external  cir- 
 cumstances. What  creates  joy  and  glad- 
 ness is  of  a  permanent  nature;  that  which 
 creates  mirth  is  temporary  :  joy  is  the  most 
 vivid  sensation  in  the  soul ;  gladness  is  the 
 same  in  quality,  but  inferior  in  degree: 
 joy  is  awakened  in  the  mind  by  the  most 
 important  events  in  life;  gladness  springs 
 up  in  the  mind  on  ordinary  occasions  :  the 
 return  of  the  prodigal  son  awakened  joy 
 in  the  heart  of  the  father;  a  man  feels 
 gladness  at  being  relieved  from  some  dis- 
 tress or  trouble  :  public  events  of  a  gratify- 
 ing nature  produce  universal ^o^,-  the  re- 
 lief from  either  sickness  or  want  brings 
 gladness  to  an  opjiressed  heart ;  he  who  is 
 absorbed  in  his  private  distresses  is  ill  pre- 
 pared to  partake  of  the  mirth  which  he  is 
 surrounded  with  at  the  festive  board. 
 
 G.  Crabb. 
 JOYS— Gospel. 
 
 There  are  no  joys  like  those  which  the 
 Gospel  imparts  ;  none  so  solid,  none  so  ex- 
 quisite andheart-refining,  none  so  enduring. 
 Speak  not  of  the  false  pleasures  of  the 
 world,  its  bewildering  excitement,  its  in- 
 toxicating gaieties,  its  lying  vanities , 
 these,  you  know  full  well,  are  a  cheat 
 upon  your  senses,  the  flashings  of  decep- 
 tion, that  leave  their  poor  deluded  votaries 
 in  deeper  gloom.  It  belongs  to  the  glorious 
 
506 
 
 JOYS— JTJDGMENT-DAY. 
 
 G'ispel  alone  to  afford  substantial  and  en- 
 during joy.  W.  J.  Brock. 
 
 JOYS— Little  and  Great, 
 ,  Little  joys  refresh  us   constantly,  like 
 house-bread,  and  never  bring  disgust ;  and 
 great  ones,  like  sugar-bread,  briefly,  and 
 then  bring  it.  Richter. 
 
 JOYS  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN— Invisible. 
 
 St.  Augustine  relates  of  a  certain  Gen- 
 tile, who  showed  hiin  his  idol  gods,  saying, 
 "  Here  is  my  god  ;  where  is  thine  ?"  then, 
 pointing  up  at  the  sun,  he  said,  "Lo! 
 here  is  my  god;  where  is  thine?"  So, 
 showing  him  divers  creatures,  still  up- 
 braided him  with,  "Here  are  my  gods, 
 where  are  tliine  ?"  But  St.  Augustine 
 answered  him,  I  showed  him  not  ray  God, 
 not  because  I  had  not  one  to  show  him, 
 but  because  he  had  not  eyes  to  see  Him. 
 Thus  the  joys  of  a  Christian,  though  they 
 cannot  be  seen  with  bodily  eyes,  though 
 the  wicked  cannot  so  much  as  discern  them , 
 yet  is  there  nothing  so  delightful,  so  com- 
 fortable as  they  are ;  witness  that  peace  of 
 conscience,  that  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 which  is  so  unspeakable,  such  as  eye  hath 
 not  seen,  nor  ear  hath  heard,  neitlier  hath 
 it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive 
 them  as  they  are.  Sjiencer. 
 
 JOYS  AND  SORROWS. 
 
 Joys  are  our  wings,  sorrows  are  our 
 spurs.  Richter. 
 
 JOSHUA— a  Type  of  Christ. 
 
 If  we  look  upon  Joshua  as  the  "  minister 
 of  Moses,"  he  is  even  in  that  a  type  of 
 Christ,  the  "  minister  of  the  circumcision 
 for  the  truth  of  God"  (Exod.  xxiv,  13; 
 Josh,  i,  1 ;  Rom.  xv,  8).  If  we  look  on 
 him  as  the  successor  of  Moses,  in  that  he 
 representeth  Jesus,  inasmuch  as  "  the  law 
 was  given  by  Moses,  but  grace  and  truth 
 came  by  Jesus  Christ"  (John  i,  17).  If 
 we  look  on  him  as  now  judge  and  ruler  of 
 Israel,  there  is  scarce  an  action  which  is 
 not  clearly  predictive  of  our  Saviour.  He 
 begins  his  office  at  the  banks  of  Jordan, 
 where  Christ  is  baptized,  and  enters  upon 
 the  public  exercise  of  His  prophetical  office; 
 he  chooseth  there  twelve  men  out  of  the 
 people  to  carry  twelve  stones  over  with 
 them  ;  as  our  Jesus  tlience  began  to  choose 
 His  twelve  apostles,  those  foundation  stones 
 in  the  Church  of  God,  whose  "  names  are 
 in  the  twelve  foundations  of  the  wall  of 
 the  holy  city,  the  New  Jerusalem."  It  hath 
 been  observed,  that  the  saving  Rahab,  the 
 harlot,  alive,  foretold  what  Jesus  once 
 should  speak  to  the  Jews,  "  Verily,  I  say 
 unto  you,  that  the  publicans  and  harlots 
 go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you." 
 "  He  said  in  the  sight  of  Israel,  Sun,  stand 
 thou  still  upon  Gibeon ;  and  the  sun  stood 
 
 still  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  and  hasted  not 
 to  go  down  about  a  whole  day  "  (Josh,  x, 
 12,  13).  Which  great  miracle  was  not 
 only  wrought  by  the  power  of  Him  whose 
 name  he  bare,  but  did  also  signify  that  in 
 the  latter  days,  towards  the  setting  of  the 
 sun,  when  the  light  of  the  world  was  tend- 
 ing to  a  night  of  darkness,  "  the  Sun  of 
 Righteousuess  should  arise  with  healing  in 
 His  wings,"  and,  giving  a  check  to  the 
 approaching  night,  become  "  the  true 
 Light  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
 Cometh  into  the  world."  Joshua  smote 
 the  Amalekites.  and  subdued  the  Canaan- 
 ites  ;  by  the  first  making  way  to  enter  the 
 land,  by  the  second  giving  possession  of  it. 
 And  Jesus,  our  "  Prince  and  Saviour,  whose 
 kingdom  was  not  of  this  world,"  in  a 
 spiritual  maimer  goeth  in  and  out  before 
 us  against  our  spiriitual  enemies,  subduing 
 sin  and  Satan,  and  so  opening  and  clearing 
 our  way  to  heaven;  destroying  the  last 
 enemy,  death,  so  giving  us  possession  of 
 eternal  life.  Bp.  Pearson. 
 
 JUDGING— Caution  in. 
 
 Never  be  a  judge  between  thy  friends  in 
 any  matter  where  both  set  their  hearts 
 upon  the  victory.  If  strangers  or  enemies 
 be  litigants,  whatever  side  thou  favourest, 
 thou  gettest  a  friend;  but  when  friends 
 are  the  pai-ties,  thou  losest  one. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 JUDGMENT— Evil. 
 
 An  evil  judgment  taken  up  yesterday 
 prepares  another  to-day,  and  this  another 
 to-morrow,  and  so  a  vast  complicated  web 
 of  false  judgments,  in  the  name  of  reason, 
 is  spread  over  all  the  subjects  of  knowledge. 
 We  fall  into  a  state  thus  of  general  con- 
 fusion, in  which  even  the  distinctions  of 
 ku  nvledge  are  lost.  Presenting  our  little 
 mirror  to  the  clear  light  of  God,  we  might 
 have  received  true  images  of  things,  and 
 gotten  by  degrees  a  glorious  wealth  of 
 knowledge  ;  but  we  break  the  miiTor  in  the 
 perversity  of  our  sin,  and  offer  only  the 
 shivered  fragments  to  the  light,  when  of 
 course  we  see  distinctly  nothing.  Then, 
 probably  enough,  we  begin  to  sympathise 
 with  ourselves  and  justify  the  ignorance 
 we  are  iu,  wondering,  if  there  be  a  God, 
 that  He  should  be  so  dark  to  us,  or  that 
 He  should  fiiU  behind  these  walls  of  silence 
 and  suffer  Himself  to  be  only  doubtfully 
 guessed  through  fogs  of  ignorance  and  ob- 
 scurity. Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Book  of  the. 
 
 Mr.  Samuel  Warren  says :  "  I  do  not 
 know  bow  to  express  it,  but  I  have  several 
 times  had  a  transient  consciousness  of  mere 
 ordinary  incidents  then  occurring  having 
 somehow  or  other  happ;med  before,  accom- 
 panied by  a  vanishing  idea  of  being  able 
 
JTJDQMEOT-DAY. 
 
 507 
 
 to  predict  the  sequence.  I  once  mentioned 
 this  to  a  mm  of  powerful  intellect,  and  he 
 said,  '  So  have  I.'  Again,  it  may  be  that 
 there  is  more  of  truth  than  one  suspects  in 
 the  assertion  which  I  met  with  in  a  work 
 of  M.  de  Quincey's,  tXvdt  forgetting — abso- 
 lute forgetting — is  a  thiug  not  possible  to 
 the  human  mind.  Some  evidence  of  this 
 may  be  derived  from  the  fact  of  long- 
 missed  incidents  and  states  of  feeling  sud- 
 denly being  reproduced,  and  without  any 
 perceptible  train  of  association.  Were  this 
 to  be  so,  the  idea  is  very  awful ;  and  it  has 
 been  suggested  by  a  great  thinker  that 
 merely  perfect  memory  of  everything  may 
 constitute  the  great  book  which  shall  be 
 opened  in  the  last  day,  on  which  man  has 
 been  distinctly  told  that  the  secrets  of  all 
 hearts  shall  be  made  known ;  for  all  things 
 are  naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes  of  Rim 
 with  whom  we  have  to  do"  (Heb.  iv,  13). 
 
 An  old  man,  in  describing  the  sensations 
 he  felt  at  drowning,  when  he  was  with 
 difficulty  recovered,  said  he  had  the  ring- 
 ing of  bells  in  his  ears,  which  increased  as 
 consciousness  was  becoming  less ;  and  he 
 felt  as  if  "all  the  bells  of  heaven  were 
 ringing  him  into  Paradise  !" — "  the  most 
 soothing  sensation."  Timhs. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Certainty  of  the. 
 
 This  awfiil  certainty  of  the  judgment 
 prophecy,  arising  out  of  its  being  one  of  a 
 chain  of  predicted  events  (see  Matt,  xxii) 
 of  which  some  are  now  undoubtedly  certain 
 because  already  past,  seems  to  me  so  very 
 important,  as  a  matter  of  practical  impi-es- 
 sion,  that  I  may  be  pardoned  attempting  a 
 further  illustration  of  it.  Take  for  this 
 purpose  some  succession  of  events  familiar 
 to  us  all,  the  more  familiar  the  better. 
 Let  us  suppose  that  at  the  time  when 
 Britain  was  peopled  by  half-savage  tribes, 
 before  the  period  of  the  Roman  sway,  some 
 gifted  seer  among  the  Druids  had  engraven 
 upon  a  rock  a  minute  prediction  of  a  por- 
 tion of  the  future  history  of  the  island. 
 Suppose  he  had  declared  that  it  sliould  ere 
 long  be  conquered  by  a  warrior  people  from 
 tlie  south;  that  he  should  name  the  Caesar 
 himself,  describe  his  eagle  standard,  and 
 all  the  circumstances  of  the  conquest. 
 Suppose  he  should  portray  the  Saxon  in- 
 vasion centuries  after,  the  sevenfold  divi- 
 sion of  the  monarchy,  the  Danish  inroad, 
 tiie  arrival  and  victory  of  the  Normans. 
 Our  imagined  prophet  pauses  here,  or  at 
 whatever  other  precise  jjeriod  you  please 
 to  suppose ;  and  his  next  prediction,  over- 
 leaping a  vast  undescribed  interval,  sud- 
 denly represents  the  England  of  the  present 
 day.  Now  conceive  the  forefathers  of  ex- 
 isting England  to  have  studied  this  won- 
 drous record,  and  to  find  to  their  amaze- 
 ment that  every  one  of  its  predictions  was 
 accurately  verified :  that  as  their  genera- 
 
 tions succeeded  they  but  walked  in  the 
 traces  assigned  for  them  by  the  prophetic 
 inscription,  and  all  it  spoke  progressively 
 became  fact.  Can  we  suppose  that,  how- 
 ever far  away  in  futurity  was  the  one  re- 
 maining event,  and  however  impossible  to 
 them,  at  their  early  stage,  to  conceive  the 
 means  by  which  all  the  present  wonders  of 
 this  mighty  empire  could  ever  be  realised, 
 they  would  permit  themselves  to  doubt  its 
 absolute  certainty  after  such  overwhelming 
 proofs  of  the  supernatural  powers  of  the 
 seer  who  guaranteed  it  ?  Would  they  not 
 shape  their  course  as  confidently  in  view  ef 
 the  unquestionable  future,  as  in  reference 
 to  the  unquestionable  past  ?  In  short, 
 would  not  that  future  be  already  considered 
 in  a  manner  historical,  already  a  fixed  in- 
 tegral portion  of  the  story  of  the  nation  ? 
 It  is  just  thus  we  call  on  you  to  regard 
 the  great  Prophet's  announcement  of  the 
 judgment  to  come.  That  too  is  predicted, 
 but  as  one  event  among  many — among 
 many  that  are  now  undeniably  certain,  for 
 they  are  now  actually  past.  An  event 
 future  when  the  Lord  spoke  is  now  an  old 
 historical  epoch,  and  that  very  event  is 
 here  bound  up  with  the  revelation  of  the 
 judgment.  I  ask  you,  does  not  this  con- 
 nection give  a  terrible  reality  to  our  ex- 
 jjectation  of  that  judgment  ?  That  the  sun 
 shall  rise  to-morrow  is  not  as  certain  as  the 
 judgment  to  come,  for  that  sunrise,  sure  as 
 it  may  be,  can  hardly  be  called  as  sure  as 
 what  we  know  to  be  past,  and  the  past  is 
 not  more  certain  than  the  judgment,  since 
 the  same  unerring  voice,  long  before  either, 
 has  declared  them  both.       Archer  Butler. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Conscience  against  the. 
 The  guilty  conscience  cannot  abide  this 
 day.  The  silly  sheep  when  she  is  taken 
 will  not  bleat,  but  you  may  carry  her  and 
 do  what  you  will  with  her,  and  she  will  be 
 subject ;  but  the  swine,  if  she  be  once 
 taken,  she  will  roar  and  cry,  and  thinks 
 she  is  never  taken  but  to  be  slain  !  So,  of 
 all  things,  the  guilty  conscience  cannot 
 abide  to  hear  of  this  day,  for  they  know 
 that  when  they  hear  of  it,  they  hear  of 
 their  own  condemnation.  I  think  if  there 
 were  a  general  collection  made  tlirough 
 the  whole  world,  that  there  might  be  no 
 judgment-day,  then  God  would  be  so  rich 
 that  the  world  would  go  a-begging,  and  be 
 as  a  waste  wilderness.  Then  the  covetous 
 judge  would  bring  forth  his  bribes;  then 
 the  crafty  lawyer  would  fetch  out  his  bags; 
 the  usurer  would  give  his  gain,  and  a 
 double  thereof.  But  all  the  money  in  the 
 world  will  not  serve  for  our  sin,  but  the 
 judge  must  answer  his  bribes;  he  that 
 hath  money  must  answer  how  he  came  by 
 it,  and  just  condemnation  must  come  upon 
 every  soul  of  them  ;  then  shall  the  sinner 
 be  ever  dying  and  never  dead,  like  the 
 
503 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— JUDGMENTS. 
 
 Salamander  that  is  ever  in  the   fire  and 
 never  consumed.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Disclosures  of  the. 
 
 Many  a  tree  as  it  stands  in  the  forest 
 looks  fair,  fine,  solid,  and  valnable,  which 
 when  cut  down  and  sawed  up  for  use,  re- 
 veals perhaps  rottenness,  cross-grain,  and 
 knots.  There  are  men  which  move  in  the 
 circles  of  society,  who,  to  judge  by  the 
 appearance,  are  almost  all  that  you  could 
 wish  them  to  be  in  moral  conduct ;  but 
 when  dea'h  shall  have  mowed  them  down, 
 and  the  judgment  shall  have  examined 
 them,  what  will  be  the  heart-infidelity,  the 
 secret  sins,  the  unchristian  principles, 
 which  shall  be  disclosed,  rendering  them 
 totally  unfit  for  the  Master's  use  in  the 
 glorious  building  of  the  heavenly  temple. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Foreboding  of  the. 
 
 Traverse  the  earth, — enter  the  gorcrev-^ 
 cities  of  idohitry,  or  accept  the  hospitu:'  y 
 of  its  wandering  tribes, — go  where  wi'l- 
 worship  is  most  fantastic,  and  superstition 
 most  gross, — and  you  will  find  in  man  "  a 
 fearful  looking  for  of  judgment."  The  my- 
 thology of  their  Nemesis  may  vary, — their 
 Elysium  and  Tartarus  may  be  differently 
 depicted, — the  Metempsychosis  may  be  the 
 passage  of  bliss  and  woe,^ — ^still  the  fact  is 
 only  confirmed  by  the  diversity  of  the  forms 
 in  whicb  it  is  presented. 
 
 Dr.  B.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Reckoning  at  the. 
 
 What,  do  you  think  that  God  doth  not 
 remember  our  sins  which  we  do  not  re- 
 gard ?  for  while  we  sin  the  score  runs  on, 
 and  the  Judge  setteth  down  all  in  the 
 table  of  remembrance,  and  His  scroll 
 reacheth  up  to  heaven.  Item,  for  lending 
 to  usury  ;  item,  for  racking  of  rents ;  item, 
 for  starching  thy  ruft's ;  item,  for  curling 
 thy  hair  ;  item,  for  painting  thy  face  ;  item, 
 for  selling  of  benefices ;  item,  for  starving 
 of  souls  ;  item,  for  playing  at  cards  ;  item, 
 for  sleeping  in  the  church ;  item,  for  pro- 
 faning the  Sabbath  day,  with  a  number 
 more  hath  God  to  call  to  account,  for  every 
 one  must  answer  for  himself.  The  forni- 
 cator, for  taking  of  filthy  pleasure ;  the 
 careless  prelate,  for  murthering  so  many 
 thousand  souls  ;  the  landlord,  for  getting 
 money  from  his  poor  tenants  by  racking 
 of  his  rents ;  see  the  rest,  all  they  shall 
 come  like  very  sheep  when  the  trumpet 
 shall  sound,  and  the  heaven  and  earth  shall 
 come  to  judgment  against  them ;  when  the 
 heavens  shall  vanish  like  a  scroll,  and  the 
 earth  shall  consume  like  fire,  and  all  the 
 creatures  standing  against  them ;  the  rocks 
 shall  cleave  asunder,  and  the  mountains 
 shake,  and  the  foundation  of  the  earth 
 shall  tremble,  and  they  shall  say  to  the 
 
 mountains.  Cover  us,  fall  upon  us,  and  hide 
 us  from  the  presence  of  His  anger  and 
 wrath,  whom  we  have  not  cared  to  off'end. 
 But  they  shall  not  be  covered  and  hid ;  but 
 then  shall  they  go  the  black  way,  to  the 
 snakes  and  serpents,  to  be  tormented  of 
 devils  for  ever.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 JUDGMENT-DAY— Scene  of  the. 
 
 Imagine  you  see  a  sinner  going  to  hell, 
 and  his  acquaintances  look  at  him,  the 
 angels  shout  at  him,  and  the  saints  laugh 
 at  him,  and  the  devils  rail  at  him,  and 
 many  look  him  in  the  face,  and  they  that 
 said  they  would  live  and  die  with  him, 
 forsake  him  and  leave  him  to  pay  all  the 
 scores.  Then  Judas  would  restore  his 
 bribes ;  Esau  would  cast  up  his  pottage  ; 
 Achan  would  cast  down  his  gold,  and  Ge- 
 hazi  would  refuse  his  gifts;  Nebuchad- 
 nezzar would  be  humbler;  Balaam  would 
 be  faithful,  and  the  prodigal  would  be  tame. 
 Methinks  Isee  Achan  running  about,  Wliere 
 shall  I  hide  my  gold  that  I  have  stolen, 
 that  it  might  not  be  seen  nor  stand  to  ap- 
 pear for  witness  against  me  ?  And  .ludas 
 running  to  the  high  priests,  saying,  Hold, 
 take  again  your  money,  I  will  none  of  it, 
 I  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood.  And 
 Esau  crying  for  the  blessing  when  it  is  too 
 late,  having  sold  his  birthright  for  a  mess 
 of  pottage.  Herod  shall  then  wish  he  were 
 John  the  Baptist ;  Pharaoh  that  he  were 
 Moses,  and  Saul  wish  that  he  had  been 
 David  ;  Nebuchadnezzar  that  he  had  been 
 Daniel;  Haman  to  have  been  Mordecai ; 
 Esau  would  wish  to  be  Jacob  ;  and  Balaam 
 would  wish  he  might  have  died  the  death 
 of  the  righteous.  Ibid. 
 
 JUDGMENT  AND  MERCY  OF  GOD. 
 
 There  is  mention  made  of  a  load>tone  in 
 Ethiopia  which  hath  two  sides ;  with  the 
 one  it  draweth  to,  with  the  other  it  puts 
 the  iron  from  it :  so  God  hath  two  arms, 
 the  one  of  mercy,  the  other  of  judgment; 
 two  hands,  the  one  of  love,  the  other  of 
 wrath  :  with  the  one  He  draweth,  with 
 the  other  He  driveth ;  and  as  He  hath  a 
 right  hand  of  favour  wherewith  to  load 
 the  saints,  so  He  wants  not  a  left  hand  of 
 fury  wherewith  to  dash  the  wickedin  pieces. 
 Sjpencer. 
 JUDGMENTS— Retributive. 
 
 Dr.  Jortin  justly  observes  that  there  is 
 usually  much  rashness  and  presumption  in 
 pronouncing  that  the  calamities  of  sinners 
 are  particular  judgments  of  God;  yet 
 saith  he,  if  from  sacred  and  profane,  frona 
 ancient  and  modern  historians,  a  collection 
 were  made  of  all  the  cruel  persecuting 
 tyrants  who  delighted  in  tormenting  their 
 fellow-creatures,  and  who  died  not  the 
 common  death  of  all  men,  nor  were  visited 
 after  the  visitation  of  all  men,  but  whose 
 plagues  were  horrible  and  strange,  even  a 
 
JUDGMENTS. 
 
 509 
 
 sceptic  would  be  moved  at  the  evidence, 
 and  would  be  apt  to  suspect  that  it  was 
 Bttov  Ti,  that  the  hand  of  God  was  in  it. 
 As  Dr.  Jortin  was  no  enthusiast,  and  one 
 who  would  not  overstrain  the  point,  we 
 shall  here  principally  follow  him  in  his 
 enumeration  of  some  of  the  most  remark- 
 able instances. 
 
 Herod  the  Great  was  the  first  persecutor 
 of  Christianity.  He  attempted  to  destroy 
 Jesus  Christ  Himself,  while  He  was  yet  but 
 a  child,  and  for  that  wicked  purpose  slew 
 all  the  male  children  that  were  in  and 
 about  Bethlehem.  What  was  the  conse- 
 quence ?  Josephus  hath  told  as  :  he  had 
 long  and  grievous  sufferings,  a  burning 
 fever,  a  voracious  appetite,  a  difficulty  of 
 breathing,  swellings  of  his  limbs,  loathsome 
 ulcers  within  and  without,  breeding  ver- 
 min, violent  torments  and  convulsions,  so 
 that  he  endeavoured  to  kill  himself,  but 
 was  restrained  by  his  friends.  The  Jews 
 thought  these  evils  to  be  Divine  judgments 
 upon  him  for  his  wickedness.  And  what  is 
 still  more  remarkable  in  his  case  is,  he 
 left  a  numerous  family  of  children  and 
 grand-children,  though  he  had  put  some 
 to  death,  and  yet  in  about  the  space  of 
 one  hundred  years  the  whole  family  was 
 extinct. 
 
 Herod  Antipas,  who  beheaded  John  the 
 Baptist,  and  treated  Christ  contemptuously 
 when  He  was  brought  before  him,  was  de- 
 feated by  Aretas,  an  Arabian  king,  and 
 afterwards  had  his  dominions  taken  from 
 him,  and  was  sent  into  banishment  along 
 with  his  infamous  wife  Herodias,  by  the 
 emperor  Caius. 
 
 Herod  Agrippa  killed  James  the  brother 
 of  John,  and  put  Peter  in  prison.  The 
 angel  of  the  Lord  soon  after  smote  him, 
 and  he  was  eaten  of  worms,  and  gave  up 
 the  ghost. 
 
 Judas,  that  betrayed  our  Lord,  died,  by 
 his  own  hands,  the  most  ignominious  of  all 
 deaths. 
 
 Pontius  Pilate,  who  condemned  our 
 blessed  Saviour  to  death,  was,  not  long 
 afterwards,  deposed  from  his  office,  ban- 
 ished from  his  country,  and  died  by  his 
 own  hands;  the  Divine  vengeance  over- 
 taking him  soon  after  his  crime. 
 
 The  high  priest  Caiaphas  was  deposed 
 by  Vitellius,  three  years  after  the  death 
 of  Christ.  Thus  this  wicked  man,  who 
 coudenmed  Christ  for  fear  of  disobliging 
 the  Komans,  was  ignominiously  turned  out 
 of  his  office  by  the  Roman  governor,  whom 
 he  had  sought  to  oblige. 
 
 Ananias,  the  high-priest,  persecuted  St. 
 Paul,  and  insolently  ordered  the  bystanders 
 to  smite  him  on  the  mouth.  On  which 
 the  apostle  said,  God  shall  smite  thee,  thou 
 whited  wall.  Whether  he  spake  this  pro- 
 phftically  or  not  may  be  difficult  to  say; 
 but  cer  tain  it  is,  that  some  time  after  he 
 
 was  slain,  together  with  his  brother,  by 
 his  own  son. 
 
 Ananus,  the  high  priest,  slew  St.  James 
 the  Less;  for  which  and  other  outrages 
 he  was  deposed  by  king  Agrippa  the 
 younger,  and  probably  perished  in  the  last 
 destruction  of  Jerusalem. 
 
 Nero,  in  the  year  64,  turned  his  rage 
 upon  the  Christians,  and  put  to  death 
 Peter  and  Paul,  with  many  others.  Four 
 years  after,  in  his  great  distress,  he  at- 
 tempted to  kill  himself,  but  being  as  mean- 
 spirited  and  dastardly  as  he  was  wicked 
 and  cruel,  he  had  not  the  resolution  to  do 
 that  piece  of  justice  to  the  world,  and  was 
 forced  to  beg  assistance. 
 
 Domitian  persecuted  the  Christians  also. 
 It  is  said  he  threw  St.  John  into  a  cauldron 
 of  boiling  oil,  and  afterwards  banished  him 
 into  the  isle  of  Patmos.  In  the  following 
 year  this  monster  of  wickedness  was  mur- 
 dered by  his  own  people. 
 
 The  Jewish  nation  persecuted,  rejected, 
 and  crucified  the  Lord  of  glory.  Within 
 a  few  years  after,  their  nation  was  de- 
 stroyed, and  the  Lord  made  their  plagues 
 wonderful. 
 
 Flaccus  was  governor  of  Egj'pt  near 
 the  time  of  our  Saviour's  death,  and  a 
 violent  persecutor  of  the  Jews.  The 
 wrath  of  God,  however,  ere  long  over- 
 took him,  and.  he  died  by  the  hands  of 
 violence. 
 
 Catullus  was  governor  of  Libya  about 
 the  year  73.  He  was  also  a  cruel  per- 
 secutor of  the  Jews,  and  he  died  miserably. 
 For  though  he  was  only  turned  out  of  his 
 office  by  the  Romans,  yet  he  fell  into  a 
 complicated  and  incurable  disease,  being 
 sorely  tormented  both  in  body  and  mind. 
 He  was  dreadfully  terrified,  and  con- 
 tinually crying  out  that  he  was  haunted 
 by  the  ghosts  of  those  whom  he  had 
 nmrdered  ;  and,  not  being  able  to  contain 
 himself,  he  leaped  out  of  his  bed  as  if  he 
 were  tortured  with  fire  and  put  to  the 
 rack.  His  distemper  increased  till  his 
 entrails  were  all  corrupted  and  came  out 
 of  his  body ;  and  thus  he  perished,  as  sig- 
 nal an  example  as  ever  was  known  of  the 
 Divine  justice  rendering  to  the  wicked 
 according  to  their  deeds. 
 
 Caius,  the  Roman  emperor,  was  a  great 
 persecutor  of  the  Jews  and  Christians,  and 
 a  blasphemer  of  the  God  of  heaven.  Soon 
 after  his  atrocities,  however,  he  was  mur- 
 dered by  one  of  his  own  people. 
 
 Severus,  emperor  of  Rome,  was  a  violent 
 and  cruel  persecutor  of  the  followers  of 
 Christ.  He  also,  and  all  his  family,  pe- 
 rished miserably,  about  the  year  200  after 
 our  Saviour. 
 
 About  the  same  time  Saturnius,  gover- 
 nor of  Africa,  persecuted  the  Christians, 
 and  put  several  of  them  to  death.  Soon 
 after,  he  went  blind. 
 
510 
 
 JUDGMENTS. 
 
 Ilellogabalus,  the  emperoi',  brought  a 
 new  god  to  Konie,  and  would  needs  compel 
 all  his  subjects  to  worship  him.  This  was 
 sure  to  have  ended  in  a  persecution  of  the 
 Christians.  But  soon  after  this  vile 
 monster  was  slain  by  his  own  soldiers, 
 about  the  year  222. 
 
 Claudius  Herminianus  was  a  cruel  per- 
 secutor of  the  Christians  in  the  second 
 century,  and  he  was  eaten  of  worms  while 
 he  lived. 
 
 Decius  persecuted  the  Church  about  the 
 year  250;  he  was  soon  after  killed  in 
 battle. 
 
 Gallus  succeeded,  and  continued  the  per- 
 secution. He,  too,  was  killed  the  year  fol- 
 lowing. 
 
 Valerian,  the  emperor,  had  many  good 
 qualities;  but  yet  he  was  an  implacable 
 enemy  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  His 
 Gospel.  Some  time  after  he  came  to  the 
 throne  he  was  taken  prisoner  by  Sapor, 
 king  of  Persia,  and  used  like  a  slave  and 
 a  dog ;  for  the  Persian  monarch,  from  time 
 to  time,  obliged  this  unhappy  emperor  to 
 bow  himself  down  and  offer  him  his  back, 
 on  which  to  set  his  foot  in  order  to  mount 
 his  chariot  or  his  horse.  He  died  in  this 
 miserable  state  of  captivity. 
 
 iEmilian,  governor  of  Egypt,  about  263, 
 was  a  virulent  persecutor  of  the  Church 
 of  Christ.  He  was  soon. after  strangled 
 by  order  of  the  emperor. 
 
 Aurelian,  the  emperor,  just  intending 
 to  begin  a  persecution  against  the  follow- 
 ers of  Christ,  was  killed  in  the  year  27-i. 
 
 Maximinus  was  a  persecutor  of  the 
 Church.  He  reigned  only  three  years,  and 
 then  fell  under  the  hands  of  violence. 
 
 About  the  year  300  was  the  greatest 
 possible  contest  between  Christ  and  the 
 Roman  emijerors,  which  should  have  the 
 dominion.  These  illustrious  wretches 
 seemed  determined  to  blot  out  the  Christian 
 race  and  name  from  under  heaven.  The 
 persecution  was  far  more  fierce  and  brutal 
 than  it  had  ever  been.  It  was  time,  there- 
 fore, for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  great 
 Head  of  the  Church,  to  arise  and  plead  His 
 own  cause ;  and  so,  indeed.  He  did.  The 
 examples  we  have  mentioned  are  dreadful ; 
 these  that  follow  are  not  less  astonishing, 
 and  they  are  all  delivered  upon  the  best 
 authorities. 
 
 Dioclesian  persecuted  the  Church  in  303. 
 After  this  nothing  ever  prospered  with  him. 
 He  underwent  many  troubles;  his  senses 
 became  impaired;  and  he  quitted  the  em- 
 pire. 
 
 Severus,  another  persecuting  emperor, 
 was  overthrown  and  put  to  death  in  the 
 ^year  307. 
 
 About  the  same  time  Urbanus,  governor 
 of  Palestine,  who  had  signalised  himself 
 by  tormenting  and  destroying  the  disciples 
 of  Jesus,  met  with  his   due  reward;    for 
 
 almost  immediately  after  the  cruelties  com- 
 mitted, the  Divine  vengeance  overtook  him. 
 He  was  unexpectedly  degraded  and  de- 
 prived of  all  his  honours;  and,  dejected, 
 disjiirited,  and  meanly  begging  for  mercy, 
 was  put  to  death  by  the  same  hand  that 
 raised  him. 
 
 Firmilianus,  another  persecuting  gover- 
 nor, met  with  the  same  fate. 
 
 Maximianus  Herculus,  another  of  the 
 wretched  persecuting  emperors,  was  com- 
 pelled to  hang  himself  in  the  year  310. 
 
 Maximinus  Galerius,  of  all  the  tyrants 
 of  his  time  the  most  cruel,  was  seized  with 
 a  grievous  and  horrible  disease,  and  tor- 
 mented with  worms  and  ulcers  to  such  a 
 degree,  that  they  who  were  ordered  to  at- 
 tend him  could  not  bear  the  stench.  Worms 
 proceeded  from  his  body  in  a  most  fearful 
 manner ;  and  several  of  his  physicians  were 
 put  to  death  because  they  could  not  en- 
 dure the  smell,  and  others  because  they 
 could  not  cure  him.  This  happened  in  the 
 year  of  our  Lord  311. 
 
 Maxentius,  another  of  the  inhuman  mon- 
 sters, was  overthrown  in  battle  by  Constan- 
 tine;  and  in  his  flight  he  fell  into  the 
 Tiber,  and  was  drowned  in  the  year  312. 
 
 Maximinus  put  out  the  eyes  of  many 
 thousands  of  Christians.  Soon  after  the 
 commission  of  his  cruelties,  a  disease  arose 
 among  his  own  people  which  greatly  af- 
 fected their  eyes,  and  took  away  their  sight. 
 He  himself  died  miserably,  and  upon  the 
 rack,  his  eyes  starting  out  of  his  head 
 through  the  violence  of  his  distemper,  in 
 the  year  313.  All  his  family  likewise 
 were  destroyed,  his  wife  and  children  put 
 to  death,  together  with  most  of  his  friends 
 and  dependents,  who  had  been  the  instru- 
 ments of  his  cruelty. 
 
 A  Roman  officer,  to  oblige  this  Maxi- 
 minus, greatly  oppressed  the  church  at 
 Damascus;  not  long  after,  he  destroyed 
 himself. 
 
 Lacinius,  the  last  of  these  persecuting 
 emperors  before  Constantine,  was  con- 
 quered and  put  to  death  in  the  year  323. 
 He  was  equally  an  enemy  to  religion,  li- 
 berty, and  learning. 
 
 Cyril,  the  deacon,  was  murdered  by  some 
 Pagans,  at  Heliopolis,  for  his  opposition  to 
 their  images.  They  ripped  open  his  belly, 
 and  ate  his  liver;  the  Divine  vengeance, 
 however,  pursued  all  those  who  had  been 
 guilty  of  this  crime;  their  teeth  came  out, 
 their  tongues  rotted,  and  they  lost  their 
 sight. 
 
 Valens  was  made  emperor  in  364;  and 
 though  a  Christian  himself,  he  is  said  to 
 have  caused  fourscore  presbyters  who 
 differed  from  him  in  opinion  to  be  put  to 
 sea,  and  burnt  alive  in  the  ship.  After- 
 wards, in  a  battle  with  the  Goths,  he  was 
 defeated  and  wounded,  and  fled  to  a  cot- 
 tage, where  he  was  burnt  alive,  as  must 
 
JUSTICE. 
 
 511 
 
 historians  relate;  all  agree  that  he  pe- 
 rished. 
 
 The  last  Pagan  prince,  who  was  a  for- 
 midable enemy  to  Christianity,  was  Rada- 
 gaisus,  a  king  of  the  Goths.  He  invaded 
 the  Roman  empire  with  an  army  of 
 400,000  men,  about  the  year  405,  and 
 vowed  to  sacrifice  all  the  Romans  to  his 
 gods.  The  Romans,  however,  fought  him 
 and  obtained  a  complete  victory,  taking 
 him  and  his  sons  prisoners,  whom  they  put 
 to  death. 
 
 Huneric,  the  Vandal,  though  a  Christian, 
 was  a  most  cruel  persecutor  of  those  who 
 differed  from  him  in  opinion,  about  the 
 year  of  our  Lord  484.  He  spared  not 
 even  those  of  his  own  persuasion,  neither 
 his  friends  nor  his  kindred.  He  reigned, 
 however,  not  quite  eight  years,  and  died 
 with  all  the  marks  of  Divine  indignation 
 ujDon  it. 
 
 Julian  the  Apostate  greatly  oppressed 
 the  Christians;  and  he  perished  soon  after, 
 in  his  rash  expedition  against  the  Per- 
 sians. 
 
 Several  of  those  who  were  employed  or 
 permitted  by  Julian  to  persecute  the 
 Christians,  are  said  to  have  perished  miser- 
 ably and  remarkably.  I  will  here  relate 
 the  fate  of  a  few  of  those  unhappy  wretches 
 in  the  words  of  Tillemont,  who  faithfully 
 collected  the  account  from  the  ancients. 
 We  have  observed,  says  that  learned  man, 
 that  Count  Julian,  with  Felix,  superinten- 
 dent of  the  finances,  and  Elpidius,  treasurer 
 to  the  emperor,  apostates  all  three,  had 
 received  orders  to  go  and  seize  the  effects 
 of  the  church  at  Autioch,  and  carry  them 
 to  the  treasury.  They  did  it  on  the  day 
 of  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Theodoret,  and 
 drew  up  an  account  of  what  they  had 
 seized.  But  Count  Julian  was  not  content 
 with  taking  away  the  sacred  vessels  of  the 
 church,  and  prof.ning  them  by  his  impure 
 hands;  carrying  to  greater  lengths  the 
 outrage  he  was  doing  to  Jesus  Christ,  he 
 overturned  and  flung  them  down  on  the 
 ground,  and  sat  upon  them  in  the  most  cri- 
 minal manner;  adding  to  this  all  the 
 banters  and  blasphemies  that  he  could  de- 
 vise against  Christ,  and  against  tlie  Chris- 
 tians, who,  he  said,  were  abandoned  of  God. 
 
 Felix,  the  superintendent,  signalised 
 himself  also  by  another  impiety;  for,  as 
 he  was  viewing  the  rich  and  magnificent 
 vessels  which  the  emperors  Constantine 
 and  Constantius  had  given  to  the  Church, 
 "  Behold,"  said  he,  "  with  what  plate  the 
 Son  of  Mary  is  served !"  It  is  said,  too, 
 that  Count  Julian  and  he  made  it  the  sub- 
 ject of  banter  that  God  should  let  them 
 thus  profane  His  temple  without  inter- 
 posing by  visible  miracles. 
 
 But  these  impieties  remained  not  long 
 xmpunished,  and  Julian  had  no  sooner  pro- 
 faned the  sacred  utensils,  than  he  felt  the 
 
 effects  of  Divine  vengeance.  He  fell  into 
 a  grievous  and  unknown  disease ;  and  his 
 inward  parts  being  corrupted  he  cast  out 
 his  liver  and  his  excrements,  not  from  the 
 ordinary  passages,  but  from  his  miserable 
 mouth,  which  had  uttered  so  many  blas- 
 pliemies.  His  secret  parts,  and  all  the 
 fiesh  round  about  them,  corrupted  also,  and 
 bred  worms ;  and  to  show  that  it  was  a 
 Divine  punishment,  all  the  art  of  phy- 
 sicians could  give  him  no  relief.  In  this 
 condition  he  continued  for  forty  days, 
 without  speech  or  sense,  preyed  on  by 
 worms.  At  length  he  came  to  himself 
 again.  The  imposthumes,  however,  all 
 over  bis  body,  and  the  worms  which  gnawed 
 him  continually,  reduced  him  to  the  ut- 
 most extremity.  He  threw  them  up  with- 
 out ceasing,  the  last  three  days  of  his  life, 
 with  a  stench  which  he  himself  could  not 
 hear. 
 
 The  disease  with  which  God  visited 
 Felix  was  not  so  long.  He  burst  suddenly 
 in  the  middle  of  his  body,  and  died  of  au 
 effusion  of  blood  in  the  course  of  one  day. 
 
 Elpidius  was  stripped  of  his  effects  in 
 366,  and  shut  up  in  pi-ison,  where,  after 
 having  continued  for  some  time,  he  died 
 without  reputation  and  honour,  cursed  of 
 all  the  world,  and  surnamed  the  Apostate. 
 
 To  these  instances  many  more  might  be 
 added  nearer  our  own  times,  did  our  room 
 permit.  These,  however,  are  sufficient  to 
 show  us  what  a  fearful  thing  it  is  to  fill 
 into  the  hands  of  the  living  God,  and  how 
 fruitless  and  awful  it  is  to  oppose  His  de- 
 signs, and  to  attempt  to  stop  the  process 
 of  His  Gospel.  "  Why  do  the  heathen 
 rage,  and  the  people  imagine  a  vain  thing  ? 
 He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  shall  laugh, 
 the  Lord  shall  have  them  in  derision.  Thou 
 shalt  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron ;  Thou 
 shalt  dash  them  in  pieces  as  a  potter's 
 vessel.  Be  wise  now,  therefore,  O  ye 
 kings;  be  instructed,  ye  judges  of  the 
 earth.  Serve  the  Lord  with  fear,  and  re- 
 joice with  trembling"  (Ps.  ii).  C.  Buck. 
 JUSTICE— Civil. 
 
 That  which  the  air  is  in  the  elementary 
 world,  the  sun  in  the  celestial,  the  soul  in 
 the  iutelligible,  justice  is  the  same  in  the 
 civil.  It  is  the  air  which  all  afflicted 
 desire  to  breathe;  the  sun  which  disjielleth 
 all  clouds;  the  soul  which  giveth  life  to 
 all  things.  The  unhappiness  is,  it  is  more 
 found  on  the  paper  of  writers  than  in  the 
 manners  of  the  living.  To  be  just  is  to  be 
 all  that  which  an  honest  man  may  be, 
 since  justice  is  to  give  every  one  what  ap- 
 pertaineth  to  him.  N,  Caussin, 
 
 JUSTICE— Definition  of. 
 
 Justice  consists  in  an  exact  and  scrupu- 
 lous regard  to  the  rights  of  others,  with  a 
 deliberate  purpose  to  preserve  them  on  all 
 occasions  sacred  and  inviolate.        C.  Buck. 
 
512 
 
 JUSTICE. 
 
 JUSTICE— Definition  of. 
 
 Distributive  justice  belongs  to  magis- 
 trates or  rulers,  and  consists  in  distributing 
 to  every  man  that  right  or  equity  which 
 the  laws  and  the  principles  of  equity  re- 
 quire. Commutative  justice  consists  in  fair 
 dealing  in  trade  and  mutual  intercourse 
 between  man  and  man.  Maunder. 
 
 JUSTICE — Disinterested. 
 
 Aristides  being  judge  between  two  pri- 
 vate persons,  one  of  them  declared  that  his 
 adversary  had  greatly  injured  Aristides. 
 "  Relate  rather,  good  friend,"  said  he,  in- 
 terrupting him,  "  what  wrong  he  hath  done 
 thee,  for  it  is  t\\y  cause,  not  mine,  that  I 
 now  sit  j  udge  of." 
 
 Being  desired  by  Simonides,  a  poet  of 
 Chios,  who  had  a  cause  to  try  before  him, 
 to  stretch  a  point  in  his  favour,  he  replied, 
 "  As  you  would  not  be  a  good  poet  if  your 
 lines  ran  contrary  to  the  just  measures  and 
 rules  of  your  art ;  so  neither  should  I  be  a 
 good  judge,  or  an  honest  man,  if  I  decided 
 aught  in  opposition  to  law  and  justice." 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 JUSTICE— Impartial. 
 
 A  striking  instance  of  the  stern  and  im- 
 partial administration  of  justice  is  afforded 
 in  the  history  of  one  of  the  kings  of  Acal- 
 huacan,  a  province  which  composed  a  part 
 of  the  Mexican  empire.  There  was  a  law 
 which  forbad,  on  pain  of  death,  the  speaking 
 of  indecent  words  in  the  royal  palace.  One 
 of  the  sons  of  this  king,  for  whom  he  had 
 felt  a  more  particular  attachment  than  for 
 any  of  the  rest,  on  account  of  his  disposi- 
 tion and  his  virtues,  violated  this  law.  Tbe 
 words  made  use  of  by  the  young  prince 
 were  rather  the  eifect  of  youthful  indis- 
 cretion than  of  any  bad  intention.  The 
 king  was  informed  of  it,  and  understanding 
 that  the  word  had  been  spoken  by  the 
 priuce  in  the  presence  of  his  tutors,  he  sent 
 to  examine  them.  They,  being  afraid  of 
 experiencing  some  punishment  if  they  con- 
 cealed the  truth,  confessed  it  openly,  but 
 at  the  same  time  endeavoured  to  exculpate 
 the  prince  by  saying  that  he  did  not  know 
 the  person  to  whom  he  sj^oke  nor  that  the 
 language  was  improper.  Notwithstanding 
 all  this,  he  ordered  the  young  prince  to  be 
 arrested  immediately,  and  the  very  same 
 day  pronounced  sentence  of  death  upon 
 him.  The  whole  court  were  astonished  at 
 the  rigour  of  the  king,  and  interfered  with 
 their  prayers  and  tears  in  behalf  of  the 
 prince;  hut  no  remonstrances  could  move 
 the  intlexible  mind  of  the  king.  "  My  son," 
 said  he,  "  has  viohited  the  law.  If  I  pardon 
 him,  it  will  be  said  the  laws  are  not  binding 
 on  every  one.  I  will  let  my  subjects  know 
 that  no  one  will  be  pardoned  a  transgression, 
 as  I  do  not  even  pardon  the  son  whom  I 
 dearly  love."     The  punishment  was  accord- 
 
 ingly executed.  The  king  shut  himseu 
 up  for  forty  days  in  a  hall,  without  letting 
 himself  be  seen  by  any  one.  He  vented 
 his  grief  in  secret ;  and  to  conceal  from  his 
 sight  everything  that  might  recall  his 
 sorrow,  he  caused  the  door  of  his  son's 
 apartment  to  be  closed  up  by  a  wall.  He 
 showed  his  subjects  that,  although  he  was 
 incapable  of  repi-essing  the  feelings  of  a 
 father,  and  sealing  up  the  fountains  of  his 
 grief,  yet  he  would  never  permit  them  to 
 overcome  his  zeal  for  the  laws,  and  the 
 most  rigid  impartiality  in  their  execution. 
 Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 JUSTICE— Rules  of. 
 
 It  is  justice  that  we  honour,  reverence, 
 and  respect  those  who  are  superiors  in  any 
 kind  (Kvh.  vi,  1,  3 ;  1  Peter  ii,  17).  That 
 we  show  particular  kindness  to  near  re- 
 lations (Prov.  xviii,  17).  That  we  love 
 those  who  love  us,  and  show  gratitude  to 
 those  who  have  done  us  good  (Gal.  iv,  15). 
 That  we  pay  the  full  due  to  those  whom 
 we  bargain  or  deal  with  (Rom.  xiii ;  Deut. 
 xxiv,  14).  That  we  help  our  fellow-crea- 
 tures in  cases  of  great  necessity  (Exo.  xxiii, 
 4).  That  we  render  reparation  to  those 
 whom  we  have  wilfully  injured. 
 
 Dr.  Watts. 
 
 JUSTICE— Sword  of. 
 
 When  the  Son  of  God  was  made  of  a 
 woman,  and  made  under  the  law,  there  was 
 heard  the  most  awful  voice  that  ever  was 
 heard  in  the  univei-se  yet :  "  Awake,  O 
 sword,  against  the  Man  that  is  My  fellow, 
 and  smite  the  shepherd" — smite  Him! 
 When  there  was  a  Man  in  the  world  that 
 was  Jehovah's  Fellow  there  was  some  one 
 who  could  magnify  the  law,  in  smiting 
 whom  justice  could  obtain  its  demands. 
 The  sword  of  justice  smote  Him,  struck 
 Him,  cut  Him.  The  sword  of  justice  had 
 a  commission  to  smite  the  Man  that  was 
 Jehovah's  Fellow;  it  smote  Him  in  Beth- 
 lehem ;  it  smote  Him  all  along  the  high- 
 way of  His  life,  even  to  Calvary.  On 
 Calvary  the  strokes  of  the  sword  fell  heavy ; 
 the  glances  of  that  sword  then  darkened 
 the  sun;  the  strokes  of  the  sword  shook 
 earth,  shook  hell;  it  kept  smiting  and 
 smiting  the  Man  that  was  God's  Fellow, 
 till  at  last  He  cried,  "  It  is  finished."  Then 
 the  sword  fell  down  at  the  foot  of  the 
 cross,  hushed,  lulled,  pacified;  and  it  lay 
 there  till  the  third  hallowed  morning,  when 
 it  was  found  changed  into  a  sceptre  of 
 mercy ;  and  that  sceptre  of  mercy  has  been 
 waving  among  mankind  ever  since. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 JUSTICE— True. 
 
 All  are  not  just  because  they  do  no  wrong ; 
 
 But  he,  who  will  not  wrong  me  when  he 
 
 may, 
 He  is  the  truly  just.     I  praise  not  those 
 
JUSTICE— JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 513 
 
 tVTio  in  their  petty  dealings  pilfer  not. 
 But  him  whose  conscience  spurns  at  secret 
 
 fraud. 
 When  he  might  plunder  and  defy  surprise. 
 His  be  the  praise  who,  looking  dowu  with 
 
 scorn 
 On  the  false  judgment  of  the  partial  herd. 
 Consults  his  own  clear  heart,  and  boldly 
 
 dares 
 To  he,  not  to  be  thougM,  an  honest  man. 
 
 Cumierland. 
 
 JUSTICE— Turkish. 
 
 A  poor  man  claimed  a  house  which  a  rich 
 man  had  seized.  The  fmniier  produced  his 
 deeds  and  instruments  to  prove  his  right, 
 but  the  latter  had  provided  a  number  of 
 witnesses :  and  to  support  their  evidence 
 the  more  effectually,  he  presented  the  cadi 
 with  a  bag  containing  five  hundred  ducats, 
 which  the  cadi  received.  When  it  came  to 
 a  hearing,  the  poor  man  told  his  story,  pro- 
 duced his  writings,  but  wanted  witnesses, 
 that  most  essential  and  only  valid  proof 
 of  the  merits  of  his  cause.  The  other,  pro- 
 vided with  witnesses,  laid  his  whole  stress 
 on  them  and  on  his  adversary's  defective 
 law,  who  could  produce  none;  he,  there- 
 fore, urged  the  cadi  to  give  sentence  in  his 
 favour.  After  the  most  pressing  solici- 
 tations, the  judge  calmly  drew  from  be- 
 neath his  sofa  the  bag  of  five  hundred 
 ducats,  which  the  rich  man  had  given  him 
 as  a  bribe,  saying  to  him  very  gravely, 
 "  You  have  been  much  mistaken  in  the 
 suit;  for  if  the  poor  man  could  produce  no 
 witnesses  in  confirmation  of  his  right,  I 
 myself  can  furnish  him  with  at  least  five 
 hundred."  He  threw  him  the  bag  with 
 re])r.jach  and  indignation,  and  deci-eed  the 
 house  to  the  poor  plaintifi". 
 
 Sir  George  Larpent. 
 
 JUSTICE  AND  EQUITY. 
 
 Justice  is  a  written  or  prescribed  law, 
 to  which  one  is  bound  to  conform  and 
 make  it  the  rule  of  one's  decisions;  equity 
 is  a  law  in  our  hearts ;  it  conforms  to  no 
 rule  but  to  circumstances,  and  decides  by 
 the  consciousness  of  right  and  wrong. 
 Justice  is  that  which  public  law  requires ; 
 equity  that  which  private  law,  or  the  law  of 
 every  man's  conscience,  requires.  When  a 
 father  disinhei'its  his  son,  he  does  not  violate 
 justice,  although  he  does  not  act  con- 
 sistently with  equity;  the  disposal  of  his 
 property  is  a  right  which  is  guaranteed  to 
 him  by  the  established  laws  of  civil  society ; 
 but  the  claims  which  a  child  has  by  nature 
 over  the  property  of  his  parent,  become 
 the  claims  of  equity  which  the  latter  is  not 
 at  liberty  to  set  at  nought  without  the 
 most  substantial  reasons.  On  the  other 
 hand,  when  Cyrus  adjudged  the  coat  to 
 each  boy  as  it  fitted  him,  without  regard 
 to  the  will  of  the  younger  from  whom  the 
 
 large  coat  had  been  taken,  it  is  evident 
 that  he  committed  an  act  of  injustice,  witli- 
 out  performing  an  act  of  equity;  since  all 
 violence  is  positively  unjust  and  what  is 
 positively  unjust,  can  never  be  equitable; 
 whence  it  is  clear  that  justice,  which 
 respects  the  absolute  and  inalienable  rights 
 of  mankind,  can  at  no  tiiiie  be  superseded 
 by  what  is  supposed  to  be  equity;  although 
 equity  may  be  conveniently  made  to  inter- 
 pose where  the  laws  of  justice  are  either 
 too  severe  or  altogether  silent.      G.  Crahb. 
 
 JUSTICE  IN  SMALL  THINGS. 
 
 Nouschirvan,  the  Persian  king,  having 
 been  hunting,  and  desirous  of  eating  some 
 of  the  venison  in  the  field,  several  of  hi.- 
 attendants  went  to  a  neighbouring  village, 
 and  took  away  a  quantity  of  salt  to  season 
 it.  The  king  suspecting  how  they  had 
 acted,  ordei-ed  that  they  should  immedi- 
 ately go  and  pay  for  it ;  then  turning  to 
 his  attendants,  he  said,  "  Tiiis  is  a  small 
 matter  in  itself,  but  a  great  one  as  it  re- 
 gards me :  for  a  king  ought  ever  to  be 
 just,  because  he  is  an  example  to  his  sub- 
 jects; and  if  he  swerves  in  trifles,  they  will 
 become  dissolute.  If  I  cannot  make  all 
 ray  people  just  in  the  smallest  things,  I 
 can,  at  least,  show  them  it  is  possible  to 
 be  so."  L.  M.  Stretch- 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Concomitants  of. 
 
 When  a  person  is  justified  by  human 
 laws,  he  goes  away  from  the  bar  deriving 
 no  other  benefit  from  his  acquittal  than 
 mere  release  from  punishment.  He  does 
 not  depart  laden  by  his  judge  with 
 favoured  great  privileges.  But  the  sinner 
 who  has  been  justified  through  the  right- 
 eousness of  Christ  gains  something  anore 
 than  simple  deliverance  from  the  present 
 and  future  wrath  of  God ;  he  gains  every 
 spiritual  mercy  which  he  needs  for  this 
 present  life,  and  everlasting  happiness  in 
 the  life  to  come.  We  may  illu^trate  this 
 double  benefit  of  justification  thus : — It  is 
 as  if  one  should  not  only  pay  the  debts  of 
 a  person  who  owed  ten  thousand  talents, 
 and  who,  having  nothing  to  pay,  was  about 
 to  be  sold,  with  all  that  he  had,  to  make 
 the  payment,  but  should  at  the  same  time 
 give  him  enough  to  set  him  above  want 
 for  ever  after.  Lewis. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Definitions  of. 
 
 Justification  may  be  defined,  in  its  theo- 
 logical sense,  as  the  non-imputation  of  sin, 
 and  the  imputation  of  righteousness. 
 
 Br.  Doran. 
 
 Justification,  or  "  the  remission  of  sins," 
 is  that  gratuitous  act  of  Divine  mercy  by 
 which  God  pardons  the  sinner  who  believes 
 in  Jesus  all  his  past  sins,  and  imputes  his 
 faith  to  him  for  righteousness.    J.  Fletcher. 
 
JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Definitions  of. 
 
 The  general  nature  of  justification  is  a 
 reward.  It  is  a  reward  merited  by  Christ 
 as  Priest  and  Mediator,  promised  by  God- 
 Redeemer  as  a  Lawgiver,  and  rendered  by 
 Him  as  Judge  upon  a  duty  performed 
 (believing)  by  the  sinner  to  be  justified. 
 
 Lawson. 
 
 Justification  is  the  merciful  and  gracious 
 act  of  God  whereby  He  fully  absolves  from 
 all  guilt  the  truly  penitent  and  believing 
 soul,  through  and  for  the  sake  of  Christ 
 apprehended  by  a  true  faith ;  or  gra- 
 tuitously remits  sins  upon  the  account  of 
 faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  graciously  im- 
 putes that  faith  for  righteousness. 
 
 LimhorcJi. 
 JUSTIFICATION— Degrees  in. 
 
 1.  That  which  passes  upon  all  infants 
 universally,  and  is  thus  described  by  St. 
 Paul :  "As  by  the  ofi'ence  of  one,  judgment 
 came  upon  all  men  to  condemnation ;  even 
 so  by  the  righteousness  of  one  the  free 
 gift  came  upon  all  men,"  unto  "  present 
 justification  from  original  sin,  and  future 
 justification  of  life,"  upon  their  repenting, 
 and  "  believing  in  the  light,"  during  the 
 day  of  their  visitation.  In  consequence  of 
 this  degree  of  justification,  we  may,  with- 
 out impeaching  the  veracity  of  God,  say 
 to  every  creature,  "  God  so  loved  the  world, 
 that  He  gave  His  only  begotten  Son"  to 
 "reconcile  them  unto  Himself,  not  im- 
 puting to  them  "  original  sin  unto  eternal 
 death,  and  blotting  out  their  personal  trans- 
 gressions, in  the  moment  they  "believe 
 with  the  heart  unto  righteousness." 
 
 2.  The  justification  consequent  upon 
 such  believing  is  thus  described  by  St. 
 Paul:  "This  blessing  of  'faith  imputed 
 for  righteousness '  shall  be  ours,  '  if  we 
 believe  on  Him  that  was  raised  from  the 
 dead  for  our  justification ;'  we  have  believed 
 in  Jesus  Christ,  that  we  might  be  'justified 
 by  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  not  by  the 
 works  of  the  law.'  Therefore,  being  jus- 
 tified by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God, 
 through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  &c. 
 
 3.  The  justification  consequent  upon 
 bringing  forth  the  fruit  of  a  lively  faith  in 
 the  truths  that  belong  to  our  dispensation. 
 This  justification  is  thus  mentioned  by  St. 
 James,  "  llahab,  the  harlot,  was  justified 
 by  works;"  "Abraham,  our  father,  was 
 justified  by  works,"  &c. 
 
 4.  Final  justification  is  thus  assci-ted  by 
 our  Lord  and  St.  Paul:  "In  the  day  o"f 
 judgment,  'by  thy  words  shalt  thou  be 
 justified,  and  by  thy  words  shalt  thou  be 
 condemned;'  'Circumcision  and  uncir- 
 cumcision  avail  nothing,  but  the  keeping 
 of  the  commandments;'  'for  the  doers  of 
 the  law  shall  be  justified.' "       J.  Fletcher. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Importance  of.  • 
 
 Justification  is  the  very  hinge  and  pillar 
 of  Christianity ;  and  an  error  about  justi- 
 fication is  dangerous,  like  a  crack  in  the 
 foundation,  or  an,  error  in  the  first  con- 
 coction. Justification  by  Christ  is  a 
 spring  of  the  water  of  life ;  and  to  have 
 the  poison  of  corrupt  doctrine  cast  into 
 this  spring  is  damnable.  T.  TVatson. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Method  of. 
 
 To  have  a  com]ilete  view  of  this  method, 
 we  must  consider  the  originating,  the 
 meritorious,  and  the  instrumental  cause  of 
 justification. 
 
 1.  The  originating  cause  is  the  grace, 
 the  free,  sovereign,  undeserved,  and  sjion- 
 taneous  love  of  God  towards  fallen  man 
 (Titus  iii,  4,  5;  ii,  11;  Rom.  iii,  24). 
 
 2.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  sole 
 meritorious  cause.  All  He  did,  and  all  He 
 sufi'ered,  in  His  mediatorial  chai-acter,  may 
 be  said  to  have  contributed  to  this  great 
 purpose. 
 
 3.  The  instrumental  cause  of  justification. 
 The  merit  of  the  blood  of  Jesus  does  not 
 operate  necessarilg  so  as  to  produce  our 
 pardon  as  an  immediate  and  unavoidable 
 effect,  but  through  the  instrumentality  of 
 faith. 
 
 Hence — 
 
 1.  We  are  not  justified,  in  whole  or  in 
 part,  by  the  merit  of  our  own  tvorks, 
 whether  past,  present,  or  future. 
 
 2.  Our  repentance  is  neither  the  meri- 
 torious cause,  nor  the  immediate  instru- 
 ment of  justification. 
 
 3.  The  Holt  Spirit's  work  of  regenerU' 
 tion  and  sanctijlcation  is  not  the  previous 
 condition  of  our  free  justification  or  the 
 pre-requisite  qualification  of  it. 
 
 4.  Our  justification  is  not  by  the  merit 
 of  faith  itself;  but  only  by  faith,  as  that 
 which  embraces  and  appropriates  the 
 merit  of  Christ.  Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Nature  of. 
 
 The  plain  scriptural  notion  of  justification 
 is  pardon,  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  It  is 
 that  act  of  God  the  Father  whereby,  for 
 the  sake  of  the  propitiation  made  by  the 
 blood  of  His  Son,  He  "showcth  forth  His 
 righteousness  (or  mercy)  by  the  remission 
 of  the  sins  that  are  past."  This  is  the 
 easy,  natural  account  of  it  given  by  St. 
 Paul  throughout  this  whole  epistle.  So  he 
 explains  it  to  himself,  more  particularly  in 
 this  and  in  the  following  chapter.  Thus  in 
 the  next  verses  but  one  to  the  text,  "Bless- 
 ed are  they,"  saith  he,  "  whose  iniquities 
 are  forgiven,  and  whose  sins  are  covered : 
 blessed  is  the  man  to  whom  the  Lord  will 
 not  impute  sin."  To  him  that  is  justified 
 or  forgiven,  God  will  not  impute  sin  to  his 
 condemnation.     He  will  not  condemn  him 
 
JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 515 
 
 on  tliat  acconnt,  either  In  this  world  or  in 
 that  v/liich  is  to  come.  His  sins,  all  his 
 past  sins,  in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  are 
 covered,  are  blotted  out ;  shall  not  he  re- 
 membered or  mentioned  against  him  any 
 more  than  if  they  had  not  been.  God  will 
 not  inflict  on  that  sinner  what  he  deserved 
 to  suffer,  because  the  Son  of  His  love  hath 
 suffered  for  him.  And  from  the  time  we 
 are  accepted  through  the  Beloved,  reconciled 
 to  God  thmu(jh  His  Hood,  He  loves,  and 
 blesses,  and  watches  over  us  for  good,  even 
 as  if  we  had  never  sinned. 
 
 Indeed,  the  apostle  in  one  place  seems 
 to  extend  the  meaning  of  the  word  much 
 farther ;  where  he  says,  "  Not  the  hearers 
 of  the  law,  but  the  doers  of  the  law,  shall 
 be  justiffed."  Here  he  appears  to  refer 
 our  justification  to  the  sentence  of  the 
 great  day.  And  so  our  Lord  Himself  un- 
 questionably doth,  when  He  says,  "  By  thy 
 words  thou  shalt  be  justified  :"  proving 
 thereby  that  for  "  every  idle  word  men 
 shall  speak,  they  shall  give  an  account  in 
 the  day  of  judgment."  But  perhaps  we 
 can  hardly  produce  another  instance  of  St. 
 Paul's  using  the  word  in  that  distant  sense. 
 In  the  general  tenor  of  his  writings  it  is 
 evident  he  doth  not.  And  least  of  all  in 
 the  text  before  us,  which  undeniably  speaks 
 not  of  those  who  have  aXre&Ay  finished  their 
 course,  but  of  those  who  are  now  just  set- 
 ting out,  just  beginning  to  run  the  race 
 which  is  set  before  them.  J.  Weslei/. 
 
 The  primary  signification  of  the  Greek 
 word  which  we  translate  "to  justify,"  is 
 "to  acknowledge  and  declare  any  one  to 
 be  what  he  ought  to  be,  and  to  treat  him 
 as  such."  It  is  a  term  chiefly  used  with  a 
 reference  to  judicial  proceedings.  When 
 a  person  has  been  accused  of  any  off"ence, 
 and  upon  legal  inquiry  is  found  innocent, 
 he  is  justified  by  the  sentence  of  acquittal ; 
 he  is  delivered  from  the  penalties  to  which 
 he  stood  exposed,  and  his  character  is 
 proved  to  be  what  it  ought  to  be.  This  is 
 one  idea  of  justification,  but  it  cannot  be 
 that  which  is  referred  to  in  the  Gospel. 
 We  are  guilty  beings,  and  were  God  to 
 enter  into  judgment  with  us,  no  man 
 living  could  be  justified  on  account  of  his 
 own  innocence. 
 
 But  there  is  another  sense  in  which  the 
 term  may  be  used.  When  a  person  has 
 been  brought  to  trial  and  found  guilty,  if 
 he  is  able  to  make  a  sufiicient  satisfaction 
 for  his  offence,  either  through  his  own 
 ability  or  that  of  his  friends,  and  the  law 
 accepts  such  an  indemnification,  the  crimi- 
 nal would  dejiart  from  the  trial  justified. 
 The  accepted  satisfaction  would  not,  indeed, 
 render  him  an  innocent  man,  but  he  would 
 be  so  regarded  by  the  law,  and,  though 
 guilty,   he   would   he   no   more   liable   to 
 
 prosecution  and  punishment  for  that  off'cnce 
 than  a  person  who  had  never  connnitted  it. 
 Now  this  is  the  way  in  which  we  are 
 justified  in  the  sight  of  God.  We  are 
 found  guilty  by  this  just  Judge,  and  at 
 any  moment  His  justice  may  inflict  ujiou 
 us  the  deserved  sentence  of  eternal  death. 
 We  have  no  ability  of  our  own  to  make 
 satisfaction,  but  an  Almighty  Friend  and 
 Saviour  has  died  to  make  an  atonement 
 for  our  sins,  and  He  permits  us  to  offer 
 the  merits  of  His  most  precious  blood- 
 shedding  to  God  for  the  remission  of  those 
 sins.  God  accepts  this  satisfaction  from 
 all  who  have  a  right  to  offer  it,  and,  in 
 consideration  of  it,  releases  them  from 
 the  penalty  of  eternal  death,  to  which 
 they  stood  exposed.  A  person  pleading 
 this  satisfaction  is  not,  indeed,  rendered 
 innocent  through  what  his  Saviour  has 
 done  for  him,  but  he  is  treated  as  such; 
 he  is  no  longer  liable  to  punishment ;  and 
 we  may  say  that  an  angel  in  heaven  is  in 
 as  much  danger  of  eternal  torment  as  is  a 
 person  who  is  found  in  Christ,  having  the 
 infinite  merits  of  his  Saviour  to  plead  for 
 his  own  justification.  Leiuis. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Eesults  of. 
 
 1.  The  restoration  of  amitij  and  inter- 
 course between  the  pardoned  sinner  and 
 the  pardoning  God.  For,  "  being  justified 
 by  faith,  we  have  peace  ivith  God ;"  and, 
 consequently,  unforbidden  access  to  Hiin, 
 
 2.  Adoption  of  the  persons  justified  into 
 the  family  of  God,  and  their  consequent 
 right  to  eternal  life  of  body  and  soul. 
 
 3.  With  these  results  of  justification  is 
 inseparably  connected  another,  of  the  ut- 
 most value  and  importance ;  namely,  the 
 habitual  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
 
 Of  this  indwelling  the  immediate  effects 
 are — (1)  TranquiUHg  of  conscience  ;  (2) 
 Power  over  sinj  (3)  A  joyous  hope  of 
 heaven.  Dr.  JBuiiiing. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— Subjects  of. 
 
 1.  Man.  2.  Man  a  sinner.  3.  Man  a 
 sinner  believing.  4.  Believing  in  Christ, 
 as  Propitiator  and  Intercessor ;  Propitiator 
 by  His  blood  shed,  and  offered  unto  God ; 
 Intercessor  by  His  blood  shed,  offered,  and 
 accepted,  as  pleaded.  Lawson. 
 
 God  justifies  the  ungodly,  and  him  that 
 worketh  not,  but  believeth  in  Jesus.  1. 
 By  the  "  ungodly  "  the  apostle  does  not 
 mean  the  wicked  that  does  not  forsake  his 
 way,  hut  the  man  who,  before  he  believed 
 to  justification,  was  ungodly,  and  still 
 remains  ungodly  in  the  eye  of  the  law  of 
 works,  needing  daily  foi'giveness  by  grace, 
 even  after  he  is  made  godly  in  a  Gospel 
 sense.  2.  By  "  him  that  worketh  not " 
 St.  Paul  does  nnt  mean  a  lazy,  indolent 
 wretch,  who,  without  any  reluctance,  fol- 
 
516 
 
 JUSTIFICATIOIT— JUSTiriCATION  AND  SAKCTIFICATIOIT. 
 
 lows  the  stream  of  his  corrupt  nature; 
 but  a  penitent  who,  whatever  works  he 
 does,  has  no  dependence  upon  them,  esteems 
 them  as  nothing,  yea,  as  dung  and  dross 
 in  comparison  of  the  excellency  of  Christ; 
 and  in  short,  one  who  does  not  work  to 
 merit  or  purchase  his  justification,  but 
 comes  to  receive  that  invaluable  blessing 
 as  a  free  gift.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION— The  Trinity  in. 
 
 The  whole  Trinity,  all  the  persons  in 
 the  Blessed  Trinity,  have  a  hand  in  the 
 justification  of  a  sinner.  God  the  Father 
 is  said  to  justify :  "  It  is  God  that  justi- 
 fieth."  God  the  Son  is  said  to  justify: 
 "  By  Him  all  that  believe  are  justified." 
 God  the  Holy  Ghost  is  said  to  justify : 
 ."  But  ye  are  justified  by  the  Spirit  of  our 
 God."  God  the  Father  justifies,  as  He 
 pronounceth  us  righteous;  God  the  Son 
 justifies,  as  He  imputes  His  righteousness 
 unto  us ;  and  God  the  Holy  Ghost  justifies, 
 as  He  clears  up  our  justification,  and  seals 
 us  up  to  the  day  of  redemption. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION  AND  ADOPTION. 
 
 Justification  is  the  act  of  God  as  a 
 Judge;  adoption  as  a  Father.  By  the 
 former  we  are  discharged  from  condemna- 
 tion, and  accepted  as  righteous;  by  the 
 latter  we  are  made  the  children  of  God, 
 and  joint-heirs  with  Christ.  By  the  one 
 we  are  taken  into  God's  favour,  by  the 
 other  into  His  family.  Adoption  may  be 
 looked  upon  as  an  appendage  to  justifi- 
 cation, for  it  is  by  our  being  justified  that 
 we  come  to  a  right  to  all  the  honours  and 
 privileges  of  adoption.  G-uyse. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION  AND  FORGIVENESS. 
 
 Justification  and  the  remission  or  for- 
 giveness of  sin  are  substantiallj'  the  same 
 thing.  These  expressions,  I  mean  to  say, 
 relate  to  one  and  the  same  act  of  God, 
 to  one  and  the  same  privilege  of  His  be- 
 lieving people.  That  which,  viewed  in 
 one  aspect,  is  pardon,  viewed  in  another 
 is  justification.  "The  same  act,"  says 
 that  profound  divine,  Mr.  John  Howe, 
 "is  pardon,  being  done  by  God  as  a 
 Sovereign  Ruler,  acting  above  law,  namely, 
 the  law  of  works,  which  is  justification, 
 being  done  by  Him  sustaining  the  persons 
 of  a  Judge  according  to  law,  namely,  the 
 law  of  grace."  Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 Justification  is  more  than  forgiveness. 
 Though  in  the  Hfe  of  the  Christian  these 
 blessings  are  sejDarated  in  idea  only,  and 
 not  in  fact,  it  is  needful  to  discriminate 
 between  them.  .  .  .  In  the  evangelic  sense, 
 forgiveness  ensures  safety;  justification 
 confers    honour.      To   forgive    is   to   free 
 
 cm   the    consequences   of    sinning;    to 
 
 justify,  to  acquit  from  the  charge  of  sin. 
 The  one  implies  that  the  person  interested 
 has  violated  law  ;  the  other  declares  that 
 the  law  has  no  complaint  to  bring.  He 
 whom  the  King,  from  His  "  glorious  high 
 throne,"  pronounces  justified  may  challenge 
 the  scrutiny  of  creation,  and  cry,  in  words 
 that  burn,  "  Who  is  He  that  condemneth  ?" 
 "  who  shall  lay  anything  to  the  charge  of 
 God's  elect."  C.  Stanford. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION  AND  REGENERATION. 
 Justification  is  a  qualification  of  title ; 
 regeneration  of  nature.  Justification  alters 
 the  relative  character;  regeneration  the 
 personal.  Justification  reconciles  us  to 
 the  Divine  favour;  regeneration  to  the 
 Divine  service.  Justification  removes 
 every  obstacle  of  law;  regeneration  every 
 obstacle  of  disposition.  Justification  de- 
 stroys the  incapacity  of  guilt;  regenera- 
 tion the  resistance  of  depravity.  Justifi- 
 cation makes  us  one  with  God  in  accept- 
 ance ;  regeneration  makes  us  one  with 
 Him  in  will.  Justification  opens  heaven ; 
 regeneration  causes  us  to  walk  in  its  white. 
 Justification  furnishes  the  song  of  deliver- 
 ance; regeneration  teaches  us  to  modulate 
 it.  Dr.  R.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION  AND  SANCTIFICATION 
 — Connected. 
 There  may  amongst  men  be  a  change  of 
 state,  without  any  change  of  character.  A 
 prisoner  may  be  dismissed  from  the  bar, 
 acquitted  of  the  charge,  or  he  may  be  con- 
 victed but  pardoned.  But  he  may  go  with 
 all  the  principles  of  wickedness  as  strong 
 as  ever  within  him.  His  condition  is 
 changed,  but  not  his  character.  But  it  is 
 never  so  in  God's  dealings  with  men.  In 
 every  case  in  which  there  is  justification, 
 sanctification  accompanies  it.  Wherever 
 there  is  the  change  of  state,  there  is  the 
 change  of  character.  Dr.  Wardlaw. 
 
 JUSTIFICATION  AND  SANCTIFICATION 
 
 — Distingiushed. 
 The  distinction  lies  simply  in  this,  that 
 the  one  blessing  refers  to  state  or  condi- 
 tion, the  other  to  personal  character.  Jus- 
 tification is  the  opposite  of  a  state  of  guilt 
 and  condemnation;  sanctification  is  the 
 opposite  of  a  state  of  alienation  of  heart 
 from  God— the  opposite  of  moral  impurity 
 and  corruption.  Justification  consists  in 
 being  judicially  accepted  of  God ;  sancti- 
 fication in  being  devoted  to  God,  made  His 
 in  heart,  and  fitted  for  His  worship  and 
 service.  Justification  we  possess  on  the 
 ground  of  the  righteousness  of  another 
 placed  to  our  account;  sanctification  is  the 
 infusion  of  the  principles  of  righteousness 
 into  our  own  souls.  In  justification  we 
 receive  a  title  to  heaven;  in  sanctification, 
 we  are  "made  meet "  for  the  enjoyment  of 
 
JUSTIFYING  TAITH— KIIIBI7SSS. 
 
 517 
 
 heaven.  Justification  is  an  act  of  pardon 
 or  remission  ;  sanctification  is  a  progressive 
 work  of  spiritual  renovation.  Hid. 
 
 JUSTIFYING  FAITH— Acts  in. 
 
 The  acts  or  exercises  of  this  faith  seem 
 to  be  three.  Or  rather,  that  faith,  which 
 is  required  in  order  to  our  justili cation,  is 
 a  complex  act  of  the  mind,  which  includes 
 three  distinct  but  concurrent  exertions  of 
 Its  powers.     It  includes, 
 
 1.  The  assent  of  the  understanding  to 
 the  truth  of  the  testimony  of  God  in  the 
 Gospel ;  and  especially  to  that  part  of  it 
 which  concerns  the  design  and  efficacy  of 
 the  death  of  Jesus  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin. 
 
 2.  The  consent  of  the  will  and  affections 
 to  the  plan  of  salvation ;  such  an  appro- 
 bation and  choice  of  it  as  imply  a  renun- 
 ciation of  every  other  refuge,  and  a  steady 
 and  decided  adherence  to  this.  Unbelief 
 is  called  a  disallowing  of  the  foundation 
 laid  iu  Zion;  whereas  faith  includes  a 
 hearty  allowance  of  it,  and  a  thankful  ac- 
 quiescence of  it  in  God's  revealed  method 
 of  forgiveness. 
 
 3.  From  this  assent  of  the  enlightened 
 understanding,  and  consent  of  the  rectified 
 will,  to  the  evangelical  testimony  concern- 
 ing Christ  crucified,  results  the  third  thing 
 wiiich  I  suppose  to  be  implied  in  justifying 
 faith;  namely,  actual  trust  in  the  Saviour, 
 and  personal  apprehension  of  His  merits. 
 When,  under  the  promised  leading  and  in- 
 fluence of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  penitent  sinner 
 thus  confidently  relies  and  individually  lays 
 hold  on  Christ,  then  the  work  of  justifying 
 faith  is  cora])lete ;  then,  and  not  till  then,  he 
 is  immediately  justified.  Dr.  Bunting. 
 JUSTIFYING  FAITH— Ddfiuition  of. 
 
 Justifying  faith  is  such  a  belief  of  the 
 Gospel,  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of 
 God,  as  leads  us  to  come  to  Christ,  to  re- 
 ceive Christ,  to  trust  in  Christ,  to  commit 
 the  keeping  of  our  souls  into  His  hands  in 
 humble  confidence  of  His  ability  and  His 
 willingness  to  save  us.  .     Ibid. 
 
 JUSTIFYING  FAITH— Ground  of. 
 
 Justifying  faith  is  foinuled  on  a  deep 
 sense  of  need  in  ourselves,  and  of  sufficiency 
 and  suitableness  in  Clirist.  The  nature  of 
 this  faith,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  lays 
 hold  on  the  Saviour,  may  be  well  illustrated 
 from  the  incident  of  Peter's  walking  ou 
 the  sea.  We  are  in  our  natural  state 
 walking  over  the  pit  of  destruction,  and 
 we  have  nothing  more  substantial  under 
 our  feet  to  keep  us  from  sinking  tlian 
 Peter  had.  When,  therefore,  we  can  realise 
 our  situation  in  as  lively  a  manner  as  he 
 did;  when  we  can  feel  as  entire  a  desti- 
 tution of  all  hope  in  ourselves ;  when  we 
 can  cast  the  same  imploring  look  on  Jesus, 
 and  cry  to  Him  with  the  same  believing 
 couHdeuce  in  His  ability  and  willinguess 
 
 to  save — then  we  are  in  the  exercise  of  a 
 Gospel  faith,  and  this  faith  will  always 
 procure  for  us  the  interposition  of  that 
 arm  which  is  mighty  to  save.  At  that 
 very  moment  when  we  can  look  out  of 
 ourselves,  and  off  from  everything  else  for 
 salvation,  and  humbly  cast  ourselves  en- 
 tirely on  our  Redeemer,  then  we  have 
 gained  an  interest  in  His  merits.  Clirist 
 will  then  have  become  our  justification, 
 and  the  exercise  of  such  faith  will  give  us 
 a  perfect  title  to  all  that  He  has  ever  done 
 or  suffered  in  our  behalf.  This  is  His 
 own  appointed  way  of  coming  to  Him; 
 and  those  who  thus  come  unto  Him  "  He 
 will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  Lewis. 
 
 JUSTIFYING  FAITH— No  Merit  in. 
 
 When  Peter  was  sinking  in  the  sea,  and 
 cried  to  his  Master  for  help,  it  was  not  the 
 cry  which  saved  him,  but  the  hand  and 
 power  of  Jesus ;  and  his  supplicatory  cry 
 was  only  a  means  of  awakening  his  Master's 
 compassion.  So  faith,  instead  of  saving  us 
 in  itself,  saves  us  by  interesting  us  iu  the 
 mercy  and  ability  of  the  Redeemer.  As 
 one  of  our  homilies  expresses  it,  "  Faith 
 sends  us  to  Christ,  as  John  the  Baptist 
 sent  the  people  to  Him  from  himSelf,  say- 
 ing. It  is  not  I  that  take  away  your  sins, 
 but  Christ  only.  Behold,  yonder,  is  the 
 Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sins 
 of  the  world."  Ibid. 
 
 K. 
 
 KEEPSAKES. 
 
 Of  all  keepsakes,  memorials,  relics,  most 
 tenderly,  most  dearly,  most  devotedly, 
 James,  do  I  love  a  little  lock  of  hair  !  and 
 oh  !  when  the  head  it  beautified  has  long 
 mouldered  in  the  dust,  how  spiritual  seems 
 the  undying  glossiness  of  the  sole  remain- 
 ing ringlet !  All  else  gone  to  nothing — 
 save  and  except  that  soft,  smooth,  bur- 
 nished, golden,  and  glorious  fragment  of 
 the  apparelling  that  once  hung  in  clouds 
 and  sunshine  over  an  angel's  brow. 
 
 'Professor  Wilson. 
 KINDNESS— Deeds  of. 
 Snp]wse  the  little  cowslip 
 
 Sliould  hang  its  golden  cup, 
 And  say,  "  I'm  such  a  tiny  flower 
 
 I'd  better  not  grow  up  ; — 
 How  many  a  weary  traveller 
 
 Would  miss  its  fragrant  smell. 
 How  many  a  little  child  would  grieve 
 
 To  lose  it  from  the  dtll. 
 Suppose  the  glistening  dewdrop 
 
 Upon  the  grass  should  say, 
 "  What  can  a  little  dewdrop  do  ? 
 
 I'd  better  roll  away;" 
 The  blade  on  which  it  rested 
 
 Before  the  day  was  done, 
 
 Without  a  drop  to  moisten  it. 
 
 Would  wither  iu  the  sun. 
 
518 
 
 KINDTTESS. 
 
 Suppose  tho  little  lireczes, 
 
 Upon  a  summer's  clay, 
 Should  think  themselves  too  small  to  cool 
 
 The  traveller  on  his  way  ; 
 Who  would  not  miss  the  smallest 
 
 And  softest  ones  that  blow. 
 And  think  they  made  a  great  mistake 
 
 That  heard  them  talking  so? 
 How  many  deeds  of  kindness 
 
 A  little  child  may  do  ; 
 Although  it  has  so  little  strength 
 
 And  little  wisdom  too. 
 It  wants  a  loving  spirit, 
 
 Much  moi-e  than  strength,  to  prove 
 How  many  things  a  child  may  do 
 
 For  others  by  its  love.  F.  P. 
 
 KINDNESS— Defective. 
 
 The  kindness  of  some  is  too  much  like 
 an  echo ;  it  returns  exactly  the  counter- 
 part of  what  it  receives,  and  neither  more 
 nor  less  (Matt,  v,  46,  47).        O.  S.  Boices. 
 
 KIKDITESS— Definitions  of. 
 
 Kindness  is  civil  behaviour,  favorable 
 treatment,  or  a  constant  and  habitual  prac- 
 tice of  friendly  offices  and  benevolent 
 actions.  C.  Buck. 
 
 It  may  be  defined  as  "lighting  our 
 neighbour's  candle  by  our  own,"  by  which 
 we  lose  nothing  and  impart  something. 
 
 Anon. 
 EISDUESS— DiHerent. 
 
 One  man  has  kindness  deep  within  him  ; 
 and  when  the  occasion  comes,  the  rind  or 
 shell  is  cracked,  and  the  kernel  is  found. 
 Such  a  man's  heart,  too  long  clouded,  like 
 a  sun  in  a  storm-nuiflled  day,  shoots 
 through  some  opening  rift,  and  glows  I'or  a 
 period  in  glory.  But  there  are  other 
 natures  that  are  always  cloudless.  With 
 them,  a  cloud  is  the  exception,  shining  is 
 the  rule.  They  rise  radiant  over  the 
 horizon  ;  they  fill  the  whole  heavens  with 
 growing  brightness,  and  all  day  long  they 
 overhang  life,  pouring  down  an  undi- 
 minished flood  of  brightness  and  warmth. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 KIHDNESS— Memory  of. 
 
 Among  the  Alps,  when  the  day  is  done, 
 and  twilight  and  darkness  are  creeping 
 over  fold  and  hamlet  in  the  valleys  below, 
 Mont  Rosa  and  Mont  Blanc  rise  up  far 
 above  the  darkness,  catching  from  the  re- 
 treating sun  something  of  his  light,  flushed 
 with  rose-colour,  exquisite  beyond  all  words 
 or  pencil  or  paint,  glowing  like  the  gate  of 
 heaven. 
 
 And  so  past  favours  and  kindnesses  lift 
 themselves  np  in  the  memory  of  noble 
 ii;itures,  and  long  after  the  lower  parts  of 
 life  are  darkened  by  neglec  t,  or  selfishness, 
 or  anger,  former  loves,  high  up  above  all 
 
 clouds,  glow  with  Divine  rndiar,oe  and 
 seem  to  forbid  the  advance  of  night  any 
 further.  M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 KINDNESS— Origin  of  the  Word. 
 
 The  very  word  kindness  comes  from  the 
 cognate  word,  kinned,  that  is,  one  of  the 
 same  kin  or  race;  acknowledging  and  re- 
 minding us  of  the  fact  that  all  men  are 
 brethren — all  of  the  same  blood — and 
 therefore  they  should  all  act  as  brethren. 
 All  who  are  of  the  same  kindred  should 
 be  kind.  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 KINDNESS— Power  of. 
 
 A  horse  passing  down  the  street  in  a 
 stage  suddenly  stood  still,  and  refused  to 
 go.  He  put  down  his  forefoot  and  became 
 as  stubborn  as  a  mule.  The  driver  beat 
 him  with  great  severity,  but  the  animal 
 still  refused  to  go.  Fiually  a  respectable 
 person,  a  passer-by,  picked  up  a  little  hay 
 and  put  it  before  the  horse.  He  ate  it, 
 and  the  friend  kindly  patted  him  on  the 
 neck  and  coaxed  him.  In  a  minute  or  two 
 the  stubbornness  was  gone,  and  the  horse, 
 with  driver,  were  on  their  way. 
 
 So  let  parents,  masters,  teachers,  minis- 
 ters, try  the  hand  and  food  of  kindness 
 with  all  stubborn  souls,  with  whom  they 
 may  have  to  do.  Jo7in  Bate. 
 
 I  remember  once  a  valued  friend  of  mine, 
 a  bai-rister,  now  passed  away,  who  s^jent 
 his  Sundays  in  visiting  an  hospital.  He 
 told  me  that  on  one  occasion  he  sat  down 
 by  the  bedside  of  one  of  the  very  poorest, 
 the  most  ignorant,  and  without  using  the 
 word  in  any  ofiensive  manner,  one  of  the 
 very  lowest  men  he  had  ever  seen  in  his 
 life — a  man  whose  English,  had  it  been 
 taken  down,  would  have  been  the  most 
 complete  and  perfect  dislocation  of  the 
 Queen's  English  that  he  ever  heard.  No 
 word  seemed  to  be  in  its  right  place.  It 
 seemed  as  if  that  which  should  have  been 
 a  jointed  and  vertebrated  sentence  had 
 been  separated  at  every  joint,  and  thrown 
 together  anjhow.  My  friend  was  a  man 
 of  the  most  tender  spirit — a  man  whose 
 tender  spirit  radiated  from  one  of  the  most 
 striking  i'-M-.es  I  ever  saw ;  and  I  can  well 
 understand  how  he  looked  when  he  sat 
 down  by  that  poor  man's  bed.  He  began 
 first,  as  all  should  who  visit  the  sick,  to 
 brtak  ground  on  temporal  matters,  to  sym- 
 pathise with  them  on  that  which  they  can 
 understand  so  well — their  bodily  sufferings 
 — to  show  that  we  are  not  indifi'erent  to 
 what  they  are  suft'ering  as  men  ;  and  then, 
 alter  speaking  a  few  kind  words,  he  was 
 proceeding  to  say  something  further  for  hia 
 
EIKDNESS. 
 
 519 
 
 Mn^fcr,  ■u-liom  Vie  so  dearly  loved,  wlien  he 
 snw  the  man's  face  beg'hi  to  work  convul- 
 sively. Tlie  muscles  quivered,  and  at  last, 
 lifting  up  the  sheet,  and  drawing  down  his 
 head,  he  threw  the  sheet  over  his  face, 
 burst  into  a  violent  flood  of  tears  and 
 sobbed  aloud.  My  friend  wisely  waited 
 till  this  store  of  grief  was  passed,  and  then 
 the  poor  fellow  emerged  from  under  the 
 clothes,  his  face  bearing  the  traces  of  tears 
 that  had  flowed  down  it.  When  he  was 
 able  to  speak,  my  friend  asked  him — 
 
 "  What  is  it  that  has  so  touched  you  ? 
 I  hope  that  I  have  not  said  anything  that 
 was  painful  to  you.  What  can  have  moved 
 you  so  much  ?" 
 
 And  as  well  as  the  man  could  sob  out, 
 he  sobbed  out  these  words  : 
 
 "  Sir,  you  are  the  first  man  that  ever 
 spoke  a  kind  word  to  me  since  I  was  jorn, 
 and  I  can't  stand  it."  Champneys. 
 
 KINDNESS— Reciprocal. 
 
 Androcles  from  his  injured  lord,  in  dread 
 Of  instant  death,  to  Libya's  desert  fled. 
 Tired  with  his  toilsome  flight,  and  parched 
 
 with  heat. 
 He  spied,  at  length,  a  cavern's  cool  retreat : 
 But  scarce  had  given  to  rest  his  weary 
 
 frame, 
 When,  hugest  of  his  kind,  a  lion  came  : 
 He  roared  approaching ;    but  the  savage 
 
 din 
 To    plaintiff    murmurs    changed,    arrived 
 
 within, 
 And  with  expressive  looks  his  lifted  paw 
 Presenting,  aid  implored  from  whom  he 
 
 saw. 
 The  fugitive,  through  terror  at  a  stand. 
 Dared   not   awhile    afibrd   his   trembling 
 
 hand, 
 But  bolder  grown,  at  length  inherent  found 
 A  pointed   thoin,  and  drew  it  from  the 
 
 wound. 
 The   cure   was  wrought ;    he   wiped   the 
 
 sanious  blood, 
 And  firm   and  free    from   pain    the  lion 
 
 stood ; 
 Again  he  seeks  the  wilds,  and  day  by  day 
 Et'gales  his  inmate  with  the  parted  prey. 
 Kor  he  disdains  the  dole,  though  unpre- 
 pared. 
 Spread  on  the    ground,  and  with  a  lion 
 
 shared. 
 But  thus  to  live — still  lost — sequestered 
 
 still- 
 Scarce  seemed  his  lord's  revenge  a  heavier 
 
 ill. 
 Home!    native  home!      O  might  he  but 
 
 repair  i 
 He  must — he  will,  though  death  attends 
 
 him  there. 
 He   goes,  and,  doomed  to  perish  on  the 
 
 sands 
 Oi  tlje  full  theatre,  uupitied  stands ; 
 
 Wlien  lo  !  the  self-same  lion  from  his  cage 
 Flies  to  devour  him,  famished  into  rage. 
 He  flics,  but  viewing  in  his  purposed  prey 
 The  man  his  healer,  pauses  on  his  way, 
 And  softened  by  remembrance  into  sweet 
 And  kind  composure,  crouches  at  his  feet. 
 Mute  with  astonishment  the  assembly  gaze; 
 But  why,  ye  Romans  ?    Whence  your  mute 
 
 amaze  ? 
 All  this  is  natural — nature  bade  him  rend 
 An  enemy ;  she  bids  him  spare  a  friend. 
 
 Cowper. 
 KINDNESS— Eecollection  of. 
 Be  kind  to  each  other  ! 
 
 The  night's  coming  on. 
 When  friend  and  when  brother 
 
 Perchance  may  be  gone ! 
 Then  'midst  our  dejection. 
 
 How  sweet  to  have  earn'd 
 The  blest  recollection 
 
 Or  kindness — returned  ! 
 When  day  hath  departed. 
 
 And  memory  keeps 
 Her  watch,  broken-hearted. 
 
 When  all  she  loved  sleeps !     Stoain. 
 
 KINDNESS— Eemiuding  of. 
 
 He  who  confers  a  favour  should  at  once 
 forget  it,  if  he  is  not  to  show  a  sordid  un- 
 generous spirit.  To  remind  a  man  of  a 
 kindness  conferred  on  him,  and  to  talk  of 
 it,  is  little  different  from  reproach. 
 
 Demosthenes. 
 KINDNESS— "Words  of. 
 Sweet    as    refreshing    dews    or    summer 
 
 showers. 
 To  the  long-parching  thirst  of  drooping 
 
 flowers ; 
 Grateful    as    fanning    gales    to    fainting 
 
 swains ; 
 And   soft  as   trickling   balm  to  bleeding 
 
 pains. 
 Are  thy  kind  words.  Ga^. 
 
 A  little  word  in  kindness  spoken, 
 
 A  motion  or  a  tear. 
 Has  often  healed  the  heart  that's  broken. 
 
 And  made  a  friend  sincere. 
 A  word — a  look — has  crushed  to  earth 
 
 Full  many  a  budding  flower, 
 WTiich,  had  a  smile  but  owned  its  birth, 
 
 Would  bless  life's  darkest  hour. 
 Then  deem  it  not  an  idle  thing 
 
 A  pleasant  word  to  speak ; 
 The    face   you    wear — the    thoughts   you 
 bring — 
 
 A  heart  may  heal  or  break. 
 
 J.  G.  Whit  Her. 
 KINDNESS  IN  WOMAN. 
 
 Kindness  in   woman,   not   her   beauteous 
 
 looks. 
 Shall  win  my  love.  SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 KINDNESS  TO  AN  ENEMY. 
 
 A  slave,  who  haJ  by  the  force  of  his 
 
520 
 
 KINDNESS— KINGDOM  OP  GOD. 
 
 sterling  worth  risen  high  in  the  confidence 
 of  his  master,  saw  one  day,  trembling  in 
 the  slave  market,  a  negro,  whose  gray  head 
 and  bent  form  showed  him  to  be  in  the  last 
 weakness  of  old  age.  He  implored  his 
 master  to  purchase  him.  He  expressed  his 
 surprise,  but  gave  his  consent.  The  old 
 man  was  bought  and  conveyed  to  the 
 estate.  When  there,  he  who  had  pleaded 
 for  him  took  him  to  his  own  cabin — placed 
 him  on  his  own  bed — fed  him  at  his  own 
 board — gave  him  water  from  his  own  cup ; 
 when  he  shivered  carried  him  into  the 
 sunshine ;  when  he  drooped  in  the  hut, 
 bore  him  softly  to  the  shade.  "  What 
 is  the  meaning  of  all  this  P"  asked  a  wit- 
 ness. "  Is  he  your  father  ?"  "  No."  "  Is 
 he  your  brother  ?"  "  No.''  "  Is  he,  then 
 your  friend?"  "No!  he  is  my  enemy. 
 Years  ago  he  stole  me  from  my  native  vil- 
 lage, and  sold  me  for  a  slave  :  and  the  good 
 Lord  has  said,  '  If  thine  enemy  hunger, 
 feed  him  :  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink,  for 
 in  so  doing,  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  on 
 bis  head.'  "  C.  Stanford. 
 
 KINDNESS  TO  THE  ERRING. 
 
 For  my  part,  I  confess  I  have  not  the 
 heart  to  take  an  ofiending  man  or  woman 
 from  the  general  crowd  of  sinful,  erring 
 beings,  and  judge  them  harshly.  The  little 
 I  have  seen  of  the  world,  and  know  of  the 
 history  of  mankind,  teaches  me  to  look 
 upon  the  errors  of  others  in  sorrow,  not 
 anger.  When  I  take  the  history  of  one 
 poor  heart  that  has  sinned  and  suffered, 
 and  represant  to  myself  the  struggles  and 
 temptations  it  has  passed,  the  brief  pulsa- 
 tions of  joy,  the  feverish  inquietude  of 
 hope  and  fear,  the  tears  of  regret,  the 
 feebleness  of  purpose,  the  pressure  of  want, 
 the  desertion  of  friends,  the  scorn  of  the 
 world  that  has  but  little  charity,  the  deso- 
 lation of  the  soul's  sanctuary,  and  threaten- 
 ing voice  within,  health  gone,  even  hope, 
 that  stays  longest  with  us,  gone,  I  have 
 little  heart  for  aught  else  but  thankfulness 
 that  it  is  not  so  with  me,  and  would  fain 
 leave  the  erring  soul  of  my  fellow-being 
 with  Him  from  whose  hands  it  came  ; 
 
 "  Even  as  a  little  child. 
 Weeping  and  laughing  in  its  childish  sport." 
 Anon. 
 KINDNESS  OF  GOD. 
 
 The  mountains  are  the  most  stable  ob- 
 jects in  the  material  world  ;  —  nature's 
 noblest  emblem  of  immutability.  But 
 these  have  "  change"  written  ui)on  their 
 stupendous  brows.  Time  is  furrowing 
 them  with  wrinkles — wearing  down  their 
 colossal  forms.  Atmospheric  influences  are 
 subjecting  them  to  continual  waste  and 
 decay.  The  hoary  crowned  Alp  is  included 
 in  the  doom,  "  All  these  things  shall  be  dis- 
 solved."    But  more  enduring  than  moun- 
 
 taiiis  of  primeval    granite  is  God's  kind- 
 ness." K.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 KINDNESS  TO  THE  UNGEATEFUL. 
 
 He  who  does  a  kindness  to  an  ungrate- 
 ful person  sets  his  seal  to  a  flint,  and  sows 
 his  seed  upon  the  sand.  Upon  the  former 
 he  makes  no  impression,  and  iiom  the  latter 
 he  finds  no  production.  Lr.  South. 
 
 KING— Cares  of  a. 
 
 Ill  do  you  know  the  spectral  forms  that  wait 
 Upon  a  king  :  care  with  his  furrow'd  brow, 
 Unsleeping  watchfulness,  lone  secresy. 
 Attend   his   throne  by   day,  his  couch   by 
 night.  Lord  Russell. 
 
 Princes   have    but    their    titles   for    their 
 
 glories. 
 An  outward  honour  for  nn  inward  toil; 
 And  for  unfelt  imaginations. 
 They  often  feel  a  world  of  restle>s  cnrp«. 
 
 Shakes})tare. 
 KING — Graces  becoming  a. 
 
 The  king-becoming  graces 
 Ai-e  justice,  verity,  temperance,  stableness, 
 Bounty,  perseverance,  mercy,  lowliness. 
 Devotion,  patience,  courage,  fortitude. 
 
 Ibid. 
 KING— a  True. 
 
 He's  a  king, 
 A  true,  right  king,  that  dare   do  aught, 
 
 save  wrong  ; 
 Pears  nothing  mortal,  but  to  be  unjust; 
 Who  is  not  blown  up  with  the  flattering 
 
 puffs 
 Of  spongy   sycophants  ;    who    stands    un- 
 moved. 
 Despite  the  jostling  of  opinion.      3Iarsion, 
 
 KINGDOM  OF  GOD— Meaning  of  the. 
 
 The  phrase  "  kingdom  of  God"  is,  like 
 some  New  Testament  phrases,  employed 
 with  some  variety  of  signification — all  the 
 varieties,  however,  having  a  common  rela- 
 tion. Sometimes  the  expression,  "  king- 
 dom of  God,"  implies  the  subjects  of 
 Christ's  sceptre,  the  aggregate,  the  mul- 
 titude of  the  "  called,  and  faithful,  and 
 chosen" — that  part  of  them  that  are  on 
 earth.  And  then  it  is  called  the  kingdom 
 of  Christ  in  the  tvorld ;  and  at  other  times 
 that  part  which  has  arrived  already  in 
 heaven — and  then  it  is  called  the  kingdom 
 of  ff  lor  I/.  Sometimes  the  expression  inti- 
 mates the  unearthly  genius  or  constitution 
 of  Christianity ;  as  where  the  Saviour  says, 
 "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world."  At 
 other  times,  the  expression  implies  the 
 privileges,  and  endowments,  and  enjoy- 
 nients  experienced  and  exemplified  under 
 the  administration  of  Messias  ;  as  "  th.e 
 kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink, 
 but  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in 
 the    Holy   Ghost."      At    other    times,  it 
 
KIjS'GrOM  OF  SATAUT— KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 521 
 
 implies  the  simple  Gospel  message,  the 
 announcement  of  i-evealed  truth — the  dis- 
 pensation, the  promulgation  of  the  Go.-^pel 
 itself ;  as  where  it  is  said,  "  The  king- 
 dom of  God  shall  he  taken  from  you,  and 
 given  to  a  nation  hringlng  forth  the  fruits 
 thereof."  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 KIITGDOM  OF  GOD— Threefold. 
 
 1.  Providence ;  He  exerciseth  the  king- 
 dom of  His  providence  in  the  world  :  "  He 
 putteth  down  one  and  setteth  up  another." 
 Nothing  stirs  in  the  world  but  God  hath  a 
 hand  in  it.  He  sets  every  wheel  a-work- 
 ing;  He  humbles  the  proud,  and  raiseth 
 the  poor  out  of  the  dust,  to  set  them 
 among  princes  (1  Sam.  ii,  8).  The  king- 
 dom of  God's  providence  ruleth  over  all ; 
 kings  do  nothing  but  what  His  providence 
 permits  and  orders. 
 
 2.  The  kingdom  of  grace,  which  king- 
 dom God  exerciseth  in  the  consciences  of 
 his  people  ;  this  is  regnum  Dei  Mikeon. 
 
 3.  The  kingdom  of  glory  [which  is  the 
 future  life  of  the  righteous  in  heaven]. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 KINGDOM  OF  GRACE  AND  GLOEY. 
 
 These  two  kingdoms  of  grace  and  glory 
 differ  not  specifically,  but  gradually;  they 
 differ  not  in  nature  but  only  in  degree. 
 The  kingdom  of  grace  is  nothing  but  the 
 inchoation  or  beginning  of  the  kingdom  of 
 glory  J  the  kingdom  of  grace  is  glory  in 
 the  seed,  and  the  kingdom  of  glory  is 
 grace  in  the  flower  :  the  kingdom  of  grace 
 is  glory  in  the  daybreak,  and  the  kingdom 
 of  glory  is  grace  in  the  full  ineridian  ;  the 
 kingdom  of  grace  is  glory  militant,  and 
 the  kingdom  of  glory  is  grace  triumphant. 
 There  is  such  an  inseparable  connection 
 between  these  two  kingdoms,  grace  and 
 glory,  that  there  is  no  passing  into  the  one 
 kingdom  but  by  the  other.  At  Athens 
 there  were  two  temples,  a  temple  of  virtue 
 and  a  temple  of  honour  ;  and  there  was  no 
 going  into  the  temple  of  honour  but  through 
 the  temple  of  virtue ;  so  the  kingdoms  of 
 grace  and  glory  are  so  joined  together  that 
 we  cannot  go  into  the  kingdom  of  glory 
 but  through  the  kingdom  of  grace.  Many 
 people  aspire  after  the  kingdom  of  glory, 
 but  never  look  after  grace  ;  but  these  two, 
 which  God  hath  joined  together,  may  not 
 be  put  asunder ;  the  kingdom  of  grace  leads 
 to  the  kingdom  of  glory.  T.  Watson. 
 
 KINGDOM  OF  SATAN— Character  of  the. 
 
 1.  It  is  a  kingdom  of  impiety;  nothing 
 but  sin  goes  on  in  his  kingdom,  murder 
 and  heresy,  lust  and  treaciiery,  oppression 
 and  division,  are  tlie  constant  trades  driven 
 in  Satan's  kingdom. 
 
 2.  It  is  a  kingdom  of  slavery;  Satan 
 makes  all  his  subjects  slaves.  He  is  a 
 usurper  and  tyrant ;  worse  than  any  tyrant. 
 
 (I)  Other  tyrants  do  but  rule  over  the 
 body ;  but  Satan  rules  over  the  soul,  he 
 rides  some  men  as  we  do  horses.  (2)  Other 
 tyrants  have  some  pity  on  their  slaves; 
 though  they  make  them  work  in  the 
 galleys,  yet  they  give  them  meat  and  let 
 them  have  their  hours  for  rest ;  but  Satan 
 is  a  merciless  tyrant,  he  gives  them  poison 
 instead  of  meat,  feeds  them  on  lust;  he 
 gives  them  no  rest,  but  ever  drives  them 
 on  in  his  drudgery.  When  he  entered 
 Judas  he  gave  him  no  rest  until  he  had 
 betrayed  Christ  and  hanged  himself.  When 
 men  have  served  him  to  the  utmost,  he 
 will  welcome  them  to  hell  with  fire  and 
 brimstone.  Ihid. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Definition  of. 
 
 Knowledge  is  that  information  which  the 
 mind  receives,  either  by  its  own  experience 
 or  by  the  testimony  of  others.  The  bene- 
 ficial use  of  knowledge  is  wisdom.  That 
 portion  of  knoioledge,  the  truth  of  which 
 can  be  demonstrated,  is  science.    Maunder. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Desire  of. 
 
 A  desire  of  knowledge  is  natural  to  the 
 mind  of  man,  and  nothing  discovers  the 
 true  quality  and  disposition  of  the  mind 
 more  than  the  particular  kind  of  knowledge 
 it  is  most  fond  of.  Thus  we  see  that  low 
 and  little  minds  are  most  delighted  with 
 the  knowledge  of  trifles,  as  in  children ;  an 
 indolent  mind  with  that  which  serves  only 
 for  amusement  or  the  entertainment  of  the 
 fancy ;  a  curious  mind  is  best  pleased  with 
 facts ;  a  judicious  penetrating  mind  with 
 demonstrations  and  mathematical  science; 
 a  worldly  mind  esteems  no  knowledge  like 
 that  of  the  world ;  but  a  wise  and  pious 
 man,  before  all  other  kinds  of  knowledge, 
 prefers  that  of  God  and  his  own  soul. 
 
 J.  Mason. 
 
 Boswell  relates  the  following  anecdote 
 of  a  boy  who  rowed  him  and  his  friend 
 Dr.  Johnson  down  the  Thames.  They 
 were  conversing  upon  the  use  of  learning, 
 and  the  former  observed :  "  This  boy  rows 
 us  as  well  without  learning  as  if  he  could 
 sing  the  song  of  Orpheus  to  the  Argonauts, 
 who  were  the  first  sailors."  He  then 
 called  to  the  boy :  "  What  would  you 
 give,  my  lad,  to  know  about  the  Argo- 
 nauts?" "Sir,"  said  the  boy,  "I  would 
 give  what  I  have."  Johnson  was  much 
 pleased  with  his  answer,  and  we  gave  him 
 a  double  fare.  Ur.  Johnson  then  turning 
 to  me,  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  a  desire  of  know- 
 ledge is  the  natural  ieeling  of  mankind; 
 and  every  human  being  whose  mind  is  not 
 debauched  vvill  be  willing  to  give  all  that 
 he  has  to  get  knowledge."  Boswell. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— without  Discretion. 
 
 Knowledge   hath   two   pillars,  learning 
 
522 
 
 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 and  discretion.  The  greatest  scholar  with- 
 out his  two  eyes  of  discretion  and  lionesty, 
 is  lilje  blind  Samson;  apt  to  no  good,  able 
 to  much  mischief.  T.  Adams. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Human  and  Angelic. 
 
 In  the  matter  of  knowledge  there  is,  be- 
 tween the  angels  of  God  and  the  children 
 of  men,  this  difference, — angels  already 
 ha^ve  full  and  complete  knowledge  in  the 
 highest  degree  that  can  be  imparted  unto 
 them  ;  men,  if  we  view  them  in  their 
 spring,  are  at  the  first  without  under- 
 standing or  knowledge  at  all.  Neverthe- 
 less, from  this  utter  vacuity  they  grow  by 
 degrees,  till  they  come  at  length  to  be  even 
 as  the  angels  themselves  are.  Hooker. 
 
 KN07/LEDGE— Impertinent. 
 
 The  itch  of  impertinent  and  unprofitable 
 knowledge  hath  been  the  hereditary  disease 
 of  the  sons  of  Adam  and  Eve.  How  many 
 have  perished  to  know  that  which  hath 
 procured  their  perishing !  Bp.  Sail. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Offices  of. 
 
 In  the  performance  of  its  sacred  offices 
 it  fears  no  danger,  spares  no  expense,  looks 
 in  the  volcano,  dives  into  the  ocean,  per- 
 forates the  earth,  wings  its  flight  into  the 
 skies,  enriches  the  globe,  explores  sea  and 
 land,  contemplates  the  distant,  examines 
 the  minute,  comprehends  the  great,  ascends 
 to  the  sublime,  no  place  too  remote  for  its 
 grasp,  no  heavens  too  exalted  for  its  reach. 
 De  Witt  Clinton. 
 KNOWLEDGE— Partial. 
 
 We  are,  as  to  the  grand  system  and 
 series  of  God's  governiiient,  like  a  man 
 who,  confined  in  a  dark  room,  should  ob- 
 serve, through  a  chink  of  the  wall,  some 
 large  animal  passing  by ; — he  sees  but  an 
 extremely  narrow  strip  of  the  object  at 
 once  as  it  moves  by,  and  is  utterly  unable 
 to  form  an  idea  of  the  size,  proportions,  or 
 shape  of  it.  J.  Foster. 
 
 "  We  see  but  in  part,"  in  the  language 
 of  the  Bible,  is  well  and  forcibly  illustrated 
 in  the  following : — A  traveller,  as  he  passed 
 through  a  large  and  thick  wood,  saw  a  part 
 of  a  huge  oak,  which  appeared  misshapen, 
 and  almost  seemed  to  spoil  the  scenery. 
 "  If,"  said  he,  "  I  was  the  owner  of  this 
 forest,  I  would  cut  down  that  tree."  But 
 when  he  had  ascended  the  hill,  and  taken 
 a  lull  view  of  the  forest,  this  same  tree 
 appeared  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the 
 landscape.  "  How  erroneously,"  said  he, 
 "  I  have  judged  while  I  saw  only  a  part !" 
 Tills  plain  tale  illustrates  the  plans  of  God. 
 We  now  see  but  in  part.  The  full  view, 
 the  harmony  and  proportion  of  things,  are 
 all  necessary  to  clear  up  our  judgment. 
 
 Dr.  Olin. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Practical. 
 
 Only  add 
 Deeds  to  thy  knowledge  answerable ;  add 
 
 faith. 
 Add  virtue,  patience,  temperance ;  add  love. 
 By  name  to  come  call'd  charity,  the  soul 
 Of  all  the  rest.     Then  wilt  thou  not  be 
 
 loath 
 To  leave  this  paradise,  but  shalt  possess 
 A  paradise  within  thee,  happier  far. 
 
 Milton. 
 KNOWLEDGE— Pursuit  of. 
 
 Let  us  arise  by  sanctified  meditation  to 
 the  survey  of  the  immense  field  spread  out 
 before  us.  Let  us  view  science  in  all  its 
 aspects.  Let  us  also  stand  on  a  holy 
 mountain  whence  we  may  see  the  land 
 which  the  Lord  has  given  to  us  to  conquer 
 and  possess.  Let  us  keep  near  to  the 
 river,  and  then,  if  necessary,  let  us  pursue 
 its  whole  extent.  Let  us  glance  up  to  its 
 source  and  follow  its  current  afar  off. 
 Let  us  distinguish  its  forms,  its  secondary 
 streams,  its  principal  branches  from  the 
 accessory  branches.  Let  us  examine  the 
 mai'sh  in  which  its  pure  water  is  cor- 
 rupted, because  the  impulse  of  the  former 
 stream  is  wanting.  Let  us  contemplate  it 
 when  its  fructifying  waters  are  flowing 
 along  shores  enriched  by  its  gifts,  and 
 when  its  foaming  waves  rush  on  with  im- 
 petuosity. Let  us  consider  the  tributary 
 streams  that  bring  foreign  waters  to  it, 
 and  the  various  soils  over  which  it  rolls, 
 that  we  may  be  well  acquainted  with  the 
 elements  it  derives  from  them.  It  is  by 
 all  these  branches  of  knowledge  that 
 science  is  formed.  We  must  weigh  all 
 the  influences,  discern  all  the  combina- 
 tions that  we  may  derive  from  the  Chris- 
 tian system,  and  construct  sacred  theo- 
 logy, which  is  man's  noblest  science,  since 
 it  is  the  science  of  God.  Dr.  Auhigne. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  (Limits  to)— Eeligious. 
 
 Let  no  man  presume  to  understand  above 
 that  which  is  meet  to  understand.  The 
 star,  when  it  came  to  Christ,  stood  still, 
 and  went  no  further ;  so,  when  we  come  to 
 the  knowledge  of  Christ,  we  should  stand 
 still  and  go  no  further ;  for  Paul  was  con- 
 tent to  know  nothing  but  Christ  crucified. 
 It  is  not  necessary  to  know  that  which 
 God  hath  not  revealed :  and  the  well  of 
 God's  secrets  is  so  deep,  that  no  bucket  of 
 man  can  sound  it ;  therefore  we  must  row 
 in  shallow  waters,  because  our  boats  are 
 light,  and  small,  and  soon  overturned. 
 They  which  have  such  crotchets  and  cir- 
 cumstances in  their  brain,  I  have  marked 
 this  in  them,  that  they  seldom  find  any 
 room  for  that  which  they  should  know, 
 but  go  to  and  fro  seeking  and  seeking, 
 like  them  which  sought  Elias's  body,  and 
 found  it  not.    Let  men  desire  knowledge. 
 
KlfOWLEDGE. 
 
 523 
 
 as  Solomon  did;  but  not  desire  knowledge 
 as  Eve  did.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  (Scriptural)— Pleasure  of. 
 
 Of  the  pleasure  which  springs  from 
 knowledge,  and  especially  from  that  know- 
 ledge which  the  Holy  Scriptures  commu- 
 nicate, we  cannot  conceive  too  highly.  To 
 know  God,  to  contemplate  the  perfections 
 of  His  nature,  and  the  wonders  of  His 
 hand  ;  to  become  acquainted  with  that 
 regular  and  orderly  plan  by  which  He 
 governs  His  creatures  ;  to  observe  His 
 watchful  care  and  providential  regard ;  to 
 behold  the  wonders  of  redemption,  the 
 character  and  undertaking  of  Jesus,  the 
 doctrine  He  hath  taught,  the  duties  He 
 hath  enforced,  the  promises  He  hath  given  ; 
 to  discover  the  means  of  salvation,  the 
 economy  of  the  invisible  world,  and  the 
 continuance  of  our  own  existence  in  that 
 immortality  which  is  brought  to  lig'nt  by 
 the  Gospel.  These  and  many  other  subjects 
 of  ecjual  importance,  when  opened  to  the 
 mind,  not  only  give  pleasure  as  speculative 
 discoveries  and  the  solutions  of  distressing 
 doubts,  but  by  awakening  virtuous  senti- 
 ments, kindling  an  ardent  and  elevated 
 devotion,  giving  support  and  reasonable- 
 ness to  hope,  and  influencing  to  the  dis- 
 charge of  every  religious  and  moral  duty, 
 produce  also  the  testimony  of  a  good  con- 
 science, and  the  favour  of  God  ;  the  present 
 possession  of  the  peace  of  the  Gospel  and 
 the  prospect  of  a  future  fulness  of  joy  in 
 the  presence  of  God  for  ever.  R.  Watson. 
 KNOWLEDGE  (Spiritual)— Fruits  of, 
 
 Wlienever  we  approach  the  fountains  of 
 truth,  we  shall  begin  to  grow  wise  in 
 Christ ;  His  commandments  will  become 
 plain,  and  we  shall  be  regaled  by  the 
 nectar  of  heavenly  wisdom.  When  we 
 have  gathered  the  clusters  of  Engedi,  the 
 bridegx-oom  will  come  leaping  on  the 
 mountains,  skipping  upon  the  hills,  and 
 with  the  kisses  of  His  mouth,  and  the 
 savour  of  His  good  oiutments  poured 
 forth,  will  anoint  those  who  are  con- 
 ducted into  the  palaces  of  Eden.  United 
 to  Him  we  shall  live  and  thrive,  contem- 
 plating Zion  and  Salem  in  the  secret 
 silence  of  adoration.  Such  is  the  fruit 
 of  celestial  knowledge,  which  will  always 
 claim  our  prime  regard  when  divested  of 
 human  fancies.  Melancthon. 
 
 KK'OWLEDGE  (Spiritual)— Good  of. 
 
 Is  it  good  for  the  eye  to  be  deprived  of 
 light,  for  the  ear  to  be  deprived  of  sound, 
 for  the  stomach  to  be  derived  of  food  ? 
 Is  not  light  the  food  of  the  eye,  harmony 
 the  food  of  the  ear,  alimentary  substance 
 the  food  of  the  stomach  ?  Knowledge  fits 
 the  mind  as  well  as  light  fits  the  eye,  as 
 well  as  music  fits  the  ear,  as  well  as  food 
 fits  the  stomach ;  and  as  to  deprive  tlie  eye 
 
 of  light,  and  the  ear  of  melody,  and  the 
 stomach  of  food  necessary  to  the  mainte- 
 nance of  animal  life  were  not  good,  so, 
 "  for  the  soul  to  be  without  knowledge," 
 that  "  is  not  good."  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  (Spiritual)— Power  of. 
 
 The  most  exact  knowledge  that  can  be 
 had  in  the  book  of  nature  in  human  sciences 
 doth  always  end  in  contemplation ;  it  is 
 but  like  music  which  vanisheth  with  the 
 motion,  it  leaves  no  permanent  mirth  be- 
 hind it.  Whereas  the  contemplation  of 
 the  mystery  of  godliness  (so  it  be  frequent 
 and  serious)  doth  always  imprint  and  in- 
 stil the  sweet  influences  of  life  and  joy  into 
 our  souls.  Dr.  Jackson. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Superficial. 
 
 The  knowledge  which  barely  passes 
 through  the  mind  resembles  that  which 
 is  gained  of  a  country  by  a  traveller  who 
 is  whirled  through  it  in  a  stage;  or  by 
 a  bird  flitting  over  it,  in  his  passage  to 
 another.  Dr.  Dwight. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Thorough. 
 
 What  you  do  know,  know  thoroughly. 
 There  are  few  instances,  in  modern  times, 
 of  a  rise  equal  to  that  of  Sir  Edward 
 Sugden.  After  one  of  the  Weymouth 
 elections,  I  was  shut  up  with  him  in  a 
 carriage  for  twenty-four  hours.  I  ven- 
 tured to  ask  him  what  was  the  secret 
 of  his  success.  His  answer  was,  "  I  re- 
 solved, when  beginning  to  read  law,  to 
 make  everything  I  acquired  perfectly  my 
 own,  and  never  to  go  to  a  second  thing 
 till  I  had  entirely  accomjilished  the  first. 
 Many  of  my  competitors  read  as  much  in 
 a  day  as  I  read  in  a  week  ;  but  at  the 
 end  of  twelve  months  my  knowledge  was 
 as  fresh  as  ou  the  day  it  was  acquired, 
 while  theirs  had  glided  away  from  their 
 recollection."  Sir  T.  F.  Buxton. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Use  of. 
 
 Knowledge  may  not  be  as  a  courtezan 
 for  pleasure  and  vanity  only ;  or  as  a  bolid- 
 woman,  to  acquire  and  gain  for  her  mas- 
 ter's use ;  but  as  a  spouse,  for  generation, 
 fruit,  and  comfort.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 Every  branch  of  knowledge  which  a  good 
 man  possesses  he  may  apply  to  some  good 
 purpose.  ~    —     - 
 
 C.  Buchanan. 
 
 It  is  not  a  couch  to  rest  a  searching  and 
 restless  spirit,  nor  a  terrace  for  a  wonder- 
 ing and  variable  miud  to  walk  up  and 
 down  upon ;  nor  a  tower  of  state  for  a 
 pi'oud  mind  to  raise  itself  upon;  nor  a 
 commanding  fort  for  strife  and  contention ; 
 nor  yet  a  shop  for  profit  and  sale ;  but  a 
 rich  storehouse  for  the  glory  of  the  Re- 
 deemer and  the  relief  of  man's  estate. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 
524 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— LABOUR. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— Vastness  of. 
 
 A  climbinp:  lieip;lit  it  is,  without  a  head, 
 
 Depth  witiiout  l)ottoin,  way  without  end; 
 
 A  circle  with  no  line  cnviron'd, 
 
 Not  comprelii'iuled, — idl  it  comprehends 
 
 Wort))  inlinite,  yet  satisfies  no  mind  ; 
 
 Till  it  that  inlinite  of  the  (Jodliead  find. 
 
 Greville. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  AND  IGNORANCE. 
 
 Knowledge  hnldi'th  by  tlie  hilt,  and  heweth 
 
 out  a  road  to  euncjuest ; 
 Ignorance    graspeth    the    blade,    and    is 
 
 wounded  by  its  own  good  sword  : 
 Knowledge    distilleth    health     from     the 
 
 virulence  of  opposite  poisons  ; 
 Ignorance    ndxeth    wholesomes    unto    the 
 
 breeding  of  disease: 
 Knowledge  is  leagurcd  with  the  universe, 
 
 and  iiudeUi  a  iriend  in  all  things; 
 But  ignorance  is  everywhere  a  stranger ; 
 
 unwelcome;    ill  at  ease  and  out   of 
 
 place.  TujJj^er. 
 
 The  man  of  knowledge  lives  eternally 
 after  his  (Icat.li,  while  his  mendjers  are  re- 
 «luced  to  dust  beneatii  the  tondj.  IJut  the 
 ignorant  man  is  dead,  even  while  he  wallvs 
 ii)ion  the  earth:  he  is  nund)ered  with 
 living  men,  and  yet  cxisteth  not.       Aiioii. 
 
 KNOV/LEDGE  IS  POWER. 
 
 It  is  so  for  good  or  evil,  according  to 
 the  use  wiruli  is  niiide  of  it.  Electricity 
 is  good  for  conveying  messitges,  &c. ;  but 
 it  is  evil  in  its  wild  ungoverned  state.  A 
 horse  is  good  for  bearing  burdens,  and 
 many  other  purposes  of  man,  guided  by 
 the  care  of  his  master ;  but  without  bit 
 :ind  bridle  he  I'recjuently  breaks  through 
 hedges  and  wanders  far  from  home  ;  not 
 ]iroperly  governed,  he  sometimes  throws 
 ins  rider,  or  runs  away  and  dashes  the 
 vehicle  in  jiieees.  When  the  ship  is  steei'ed 
 I'ight,  with  sullicieney  of  sail  and  wind, 
 she  will  keep  her  track  ;  but  if  steered 
 wrong,  the  more  sail  and  wind,  tlie  farther 
 will  she  go  from  her  course. 
 
 Juliii  Bate. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  AND  PRACTICE. 
 
 Knowledge  is  a  jewel  and  adorns  him 
 th:i,t  wears  it.  It  is  the  enriching  and 
 bespangling  of  the  nnnd.  Knowledge  is 
 the  eye  of  the  soul,  to  giude  it  in  the  right 
 way:  but  this  knowledge  must  be  joined 
 with  holy  practice.  Many  illuminated 
 heads  can  discourse  iluently  in  matters  of 
 religion,  but  they  do  not  live  up  to  their 
 knowledge  ;  this  is  to  have  good  eyes,  but 
 to  have  the  feet  cut  off.  How  vain  is 
 knowledge  without  practice!  as  if  one 
 should  know  a  sovereign  medicine  and  not 
 a])])ly  it.  Satan  is  a  knowing  spirit,  but 
 lie  hath  uo  holy  practice.  T.  Watsuii. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE  AND  REALISATION. 
 
 There  is  a  difference  between  knowing  a 
 thing  and  realising  it.  When  a  poor  man 
 becomes  suddenly  the  possessor  of  a  for- 
 tune or  of  dignity,  it  is  some  time  before 
 the  thing  becomes  so  natui-al  to  him  that 
 he  can  act  in  his  new  sphere  like  his  pro- 
 ])er  self — it  is  all  strangeness  at  first. 
 When  the  criminal  hears  the  death-sen- 
 tence in  the  dock,  his  cheeks  are  tearless; 
 he  hears  the  words,  but  scarcely  under- 
 stands that  they  have  anything  to  do  with 
 him.  He  has  not  realised  that  it  is  he 
 himself  that  has  to  die.  When  bereave- 
 ment comes,  it  is  not  at  the  moment  when 
 the  breath  leaves  the  body,  that  we  ieel 
 what  has  been  lost :  we  know,  but  we 
 must  have  it  in  detail;  see  the  empty  chair 
 — and  the  clothes  that  will  never  he  worn 
 again — and  perceive  day  after  day  pass — 
 and  he  conies  not.     Then  we  realise. 
 
 F.  W.  Rubcrtson. 
 KNOWLEDGE  AND  SIN. 
 
 Hell  fire  burns  with  rage,  and  meets 
 with  fuel  fully  j)repared  for  it,  when  Ood 
 dooms  unto  it  a  head  full  of  light  and  a 
 heart  full  of  lusts  ;  those  who  know  God's 
 will  but  do  it  not,  do  but  carry  a  torch 
 with  them  to  hell,  to  fire  that  pile  which 
 must  for  ever  burn  them.  Bp.  Ilupkitis. 
 KNOWLEDGE  AND  WISDOM. 
 Knowledge  and  wisdom,  far  from  being 
 one,  [dwells 
 
 Have  ofttimcs  no  connection.     Knowledge 
 In  heads  replete   with   thoughts  of  other 
 
 men, 
 Wisdom  in  minds  attentive  to  their  own ; 
 Knowledge,  a  rude  unjjrofttable  mass, 
 The  mere   materials  with  which   wisdom 
 
 builds,  [pl;u;e, 
 
 Till  smoothed  and  squared,  and  fitted  into 
 Does  but  encumber  what  it  seems  to  en- 
 rich, [mueh, 
 Knowledge  is  proud  that  he  has  learned  so 
 Wisdom  is  humble  that  he  knows  no  more. 
 Coioper. 
 
 L. 
 
 LABOUR— a  Blessing. 
 
 This  labour  and  sweat  of  our  brows  is  so 
 far  from  being  a  curse,  that  without  it  our 
 very  bi-ead  would  not  be  so  great  a  bless- 
 ing. Is  it  not  labour  that  makes  the 
 garlick  and  the  pulse,  the  sycamore  and 
 the  cresses,  the  cheese  of  the  goats,  and 
 the  butter  of  the  sheep,  to  be  savoury  and 
 ])leasant  as  the  llesh  of  the  roebuck,  or  the 
 milk  of  the  kine,  the  marrow  of  oxen,  or 
 the  thighs  of  birds  ?  If  it  were  not  for 
 labour,  men  neither  could  eat  so  much,  nor 
 relish  so  pleasantly,  nor  sleep  so  soundly, 
 nor  be  so  healthful,  nor  so  useful,  so  strong 
 nor  so  patient,  so  noble  nor  so  untemuted, 
 Bp.  Tajlor. 
 
LABOUR  AND  THOUGHT— LAW. 
 
 523 
 
 LABOUR  AND  THOUGHT. 
 
 It  is  only  by  labour  tbat  tbon<?bt  can  bo 
 made  healthy,  and  only  by  thouf^ht  that 
 labour  can  be  made  hai)])y  ;  and  the  two 
 cannot  be  separated  with  impunity. 
 
 liusMn. 
 LADY — Accomplished. 
 
 A  lady  acfomi)lishod  is  like  a  star  with 
 five  rays,  whicli  are  tlie  five  virtues — 
 Devotion,  Modesty,  Chastity,  Discretion, 
 and  Cliarity.  Devotion  i'orineth  the  inte- 
 rior, Modesty  makes  it  appear  in  the  ex- 
 terior with  a  requisite  comeliness  ;  Chas- 
 tity perfecteth  both  the  one  and  the  otlier ; 
 Discretion  ajiplioth  it  to  the  direction  of 
 otliers,  and  Cliarity  crowiieth  all  her 
 actions.  iV  Caussin. 
 
 LANGUAGE— English. 
 
 After  the  Norman  Conquest,  about  the 
 year  ]U6G,  tlie  vvhoh;  kingilom  of  England 
 vvas  divided  between  the  Normans,  who 
 were  tlie  lords  and  gentry,  and  tiie  Saxons, 
 who,  with  a  few  exceptions,  became  the 
 cultivators  of  the  soil.  These  two  faces 
 did  ni)t  even  enjoy  the  ordinary  means  of 
 communication  together,  for  the  Normans 
 spoke  French,  as  well  as  the  king  and 
 courtiers,  the  courts  of  law  used  the  same 
 language,  and  the  common  people  alone 
 used  or  understood  the  Saxon,  which  they 
 em])l()yed  in  their  own  aO'airs.  Tliis  sepa- 
 ration of  language  lasted  till  a  ImiKh-fd 
 years  after  the  Conquest,  when  the  English 
 language  began  to  be  used  by  all  the  iiilia- 
 bitants  of  the  kingdom.  The  gentlemen 
 were  in  general  acquainted  with  tlie 
 French  also;  but  every  Englishman  spoke 
 the  mixed  language  which  had  been  gra- 
 dually formed  lietween  the  Norman  French 
 and  the  Anglo-Saxon.  This  is  the  lan- 
 guage which  lias  finally  superseded  the 
 use  of  all  others  in  England — the  language 
 of  Newton  and  Bacon,  the  language  of 
 Milton  and  Shakespeare,  iu  whicli  wisdom 
 and  genius  have  achieved  so  much  to  in- 
 struct and  delight  mankind.  Amn. 
 
 It  has  been  calculated  that  out  of  100,000 
 words,  at  least  00,000  were  Teutonic, 
 30,000  Romaic;,  and  10,000  were  from  all 
 other  sources.  It  will  from  this  be  seen 
 what  a  great  preponderance  of  Anglo- 
 Saxon  there  is  in  English.  Ibid. 
 
 LANGUAGE— Redundancy  of. 
 
 llcdniulancy  of  liinguage  is  never  found 
 witii  deep  rellection.  Verbiage  may  indi- 
 cate observation,  but  not  thinking.  He 
 who  thinks  mucli,  says  but  little  in  pro- 
 portion to  his  thoughts.  He  selects  that 
 language  wliich  will  convey  his  ideas  in 
 tlie  most  expli(;it  and  distinct  manner.  He 
 tries  to  compress  as  much  thought  as 
 poasiblo  into  a  few  words.     Ou  the  con- 
 
 trary, the  man  who  talks  cverlnsfiiigly 
 and  promiscuously,  who  seems  to  have  iiu 
 exliaustless  magazine  of  sound,  crowds  so 
 many  words  into  his  thoughts  that  ho 
 always  obscures,  and  very  frequently  con- 
 ceals them.  Washington  Irving. 
 
 LAUGHTER— Power  of. 
 
 Laughter  is  essentially  a  social,  a  sym- 
 patlietic,  and  a  contagious  power.  Some 
 nations,  particularly  the  Orientals,  are  said 
 never  to  laugh  ;  but  all  European  nations 
 have  been  great  laughers,  and  the  ludi- 
 crous has  played  an  important  part,  even 
 in  their  very  history.  By  means  of  laugh- 
 ter absolute  monarchs  have  been  controlled 
 .ujion  their  tl  rones,  demagogues  have  been 
 checked  in  their  career,  and  even  Demos 
 himself  has  been  made  to  laugh  at  his  own 
 follies  till  he  was  almost  shamed  info  good 
 sense.  Lonl  Neaves, 
 
 LAW— Definition  of. 
 
 Law  is  a  rule  of  action,  and  in  its  most 
 extensive  sense  it  is  applicable  to  all 
 actions,  whether  of  matter  or  mind. 
 
 It.  Watson. 
 LAW— Freedom  of. 
 
 Laws  do  not  put  the  least  restraint 
 
 Upon  our  freedom,  but  maintain  't ; 
 
 Or,  if  it  does,  'tis  for  our  good, 
 
 To  give  us  freer  latitude ; 
 
 For  wholesome  laws  preserve  us  free, 
 
 By  stinting  of  our  liberty.  Huiler. 
 
 LAW— Power  of. 
 
 There  are  stronger  things  in  the  world 
 than  force.  There  are  powers  more  difii- 
 cult  to  overcome  than  strong  or  brazen 
 gates.  Sup))ose  we  found  a  prisoner  con- 
 demned to  die,  and  locked  up  in  his  cell, 
 and  we  were  to  ask  ourselves  how  he  could 
 be  saved  from  execution.  Tliere  would 
 appear  great  difliculty  iu  getting  him  out 
 of  prison.  That  iron  door,  with  its  great 
 bolt;  that  high  window  with  its  guard  of 
 strong  bars ;  those  thick  strong  walls ; 
 those  heavy  gates  outside ;  that  watchful 
 jailer ;  how  impossible  it  seems  to  over- 
 come them  all.  Yet  these  are  not  the  only 
 difficulties,  nor  the  greatest.  There  is 
 another  thing,  stronger  than  all  these,  hold- 
 ing the  poor  prisoner  to  death.  There  is 
 the  sentence  of  the  law.  For,  unless  he 
 would  himself  become  a  criminal,  no  man 
 dares  to  helj)  the  condemned  one  out.  (iet 
 the  sentence  repealed,  and  tlie  otlier  diffi- 
 culties are  removed.  I  will  take  you  in 
 thought  to  two  houses — one  is  your  own, 
 but  the  doors  and  windows  are  all  fast, 
 and  you  have  no  key  ;  it  will  lie  hard  to 
 get  ill.  Beside  it  is  anotlier  belonging  to 
 your  neighbour — a  house  you  know  you 
 have  no  right  to  enter,  and  have  been 
 forbidden  to  approach— the  door  is  open, 
 
526 
 
 LA"W  OP  GOD. 
 
 and  notliitig  withstands  your  entrance  that 
 you  can  see.  Yet  it  will  be  harder  to  go 
 in  there  than  into  your  own  house,  for  it 
 would  make  you  a  trespasser  on  rights. 
 An  armed  fortress  belonging  to  an  enemy 
 might  be  destroyed  by  force,  if  a  general 
 were  sent  to  capture  itj  but  without  a 
 warrant  would  that  general  go  into  the 
 palace  of  the  king  ?  When  Eve  stood  be- 
 side the  tree  of  knowledge  of  Good  and 
 Evil,  there  was  no  fence  around  it,  keep- 
 ing her  steps  aloof;  no  shield  to  prevent 
 her  hand  touching  the  fruit ;  yet  there  was 
 a  guard  more  powerful  than  walls  to  keep 
 her  from  plucking  it,  till  she  resolved  to 
 sin.  The  words, — Thou  shalt  not  eat  of 
 it, — so  long  as  her  heart  was  right  with 
 God,  were  like  a  rampart  of  fire  around 
 that  forbidden  tree.  If  a  father  has  said 
 to  a  dutiful  child,  There  is  an  object  you 
 must  not  handle,  it  is  more  truly  out  of 
 the  child's  reach  than  if  he  had  merely 
 placed  it  high  up  where  the  little  hand 
 could  not  get  hold  of  it.  Dr.  Eclmond. 
 
 LAW  OF  GOD— Departure  from  the. 
 
 Kotliing  can  live  in  a  state  in  which 
 God  did  not  intend  it  to  live.  Suppose  a 
 tree  could  move  itself  about  like  an  animal, 
 and  chose  to  do  so,  the  tree  would  wither 
 and  die ;  it  would  be  trying  to  act  contrary 
 to  the  law  which  God  has  given  it.  Sup- 
 pose the  ox  chose  to  eat  meat  like  the  lion, 
 it  would  fall  sick  and  die ;  for  it  would  be 
 acting  conti-ary  to  the  law  which  God's 
 Spirit  had  made  for  it — going  out  of  the 
 calling  to  which  God's  Word  has  called  it, 
 to  eat  grass  and  not  flesh,  and  live  thereby. 
 And  so  with  us ;  if  we  will  do  wickedly, 
 when  the  will  of  God,  as  the  Scripture 
 tells  us,  is  our  sanctification,  our  holiness ; 
 if  we  will  speak  lies,  when  God's  law  for 
 us  is  that  we  should  speak  truth;  if  we 
 will  bear  hatred  and  ill-will,  when  God's 
 law  for  us  is,  Love  as  brothers ;  if  we  will 
 try  to  live  as  if  there  was  no  God,  when 
 God's  law  for  us  is,  that  a  man  can  live 
 like  a  man  only  by  faith  and  trust  in  God  ; 
 then  we  shall  die,  if  we  break  God's  laws 
 according  to  which  He  intended  man  to 
 live.  C.  Kincjsley. 
 
 lik^l  OP  GOD— Curse  of  the. 
 
 The  curse  of  the  law  was  a  weight  sufB- 
 cient  to  crush  a  world.  They  who  first 
 brought  it  on  themselves  found  it  so ;  it 
 sunk  legions  of  angels  who  excel  in 
 strength,  when  they  had  abused  that 
 strength  against  the  law,  from  the  heaven 
 of  heavens,  to  the  bottomless  pit.  The 
 same  weight  that  had  crushed  rebel  angels, 
 threatened  man  for  joining  with  them. 
 Before  man  could  bear  it;  before  any 
 person  could  have  his  own  proportion  of 
 it ;  it  behoved,  as  it  were,  to  be  divided 
 into  numberless  parcels.     Man,  after  num- 
 
 berless ages,  would  have  borne  but  a  small 
 part  of  it;  the  wrnih  to  come  yio\}i!A  have 
 been  always  wrath  to  come,  to  all  eternity; 
 there  would  have  been  still  infinitely  more 
 to  bear.  Christ  only  had  strength  to  bear 
 it  all ;  to  bear  it  all,  in  a  manner  at  once  ; 
 to  bear  it  all,  alone.  None  of  the  people 
 were  with  Him ;  our  burden  and  our  help 
 was  laid  on  One  who  was  mighty  :  and  His 
 bearing  it  was  a  glorious  manifestation  of 
 His  might ;  of  the  noblest  kind  of  might, 
 that  He  was  migJity  to  save. 
 
 J.  3Iaclaurin. 
 
 LAW  OP  GOD— Guardianship  of  the. 
 
 A  traveller  relates  that,  when  passing 
 through  an  Austrian  town,  his  attention 
 was  directed  to  a  forest  on  a  slope  near  the 
 road,  and  he  was  told  that  death  was  the 
 penalty  of  cutting  down  one  of  those  trees. 
 He  was  incredulous  until  he  was  further 
 informed  that  they  were  the  protection  or" 
 the  city,  breaking  the  force  of  the  descend- 
 ing avalanche,  which,  without  this  natural 
 barrier,  would  sweep  over  the  quiet  home 
 of  thousands.  When  a  Russian  army  was 
 marching  there,  and  began  to  cut  away 
 the  defence  for  fuel,  the  inhabitants  be- 
 sought them  to  take  their  dwellings  in- 
 stead, which  was  done. 
 
 Such,  he  thought,  are  the  sanctions  of 
 God's  moral  law.  On  the  integrity  and 
 support  of  that  law  depends  the  safety  of 
 the  universe.  "  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it 
 shall  die,"  is  a  merciful  proclamation.  "  He 
 that  offends  in  one  point  is  guilty  of  all," 
 is  equally  just  and  benevolent.  In  this 
 view,  to  every  sinner  out  of  Christ,  God 
 must  be  a  "  consuming  fire."  To  trans- 
 gress once  is  to  lay  the  axe  at  the  root  of 
 the  tree  which  represents  the  security  and 
 peace  of  every  loyal  soul  in  the  wide 
 dominions  of  the  Almighty. 
 
 How  inexorable  is  Law  !  How  wonder- 
 ful and  glorious  the  interposition  of  the 
 Crois.  Cameron. 
 
 LAW  0?  GOD— Love  in  the. 
 
 There  is  the  same  love  in  the  law  as  in 
 the  Gospel,  the  ditlereuce  is  only  in  ex- 
 pression ;  as  when  I  warn  one  against  ven- 
 turing into  the  ronring  flood,  and  when, 
 on  his  leaping  madly  in,  I  follow  to  save 
 him.  In  the  law  love  warns,  in  the  cross 
 it  redeems.  Both  are,  as  I  undertake  to 
 show,  the  true  mirror  of  Him  who  thus 
 defines  His  own  character,  "  God  is  love," 
 "  Fury  is  not  in  Me."  Br.  Guthrie, 
 
 There  is  the  same  love  in  the  law  that 
 there  is  in  the  Gospel,  and  between  them 
 a  harmony  as  perfect  as  the  music  of  that 
 heaven  where  the  harps  are  gold,  and  the 
 strings  are  touched  by  angel's  fingers. 
 The  "hand,  indeed,  that  wrote  these  Com- 
 I  mauduieiits  is  the  same  that  was  nailed  to 
 
lAVr  OF  GOD— lAW  AND  GOSPEL. 
 
 527 
 
 the  cross  ;  and  amid  Sinai's  loudest  thun- 
 ders, Faitli  recognises,  though  it  spealis  in 
 other  tones,  the  voice  which  prayed  for 
 mercy  on  murderers,  and  promised  paradise 
 to  a  dying  thief.  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 -LtCN  OP  GOD— Eestraints  of  the. 
 
 No  doubt  the  law  restrains  us ;  hut  all 
 chains  are  not  fetters,  nor  are  all  walls  the 
 gloomy  precincts  of  a  jail.  It  is  a  blessed 
 chain  by  which  the  ship,  now  buried  in  the 
 trough,  and  now  rising  on  the  top  of  the 
 sea,  rides  at  anchor,  and  outlives  the  storm. 
 The  condemned  would  give  worlds  to  break 
 his  clialn,  but  the  sailor  trembles  lest  his 
 should  snap ;  and  when  the  gray  morning 
 breaks  on  the  wild  lee-shore,  all  strewn 
 with  wrecks  and  corpses,  he  blesses  God 
 for  the  good  iron  that  stood  the  strain. 
 The  pale  captive  eyes  his  high  prison  walls 
 to  curse  the  man  that  built  it,  and  envy 
 the  little  bird  that,  perched  upon  its 
 summit,  sings  merrily,  and  flies  away 
 on  wings  of  freedom ;  but  were  you  travel- 
 ling some  Alpine  pass,  where  the  narrow 
 road,  cut  out  of  the  face  of  the  rock,  hung 
 over  a  frightful  gorge,  it  is  with  other 
 eyes  you  would  look  on  the  wall  that 
 restrains  your  restive  steed  from  backing 
 into  the  gulf  below.  Such  are  the  restraints 
 God's  law  imposes — no  other.  It  is  a  fence 
 from  evil — nothing  else.  I  challenge  the 
 ■world  to  put  its  finger  on  any  one  of  these 
 Ton  Counnandments,  which  is  not  meant 
 and  calculated  to  keep  us  from  harming 
 ourselves  or  hm-ting  others. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 LAW  or  GOD— and  the  Sinner. 
 
 The  law  is  the  accuser,  marshal,  jailor, 
 and  recorder  of  every  sinner.  It  is  his 
 accuser,  "  the  adversary  who  delivers  us  to 
 the  officer,"  and  makes  out  the  charge 
 against  us.  It  is  the  marshal.  It  at- 
 taches him  of  high  treason  against  the 
 Majesty  of  Heaven,  and  arrests  him  in  the 
 name  of  God.  It  is  \\\^  jailor.  It  shuts 
 him  up  under  sin  (under  the  charge  and 
 in  the  consciousness  of  guilt)  ;  it  locks  him 
 up,  and  turns  the  key,  and  draws  the  bolts 
 on  iiim.  It  records  the  sentence  of  death 
 against  him,  for  there  is  "  death  recorded  " 
 against  every  soul  of  man. 
 
 Champneys. 
 
 LAW  OF  GOD— One  Transgression  of  the. 
 (James  ii,  10.)  Suppose  a  boat  on  the 
 Ganges,  full  of  people  ;  the  day  is  dismal — 
 the  wind  roars — the  thunder  peals — the 
 waters  are  swollen — and  the  current  rapid ; 
 no  boat  can  live  long  in  such  a  storm. 
 But  see,  there  is  a  boat  full  of  people. 
 You  hear  their  shrieks  between  the  thun- 
 der-peals. They  fear  the  rocks  before 
 them  J  how  can  they  be  saved?  Oh,  if 
 they  could  but  he  drawn  into  this  narrow 
 
 creek,  they  would  be  safe.  Now,  suppose 
 the  people' on  shore  throw  out  to  them  a 
 chain ;  they  catch  it,  and  already  rejoice 
 in  the  prospect  of  deliverance,  when,  alas  ! 
 suddenly,  as  both  they  and  the  people  on 
 shore  begin  to  pull,  one  link  of  the  chain 
 breaks— not  ten  links,  but  one — what  can 
 they  do  ?  "  Overboard  with  the  chain,  or 
 it  will  sink  them  sooner,"  cries  one  man 
 from  the  boat.  What  shall  they  do,  then  ? 
 "  Cast  themselves  on  the  mercy  of  God," 
 says  another.  Yes,  and  so  sny  I  to  the 
 sinner  j  for  if  one  commandment  be  broken 
 — one  link  of  the  chain — all  is  broken. 
 
 Leujpolt. 
 
 One  wheel  broken  in  the  machinery  will 
 render  the  whole  inefficient ;  one  breakage 
 of  a  stave  in  the  ladder  may  make  it  unlit 
 for  safe  and  full  use ;  one  piece  of  rail  dis- 
 placed on  the  railway  may  result  in  fearful 
 disaster;  one  inch  of  wire  cut  out  of  the 
 telegraph  would  prevent  the  use  of  all  the 
 rest,  whatever  its  extent;  one  failure  in 
 any  law  of  nature  may  go  on  producing 
 other  failures  ad  infinitum.  So  the  trans- 
 gression of  but  one  law  of  God ;  it  is  ruin- 
 ous to  the  soul ;  it  leads  on  to  innumerable 
 transgressions ;  it  violates  the  whole  code. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 -LkU  AND  GOSPEL. 
 
 In  the  husbandry  of  the  farm,  the  drill, 
 and  not  the  plough,  gives  the  crop.  If 
 the  land  were  left  as  the  plough  leaves  it, 
 there  would  be  no  crop,  but  of  thistles  and 
 weeds.  The  plough  destroys  every  living 
 thing,  tearing  all  up  root  and  branch,  and 
 burying  all  under  the  ground ;  while  the 
 drill  plants  the  seed,  and,  under  the  blessing 
 of  God,  ensures  a  golden  harvest  and  a  full 
 garner.  The  farmer  might  plough  his 
 ground  ten  times,  or  a  hundred  times  over, 
 and  yet  never  have  a  harvest  if  that  were 
 all  he  should  do.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
 no  antagonism  between  the  plough  and 
 the  drill.  It  takes  both  to  make  the  land 
 yield  to  the  diligent  hand  its  reward.  In 
 the  husbandry  of  the  kingdom  the  law  is 
 the  plough,  and  the  Gospel  is  the  drill. 
 And  the  deeper  the  plough  is  put  in,  the 
 better  the  crop,  provided  only  that  the 
 drill  follows  in  due  time,  casting  in  seed  in 
 abundance.  W.  U.  Boardman. 
 
 You  never  saw  a  woman  sewing  without 
 a  needle.  She  would  come  but  poor  speed 
 if  she  only  sewed  wi'  the  thread.  So,  I 
 think,  when  we're  dealing  with  sinners, 
 we  maun  aye  put  in  the  needle  of  the  law 
 first;  for  the  fact  is,  they  are  sleepin* 
 sound,  and  they  need  to  be  awakened  up 
 wi'  something  sharp.  But  when  we've 
 got  the  needle  o'  the  law  fairly  in.  we  may 
 draw  as  lang  a  thread  as  you  like  o'  Gos- 
 pel consolation  after  it.  Floclchart. 
 
523 
 
 LAW  AND  GOSPEL— LIARS. 
 
 LAW  AND  GOSPEL. 
 
 God  hath  written  a  law  and  a  Gospel : 
 the  law  to  humble  us,  and  the  Gospel  to 
 comfort  us;  the  law  to  cast  us  down,  and 
 the  Gospel  to  raise  us  up ;  the  law  to  con- 
 vince us  of  our  misery,  and  the  Gospel  to 
 convince  us  of  His  mercy ;  the  law  to  dis- 
 cover sin,  and  the  Gospel  to  discover  grace 
 and  Christ.  J.  Mason. 
 
 LAWS— Dead. 
 
 We  have  strict  statutes  and  most  biting 
 
 laws 
 (The  needful  bits  and  curbs  of  headstrong 
 
 steeds). 
 Which  for  these  fourteen  years  we  have 
 
 let  sleep. 
 Even  like  an  o'ergrown  lion  in  a  cave, 
 That  goes  not  out  to  prey :  Now,  as  fond 
 
 fathers. 
 Having  bound  up  the  threat'ning  twigs  of 
 
 birch, 
 Only  to  stick  it  in  their  children's  sight, 
 For  terror,  not  to  use ;  in  time  the  rod 
 Eecomes   more  mocked   than   feared:    so 
 
 our  decrees. 
 Dead  to  infliction,  to  themselves  are  dead  ; 
 And  liberty  plucks  justice  by  the  nose; 
 The    baby    beats    the    nurse,   and    quite 
 
 athwart 
 Goes  all  decorum.  Slialcespeare. 
 
 LAWYERS— Ways  of. 
 
 Lawyers  first  invented  laws  to  secure 
 our  lands  and  titles ;  now  they  make  those 
 laws  engines  to  get  away  our  lands  and 
 titles.  Tlieir  frequent  session  hath  not 
 been  ever  more  to  preserve  a  man's  pos- 
 session. And  for  those  that  can  tarry  the 
 leisure  of  the  law,  they  have  quirks  and 
 delays,  which  are  like  the  corrosive  plasters 
 of  an  unconscionable  leech,  that  turns  a 
 small  green  wound  to  an  incurable  fistula, 
 by  poisoning  and  exulceration  of  it  for 
 filthy  lucre.  When  a  man  must  die  with- 
 out mercy,  it  is  some  ease  to  die  quickly, 
 and  be  out  of  his  pain.  But  such,  when 
 they  purpose  to  murder  a  man's  estate, 
 have  tri(;ks  to  keep  him  long  a-dylug; 
 tliat  he  may  still  languish  and  pine  away 
 in  hope  of  recovery.  T.  Adams. 
 
 LAWYERS  AND  DIVINES. 
 
 Lawyers  generally  know  too  much  of 
 law  to  have  a  very  clear  perception  of 
 justice,  just  as  divines  are  often  too  deeply 
 read  in  theology  to  appreciate  the  full 
 grandeur  and  the  proper  tendencies  of 
 religion.  Losing  the  abstract  in  the  con- 
 crete, the  comprehenive  in  the  technical, 
 the  principal  in  its  accessories,  both  are  in 
 the  predicament  of  the  rustic  who  could 
 not  see  London  for  the  houses.  Anon. 
 
 LEARNING— without  Religion. 
 
 Men   do  pretend   to  learning  in   vain, 
 
 while  they  are  ignorant  of  mortification  of 
 their  members  which  are  upon  the  earth, 
 and  of  a  spiritual  life,  which  is  every  man's 
 greatest  interest.  The  painter  doth  but 
 draw  the  picture  of  his  own  ruin,  who  is 
 not  wise  for  eternity,  or  doth  not  represent 
 to  Ins  mind  the  image  of  that  glory  which 
 shall  ere  long  be  revealed  in  holy  men,  so 
 as  to  lead  a  life  which  may  be  a  preparative 
 to  it.  The  disputant  is  no  better  than  a 
 heretic  in  manners,  who  doth  not  reason 
 himself  out  of  the  snares  of  sin,  and  show 
 forth  out  of  a  good  conversation  his  works 
 with  meekness.  The  logician,  who  resolves 
 all  knotty  arguments,  is  but  a  fool  while 
 he  knows  not  how  to  keep  himself  from 
 the  wiles  of  the  devil.  The  gramynarian, 
 who  rectifies  the  errors  of  speech,  is  but  a 
 madman  while  he  takes  no  care  to  rectify 
 the  errors  of  his  life.  The  astronomer, 
 who  tells  the  stars,  and  calls  them  by  their 
 names,  is  vain  in  his  imaginations,  while 
 he  hath  not  his  conversation  in  heaven. 
 The  metaphysician,  that  speculates  things 
 above  sense  and  nature,  is  but  a  very  in- 
 discreet person,  while  he  takes  no  heed  to 
 make  God  his  highest  comfort  and  delight. 
 All  optics  are  nonsense  which  do  not  teach 
 men  to  behold  the  mighty  God  that  made 
 them ;  and  all  geometry  but  confusion, 
 which  leaves  men  ignorant  of  the  height 
 aud  depth  of  the  love  of  God. 
 
 Anthony  Sornedc. 
 
 Who  hath  not  faith  and  virtue,  satisfy- 
 ing himself  with  learning  and  sciences, 
 resembleth  those  Indian  trees  which  bear 
 musky  pears,  whose  smell  is  very  odor- 
 iferous, and  taste  pleasing,  but  yield  a 
 pestilent  juice,  which  they  use  to  envenom 
 arrows.  N.  Caiissin. 
 
 LEARNING— Way  to. 
 
 When  Giardini  was  asked  how  long  it 
 would  take  to  play  on  the  violin,  he  replied, 
 "Twelve  hours  a  day  for  twenty  years 
 together."  The  author  of  Telemachus  was 
 right,  when  he  sought  to  impress  upon  his 
 pupil  that  there  was  no  royal  road  to  learn- 
 ing, and  that  even  the  grace  of  God  would 
 not  make  a  man  a  scholar.  A  man  may  be 
 "  superficially  omniscient,"  as  Chas.  Lamb 
 expressed  it,  without  much  hard  ettbrt; 
 l)ut  there  is  but  one  pathway  to  thorough 
 knowledge — "  the  republican  one  of  labour 
 and  toil."  Anon. 
 
 LI ARS —Punishment  of. 
 
 When  Aristotle,  who  was  a  Grecian 
 pliilosopher,  and  the  tutor  of  Alexander 
 the  Great,  was  once  asked  what  a  man 
 could  gain  by  uttering  falsehoods,  he  re- 
 plied, "  Not  to  be  credited  when  he  shall 
 tell  the  truth."  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
 related  that  when  Petrarch,  an  Italian 
 poet,  a  man  of  strict  integrity,  was  sura- 
 
LIE— LIBESTY. 
 
 629 
 
 moned  as  a  witness,  and  offered  in  the 
 n^iual  manner  to  take  an  oath  LeFore  a 
 court  of  justice,  the  judge  closed  the  book, 
 sayinof,  "  As  to  you,  P.-trarch,  your  word 
 is  sufficient."  From  the  story  of  Petrarch 
 we  may  learn  how  great  respect  is  paid  to 
 those  whose  character  for  truth  is  estab- 
 lished; and  from  the  reply  of  Aristotle 
 the  folly  as  well  as  wickedness  of  lying. 
 In  the  country  of  Sinm,  a  kingdom  of  Asia, 
 he  who  tells  a  lie  is  punished,  according  to 
 law,  by  having  his  mouth  sewed  up.  This 
 may  appear  dreadful ;  but  no  severity  is 
 too  great  against  one  who  commits  so 
 great  a  sin.  We  read  likewise  that  God 
 Almighty  struck  Ananias  and  Sapphira 
 dead  for  not  speaking,  the  truth.  Read 
 Acts  V.  Anon. 
 
 LIE— Great. 
 
 A  great  lie  is  like  a  great  fish  on  dry 
 land;  it  may  fret  and  fiing,  and  make  a 
 frightful  bother,  but  it  cannot  hurt  you. 
 You  have  only  to  keep  still  and  it  will  die 
 of  itself.  Crahhe. 
 
 LIBERALITY— Definition  of. 
 
 Liberality  is  bounty ;  a  generous  dispo- 
 sition of  mind,  exerting  itself  in  giving 
 largely.  C.  Buck. 
 
 LIBERALITY- Examples  of. 
 
 Lord  Chief  Justice  Hale,  Hammond, 
 Doddridge,  Baxter,  and  others,  regularly 
 gave  a  tenth  of  their  income;  Dr.  Watts  a 
 fifth;  Mrs.  Rowe  one  half;  Mr.  Wesley 
 all  above  actual  necessities.  The  Countess 
 of  Huntingdon,  though  quite  wealthy,  regu- 
 larly gave  all  she  could  save  by  a  retired 
 and  economical  life. 
 
 Mr.  Nathan  R.  Cobb,  a  pious  Baptist 
 merchant,  of  Boston,  in  1821,  at  the  age  of 
 twenty-three,  entered  into  the  following 
 covenant,  to  which  he  adhered  till  death. 
 When  leaving  this  world,  he  praised  God 
 that, 'by  following  it,  he  had  bestowed  over 
 £8,000. 
 
 "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  will  never  be 
 WDrth  more  than  £10,000.  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  £4,000, 
 I  will  give  one  half  of  my  net  profits ;  and 
 if  ever  I  am  worth  £6,000,  I  will  give 
 three  fourths  ;  and  the  whole  after  £10,000. 
 So  help  me  God,  or  give  to  a  more  faithful 
 steward,  and  set  me  aside." 
 
 The  benevolence  of  Louisa  Osborn,  the 
 coloured  domestic  who,  from  the  wages  of 
 4*.  2d.  a  week,  paid  £4  a  year  to  educate 
 a  youth  in  Ceylon,  as  it  has  been  brought 
 to  light  by  the  missionary  who  witnessed 
 the  unusual  benefits  of  her  donations  to 
 the  mission,  has  thrilled  the  hearts  of 
 American  Christians. 
 
 Norm^nd  Smith,  a  saddler  of  Hartford, 
 
 Connecticut,  after  practising  for  years  an 
 elevated  system  of  benevolence,  bei^ueathed 
 in  charity  £6,000. 
 
 An  anonymous  writer  says  of  himself, 
 that  he  commenced  business  and  ]irosecutcd 
 it  in  the  usual  way,  till  he  lost  £180,  which 
 was  all  he  was  worth,  and  found  himself 
 in  debt  £220.  Being  led  by  his  trials, 
 through  God's  grace,  to  "trust,  as  he  hoped, 
 in  Christ,  he,  at  the  advanced  age  of  forty, 
 determined  to  take  God's  Word  for  his 
 guide  in  his  business,  and  consecrated  his 
 earnings  to  the  Lord.  The  first  year  he 
 gave  £2  10^.,  for  eighteen  years  the  amount 
 has  increased  by  about  25  per  cent.,  and 
 the  last  year  he  gave  £670;  and  he  says 
 he  did  it  easier  than  during  the  first  year 
 he  paid  the  £2  10s.  Besides,  though  witli 
 nothing  but  his  hands  to  depend  upon 
 when  he  began  this  course,  he  paid  the 
 whole  debt  of  £220,  with  interest,  thouo-h 
 it  took  him  nine  years  to  do  it.  Piatt. 
 
 LIBERALITY,  BOUNTY,  GENEROSITY. 
 
 Liberality  is  thus  distinguished  from 
 generosity  and  bounty  : — Liberality  im- 
 plies acts  of  mere  giving  or  spending; 
 generosity  acts  of  greatness ;  bounty,  acts 
 of  kindness.  Liberality  is  a  natural  dispo- 
 sition ;  generosity  proceeds  from  elevation 
 of  sentiment;  bounty  from  religious  mo- 
 tives. Liberality  denotes  freedom  of  spirit ; 
 generosity  greatness  of  soul,  bounty,  open- 
 ness of  heart.  C.  Buck. 
 
 LIBERTY— Christian. 
 
 Jesus  Christ  not  only  called  Lazarus 
 into  life,  but  He  commanded  the  grave- 
 clothes  to  be  taken  off  him,  that  he  might 
 have  liberty  in  life.  Life,  without  liberty 
 from  the  grave-clothes,  would  scarcely  have 
 been  a  blessing.  So  Jesus  Christ  not  only 
 gives  life  to  the  soul  which  believes  in 
 Him;  He  also  commands  the  Spirit  to  de- 
 scend upon  him,  to  set  him  free  from  all 
 enslaving  habits.  "  If  the  Son  make  you 
 free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed."     John  Bate. 
 
 LIBERTY— Definition  of. 
 
 Liberty  denotes  a  state  of  freedom,  in 
 contradistinction  to  slavery  or  restraint. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 LIBERTY— Desire  for. 
 
 What  is  so  beneficial  to  the  people  as 
 liberty,  which  we  see  not  only  to  be  greed- 
 ily sought  after  by  men,  but  also  by  beasts, 
 and  to  be  preferred  to  all  things.       Cicero. 
 
 LIBERTY— False. 
 
 The  theme  of  every  factious  demagogue, 
 the  watchword,  we  might  say,  of  every 
 traitor,  liberty  becomes  a  name  which  the 
 honest  and  well-disposed  almost  tremble 
 to  hear;  interpreting  it  as  meaning  free- 
 dom to  do- wrong.  The  gettins  rid  of 
 34 
 
530 
 
 LIBERTY. 
 
 every  wholesome  restraint,  emancipation 
 from  all  control,  .the  being  left  to  pursue 
 our  own  ends  by  our  own  means;  these 
 seem  in  accordance  with  what  is  popularly 
 called  liberty,  as  though  lawlessness  were 
 freedom,  and  submission  to  good  govern- 
 ment slavery.  Indeed,  it  might  weary 
 one  of  the  very  mention  of  liberty,  to  ob- 
 serve how  it  is  braVled  for  and  boasted  of 
 by  those  who  are  in  the  worst  of  all 
 bondage,  and  how  so  sacred  and  blessed  a 
 word  is  profaned  and  prostituted  by  those 
 who  wish  nothing  but  anarchy  and  con- 
 fusion. The  slave  of  his  every  passion  will 
 proclaim  himself  the  worshipper  of  liberty  ; 
 the  man  who  would  sweep  away  religion 
 from  a  state  makes  his  boast  of  seeking 
 its  freedom.  Experience  might  well  ma^e 
 the  world  suspicious  of  such  as  declaim 
 most  about  .liberty ;  for  those  who  profess 
 to  emancipate  it,  generally  enslave.  If 
 they  have  broken  some  chains,  they  have 
 fastened  on  heavier.  The  true  Christian, 
 he  whom  the  Son  makes  free,  is  the  only 
 freeman;  every-other  is  untler  the  worst 
 of  all  tyrants— himself.  E.  Mehill. 
 
 LTBEETY— Glories  of. 
 
 Oh,  Liberty !  Liberty !  who  would  not  die. 
 In  thy  records  to  live  eternally  ? 
 Oh,  Liberty !  Liberty !  thine  is  the  wreath 
 That  flames  o'er  the  scene  of  a  warrior's 
 
 death ; 
 Hallows  the  sod  of  the  soldier's  grave. 
 And  plays  o'er  the  land  of  the  good  and 
 
 the  brave. 
 Though  the  mighty  come  forth  in  their 
 pride. 
 
 And  nations  be  swept  from  the  land. 
 For   ever  the   names  of  thy  patriot 
 band 
 In  the  volume  of  fame  shall  abide. 
 Like  Sicily's  mountain  whose  tires  never  die, 
 
 Thy  presence  on  earth  is  confest; 
 A  beacon  of  wrath  when  it  flames  on  high. 
 
 And  a  mighty  fear  when  at  rest. 
 Like  thee  it  awakes  from  its  terrible  sleep, 
 And  o'er  the  dark  rock  and  green  valley 
 C.  Edwards. 
 
 LIBERTY— Love  of. 
 
 John  Milton,  the  chief  of  poets,  held 
 the  post  of  Latin  Secretary  under  Crom- 
 well. At  the  restoration  he  was  of  course 
 dismissed  from  his  office.  He  was  now 
 poor  and  blind,  and  to  these  afflictions 
 Charles  II  added  political  persecutions; 
 he  fined  him,  and  doomed  his  writings  on 
 liberty  to  be  publicly  burned.  2^'othing 
 daunted  by  these  tierce  and  multiplied 
 t4-ials,  the  great  poet  retired  into  private 
 life,  evoked  his  mighty  genius,  and  pro- 
 duced "Paradise  Lost!"  But  after  he 
 had  endured  the  ills  of  poverty  several 
 years,  Charles,  feeling  the  need  of  his 
 matchless  taients.  invited  him  to  resume 
 
 liis  former  post,  with  all  its  honours,  emo- 
 luments, and  court  favours.  But  Milton 
 knew  that  the  price  of  this  honour  must 
 be  silence  on  the  great  question  of  human 
 liberty.  Tlierefore  he  did  not  hesitate  a 
 moment.  It  was  a  strong  temptation — 
 the  bribe  was  splendid.  By  merely  keeping 
 silence,  he  could  have  honour,  abundance, 
 and  high  position,  in  exchange  for  poverty, 
 persecution,  and  neglect !  But  this  could 
 not  be.  The  poet  loved  truth  too  well. 
 His  soul  was  too  noble,  too  sincere,  too 
 firm  in  its  allegiance  to  God  and  liberty, 
 to  barter  away  its  right  to  condemn  ty- 
 ranny for  place  or  gold.  Hence  he  spurned 
 the  royal  ofter,  and  clung  to  his  principles 
 and  his  poverty,  until  death  called  his  free 
 soul  to  enter  its  congenial  heaven.  And 
 so  gentle  was  the  summons,  so  sweetly 
 calm  was  his  unruffled  spirit  to  the  hour 
 of  dissolution,  that  his  friends  knew  not 
 the  precise  moment  of  his  death. 
 
 LIBERTY— the  Lustre  of  Life.     ^^ '  '^""'^''*' 
 'Tis  liberty  alone  that  gives  the  flowers 
 Of  fleeting  life  their  lustre  and  perfume, 
 And  we  are  weeds  without  it.  Cowjjer. 
 
 LIBERTY— a  gift  of  Nature. 
 
 Liberty,  that  best  gift,  dealt  out  by  the 
 impartial  hand  of  natiire,  even  to  the  brute 
 creation.  Tacitus. 
 
 LIBERTY— Pleasures  of. 
 Oh,  Liberty !  thou  goddess  heavenly  bright ! 
 Profuse  of  bliss,  and  pregnant  with  delight ! 
 Eternal  pleasures  in  thy  presence  reign. 
 And  smiling  Plenty  leads  thy  wanton  train. 
 Addison. 
 LIBERTY— Spiritual 
 
 Spiritual  liberty  consists  in  freedom  from 
 the  curse  of  the  moral  law ;  from  the  servi- 
 tude of  the  ritual;  from  the  love,  power, 
 and  guilt  of  sin;  from  the  dominion  of 
 Satan ;  from  the  corruption  of  the  world ; 
 from  the  fear  of  death  and  the  wrath  to 
 come.  C  Buck. 
 
 If  the  truth  hath  made  you  free,  you  are 
 free  indeed.  In  the  arms  of  Jesus  you 
 are  safe  for  ever.  No  language,  no  em- 
 blems, can  be  found  to  convey  any  adequate 
 idea  of  the  blessedness  of  such  a  deliver- 
 ance. Not  the  poor  timid  struggling  bird 
 springs  forth  from  the  snare  with  a  note 
 of  more  thrilling  joyfulness — not  the  de- 
 spairing heart-sick  captive  casts  the  first 
 look  of  freedom  on  the  bright  heaven,  or 
 treads  with  bounding  steps  the  greensward 
 of  home  with  a  more  exulting  throb  of 
 happiness  than  you.  And  never  was  that 
 ancient  song  of  deliverance  sung  with  a 
 deeper  meaning  than  your  lips  may  lend 
 to  it :  "  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out 
 of  the  snare  of  the  fowler;  the  snare  is 
 broken,  and  we  are  escaped."      Dr.  Caird. 
 
LIBERTY— LIFE. 
 
 531 
 
 LIBERTY— True. 
 
 Who,  then,  is  free?  the  wise  who  well 
 maintains 
 
 An  empire  o'er  himself;  whom  neither 
 chains. 
 
 Nor  want,  nor  death  with  slavish  fear  in- 
 spire ; 
 
 Who  boldly  answers  to  his  warm  desire ; 
 
 Who  can  ambition's  vainest  gifts  despise; 
 
 Firm  in  himself  who  on  himself  relies; 
 
 Polished  and  round,  who  runs  his  proper 
 course, 
 
 And  breaks  misfortune  with  superior  force ! 
 Horace. 
 
 LIBERTY— Virtuous. 
 
 A  day,  an  hour,  of  virtuous  liberty, 
 Is  worth  a  whole  eternity  of  bond<ige. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 LIBERTY  OF  CONSCIENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Liberty  of  conscience  is  the  free  right  of 
 adopting  and  enjoying  opinions  on  re- 
 ligious subjects,  and  of  being  allowed  to 
 worship  the  Supreme  Being  according  to 
 the  dictates  of  conscience,  unfettered  by 
 external  control.  Maunder. 
 
 LIBERTY  AND  RESTRAINT. 
 
 You  hear  every  day  greater  numbers  of 
 foolish  people  speaking  about  liberty,  as  if 
 it  were  such  an  honorable  thing;  so  ftr 
 from  being  that,  it  is,  on  the  whole,  and  in 
 the  broadest  sense,  dishonorable,  and  an 
 attribute  of  the  lower  creatures.  No 
 human  being,  however  great  or  powerful, 
 was  ever  so  free  as  a  fish.  There  is  always 
 something  that  he  must  or  must  not  do; 
 while  the  fish  may  do  whatever  he  likes. 
 All  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  put  together 
 are  not  half  so  large  as  the  sea,  and  all  the 
 railroads  and  wheels  that  ever  where  or 
 will  be  invented  are  not  so  easy  as  tins. 
 You  will  find,  on  fairly  thinking  of  it,  that 
 it  is  his  restraint  which  is  honorable  to 
 man,  not  his  liberty ;  and,  what  is  more,  it 
 is  resti'aint  which  is  honorable  even  in  the 
 lower  animals.  A  butterfly  is  more  free 
 than  a  bee,  but  you  honour  the  bee  more 
 just  because  it  is  subject  to  certain  laws 
 which  fit  it  for  orderly  function  in  bee 
 society.  And  throughout  the  world,  of 
 the  two  abstract  things,  liberty  and  re- 
 straint, restraint  is  always  the  more  honor- 
 able. It  is  true,  indeed,  that  in  these 
 and  all  other  matters  you  never  can  reason 
 finally  from  the  abstraction,  for  both  liberty 
 and  restraint  are  good  when  they  are  nobly 
 chosen,  and  both  are  bad  when  they  are 
 badly  chosen ;  but  of  the  two,  I  repeat,  it 
 is  restraint  which  characterises  the  higher 
 creature,  and  betters  the  lower  creature ; 
 and  from  the  ministering  of  the  archangel 
 to  the  labour  of  the  insect,  from  the  poising 
 of  the  planets  to  the  gravitation  of  a  grain 
 
 of  dust— the  power  and  glory  of  all  crea- 
 tures and  all  matter  consist  in  their  obe- 
 dience, not  in  their  freedom.  The  sun  has 
 no  liberty,  a  dead  leaf  has  much.  The  dust 
 of  which  you  are  formed  has  no  liberty. 
 Its  liberty  will  come— -with  its  corruption. 
 Ritskin. 
 
 LICENTIOUSNESS— Temptation  to. 
 
 There  is  not  a  more  tried  shaft  in  all 
 Satan's  quiver  than  this ;  a  persuasion  to 
 men  to  bear  themselves  too  bold  upon  the 
 favour  of  God.  "  Thou  art  the  elect  and 
 redeemed  of  God ;  sin,  because  grace  hath 
 abounded ;  sin,  that  it  may  abound.  Thou 
 art  safe  enough  though  thou  offend ;  be 
 not  too  much  an  adversary  to  thine  own 
 liberty."  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 LIFE— Different  Ages  of. 
 
 The  Chinese  apply  to  different  ages  cer- 
 tain terms.  The  age  ten  is  called  the  open- 
 ing degree ;  twenty,  youth  expired ;  thirty, 
 strength  and  marriage;  forty,  officially 
 apt;  fifty,  error-knowing;  sixty,  cycle- 
 closing;  seventy,  rare  bird  of  age ;  eighty, 
 rusty-visaged ;  ninety,  delayed ;  one  hun- 
 di-ed,  age's  extremity.  Sir  J.  Bowring. 
 
 LIFE— Alone. 
 
 Listen  to  the  language  of  one  who,  de- 
 nying revelation,  could  take  no  other  view" 
 of  life  but  this.  "  In  man,"  says  Voltaire, 
 "there  is  more  wretchedness  than  in  all 
 the  other  animals  put  together.  He  loves 
 life,  yet  he  knows  that  he  must  die.  If  he 
 enjoys  a  transient  good,  he  sufl'ers  various 
 evils,  and  is  at  last  devoured  by  worms. 
 This  knowledge — of  his  end— is  his  fatal 
 prerogative;  other  animals  have  it  not. 
 He  spends  the  transient  moments  of  his 
 existence  in  difl'using  the  miseries  which  he 
 sutlers ;  in  cutting  the  throats  of  his  fellow- 
 creatures  for  pay ;  in  cheating  and  being 
 cheated;  ift  robbing  and  being  robbed; 
 in  serving  that  he  may  command;  and  in 
 repenting  of  all  he  does.  The  bulk  of  man- 
 kind are  nothing  more  than  a  crowd  of 
 wretches  equally  criminal  and  unfortunate, 
 and  the  globe  contains  rather  carcases 
 than  men.  I  tremble  at  this  dreadful  pic- 
 ture to  find  that  it  contains  a  complaint 
 against  Providence  itself;  and  I  wish  I 
 had  never  been  born  !"  Ah,  wretclied  man ! 
 Such  are  the  miseries  of  unbelief.  Such 
 are  the  views  of  life  which  are  likely  to  be 
 taken  by  those  who  see  in  it  no  relation  to 
 an  immortal  life  beyond.  R.  Palmer. 
 
 LIFE— Arithmetic  of. 
 
 Threescoi-e  and  ten,  by  common  calculation. 
 
 The  years  of  man  amount  to — but  we'll 
 say 
 He  turns  fourscore;  yet,  in  my  estimation, 
 
 la  all  those  years  he  has  not  lived  a  day. 
 
LITE. 
 
 Out  of  the  eighty  you  must  first  jememher 
 The  hours  of  night  you  pass  asleep  in 
 hed; 
 And,  counting  from  December  to  December, 
 Just  half  your  life  you'll  find  you  have 
 been  dead. 
 To  forty  years  at  once  by  this  reduction 
 We  come ;  and  sure  the  first  five  of  your 
 birth, 
 While  cutting  teeth  and  living  upon  suction. 
 You  are  not  alive  to  what  this  life  is 
 worth ! 
 From  thirty-five  next  take,  for  education, 
 Fifteen,  at  least,  at  college  and  at  school. 
 When,  notwithstanding  all  your  applica- 
 tion, 
 The  chances  are,  you  may  turn  out  a 
 fool. 
 Still  twenty  we  have  left  us  to  dispose  of. 
 But  during  them  your  fortune  you've  to 
 make ; 
 And  granting,  with  the  luck  of  some  one 
 knows  of, 
 'Tis  made  in  ten,  that's  ten  from  life  to 
 take. 
 Out  of  the  ten,  you  must  allow  for  yet  left 
 The  time  for  shaving,  tooth  and  other 
 aches — 
 Say  four,  and  that  leaves  six,  too  short,  I 
 
 vow,  for 
 Regretting  past  and   making  fresh  mis- 
 takes ! 
 Meanwhile  each  hour  dispels   some   fond 
 illusion, 
 Until  at  length,  sans  eyes,  sans  teeth, 
 you  may 
 Have  scarcely  sense  to  come  to  this  conclu- 
 sion. 
 You've  reach'd   fourscore,   but  haven't 
 lived  a  day.  Flanche. 
 
 LIFE— as  a  Book. 
 
 Man  is,  as  it  were,  a  book ;  his  birth  is 
 the  title-page ;  his  baptism  the  epistle  dedi- 
 catory ;  his  groans  and  crying,  the  epistle 
 to  the  reader ;  his  infancy  and  childhood, 
 the  argument  or  contents  of  the  whole  en- 
 suing treatises;  his  life  and  actions  are 
 the  subject ;  his  sins  and  errors,  the  faults 
 escaped;  his  repentance,  the  correction. 
 As  for  the  volumes,  some  are  in  folio,  some 
 in  quarto,  some  in  octavo,  &c. ;  some  are 
 fairer  bound,  some  plainer ;  some  have 
 piety  and  godliness  for  their  subject; 
 others,  and  they  too  many,  are  mere  ro- 
 mances, pamphlets  of  wantonness  and 
 folly ;  but  in  the  last  page  of  every  one 
 there  stands  a  word,  which  is  Finis,  and 
 this  is  the  last  word  in  every  book.  Such 
 is  the  life  of  man,  some  longer,  some 
 shorter ;  some  stronger,  some  weaker ; 
 some  fairer,  some  coarser ;  some  holy,  some 
 pi'ofane.  But  death  comes  in,  \We  finis,  at 
 the  last,  and  closes  up  all;  for  that  is  the 
 end  of  all.  Spencer. 
 
 LITE — Changes  of. 
 
 As  the  rose-tree  is  composed  of  the 
 sweetest  flowers  and  the  sharpest  thorns; 
 as  the  heavens  are  sometimes  fair  and 
 sometimes  overcast,  alternately  tempestuous 
 and  serene;  so  is  the  life  of  man  inter- 
 mingled with  hopes  and  fears,  with  joys 
 and  sorrows,  with  pleasures  and  with  pains. 
 Burton. 
 
 Oh,  short  duration  of  all  things  here 
 below  !  Of  the  spring  freshness,  soon  con- 
 sumed by  the  drought  of  summer ;  of  this 
 May  morning,  that  a  return  of  cold  winds 
 will  blight;  of  these  poor  insect  swarms, 
 of  which  not  one  will  survive  to  see  another 
 April ;  of  that  labourer  working  there  ;  of 
 this  young  girl;  of  the  dwellers  in  that 
 village,  with  its  peaceful  smoke  from 
 cottage  chimneys;  the  dwellers  in  yonder 
 town,  with  its  ancient  towers.  Fifty 
 years,  sixty,  eighty  at  most,  and  all,  from 
 the  rosy  infant  just  learning  to  steady 
 its  little  feet  on  its  mother's  knees,  to  its 
 grandmother,  whose  head  shakes,  as  lean- 
 ing on  her  staff  she  slowly  moves  along ; 
 all  will  be  laid  in  the  dust.  On  earth,  in 
 the  place  that  knew  them  once,  a  new 
 generation  will  rise,  with  its  nurslings  and 
 its  graybeards  in  their  turn.  That  genera- 
 tion, too,  will  be  cut  down  and  laid  low; 
 and  the  next,  and  the  next;  and  death 
 will  be  always,  always  the  same  strong 
 reaper,  rising  early,  the  only  one  who  sees 
 others  pass  away,  and  himself  passes  never. 
 Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 LIFE— Dissatisfying. 
 
 An  old  man  once  said.  When  I  was  young 
 I  was  poor ;  when  old  I  became  rich  ;  but 
 in  each  condition  I  found  disappointment. 
 When  the  faculties  of  enjoyment  were,  I 
 had  not  the  means;  when  the  means  came, 
 the  faculties  were  gone.         _  Anon. 
 
 LIFE— Enjoyment  of. 
 
 Being  with  a  friend  in  a  garden,  we 
 gathered  each  of  us  a  rose.  He  handled 
 iiis  tenderly ;  smelt  it  but  seldom  and 
 sparingly.  I  always  kept  mine  to  my  nose 
 or  squeezed  it  in  my  hand ;  whereby  in  a 
 very  short  time  it  lost  both  its  colour  and 
 its  sweetness ;  but  his  still  remained  as 
 sweet  and  fragrant  as  if  it  had  been  growing 
 upon  its  own  root.  "  These  roses,"  said  I, 
 "  are  the  true  emblems  of  the  best  and 
 sweetest  creature  enjoyment  in  the  world; 
 which,  being  moderately  and  cautiously 
 used  and  enjoyed,  may  for  a  long  time 
 yield  sweetness  to  the  possessor  of  them , 
 "but  if  once  the  afl'ections  seize  greedily 
 upon  them  and  squeeze  them  too  hard, 
 they  quickly  wither  in  our  hands,  and  we 
 lose  the  comfort  of  them";  and  that  either 
 through  the  soul  surfeiting  upon  them,  or 
 
IlfE. 
 
 the  Lord's  righteous  and  just  removal  of 
 tliem,  because  of  the  excess  of  our  affec- 
 tions to  them."  Flavel, 
 
 LIFE— Estimate  of. 
 
 We  live  in  deeds,  not  years ;  in  thoughts, 
 
 not  breaths ; 
 In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 
 We    should  count  time   by  heart-throbs. 
 
 He  most  lives 
 Who  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts 
 
 the  best.  Shakespeare. 
 
 LIFE — influencing  Eternity. 
 
 This  life  of  ours,  though  so  brief  and 
 frail,  will  govern  our  eternity.  A  cannon 
 is  but  a  short  tube,  but  its  direction  at  the 
 moment  of  discharge  governs  the  whole 
 flight  of  the  ball.  A  clay  mould  is  a  fra- 
 gile thing,  but  the  molten  metal  poured 
 into  it  may  retain  the  shape  so  given,  ages 
 after  the  mould  has  crumbled  into  dust. 
 The  plate  prepared  by  a  photographer  may 
 be  exposed  to  the  light  only  for  a  very  few 
 seconds,  but  the  impressions  then  caught 
 may  be  retained  for  many  years.  Flowers 
 are  frail,  and  drop  into  the  ground,  but 
 they  leave  behind  a  ripening  seed  that 
 may  perpetuate  the  species  for  ever. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 LIFE— in  Comparison  with  Eternity. 
 
 This  world  is  but  our  nursery. 
 
 And  heaven  our  manhood  stage; 
 
 This  life  is  but  our  infancy. 
 
 Eternity  our  age ; 
 And  all  earth's  little  grief  and  joys 
 Like  transient  pains  and  idle  toys. 
 Which  childish  thoughts  engage. 
 
 A  spark  of  an  immortal  fire, 
 
 The  spirit  glimmers  here ; 
 
 But  in  full  splendour  will  aspire 
 
 In  heaven's  congenial  sphere ; 
 From  passion,  sin,  and  error  free. 
 Strong  in  its  immortality 
 Unshackled,  free,  and  clear.    J.  JEdmeston. 
 
 LIFE — Everywhere. 
 
 Life  everywhere !  The  air  is  crowded 
 with  birds — beautiful,  tender,  intelligent 
 birds,  to  whom  life  is  a  song  and  a  thrilling 
 anxiety,  the  anxiety  of  love.  The  air  is 
 swarming  with  insects — those  little  ani- 
 mated miracles.  The  waters  are  peopled 
 with  innumerable  forms,  from  the  animal- 
 cule, so  that  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions 
 of  them  would  not  weigh  a  grain,  to  the 
 whale,  so  large  that  it  seems  an  island  as  it 
 sleeps  upon  the  waves.  The  bed  of  the  sea 
 is  alive  with  polypes,  crabs,  star-fishes,  and 
 with  sand-numerous  sliell  animalcules.  The 
 rugged  face  of  rocks  is  scarred  by  the  silent 
 boring  of  soft  creatures,  and  blackened  with 
 countless  mussels,  barnacles,  and  limpets. 
 Life  everywhere!    on  the   earth,   iu  the 
 
 earth,  crawling,  creeping,  burrowing,  bor- 
 ing, leaping,  running.  If  the  sequestered 
 coolness  of  the  wood  tempt  us  to  saunter 
 into  its  chequered  shade,  we  are  saluted 
 by  the  murmurous  din  of  insects,  the  twitter 
 of  birds,  the  scrambling  of  squirrels,  the 
 startled  rush  of  unseen  beasts,  all  telling 
 how  populous  is  this  seeming  solitude.  If 
 we  pause  before  a  tree,  or  shrub,  or  plant, 
 our  cursory  and  half-abstracted  glance  de- 
 tects a  colony  of  various  inhabitants.  We 
 pluck  a  flower,  and  in  its  bosom  we  see 
 many  a  charming  insect  busy  at  its  ap- 
 pointed labour.  We  pick  up  a  fallen  leaf, 
 and,  if  nothing  is  visible  ou  it,  there  is 
 probably  the  trace  of  an  insect  larva  hidden 
 in  its  tissue,  and  awaiting  their  develop- 
 ment. The  drop  of  dew  upon  this  leaf  will 
 probably  contain  its  animals,  visible  under 
 the  microscope.  The  same  microscope  re- 
 veals that  the  blood-rain  suddenly  appear- 
 ing on  bread,  and  awakening  superstitious 
 terrors,  is  nothing  but  a  collection  of  mi- 
 nute animals  {Monas  prodigiosa) ;  and  that 
 the  vast  tracts  of  snow  which  are  reddened 
 in  a  single  night  owe  their  colour  to  the 
 marvellous  rapidity  in  reproduction  of  a 
 minute  plant  (Profococus  nivalis).  The 
 very  mould  which  covers  our  cheese,  our 
 bread,  our  jam,  our  ink,  and  disfigures  our 
 damp  walls,  is  nothing  but  a  collection  of 
 plants.  The  many-coloured  fire  which 
 sparkles  on  the  surface  of  a  summer  sea  at 
 night,  as  the  vessel  ploughs  her  way,  or 
 which  drips  from  the  oars  in  lines  of 
 jewelled  light,  is  produced  by  millions  of 
 minute  animals.  Sala. 
 
 LIFE— Expenditure  of. 
 
 Life  is  expenditure.  We  have  it,  but 
 are  continually  losing  it :  we  have  the.  use 
 of  it,  but  we  are  constantly  wasting  it. 
 Suppose  a  man  confined  in  some  fortress, 
 under  the  doom  to  stay  there  till  death ; 
 and  suppose  there  is  there  for  his  use  a 
 dark  reservoir  of  water,  to  which  it  is  cer- 
 tain none  can  ever  be  added.  He  knows, 
 suppose,  that  the  quantity  is  not  very 
 great  ;•  he  cannot  penetrate  to  ascertain 
 how  much,  but  it  may  be  very  little.  He 
 has  drawn  from  it  by  means  of  a  fountain 
 a  good  while  already,  and  draws  from  it 
 every  day.  But  how  would  he  feel  each 
 time  of  drawing,  and  each  time  partaking 
 of  it  ?  Not  as  if  he  had  a  perennial  spring 
 to  go  to.  Not,  "  I  have  a  reservoir ;  I  may 
 be  at  ease."  No  ;  but,  "  I  had  water  yes- 
 terday; I  have  water  to-day;  but  having 
 had  it,  and  my  having  it  to-day,  is  the 
 very  cause  that  I  shall  not  have  it  on  some 
 day  that  is  approaching ;  and  at  the  same 
 time  I  am  compelled  to  this  fatal  exp^n- 
 diture."  So  of  our  mortal  transient  life. 
 And  yet  men  are  very  indisposed  to  admit 
 the  plain  truth  that  life  is  a  thing  which 
 they  are  in  no  way  other  possessing  thau 
 
534 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 as  necessarily  consutning ;  that  even  in 
 this  imperfect  sense  of  possession  it  be- 
 comes every  day  a  less  possession. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 LIFE— rruitfalness  of. 
 
 Let  us  not  forget  that  we  are  always 
 bearing  fruit  of  some  kiud  or  other.  As 
 the  farmer's  land,  if  it  is  not  cultivated 
 and  sown  with  seed,  and  growing  him  a 
 crop  oi good  fruit,  it  is,  witliout  cultivation, 
 producing  him  that  fruit  which  will  be  a 
 curse  to  his  land  and  a  loss  to  himself;  so 
 with  us.  Whether  we  cultivate  by  religion 
 and  education  our  minds,  bodies,  and  souls, 
 or  let  tliem  alone,  they  are  always  pro- 
 ducing fruit  which  will  be  worse  than 
 rottenness  itself,  and  plunge  us  into  the 
 deepest  poverty  for  ever;  or  fruit  unto 
 holiness,  whose  end  is  everlasting  life. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 LIFE— and  the  Future. 
 
 When  a  young  man  is  placed  by  his 
 parents  in  the  condition  of  an  apprentice, 
 the  main  object  is  not  to  make  him  happy 
 during  the  limited  term  of  years  for  wliich 
 he  serves.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  distinctly 
 understood  that  for  the  sake  of  the  future 
 years  of  Vfe  he  is  for  the  present  to  submit 
 to  many  sacrifices,  to  bear  patiently  not  a 
 few  self-denials  and  privations,  and  even 
 possibly  some  actual  hardships.  Why  then 
 should  it  be  wondered  at  if  in  this  brief 
 apprenticeship  of  ours  on  earth,  this  first 
 scene  of  an  interminable  e.xistence,  it  should 
 not  seem  to  be  the  design  of  Providence  to 
 make  us  completely  happy ;  if,  on  the  con- 
 trary, it  should  subject  us  to  many  trials 
 and  discomforts  ?  Why  should  it  not  be 
 rationally  believed  that  so  many  at  least  of 
 the  adversities  which  mark  our  lives  as  are 
 fairly  to  be  attributed  to  the  providence  of 
 God,  are  fitted  to  subserve  some  ends  in 
 reference  to  the  future  far  more  important 
 than  that  of  giving  us  a  present  pleasure  ? 
 And  if  this  be  admitted,  then  from  this 
 point  of  view  there  are  some  cheering 
 rays  to  gild  the  troubled  waters  of  life's 
 ever  restless  sea.  The  terrilde  picture 
 drawn  by  the  pen  of  unbelief,  which  we 
 have  quoted  above,  is  seen  to  be  essentially 
 a  false  one,  and  the  fortunes  of  humanity, 
 inconstant,  and  in  many  aspects  painful  as 
 they  are,  seem  far  less  mysterious  and 
 gloomy  than  before.  R.  Fahner. 
 
 LIFE— Gauge  of. 
 
 They  err  who  measure  life  by  years, 
 
 With  false  or  tlioughtless  tongue  : 
 Some  hearts  grow  old  before  their  time; 
 
 Others  are  always  young. 
 
 'Tis  not  the  number  of  the  lines 
 
 On  life's  fast  filling  page, — 
 'Tis  not  the  pulse's  added  throbs. 
 
 Which  constitute  their  age. 
 
 Some  souls  are  serfs  among  the  free, 
 
 While  others  nobly  thrive; 
 They  stand  just  where  their  fathers  stood; 
 
 Dead,  even  while  they  live  ! 
 Others,  all  spirit,  heart,  and  sense ; 
 
 Theirs  the  mysterious  power 
 To  live  in  thrills  of  joy  or  woe, 
 
 A  twelvemonth  in  an  hour ! 
 Seize,  then,  the  minutes  as  they  pass; 
 
 The  woof  of  life  is  thought ! 
 Warm  up  the  colours ;  let  them  glow 
 
 With  fire  or  fancy  fraught. 
 Live  to  some  purpose  ;  make  thy  life 
 
 A  gift  of  use  to  thee  : 
 A  joy,  a  good,  a  golden  hope, 
 
 A  heavenly  argosy  !  Anon. 
 
 LIFi:— the  Gift  of  God. 
 
 I  need  not  remind  you  that  this  is  the 
 exclusive  prerogative  of  Godhead.  It  ia 
 so  in  the  nature  of  things.  It  is  frequently 
 and  explicitly  affirmed  to  be  so  in  the 
 sacred  Scriptures.  Man's  power  is  very 
 mighty,  I  know  ;  but  it  stops  short  of  this. 
 He  can  put  a  bone  before  him,  and  from  a 
 bone,  a  fossil  bone,  he  can  construct  a 
 massive  elephant,  and,  with  Promethean 
 ambition,  he  can  shape  its  feature  faiilt- 
 lessly,  and  by  clock-work,  or  by  galvanism, 
 he  can  stimulate  a  strange  hypocrisy  of 
 life;  but  he  cannot  draw  dowr  the  vital 
 breath  ;  he  cannot  breathe  the  living  fire. 
 His  province  is  combination  and  embellish- 
 ment. By  Divine  authority,  plainly  con- 
 ferred, he  may  now  and  then  be  permitted 
 to  resuscitate;  to  breathe  is  beyond  his 
 power.  That  belongs  only  to  God.  "  Am 
 I  God,"  said  the  frightened  king  of  Israel, 
 "  to  kill  and  to  make  alive,  that  this  man 
 doth  send  to  me  to  i-ecover  a  man  of  his 
 leprosy  ?  "  W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 LIFE— Humble  and  Useful. 
 1  traced  a  little  brook  to  its  well-head, 
 Wliere,  amid  quivering  weeds,  its  waters 
 
 leap 
 From    the    earth,   and    hurrying    into 
 shadow,  creep 
 Unseen  but  vocal  in  their  deep-worn  bed. 
 Hawthorns  and  hazels  interlacing  wed 
 With  roses  sweet,  and  overhang  the  steep 
 Moss'd  banks,  while  through  the  leaves 
 stray  sunbeams  peep, 
 And  on  the  whispering  stream  faint  glim- 
 merings shed. 
 Thus  let  my  life  flow  on,  through  green 
 fields  gliding. 
 Unnoticed  not  unuseful  in  its  coui'se. 
 Still  fresh  and  fragrant,  though  in  shadow 
 hiding, 
 Holding   its   destined  way   with   quiet 
 force, 
 Cheer'd  with  the  music  of  a  peace  abiding, 
 Drawn    daily   from    its    ever-springing 
 source.  Richard  Wilton. 
 
IIFE. 
 
 535 
 
 LIFE — Insignificance  of. 
 
 Life's  but  a  walking  shadow  ;  a  poor  player, 
 
 That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon   the 
 
 stage. 
 And  then  is  heard  no  more ;  it  is  a  tale 
 Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury. 
 Signifying  nothing.  Shakespeare. 
 
 LIFE — as  a  Journey. 
 
 We  talk  of  human  life  as  a  journey,  but 
 now  variously  is  that  journey  performed. 
 There  are  those  who  come  forth  girt,  and 
 shod,  and  mantled,  to  walk  on  velvet 
 lawns  and  smooth  terraces,  where  every 
 gale  is  arrested  and  every  beam  is  tem- 
 pered. There  are  others  who  walk  on  the 
 Alpine  paths  of  life,  against  driving  misery, 
 and  through  stormy  sorrows,  over  sharp 
 alilictions ;  walk  with  bare  feet  and  naked 
 breast,  jaded,  mangled,  and  chilled. 
 
 Si/dney  Smith. 
 
 All  life  is  a  journey,  not  a  home;  it  is  a 
 road,  not  the  country;  and  those  tran- 
 sient enjoyments  which  you  have  in  this 
 life,  lawfui  in  their  way— those  incidental 
 and  evanescent  pleasures  which  you  may 
 sip— are  not  home;  they  are  little  inns 
 only  upon  the  roadside  of  life,  where  you 
 are  refreshed  for  a  moment,  that  you  may 
 take  again  the  pilgrim's  staft'  and  journey 
 on,  seeking  what  is  still  before  you— the 
 rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God. 
 Anon. 
 LIFE— Longest. 
 
 Amongst  rational  beings  that  life  is 
 longest,  whether  brief  or  protracted  its 
 outward  term,  into  which  the  largest 
 amount  of  miud,  of  mental  and  moral  ac- 
 tivity, is  condensed.  It  is  possible  for  the 
 Lingest  life  to  be  really  briefer  than  the 
 Shortest,  and  the  child  or  youth  may  die 
 older,  with  more  of  life  ci-owded  into  his 
 brief  existence,  than  he  whose  dull  and 
 stagnant  being  drags  on  to  an  inglorious 
 old  age.  "       Caird. 
 
 LIFE— Lovely. 
 
 Life  is  lovely  every  way.  Even  if  we 
 look  upon  it  as  an  isolated  thing  existing 
 apart  from  the  rest  of  nature,  and  using 
 tlie  inorganic  world  merely  as  a  dead  pe- 
 destal on  which  to  sustain  itself,  it  is  still 
 beautiful.  J.  Sinton. 
 
 LIFE— Measure  of. 
 
 Married  people  live  longer  than  unmar- 
 ried ones,  and  a  tall  man  is  likely  to  live 
 longer  than  a  short  one.  Until  the  fiftieth 
 year  women  have  a  better  chance  of  life 
 than  men,  but  beyond  that  period  the 
 chances  are  equal.  Sixty-five  persons  out 
 of  1000  marry.  The  months  of  June  and 
 December  are  those  in  which  marriages 
 are  most  frequent.     Children  born  in  the 
 
 spring  are  generally  stronger  than  those 
 born  in  other  seasons.  Births  and  deaths 
 chiefly  occur  at  night.  The  number  of 
 men  able  to  bear  arms  is  but  one  eighth  of 
 the  population. 
 
 The  nature  of  the  profession  exercises  a 
 great  influence  on  longevity ;  thus  out  of 
 100  of  each  of  the  following  professions  the 
 number  of  those  who  attain  their  seventieth 
 year  is — among  clergymen,  42;  agricul- 
 turists, 40 ;  traders  and  manufacturers,  33 ; 
 soldiers  and  clerks,  32;  lawyers,  29;  artists, 
 28 ;  professors,  27 ;  physicians,  24 :  so 
 those  who  study  the  art  of  prolonging  the 
 lives  of  others  are  most  liable  to  die  early, 
 probably  on  account  of  the  effluvia  to  which 
 they  are  constantly  exposed. 
 
 Aheille  Medicale. 
 
 The  total  number  of  human  beings  on 
 earth  is  now  computed  in  round  numbers 
 at  1,000,000,000.  They  speak  3064  now 
 known  tongues,  and  in  which  upwards  of 
 1100  religions  or  creeds  are  preached.  The 
 average  age  of  life  is  33^  years.  One 
 fourth  of  the  born  die  before  they  reach 
 the  age  of  7  years,  and  the  half  before  the 
 seventeenth  year.  Out  of  100  persons 
 only  6  reach  the  age  of  60  years  and 
 upward,  while  only  1  in  1000  reaches  the 
 age  of  100  years.  Out  of  500  only  1  attains 
 80  years.  Out  of  the  1,000,000,000  living 
 persons,  330,000,000  die  annually,  91,000 
 daily,  3730  every  hour,  60  every  minute, 
 and  consequently  1  every  second.  The 
 loss  is,  however,  balanced  by  the  gain  in 
 new  births.  Ibid. 
 
 LIFE— Misfortune  of. 
 
 One  of  the  greatest  misfortunes  of  our 
 life  is,  that  we  never  sufficiently  know  our 
 own  good  till  we  lose  it.  We  fly  from 
 that  we  should  seek ;  we  seek  that  we 
 should  avoid;  and  never  begin  to  bewail 
 our  losses  but  when  they  are  not  to  be 
 recovered.  N.  Causxin. 
 
 LIFE— Mysteries  of. 
 
 "Declare,  if  thou  knowest  it." — 
 This  question  meets  me  everywhere,  in  re- 
 lation to  everything,  and  my  life  is  a 
 struggle  after  answers.  Intellectual  diffi- 
 culty, like  the  fabled  monster  that  of  old 
 haunted  the  neighbourhood  of  classic 
 Thebes,  besets  the  path  of  life,  meets  us  at 
 every  turn,  and  presses  on  us  its  enigmas 
 with  terrible  severity.  When  we  solve  its 
 dark  riddles  we  kill  it,  when  we  fail  we  be- 
 come its  victims.  Godliness  is  the  only 
 true  yEdipus  of  the  soul.  In  the  beams  of 
 a  God-loving  heart,  all  mental  mysteries 
 melt  away  as  the  mountain  mists  in  the 
 summer's  sun. — "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is 
 the  beginning  of  wisdom  :" — piety  is  au 
 "  unction  from  the  Holy  One,  by  which  v,-e 
 know  all  things."  Anon. 
 
536 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 LIFE— Object  of. 
 
 Anaxagoeas  being  asked  what  he 
 thought  he  was  born  for  ?  answered,  "That 
 I  may  meditate  upon  heaven."  O  my 
 soul !  what  dost  thou  think  thou  wast  re- 
 born for  ?  Is  it  not  that  thou  mayest  live 
 in  heaven  ?  God  bath  made  thee  to  enjoy 
 communion  with  Himself;  thou  needst  not 
 stay  one  hour  on  earth  but,  with  Enoch, 
 spend  thy  days  with  God,  walk  and  con- 
 verse with  Jesus  Chri>t  in  the  galleries  of 
 His  love;  with  Moses  live  on  the  mount  of 
 glory.  Anon. 
 
 LIFE— One. 
 
 'Tis  not  for  man  to  trifle  !     Life  is  brief. 
 
 And  sin  is  here. 
 Our  age  is  but  the  falling  of  a  leaf, 
 
 A  dropping  tear. 
 We  have  no  time  to  sport  away  the  hours. 
 All  must  be  earnest  in  a  world  like  ours. 
 Not  many  lives,  but  only  one  have  we, 
 
 One,  only  one ! 
 How  sacred  should  that  one  life  ever  be. 
 
 That  narrow  span ! 
 Day  after  day  filled  up  with  blessed  toil. 
 Hour   after    hour    still    bringing    in    new 
 spoil.  I)r.  Bonar. 
 
 LIFE— Parting  with. 
 
 Life !  we've  been  long  together. 
 Through    pleasant    and    through    cloudy 
 weather. 
 'Tis  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear, 
 Perliaps  'twill  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear. 
 Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 
 
 Choose  thine  own  time ; 
 Say  not  good  night,  but  in  some  happier 
 clime 
 
 Bid  me  good  morning. 
 
 Mrs.  Barhauld. 
 LIFE— Passage  of. 
 
 We  sail  the  sea  of  life  :  a  calm  one  finds. 
 And  one  a  tempest ;  and,  the  voyage  o'er. 
 Death  is  the  quiet  haven  of  us  all. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 LIFE— Peaceful. 
 
 Saviour!   how  peacefully  the  life, 
 Now  with  regretful  murmurs  rife, 
 
 Would  drop  its  noiseless  sand. 
 Could  we  but  feel  each  tiny  grain, 
 Each  moment  fraught  with  joy  or  pain, 
 Was  measured  through  Thy  hand. 
 
 H.N. 
 LIFE— Perfect. 
 
 It  is  not  growing  like  a  tree 
 
 In  bulk  doth  make  man  better  hej 
 Or  standing  long   an  oak  three-Uundred- 
 
 year. 
 To  fall  a  log  at  last,  dry,  bald,  and  sere; 
 
 A  lily  of  the  d;iy 
 
 Is  fairer  far  in  Aiay, 
 
 Although  it  fall  and  die  that  night; 
 
 It  was  the  jilant  and  flower  of  light. 
 In  small  proportions  we  just  beauties  see. 
 And  in  short  measures  life  may  perfect  be. 
 Ben  Jonson. 
 LIFE— Perils  of. 
 
 Go  to  some  man  now  past  the  meridian 
 of  life,  whose  character  and  habits,  with 
 the  Divine  blessing,  have  made  him  ho- 
 noured and  successful.  He  was  one  of  a 
 band,  more  or  less  numerous,  who  set  out 
 in  life  together.  They  came  forth  from 
 their  homes  and  from  the  schoolroom  dif- 
 fering, perhaps,  but  little  either  in  their 
 talents  or  acquirements.  Ask  him  to  tell 
 you  where  those  his  early  associates  are 
 now,  and  what  he  remembers  of  their  his- 
 tory. Ah  !  liow  painful  tlie  recollection 
 and  the  recital !  One,  he  will  say,  as  he 
 brings  back  the  half  forgotten  past,  looked 
 on  the  wine  when  it  was  red,  and  he  went 
 early  to  the  drunkard's  grave.  Another 
 yielded  to  the  love  of  vain  display ;  and 
 after  a  brief  career  of  brilliant  folly  and 
 extravagance,  he  passed  by  bankruptcy  to 
 poverty,  and  was  soon  forgotten  by  the 
 world.  A  third  indulged,  at  first,  in  some 
 trifling  dishonesty,  and  then  he  was  led  on 
 till  he  became  a  villain,  and  finally  went  to 
 prison,  or  to  an  ignominious  death.  A 
 fourth  gave  loose  to  sensual  appetite ;  and 
 then  from  impurity  of  thought  and  word, 
 he  went  on  step  by  step,  till  he  suffiered 
 the  miseries,  and  met  at  last  the  fate  of  the 
 worn-out  profligate.  A  fifth  was  taken  in 
 the  gambler's  snare,  and  fell  by  suicide.  A 
 sixth — but  why  should  I  go  on  ?  So  daily 
 perish,  on  life's  br«ad  arena,  the  hopes  of 
 fathers  and  mothers !  So  sink  into  the 
 depths  of  shame  and  ruin  many  who 
 should  have  shone  as  brilliant  stars  in  the 
 galaxy  of  intellect — sliould  have  found  a 
 place  among  the  noblest  spirits  that  have 
 ever  done  honour  to  humanity  and  climbed 
 the  enviable  heights  of  fair  renown.  The 
 roadside  of  life  is  all  whitened  with  the 
 bones  of  the  multitudes  who  have  fallen 
 thus,  having  made,  by  their  own  missteps, 
 an  utter  wreck  of  their  hopes,  their  charac- 
 ters, and  tlieir  all.  With  such  evidence  of 
 the  perils  of  life,  can  it  be  doubted  that 
 youth  requires  a  guide  with  a  friendly  hand 
 to  lead  them  ?  It.  Palmer. 
 
 LIFE— Personal. 
 
 Your  life  is  yours,  it  is  not  mine.  My 
 life  is  mine,  and  not  another's.  It  is  not 
 alone  spe<'ific,  it  is  individual.  Human 
 faculties  are  common,  but  that  which  con- 
 verges these  faculties  into  my  identity, 
 separates  me  from  every  other  man.  That 
 other  man  cannot  think  my  thoughts,  he 
 cannot  speak  my  words,  he  cannot  do  my 
 works.  He  cannot  have  my  sins,  I  cannot 
 have  his  virtues.     I  am  as  incapable  of 
 
LIFE. 
 
 537 
 
 taking  his  place  as  he  is  of  taking  mine. 
 Each  must  feel,  therefoi-e,  that  his  life 
 must  he  his  own.  It  has  a  training,  and 
 an  impulse,  and  a  jiower,  and  a  purpose, 
 which  givehim  an  independent  personality; 
 and  in  the  unfolding  of  that  personality, 
 consist  the  destiny  of  his  life  and  its  nses. 
 Henry  Giles. 
 LIFE— Phases  of. 
 
 Were  life,  like  the  "  Conrt  of  Death," 
 thrown  on  canvas,  it  would  be  no  less  a 
 picture  of  contrasts — a  panorama  of  visible 
 scenes  and  shades  of  ciiaracter  dissimilar 
 ever,  though  perpetually  changing.  In 
 the  market-place,  the  incarnate  fiend 
 jostles  the  humble  saint — the  liaughty  rich 
 man  passes  with  scorn  the  unoffending 
 poor.  Tlie  vile  walk  unblusliingly  by  the 
 side  of  the  virtuous,  glnrying  over  inno- 
 cence and  beauty  blasted  for  ever ;  and  the 
 weak  cower  beneath  the  frown  and  gra'^p 
 of  the  strong.  In  the  former,  the  unwor- 
 thy judge  gives  sentence  on  the  less  guilty 
 criminal,  and  the  citizen  of  unsaintly 
 integi-ity  sits  on  the  same  juroi-s'  bench 
 with  the  undetected  villain.  The  states- 
 man, the  orator,  and  the  bard,  crowned 
 with  honour  and  weary  of  praise,  lie  raving 
 with  delirium,  or  in  idiotic  silence  before 
 the  intoxicating  bowl ;  and  the  proudest 
 princes,  and  the  hero  of  a  thousand  battles, 
 kneeling  in  unresistii  g  captivity,  cast 
 crown  and  laurels  at  the  feet  of  beauty. 
 
 P.  C.  mddley. 
 
 The  child  lay  down  to  rest  ; 
 His  bright  eye  had  no  tear  ; 
 His  glad  heart  felt  no  fear. 
 Not  yet  by  grief  distrest : 
 One  little  hand  still  clasped  his  toy ; 
 His  dreams  were  only  di-eams  of  joy. 
 The  man  lay  down  to  weep  ; 
 Since  he  had  been  a  child. 
 Stern  grief  and  anguish  wild. 
 Those  thorns,  which  sin  doth  keep, 
 Still  lurking  near  each  earthly  flower. 
 Had  pierced  his  soul  with  with'ring  power. 
 Old  age  lay  dowia  to  die ; 
 
 Life's  joyous  hours  were  flown, 
 Labour  and  sorrow  known. 
 I  heard  the  last  faint  sigh  : 
 The  child,  the  man,  the  vet'ran,  all. 
 Were  shrouded  'neath  the  fun'ral  pall. 
 
 Anon. 
 LIFE— Possession  of. 
 
 Whatever  other  men  contrive  to  extract 
 out  of  life — as  comfort,  ease,  knowledge, 
 honour,  power — they  are,  after  all,  pos- 
 sessors only  of  its  surface  wealth ;  the 
 Christian  alone,  the  man  who  has  disco- 
 vered and  appropriated  its  hidden  treasure 
 of  holy  tliought,  feeling,  energy,  who  has 
 pierced  down  through  life's  common  strata, 
 and  reached  the  Divine  element  in  it — he 
 
 alone  can  be  said  to  be  its  true  possessor. 
 Confine  a  bird  for  life  to  a  cage,  and  could 
 it  be  said  to  be  in  reality  possessor  of  the 
 unexercised,  unenjoyed  power  to  soar  and 
 sweep  the  heavens  ?  But  within  every 
 human  breast  there  are  capabilities  of 
 heaven,  folded  wings  of  thought,  aspira- 
 tion, energy,  which  need  only  the  liberat- 
 ing toucli  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  call  forth 
 their  hidden  power,  and  bear  the  soul  up- 
 ward to  the  true  region  of  its  life.  The 
 true  ideal  of  man's  life  is  that  of  a  heavenly 
 life,  "  a  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God," — the 
 life  of  one  whose  "  conversation  is  in 
 heaven,"  who  is  "  risen  with  Christ,  and 
 made  to  dwell  with  Him  in  heavenly 
 places,"  and  who,  even  amidst  the  common 
 duties  of  the  world,  derives  his  motives 
 and  principles  from  a  nobler  sphere  of 
 being.  Caird, 
 
 LIFE— Power  of. 
 
 The  word  translated  power  in  the  text 
 (Heb.  vii,  16)  is  the  original  of  our  word 
 dynamic,  denoting  a  certain  impetus,  mo- 
 mentum, or  causative  force,  which  is  cumu- 
 lative, growing  stronger  and  more  im- 
 pelling as  it  goes.  And  this  is  the  nature 
 of  life  or  vital  force  universally — it  is  a 
 force  cumulative  as  long  as  it  continues. 
 It  enters  into  matter  as  a  building,  organ- 
 ising, lifting  power,  and  knows  not  how  to 
 stop  till  death  stops  it.  We  use  the  word 
 groiv  to  describe  its  action,  and  it  does  not 
 even  know  how  to  subsist  without  growth. 
 In  which  growth  it  lays  hold  continually 
 of  new  material,  expands  in  volume,  and 
 fills  a  larger  sphere  of  body  with  its  power. 
 Br.  Bushnell. 
 LIFE— Price  of. 
 
 The  price  of  life  is  greater  than  that 
 any  man,  how  wealthy  soever,  can  compass 
 it.  Money  is  the  monarch  of  this  world, 
 but  not  of  the  next.  J.  Trapp. 
 
 LIFE — Promotion  in. 
 
 During  the  troubles  in  the  reign  of  king 
 Charles  1,  a  country  girl  came  up  to  Lon- 
 don in  search  of  a  place  as  a  servant  maid; 
 but  not  succeeding,  she  applied  herself  to 
 carrying  out  beer  from  a  brewhouse,  and 
 was  one  of  those  th  n  called  tub-women. 
 The  brewer  observing  a  well-looking  girl 
 in  this  low  occupation,  took  her  into  liis 
 family  as  a  servant ;  and,  after  awhile,  she 
 behaving  herself  with  so  much  prudence 
 and  decorum,  he  married  her;  but  he  died 
 when  she  was  yet  a  young  woman,  and  left 
 lier  a  large  fortune.  The  business  of  the 
 brewery  was  dropped,andthe  young  woman 
 was  recommended  to  Mr.  Hyde,  as  a  gen- 
 tleman of  skill  in  the  law,  to  settle  her 
 afl'airs.  Hyde  (who  was  afterwards  the 
 great  Earl  of  Clarendon),  finding  the 
 widow's  fortune  very  considerable,  married 
 her.     Of  this  marriage  there  was  no  other 
 
538 
 
 LIFE. 
 
 issue  than  a  daughter,  who  was  afterwards 
 the  wife  of  James  II,  and  mother  of  Mary 
 and  Anne,  queens  of  England.      Chambers. 
 
 LIFE— Quiet. 
 
 Tiniest  insects  huild  up  loftiest  moun- 
 tains.  Broad  bands  of  solid  rock,  which 
 undergird  the  earth,  have  been  welded  by 
 the  patient,  constant  toil  of  invisible  crea- 
 tures, working  on  thi-ough  the  ages  un- 
 hasting,  unresting,  fulfilling  their  Maker's 
 will.  On  the  shores  of  primeval  oceans, 
 watched  only  by  the  patient  stars,  these 
 silent  workmen  have  been  building  for  us 
 the  structure  of  the  world.  And  thus  the 
 obscure  work  of  unknown  nameless  ages 
 appears  at  last  in  the  sunlight,  the  adorned 
 and  noble  theatre  of  that  life  of  man, 
 which,  of  all  that  is  done  in  this  universe, 
 is  fullest  before  God  of  interest  and  hope. 
 
 It  is  thus  too  in  life.  The  quiet  mo- 
 ments build  the  years.  The  labours  of  the 
 obscure  and  unremembered  hours  edify  that 
 palace  of  the  soul  in  which  it  is  to  abide, 
 and  fabricate  that  organ  whereby  it  is  to 
 work  and  express  itself  through  eternity. 
 
 /.  B,  Brown. 
 LIFE— Ee-lived. 
 
 There  is  a  moment  when  a  man's  life  is 
 re-lived  on  earth.  It  is  in  that  hour  in 
 which  the  coffin  lid  is  shut  down,  just 
 before  the  funeral,  when  earth  has  seen  the 
 List  of  him  for  ever.  Then  the  whole  life 
 is,  as  it  were,  lived  over  again  in  the  con- 
 versation which  turns  upon  the  memory  of 
 the  departed.  The  history  of  threescore 
 years  and  ten  is  soon  recapitulated  ;  not  of 
 course  the  innumerable  incidents  and  acts 
 which  they  contained,  but  the  central  go- 
 verning principle  of  the  whole. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 LIFE— as  a  River. 
 
 A  full  and  clear  river  is,  in  my  opinion, 
 the  most  poetical  object  in  nature.  Pliny 
 has,  as  well  as  I  recollect,  compared  a  river 
 to  human  life.  I  have  never  read  the  pas- 
 sage in  his  works  but  have  been  a  hundred 
 times  struck  with  the  analogy,  particularly 
 amidst  mountain  scenery.  The  river,  small 
 and  clear  in  its  origin,  gushes  forth  from 
 rocks,  falls  into  deep  glens,  and  wantons 
 and  meanders  through  a  wild  and  pictur- 
 esque country,  nourishing  only  the  unculti- 
 vated tree  or  flower  by  its  dew  or  spray. 
 In  this,  in  its  state  of  infancy  and  youth, 
 it  may  he  compared  to  the  human  mind  in 
 which  fancy  and  strength  of  imagination 
 are  predominant — it  is  more  beautiful  than 
 useful.  When  the  diffei-ent  rills  or  tor- 
 rents join  and  descend  into  the  plain  it 
 becomes  slow  and  stately  in  its  motions, 
 and  to  bear  upon  its  bosom  the  stately 
 barge.  In  this  mature  state  it  is  deep, 
 strong,  and  useful.  As  it  flows  on  towards 
 the  sea,  it  loses  its  force  and  its  motion ; 
 
 and  at  last,  as  it  were,  becomes  lost  and 
 
 mingled  with  the  mighty  abyss  of  waters. 
 
 Sir  H.  Davy. 
 
 Life  bears  us  on  like  a  stream  of  a 
 mighty  river.  Our  boat  at  first  ghdes 
 down  the  narrow  channel — through  the 
 playful  murmuring  of  the  little  brook  and 
 the  winding  of  its  grassy  borders.  The 
 trees  shed  their  blossoms  over  young  heads, 
 the  flowers  on  the  brink  seem  to  off'er 
 themselves  to  the  young  hands  :  we  are 
 happy  in  hope,  and  we  grasp  eagerly  at  the 
 beauties  around  us — but  the  stream  hurries 
 on,  and  still  our  hands  are  empty.  Our 
 course  in  youth  and  manhood  is  along  a 
 wilder  and  deeper  flood,  amid  objects  more 
 striking  and  magnificent.  We  are  ani- 
 mated at  the  moving  pictures  and  enjoy- 
 ments and  industry  passing  us  ;  we  are  ex- 
 cited at  some  short-lived  disappointment. 
 The  stream  bears  us  on,  and  our  joys  and 
 griefs  are  alike  left  behind  us.  We  may 
 be  shipwrecked,  but  we  cannot  be  delayed  ; 
 whether  rough  or  smooth  the  river  hastens 
 to  its  home,  till  the  roar  of  the  ocean  is  in 
 our  ears,  and  the  tossing  of  the  waves  is 
 beneath  our  feet,  and  the  laud  lessens  from 
 our  eyes,  and  the  floods  are  lifted  up  around 
 us,  and  we  take  our  leave  of  earth  and  its 
 inhabitants,  until  of  our  future  voyage 
 there  is  no  witness  save  the  Infinite  and 
 Eternal.  Bp.  Reber. 
 
 LIFE— Eound  of. 
 
 Some  are  serving — some  commanding  ; 
 Some  are  sitting — some  are  standing ; 
 Some  rejoicing — some  are  grieving ; 
 Some  entreating — some  relieving  ; 
 Some  are  weeping — some  are  laughing  j 
 Some  are  thirsting — some  are  quafiiug ; 
 Some  accepting— some  refusing  ; 
 Some  are  thrifty — some  abusing ; 
 Some  compelling — some  persuading; 
 Some  are  flatt'ring — some  degrading ; 
 Some  are  patient — some  are  fuming  j 
 Some  are  modest — some  presuming ; 
 Some  are  leasing — some  are  farming ; 
 Some  are  helping — some  are  harming  ; 
 Some  are  running — some  are  riding  ; 
 Some  departing — some  abiding  ; 
 Some  are  sending — some  are  bringing; 
 Some  are  crying — some  are  singing; 
 Some  are  hearing — some  are  preaching ; 
 Some  are  learning — some  are  teaching  ; 
 Some  disdaining — some  afliecting ; 
 Some  assiduous — some  neglecting; 
 Some  are  feasting — some  are  fasting; 
 Some  are  saving — some  are  wasting; 
 Some  are  losing — some  are  winning  ; 
 Some  repenting — some  are  sinning; 
 Some  professing — some  adoring ; 
 Some  are  silent — some  are  roaring; 
 Some  are  restive — some  are  willing  j 
 Some  preserving — some  are  killing; 
 Some  are  bounteous — some  are  grinding ; 
 
LIFE. 
 
 539 
 
 Some  are  seelcing — some  are  finding; 
 Some  are  thieving — some  receiving  ; 
 Some  are  hiding — some  revealing  ; 
 Some  commending — some  are  bhiming  ; 
 Some  dismemb'ring — some  new  framing  j 
 Some  are  quiet — some  disputing; 
 Some  confuted  and  confuting  ; 
 Some  are  marching — some  retiring; 
 Some  are  resting — some  aspiring  ; 
 Some  enduring — some  deriding; 
 Some  are  falling — some  are  rising. 
 These  are  sufficient  to  recite, 
 Since  all  men's  deeds  are  infinite  j 
 Some  end  their  parts  when  some  begin  ; 
 Some  go  out  and  some  come  in. 
 
 Bp.  Home. 
 LIFE— Seasons  of. 
 
 At  a  festival  party  of  old  and  young,  the 
 question  was  asiced.  Which  season  of  life 
 was  the  most  happy  ?  After  being  freely 
 discussed  by  the  guests,  it  was  referred  for 
 answer  to  the  host,  upon  whom  was  the 
 burden  of  fourscore  years.  He  asked  if 
 they  had  noticed  a  grove  of  trees  before 
 the  dwelling,  and  said,  "  When  the  spring 
 comes,  and  in  the  soft  air  the  buds  are 
 breaking  on  the  trees,  and  they  are  covered 
 witli  blossoms,  I  think,  How  beautiful  is 
 spring !  And  when  the  summer  comes, 
 and  covers  the  trees  with  its  heavy  foliage, 
 and  singing  birds  are  all  among  tlie 
 branches,  I  think,  How  heautijul  is  sum- 
 mer!  When  autumn  loads  them  with 
 golden  fruit,  and  their  leaves  bear  the  gor- 
 geous tint  of  frost,  I  think,  How  beauiiful 
 is  autumn!  And  when  it  is  *ere  winter, 
 and  there  is  neither  foliage  nor  fruit,  then 
 1  look  up,  and  through  the  leattess  branches, 
 as  I  could  never  until  now,  I  see  the  stars 
 shine  through."  Dr.  Adams. 
 
 LIFE— Seriousness  of. 
 
 I  am  convinced  the  world  will  get  tired, 
 at  least,  1  hope  so,  of  this  eternal  guffaw 
 about  all  things.  After  all,  life  has  some- 
 thing serious  in  it.  It  cannot  be  all 
 comic  history  of  humanity. 
 
 Dotiglas  Jerrold. 
 LIFE— Shortness  of. 
 
 The  word  translated  "  short"  is  com- 
 monly apjilied  to  the  act  of  furling  in 
 sriil,  i.  e.  reducing  it  into  a  narrow  com- 
 piiss  ;  and  is  then  applied  to  anything  that 
 is  reduced  within  narrow  limits. 
 
 One  of  the  most  ingenious  tortures  of 
 the  Hohenslaufen  family,  in  the  height  of 
 their  despotic  control,  was  that  of  a  cell, 
 which,  at  the  prisoner's  first  entrance, 
 presented  an  air  of  comfort  and  ease  ;  so 
 that  it  was  not  till  he  had  been  a  few  days 
 confined  that  he  observed  the  dimensions 
 of  his  chamber  beginning  to  contract.  But 
 the  discovery  once  made,  the  fact  became 
 more  ajipalling  every  day.  Slowly,  but 
 terribly,  the  sides  drew  closer,  and  the  un- 
 
 happy victim  at  last  was  crusbed  to  death. 
 Is  not  this  a  somewhat  striking  emblem  of 
 life  ?  We  come  into  life  ;  we  look  around 
 and  think  it,  in  our  youth,  long  and  vast; 
 but  day  after  day  it  contracts,  and  how 
 soon,  after  we  perceive  its  narrowing  limits, 
 are  we  pressed  into  the  arms  of  death,  and 
 laid  in  the  bed  of  the  grave  !  Anon. 
 
 LIFE— Signals  of. 
 
 As  on  our  railways  there  are  the  proper 
 signals  in  the  proper  places  to  denote 
 danger,  caution,  safety  ;  so,  in  life.  Divine 
 wisdom  has  caused  to  be  fixed  those  signs 
 which,  if  observed,  will  teach  the  traveller 
 to  eternity  when  he  should  stop,  because 
 the  danger  of  the  loss  of  character,  reli- 
 gion, influence,  soul,  is  there;  when  he 
 should  go  on,  with  caution  lest  perchance 
 be  may  fall  into  danger  unexpectedly ; 
 when  he  should  go  with  confidence,  free 
 from  exposure  of  any  kind.  If  tlicse  moral 
 signals  as  they  stand  in  the  Bil)le,  in  the 
 streets,  in  business,  in  the  tempers  and 
 principles  of  men,  and  in  other  things,  are 
 sufficiently  attended  to,  the  sojourner  may 
 pass  on  through  life  without  any  serious 
 loss,  and  finally  reach  in  peace  the  city  of 
 his  God.  John  Bale. 
 
 LIFE— Solemnity  of. 
 
 In  a  Sabbath  gathering  of  Quakers,  some 
 years  ago,  an  aged  and  venerable-looking 
 man  arose,  and  with  proiihet-like  authority 
 said,  "  Many  say  it  is  a  solemn  thing  to  die ; 
 but,  bethink  you  all,  and  bethink  you  well, 
 it  a  solemn  thing  to  live."  That  witness 
 was  true.  S.  Coley 
 
 LIFE— with  Some. 
 
 The  life  of  some  men  is  very  much  like 
 day  in  November,  foggy,  chilly,  and  damp 
 until  the  afternoon,  when  it  clears  off',  be- 
 comes bright  and  pleasant,  and  the  sun 
 sets  without  a  cloud,  throwing  liis  golden 
 light  over  the  broad  expanse  ot  the  heavens ; 
 an  evidence  that  he  is  shining  on  though 
 l)cyond  the  ken  of  mortals  this  side  of  the 
 globe.  John  Bate. 
 
 LIFE — Sorrows  and  Joys  of. 
 
 This  is  life.  The  sorrows  of  the  past 
 stand  out  most  vividly  in  our  recollection, 
 because  they  are  the  keenest  of  our  sensa- 
 tions. At  the  end  of  a  long  existence  we 
 should  probably  describe  it  thus,  "  Few 
 and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  thy 
 servant  been."  But  the  innumerable  in- 
 finitesimals of  happiness  that  from  moment 
 to  moment  made  life  sweet  and  pleasant, 
 are  forgotten;  and  very  richly  has  our 
 Father  mixed  the  materials  of  these  with 
 the  homeliest  actions  and  domesticities  of 
 existence.  See  two  men  meeting  together 
 in  the  streets;  mere  acquaintances.  They 
 will  not  be  five  minutes  together  before  a 
 
510 
 
 IIPE. 
 
 smile  will  overspread  their  countenances, 
 or  a  merry  laugh  ring  off,  at  the  lowest 
 amusement.  This  has  God  done.  God 
 created  the  smile  and  the  laugh,  as  well  as 
 the  sigh  and  the  tear.  The  aspect  of  this 
 life  is  stern,  very  stei'n.  It  is  a  very  super- 
 ficial account  of  it  which  slurs  over  its 
 grave  mystery,  and  refuses  to  hear  its  low, 
 deep  undertone  of  anguish.  But  there  is 
 enough,  from  hour  to  hour,  of  bright  sunny 
 happiness,  to  remind  us  that  its  Creator's 
 highest  name  is  Love.       F.  W.  Mobertson. 
 
 LIFE— a  Spring. 
 
 Let  us  look  at  spring  as  the  emblem  of 
 human  life.  The  Bible  so  regards  it. 
 "  He  Cometh  up  like  a  flower,"  &c. 
 
 First.  Both  in  spring  and  human  life  there 
 are  vast  capabilities  of  improvement.  Spring 
 is  the  season  when  Providence  submits  to 
 the  agriculturist  what  sort  of  harvest  he 
 shall  have.  With  skill  and  industry  he 
 may,  duriug  the  spring  days,  make  nature 
 yield  him  wonderful  results.  The  cloud, 
 the  sky,  the  dew,  the  shower,  the  soil  of 
 spring,  have  special  powers  for  the  future. 
 So  is  human  life.  Out  of  the  human  soul 
 noio  seraphic  powers,  and  forms,  and 
 faculties,  may  grow.  Secondly.  Both  in. 
 spring  and  human  life  there  is  remark- 
 able changeability.  No  season  so  change- 
 able as  spring;  alternate  cloud  and  sun- 
 shine, storm  and  calm,  cold  and  heat, 
 "  make  up  the  April  day."  What  an  em- 
 blem of  human  life !  What  a  scene  of  vi- 
 cissitudes !  Thirdly.  Both  in  spring  and 
 human  life  there  are  many  fallacious  pro- 
 mises. Spring  is  the  season  of  promise. 
 The  rich  bud  and  blossom  of  fruit-trees, 
 the  strong  green  stalks  of  the  cornfields, 
 have  often  created  bright  hopes,  which  in 
 autumn  have  been  terribly  disappointed. 
 So  in  life.  Look  at  youth,  &c.  Fourthly, 
 Both  in  spring  and  human  I'fe  there  is  no- 
 thing can  substitute  for  the  present.  No 
 other  season  can  do  the  work  of  spring. 
 The  man  who  neglects  his  field  in  the 
 spring  may  toil  on  it  to  the  utmost  in 
 summer  without  eftect.  So  it  is  with  life. 
 There  is  no  period  that  can  be  substituted 
 for  the  present.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 LIFE— Spiritual. 
 
 It  is  that  life  which  consists  in  commu- 
 nication with  God  ;  in  the  effluence  of  God 
 into  man's  soul ;  in  union  with  God  through 
 Christ  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  "  This  is  life 
 eternal,  that  they  might  know  Thee,  the 
 only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom 
 Thou  hast  sent."  How  "know  Thee?" 
 As  a  man  reads  in  a  book  ?  or  as  a  man 
 learns  a  language,  or  studies  a  science  ? 
 Nay,  but  as  a  man  knows  a  friend ;  knows 
 him  by  discourse,  knows  him  by  inter- 
 course, knows  him  (above  all)  by  love.  "  If 
 any  man  love  God,  the  same  (knoweth,  or 
 
 rather)  is  known  of  Him."  "  The  light  of 
 life  "  is  that  kind  of  insight  into  the  things 
 of  God  which  consists  in  acquaintance, 
 personal,  vital  acquaintance,  with  God  him- 
 self, as  alone  He  can  be  known,  in  Jesus 
 Christ — as  alone  He  can  be  known,  by  the 
 Holy  Spirit.  Dr.  C.  J.  Vaughan. 
 
 LIFE— Staff  of. 
 
 It  is  estimated  that  the  annual  wheat 
 crop  of  Europe  and  America  is  nearly 
 900,000,000  bushels.  The  average  yield  of 
 France  is  191,500,000  bushels  ;  of  Britain, 
 146,000,000;  America,  120,000,000;  Italy 
 (the  two  Sicilies  and  Sardinia),  84,000,000 ; 
 Canada,  60,500,000;  Spain,  47,000,000; 
 Austria,  28,000,000 ;  Belgium,  13,000,000; 
 Portugal,  5,500,000;  Holland,  4,000,000, 
 Denmark,  3,000,000;  Sweden  and  Norway, 
 1,200,000.  liussia  exports  only  19,000,000, 
 and  Turkey  only  5,500,000,  but  the  pro- 
 duction of  these  countries  must  be  very 
 large.  Anon. 
 
 LIFE— Sweets  and  Bitters  of. 
 
 There  is  no  desert  upon  earth  which  has 
 not  its  Elims.  Even  the  vast  wastes  of 
 central  Africa  are  known  to  engirdle  tracts 
 of  beautiful  and  densely  peopled  table- 
 land. It  is  the  broad  character  of  earth. 
 Were  it  all  Marah,  life  would  not  be 
 tolerable,  even  for  sinners  and  slaves.  Its 
 Elims  make  it  a  marching-ground  to  free- 
 men and  saints.  Marah  is  the  mark  of  the 
 curse.  God  has  burnt  His  sentence  deep 
 into  the  bosom  of  a  sin-stricken  world,  but 
 He  seeks  to  set  the  heart  of  the  sinner,  not 
 towards  the  wastes  of  desolation  in  despair, 
 but  towards  Himself  and  His  heaven  in 
 hope ;  and  He  has  brightened  the  desert  of 
 life  with  many  a  scene  of  beauty  and 
 splendour,  which  are  a  prophecy  of  the 
 better  world.  We  cannot  walk  far  on 
 earth  without  stumbling  upon  the  springs 
 of  bitterness;  but  he  who  is  led  of  God 
 shall  not  want  the  groves  and  fountains  of 
 Elim  to  cheer  and  strengthen  him  in  his 
 way.  J.  B.  Brown. 
 
 LIFE— Tediousness  of. 
 
 Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  tale, 
 Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 LIFE— True. 
 
 Secretary  Walsingham,  in  writing  to  Lord 
 Burleigh,  said,  "  We  have  lived  long  enough 
 to  our  country,  to  our  fortunes,  and  to  our 
 sovereign;  it  is  high  time  that  we  began 
 to  live  for  ourselves  and  for  our  God."  The 
 learned  and  pious  Donne,  on  his  death-bed, 
 in  taking  a  solemn  farewell  of  his  friends, 
 said,  "  1  count  all  that  part  of  my  life  lost 
 which  I  spent  not  in  communion  witli  God, 
 or  in  doing  good."  Anon. 
 
LIFE. 
 
 841 
 
 LIFE— True. 
 
 He  lives  who  lives  to  God  alone, 
 
 And  all  are  dead  beside  ; 
 For  other  source  than  God  is  none 
 
 Whence  life  can  be  supplied. 
 
 To  live  to  God  is  to  requite 
 
 His  love  as  best  we  m:iy ; 
 To  make  His  precepts  our  delight, 
 
 His  promises  our  stay. 
 
 But  life  within  a  narrow  ring 
 
 Of  giddy  joys  comprised, 
 Is  falsely  named,  and  no  such  thing. 
 But  rather  death  disguised. 
 
 Coivper. 
 LIPE— Turning-points  of. 
 
 The  switch-tender  was  weary,  and,  as  he 
 sat  at  his  post,  his  eyes  were  heavy,  and 
 he  fell  asleep.  The  train  came  thundering 
 along,  and,  as  it  neared  the  place,  the  man 
 heard  the  whistle,  and  rose  to  adjust  the 
 switch  for  the  train.  He  was  just  too  late. 
 Hp  sprang  aside  ;  the  cars  moved  on,  were 
 thrown  from  the  track,  and  a  scene  of 
 death  and  disaster  was  the  consequence. 
 
 It  was  only  a  little  switch.  A  bar  of 
 iron,  a  few  feet  iu  length,  which  opened  at 
 one  end  onli^  an  inch,  to  allow  the  tiange 
 of  the  wheels  to  pass  through  the  narrow 
 way.  Only  a  few  seconds  more  would  have 
 placed  the  little  bar  at  the  right  angle, 
 and  all  would  have  been  well.  But  the 
 few  seconds  were  lost ;  the  little  bar  was 
 out  of  place,  and  the  train,  with  its  in- 
 valuable freight  of  life  and  property,  was 
 nearly  all  buried  in  a  mass  of  death  and 
 ruin. 
 
 A  young  man  was  once  under  a  state  of 
 deep  inquiry  about  his  eternal  interests. 
 Two  or  three  of  his  companions  learned 
 that  he  was  going  to  prayer-meeting,  and 
 they  determined  to  change  his  purpose. 
 They  persuaded  him,  only  this  once,  to  go 
 to  the  accustomed  place  of  resort.  He 
 finally  yielded.  They  plied  their  arts  of 
 amusements,  gaiety,  and  pleasure,  and 
 bound  him  at  last  in  the  snares  of  a  female 
 companion.  It  was  his  fatal  moment.  In 
 a  few  weeks  from  that  time  he  had  com- 
 mitted murder,  and  followed  the  deed  with 
 instantaneous  self-destruction. 
 
 A  young  man  had  appointed  to  meet 
 some  friends  to  go  to  one  of  the  public 
 gardens  in  London  on  Sunday  evening. 
 While  waiting  at  the  place  assigned  for 
 rendezvous  in  one  of  the  streets,  a  Christian 
 friend,  a  lady,  passed  by,  and  asked  him 
 ■where  he  was  going.  He  was  ashamed  to 
 confess  his  intention,  and  readily  yielded 
 to  her  invitation  to  go  with  her  to  church. 
 It  was  the  turning-point  with  him.  He 
 was  arrested  by  Divine  truth,  was  brought 
 under  a  sense  of  sin,  became  a  Christian — 
 a  faithful  missionary,  a  devoted  and  exalted 
 hero,  and  apostle  of  Christ — and  died  a 
 
 martyr  on  the  shores  of  Errotnango,  a 
 victim  to  heathen  rage,  but  a  sacrifice  of 
 love  to  his  Redeemer.  It  was  John  Wil- 
 liams the  missionary. 
 
 A  young  man  went  to  visit  his  friends  on 
 New  Tear's  day,  according  to  the  custom 
 of  New  York.  He  had  abandoned  the  in- 
 toxicating cup.  He  had  sufl'ered  from  its 
 evils,  and  was  a  sworn  total  abstinent.  He 
 uniformly  refused  to  taste  or  handle,  until 
 he  called  upon  a  young  lady  who,  finding 
 her  invitations  all  declined,  began  to  banter 
 him  with  a  want  of  manhood,  and  plied 
 her  ridicule  so  far  that  he  at  last  yielded. 
 It  was  the  setting  of  the  switch.  He  was 
 taken  home  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  and 
 a  few  months  afterwards  he  died,  uttering 
 terrible  curses  upon  the  tempter  who  had 
 been  the  cause  of  his  ruin. 
 
 A  young  man  who  had  been  prayerfully 
 trained  came  to  the  city  to  enter  a  place 
 of  business.  His  fellow-clerks  invited  him 
 to  join  in  their  pleasures  and  pastimes. 
 For  a  time  he  resisted,  but  at  length  he 
 thought  he  would  go  to  the  theatre,  only 
 once,  just  to  please  his  friends,  and  see  what 
 a  theatre  was.  The  devil  was  the  switch- 
 tender  that  night,  and  the  course  of  that 
 young  man  subsequently  lay  through  the 
 paths  of  extravagance,  gambling,  shame, 
 and  the  grave. 
 
 Two  young  men  were  walking  along  one 
 evening  toward  a  prayer-meeting,  when 
 they  were  accosted  by  several  acquaintances, 
 who  were  on  their  way  to  a  place  of  usual 
 resort.  They  entreated  them  to  join  them, 
 but  they  refused.  Finally  one  of  them  con- 
 sented, and  turned  aside,  only  once  more, 
 for  an  evening  of  worldly  pleasure,  and  let 
 his  friend  go  to  the  prayer-meeting  alone. 
 One  found  peace  with  God  ;  but  his  com- 
 panion became  hardened,  and  in  three 
 months,  while  his  associate  on  that  event- 
 ful night  was  honouring  his  Master  by  his 
 faithful  and  consistent  life,  he  was  the  in- 
 mate of  a  prison,  awaiting  the  penalty  of 
 the  law. 
 
 Our  life  is  full  of  these  turning-points  of 
 fortune  and  of  ill,  of  peace  and  of  woe,  of 
 life  eternal,  or  of  despair  and  death.  The 
 track  we  travel  has  a  switch  at  almost 
 every  step.  We  need  to  have  them  well 
 guarded.  The  eye  must  be  kept  open. 
 The  hand  must  be  steady.  The  arm  must 
 be  strong.  The  soul  should  be  well  armed, 
 so  that  it  may  be  prepared  for  every  at- 
 tack, or  for  every  expedient  of  the  enemy. 
 Life,  honour,  virtue,  success,  and  immor- 
 tality, are  before  us.  Little  things,  at  first 
 unaccounted  of,  may  lead  to  the  other 
 extreme !  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 Lady  Huntingdon,  one  evening,  was  on 
 her  way  to  a  brilliant  assembly,  when  sud- 
 denly there  darted  into  her  soul  these 
 words — "  Man's  chief  end  is  to  glorify  God 
 
542 
 
 IIPE. 
 
 and  to  enjoy  Him  for  ever;"  wliicli  she 
 had  committed  to  memory  years  before  in 
 learning  the  Westminster  Shorter  Cate- 
 chism. From  that  hour  her  whole  life 
 revolved  round  a  new  centre.  The  guilty, 
 trembling  sinner,  hitherto  occupied  with 
 her  poor  self,  gazed  on  the  face  of  Him 
 who  died  for  her ;  and  as  she  gazed,  her 
 conscience  found  peace,  and  her  heart  a 
 satisfying  rest.  Her  whole  life  became 
 one  "  living  sacrifice."  J.  Baillie. 
 
 With  the  robber,  it  was  not  when  he 
 presented  the  pistol  to  his  victim's  breast 
 in  that  last  act  of  infamy  for  which  he  was 
 condemned  to  be  hung.  When  the  chap- 
 lain inquired  of  him  what  had  brought 
 him  to  that  dreadful  end,  he  replied, 
 "  When  I  was  a  schoolboy,  I  stole  a  gold 
 pin  ;  and  oh,"  said  he,  "  I  would  have  given 
 the  world,  the  moment  it  was  done,  if  it 
 had  been  back  again.  But  I  was  not  de- 
 tected, and  did  not  return  it.  I  was  em- 
 boldened in  sin.  I  next  took  a  knife; 
 then  a  roll  of  cloth,  &c.,  and  here  I  am." 
 The  strup:gle  of  conscience  was  in  his  first 
 act  of  transgression,  and  he  was  lost  to 
 virtue  from  that  hour. 
 
 Look  now  at  Washington.  How  glorious 
 his  career  in  the  Revolution,  and  how 
 trauscendently  so  the  hour  when  he  stood 
 before  Congress  to  deliver  up  to  them  his 
 sword,  his  commission,  and  his  authority, 
 and  return  to  his  farm.  But  that  was  not 
 the  crisis  with  him.  With  his  character, 
 he  could  not  have  done  otherwise  on  that 
 occasion.  We  must  look  far  back  into  the 
 nursery  to  find  the  moment  that  formed 
 him  for  unparalleled  greatness.  When  he 
 confessed  his  fault  in  the  matter  of  the 
 cherry-tree  ;  or  ordered  his  trunks  brought 
 back,  when  his  heart  was  set  upon  going 
 to  sea,  saying,  "  I  will  not  grieve  a  mother's 
 heart ;"  then  were  established  in  him  the 
 principles  of  his  future  renown. 
 
 In  like  manner  the  soul  may  receive  its 
 character  for  immortality  far  back  of  those 
 marked  external  acts  which  m»ke  it  appa- 
 rent to  the  person  and  the  world.       A)wn. 
 
 LIFE— Universality  of. 
 
 Wherever  life  can  be  sustained  we  find 
 life  produced.  Wherever  circumstances  are 
 compatible  with  vegetable  existence,  we 
 there  find  plants  arise.  If  we  review  every 
 region  of  the  globe,  from  the  scorching 
 sands  of  the  equator  to  the  icj'  realms  of 
 the  poles,  or  from  the  lofty  mountain-sum- 
 mits to  the  dark  abysses  of  the  deep ;  if  we 
 penetrate  into  the  shades  of  the  forest,  or 
 into  the  caverns  and  secret  recesses  of  the 
 earth;  nay,  if  we  take  up  the  minutest 
 portion  of  stagnant  water,  we  still  meet 
 with  life  in  some  new  and  unexpected  form, 
 yet  ever  adapted  to  the  circumstauL'es  of 
 its  situation.     The  vegetable  world  is  no 
 
 less  prolific  in  wonders  than  the  animal. 
 Here,  also,  we  are  lost  in  admiration  at  tlie 
 never-ending  variety  of  forms  successively 
 displayed  to  view  in  the  innumerable 
 species  which  compose  this  kingdom  of 
 nature,  and  at  the  energy  of  that  vegetable 
 power  which,  amidst  such  great  diflerences 
 of  situation,  sustains  the  modified  life  of 
 each  individual  plant,  and  which  continues 
 its  species  in  endless  perpetuity.  It  is  well 
 known  that  in  all  places  where  vegetation 
 has  been  established,  the  germs  are  so 
 intermingled  with  the  soil,  that  whenever 
 the  earth  is  turned  up,  even  from  consider- 
 able depths,  and  exposed  to  the  air,  plants 
 are  soon  observed  to  spring,  as  if  they  had 
 been  recently  sown,  in  consequence  of  the 
 gemnination  of  seeds  which  had  remained 
 latent  and  inactive  during  the  lapse  of, 
 perhaps,  many  centuries.  Islands  formed 
 by  coral-reefs,  which  have  risen  above  the 
 level  of  the  sea,  become,  in  a  short  time, 
 covered  with  verdure.  From  the  materials 
 of  the  most  sterile  rock,  and  even  from  the 
 yet  recent  cinders  and  lava  of  the  volcano, 
 nature  prepares  the  way  for  vegetable 
 existence.  The  slightest  crevice  or  in- 
 equality is  suflacient  to  arrest  the  invisible 
 germs  that  are  always  floating  in  the  air, 
 and  affords  the  means  of  sustenance  to 
 diminutive  races  of  lichens  and  mosses. 
 These  soon  overspread  the  surface,  and  are 
 followed,  in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  by 
 successive  tribes  of  plants  of  gradually  in- 
 creasing size  and  strength,  till  at  length 
 the  island,  or  other  favoured  spot,  is  con- 
 verted into  a  natural  and  luxuriant  garden, 
 of  which  the  productions,  rising  from 
 grasses  to  shrubs  and.  trees,  present  all  the 
 varieties  of  the  fertile  meadow,  the  tangled 
 thicket,  and  the  widely-spreading  forest. 
 Even  in  the  desert  plains  of  the  torrid  zone, 
 the  eye  of  the  traveller  is  often  refreshed 
 by  the  appearance  of  a  few  hardy  plants, 
 which  find  sufiieient  materials  for  their 
 growth  in  these  arid  regions ;  and  in  the 
 realms  of  perpetual  snow  which  surround 
 the  poles,  the  navigator  is  occasionally 
 startled  at  the  prospect  of  fields  of  a  scarlet 
 hue,  the  result  of  a  wide  expanse  of  micro- 
 scopic vegetation.  Dr.  Roget. 
 
 LIFE— Vicissitudes  of. 
 
 Consider  the  state  of  this  present  life : 
 A  true  dream  which  hath  only  the  dis- 
 turbances,  but  never  the  rest  of  sleep ;  a 
 childish  sport,  a  toil  of  burthensome  and 
 ever-relapsing  actions,  where  for  some  one 
 rose  we  meet  with  a  thousand  thorns;  for 
 one  ounce  of  honey  a  ton  of  gall ;  for  aj)- 
 parent  good,  real  evil.  The  happiest  here 
 may  number  their  years,  but  not  their 
 cares ;  the  paths  here  to  the  highest  honours 
 are  all  ice,  and  often  bordered  only  by 
 precii)ices.  Its  felicities  are  floating 
 islands,    which    always    retire    when    we 
 
LIFE— LIGHT 
 
 543 
 
 but  offer  to  touch  them  ;  they  are  the  feast 
 of  Heliogahalus,  where  are  many  invita- 
 tions, many  ceremonies,  many  compliments, 
 many  services,  and  at  the  end  of  all  this, 
 we  find  a  table  and  banquet  of  wax,  which 
 melts  at  the  fire,  whence  we  return  more 
 hungry  than  we  came.  It  is  the  enchanted 
 egg  of  Oromares,  in  which  that  impostor 
 boasted  that  he  had  enclosed  all  the  hap- 
 piness of  the  world;  but  broken,  there 
 was  found  nothing  but  wind. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 O  world  !  so  few  the  years  we  live, 
 Would  that  the  liie  which  thou  dost  give 
 
 Were  life  indeed ! 
 Alas  !  thy  sorrows  fall  so  fast, 
 Our  happiest  hour  is  when  at  last 
 
 The  soul  is  freed. 
 Our  days  are  covered  o'er  with  grief 
 And  sorrows  neither  few  nor  brief 
 
 Veil  all  in  gloom  ; 
 Left  desolate  of  real  good. 
 Within  this  cheerless  solitude 
 
 No  pleasures  bloom. 
 Thy  pilgrimage  begins  in  tears. 
 And  ends  in  bitter  doubts  and  fears. 
 
 Or  dark  despair ; 
 Midway  so  many  toils  appear. 
 That  he  who  lingers  longest  here 
 
 Knows  most  of  care. 
 Thy  goods  are  bought  with  many  a  groan. 
 By  the  hot  sweat  of  toil  alone. 
 
 And  weary  hearts; 
 Fleet-footed  is  the  approach  of  woe, 
 But  with  a  lingering  step  and  slow 
 
 Its  form  departs.  Longfelloio. 
 
 LIFE— as  Water. 
 
 We  are  as  water,  weak,  and  of  no  con- 
 sistence, always  descending,  abiding  in  no 
 certain  place,  unless  where  we  are  detained 
 with  violence;  and  every  little  breath  of 
 wind  makes  us  rough  and  tempestuous, 
 and  troubles  our  faces  ;  every  triiling  acci- 
 dent discomposes  us;  and,  as  the  fece  of 
 the  waters  wafting  in  a  storm,  so  wrinkles 
 itself,  that  it  makes  upon  its  forehead  fur- 
 rows deep  and  hollow  like  a  grave  :  so  do 
 our  great  and  little  cares  and  trifles  first 
 make  the  wrinkles  of  old  age,  and  then 
 they  dig  a  grave  for  us.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 LIFE— Wave  of. 
 
 Whither,  thou  turbid  wave  ? 
 Whither,  with  so  much  haste. 
 As  if  a  thief  wert  thou  ? 
 
 I  am  the  wave  of  life. 
 Stained  with  my  margin's  dust ; 
 From  the  struggle  and  the  strife 
 Of  the  narrow  stream  I  fly 
 To  the  sea's  immensity, 
 To  wash  from  me  the  slime 
 Of  the  muddy  banks  of  Time. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 LIFE— as  Wind. 
 
 1.  The  v/ind  passeth  away  speedily :  so 
 doth  the  life  of  man.  "  My  life  is  wind  " 
 (Job  vii,  7). 
 
 2.  The  wind  passeth  irresistibly ;  you 
 cannot  stop  it :  so  the  life  of  man. 
 
 3.  The  wind,  when  it  is  past,  returns  no 
 more :  so  when  the  life  of  man  is  gone,  it 
 no  more  returns.  "  He  remembered  that 
 they  were  but  flesh,"  a  wind  that  passeth 
 away.  Keavh. 
 
 LIFE— Wonderful. 
 
 It  is  a  wonderful  thing — life,  ever  grow- 
 ing old,  yet  ever  young ;  ever  dying,  ever 
 being  born ;  cut  down  and  destroyed  by 
 accident,  by  violence,  by  pestilence,  by 
 famine,  preying  remorselessly  and  insatia- 
 bly upon  itself,  yet  multiplying  and  ex- 
 tending still,  and  filling  every  spot  of 
 earth  on  which  it  once  obtains  a  footing ; 
 so  delicate,  so  feeble,  so  dependent  upon 
 fostering  circumstances  and  the  kindly 
 care  of  nature,  yet  so  invincible  ;  endowed 
 as  if  with  supernatural  powers,  like  spirits 
 of  the  air,  which  yield  to  every  touch  and 
 seem  to  elude  our  force ;  subsisting  by 
 means  impalpable  to  our  grosser  sense,  yet 
 wielding  powers  which  the  mightiest  agen- 
 cies obey.  Weakest  and  strongest  of  the 
 things  that  God  has  made,  life  is  the  heir 
 of  death,  and  yet  his  conqueror.  Victim 
 and  victor.  All  living  things  succumb  to 
 death's  assault ;  life  smiles  at  his  impotence, 
 and  makes  the  grave  her  cradle. 
 
 J.  Slnton. 
 LIGHT— Christian. 
 
 "  Among  whom  ye  shine  as  lights  in  the 
 world  "  (Phil,  ii,  15).  The  image  here  is 
 not  improbably  taken  from  lighthouses  on 
 a  sea  coast.  As  those  lighthouses  are 
 placed  on  a  dangerous  coast  to  apprise 
 vessels  of  their  peril,  and  to  save  them 
 from  shipwreck,  so  the  light  of  Cliristiau 
 piety  shines  on  a  dark  world,  and  on  the 
 dangers  of  the  voyage  which  we  are 
 making.  Barnes. 
 
 LIGHT  (CHEISTIAN)— Spread  of. 
 
 You  have  noticed  the  lighting  of  the 
 streets  or  of  a  public  building, — how  when 
 the  first  lamp  is  lit  it  is  plainly  seen,  and 
 disperses  in  part  the  surrounding  darkness ; 
 but  when  the  second,  third,  fourth,  and  all 
 the  lamps  are  lit,  the  light  meets  light, 
 ray  blends  with  ray,  until  the  whole  place 
 is  illuminated.  Thus  it  is  with  the  spread 
 of  Christian  light.  The  light  of  life  shin- 
 ing from  one  believer  joins  and  blends  with 
 that  of  another;  the  light  of  one  neigh- 
 bourhood with  an  adjoining  one  ;  the  light 
 of  nation  with  nation,  until  the  whole 
 world  becomes  filled  with  the  light  of  the 
 glorious  Gospel  of  the  blessed  Gcd. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
5i4 
 
 LIGHT. 
 
 LIGHT— in  Darkness. 
 
 The  sun's  bright  rays  are  hidden. 
 
 The  rains  in  floods  descend  ; 
 The  winds  with  angry  murmurs 
 
 The  stoutest  branches  bend. 
 A  gloom  the  face  of  nature 
 
 As  witli  a  pall  doth  shroud; 
 Its  influence  all  are  feeling, 
 
 But,  look  beyond  the  cloud  ! 
 
 For  lo  !  at  length  appeareth 
 
 A  little  streak  of  light. 
 Increasing  every  moment 
 
 Till  all  again  is  bright. 
 So,  however  dark  our  prospects, 
 
 Howe'er  by  grief  we're  bowed, 
 It  will  not  last  for  ever ; 
 
 We'U  look  beyond  the  cloud.      Anon. 
 
 LIGHT— Divine. 
 
 God  is  light  in  three  senses — 1.  Of  ab- 
 solute clearness,  in  His  infinite  wisdom  and 
 knowledge.  2.  Of  exact  purity,  in  the 
 perfect  rectitude  of  His  will.  3.  Of  gra- 
 cious diffusion,  in  the  communication  of 
 Himself  to  His  creatures,  and  to  the 
 Church  especially.  Bp.  Mall. 
 
 God  is  called  light  (1  John  i,  5),  by  which 
 His  majesty,  holiness,  perfection,  and  bless- 
 edness is  noted ;  as,  when  celestial  light  is 
 transmitted  to  us,  there  is  nothing  fairer, 
 clearer,  purer, or  more  comfortable:  whence 
 it  is  said  (Eccl.  xi,  7),  "  Truly  the  light  is 
 sweet,  and  a  pleasant  thing  it  is  for  the 
 eyes  to  behold  the  sun."  Keach. 
 
 LIGHT— FoUowing  the. 
 
 If  a  man  whose  body  was  radiant  and 
 bright  as  tlie  sun  were  walking  through  a 
 land  of  Egyptian  darkne-s,  all  who  fol- 
 lowed him  would  actually  walk  in  the 
 light,  and  the  closer  they  kept  to  him  the 
 clearer  their  light  would  be  and  the  safer 
 their  road.  He  who  follows  Christ  fol- 
 lows One  from  whom  light  streams  upon 
 the  road  we  are  to  go — an  illuminated  Man 
 — laying  bare  its  hidden  pitfalls,  discover- 
 ing its  stumbling-stones,  showing  all  its 
 turnings  and  windings,  and  enabling  us  to 
 walk  safely,  surely,  and  cheerfully  on  our 
 way  (John  viii,  12).  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 LIGHT— Life  in. 
 
 What  is  light?  It  is  "life."  It  is 
 Christ  himself:  He  is  the  Light :  you 
 shall  have  Him :  and  having  Him,  you 
 shall  find  that  your  soul  lives  because  of 
 Him  ;  that  in  secret,  and  by  a  course 
 which  you  trace  not,  something  is  given 
 to  your  soul  which  makes  it  live ;  live  as  it 
 never  lived  before ;  live  a  new,  a  higher,  a 
 Divine  life ;  live  a  life  inside  and  above 
 this  life  ;  a  life  independent  of  chance  and 
 change,  independent  of  kindness  or  un- 
 kindness,  of  love  or  coldne^is,  from  those 
 
 around  you,  independent  of  time  and  sense, 
 of  circumstances  and  possessions  ;  because 
 hidden  in  God,  where  Christ  himself  is,  at 
 the  right  hand  of  God.  "  And  when 
 Christ,  who  is  our  Life,  shall  appear,  then 
 shall  ye  also  appear  with  Him  in  glory." 
 
 "  I  am  the  Light  of  the  world  :  and  he 
 that  foUoweth  me  shall  have  the  light  of 
 life."  Dr.  C.  J.  Vaughan. 
 
 LIGHT— Manifestations  of. 
 
 As  the  e;irth,  either  in  its  barrenness  or 
 fruitfulness,  in  its  beauties  or  deformities, 
 can  only  be  seen  by  the  light  of  the  sun ; 
 so  man  can  only  discover  his  true  moral 
 character  before  God  by  the  light  which 
 shines  upon  him  from  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
 ness. Although  the  sun  gives  light  to  the 
 moon  and  other  planets,  yet  the  sun  itself 
 is  not  seen  by  the  light  of  the  planets. 
 The  sun  must  appear  himself  in  the 
 heavens  ;  and  only  by  his  own  direct  light 
 can  we  see  him.  All  the  light  of  reason  in 
 the  heathen  world  was  given  by  God,  but 
 none  of  it  manifested  Him.  Not  until  He 
 showed  Himself  in  the  revelation  of  the 
 Scriptures  and  of  His  Son  could  the  world 
 see  God  in  a  true  light.  John  Bate. 
 
 LIGHT— Origin  of. 
 
 Hail,  holy  light,  offspring  of  heaven  first 
 
 born. 
 Or  of  the  ethereal  co-eternal  beam  ! 
 May  I  express  thee  unblam'd  ?    since  God 
 
 is  light. 
 And  never  but  in  unapproached  light 
 Dwelt  from  eternity,  dwelt  then  in  thee. 
 Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence,  increate. 
 MiUon. 
 LIGHT— Refusing. 
 
 I  once  happened  to  be  on  a  visit  to  a 
 great  castle  situate  on  the  top  of  a  hill. 
 There  was  a  steep  cliff,  at  the  bottom  of 
 which  was  a  i-apid  river.  Late  one  night 
 there  was  a  woman  anxious  to  get  home 
 from  that  castle  in  the  midst  of  a  thunder- 
 storm. The  night  was  blackness  itself  j 
 the  woman  was  asked  to  stop  till  the  storm 
 was  over,  but  she  declined;  next  they 
 begged  her  to  take  a  lantern,  that  she 
 might  be  able  to  keep  upon  the  road  from 
 the  castle  to  her  home.  She  said  she  did 
 not  require  a  lantern,  but  could  do  very 
 well  without  one.  She  went.  Perhaps 
 she  was  frightened  by  the  storm — I  know 
 not  the  cause — but  in  the  midst  of  the 
 darkness  she  wandered  from  the  path  and 
 fell  over  the  clitt".  The  next  day  that 
 swollen  river  washed  to  the  shore  the  poor 
 lil'eless  body  of  this  foolish  woman  !  How 
 many  foolish  ones  are  there  who,  when  the 
 light  is  offered  them,  only  say,  "  I  am  not 
 afraid ;  I  fear  not  my  end !"  and  how 
 many  have  perished  because  they  have 
 refused  the  light  of  God's  truth,  which 
 
IIGHT— LITTLE  EVEMTS  AND  GREAT  EVENTS. 
 
 545 
 
 would  have  guided  tliem  on  the  road  to 
 heaven.  Bp.  Villiers. 
 
 LIGHT— Safety  in. 
 
 A  thrilling  story  is  told,  in  a  late  record 
 of  Indian  life  ('  My  Indian  Journal '),  which 
 seems  to  carry  with  it  an  authentication 
 not  to  be  gainsaid. 
 
 A  native  hunter  passed  a  whole  night 
 ■within  a  few  paces  of  a  wounded  tiger. 
 The  man's  bare  knees  were  pressed  upon 
 the  hard  gravel,  but  he  dared  not  shift, 
 even  by  a  hair's  breadth,  his  uneasy  pos- 
 ture. A  bush  was  between  hira  and  the 
 wild  beast :  ever  and  anon  the  tiger,  as  he 
 lay  with  glaring  eyes  fixed  upon  it,  uttered 
 his  hoarse  growl  of  anger ;  his  hot  breath 
 absolutely  blew  upon  the  cheek  of  the 
 wretched  man,  and  still  he  moved  not, 
 the  pain  of  that  cramped  position  increased 
 every  moment — suspense  became  almost 
 intolerable ;  but  the  motion  of  a  limb,  the 
 rustling  of  a  leaf,  would  have  been  death. 
 He  heard  the  gong  of  the  village  strike 
 each  hour  of  that  fearful  night,  that  seemed 
 to  him  an  "eternity,  and  yet  he  lived." 
 The  tormenting  mosquitoes  swarmed 
 jH-ound  his  face,  but  he  dared  not  brush 
 them  off.  That  fiendlike  eye  met  his  when- 
 ever he  ventured  a  glance  towards  the 
 horrid  spell  that  bound  him;  and  a  hoarse 
 growl  grated  on  the  stillness  of  the  night, 
 as  a  passing  breeze  stirred  the  leaves  that 
 sheltered  him.  Hours  rolled  on,  and  his 
 powers  of  endurance  were  wellnigh  ex- 
 hausted; when,  at  length,  the  welcome 
 streaks  of  light  shot  up  from  the  eastern 
 horizon.  On  the  approach  of  day  the 
 tiger  rose,  and  stalked  away  with  a  sulky 
 pace  to  a  thicket  at  some  distance — and 
 the  stiff  and  wearied  watcher  felt  that  he 
 was  safe.  Br.  C.  J.  Vaughan. 
 
 LIGHT— Shadowing  of. 
 
 Light  makes  some  things  invisible. 
 Were  it  not  for  darkness,  and  the  shadow 
 of  the  earth,  the  noblest  part  of  creation 
 had  remained  unseen,  and  the  stars  of 
 heaven  as  invisible  as  on  the  fourth  day, 
 wlien  they  were  created  above  the  horizon 
 with  the  sun,  and  there  was  not  an  eye  to 
 behold  them.  Tlie  greatest  mystery  of  re- 
 ligiim  is  expressed  by  admiration ;  and  in 
 the  noblest  part  of  Jewish  types  we  find 
 the  cherubim  shadowing  the  mercy-seat. 
 Life  itself  is  but  the  shadow  of  death,  and 
 souls  departed  but  the  shadow  of  the 
 living.  AH  things  fall  under  this  name. 
 Tiie  sun  itself  is  but  the  dark  Simulachrune, 
 and  light  but  the  shadow  of  God. 
 
 Sir  T.  Brown. 
 LIGHT— Spiritual. 
 Lord  !  we  sit  and  cry  to  Thee 
 
 Like  the  blind  beside  the  way : 
 Make  our  darken'd  souls  to  see 
 
 The  glory  of  Thy  perfect  day ! 
 
 Lord,  rebuke  our  sullen  night. 
 And  give  Thyself  unto  our  sight! 
 Lord !  we  do  not  ask  to  gaze 
 
 On  our  dim  and  earthly  sun ; 
 But  the  light  that  still  shall  blaze 
 
 When  every  star  its  course  hath  run, 
 The  light  that  gilds  Thy  blest  abode, 
 The  glory  of  the  Lamb  of  God.       Mllman, 
 
 LIGHT— Temporal. 
 
 We  should  render  thanks  to  God  for 
 having  pi-oduced  this  temporal  light,  which 
 is  the  smile  of  Heaven  and  joy  of  the 
 world,  spreading  it  like  cloth  of  gold  over 
 the  face  of  the  air  and  earth,  and  lighting 
 it  as  a  torch,  by  which  we  might  behold 
 His  works.  Caussin. 
 
 LIGHT  OP  NATUEE— Insufficient. 
 
 The  only  way  to  judge  of  the  sufficiency, 
 on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  defects  on  the 
 other,  of  the  light  of  nature,  is  to  examine 
 whether  it  brightly  shined,  or  was  greatly 
 shaded,  in  such  as  had  nothing  else  to 
 illuminate  them,  and  who  yet  had  as  clear 
 intellectuals  as  great  knowledge  of  the 
 world,  as  any  now;  and  who,  in  learning 
 and  politeness,  exceeded  many  of  our  new 
 luminaries,  or  rather  comets,  who,  instead 
 of  increasing  our  light,  weary  the  world, 
 and  spread  error  and  irreligion.  If  it  is 
 thus  tried,  the  light  of  nature  will  not  be 
 found  to  resemble  the  sun,  when,  crowned 
 with  surpassing  glory,  it  illuminates  the 
 earth,  but  rather  to  be  like  it,  when,  in 
 dim  eclipse,  it  sheds  gloom  and  twilight 
 over  some  parts  of  the  w^orld,  and  so  puzzles 
 and  perplexes  such  as  are  not  acquainted 
 with  the  natural  causes  of  its  being  dark- 
 ened, and  throws  them  into  a  state  of 
 doubt  and  uncertainty.     Abraham  Taylor. 
 
 LITTLE  EVENTS  AND  GREAT  EVENTS. 
 
 It  is  an  undisputed  historical  fact,  that 
 Mohammed,  when  pursued  by  his  enemies, 
 ere  his  religion  had  gained  a  footing  in 
 the  world,  took  refuge  in  a  certain  cave. 
 To  the  mouth  of  this  cave  his  pursuers 
 traced  him ;  but  when  they  were  on  the 
 very  point  of  entering,  their  attention  was 
 arrested  by  a  little  bird  starting  from  an 
 adjoining  thicket.  Had  it  not  been  for 
 this  circumstance,  the  most  trivial  that 
 can  well  be  conceived,  which  convinced 
 them  that  there  the  fugitive  could  not  be 
 concealed,  Mohammed  would  have  been 
 discovered,  and  he  and  his  imposture  must 
 have  perished  together.  As  it  was,  he 
 efl'ected  his  escape,  gained  the  protection 
 of  his  friends,  and  by  the  most  artful 
 course  of  conduct,  succeeded  in  laying  the 
 foundation  of  a  religion  which  now  pre- 
 vails over  a  large  portion  of  the  world,  and 
 numbers  among  its  votaries  the  inhabit.ants 
 of  lands  neither  insignificant  in  the  map 
 of  the  world,  nor  unimportant  in  their 
 35 
 
546 
 
 LITTLE  SINS— LITTLE  THING. 
 
 political  relations.  Thus,  in  the  flight  of 
 a  sparrow  may  be  traced  the  establishment 
 of  a  delusion  wliose  moral  influence  has 
 been  ielt  over  1000  years,  and  which  will 
 probably  continue  to  exert  a  baneful  in- 
 fluence over  many  a  people  till  the  king- 
 doms of  this  world  become  the  kingdoms 
 of  the  Lord,  and  of  His  Christ.  Who, 
 then,  can  tell  what  great  events,  evil  or 
 good,  may  be  contingent  on  some,  as  it 
 api^ears,  insiguiflcant  occurrence,  and  to 
 what  circumstance  may  we  venture  to  give 
 the  name  of  trifling?  Anon. 
 
 LITTLE  SINS. 
 
 Oh,  how  little  it  takes  to  soil  the  windows 
 of  the  soul,  and  to  dim  and  blurr  the 
 spiritual  landscape  !  How  small  the  worm 
 needed  to  wither  and  blight  the  gourd  of 
 our  spiritual  joys  I  How  little  it  takes  to 
 rust  the  key  of  prayer,  clip  the  wings  of 
 f;Hth,  chill  the  warmth  of  love,  and  shut 
 us  out  from  the  loving  ear  of  God !      Ibid. 
 
 LITTLE  SINS— Influence  of. 
 
 Little  sins  are  as  really  sinful  as  larger. 
 They  are  foxes,  and  they  spoil  the  vines. 
 One  flaw  ruins  us  iji  the  eye  of  God.  We 
 recognise  and  act  upon  this  in  other  things  ; 
 sad  and  strange  that  we  should  fail  to  do 
 so  in  higher.  "  Who  does  not  see  that  the 
 tiniest  flaw  or  fracture  in  a  diamond  vitiates 
 the  whole  gem,  be  it  a  very  Koh-i-noor — 
 that  the  smallest  streak  or  stain  sets  aside 
 the  marble  block  of  Carrara,  that  is  like 
 the  driven  snow — that  the  slightest  spot 
 or  speck  dims  to  rejection  the  whole 
 polished  lens — that  the  most  insignificant 
 leak  is  perilous  ?"  In  these  cases  it  will 
 not  arrest  the  verdict  to  allege  the  fault  is 
 so  very  small.  Actual  transactions  estab- 
 lish this.  Once  a  famous  ruby  was  offered 
 to  this  country.  The  report  of  the  crown 
 jeweller  was,  that  it  was  the  finest  that  he 
 had  ever  seen  or  heard  of,  bid  tliat  one  of 
 its  facets — one  of  the  "  little"  cuttings  of 
 the  face — was  slightly  fractured.  The 
 result  was,  that  almost  invisible  flaw  re- 
 duced its  value  by  thousands  of  pounds, 
 and  it  was  rejected  from  the  regalia  of 
 England.  Again  :  when  Canova  was  about 
 to  commence  his  great  statue  of  the  great 
 Napoleon,  his  keenly  observant  eye  detected 
 a  tiny  red  line  running  through  the  upper 
 portion  of  the  splendid  block,  that  at  in- 
 finite cost  liad  been  fetched  from  Paros, 
 and  he  refused  to  lay  a  chisel  on  it.  Once 
 more:  in  the  story  of  the  early  struggles 
 of  the  elder  Herschel,  while  he  was  work- 
 ing out  the  problem  of  gigantic  specula  or 
 telescope  lenses,  you  will  find  that  he 
 made  scores  upon  scores  ere  he  got  one  to 
 satisfy  him.  A  scratch  like  the  slenderest 
 pider-line  sufficed  to  vitiate  what  had  cost 
 him  lung  weelcs  of  toil  and  anxiety.  Again, 
 iu  the  "  leak"  of  a  ship,  the  measure   of 
 
 the  ship  to  resist  the  shock  of  wave  or  the 
 strain  of  wind  is  not  its  strongest  but  its 
 weakest  part. 
 
 The  tremendous  issues  contingent  on 
 the  attention  or  non-attention  to  the 
 slightest  "  leak,"  was  illustrated  in  a  recent 
 incident  in  the  present  deplorable  civil  war 
 in  America.  One  of  the  Federal  war-ships 
 had  what  seemed  a  merely  superficial "  lealj- 
 age,"  and,  though  noticed,  it  was  not 
 thought  necessary  to  countermand  the 
 order  that  she  should  take  part  in  an  ap- 
 proaching conflict.  At  the  crisis  of  the 
 encounter  it  was  found  that  the  sea-water 
 had  got  oozing  into  the  gunpowder  maga- 
 zine, and  rendered  nearly  the  whole  useless. 
 On  that  powder  hung  victory  or  defeat. 
 The  "  tittle  leak"  went  uncared  for,  and  an 
 inferior  force  won. 
 
 I  would  have  you  see  and  know  assuredly 
 that  nothing  in  or  about  sin  can  be — except 
 in  the  relation  of  words — "  little ;"  that 
 sin  is  and  ever  must  be  sin,  and  sin  only, 
 and  sin  absolutely,  and  sin  eternally.  The 
 smallest  neglected  spark  of  fire  has  flashed 
 out  into  a  conflagration ;  the  smallest  neg- 
 lected leak  has  simk  the  proudest  ship ;  the 
 smallest  neglected  sickness  has  "brought 
 down"  tothe'grave;  and  the  smallest  con- 
 sciously neglected,  unconfessed,  and  there- 
 fore unpardoned  sin  will  lose  you,  0  man ! 
 0  woman !  thy  soul !  Only  when  our  sin 
 has  been  carried  to  the  Lord,  in  penitent 
 confession  been  placed  beneath  the  "  sprink- 
 ling blood,"  is  there  deliverance. 
 
 Spencer,  in  his  "  Things  New  and  Old," 
 furnishes  us  with  a  quaint  but  pat  citation 
 from  Ludovicus  de  Granada : — "  By  tlie 
 want  of  one  nail  the  iron  shoe  is  lost;  and 
 the  shoe  being  lost,  the  horse  fuUeth ;  and 
 the  horse  falling,  the  rider  perisheth.  Such 
 are.  the  dangers  that  he  incurreth  that 
 neglecteth  '  small  things.'  The  neglect  of 
 the  lesser  maketh  way  but  for  the  greater 
 evil;  and  he  that  setteth  light  by  'small 
 things,'  falleth  by  'little  and  little.'"  Also 
 another,  even  more  apposite,  from  Philip- 
 pus  Boskierus,  "A  little  rope  sufliceth  to 
 hang  a  great  thief;  a  little  dross  abaseth 
 much  gold;  a  little  poison  infeeteth  much 
 wholesome  liquor;  a  little  heresie  cor- 
 rupteth  much  sound  doctrine ;  a  little  fly 
 is  enough  to  spoil  all  the  alabaster  box  of 
 ointment.  So  the  smallest  sin,  the  least 
 peccadillo,  without  God's  mekcy,  is 
 sufficient  to  damn  our  souls  to  all  eternity." 
 Grosart. 
 LITTLE  SINS— MultipHcation  of. 
 
 Little  sins  multiplied  become  great. 
 There  is  nothing  less  than  a  grain  of  sand 
 — there  is  nothing  heavier  than  the  sand 
 of  the  sea  when  multiplied.         T.  Brooks. 
 
 LITTLE  THING— Pleasure  of  a. 
 
 It  is  a  little  thing 
 To  give  a  cup  of  water;  yet  its  draught 
 
LITTLE  THINGS. 
 
 517 
 
 Of  cool  refreshment,  drained  by  fevered 
 
 lips. 
 May  give  a  shock  of  pleasure  to  the  soul 
 More  exquisite  by  far  than  nectareous  juice 
 Renews  the  life  of  joy  in  happiest  hours. 
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— Discoveries  of. 
 
 The  art  of  printing,  probably  the  parent 
 of  more  good  than  all  others,  owes  its 
 origin  to  rude  impressions  taken  (for  the 
 amusement  of  children)  from  letters  carved 
 on  the  bark  of  a  beach  tree.  This  was  a 
 slight  matter,  which  thousands  would  have 
 passed  over  with  neglect. 
 
 Gunpowder  was  discovered  from  the  fall- 
 ing of  a  spark  on  some  materials  mixed  in 
 a  mortar;  or  perhaps  we  should  rather  say 
 that  artillery  was  the  consequence  of  this 
 spark,  and  the  due  observation  of  the  cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 The  stupendous  results  of  the  steam- 
 engine  may  all  be  traced  to  an  individual 
 observing  steam  issuing  from  a  bottle  just 
 emptied  and  placed  casually  close  to  a  tire. 
 He  plunged  the  bottle-neck  into  cold  water, 
 and  was  intellignt  enough  to  notice  the 
 instantaneous  rush  which  ensued  from  this 
 simple  condensing  apparatus. 
 
 Electricity  was  discovered  by  a  person 
 observing  that  a  piece  of  rubbed  glass  or 
 some  similar  substance  attracted  small 
 bits  of  paper,  &c.  Galvanism,  again,  owes 
 its  origin  to  Madame  Galvani's  noticing 
 the  contraction  of  the  muscle  of  a  skinned 
 frog  which  was  accidently  touched  by  a 
 person  at  the  moment  of  the  professor,  her 
 husband,  taking  an  electric  spark  from  a 
 machine.  He  followed  up  the  hint  by  ex- 
 l^erinients.  Pendulum  clocks  were  invented 
 from  Galileo's  observing  the  lamp  in  a 
 church  swinging  to  and  fro.  The  tele- 
 scope we  owe  to  some  children  of  a  spec- 
 tacle maker  placing  two  or  more  pairs  of 
 spectacles  before  each  other,  and  looking 
 through  them  at  a  distant  object.  The 
 glimpse  thus  afforded  was  followed  up  by 
 older  heads.  The  barometer  originated  in 
 the  circumstance  of  a  pump,  which  had 
 been  fixed  higher  than  usual  above  the 
 surface  of  a  well,  being  found  not  to  draw 
 water.  A  sagacious  observer  hence  deduced 
 the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere,  and  tried 
 quicksilver.  The  Argand  lamp  was  in- 
 vented by  one  of  the  brothers  of  that  name 
 having  remarked  that  a  tube  held  by 
 chance  over  a  candle  caused  it  to  burn 
 with  a  bright  flame— an  ellect  before  un- 
 attainable, though  earnestly  sought  after. 
 Without  the  Argand  lamp,  lighthouses  (to 
 pass  over  minor  objects)  could  not  be  made 
 efficient,  and  on  the  importance  of  these  it 
 is  needless  to  dwell.  C.  Knight. 
 
 It  was  from  one  of  the  most  simple  in- 
 cidents that  Newton  was  enabled  to  dis- 
 
 close to  the  world  the  system  of  the  uni- 
 verse— that  of  the  fall  of  an  apple. 
 
 To  a  very  simple  circumstance  we  owe 
 the  discovery  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
 of  modern  arts.  Prince  Ilupert,  one  morn- 
 ing, noticed  a  soldier  rubbing  the  rust  off 
 his  gun-barrel,  occasioned  by  the  dew  of 
 the  night  before,  and  that  it  left  on  the 
 surface  of  the  steel  a  collection  of  very 
 minute  holes,  resembling  a  dark  engraving, 
 parts  of  which  had,  here  and  there,  been 
 rubbed  away  by  the  soldier.  The  kind  of 
 engraving  called  mezzotinto  was  thus  sug- 
 gested to  him,  and  its  invention  the  result 
 of  his  experiments. 
 
 The  waving  of  a  linen  shirt  hanging 
 before  the  fire  in  the  warm  and  ascending 
 air,  or  the  ascending  of  smoke  in  a  chim- 
 ney, suggested  to  Ste])hen  Montgolfier  the 
 invention  of  the  balloon.         Dr.  Howard. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— Economy  in. 
 
 A  lady  in  the  vicinity  of  Bridgeport, 
 Ct.,  was  in  the  habit  of  putting  out  shirts 
 to  make,  for  a  large  clothing  establishment, 
 to  a  number  of  women  in  the  neighboui- 
 hood.  In  the  cutting  of  these,  there  were 
 a  great  many  little  odds  and  ends  of  cloth 
 left  over— pieces  too  small  to  be  of  use, 
 and  the  first  thought  was,  of  course,  to 
 toss  them  into  the  fire.  "No,"  she  re- 
 flected; "I  will  save  them  as  they  accu- 
 mulate, and  perhaps  I  may  get  enough 
 to  exchange  with  the  tinman  for  soma 
 kitchen  article  or  other."  So  she  let  them 
 lie,  housewife-like,  and  in  a  few  weeks 
 there  was  quite  a  pile. 
 
 One  day  a  neighbour  came  in,  and  on 
 hearing  the  destination  of  the  scraps,  ad- 
 vised that  they  should  be  sent  to  a  paper- 
 mill  at  some  little  distance.  "They  will 
 give  you  three  or  four  cents  a  pound  for 
 them,"  said  he,  "and  that  is  better  than 
 exchanging  them  for  tin." 
 
 She  asked  her  husband's  advice.  To  hiui 
 a  few  rags  more  or  less  seemed  a  trivial 
 afl'air. 
 
 "  Do  as  you  like,"  said  he,  laughingly — 
 "you  may  have  all  the  money  you  can 
 make  out  of  the  rags  !" 
 
 She  took  him  at  his  word,  and  in  two  or 
 three  montlis  some  half-dozen  barrels  of 
 rags  were  sent  by  some  one  who  was  going 
 in  the  direction  of  the  paper-mill.  To  her 
 surprise  and  pleasure,  a  new,  rustling  five- 
 dollar  bill  came  back. 
 
 Again  the  impulse  to  spend  it  for  some 
 little  ornament  was  checked.  "No,"  she 
 resolved ;  "  all  my  rag  money  shall  go  into 
 the  savings  bank." 
 
 And  intQ  the  savings  bank  it  went  accord- 
 ingly. Years  rolled  by — more  rags  were 
 saved  and  sold — interest  and  principal 
 accumulated.  At  length  an  unusual  oppor- 
 tunity presented  itself'  for  the  pm-chase  of 
 
518 
 
 LITTLE  THrtTGS— LONGEVITY  OP  MAN. 
 
 a  beautiful  gold  watch.  Forty  dollars  was 
 the  price. 
 
 "I  will  not  ask  ray  husband  to  with- 
 draw any  necessary  funds  from  his  busi- 
 ness," she  thought,  "  but  now  is  the  time 
 to  make  my  rag  money  useful." 
 
 The  gold  watch  was  purchased — literally 
 with  rags. 
 
 Yet  this  was  not  the  end  of  it.  The 
 bank  fund  of  which  the  bundle  of  rags  was 
 the  origin,  now  amounts  to  over  twenty-jive 
 Mndred  dollars. 
 
 "  I  do  not  know  how  it  has  accumu- 
 lated," said  the  lady  to  us.  "  A  few  cut- 
 tings and  scraps  laid  aside  whenever  I  cut 
 out  shirts — a  few  dollars  carried  to  the 
 bank  when  I  went  to  the  city — a  little  in- 
 terest added  on  from  time  to  time — it  has 
 grown  up,  almost  without  thought  or  care 
 on  my  part."  T.  S.  Arthur. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— God's  Use  of. 
 
 We  see  this  illustrated  in  the  world  of 
 nature,  and  in  the  world  of  grace.  The 
 little  humming-bird,  the  little  gnat,  the 
 little  violet,  the  little  minnow,  the  little 
 mite,  the  little  atom.  He  makes  use  of 
 in  a  wise  and  beautiful  manner  in  creation ; 
 for  the  manifestation  of  His  glory.  So  He 
 does  in  grace.  The  little  promise,  the 
 little  faith,  the  little  talent,  all  have 
 their  place,  and  ai-e  used  by  Him  for  His 
 glory.  John  Bate. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— Importance  of. 
 
 Minute  events  are  the  hinges  on  which 
 magnificent  results  turn.  In  a  watch  the 
 smallest  link,  chain,  or  ratchet,  cog,  or 
 crank,  is  as  essential  as  the  main-spring 
 itself.  If  one  fall  out  the  whole  will  stand 
 still.  Dr.  Cumming .. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— Not  lost. 
 
 The  widow's  mites  are  not  lost,  they 
 may  be  transmuted  into  gems  that  shall 
 glitter  in  her  crown  of  reward ! 
 
 "  The  little  drift  of  common  dust, 
 
 By  the  March  winds  disturbed  and  tost, 
 Though  driven  by  the  fitftil  gust, 
 
 Is  changed,  but  never  lost. 
 It  yet  may  bear  some  sturdy  stem. 
 
 Some  proud  oak  battling  with  the  blast. 
 Or  crown  with  verdurous  diadem 
 
 Some  ruin  of  the  past."     Dr.  J.  Parlcer. 
 
 LITTLE  THINGS— Power  of. 
 
 It  is  little ; 
 But  in  these  sharp  extremities  of  fortune. 
 The  blessings  which  the  weak  and  poor  can 
 
 scatter 
 Have  their  own  season. 
 It  is  a  little  thing  to  speak  a  phrase 
 Of  common  comfort,  which  by  daily  use 
 Has  almost  lost  its  sense ;  yet  on  the  ear 
 
 Of  him  who  thought  to  die  unmourn'd, 
 
 'twill  fall 
 Like  choicest  music ;  fill  the  glazing  eye 
 With  gentle  tears ;  relax  the  knotted  hand. 
 To  know  the  bonds  of  fellowship  again  ; 
 And  shed  on  the  departing  soul  a  sense. 
 More  precious  than  the  benison  of  friends 
 About  the  honour'd  death-bed  of  the  rich. 
 To  him  who  else  were  lonely,  that  another 
 Of  the  great  family  is  near  and  feels. 
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 LONGEVITY  OP  MAN. 
 
 A  few  examples  of  longevity  in  the 
 human  species,  though  no  general  conclu- 
 sions can  be  drawn  from  them,  may  not  be 
 incurious  to  the  reader.  We  shall  not  go 
 back  to  a  remote  and  obscure  antiquity, 
 but  confine  ourselves  to  more  modern 
 times,  when  the  modes  of  living  were 
 nearly  the  same  as  they  are  at  present. 
 
 On  this  subject,  the  celebrated  Lord 
 Verulam,  in  his  Sylva  Sylvarum,  gives 
 the  following  passage,  chiefly  translated 
 from  the  seventh  book  of  Plinj's  Natural 
 History  : — "  The  year  of  our  Lord  76, 
 falling  into  the  time  of  Vespasian,  is 
 memorable ;  in  which  we  shall  find,  as  it 
 were,  a  calendar  of  long-lived  men ;  for 
 that  year  there  was  a  taxing  (now  a 
 taxing  is  the  most  authentical  and  truest 
 informer  touching  the  ages  of  men),  and 
 in  that  part  of  Italy  which  lieth  between 
 the  Appenine  mountains  and  the  river  Po, 
 there  were  found  124  persons  that  either 
 equalled  or  exceeded  an  hundred  years  of 
 age,  namely— 
 
 Fifty-four    .     .     .     of  100  years  each. 
 Fifty-seven  ....     110 
 
 Two 125 
 
 Four 130 
 
 Four 135  or  137 
 
 Three 140 
 
 Besides  these,  Parma,  in  particular,  af- 
 forded five,  whereof 
 
 Three  were  ....  120  years  each. 
 
 Two 130 
 
 One  in  Bruxelles  .     .  125 
 
 One  in  Placentia   .     .  131 
 
 One  in  Faventia    .     .  132 
 
 A  certain  town,  then  called  the  Valleia- 
 tium,  situate  in  the  hills  about  Placentia, 
 aflbrded  ten,  whereof 
 
 Six  were 110  years  each. 
 
 Four 120 
 
 One  in  Eimino,  whose  name  was  Marcus 
 Aponius 150 
 
 The  most  extraordinary  instance  of 
 longevity  in  Great  Britain  was  exhibited 
 in  the  person  of  Henry  Jenkins.  He  was 
 a  native  of  Yorkshire,  lived  to  the  amazing 
 age  of  169  years,  and  died  on  the  8th  day 
 of  December,  1670. 
 
lOOK— LORD'S  PRAYER. 
 
 549 
 
 Next  to  Jenkins,  we  have  the  famous 
 Thomas  Parre,  who  was  a  native  of  Shrop- 
 shire, and  died  on  the  16th  day  of  No- 
 vember, 1635,  at  the  age  of  152. 
 
 Francis  Consist,  a  native  of  Yorkshire, 
 aged  150,  died  in  January,  1768. 
 
 Margaret  Foster,  aged  136,  and  her 
 daughter,  aged  104,  were  natives  of  Cum- 
 berland, and  both  alive  in  the  year  1771. 
 
 William  Evans,  aged  145,  lived  in  Caer- 
 narvon, and  still  existed  in  the  year  1782. 
 
 Dumiter  Radaloy,  aged  140,  lived  in 
 Harmenstead,  and  died  on  the  16th  day  of 
 January,  1782. 
 
 James  Bowels,  aged  152,  lived  in  Kill- 
 ingworth,  and  died  on  the  15th  day  of 
 August,  1656. 
 
 The  Countess  of  Desmond,  in  Ireland, 
 saw  her  140th  year. 
 
 Mr.  Eceleston,  a  native  of  Ireland,  lived 
 to  the  age  of  143,  and  died  in  the  year 
 1691. 
 
 John  Mount,  a  native  of  Scotland,  saw 
 his  136th  year,  and  died  on  the  27th  day 
 of  February,  1776. 
 
 William  Ellis,  of  Liverpool,  died  on  the 
 16th  day  of  August,  1780,  at  the  age  of 
 130. 
 
 Colonel  Thomas  Winsloe,  a  native  of 
 Ireland,  aged  146,  died  on  the  22nd  day 
 of  August,  1766.  SmelUe. 
 
 lOOK— Effect  of  a. 
 
 On  his  circuit  in  Louisiana,  the  Rev,  D. 
 Deviime  found  a  settler  who  had  been  re- 
 proved by  Fletcher  of  Madeley  for  pro- 
 fanity;  he  was  "struck  dumb"  by  the 
 look  of  the  vicar,  and  though  he  after- 
 wards went  to  sea,  forgot  the  words  of 
 the  rebuke,  and  was  recklessly  wicked, 
 that  look  never  escaped  his  mind.  "  It 
 followed  him  everywhere,  into  whatever 
 part  of  the  world  he  went,  and  annoyed 
 hini  in  all  his  sins."  On  penetrating 
 Louisiana,  and  hearing  the  Methodist 
 itinerant  fifty  years  later,  the  remem- 
 bered "look"  overpowered  him.  "No 
 longer  resisting  the  impression  which  had 
 followed  him  the  world  over,  he  yielded, 
 obtained  pardon,  lived  holily,  and  soon 
 died  in  great  peace."  Br.  Stevens, 
 
 A  look  saved  the  bitten  Israelites  in  the 
 wilderness  from  death.  A  look  brought 
 them  illumination,  "  they  looked  unto  Him 
 and  were  hglitened."  A  look  brings  sal- 
 vation to  the  soul,  "  Look  unto  Me  and  be 
 ye  saved."  Looking  at  the  things  which 
 are  seen  makes  us  earthly.  Looking  at 
 the  things  which  are  unseen  makes  us 
 spiritual.  John  Bate. 
 
 lOQUACITY— Condemned. 
 
 A  prating  barber  asked  King  Archelaus 
 how  he  would  be  trimmed  ?     The  king  re- 
 
 jjlied,  "  Silently."  Surely  in  much  talk 
 there  cannot  choose  but  be  much  vanity. 
 Loquacity  is  the  fistula  of  the  mind, — ever 
 running  and  almost  incurable,  let  every 
 man,  therefore,  be  a  Phocion  or  Pytha- 
 gorean, to  speak  briefly  to  the  point  oi 
 not  at  all ;  let  him  labour  like  them  of 
 Crete,  to  show  more  wit  in  his  discourse 
 than  words,  and  not  to  pour  out  of  his 
 mouth  a  flood  of  the  one,  when  he  can 
 hardly  wring  out  of  his  brains  a  drop  of 
 the  other.  Spencer. 
 
 LORD'S  DAY— The. 
 
 Stations  on  the  line  of  your  journey  are 
 not  your  journey's  end,  but  each  one  brings 
 you  nearer.     Such  are  our  Lord's  days. 
 
 A  haven  is  not  Jwme,  but  it  is  a  place  of 
 quiet  and  rest  where  the  rough  waves  are 
 stayed.     Such  is  "  the  Lord's  day." 
 
 A  garden  is  a  piece  of  common  land,  and 
 yet  it  has  ceased  to  be  common  land.  It 
 is  an  eft'ort  to  regain  paradise.  Such  is 
 "  the  Lord's  day." 
 
 A  bud  is  not  a  flower,  but  it  is  the  pro- 
 mise of  a  flower.  Such  is  "  the  Lord's 
 day." 
 
 The  world's  week  tempts  you  to  sell  your 
 soul  to  the  flesh  and  the  world.  "  The 
 Lord's  day  "  calls  you  to  remembrance,  and 
 begs  you  rather  to  sacrifice  earth  to  heaven 
 and  time  to  eternity,  than  heaven  to  earth 
 and  eternity  to  time. 
 
 The  six  days  not  only  chain  you  as  cap- 
 tives of  the  earth,  but  do  their  best  to  keep 
 the  prison  doors  shut,  that  you  may  forget 
 the  way  out.  "  The  Lord's  day  "  sets  be- 
 fore you  an  open  door.  Samson  has  carried 
 the  gates  away.  "  The  Lord's  day  "  sum- 
 mons you  to  the  threshold  of  your  house 
 of  bondage,  to  look  forth  into  immortality, 
 your  immortality. 
 
 The  true  Lord's  day  is  the  eternal  life  j 
 hut  a  type  of  it  is  given  to  you  on  earth, 
 that  you  may  be  refreshed  in  the  body 
 with  the  anticipation  of  the  great  freedom 
 wherewith  the  Lord  will  make  you  free. 
 
 J.  Fuhford. 
 
 LORD'S  PRAYER— Paraphrased. 
 
 Our  Father — • 
 
 By  the  right  of  creation. 
 By  bountiful  provision. 
 By  gracious  adoption  j 
 
 Who  art  in  heaven — 
 
 The  throne  of  Thy  glory. 
 The  portion  of  Thy  chifdren. 
 The  temple  of  Thy  angels. 
 
 Hallowed  be  Thy  name — 
 
 By  the  thought  of  our  hearts. 
 By  the  words  of  our  lips. 
 By  the  works  of  our  hands. 
 
550 
 
 lORD'S  PEAYEE— LORD'S  SUPPER. 
 
 Tliy  klng:dom  come — 
 
 Of  Providence  to  defend  us. 
 Of  grace  to  refine  us, 
 Of  glory  to  crown  us  ; 
 
 Thy  will  he  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
 heaven — 
 
 Toward  us  without  resistance, 
 By  us  without  compulsion. 
 Universally  without  exception. 
 Eternally  without  declension. 
 
 Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread — • 
 Of  necessity  for  our  bodies, 
 Of  eternal  life  for  our  souls. 
 
 And  forgive  us  our  trespasses — 
 Against  the  commands  of  Thy  law. 
 Against  the  grace  of  Thy  Gospel ; 
 
 As  we  forgive  them  that  trespass  against 
 us — 
 
 By  defaming  our  characters, 
 By  embezzling  our  property. 
 By  abusing  our  persons ; 
 
 And  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but 
 deliver  us  from  evil — 
 
 Of  overwhelming  afflictions, 
 Of  worldly  enticements. 
 Of  Satan's  devices. 
 Of  error's  seductions. 
 Of  sinful  aflections ; 
 
 For  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  the  power,  and 
 the  glory,  for  ever — 
 
 Thy  kingdom  governs  all. 
 Thy  power  subdues  all. 
 Thy  glory  is  above  all. 
 
 Amen, 
 
 As  it  is  in  Thy  purposes. 
 
 So  it  is  in  Thy  promises. 
 
 So  be  it  in  our  prayers. 
 
 So  shall  it  be  to  Thy  praise.  Brenard. 
 
 LORD'S  PRAYER— Spirit  of  the. 
 
 The  spirit  of  the  Lord's  prayer  is  beauti- 
 ful. That  form  of  petition  breathes  -a.  filial 
 spirit — "  Father." 
 
 A  catholic  spirit — "  Our  Father." 
 
 A  reverential  spirit — "  Hallowed  be  Thy 
 name." 
 
 A  missionary  spirit  — "  Thy  kingdom 
 come." 
 
 An  obedient  spirit — "  Thy  will  be  done 
 on  earth." 
 
 A  dependent  spirit — "  Give  us  this  day 
 our  daily  bread." 
 
 A  forgiving  spirit — "And  forgive  our 
 trespasses,  as  we  forgive  them  that  trespass 
 against  us." 
 
 A  cautious  spirit — "  Lead  us  not  into 
 temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil." 
 
 A  confidential  and  adoring  spirit — "  For 
 
 Thine  is  the  kingdom,  and  the  power,  and 
 the  glory,  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen." 
 
 Anon. 
 LORD'S  SUPPER— Benefits  of  the. 
 
 Is  thy  mind  polluted  ?  make  haste,  then, 
 unto  this  sacrament,  which  is  the  means  of 
 purity.  Art  thou  ill-disposed  ?  It  is  a 
 sovereign  remedy,  an  approved  antidote 
 against  all  the  diseases  of  the  mind.  Art 
 thou  hungry  ?  behold  the  bread  of  angels. 
 Art  thou  benumbed  with  cold  ?  make  speed 
 unto  it,  it  is  an  ardent  fire.  Do  thine 
 enemies  molest  thee  ?  take  courage,  this 
 arsenal  will  furnish  thee  with  all  sorts  of 
 weapons  to  defend  thyself.  Art  thou  sor- 
 rowful and  aftlicted  ?  this  is  that  wine 
 which  cheers  the  heart  of  man.  Dost  thou 
 seek  often  dainties  ?  they  are  nowhere  to 
 be  found  but  here  in  this  banquet,  the 
 repast  of  kings.  Dost  thou  long  to  be  in 
 heaven  ?  here  thy  charges  are  defrayed, 
 here  thou  wilt  be  furnished  with  far  better 
 provision  for  thy  journey  than  Elias  was, 
 travelling  toward  Mount  Horeb.  If  the 
 very  touch  of  our  Saviour's  garment  could 
 stop  a  bloody  flux,  what  disease  is  there 
 which  the  touch  of  His  sacred  body  cannot 
 cure  ?  Brexelius. 
 
 LORD'S  SUPPER— Design  of  the. 
 
 Let  us  love  and  adore  the  abyss  of  Divine 
 wisdom  and  goodness,  and  entertain  the 
 sacrament  with  just  and  holy  receptions; 
 and  then  we  shall  receive  all  those  fruits  of 
 it  which  an  earnest  disputer,  whether  he 
 happen  right  or  wrong,  hath  no  warrant  to 
 expect.  For  therefore  our  wisest  Master 
 hath  appointed  bread  and  wine,  that  we 
 may  be  corporeally  united  to  Him ;  that 
 as  the  symbols  becoming  nutriment  are 
 turned  into  the  substance  of  our  bodies,  so 
 Christ,  being  the  food  of  our  souls,  should 
 assimilate  us,  making  us  partakers  of  the 
 Divine  nature.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 LORD'S  SUPPER— EquaUty  at  the. 
 
 It  is  related  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
 that  once  when  he  remained  to  take  the 
 sacrament  at  his  parish  church,  a  very  poor 
 old  man  went  up  the  opposite  aisle,  and 
 reaching  the  communion  table,  knelt  down 
 close  by  the  side  of  the  duke.  Some  one 
 (probably  a  pew-opener)  came  and  touched 
 the  poor  man  on  the  shoulder,  and  whis- 
 pered to  him  to  move  further  away,  or  to 
 rise  and  wait  until  the  duke  had  received 
 the  bread  and  wine.  But  the  eagle  eye 
 and  the  quick  ear  of  the  great  commander 
 caught  the  meaning  of  that  touch  and  that 
 whisper.  He  clasped  the  old  man's  hand 
 and  held  him,  to  prevent  his  risnig,  and 
 in  a  reverential  undertone,  but  most  dis- 
 tinctly, said — "  Do  not  move,  we  are  all 
 equal  here."  Anon. 
 
LORD'S  SUPPER- LOVE, 
 
 551 
 
 LORD'S  SUPPER— Names  of  the. 
 
 It  is  called  a  sacrament,  that  is,  a  sign 
 and  an  oath.  An  ontward  and  visible  sign 
 of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace  ;  an  oath, 
 by  which  we  bind  our  souls  with  a  bond 
 nnto  the  Lord.  It  is  called  the  Lord's 
 Sitpjjer,  because  it  was  first  instituted  in 
 the  evening,  and  at  the  close  of  the  Pass- 
 over supper  ;  and  because  we  therein  feed 
 npon  Christ,  the  Bread  of  life  (Rev.  iii,  20  ; 
 1  Cor.  xi).  It  is  called  the  communion,  as 
 herein  we  commune  with  Christ,  and  with 
 His  people  (1  Cor.  xii,  13 ;  x,  17).  It  is 
 called  the  eucharist,  a  thanksgiving,  be- 
 cause Christ,  in  the  institution  of  it,  gave 
 1  thanks  (1  Cor.  xi,  24),  and  because  we,  in 
 
 the  participation  of  it,  must  give  thanks 
 likewise.  It  is  called  b.  feast,  and  by  some 
 a  feast  upon  sacrifice  (though  not  a  sacri- 
 fice itself)  in  allusion  to  the  custom  of  the 
 Jews  feasting  upon  their  sacrifices  (1  Cor. 
 X,  18).  C.  Buck. 
 
 LOVE— Abode  of. 
 
 It  is  not  in  the  mountains 
 
 Nor  the  palaces  of  pride. 
 That  love  will  fold  his  wings  up 
 
 And  rejoicingly  abide; 
 But  in  meek  and  humble  natures 
 
 His  home  is  ever  found. 
 As  the  lark  that  sings  in  heaven 
 
 Builds  its  nest  upon  the  ground. 
 
 L.  Blanchard. 
 
 LOVE — Abridgment  of  the  Law. 
 
 Love  is  the  abridgment  of  the  law,  the 
 new  precept  of  the  Gospel.  Luther  calls  it 
 the  shortest  and  the  longest  divinity  : 
 short,  for  the  form  of  words ;  long,  yea, 
 everlasting  for  the  use  and  practice ;  for 
 "  charity  shall  never  cease."        T.  Adams. 
 
 LOVE— Activity  of. 
 
 Love  is  like  the  Spirit  in  Ezekiel's 
 wheels,  that  made  them  move  so  swiftly  ; 
 so  that  dulness,  sluggishness,  and  weari- 
 someness  is  quickly  dispelled  by  heavenly 
 love,  as  the  ice  is  presently  dissolved  by  the 
 sunbeams.  Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 Yes,  Love  Is  ever  busy  with  his  shuttle. 
 Is  ever  weaving  into  life's  dull  warp 
 Bright,  gorgeous  flowers  and  scenes  Ar- 
 cadian ; 
 Hanging  our  gloomy  prison-house  about 
 With  tapestries,  that  make  its  walls  dilate 
 In  never-ending  vistas  of  delight. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 LOVE— Bankrupt  in. 
 
 It  is  both  a  misery  and  a  shame  for  a 
 man  to  be  a  bankrupt  in  love ;  which  he 
 may  easily  pay,  and  be  never  the  more  im- 
 poverished. I  will  be  in  no  man's  debt  for 
 goodwill :  but  will  at  least  return  every 
 man  Ms  own  measure,  if  not  with  usury,  i 
 
 It  is  much  bettiT  to  be  a  creditor  than  a 
 dobtor  in  anything  ;  but  especially  of  this  : 
 yet  of  this  I  will  be  so  content  to  be  a 
 debtor,  that  I  will  always  be  paying  it 
 where  I  owe  it ;  and  yet  never  will  have 
 paid  it,  that  I  shall  not  owe  it  more. 
 
 Bp.  Hall. 
 LOVE— not  to  be  Bought. 
 
 Love  is  not  to  be  bought — 'tis  of  the  soul 
 The  noblest  element,  the  spirit  bond 
 That  links  the  angel  with  humanity. 
 As  well  might'st  thou  attempt  to  purchase 
 
 heaven, 
 To  vend  the  stars,  make  traffic  of  the  skies, 
 Or  measure  out  what  is  immeasurable. 
 As  count  each  feeling  in  the  pulse  of  love. 
 Sivain. 
 LOVE— Children's. 
 
 And  canst  thou,  mother,  for  a  moment 
 
 think 
 That  we,  thy  children,  when  old  age  shall 
 
 shed 
 Its  blanching  honours  on  thy  weary  head, 
 Could  from  our  best  of  duties  ever  shrink  ? 
 Sooner  the  sun  from  his  high  sphere  should 
 
 sink 
 Than  we,  ungrateful,  leave  thee  in  that  day 
 To  pine  in  solitude  thy  life  away, 
 Or  shun  thee,  tott'ring  on  the  grave's  cold 
 
 brink. 
 Banish  the  thought !     Where'er  our  step' 
 
 may  roam. 
 O'er  smiling  plains, or  wastes  without  a  tre 
 Still  will  fond  memory  point  our  hearts  i 
 
 thee, 
 And  paint  the  pleasures  of  thy  peacefu, 
 
 home ; 
 While  duty  bids  us  all  thy  grief  assuage, 
 And  smooth  the  pillow  of  thy  sinkins  age. 
 
 S.  K.  White. 
 LOVE— Christian. 
 
 When  a  rosebud  is  formed,  if  the  soil  is 
 soft  and  the  sky  is  genial,  it  is  not  long 
 before  it  bursts ;  for  the  life  within  is  so 
 abundant  that  it  can  no  longer  contain  it 
 all,  but  in  blossomed  brightness  and  swim- 
 ming fragrance  it  must  needs  let  forth  its 
 joy,  and  gladden  all  the  air.  And  if,  when 
 thus  ripe,  it  refused  to  expand,  it  would 
 quickly  rot  at  heart,  and  die.  And 
 Christian  love  is  just  piety  with  its  petals 
 fully  spread,  developing  itself,  and  making 
 it  a  happier  world.  The  religion  which 
 fancies  that  it  loves  God,  wlien  it  never 
 evinces  love  to  its  brother,  is  not  piety,  but 
 a  poor  mildewed  theology,  a  dogma  with  a 
 worm  in  the  heart.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 The  Christian's  sympathy  should  ever  be 
 of  the  widest  character,  because  he  serves  a 
 God  of  infinite  love.  When  the  precious 
 stone  of  love  is  thrown  by  grace  into  the 
 crystal  pool  of  a  renewed  heart,  it  stirs  the 
 transparent  life-floods  into  ever-widening 
 
552 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 circles  of  sympathy  :  the  first  ring  has  no 
 very  wide  circumferenue — we  love  our 
 household;  for  he  who  careth  not  for  his 
 own  household  is  worse  than  a  heathen  man. 
 But  mark  the  next  concentric  ring — we 
 love  the  household  of  faith  :  "  We  know 
 that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life, 
 because  we  love  the  brethren."  Look  once 
 more,  for  the  ever-widening  ring  has 
 reached  the  very  limit  of  the  lake,  and  in- 
 cluded all  in  its  area,  for  "  supplications, 
 prayers,  intercessions,  and  giving  of  thanks, 
 are  to  be  made  for  all  men."  A  follower 
 of  Jesus  means  a  friend  of  man.  A 
 Christian  is  a  philanthropist  by  profession, 
 and  generous  by  force  of  grace  ;  wide  as  the 
 reign  of  sorrow  is  the  stretch  of  his  love, 
 and  where  he  cannot  help  he  pities  still. 
 
 C  II.  Sturgeon. 
 LOVE— like  Christ's. 
 
 He  asks  not  that  our  love  should  equal 
 His,  but  resemble  His  ;  not  that  it  should 
 be  r,f  the  same  strength,  but  of  the  same 
 A  hid.  A  pearl  of  dew  will  not  hold  the 
 sun,  but  it  may  hold  a  spark  of  its  light. 
 A  child  by  the  sea  trying  to  catch  the 
 waves  as  they  dash  in  clouds  of  crystal 
 spray  upon  the  sand,  cannot  hold  the  ocean 
 in  a  tiny  shell,  but  he  can  hold  a  drop  of 
 the  ocean  water.  C.  Stanford. 
 
 LOVE — Comprehensiveness  of. 
 
 Love  !  what  a  volume  in  a  word  !  an. ocean 
 
 in  a  tear ! 
 A  seventh  heaven  in  a  glance  !  a  whirlwiiid 
 
 in  a  sigh ! 
 The  lightning  in  a  touch — a  millennium  in 
 
 a  moment ! 
 What  concentrated  joy,  or  woe,  in  bless'd 
 
 or  blighted  love  !  Ttipper. 
 
 LOVE— Conjugal. 
 
 When  a  man  dwells  in  love,  then  the 
 breasts  of  his  wife  are  pleasant  as  the 
 droppings  on  the  hill  of  Hermon,  her  eyes 
 are  fair  as  the  light  of  heaven,  she  is  a 
 fountain  sealed,  and  he  can  quench  his 
 thirst,  and  ease  his  cares,  and  lay  his 
 sorrow  down  on  her  lap,  and  can  retire 
 home  to  his  sanctuary  and  refectory,  and 
 his  gardens  of  sweetness  and  chaste  re- 
 Ireshments.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 LOVE— Conquers. 
 
 Once  in  visiting  a  certain  school  I  fonnd 
 there  a  boy  without  shoes  and  stockings, 
 as  indeed  was  the  case  with  many,  and 
 moreover  singularly  tattered  and  torn  as 
 well  as  unconth-looking.  The  master  had 
 placed  him  on  the  highest  seat;  and  when 
 I  asked  him  why  he  had  done  so,  he  replied 
 aloud,  so  that  all  the  children  could  hear 
 what  he  said — 
 
 "  This  is  a  stranger,  so  we  must  pay  him 
 particular  honour,  and  besides,  when  he 
 
 came  to-day  the  word  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
 came  to  my  mind,  '  He  that  receiveth  one 
 of  these  little  ones  receiveth  Me,'  and  so  1 
 gave  him  the  best  seat." 
 
 And  while  he  was  speaking  he  went  on 
 stroking  and  caressing  the  child  in  a  way 
 which  must  have  been  quite  new  to  him. 
 This  teacher  was  said  to  be  so  popular  with 
 children  that  they  ran  away  from  home  to 
 come  to  his  s(;hool.  I  accordingly  thought, 
 Here  is  a  man  from  whom  much  may  be 
 learned.  Afterwards  I  heard  him  say  that 
 this  boy  was  a  sad  tliief;  but,  he  added 
 in  a  confident  tone,  "  I  shall  bring  him 
 round,  if  I  can  only  get  hold  of  him,  for  I 
 feel  a  strong  afifection  for  him  in  my  heart." 
 And  so  indeed  it  was.  Later  I  admitted 
 that  boy  to  the  Church,  and  had  much 
 satisfaction  from  him.  He  who  has  love  in 
 his  heart  has  plenty  of  courage  as  well, 
 and  is  sure  of  a  blessing.  Vr.  Buchsel. 
 
 LOVE — Coverings  of. 
 
 "  Love  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,"  says 
 the  apostle.  Wlien  a  scar  cannot  be  taken 
 away,  the  next  oflSce  is  to  hide  it.  Love  is 
 never  so  blind  as  when  it  is  to  spy  faults. 
 It  is  like  the  painter  who,  being  to  draw 
 the  picture  of  a  friend  having  a  blemish  in 
 one  eye,  would  picture  only  the  other  side 
 of  his  face.  It  is  a  noble  and  a  great  thing 
 to  cover  the  blemishes,  and  to  excuse  the 
 failings  of  a  friend;  to  draw  a  curtain 
 before  his  stains,  and  to  display  his  perfec- 
 tions ;  to  bury  his  weakness  in  silence,  but 
 to  proclaim  his  virtues  upon  the  housetop. 
 It  is  an  imitation  of  the  charities  of  heaven, 
 which,  when  the  creature  lies  prostrate  in 
 the  weakness  of  sleep  and  weariness, 
 spreads  the  covering  of  night  and  darkness 
 over  it,  to  conceal  it  in  that  condition  ;  but 
 as  soon  as  our  spirits  are  refreshed  and 
 nature  returns  to  its  morning  vigour,  God 
 then  bids  the  sun  rise  and  the  day  shine 
 upon  us,  both  to  advance  and  to  show  that 
 activity.  Dr.  South. 
 
 "  Love  covers  a  multitude  of  sins."  How 
 much  this  is  needed  in  a  world  where  all 
 are  possessed  of  some  sins.  How  pleasant 
 is  the  feeling  that  one's  sins  are  covered  by 
 the  charity  of  the  individual  who  knows 
 them,  so  that  instead  of  looking  at  them 
 and  magnifying  them,  he  does  not  even  see 
 them,  but  notices  whatever  excellence  may 
 be  discernible.  If  this  practice  of  love  was 
 more  general,  how  much  nearer  in  attec- 
 tion,  confidence,  co-operation,  and  unity, 
 would  Christians  be  brought ! 
 
 ISee  the  exemplification  of  this  feature  of 
 love,  in  God.  He  so  loved  the  world  that 
 He  gave  His  only  begotten  Son  to  be  the 
 propitiation  or  covering  for  the  world's  sins, 
 so  that  He  does  not  look  at  the  world's  sins 
 to  punish  them,  but  at  Christ's  atonement, 
 and  deals  with  the  world  in  grace.     But 
 
LOVE. 
 
 553 
 
 for  this  covering  of  Divine  love  God  would 
 have  nothing  but  the  world's  sin  to  look 
 at,  and  every  sight  would  widen  the  dis- 
 tance between  Him  and  the  world.  But 
 for  tliis  covering,  what  hope  would  there 
 be  of  the  world's  salvation  ?  how  could  the 
 sinner  find  reconciliation  with  God  ?  how 
 could  the  erring,  blundering  Christian  live 
 in  peace  with  God  ?  O  that  Christians 
 would  use  love's  covering  more  frequently. 
 Johi  Bate. 
 LOVE— A  Daughter's. 
 
 In  ancient  Rome  a  mother  was  punished 
 with  imprisonment ;  her  daughter,  who  was 
 an  ordinary  woman,  then  gave  suck  ;  she 
 came  to  the  prison  frequently,  and  the 
 gaoler  always  searched  her,  to  see  that  she 
 carried  no  food  to  her  mother  ;  at  last  she 
 was  found  giving  suck  to  her  mother  with 
 her  breasts.  This  extraordinary  aflection 
 of  the  daughter  gained  the  mother's  free- 
 dom ;  and  they  both  were  afterwards  main- 
 tained at  the  public  charge  while  they 
 lived.  There  is  a  like  example  in  the 
 Grecian  history,  of  a  woman  who,  by  her 
 breasts,  nourished  Cymon,  her  aged  father, 
 who  was  imprisoned,  and  supported  him 
 with  her  own  milk.  Andrew  Toolce. 
 
 That  night  I  was  out  late.  I  returned 
 by  Lee  cabin  about  eleven  o'clock.  As  I 
 approached  I  saw  a  strange-looking  object, 
 cowering  under  the  low  eaves.  A  cold  rain 
 was  falling — it  was  autumn  ;  I  drew  near — 
 and  there  was  Millie,  wet  to  the  skin.  Her 
 father  had  driven  her  out  some  hours  be- 
 fore ;  she  had  laid  down  to  listen  for  the 
 heavy  snoring  of  his  drunken  slumbers,  so 
 that  she  might  creep  back  to  her  bed. 
 Before  she  heard  it,  nature  seemed  ex- 
 hausted, and  she  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep, 
 with  rain-drops  pattering  upon  her.  I 
 tried  to  take  her  home  with  me ;  but  no, 
 true  as  a  martyr  to  his  faith,  she  struggled 
 fi'om  me,  and  returned  to  the  now  dark 
 and  silent  cabin.  Things  went  on  for 
 weeks  and  months,  but  at  lengtli  Lee  grew 
 less  violent,  even  in  his  drunken  fits,  to  his 
 self-denying  child  ;  and  one  day,  when  he 
 awoke  from  a  slumber  after  a  debauch,  and 
 found  her  preparing  breakfast  for  him, 
 and  singing  a  childish  song,  he  turned  to 
 her,  and  with  a  tone  almost  tender,  said, 
 "  Millie,  what  makes  you  stay  with  me  ?" 
 "  Because  you  are  my  father,  and  I  love 
 you."  "  You  love  me !"  repeated  the 
 wretched  man,  "you  love  me  !"  He  looked 
 at  his  bloated  limbs,  his  soiled  and  ragged 
 clothes.  "  Love  me  !"  he  still  murmured. 
 "  Millie,  what  makes  you  love  me  ?  I  am 
 a  poor  drunkard,  everybody  else  despises 
 me,  why  don't  you  ?"  "  Dear  father," 
 said  the  girl,  with  swimming  eyes,  "  my 
 mother  taught  me  to  love  you  ;  and  every 
 night  she  comes  from  heaven  and  stands  by 
 
 my  little  bed  and  says, '  Millie,  don't  leave 
 your  father,  he  will  get  away  from  that 
 rum  fiend  some  of  these  days,  and  then 
 how  happy  you  will  be.'  "  Anon. 
 
 LOVE— Definition  of. 
 
 Love  consists  in  approbation  of,  and  in- 
 clination towards  an  object  that  appears  to 
 us  as  good.  It  has  been  distinguished  into 
 1.  Love  of  esteem,  which  arises  from  the 
 mere  consideration  of  some  excellency  in 
 an  object,  and  belongs  either  to  persons  or 
 things.  2.  Love  of  benevolence,  which  is 
 an  inclination  to  seek  the  happiness  or 
 welfare  of  anything.  3.  Love  of  compla- 
 cence, which  arises  from  the  consideration 
 of  any  object  agreeable  to  us,  and  calcu- 
 lated to  atibrd  us  pleasure.  C.  Buck. 
 
 LOVE— Delicacy  of. 
 
 Love's  feeling  is  more  soft  and  sensible 
 Than  are    the   tender   horns   of    cockled 
 
 snails  ; 
 Love's  tongue  proves  dainty  Bacchus  gross 
 
 in  taste.  Shakespeare. 
 
 LOVE— Divine. 
 
 0  love  Divine,  how  sweet  thou  art ! 
 When  shall  I  find  my  willing  heart 
 
 All  taken  up  by  thee  ? 
 
 1  thirst,  I  faint,  I  die  to  prove 
 The  greatness  of  redeeming  love, 
 
 The  love  of  Christ  to  me  ! 
 Stronger  His  love  than  death  or  hell ; 
 Its  riches  are  unsearchable : 
 
 The  first-born  sons  of  light 
 Desire  in  vain  its  depths  to  see ; 
 They  cannot  reach  the  mystery. 
 
 The  length,  and  breadth,  and  height. 
 God  only  knows  the  love  of  God  : 
 O  that  it  now  were  shed  abroad 
 
 In  this  poor  stony  heart ! 
 For  love  I  sigh  !  for  love  I  pine  : 
 This  only  portion.  Lord,  be  mine, 
 
 Be  mine  this  better  part !    C.  Wesley. 
 
 Draw  my  soul  to  Thyself  by  the  secret 
 power  of  Thy  love,  as  the  sunshine  in  the 
 spring  draws  forth  the  creatures  from  their 
 winter  cells ;  meet  it  half  way,  and  entice 
 it  to  Tliee,  as  the  loadstone  doth  the  iron, 
 and  as  the  greater  flame  attracts  the  less. 
 
 Baxter. 
 LOVE— in  Dying. 
 
 Even  He  that  died  for  us  upon  the  cross, 
 in  the  last  hour,  in  the  unutterable  agony 
 of  death,  was  mindful  of  His  mother,  as  if 
 to  teach  us  that  this  holy  love  should  be 
 our  last  worldly  thought — the  last  point  of 
 earth  from  which  the  soul  should  take  its 
 flight  for  heaven.  Longfelloio, 
 
 LOVE— Endurance  of. 
 
 It  is  a  flame  that  burns  even  in  the 
 midst  of  the  great  deep.      "  Many  waters 
 
551 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 cHimot  quench   His  love,  neither  can  the 
 floods  drown  it."    It  triumphs  over  all.    It 
 never fa'deth,  either  in  time  or  in  eternity. 
 "  In  obedience  to  what  heaven  decrees, 
 Knowledge  shall  fail  and  prophecy  shall 
 
 cease, 
 But  lasting  charity's  more  ample  sway, 
 Nor  bound  by  time,  nor  subject  to  decay, 
 In  happy  triumph  shall  for  ever  live. 
 And  endless  good  dllluse,  and  endless  praise 
 
 receive."  J.  Wesley. 
 
 LOVE— Eternal. 
 
 What  power  shall  dim  its  ray, 
 Dropp'd  burning  from  above  ? 
 
 Eternal  life  shall  ne'er  decay  : 
 God  is  the  life  of  love. 
 
 And  when  its  source  of  life  is  o'er, 
 
 And  0}ily  then,  'twill  shine  no  more. 
 
 Iladame  Gui/on. 
 LOVE— a  Father's. 
 
 No  man  can  tell  but  he  that  loves  his 
 children  how  many  delicious  accents  make 
 a  man's  lieart  dance  in  the  pretty  conver- 
 sation of  those  dear  pledges  ;  their  childish- 
 ness, their  stammering,  their  little  angers, 
 their  innocence,  their  imperfections,  their 
 necessities,  are  so  many  little  emanations 
 of  joy  and  comfort  to  him  that  delights  in 
 their  persons  and  society:  but  he  that 
 loves  not  his  wife  and  his  children  feeds  a 
 lioness  at  home,  and  breeds  a  nest  of  sor- 
 rows ;  and  blessing  itself  cannot  make  him 
 happy.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 LOVE— Force  of. 
 
 Love,  genuine  love  of  the  real  Christian 
 type,  is  no  sickly  sentiment,  no  passing 
 emotion.  It  is  the  bravest  and  mightiest 
 force  on  earth.  Like  Orpheus,  it  cou- 
 rageously pursues  its  dear  object  into  the 
 Plutonic  regions  of  depravity,  grapples 
 heroically  with  the  fiends — fights  its  battles 
 and  wins  its  victories  by  music.  By  the 
 melodious  strains,  with  which  it  can  hold 
 the  dull  world  in  rapt  and  listening  silence, 
 it  makes  the  stony  hearts  of  fell  foes  relent, 
 the  iron  hand  of  tyrants  relax,  and  thus 
 rescues  the  captive  and  subdues  the  op- 
 pressor, without  violence  or  bloodshed. 
 
 Anon. 
 LOVE— Generosity  of. 
 
 A  man  may  be  a  miser  of  his  wealth  ; 
 he  may  tie  up  his  talent  in  a  napkin ;  he 
 may  liug  hhaself  in  his  reputation;  but 
 he  is  always  generous  in  his  love.  Love 
 cannot  stay  at  home;  a  man  cannot  keep 
 it  to  himself.  Like  light,  it  is  constantly 
 travelling.  A  man  must  spend  it,  must 
 give  it  away.  Dr.  MacLeod. 
 
 LOVE— Holy. 
 Hail,  holy  love!   thou  word  that  sums  all 
 
 bliss. 
 Gives  and  receives  all  bliss,  fullest  when 
 most 
 
 Thou  glvest !  spring-head  of  all  felicity, 
 Deepest  when  most  is  drawn !  emblem  of 
 
 God! 
 O'erflowing  most  when  greatest  numbers 
 
 drink ! 
 Essence  that  binds  the  uncreated  race, 
 Chain  that  unites  creation  to  its  Lord, 
 Centre  to  which  all  being  gravitates. 
 Eternal,  ever-growing,  happy  love  ! 
 Enduring  all,  hoping,  forgiving  all; 
 Instead  of  law,  fulfilling  every  law  ; 
 Entirely   blest,   because  thou   seek'st    no 
 
 more, 
 Hopest  not,  nor  fearest ;  but  on  the  present 
 
 llv'st. 
 And  hold'st  perfection  smiling  in  thy  arms. 
 Mysterious,  infinite,  exhaustless  love ! 
 On  earth  mysterious,  and  mysterious  still 
 In  heaven ;  sweet  chord,  that  harmonises  all 
 The  harps  of  Paradise!    the  spring,  the 
 
 well. 
 That  fills  the  bowl  and  banquet  of  the  sky. 
 JPoUock. 
 LOVE— Humility  of. 
 
 "  Love  is  not  puflTed  up."  You  cannot 
 wrong  one  you  love.  Therefore,  if  you 
 love  God  with  all  your  heart,  you  cannot 
 so  wrong  Him  as  to  rob  Him  of  His  glory, 
 by  taking  to  yourself  what  Is  due  to  Him 
 only.  You  will  own  that  all  you  have  is 
 His ;  that  without  Him  you  can  do  nothing  ; 
 that  He  is  your  light  and  your  life,  your 
 strength  and  your  all ;  and  that  you  are 
 nothing,  yea,  less  than  nothing,  before  Him. 
 And  if  you  love  your  neighbour  as  yourself, 
 you  will  not  be  able  to  prefer  yourself  before 
 him.  Nay,  you  will  not  be  able  to  despise 
 any  one,  any  more  than  to  hate  him.  As 
 the  wax  melteth  before  the  fire,  so  doth 
 pride  melt  away  before  love.  All  haughti- 
 ness, whether  of  heart,  speech,  or  behaviour, 
 vanishes  away  where  love  prevails.  It 
 bringeth  down  the  high  looks  of  him  who 
 boasted  in  his  strength,  and  maketh  him  as 
 a  little  child ;  diffident  of  himself,  willing 
 to  hear,  glad  to  learn,  easily  convinced, 
 easily  persuaded.  And  whosoever  is  other- 
 wise minded,  let  him  give  up  all  vain 
 hope:  he  is  puffed  up,  and  so  hath  not 
 love.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 LOVE— Influence  of. 
 
 For  valour,  is  not  love  a  Hercules, 
 Still  climbing  trees  in  the  Hesperides? 
 Subtle  as  Sphinx ;  as  sweet  and  musical 
 As   bright  Apollo's  lute,  strung  with  his 
 
 hair ; 
 And,  when  love  speaks,  the  voice  of  all  the 
 
 gods 
 Makes  heaven  drowsy  with  the  harmony. 
 Never  durst  poet  touch  a  pen  to  write, 
 Until  his  ink  were  tempered  with  love's 
 
 sighs; 
 0,  then  his  lines  would  ravish  savage  ears. 
 And  plant  in  tyrants  mild  humility. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
lOVE. 
 
 555 
 
 LC. 
 
 -Kindness  of. 
 
 "Love  is  kind."  Whosoever  feels  the 
 love  of  God  and  man  shed  abroad  in  his 
 heart,  feels  an  ardent  and  uninterrupted 
 thirst  after  the  happiness  of  all  his  fellow- 
 creatures.  His  soul  melts  away  with  the 
 fervent  desire  which  he  hath  continually 
 to  promote  it.  And  out  of  the  abundance 
 of  the  heart  his  mouth  speaketh.  In  his 
 tongue  is  the  law  of  kindness.  The  same 
 is  impressed  upon  all  his  actions.  The 
 flame  within  is  continually  working  itself 
 a  way,  and  spreading  abroad  more  and 
 more,  in  every  instance  of  good-will  to  all 
 with  whom  he  hath  to  do.  So  that,  whether 
 he  thinks  or  speaks,  or  whatever  he  does, 
 it  all  points  to  the  like  end — the  advancing, 
 by  every  possible  way,  the  happiness  of  all 
 his  fellow-creatures.  Deceive  not,  there- 
 fore, your  own  souls;  he  who  is  not  thus 
 kind  hath  not  love.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 LOVE— latitude  of. 
 
 It  is  like  the  sun  in  the  sky,  that  throws 
 his  comfortable  beams  upon  all  and  forbears 
 not  to  warm  even  that  earth  that  beareth 
 weeds.  Love  extends  to  earth  and  heaven. 
 In  heaven  it  affecteth  God,  the  Maker  and 
 Mover;  the  angels,  as  our  guardians;  the 
 triumphant  saints,  for  their  pious  sanctity. 
 On  earth,  it  emhraceth  those  that  fear  the 
 Lord  especially  ;  it  wisheth  conversion  to 
 those  that  do  not ;  it  counsels  the  rich  ;  it 
 comforts  the  poor ;  it  reverenceth  supe- 
 riors, rt specteth  inferiors ;  doth  good  to 
 frifuds,  no  evil  to  foes;  wisheth  well  to  all. 
 This  is  the  latitude  of  love.  T.  Adams. 
 
 Love  one  human  being  purely  and  warm- 
 ly, and  you  will  love  all.  The  heart  in 
 this  heaven,  like  the  wandering  sun,  sees 
 nothing,  from  the  dewdrop  to  the  ocean, 
 but  a  mirror  which  it  warms  and  tills. 
 
 Rlchter. 
 LOVE— Loss  of. 
 
 You  may  pour  out  your  soul,  and  bemoan 
 the  loss  ot  true  genuine  love  in  the  earth. 
 Lost  indeed  !  You  may  well  say  (but  not 
 in  the  ancient  sense),  "  See  how  these 
 Christians  love  one  another  !  These  Chris- 
 tian kingdoms,  that  are  tearing  out  each 
 other's  bowels,  desolating  one  another  with 
 tire  and  sword  1  These  Christian  armies, 
 that  are  sending  each  other  by  thousands, 
 yea,  by  ten  thousands,  quick  into  hell ! 
 These  Christian  nations,  that  are  all  on  fire 
 with  intestine  broils,  party  against  party, 
 faction  against  faction !  These  Christian 
 cities,  where  deceit  and  fraud,  oppression 
 and  wrong,  yea,  robbery  and  murder,  go 
 not  out  of  their  streets.  These  Christian 
 families,  torn  asunder  with  envy,  jealousy, 
 an^er,  domestic  jars,  without  number, 
 wii,ftout  end !     Yea,  what  is  most  dreadful. 
 
 most  to  he  lamented  of  all,  these  Christinu 
 churches!— Churches  ("Tell  it  not  it 
 Gath," — but,  alas !  how  can  we  hide  it 
 either  from  Jews,  Turks,  or  Pagans  ?), 
 that  hear  the  name  of  Christ,  the  Prince 
 of  Peace,  and  wage  continual  war  with 
 each  other  !  that  convert  sinners  by  burn- 
 ing them  alive  !  that  are  "  drunk  with 
 the  blood  of  the  saints  !"  Does  this  praise 
 belong  only  to  "  Babylon  the  Great,  the 
 mother  of  harlots,  and  abominations  of 
 the  earth  ?"  Nay,  verily ;  hut  reformed 
 churches  (so  called)  have  fairly  learned  to 
 tread  in  her  steps.  Protestant  churches, 
 too,  know  how  to  persecute,  when  they 
 have  power  in  their  hands,  even  unto 
 blood.  And  meanwhile,  how  do  they  also 
 anathematise  each  other  ?  Devote  each 
 other  to  the  nethermost  hell !  What  wrath, 
 what  contention,  what  malice,  what  bitter- 
 ness, is  everywhere  found  among  them  ! 
 Even  where  they  agree  in  essentials,  and 
 only  differ  in  opinions,  or  in  the  circum- 
 stantials of  religion.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 LOVE— Might  of. 
 
 Mightier  f\ir 
 Than  strength  of  nerve  and  sinew,  or  the 
 
 sway 
 Of  magic  potent  over  sun  and  star. 
 Is  love,  though  oft  to  agony  distrest. 
 And   though   its   favorite   seat   be    feeble 
 
 woman's  breast.  Shalespeare. 
 
 LOVE— A  Mother's. 
 
 The  intensity  of  maternal  affection  was 
 well  illustrated  in  the  observation  of  a 
 sweet  little  boy,  who,  after  reading  John 
 Bunyan's  '  Pilgrim's  Progress,'  asked  his 
 mother  which  of  the  characters  she  liked 
 best.  She  replied,  "  Christian,  of  course  ; 
 he  is  the  hero  of  the  story."  The  dear 
 child  responded  :  "  Mothei',  /  like  Chris- 
 tiana best,  because  when  Christian  set  out 
 on  his  pilgrimage  he  went  alone,  but  when 
 Christiana  started  she  took  the  chldren 
 with  her."  Anon. 
 
 The  love  of  a  mother  is  never  exhausted, 
 it  never  changes,  it  never  tires.  A  father 
 may  turn  his  back  on  his  child,  brothers 
 and  sisters  may  become  inveterate  enemies, 
 husbands  may  desert  their  wives,  wives 
 their  husbands.  But  a  mother's  love  en- 
 dures through  all ;  in  good  repute,  in  bad 
 repute,  in  the  face  of  the  world's  condem- 
 nation, a  mother  still  loves  on,  and  still 
 hopes  that  her  child  may  turn  from  his 
 evil  ways  and  repent ;  still  she  remembei-s 
 the  infant  smiles  that  once  filled  her  bosom' 
 with  rapture,  the  merry  laugh,  the  joyful 
 shout  of  childhood;  the  opening  promise 
 of  his  youth ;  and  she  can  never  be  brought 
 to  tUiwk  him  unworthy. 
 
 Washington  Irving 
 
556 
 
 lOVE. 
 
 LOVE— A  Mother's. 
 
 A  mother's  love ! 
 
 If  there  he  one  thing  pure, 
 
 Where  all  beside  is  sullied ! 
 
 That  can  endui-e, 
 
 When  all  else  pass  away; 
 
 If  there  be  aught 
 Surpassing     human    deed,    or    word,    or 
 thought — 
 
 It  is  a  mother's  love ! 
 
 MarcJiioness  de  Spadara. 
 
 There  is  in  all  this  cold  and  hollow  world 
 
 no  fount 
 Of  deep,  strong,  deathless  love,  save  that 
 
 within 
 A  mother's  heart.  Mrs.  Hemans. 
 
 'Tis  now  become  a  record  little  known, 
 That  once  we  call'd  the  pastoral  house  our 
 
 own. 
 Short-lived  possession !  but  the  record  fair. 
 That  memory  keeps  of  all   thy  kindness 
 
 there, 
 Still  outlives  many  a  storm,  that  has  effaced 
 A  thousand  other  themes  less  deeply  traced. 
 Thy  nightly  visits  to  my  chamber  made. 
 That   thou   might'st   know   me   safe   and 
 
 warmly  laid ; 
 Thy  morning  bounties  ere  I  left  my  home. 
 The  biscuit  or  confectionery  plum  ; 
 The  fragrant  waters  on  my  cheeks  bestow'd 
 By  thine  own  hand,  till  fresh  they  shone 
 
 and  glow'd. 
 All  this,  and  more  endearing  still  than  all, 
 Thy  constant  flow  of  love  that  knew  no 
 
 fall. 
 All  this  may  still  be  read  in  memory's  page, 
 And  shall  be  so  unto  my  latest  age.  Anon. 
 
 LOVE— Perfection  in. 
 
 By  faith  we  live  upon  God,  by  obedience 
 we  live  to  Him;  but  it  is  by  love  alone 
 that  we  live  in  Him.  And  how  pure  and 
 fchaste  must  that  soul  be  that  is  purged  of 
 all  created  loves,  and  in  whom  the  love  of 
 God  reigns  absolute  and  unrivalled,  with- 
 out any  mixture  or  competition !  How 
 secure  must  he  needs  be  from  sin,  when  he 
 has  not  that  in  him  which  may  betray  him 
 to  it !  The  tempter  may  come,  but  he  will 
 find  nothing  in  him  to  take  hold  of;  the 
 world  may  spread  round  about  him  a 
 poisonous  breath,  but  it  will  not  hurt  him  ; 
 the  very  clearness  of  his  constitution  will 
 guard  him  from  the  infection.  He  has  but 
 one  love  at  all  in  his  heart,  and  that  is  for 
 God;  and  how  can  he  that  loves  nothing 
 but  God  be  tempted  to  transgress  against 
 Him,  when  he  has  nothing  to  separate  him 
 from  Him,  and  all  that  is  necessary,  per- 
 haps all  that  is  possible,  to  unite  him  to 
 Him  ?  What  is  there  that  shall  tempt 
 such  a  man  to  sin;  and  what  temptation 
 is  there  that  he  has  not  to  incite  him  to 
 
 all  goodness ;  and  what  a  wonderful  pro- 
 gress must  he  needs  make  in  it  ?  Whither 
 will  not  the  entire  love  of  God  carry  him  ? 
 and  to  what  degrees  of  Christian  perfec- 
 tion will  he  not  aspire,  under  the  conduct 
 of  so  Divine,  so  omnipotent  a  principle  ? 
 
 Norris. 
 LOVE— Pleasure  in. 
 
 All  love  hath  complacency  or  pleasure  in 
 the  nature  and  most  formal  notion  of  it. 
 To  search  for  pleasure  in  love  is  the  same 
 thing  as  if  a  man  should  be  solicitous  to 
 find  water  in  the  sea,  or  light  in  the  body 
 of  the  sun.  J.  Howe. 
 
 LOVE— Primeval. 
 
 This  affection,  in  the  state  of  innocence, 
 was  happily  pitched  upon  its  right  object ; 
 it  flamed  up  in  direct  fervours  of  devotion 
 to  God,  and  in  collateral  emissions  of 
 cha:-ity  to  its  neighbour.  It  was  not  then 
 only  another  and  more  cleanly  name  for 
 lust.  It  had  none  of  those  impure  heats 
 that  both  represent  and  deserve  hell.  It 
 was  a  vestal  and  a  virgin  fire,  and  differed 
 as  much  from  that  which  usually  passes  by 
 this  name  now-a-days,  as  the  vital  heat 
 from  the  burning  of  a  fever.        Dr.  South. 
 
 LOVE— Reward  of. 
 
 Thy  love 
 Shall  chant  itself  its  own  beatitudes. 
 After  its  own  life  working.     A  child-kiss. 
 Set  on  thy  sighing  lips,  shall  make  thee 
 
 glad; 
 A  poor  man,  served  by  thee,  shall  make 
 
 thee  rich; 
 A  rich  man,  helped'  by  thee,  shall  make 
 
 thee  strong; 
 Thou   shalt   be   served  thyself   by   every 
 
 sense 
 Of  service  which  thou  renderest. 
 
 E.  B.  Browning, 
 
 LOVE— Satisfaction  of. 
 
 Be  thou,  O  love,  whate'er  I  want ; 
 
 Support  my  feebleness  of  mind; 
 Relieve  the  thirsty  soul,  the  faint 
 
 Revive,  illuminate  the  blind ; 
 The  mournful  cheer,  the  drooping  lead. 
 And  heal  the  sick  and  raise  the  dead. 
 
 Come,  O  my  comfort  and  delight ! 
 
 My  strength  and  health,  my  shield  and 
 sun; 
 My  boast,  and  confidence,  and  might, 
 
 My  joy,  my  glory,  and  my  crown  ; 
 My  Gospel  hope,  my  calling's  prize, 
 My  tree  of  life,  my  paradise.       C.  Wesley. 
 
 LOVE— the  Seal  of  God. 
 
 Love  is  God's  seal  upon  the  universe — 
 The  hand  and  sign  of  His  omnipotence  ; 
 And  hearts  enshrining  love  the  most  on 
 
 earth 
 Find  here  the  most  of  heaven.  Swain. 
 
lOVE. 
 
 557 
 
 lOVE— Seasons  of. 
 
 The  autumn  of  love 
 
 Is  the  season  of  cheer — 
 Life's  mild  Indian  summer. 
 
 The  smile  of  the  year ; 
 Which  comes  when  the  golden 
 
 Ilijje  harvest  is  stored  j 
 And  yields  its  own  blessings — 
 
 Repose  and  reward. 
 
 The  winter  of  love 
 
 Is  the  beam  that  we  win, 
 While  the  storm  scowls  without 
 
 From  the  sunshine  within. 
 Love's  reign  is  eternal. 
 
 The  heart  is  his  throne. 
 And  he  has  all  seasons 
 
 Of  life  for  his  own.  Morris. 
 
 LOVE— A  Sister's. 
 
 No  love  is  like  a  sister's  love, 
 
 Unselfish,  free,  and  pure — 
 A  flame  that,  lighted  from  above. 
 
 Will  guide,  but  ne'er  allure. 
 It  knows  no  form  of  jealous  fear. 
 
 No  blush  of  conscious  guile  ; 
 Its  wrongs  are  pardon'd  through  a  tear. 
 
 Its  hopes  crown'd  by  a  smile.        ^''J/- 
 
 LOVE— Strength  of. 
 
 Tlie  strength  of  affection  is  a  proof  not 
 of  the  worthiness  of  the  object,  but  of  the 
 largeness  of  the  soul  which  loves.  Love 
 descends,  not  ascends.  The  might  of  a 
 river  depends  not  on  the  quality  of  the  soil 
 through  which  it  passes,  but  on  the  inex- 
 haustibleness  and  depth  of  the  spring  from 
 which  it  proceeds.  The  greater  mind 
 cleaves  to  the  smaller  with  more  force  than 
 the  other  to  it.  A  parent  loves  the  child 
 more  than  the  child  loves  the  parent ;  and 
 partly  because  the  parent's  heart  is  larger, 
 not  ijecause  the  child  is  worthier.  The 
 Saviour  loved  His  disciples  infinitely  more 
 than  His  disciples  loved  Him,  because  His 
 heart  was  infinitely  larger. 
 
 F.  W.  Eobertson. 
 
 LOVE — Superior  to  Faith  and  Hope. 
 
 1.  More  honorable,  because  like  God. 
 2.  More  noble,  because  more  beneficial  to 
 man.  3.  More  communicable,  for  faith 
 respects  thyself,  charity  all.  4.  More 
 durable;  when  faith  is  swallowed  up  in 
 vision,  hope  in  possession,  then  love  re- 
 mains. 5.  For  titles.  6.  For  manifes- 
 tation, T.  Adams. 
 
 LOVE— Superior  to  Intelligence. 
 
 "  Though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy, 
 and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  know- 
 ledge, and  have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing." 
 Wisdom  has  had  its  votaries.  But  many 
 that  have  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  philo- 
 sopher have  repudiated  the  love  of  God. 
 Tiiough  it  is  much  changed  now,  ther*  ivas 
 
 a  time  in  our  land  when  high  places  in 
 science  were  seats  of  the  scoffer.  Nor  are 
 we  yet  devoid  of  affecting  instances  in 
 which  the  greatest  gifts  in  the  wisdom  of 
 the  world  are  allied  to  the  folly  of  denying 
 God  and  His  Gospel.  Even  prophets  have 
 lacked  the  charity  that  saves.  Balaam 
 could  utter  the  thoughts  of  God,  and  the 
 purposes  formed  for  the  future, — he  could 
 see  across  the  vista  of  centuries  of  Jewish 
 history  to  the  rise  of  the  Star  of  Jacob ; 
 yet  his  heart  knew  no  love  to  God,  nor  had 
 any  affinity  to  the  Holy  One.  Judas  had 
 knowledge  of  Divine  mysteries,  preached  a 
 Saviour's  name,  yet  betrayed  his  Master, 
 and  died  a  despairing  suicide.  Halley 
 could  trace  a  comet's  erratic  path,  and  cal- 
 culate its  return  after  the  lapse  of  centu- 
 ries, and  yet  eject  his  atheism  in  the  study 
 of  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  Goethe  could  pene- 
 trate the  secrets  of  nature,  and  rise  to  the 
 sublimities  of  genius,  while  setting  mora- 
 lity at  defiance  by  his  unbridled  passions 
 at  Wiemar.  Michaelis,  while  possessing 
 all  knowledge  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek 
 roots  of  Holy  Writ,  could  ignore  from  his 
 theology  and  from  his  heart  the  work  of 
 the  Spirit,  and  declare  that  if  there  be 
 such  a  special  influence  as  divines  had 
 taught,  he  for  one  never  felt  it. 
 
 H.  Steele. 
 
 LOVE — Superior  to  Language. 
 
 "  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of 
 men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity, 
 I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tink- 
 ling cymbal."  It  is  quite  possible  to  attain 
 the  highest  position  in  language,  and  be 
 able  to  speak  your  way  through  all  the 
 civilised  world,  and  yet  be  devoid  of  that 
 which  makes  a  communication  between 
 God  and  your  soul. 
 
 It  is  possible  to  wield  an  eloquence  that 
 could  sway  the  stormiest  assemblies, — like 
 that  of  Demosthenes,  or  Mirabeau,  or 
 Sheridan ;  and  yet,  like  them,  be  devoid  of 
 the  influence  which  has  power  with  God. 
 Many  strings  may  produce  but  a  discord, 
 grating  on  the  ear ;  but  Paganini  could 
 make  one  string  of  his  violin  thrill  a 
 thousand  auditors.  The  possession  of  all 
 tongues  may  be  but  a  Babel  at  the  best, 
 when  the  love  of  God  is  lacking  to  make 
 their  music  harmony;  but  the  single 
 element  of  Christian  charity  is  music  in 
 the  ear  of  God.  It  is  not  the  thunder's 
 solemn  peal,  nor  the  ocean's  billowy  roar, 
 nor  the  howling  wind  of  desolation,  nor 
 the  thousand  voices  of  creation,  that  attest 
 most  of  the  character  of  God  to  us ;  it  is 
 His  love  in  the  gift  of  His  Son  that  reveals 
 Him  most  illustriously.  This  still  small 
 voice,  and  neither  earthquake,  wind,  nor 
 fire,  speaks  most  affectingly  to  men  for 
 God.  In  like  manner,  the  language  of  the 
 heart  is  more  esteemed  by  God  than  the 
 
S58 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 utterance  of  ten  thousand  tongues  of  angels 
 and  of  men.  II.  Steele. 
 
 LOVE— Supremacy  of. 
 
 Love,  amid  the  other  graces  in  this 
 world,  •  is  like  a  cathedral  tower,  which 
 begins  on  the  earth,  and,  at  first,  is  sur- 
 rounded by  the  other  parts  of  the  struc- 
 ture. Bat  at  length,  rising  above  but- 
 tressed wall,  and  arch,  and  parapet,  and 
 pinnai'le,  it  shoots  spire-like  many  a  foot 
 right  into  the  air,  so  high  that  the  huge 
 cross  on  its  summit  glows  like  a  spark  in 
 the  morning  light,  and  shines  like  a  star 
 in  the  evening  sky,  when  the  rest  of  the 
 pile  is  enveloped  in  darkness.  So  Love 
 here  is  surrounded  by  the  other  graces, 
 and  divides  the  honours  with  them ;  but 
 they  will  have  felt  the  wrap  of  night,  and 
 darkness,  when  it  will  shine,  luminous, 
 against  the  sky  of  eternity. 
 
 E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 Love  is  the  greatest  thing  that  God  can 
 give  us,  for  Himself  is  love ;  and  it  is  the 
 greatest  thing  we  can  give  to  God,  for  it 
 will  also  give  ourselves,  and  carry  with  it 
 all  that  is  ours.  The  apostle  calls  it  the 
 hand  of  perfection ;  it  is  the  old,  and  it  is 
 the  new,  and  it  is  the  great  commandment, 
 and  it  is  all  the  commandments,  for  it  is 
 the  fulfiUbig  of  the  law.  It  does  the  work 
 of  all  the  other  graces,  without  any  instru- 
 ment but  its  own  immediate  virtue. 
 
 Bj}.  Taylor. 
 LOVE— Thanks  for. 
 
 For  the  love  of  the  true  hearted. 
 Thanks  we  give  thee,  Lord  of  love ; 
 
 Truest  treasure  Thou  hast  given, 
 
 Fairest  link  'tvvixt  earth  and  heaven, 
 Sunshine  from  above. 
 
 May  this  love  that  Thou  hast  given. 
 
 Light,  and  hope,  and  joy  to  be  j 
 Filling  all  our  lives  with  meaning, 
 Teaching  truest  strength  in  leaning. 
 Draw  us  nearer  Thee. 
 
 For  the  love  Thou  sendest  shows  us 
 
 How  that  stronger  love  must  glow. 
 By  its  very  depth  i-evealing 
 Other  depths  of  deeper  feeling 
 God  alone  can  know. 
 
 Teaching  us  of  love  unuttered, 
 
 Ever  springing,  ever  new. 
 Whose  unfathomed  depth  and  beauty 
 Cheer  our  sorrows,  gild  our  duty, 
 
 Perfect,  constant,  true.  L.  E. 
 
 LOVE— Trusting. 
 
 It  is  trustiufi  love  that  makes  men  what 
 they  are  trusted  to  be,  so  realising  itself. 
 Would  you  make  men  trustworthy  ?  Trust 
 them.  Would  you  make  them  true  ? 
 Believe  them.  This  was  the  real  force  of 
 that  sublime  battle-cry  which  no  English- 
 
 man hears  without  emotion.  When  the 
 crews  of  the  fleet  of  Britain  knew  that 
 they  were  expected  to  do  their  duty,  they 
 did  their  duty.  They  felt  in  that  spirit- 
 stirring  sentence  that  they  were  trusted  ; 
 and  the  simultaneous  cheer  that  rose  from 
 every  ship  was  a  forerunner  of  victory — 
 the  battle  was  half  won  already.  They 
 went  to  serve  a  country  which  expected 
 from  them  great  things ;  and  they  did 
 great  things.  Those  pregnant  words  raised 
 an  enthusiasm  for  the  chieftain  who  had 
 thrown  himself  upon  his  men  in  trust, 
 which  a  double  line  of  hostile  ships  could 
 not  appal,  nor  decks  drenched  in  bloo  1 
 extinguish.  And  it  is  on  this  principle 
 that  Christ  wins  the  hearts  of  His  i-e-* 
 deemed.  JP.  W.  Rohertnon. 
 
 LOVE— Unalterableness  of. 
 
 Love  is  not  love. 
 Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds  j 
 0  no  ;  it  is  an  ever  fixed  mark. 
 That    looks    on   tempests,   and   is   never 
 
 shaken ; 
 It  is  the  star  to  every  wandering  bark, 
 Whose  worth's  unknowu.        Shakespeare. 
 
 LOVE— Undying. 
 
 They  sin  who  tell  us  love  can  die : 
 With  life  all  other  passions  fiy, 
 
 All  others  are  but  vanity. 
 In  heaven  ambition  cannot  dwell ; 
 Nor  avarice  in  the  vaults  of  hell ; 
 Earthly  these  passions  of  the  earth. 
 They  perish  where  they  have  their  birth ; 
 
 But  love  is  indestructible. 
 Its  holy  riame  for  ever  burneth. 
 From  heaven  it  came,  to  heaven  returneth ; 
 Too  oft  on  earth  a  ti'oubled  guest. 
 At  times  deceived,  at  times  opprest, 
 
 It  here  is  tried  and  purified. 
 Then  hath  in  heaven  its  perfect  rest. 
 It  soweth  here  in  toil  and  care. 
 But  the  harvest  time  of  love  is  there. 
 
 Dr.  Soutliey. 
 LOVE— Unselfishness  of. 
 
 Love  seeketh  not  her  own — her  own 
 happiness,  wealth,  honours,  emoluments. 
 Her  action  is  communicative  more  than 
 receptive.  Of  this  we  have  a  symbol  in 
 the  sun,  which  is  ever  imparting  liis  bene- 
 fits to  earth,  but  partaking  of  none  in 
 return.  God  is  the  most  glorious  image 
 of  this  view  of  love.  In  seeking  to  restore 
 fallen  man  to  Himself,  He  does  not  seek 
 His  own  happiness,  wealth,  honours,  einolu- 
 ments.  Of  these  He  has  an  infinite  suffi- 
 ciency, and  can  receive  no  more.  He  seeks 
 man,  for  man's  own  good.  There  are  in- 
 stances to  be  found  among  Christians  whose 
 love  in  its  action  seeketh  not  her  own. 
 Self  and  selfishness  are  forgotten,  and  the 
 well-being  of  others  connected   with  the 
 
LOVE— LOVE  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 559 
 
 glory  of  God  form  tTie  pure  motive.     May 
 the  number  greatly  increase ! 
 
 Joihn  Hate. 
 LOVE— Unstable. 
 
 He  loved  Amye,  till  he  saw  Floriat,  and 
 when  he  saw  Cynthia,  forgot  them  both  ; 
 but  fair  Phillis  was  incomparably  beyond 
 them  all:  Clorris  surpassed  her,  and  yet 
 when  he  espied  Amaryllis,  she  was  his  sole 
 mistress.  O  divine  Amaryllis  !  how  lovely, 
 how  tall,  how  comely  she  was,  till  he  saw 
 another,  and  then  she  was  the  sole  subject 
 of  his  thoughts.  In  tine,  her  he  loves  best 
 he  saw  last.  H.  Burton, 
 
 LOVE— Vanished. 
 
 Call  back  the  dew 
 That  on  the  rose  at  morn  was  lying ; 
 When  the  day  is  dying, 
 Bid  the  sunbeam  stay  : 
 Call  back  the  wave 
 E'en  while  the  ebbing  tide's  receding. 
 Oh  !  all  unheeding 
 Of  thy  voice  are  they. 
 As  vain  the  call 
 Distraction  makes  on  love  departed ; 
 When  the  broken-hearted 
 Bitter  tears  let  fall : 
 Dew  and  sunshine,  wave  and  flower. 
 Renew' d,  return  at  destined  hour. 
 But  never  yet  was  known  the  power 
 Could  vanish'd  love  recall. 
 
 Blcl-ens. 
 LOVE— ViTorks  of. 
 
 Survey,  with  admiration  and  delight, 
 the  mighty  operations  and  the  splendid 
 achievements  of  this  powerful  and  be- 
 nevolent principle,  as  they  are  to  be 
 seen  within,  and  only  within,  the  hal- 
 lowed pale  of  Christianity.  What  are 
 all  the  numerous  and  diversified  insti- 
 tutions in  our  own  land,  where  houseless 
 poverty  has  found  a  home ;  craving  hun- 
 ger a  supply ;  forsaken  infancy  a  protec- 
 tor ;  helpless  age  a  refuge ;  ignorance  an 
 instructor  ;  jjenitence  a  comforter  ;  virtue 
 a  defence;  but  the  triumphs  and  glories 
 of  love  ?  What  are  all  those  sublime  com- 
 binations of  human  energies,  property,  and 
 influence,  which  have  been  formed  for  the 
 illumination,  reformation,  and  salvation  of 
 the  human  race  ?  What  are  Bible  Societies, 
 Missionary  Societies,  Tract  Societies,  Anti- 
 slavery  Societies,  Peace  Societies, — but  the 
 mighty  monuments  of  that  love  "  which 
 seeketh  not  her  own,  and  is  kind  ?"  What 
 are  the  tears  of  commiseration,  which  flow 
 for  human  sorrows,  but  the  drops  that  fall 
 from  the  eye  of  love  ?  What  the  joy  that 
 is  excited  by  the  sight  of  happiness,  but 
 the  smiles  of  love  ?  What  was  it  that 
 made  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
 willing  not  only  to  bear  any  accumulation 
 of  suflering,  indignity,  and  reproach,  but 
 to  pour  out  his  blood   as   a  libation  for 
 
 others,  and  even  to  be  accursed  from 
 Christ,  and  from  mankind  in  general,  tor 
 his  kinsmen  ?     Love  !  J.  A.  James. 
 
 LOVE  OF  CHRIST— Endurance  of  the. 
 
 "  Having  loved  His  own  which  were  in 
 the  world,  He  loved  them  unto  the  end  " 
 (John  xiii,  1).  Herein  is  love  !  Wonder- 
 ful, enduring  love !  The  dear  Redeemer 
 standing,  as  it  were,  on  the  extremest  edge 
 of  His  last  and  most  dren.dful  conflict,  with 
 all  the  intenseness  of  His  suft'erings  full  in, 
 view — when  it  might  be  thought  He  would 
 be  swallowed  up  iu  contemplation  of  His 
 own  awful  prospects — He  was  so  far  from 
 forgetting  "  His  own,"  who  were  still  for  a 
 season  struggling  "  in  the  world,"  after  He 
 had  departed  oixt  of  it  unto  His  Father, 
 that  in  His  tender  care  and  loving  thoughts 
 for  them  H6  seemed  hardly  to  think  of 
 Himself,  except  in  relation  with  them. 
 His  love  not  only  endured  "  unto  the  end," 
 but  most  aftectingly  and  clearly  manifested 
 itself  when,  judging  from  a  mere  human 
 standpoint,  it  was  least  to  be  expected. 
 He  loved  His  own  in  His  life  and  death  here 
 below.  He  loves  "  His  own  "  in  His  life 
 and  glory  above.  He  will  still  love  "  His 
 own  "  when,  in  great  power  and  majesty, 
 He  comes  to  reign  for  ever.         Medkurst. 
 
 LOVE  OF  CHRIST— Greatness  of  the. 
 
 It  is  an  axiom  of  Biblical  truth — ■ 
 "Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that 
 a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friend  :" 
 and  we  have  here  and  there  a  beautiful, 
 though  dim,  legend  of  some  heroic  hus- 
 band, some  heroic  wife,  who  for  the  love 
 which  they  bore  to  each  other,  did  literally 
 die  for  each  other.  There  are  in  the  facts 
 of  profane  history  a  few  dim,  shadowy 
 outlines,  a  few  scanty,  dishevelled  notices 
 of  such  occurrences  as  these — that  when  the 
 oracle  gave  any  individual  the  alternative 
 of  dying  for  another,  some  such  individuals 
 have  counted  it  a  sweet  and  sacred  thing 
 to  die,  and  have  died  for  their  love  of  an- 
 other— for  their  wife,  for  their  husband. 
 Such  are  the  tales  of  profane  history  (and 
 there  are  not  half  a  dozen  of  them  iu  the 
 six  thousand  years  of  this  world's  history), 
 such  are  the  stories  that  have  come  down 
 to  us  of  the  triumphs  of  human  love,  of 
 the  achievements  of  human  afl'ection.  But 
 there  is  not  one  recorded  of  a  person  dying 
 for  his  enemy.  We  have  instances  of  a 
 person  dying  for  his  I'riend,  an  attached 
 friend  1  No  doubt  David  or  Jonathan 
 would  have  died  the  one  for  the  other  : 
 David  would  have  died  for  Jonathan,  or 
 Jonathan  would  have  died  for  David,  if  there 
 had  been  occasion  •  such  was  the  love  tliey 
 bore  one  to  anotlier.  But  the  love  of 
 Christ  was  not  for  His  friends,  but  for  His 
 adversaries ;  not  for  His  lovers,  but  for  Ills 
 
560 
 
 LOVE  OP  CHRIST— LOVE  TO  CHRIST. 
 
 enemies.     "  Herein   is  love,  not  tliat  we 
 loved  God,  but  that  God  loved  us." 
 
 Br.  Beaumont. 
 
 LOVE  OP  CHRIST— Knowledge  of  the. 
 
 It  is  a  peculiar  kind  of  expression  (Eph. 
 iii,  19)  where  the  apostle  prays  that  they 
 might  "know  the  love  of  Christ  which 
 passeth  knowledge."  We  may  know  ex- 
 perimentally that  which  we  cannot  know 
 comprehensively;  we  may  know  that  in 
 its  power  and  effect  which  we  cannot  com- 
 prehend in  its  nature  and  depths.  A 
 weary  person  may  receive  refreshment 
 from  a  spring,  who  cannot  fathom  the 
 depth  of  the  ocean  from  whence  it  proceeds. 
 Dr.  J.  Owen. 
 
 LOVE  TO  CHRIST— through  Paith. 
 
 It  is  no  real  hindrance  to  us  in  loving 
 Christ  that  we  have  not  seen  Him.  Ex- 
 perience shows  that  objects  of  faith  may 
 engage  our  affections  quite  as  effectually  as 
 objects  of  sight.  The  illustrious  patriots 
 and  martyrs  of  bygone  ages  command  our 
 admiration,  though  we  have  never  seen 
 them.  And  as  regards  our  blessed  Lord, 
 it  is  certain  that  He  was  not  more  truly 
 loved  by  His  disciples  who  saw  His  face  in 
 the  flesh  than  He  still  is  by  thousands 
 upon  thousands  who  know  Him  only  from 
 the  records  of  the  past.     J.  M.  M'CuUoch. 
 
 LOVE  TO  CHRIST— Proof  of. 
 
 The  king  of  Armenia  not  fulfilling  his 
 engagement,  Cyrus  entered  the  country, 
 and  having  taken  him  and  all  his  family 
 prisoners,  ordered  them  instantly  before  him. 
 
 "  Armenius,"  said  he,  "  you  are  free ;  for 
 you  are  now  sensible  of  your  error.  And 
 what  will  you  give  me  if  I  restore  your 
 wife  to  you  ?" 
 
 "  All  that  I  am  able." 
 
 "  What  if  I  restore  your  children  ?" 
 
 "All  that  I  am  able." 
 
 "  And  you,  Tigranes,"  said  he,  turning 
 to  the  son,  "  what  would  i/ou  do  to  save 
 your  wife  from  servitude  ?" 
 
 Now  Tigranes  was  but  lately  married, 
 and  had  a  great  love  for  his  wife.  "  Cyrus," 
 he  replied,  "  to  save  her  from  servitude,  I 
 would  willingly  lay  down  my  life." 
 
 "  Let  each  have  his  own  again,"  said 
 Cyrus )  and  when  he  had  departed,  one 
 spoke  of  his  clemency,  another  of  his  valour, 
 another  of  the  beauty  and  the  graces  of  his 
 person ;  upon  which  Tigi-anes  asked  his 
 wife  "  if  she  thought  him  handsome  ?" 
 
 "  Really,"  said  she,  "  I  did  not  look  at 
 him." 
 
 "At  whom,  then,  did  you  look  ?" 
 
 "At  him  who  offered  to  lay  down  his 
 life  for  me  !" 
 
 Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that 
 he  should  lay  down  his  life  for  hi?  friends. 
 Tigranes  was  willing  to  die  for  his  wife. 
 
 But  while  we  were  yet  enemies  Christ  died 
 for  us.  How  far  this  love  all  earthly  love 
 excels ! 
 
 The  wife  of  Tigranes  did  not  look  at  the 
 king  in  his  beauty.  She  could  only  look 
 on  him  who  was  willing  to  die  for  her. 
 What  shall  vje  desire  in  heaven  more  than 
 to  look  on  the  face  of  Him  who  did  die 
 for  us  ?  There  is  beauty,  glory,  infinitely 
 resplendent  glory  in  heaven,  and  eye  hath 
 not  seen  nor  heart  conceived  it,  hut  nothing 
 there  will  so  attract  the  believer's  gaze  as 
 the  face  of  Him  who  gave  His  life  for  sin- 
 ners. Wonderful  love  !  unspeakable  love  ! 
 And  we  may  look  on  Him  and  love  Him 
 for  ever.  Anon. 
 
 LOVE  TO  CHRIST— Signs  of. 
 
 Love  to  Christ,  wherever  it  exists,  has 
 signs  following  it  to  certify  its  presence. 
 It  is  not  a  mere  glow  of  feeling,  which 
 warms  the  heart  for  a  moment,  and  then 
 vanishes,  leaving  no  trace  behind.  It  is 
 an  affection,  a  settled  mood  of  mind,  an 
 active  sentiment,  whii'h  cannot  but  tell  on 
 the  temper  and  life.  Where  it  is  present,  it 
 must  make  its  presence  felt.  Like  Mary's 
 box  of  fragrant  Ointment,  it  must  fill  the 
 house  with  its  odour. 
 
 We  may  know  whether  we  love  the  un- 
 seen Saviour.  1.  By  the  general  tenor  of 
 our  thoughts.  2.  By  our  treatment  of 
 His  Word.  3.  By  our  feelings  and  con- 
 duct towards  His  people. 
 
 J.  M.  M'CuUoch. 
 
 LOVE  TO  CHRIST— No  Substitute  for. 
 
 Christ  will  not  take  sermons,  prayers, 
 fastings — no,  nor  giving  our  goods,  nor 
 the  burning  of  our  bodies — instead  of  love. 
 And  do  we  love  Him,  and  yet  care  not  how 
 long  we  are  from  Him  ?  Was  it  such  a  joy 
 to  Jacob  to  see  the  face  of  Joseph  in 
 Egypt,  and  shall  we  be  contented  without 
 the  sight  of  Christ  in  glory,  and  yet  say  we 
 love  Him  ?  I  dare  not  conclude  that  we 
 have  no  love  at  all  when  we  are  so  loath 
 to  die ;  but  I  dare  say,  were  our  love  more, 
 we  should  die  more  willingly  ;  by  our  un- 
 willingness to  die,  it  appears  we  are  little 
 weary  of  sin.  Did  we  take  sin  for  the 
 greatest  evil,  we  should  not  be  willing  to 
 have  its  company  so  long.  Baxter. 
 
 LOVE  TO  CHRIST— Value  of. 
 
 Have  you  a  friend  at  court — at  heaven's 
 court  ?  Is  the  Lord  Jesus  your  Friend  ? 
 Can  you  say  that  you  love  Him,  and  has 
 He  ever  revealed  Himself  in  the  way  of 
 love  to  you  ?  Oh !  to  be  able  to  say, 
 "  Christ  is  my  Friend,"  is  one  of  the  sweet- 
 est things  in  the  world.  The  love  of  Christ 
 casts  not  out  the  love  of  relatives,  but  it 
 sanctifies  our  creature  love,  and  makes  it 
 sweeter  far.  Earthly  love  is  sweet,  but  it 
 must  pass  away  j   and  wl-at  will  you  do  if 
 
lOVE  TO  GOD— LOVE  TO  GOD  AND  MAN. 
 
 561 
 
 you  have  no  wealtli  but  the  wealth  which 
 liideth,  and  no  love  but  the  love  which  dies, 
 when  death  shall  come  ?  Oh,  to  have  the 
 love  of  Christ !  You  can  take  that  across 
 the  river  of  death  with  you  ;  you  can  wear 
 it  as  your  jewel  in  heaven,  and  set  it  as  a 
 seal  upon  your  head ;  for  His  love  is 
 "strong  as  death  and  mightier  than  the 
 grave."  i'.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 LOVE  OF  GOD— Fecundity  of  the. 
 
 Love  is  the  root   of  creation  ;    God's   es- 
 sence ;  worlds  without  number 
 
 Lie  in  His  bosom  like  children ;  He  made 
 them  for  this  purpose  only. 
 
 Only  to  love  and  to   be  loved  again,  He 
 breathed  forth  His  spirit 
 
 Into   the    slumbering  dust,    and   upright 
 standing,  it  laid  its 
 
 Hand  on  its  heart,  and  felt  it  was  warm 
 with  a  flame  out  of  heaven. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 LOVE  OF  GOD— Greatness  of  the. 
 Not  father,  nor  mother 
 
 Loved  you,   as   God   has  loved  you ;    for 
 'twas  that  you  may  be  happy 
 
 Gave-  He  His  only  Sou  ;  when  He  bowed 
 down  His  head  in  the  death-hour 
 
 Soleuiuized  Love  its  triumph ;  the  sacriilce 
 there  was  completed.  Ibid. 
 
 LOVE  OF  GOD— in  Heaven. 
 
 And  what  do  we  think  of  the  ravishing 
 aspects  of  His  love,  when  it  shall  now  be 
 open-faced,  and  have  laid  aside  its  veil ; 
 when  His  amiable  smiles  shall  be  checkered 
 with  no  intermingled  frowns  ;  the  light  of 
 that  pleasing  countenance  be  obscured  by 
 no  intervening  cloud !  when  goodness, 
 which  is  love  issuing  into  benefaction,  or 
 doing  good — grace,  which  adds  freeness 
 unto  goodness — mercy,  which  is  grace 
 towards  the  miserable — shall  conspire  in 
 their  distinct  and  variegated  appearance 
 to  set  off  each  other,  and  enhance  the 
 pleasure  of  the  admiring  soul !  When  the 
 wonted  doubts  shall  all  cease,  and  the  diffi- 
 culty vanish,  of  reconciling  once  necessary 
 fatherly  severity  with  love !  when  the 
 full  sense  shall  be  unfolded  to  the  life  of 
 that  description  of  the  Divine  nature, 
 "  God  is  love  :  "  and  the  soul  be  no  longer 
 put  to  read  the  love  of  God  in  His  name,  as 
 Moses  was  when  the  sight  of  His  face  could 
 not  yet  be  obtained ;  shall  not  need  to 
 spell  it  by  letters  and  syllables ;  but  be- 
 hold it  in  his  very  nature  itself,  and  see 
 how  intimately  essential  it  is  to  the  Divine 
 Being — how  glorious  will  this  appearance 
 of  God  be  !  John  Howe. 
 
 LOVE  OF  GOD-Indescribahle. 
 
 Could  1  with  ink  the  ocean  fill. 
 Were  the  whole  earth  of  parchment  made, 
 Were  every  blade  of  grass  a  quill, 
 And  every  man  a  scribe  by  trade  ; 
 
 To  write  the  love  of  God  above 
 Would  drain  that  ocean  dry  ; 
 Nor  could  the  scroll  contain  the  whole 
 Though  spread  from  sky  to  sky.      Anon. 
 
 LOVE  OF  GOD— Remembrancers  of  the. 
 There's  not  a  strain  to  memory  dear, 
 
 Nor  flower  in  classic  grove, 
 There's  not  a  sweet  note  warbled  here, 
 
 But  minds  us  of  Thy  love. 
 0  Lord,  our  Lord,  and  spoiler  of  our  foes, 
 There  is  no  light  but  Thine;  with  Thee 
 all  beauty  glows.  J.  Kcola. 
 
 LOVE  TO  GOD— Abiding. 
 
 Health  does  not  last ;  to  value  it  highly 
 is  to  make  a  bad  calculation,  lliches  de- 
 part ;  to  cling  to  them  is  to  make  a  bad 
 calculation.  Science  deceives,  to  devote 
 yourself  to  it  is  to  make  a  bad  calculation. 
 Husband,  wife,  children,  often  betray,  and 
 always  die ;  to  attach  yourself  to  them  is 
 to  make  a  bad  calculation.  In  one  word, 
 he  that  loves  the  creature  calculates  ill. 
 The  good  and  infallible  calculation  is,  to 
 love  God,  and  to  love  Him  only.  God 
 does  not  die,  God  does  not  deceive.  God 
 moreover,  is  master  of  us  alL  Look  well 
 at  the  balance  ;  examine,  and  decide.  It 
 is  simple  as  the  rule  of  three  ;  peremptory 
 as  arithmetic.  Madame  dc  Gaspariii. 
 
 LOVE  TO  GOD— Definition  of. 
 
 Love  to  God  is  a  Divine  principle  im- 
 planted in  the  mind  by  the  Hfdy  S[iirit, 
 whereby  we  reverence,  esteem,  desire  and 
 delight  in  Him  as  the  Chief  Good. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 LOVE  TO  GOD— Obligation  of. 
 
 If  a  great  potentate  did  make  subject 
 unto  thee  his  whole  kingdom,  and  all  his 
 dominions,  nobles,  and  strong  jxiwerful 
 men  ;  nay,  all  his  subjects,  and  did  com- 
 mand them  to  guard,  defend,  preserve,  to 
 clothe,  cure,  and  feed  thee,  and  to  take 
 care  that  thou  shouldest  want  nothing  at 
 all ;  wouldst  thou  not  love  him  and  account 
 him  to  be  a  loving,  bountiful  lord  ?  How 
 then  oughtest  thou  to  love  the  Lord  thy 
 God,  who  hath  kept  nothing  back  for  Him- 
 self, but  appointed  to  thy  service  all  that 
 is  in  heaven,  and  from  heaven,  and  all  tliat 
 is  upon  earth,  or  anywhere  ?  For  He 
 wants  no  creature  for  Himself,  and  halh 
 excepted  nothing  from  thy  service,  neither 
 in  all  the  hosts  of  holy  angels,  nor  in  any 
 of  His  creatures  under  the  stars.  If  we 
 will,  they  are  ready  to  serve  us  ;  nay,  hell 
 itself  must  serve  us,  by  bringing  upon  us 
 fear  and  terror,  that  we  may  not  sin. 
 
 John  Arndt. 
 LOVE  TO  GOD  AND  MAN. 
 
 "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
 all  thy  soul ;    and  the  second  is  like  unto 
 it,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thy- 
 self."    To  keep  these  two  commandments 
 36 
 
562 
 
 LOVE  IS  OF  GOD— LOVE  IN  JESUS. 
 
 is  the  whole  duty  of  man.  The  two  feelings 
 are  very  ditt'erent.  It  is  with  an  adoring 
 cor.iplaeency  that  you  love  the  ever-blessed 
 God,  desiring  that  His  glory  should  be  ad- 
 vanced, and  that  His  will  should  be  the 
 mind  of  the  universe.  It  is  with  an  afiec- 
 tionate  good-will  that  you  love  your  fellow- 
 creatures,  desiring  that  they  should  be 
 happy  in  loyalty  to  God.  The  one  love  is 
 simply  out-going  ;  the  other  ascends.  The 
 one  is  kindness;  the  other  is  full  of  wor- 
 ship. The  one  is  filial  devotion  ;  the  other 
 is  fraternal  fondness.        Dr.  J.  Mamilton. 
 
 LOVE  IS  OF  GOD. 
 
 As  the  rays  come  from  the  sun,  and  yet 
 are  not  the  sun,  even  so  our  love  and  pity, 
 though  they  are  not  God,  but  merely  a 
 [joor,  weak  image  and  reflection  of  Him, 
 yet  from  Him  alone  they  come.  If  there 
 is  mercy  in  our  hearts,  it  comes  from  the 
 fountain  of  mercy.  If  there  is  the  light 
 of  love  in  us,  it  is  a  ray  from  the  full  sun 
 of  His  love.  C.  Kingslet/. 
 
 LOVE  AND  HATE. 
 
 Love  and  hate  live  and  grow  together  in 
 the  heart.  When  they  wax,  they  wax 
 together;  when  they  wane,  they  wane 
 together;  I  mean  real  love  of  good  and 
 real  hate  of  evil.  If  you  increase  in  love 
 of  good,  you  will  also,  and  by  the  same 
 act,  increase  iu  the  loathing  of  evil ;  if  you 
 have  to  loathe  sin  more,  you  have  also  at 
 the  same  moment  learnt  to  rejoice  more 
 heartily  in  holiness.  Arnot. 
 
 LOVE  AND  HATRED  OF  GOD. 
 
 While  in  the  gift  of  Jesus  as  a  sacrifice 
 for  sin,  you  see  the  love  of  God ;  in  the 
 same  sacrifice  you  see  the  hatred  of  God  to 
 sin.  If  He  had  not  hated  sin,  he  would 
 not  have  sent  His  Son  to  atone  for  it,  and 
 to  set  in  operation  a  system  of  means  for 
 its  destruction.  As  a  father  loves  his 
 children  so  he  hates  everything  which  acts 
 or  would  act  prejudicially  to  their  interests. 
 It  is  even  so  in  God  in  regard  to  His 
 people.  The  measure  of  the  Divine  hatred 
 towards  things  is  the  love  which  He  has 
 to  the  opposite  things.  As  He  loves  holi- 
 ness so  He  hates  sin.  As  He  loves  truth 
 so  He  hates  a  lie.  As  He  loves  beauty  so 
 He  hates  deformity.  Bate. 
 
 LOVE  AND  HOPE. 
 
 Hut  Love's  a  flower  that  will  not  die 
 
 For  lack  of  leafy  screen. 
 And  Christian  Hope  can  cheer  the  eye 
 
 That  ne'er  saw  vernal  green ; 
 Then  be  ye  sure  that  Love  can  bless 
 E'en  in  this  crowded  loneliness. 
 Where  ever-moving  myriads  seem  to  say, 
 Go — thou  art  nought  to  us,  nor  we  to  thee 
 — away  !  J.  Keble. 
 
 LOVE  IN  JESUS. 
 
 The  fifteen  traits  of  charity  which  St. 
 Paul  enumerates  in  the  thirteenth  chapter 
 of  his  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
 had  their  highest  and  only  complete  mani- 
 festation in  the  blessed  Jesus.  While  on 
 earth,  and  among  sinful  men.  He  revealed 
 them  in  His  life  of  holiest  brotherhood. 
 Let  us  briefly  glance  at  these :  "  Charity 
 snffereth  long  and  is  kind."  Jesus  bore 
 the  taunts,  opposition,  and  enmity  of  the 
 Jews,  yet  went  about  healing  them  all  and 
 preaching  the  Gospel  of  the  kingdom. — 
 "  Charity  envieth  not."  He  never  grudged 
 any  one  his  honours,  neither  Herod,  nor 
 Caiaphas,  nor  Pilate. — "  Charity  vaunteth 
 not  itself,  is  not  easily  pufl"ed  up."  There 
 was  no  boasting,  nor  an  ear  for  flattery,  in 
 the  character  of  Jesus.  When  the  people 
 would  have  taken  Him  by  force  to  make 
 Him  a  king,  He  passed  out  of  sight ;  and 
 when  the  rapturous  liosanuas  met  His  ear 
 on  Olivet  as  He  rode,  He  was  weeping 
 over  the  holy  city  those  tears, 
 "  The  awful  language  eloquent. 
 
 Of  infinite  afiection,  far  too  big  for 
 words." — 
 "  Doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly ;"  for 
 none  of  His  enemies  could  convince  Him  of 
 sin. — "  Seeketh  not  her  own."  Selfishness 
 had  no  place  in  the  heart  of  Jesus. — "Foxes 
 have  holes,  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests, 
 but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay 
 His  head."  Amidst  the  works  of  His  hands, 
 Hehad  nothing. — "  Is  not  easily  provoked." 
 "  Who,  when  He  was  reviled,  reviled  not 
 again;  when  He  sufl'ered.  He  threatened 
 not." — "Thinketh  no  evil."  No  unkindly 
 suspicion  disconcerted  His  soul.  He  never 
 thought  less  of  one  than  he  deserved.  No 
 ungenerous  purpose  rose  within  His  mind. 
 — "  Rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity."  However 
 acute  the  wit,  however  polite  the  immo- 
 rality, they  had  no  charm  for  Jesus. — "  But 
 rejoiceth  in  the  truth."  One  ray  of  hea- 
 venly sunshine  brought  more  gladness  to 
 His  soul  than  a  thousand  lights  that  led 
 astray.  One  sinner  returning  to  his  God 
 was  the  rejoicing  of  His  soul. — "  Beareth 
 all  things,"  without  murmuring;  "be- 
 lieveth  all  things,"  without  detraction ; 
 "hopeth  all  things,"  in  the  judgment  of 
 purest  charity ;  "  endureth  all  things," 
 without  the  ruifle  of  His  placid  spirit. 
 Such  was  Jesus.  Such  was  the  love  of 
 God  in  human  life.  It  is  that  love  which 
 has  made  the  character  of  Christ,  which 
 the  Gospel  presents  to  men,  command  the 
 respect  and  admiration  of  so  many  cen- 
 turies, and  exercise  so  vast  an  influence  on 
 men  of  varied  tempers,  tastes,  pursuits, 
 countries,  and  nations.  It  is  this,  after 
 all  the  inventions  of  the  ingenious  and 
 schemes  of  the  benevolent,  which  alone 
 transforms  the  character  of  men  into  tlie 
 
LOVE  AND  BE  LOVED— LOVE  AND  SOEROW. 
 
 563 
 
 image  of  Christ.  It  is  this  love  in  the 
 heart  wliich  reproduces  that  image  in  the 
 coarser  ground  of  human  nature. 
 
 B.  Steele. 
 LOVE  AND  BE  LOVED. 
 In  the  silence  of  his  face  I  read 
 His  overflowing  sjjirit.     Birds  and  heasts, 
 And   the  mute  fish  that   glances  in  the 
 
 stream. 
 And  harmless  reptile  coiling  in  the  sun, 
 And  gorgeous  insect  moving  in  the  air. 
 The  fowl  domestic,  and  the  household  dog — 
 In  his  capacious  mind  he  loved  them  all. 
 
 Rich  in  love 
 And  sv^eet  humanity,  he  was,  himself. 
 To  the  degree  that  he  desired,  heloved, 
 
 WordsivortJi. 
 
 LOVE  OF  THE  SAVIOUR. 
 
 Like  the  sunshine  that  falls  with  magical 
 flicker  on  pearl  and  ruby,  lance  and  armour, 
 in  the  royal  hall — yet  overflows  the  shep- 
 herd's home,  and  quivers  through  the 
 grating  of  the  prisoner's  cell — pours  glory 
 over  the  mountain  range — flames  in  playful 
 splendours  on  the  wave — floods  the  noblest 
 scenes  with  day,  yet  makes  joy  for  the 
 insect,  comes  down  to  the  worm,  and  has  a 
 loving  glance  for  the  life  that  stirs  in  the 
 fringes  of  the  wayside  grass,  silvers  the 
 moss  of  the  marsh  and  the  scum  of  the 
 pool — glistens  in  the  thistle-down,  lines 
 the  shell  with  crimson  fire,  and  fills  the 
 little  flower  with  light,  travels  millions  and 
 millions  of  miles,  past  stars,  past  constella- 
 tions, and  all  the  "  dread  magnificence  of 
 heaven,"  on  purpose  to  visit  the  siclcly 
 M'eed — to  kiss  into  vividness  the  sleeping 
 blooms  of  spring,  and  to  touch  the  tiniest 
 thing  with  the  gladness  that  makes  it 
 great — so  does  the  Saviour's  love,  not  de- 
 terred by  our  unworthiness,  not  ofl'ended 
 by  our  slights,  come  down  to  tencli  and 
 bless  the  meanest  and  the  lowliest  life  in 
 the  new  creation.  He  restores  the  bruised 
 reed ;  the  weakest  natures  share  His  visits, 
 and  revive  beneath  His  smile. 
 
 C.  Stanford. 
 
 Argosies  of  wealth,  rocks  of  diamond, 
 mines  of  gold,  all  the  treasures  that  inter- 
 lace the  solid  globe,  all  the  glories  that 
 glow  in  the  solemn  armies  of  tlie  stars,  are 
 not  to  be  compared  with  the  things  God 
 has  prepared  for  you.  Think  of  the  pro- 
 mises, they  are  all  yours.  Think  of  all  the 
 agencies  of  human  instruction,  "  whether 
 Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas;"  they  are 
 yours.  Think  of  the  world;  it  is  yours. 
 Think  of  life;  it  is  yours.  Think  of 
 death  :  "  I  find  death  named  in  this  inven- 
 tory," said  the  dying  James  Hervey; 
 death  is  yours.  Think  of  afllictions ;  they 
 can  only  bless  you;  you  are  not  theirs, 
 they  are  yours.  Think  of  things  present, 
 or  things  to  come;  in  magnificent  over- 
 
 measure,  all  are  yours.  Think  of  all  that 
 is  represented  by  that  great  word  God; 
 who  can  fathom  it  ?  "Nothing  is  easier," 
 says  Pulsford,  "than  to  say  the  word  uni- 
 verse, and  yet  it  would  take  us  millions  of 
 millions  of  years  to  bestow  one  hasty  glance 
 upon  the  surface  of  that  small  portion  of  it 
 which  lies  within  the  range  of  our  glasses. 
 But  what  are  all  suns,  comets,  earths, 
 moons,  atmospheres,  seas,  rivers,  moun- 
 tains, valleys,  plains,  woods,  cattle,  wild 
 beasts,  fish,  fowl,  grasses,  plants,  shrubs, 
 minerals,  and  metals,  compared  with  the 
 meaning  of  the  one  name,  God  ?"  Yet 
 God  is  yours.  And  all  this  is  the  gift  of  a 
 Saviour's  love.  Ibid. 
 
 LOVE  IN  THE  SOUL— Activity  of. 
 
 Love  being  thus  brought  into  the  soul 
 by  faith,  and  kept  there  also,  remains  not 
 idle  or  inert,  but  sets  instantly  to  work. 
 Love  is  the  most  active  thing  in  all  the 
 world.  See  it  in  the  conduct  of  a  tender 
 and  faithful  wife  towards  the  husband  of 
 her  heart.  See  it  in  the  mother's  sleepless 
 activities  towards  the  babe  at  her  bosom. 
 See  it  in  the  devoted  servant  towards  the 
 master  of  his  choice.  What  will  not  love 
 do  in  the  way  of  constant  self-denying, 
 untiring  activity,  or  hear  in  the  way  of 
 privation  and  suftering.  How  hardly,  yet 
 how  willingly  and  cheerfully  and  plea- 
 santly, it  works  for  its  object.  Work  is 
 pleasure — labour  is  delight.  Love  seems 
 to  resemble  the  cherubic  figure,  having 
 the  courage  of  the  lion,  the  patience  of  the 
 ox,  the  wing  of  the  eagle,  and  all  directed 
 by  the  intelligence  and  will  of  the  man. 
 
 J.  A.  James. 
 
 LOVE  IN  THE  SOUL— Power  of. 
 
 This  is  the  great  instrument  and  engine 
 of  nature,  the  bond  and  cement  of  society, 
 the  spring  and  spirit  of  the  universe.  Love 
 is  such  an  afl'ection  as  cannot  so  properly 
 be  said  to  be  in  the  soul,  as  the  soul  to 
 be  in  that.  It  is  the  whole  man  wrapt  up 
 into  one  desire,  all  the  powers,  vigour  and 
 faculties  of  the  soul  abridged  into  one  in- 
 clination. And  it  is  of  that  restless  nature 
 that  it  must  of  necessity  exert  itself;  and 
 like  fire,  to  wliich  it  is  so  often  compared, 
 it  is  not  a  free  agent,  to  choose  whether  it 
 will  heat  or  no,  but  it  streams  forth  by 
 natural  results,  and  unavoidable  emana- 
 tions, so  that  it  will  fasten  upon  an  inferior 
 unsuitable  object,  rather  than  none  at  all. 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 LOVE  AND  SORROW— in  Christ, 
 
 In  Christ  Himself,  who  is  His  own  re- 
 ligion alive  and  in  action,  loye  and  sorrow 
 seem,  like  rainbow  colours,  evermore 
 blended  and  lost  in  each  other ;  He  is  the 
 immortal  image  of  both ;  love  and  pain 
 are  the  foot-prints  by  which  we  trace  Hina 
 
564 
 
 lOVE-TOKENS— LUST. 
 
 from  page  to  page.  And  who  will  say 
 wldcli  was  foremost  on  Calvary  ?  Love 
 drew  the  Godhead  of  Christ  from  its  throne ; 
 sorrow  —  sanctifying  sorrow — lifted  the 
 manhood  into  meetness  to  share  it ! 
 
 Archer  Butler. 
 LOVE-TOKENS. 
 
 Who  does  not  possess  love-tokens  of  some 
 kind  or  other,  which  are  worn  on  the  per- 
 son, decorate  the  room,  locked  np  in  the 
 cabinet,  or  lie  on  the  table  ?  Love-tokens 
 are  generally  given  by  parties  loved  to  the 
 parties  who  love.  You  have  a  dear  friend, 
 and  you  give  him  a  token  of  your  lovej 
 you  are  his  friend,  and  he  gives  you  a 
 token  of  his  love  in  return.  Thus  love- 
 tokens  are  acquired. 
 
 What  love-tokens  do  you  possess  of  a 
 Divine  nature  ?  How  all  others  fail  in 
 importance,  value,  and  use,  compared  with 
 these !  Every  good  and  perfect  gift  from 
 God,  and  how  many  these  are  you  cannot 
 count,  is  a  token  that  He  loves  you.  Do 
 you  prize  them  ?  What  love-tokens  have 
 you  returned  to  God?  Do  you  send  up 
 daily  prayei's  and  praises ;  daily  self-denial 
 and  obedience ;  in  one  word,  as  everything 
 God  does  to  you  and  for  you  is  a  love- 
 token  from  him,  does  everything  you  do 
 convey  to  Him  a  clear  and  positive  token 
 of  your  love  to  Him  ?  John,  Bate. 
 
 LUKEWARHNESS— in  a  Church. 
 
 Formnlity  in  religion  is  the  name  of 
 being  alive ;  and  lukewarmness  in  a  church 
 is  like  the  heat  of  a  corpse  exposed  to  the 
 sun — it  is  never  enlivened,  it  is  never  ani- 
 mated— even  its  warmth  is  offensive. 
 
 Dr.  F.  W.  Jenlcyn. 
 
 LUKEWAEMNESS— Guilt  of. 
 
 In  respect  to  religion,  hardly  anything 
 can  be  more  culpable  than  this  spirit.  If 
 there  be  a  God  possessed  of  unspeakable 
 rectitude  in  His  own  nature,  and  un- 
 bounded goodness  towards  His  creatures, 
 what  can  be  more  inconsistent  and  unbe- 
 coming than  to  be  frigid  and  indifferent  in 
 our  devotions  to  Him  ?  Atheism,  in  some 
 respects  cannot  be  worse  than  lukewarm- 
 ness. The  atheist  disbelieves  the  existence 
 of  God,  and  therefore  cannot  worship  Him 
 at  all ;  the  lukewarm  owns  the  existence, 
 sovereignty,  and  goodness  of  the  Supreme 
 Being,  but  denies  Him  that  fervour  of  affec- 
 tion, that  devotedness  of  heart,  and  activity 
 of  service,  which  the  excellency  of  His 
 nature  demands,  and  the  authority  of  His 
 word  requires.  Such  a  character  is  there- 
 fore rej)resented  as  absolutely  loathsome  to 
 God,  and  obnoxious  to  His  wrath  {Hev.  iii, 
 15,  16).  C.  Buck. 
 
 LUKEWARMNESS— Remedy  for. 
 
 T  have  found,  and  think,  that  the  best 
 
 remedy  against  lukewarmness  Is  an  obsti- 
 nate persisting  in  prayer  until  our  atlec- 
 tions  be  moved,  and  a  regular  habit  of  going 
 to  religious  duties  with  a  prepared  and 
 meek  heart,  thinking  more  of  obtaining 
 communion  with  God,  than  of  spending  so 
 many  minutes  in  seeking  it.  Thus,  when 
 we  pray,  we  must  not  kneel  down  with 
 the  idea  that  we  are  to  spend  so  many 
 minutes  in  supplication,  and,  after  the 
 usual  time  h:is  elaiised,  go  about  our  regu- 
 lar business;  we  must  remind  ourselves 
 that  we  have  an  object  in  prayer,  and  that 
 until  that  object  be  attained,  that  is,  until 
 we  are  satisfied  that  our  Father  hears  us, 
 we  are  not  to  conceive  that  our  duty  is 
 performed,  although  we  may  be  in  the 
 posture  of  prayer  for  an  hour. 
 
 E.  K.  White. 
 LUST— Definition  of. 
 
 By  lust  the  apostle  here  (James  i,  1J-) 
 means,  not  that  particular  inordination  or 
 vice  that  relates  to  the  uncleanness  of  the 
 flesh  ;  but  that  general  stock  of  corruption 
 that  possesses  the  whole  soul  through  all 
 its  respective  faculties.  Br.  South. 
 
 LUST— Effects  of. 
 
 Look  back  and  see  what  deadly  humilia- 
 tion lust  has  already  brought  you ;  what 
 ulcerous  sores,  through  which  wells  out  so 
 much  of  the  pith  and  life-blood  of  your 
 being.  It  is  the  grand  battle  of  life,  to 
 teach  lust  the  limits  of  Divine  law,  to 
 break  it  into  the  taste  of  the  bread  of 
 heaven,  and  make  it  understand,  that  man 
 doth  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every 
 word  that  cometh  out  of  the  mouth  of  God. 
 J.  B.  Brown. 
 LUST— Grave  of. 
 
 The  grave  of  lust  is  one  of  the  most 
 awful  of  the  inscriptions  on  the  head- 
 stones of  the  great  cemetery,  the  world. 
 
 The  words  in  Psalm  cvi,  13 — 15,  "  'i'hey 
 soon  forgat  His  works,  they  waited  not  for 
 His  counsel;  but  lusted  exceedingly  in 
 the  wilderness,  and  tempted  God  in  the 
 desert.  And  He  gave  them  their  request, 
 hut  sent  leanness  into  their  soul."  There 
 the  lust  is  spoken  of  as  the  grave  of  the 
 soul.  And  I  believe  that  it  is  the  common 
 form  of  God's  judgment.  Where  He 
 buries  one  in  the  wilderness.  He  suffers  a 
 thousand  to  bury  themselves  in  their  lust. 
 It  is  the  inevitable  end  of  all  wanton  self- 
 indulgence;  either  a  sharp  judgment,  or 
 that  slow  pining  of  soul  which  makes  the 
 body  its  grave.  Graves  !  why  there  are  a 
 hundred  before  me  at  this  moment.  Where 
 is  the  promise  of  your  youth,  sensualist? 
 where  the  resolution  of  your  manhood  ? 
 Where  is  the  purpose  which  that  night  on 
 bended  knees  you  uttered,  and  asked  to 
 have  registered  in  heaven  ?  Where  the 
 protestations  and  vows  to  live  "a  godly, 
 
LUST. 
 
 565 
 
 righteous,  and  sober  life,  looking  for  that 
 blessed  hope,  and  glorious  appearing  of 
 the  great  God,  and  our  Saviour  Jesus 
 Christ  ?"  Where  ? — dead  as  the  leaves  of 
 summer!  And  where  are  the  graves  ?  I 
 need  only  look  on  that  sensual  face,  that 
 bloated  form,  that  dull  and  glassy  eye, 
 that  brazen  brow,  to  tell.  They  are  buried 
 there,  deep  down  in  the  flesh  that  shrouds 
 them,  and  will  rot  on  till  the  last  great 
 burning  day.  In  how  many  do  we  now 
 search  in  vain  for  fruits  whose  flowers  once 
 bloomed  there;  for  generous  emotions, 
 swift  responses  to  the  appeals  of  sorrow, 
 unselfish  ministries,  and  stern  integrity  ? 
 How  many  have  learnt  now  to  laugh  at 
 emotions  which  once  had  a  holy  beauty  in 
 their  sight ;  to  fence  skilfully  with  appeals 
 which  have  once  thrilled  to  the  very  core 
 of  their  hearts;  to  grasp  at  advantages 
 which  once  would  have  passed  with  a 
 scornful  anathema,  and  to  clutch  at  the 
 gold  which  was  once  the  glad  instrument 
 of  diffusing  benefits  around !  Yes,  there 
 are  graves  enough  around  us,  graves  of 
 passion,  graves  of  self-will,  graves  of  lust. 
 There  is  that  pompous  and  impressive 
 millionaire,  a  man  whose  word  is  good 
 for  millions,  to  whom  the  leaders  of  com- 
 merce pay  deference,  as  to  a  great  power 
 in  their  state.  He  is  most  admirably 
 correct  in  all  his  transactions;  a  good 
 giver,  too,  liberal  by  repute,  his  name  is 
 against  a  large  sum  in  all  public  sub- 
 scriptions. Go  to  him  with  a  case  which 
 the  rulers  and  Pharisees  believe  in,  and 
 you  will  never  be  sent  empty  away ;  but 
 let  a  poor  wretch  cross  his  private  path 
 and  whine  for  a  morsel,  a  dog  would  hardly 
 get  such  a  brutal  rebuff.  Let  a  servant  in 
 his  employ  yield  in  a  dark  temptation, 
 wrong  him,  and  throw  himself  on  his 
 mercy,  you  may  get  blood  out  of  a  rock 
 sooner  than  one  compassionate  word  from 
 that  ruthless  heart.  There  is  a  whited 
 sepulchre  of  a  soul !  Once  he  w^as  a  poor 
 boy  ;  he  had  but  a  crust  in  the  wide  world, 
 and  he  shared  it  with  a  poorer  comrade, 
 without  a  regret,  without  a  care.  Once 
 he  loved,  too,  and  was  beloved.  His  heart 
 was  largCj  warm,  genial.  He  valued  life 
 for  its  friendships  and  relationships ;  its 
 claims  gladdened  him,  its  duties  inspired. 
 But  that  has  long,  long  been  buried.  A 
 cold  sneer  whenever  he  thinks  of  it,  is  its 
 epitaph.  One  day,  when  he  is  dead,  and 
 they  bear  him  pompously  to  his  splendid 
 tomb,  there  will  be  lawyers  and  heirs  at 
 his  strong  box,  to  rifle  the  secrets  which 
 he  has  so  jealously  and  successfully  hid. 
 Pile  on  pile  of  papers  and  securities  is 
 arranged  there  in  admirable  order.  But 
 there  is  an  inner  cabinet,  a  secret  drawer — 
 surely  the  sum  of  the  whole  is  treasured 
 there,  the  coveted  balance-sheet  of  his 
 affairs.     No  key  is  found,  no  spring  can  be 
 
 discovered  ;  they  burst  it  open  at  length, 
 and  find  there — a  faded  letter,  a  withered 
 flower,  and  a  lock  of  a  woman's  hair !  He 
 buried  them  there  years  ago,  when  he 
 buried  his  higher  nature,  of  which  they  are 
 the  memorial,  in — himself. 
 
 There  is  a  brilliant  woman  of  society ; 
 so  gay,  so  witty,  so  genial,  so  friendly,  the 
 life  of  her  circle,  the  idol  of  a  crowd  of 
 empty  friends.  At  home— and  she  is 
 rarely  to  be  found  there— there  is  a  chill, 
 bad  atmosphere.  The  children  are  made 
 over  to  a  careless  governess  ;  the  mother 
 cannot  bear  their  worry.  The  husband  is 
 simply  the  sponge  which  she  squeezes  with 
 ruthless  constancy  for  her  expenses,  and 
 casts  aside  as  ruthlessly  when  that  one  end 
 is  gained.  Society  is  her  idol ;  a  place,  a 
 name,  an  influence,  she  will  have,  at  any 
 cost ;  and  she  is  digging  another  of  the 
 Kibroth-hattaavah — the  graves  of  lust. 
 Once  there  was  a  warm,  wifel}',  motherly 
 heart  in  her;  once  she  looked  up  fondly 
 in  that  man's  face,  and  vowed  to  be  the 
 joy  and  sunlight  of  his  life.  Once,  beau- 
 tiful, holy  tears  filled  her  eyes  as  she  gazed 
 clown  on  her  first-born  on  her  bosom,  and 
 vowed  a  mother's  love  and  tenderness  to 
 the  little  nursling  of  her  heart.  But  that 
 was  all  buried  long  ago.  The  world  pos- 
 sesses her  wholly  ;  she  is  the  mere  charnel- 
 house  of  a  soul.  The  finer  natures  feel  it 
 already,  and  avoid  her ;  and  soon  all  will 
 see  it,  and  shrink  from  its  corruption. 
 Your  worn-out  woman  of  the  world  looks 
 more  like  a  sepulchre  than  anything  else 
 upon  this  earth. 
 
 There  is  another  man,  a  father,  let  us 
 say,  with  a  cheerful  home,  wife,  children, 
 aud  suificient  comforts  round  him,  who 
 persuades  himself  that  misfortune  has 
 marked  him  for  his  prey.  His  son,  the 
 pride  of  his  heart  may  have  dishonoured 
 his  name,  or  his  daughter  sullied  the 
 purity  of  his  home ;  his  circumstances 
 have  become  embarrassed ;  he  struggles 
 hard  to  keep  pace  with  the  times,  but  finds 
 himself  falling  slowly  but  hopelessly  into 
 the  rear.  He  struggles  all  the  harder 
 because  the  process  is  a  slow  one,  and  he 
 can  fight  against  ruin  inch  by  inch.  But 
 the  battle  is  against  him.  At  home  he 
 has  no  joy ;  abroad  no  hope.  Little  by 
 little  he  begins  to  find  some  comfort  in  the 
 passing  exhilaration  of  drink ;  for  the 
 moment  it  enables  him  to  laugh,  and  to 
 snap  his  fingers  at  fate.  The  habit,  once 
 established,  becomes  tyranous.  He  has 
 no  resources  of  mind  or  spirit  to  fall  back 
 upon,  and  no  will  to  cry  to  Him  who,  when 
 "  all  His  waves  and  billows"  were  surging 
 over  David,  "  commanded  His  loving- 
 kindness  in  the  day-time,  and  His  songs  in 
 the  night."  He  begins  to  come  home  in 
 the  evening  excited ;  he  stutters  out  his 
 requests ;  often  he  is  plainly  intoxicated ; 
 
ITJXURIES— LUXUEY. 
 
 tliey  have  to  lead  him  to  bed  like  an  idiot. 
 Then  he  sits  boozing  alone  by  his  own  fire- 
 side, till  his  children  get  sick  at  heart, 
 perhaps  fierce  against  him ;  perliaps  they 
 fly  his  home  to  escape  the  atmosphere  of 
 misery  he  has  created  there.  His  wife, 
 well  nigh  broken-hearted,  begins  to  seek 
 refuge  in  the  same  excitements.  Tiiey 
 sit  drinking  together  in  their  abandoned 
 home ;  they  exchange  drunken  caresses,  or 
 curses,  as  the  case  may  be  ;  they  abuse  each 
 other's  vices,  they  swear,  fight,  clutch  each 
 other  by  the  throat,  and  their  neighbours 
 or  children  part  them;  they  are  over- 
 whelmed with  shame  for  the  moment,  but 
 soon  bury  shame,  too,  in  lust.  The  scene 
 recurs,  it  gets  talked  of  in  the  neighbour- 
 hood, whisjjered  among  friends  ;  acquaint- 
 ances cut  them,  friends  remonstrate  in 
 vain,  and  forsake  them,  and  their  home  be- 
 comes fairly  a  hell.  The  accursed  lust  sets 
 its  mark  on  their  forehead.  Bloated 
 features,  trembling  limbs,  stuttering  speech, 
 and  a  mad  thirst  that  goads  them  on  to 
 deeper  orgies.  Friends,  let  us  drop  the 
 veil.  God  keep  us  from  the  temptation  to 
 bury  misery  in  a  grave  of  lust ! 
 
 J.  B.  Broivn, 
 lUXUEIES— Love  of. 
 
 I  know  it  is  more  _ agreeable  to  walk 
 upon  carpets  than  to  lie  upon  dungeon 
 flooi's ;  I  know  it  is  pleasant  to  have  all 
 the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilization ; 
 but  he  who  cares  only  for  these  things  is 
 worth  no  more  than  a  butterfly,  contented 
 and  thoughtless  upon  a  morning  flower; 
 and  who  ever  thought  of  rearing  a  tomb- 
 stone to  a  last-summer's  butterfly  ? 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 LUXURY— Effects  of. 
 
 There  is  a  single  passage  in  Herodotus 
 that  might  supply  the  place  of  many  ex- 
 amples. When  Cyrus  had  received  an 
 account  that  the  Lydians  had  revolted 
 from  him,  he  told  Crassus,  with  a  good 
 deal  of  emotion,  that  he  had  almost  deter- 
 mined to  make  them  all  slaves.  Croesus 
 begged  him  to  pardon  them  :  "  But,"  says 
 IW",  tliat  they  may  no  more  rebel  or  be 
 Woiiblesome  to  you,  command  them  to  lay 
 aside  their  arms,  to  wear  long  vests  and 
 bUskins,  i.  e.  to  vie  with  each  other  in  the 
 elegance  and  richness  of  their  dress.  Order 
 .them  to  sing  and  play  on  the  harp,  let 
 them  drink  and  debauch,  and  you  will  soon 
 see  their  sjnrits  broken  and  themselves 
 change  from  men  to  women,  so  that  they 
 will  no  more  rebel,  or  give  you  any  un- 
 easiness;" and  the  event  answered  the 
 advice.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 The  luxury  of  Capua  destroyed  the 
 bravest  army  which  Italy  ever  saw,  flushed 
 with  conquest  and  commanded  by  Han- 
 nibal.    The  moment  Capua  was  taken,  that 
 
 moment  the  walls  of  Carthage  trembled. 
 They  caught  the  infection,  and  grew  fond 
 of  pleasure,  which  rendered  them  effemi- 
 nate, and  of  course  an  easy  prey  to  theip 
 enemies.  Ibid. 
 
 It  is  to  the  victory  over  Antiochus,  and 
 the  conquest  of  Asia,  that  Pliny  dates  the 
 corruption  of  the  manners  of  the  lloman 
 commonwealth,  and  of  the  fatal  change 
 tliat  happened  in  it  by  introducing  at 
 Rome,  witli  the  riches  it  brought  thither, 
 a  taste  for  luxury  and  voluptuousness, 
 Asia,  conquered  by  the  arms  of  Rome,  in 
 its  turn  conquered  Rome  by  its  vices. 
 Foreign  riches  put  an  end  to  the  love  of 
 industry  and  the  ancient  simplicity  which 
 had  been  the  stamina  of  its  honour  and 
 strength.  Luxury,  which  entered  Rome 
 as  in  triumph,  with  the  superb  spoils  of 
 Asia,  brought  with  it  in  its  train  all  kinds 
 of  disorders  and  crimes,  made  more  havoc 
 than  the  most  numerous  armies  could  have 
 done,  and  in  that  manner  avenged  the 
 conquered  globe.  Thus  the  face  of  the 
 state  was  changed;  virtue,  valour,  and 
 disinterestedness  were  no  longer  esteemed ; 
 the  opposite  vices  prevailed,  and  the  go- 
 vernment, from  just  and  wise,  became 
 tyrannical  and  insupportable.  Ibid. 
 
 LUXUSY— Excessive. 
 
 I  am  no  advocate  for  meanness  of  private 
 habitation.  I  would  fain  introduce  into  it 
 all  magnificence,  care,  and  beauty  where 
 they  are  possible;  but  I  would  not  have 
 that  useless  expense  in  unnoticed  fineries 
 or  formalities,  cornicing  of  ceilings  and 
 grainings  of  doors,  and  fringing  of  curtains, 
 and  thousands  of  such  things  which  have 
 become  foolishly  and  apathetically  habitual; 
 things  on  which  common  appliance  bang 
 whole  trades,  to  which  there  never  be- 
 longed the  blessings  of  giving  one  ray  of 
 real  pleasure,  or  becoming  of  the  remotest 
 or  most  contemptible  use ;  things  which 
 cause  half  the  expense  of  life,  and  destroy 
 more  than  half  its  comfort,  manliness,  res- 
 pectability, freshness,  and  facility.  I  speak 
 from  experience ;  I  know  what  it  is  to  live 
 in  a  cottage,  with  a  deal  floor  and  roof, 
 and  a  hearth  of  mica  slate  ;  and  I  know  it 
 to  be  In  many  respects  healthier  and  hap- 
 pier than  living  between  a  Turkey  carpet 
 and  a  gilded  ceiling,  beside  a  steel  grate 
 and  polished  fender.  I  do  not  say  that 
 such  tilings  have  not  their  place  and  pro- 
 priety ;  but  I  say  this  emphatically,  that  a 
 tenth  part  of  the  expense  which  is  sacri- 
 ficed in  domestic  vanities,  if  not  absolutely 
 and  meanlnglessly  lost  in  domestic  comforts 
 and  incumbrances,  would,  if  collectively 
 artbrded  and  wisely  employed,  build  a 
 marble  church  for  every  town  in  England ; 
 such  a  church  as  it  should  be  a  joy  and  a 
 blessing  to  pass  near  in  our  daily  ways  and 
 
LYING— MALEVOLENCE. 
 
 567 
 
 walks,  and  as  it  would  bring  the  light  into 
 the  eyes  to  see  from  afar,  lifting  its  airy 
 height  above  the  purple  crowd  of  humble 
 roofs.  Enskin. 
 
 LYING— to  Children. 
 
 S(jme  people  tell  lies  to  children,. with 
 the  view  of  eujoyiiig  a  laugh  at  their  cre- 
 dulity. This  is  to  make  a  mock  at  sin, 
 and  they  are  fools  who  do  it.  The  tendency 
 in  a  child  to  believe  what  it  is  told;  is  of 
 God  for  good.  It  is  lovely.  It  seems  a 
 shadow  of  primeval  innocence  glancing  by. 
 We  should  reverence  a  child's  simplicity. 
 Touch  it  only  with  truth.  Be  not  the  first 
 to  quench  that  lovely  trustfulness  by  lies. 
 
 Arnot. 
 LYING— Detection  of. 
 
 The  folly  of  lying  consists  in  its  defeat- 
 ing its  own  purpose.  A  habit  of  lying  is 
 generally  detected  in  the  end ;  and  after 
 detection,  the  liar,  instead  of  deceiving, 
 will  not  even  be  believed  when  he  happens 
 to  speak  the  truth.  Nay,  every  single  lie 
 is  attended  with  such  a  variety  of  circum- 
 stances which  lead  to  a.  detection,  that  it 
 is  often  discovered.  The  use  generally  made 
 of  a  lie  is  to  cover  a  fault;  but  as  this  end 
 is  seldom  answered,  we  only  aggravate 
 what  we  wish  to  conceal.  In  point  even 
 of  prudence,  an  honest  confession  would 
 serve  us«better.  Gilpin. 
 
 LYING— Troublesome, 
 
 Truth  is  always  consistent  with  itself, 
 and  needs  nothing  to  help  it  out ;  it  is 
 always  near  at  hand,  sits  upon  our  lips, 
 and  is  ready  to  drop  out  before  are  aware ; 
 a  lie  is  troublesome,  and  sets  a  man's  in- 
 vention upon  the  rack,  and  one  trick  needs 
 a  great  many  more  to  make  it  good.  It  is 
 like  building  upon  a  false  foundation, 
 which  continually  stands  in  need  of  props 
 to  shore  it  up,  and  proves  at  last  more 
 chargeable  than  to  have  raised  a  substantial 
 building  at  first  upon  a  true  and  solid  foun- 
 dation. Addison. 
 
 M. 
 
 HAGNANmiTY— Christian. 
 
 Tlie  Rev.  Mr.  Fletclier,  of  Madeley,  in 
 Shropshire,  was  one  of  the  holiest  men  that 
 ever  lived.  He  was  of  foreign  extraction, 
 and  among  his  continental  relations  was  a 
 a  nephew,,  a  very  wild  and  profligate  young 
 man,  who  had  been  in  the  Sardinian  army, 
 and  had  in  all  respects  lived  a  bad  life. 
 This  young  man  had  an  uncle — General  De 
 Gous — and  one  day  the  profligate  nephew 
 took  a  loaded  pistol,  and  putting  it  to  his 
 uncle's  (the  general's)  breast,  threatened 
 to  shoot  him  unless  he  gave  him  five  hun- 
 di'ed  crowns.     General  De  Qous,  knowing 
 
 what  a  desperate  ruffian  his  nephew  was, 
 gave  him  a  draft  for  the  money. 
 
 Shortly  after,  the  profligate  thought  he 
 would  try  the  same  plan  with  ins  uncle 
 Fletcher,  and  not  having  changed  the  draft 
 he  had  so  wickedly  obtained  from  the 
 general,  he  called,  and  asking  to  see  the 
 good  clergyman,  showed  him  the  draft. 
 Mr.  Fletcher  took  the  paper  and  looked  at 
 it  with  surprise,  and  then  very  quietly  put 
 it  in  his  pocket,  saying,  "  It  strikes  me, 
 young  man,  that  you  have  possessed  your- 
 self of  this  note  in  some  wrong  manner, 
 and  in  conscience  I  cannot  return  it  to  you 
 without  your  uncle  De  Gous'  per\nission." 
 
 The  nephew's  pistol  was  out  in  an  in- 
 stant, and  at  Mr.  Fletcher's  breast.  "  My 
 life,"  said  the  heroic  uncle  cahnly,  "is 
 secure  in  the  protection  of  an  Almighty 
 power,  nor  will  He  sutter  it  to  be  the  forfeit 
 of  my  integrity  and  your  rashness." 
 "  What,"  said  the  nephew,  "  are  you  less 
 afraid  of  death  than  my  uncle  De  Gous,  an 
 old  soldier?" 
 
 "  Afraid  of  death,"  replied  Mr.  Fletcher. 
 "Do  you  think  I  have  been  twenty-five 
 years  the  minister  of  the  Lord  of  Life,  to 
 be  afraid  of  death  now.  No,  sir,  it  is  for 
 you  to  be  afraid  of  death.  You  are  a 
 gamester  and  a  cheat,  and  yet  call  yourself 
 a  gentleman.  You  are  the  betrayer  of 
 female  innocence,  and  style  yourself  a  man 
 of  honour.  Look  there,  sir,"  pointing  to 
 the  heavens,  "  the  broad  eye  of  Heaven  is 
 fixed  on  us.  Tremble  in  the  presence  of 
 your  Maker,  who  can  in  a  moment  kill 
 your  body  and  for  ever  punish  your  soul  in 
 hell !" 
 
 The  profligate  tiirned  pale  withrage  and 
 fear.  He  continued  to  point  his  weapon  at 
 his  uncle,  who  made  no  attempt  to  escape 
 or  call  for  help.  In  a  few  minutes  the 
 hand  of  the  nephew  fell  powerless — he  was 
 subdued.  Mr.  Fletcher  gave  him  words  of 
 advice — and  finally  promised  him  some 
 assistance,  if  he  left  his  evil  ways.  And 
 the  two  parted,  with  words  of  forgiveness 
 from  the  uncle,  and  promises  of  auiend- 
 uient  from  the  nephew.  Avvlne. 
 
 MAGNANIMITY— Definition  of. 
 
 Magnanimity  is  greatness  of  soul;  a  dis- 
 position of  mind  exerted  in  contemning 
 dangers  and  difficulties,  in  scorning  tem])- 
 tations,  and  despising  earthly  pomp  and 
 splendour.  C.  Buck. 
 
 MALEVOLENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Malevolence  is  that  disposition  of  mind 
 which  inclines'  us  to  wish  ill  to  any  person. 
 It  discovers  itself  in  frowns  and  lowering 
 countenance,  in  uncharitableness,  in  evil 
 sentiments  ;  hard  speeches  to  or  of  its 
 object;  in  cursiug  and  reviling;  and  doing 
 mischief  either  with  open  violence, or  secret 
 spite,  as  far  as  there  is  power.  Ibid. 
 
568 
 
 MALEVOLENCE— MAMMON. 
 
 MALEVOLENCE— Misery  of. 
 
 Malevolence  is  misery.  It  is  the  mind 
 of  Satan.  He  is  the  great  enemy,  —  an 
 outcast  from  all  joy,  and  opponent  of  all 
 goodness  and  all  blessedness.  His  mind 
 is  enmity  against  God;  enmity  against 
 angels,  fallen  and  unfallen ;  enmity  against 
 man  both  redeemed  and  reprobate;  and, 
 because  thus  hateful  and  hating,  utterly 
 unhappy.  And  the  carnal  mind  is  so  far 
 Satanic  because  it  is  enmity  against  God  ; 
 just  as  the  misanthrope  is  so  far  Satanic 
 because  he  is  enmity  against  his  fellows. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 MALICE— Definition  of. 
 
 Malice  is  a  settled  or  deliberate  deter- 
 mination to  revenge  or  do  hurt  to  another. 
 It  more  frequently  denotes  the  disposition 
 of  inferior  minds  to  execute  every  purpose 
 of  mischief  within  the  more  limited  circle 
 of  their  abilities.  C.  Buclc. 
 
 MALICE— Murder  of. 
 
 Malice  is  the  devil's  picture.  Lust 
 makes  men  brutish,  and  malice  makes  them 
 devilish.  Malice  is  mental  murder ;  you 
 may  kill  a  man  and  never  touch  him  ; 
 '*  Whosoever  hateth  his  brother  is  a  mur- 
 derer." T.  Wat&on. 
 
 MALICE— Treatment  of. 
 
 Malice  scorn'd  puts  out 
 Itself ;  but  argued,  gives  a  kind  of  credit 
 To  a  false  accusation.  Massinger. 
 
 MALICE  AND  RANCOUR. 
 
 Malice,  in  Latin,  maliiia,  from  mains, 
 bad,  signifies  the  very  essence  of  badness 
 lying  in  the  heart :  Manoonr  is  only  con- 
 tinued hatred ;  the  former  requires  no  ex- 
 ternal cause  to  provoke  it,  it  is  inherent  in 
 the  mind ;  the  latter  must  be  caused  by 
 some  personal  offence.  Malice  is  properly 
 the  love  of  evil  for  evil's  sake,  and  is,  there- 
 fore, confined  to  no  number  or  quality  of 
 objects,  and  limited  to  do  circumstances ; 
 rancour,  as  it  depends  upon  external  ob- 
 jects for  its  existence,  so  it  is  confined  to 
 such  objects  only  as  are  liable  to  cause 
 disjjleasure  or  anger.  Malice  will  impel 
 a  man  to  do  mischief  to  those  who  have 
 not  injured  him ;  rancour  can  subsist  only 
 between  those  who  have  had  sufficient  con- 
 nection to  be  at  variance.  O.  Crabb. 
 
 MAMMON— a  Blessing  and  a  Curse. 
 
 Mammon  has  enriched  his  thousands, 
 and  lias  damned  his  ten  tliousands. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 MAMMON— an  Enemy. 
 
 Mammon  over  us — made  the  object  of 
 affection  and  faith— will  be  found  in  time 
 to  have  none  of  the  attributes  correspond- 
 ing to  such  sentiments.     The  idolator  of 
 
 wrath,  like  other  idolaters,  will  discover 
 one  day,  that  the  thing  he  worships  will 
 turn  out  "  a  devil  and  not  a  god." 
 
 Binnei/. 
 MAMMON— a  Friend. 
 
 If,  instead  of  serving  mammon,  a  man 
 compels  it  to  serve  him;  if,  instead  of 
 making  it  his  master,  he  uses  it  as  his 
 slave ;  if,  instead  of  looking  up  to  it,  he 
 places  it  beneath  him,  makes  it  look  up 
 towards  himself,  to  know  his  will  and  do 
 his  bidding;  if  he  thus  regards  it  as  an 
 instrument,  and  employs  it,  as  it  may  be 
 employed,  for  the  promotion  of  great  and 
 good  objects, — why,  then,  its  very  nature 
 will  change  :  it  will  be  faithful  and  de- 
 voted, pure  and  upright,  tender  and  true, 
 for  it  will  partake  the  character  and  be 
 filled  with  the  spirit  of  its  Master  and 
 Lord.  The  great  brazen  idol,  when  de- 
 posed from  its  unrighteous  pre-eminence, 
 broken  to  fragments  and  stamped  to  dust 
 under  the  foot  of  the  man  who  stands 
 over  it,  will  be  found  to  have  become 
 most  precious.  Its  dust  then  turns  into 
 living  seed,  which  can  be  scattered  abroad 
 by  the  strong  hand,  and  sown  beside  all 
 waters ;  and  which  will  spring  up  and  be 
 abundantly  productive — productive  of  that 
 golden  grain  which  is  worthy  of  being 
 gathered  into  the  garner  of  God.  These 
 remarks  are  sufficient  to  indicate  the 
 meaning  of  the  statement,  that  we  may 
 "  make  friends  of" — that  is,  secure  advan- 
 tages by  or  through  the  wise  use  of — "  the 
 unrighteous  " — or  deceitful  and  slippery — 
 mammon.  Ibid. 
 
 MAMMON— Meanness  of. 
 
 Mammon  led  them  on ; 
 Mammon,  the  least  erected  spirit  that  fell 
 From  heaven ;  for  e'en  in  heaven  his  looks 
 
 and  thoughts 
 Were   always  downward    bent,   admiring 
 
 more 
 The  riches  of  heaven's  pavement,  trodden 
 
 ■gold, 
 Than  aught,  divine  or  holy,  else  enjoy'd 
 In  vision  beatific  :  by  him  first 
 Men  also,  and  by  his  suggestion  taught, 
 Ransack'd  the  centre,  and  with  impious 
 
 hands 
 Rifled  the  bowels  of  their  mother  earth 
 For  treasures,  better  hid.  Milton. 
 
 MAMMON— Signification  of. 
 
 Mammon  signifies  wealth,  riches,  worldly 
 property.  Jiiiiney. 
 
 MAMMON  —Unrighteous. 
 
 The  words  "  unrigliteous"  and  "un- 
 righteousness," employed  in  relation  to 
 mammon,  do  not  mean  that  riches  are 
 always  the  product  of  fraud  and  injustice; 
 but  that,  if  t^iey  are  "  served,"  looked  up 
 
MAK. 
 
 to,  made  an  idol  of,  they  will  be  found  to 
 be  false  and  deceitful ;  that  is,  they  will 
 prove  to  be  "  unrighteous,"  in  the  sense 
 of  promising  what  they  never  perform. 
 They  will  be  like  a  painted  bubble  which 
 vanishes  when  grasped ;  or  like  "  a  broken 
 reed"  that  pierces  the  hand  of  him  that 
 leans  upon  it.  Binney. 
 
 MAN— Bustling. 
 
 A  "  bustling  "  man  is,  to  a  man  of  busi- 
 ness, what  a  monkey  is  to  a  man.  He  is 
 the  shadow  of  despatch,  or  rather  the  echo 
 thereof;  for  he  maketh  noise  enough  for 
 an  alarm.  The  quickness  of  a  true  man  of 
 business  he  imitateth  excellently  well,  but 
 neither  his  silence  nor  his  method ;  and  it 
 is  to  be  noted  that  he  is  ever  most  vehe- 
 ment about  matters  of  no  significance.  He 
 is  always  in  such  headlong  haste  to  over- 
 take the  next  minute,  that  he  loseth  half 
 the  minute  in  hand  ;  and  yet  is  full  of  in- 
 dignation and  impatience  at  other  people's 
 slowness,  and  wasteth  more  time  in  re- 
 iterating his  love  of  despatch  than  would 
 suffice  for  doing  a  great  deal  of  business. 
 He  never  giveth  you  his  quiet  attention 
 with  a  mind  centred  on  what  you  are  say- 
 ing, but  hears  yon  with  a  restless  eye, 
 and  a  perpetual  shifting  posture;  and  is 
 so  eager  to  show  his  quickness,  that  he 
 interrupteth  you  a  dozen  times,  misunder- 
 stands you  as  often,  and  ends  by  making 
 you  and  himself  lose  twice  as  much  time 
 as  was  necessary.  S.  Rogers. 
 
 MAN — a  Complex  Being. 
 
 How  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how 
 august, 
 
 How  complicate,  how  wonderful  is  man  ! 
 
 How  passing  wonder  He,  who  made  him 
 such? 
 
 Who  centred  in  our  make  such  strange 
 extremes ! 
 
 Prom  different  natures  marvellously  mix'd, 
 
 Connection  exquisite  of  distant  worlds  ! 
 
 Distinguish'd  link  in  being's  endless  chain  ! 
 
 Midway  from  nothing  to  the  Deity  ! 
 
 A  beam  ethereal,  sullied  and  absorpt ! 
 
 Though  sullied  and  dishonour'd,  still  Di- 
 vine ! 
 
 Dim  miniature  of  greatness  absolute  ! 
 
 An  heir  of  glory  !  a  frail  child  of  dust ! 
 
 Helpless  immortal !  insect  infinite ! 
 
 A  worm  ! — a  God !  Young. 
 
 MAN— Creation  of. 
 
 The  enlightened  and  pious  philosophy  of 
 the  present  day  recognises  as  a  fact,  on 
 the  authority  of  revelation,  that  the  human 
 species  came  upon  this  pl.met  solely  in 
 virtue  of  a  direct  act  of  creation  by  the 
 Almighty.  God  created  man  in  His  own 
 image — in  the  image  of  God  created  He 
 Mm.  And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of 
 the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  breathed  into 
 
 his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life ;  and  man 
 became  a  living  soul.  "  He  did  not  merely 
 possess  it,"  observes  Coleridge,  "  he  became 
 it.  It  was  his  proper  being  ;  his  truest 
 self;  the  man  in  the  man.  All  organized 
 beings  have  life  in  common,  each  after  its 
 kind.  This,  therefore,  all  animals  possess, 
 and  man  as  an  animal.  But  in  addition  to 
 this,  God  transferred  into  man  a  higher 
 gift,  and  specially  imbreathed  even  a 
 living  —  that  is,  self-subsisting  —  soul ;  a 
 soul  having  its  life  in  itself."  Timbs. 
 
 None  of  the  researches  of  geology  in  any 
 part  of  the  globe  have  succeeded  in  bring- 
 ing to  light  one  single  fragment  of  the 
 fossilised  frame  of  man  in  any  undisturbed 
 geological  formation ;  by  which  is  meant 
 those  portions  of  the  earth's  crust  to 
 which,  though  the  most  recent  forma- 
 tions in  geology,  geologists  assign  a  higher 
 antiquity  than  any  reached  by  history. 
 It  is  true  that  a  solitary  specimen  of  a 
 petrified  skeleton,  found  in  the  island  of 
 Guadaloupe,  is  to  be  seen  in  the  British 
 Museum,  and  which,  on  account  of  certain 
 peculiarities  in  the  pelvis,  is  regarded  as 
 having  been  the  skeleton  of  a  negro.  If 
 this  be  so,  its  date  must  be,  of  course, 
 subsequent  to  the  discovery  of  Guadaloupe 
 by  Europeans,  a.d.  1493.  It  is  not,  in 
 other  words,  the  skeleton  of  one  of  the 
 Caribs,  the  original  inhabitants,  and  can- 
 not be  more  than  between  two  and  three 
 hundred  years  old. 
 
 Thus,  then,  the  new  and  brilliant  science 
 of  geology  attests  that  man  loas  the  last 
 of  created  beings  on  this  planet.  If  her 
 data  be  consistent  and  true,  and  worthy 
 of  scientific  consideration,  she  affords  con- 
 clusive evidence  that,  as  we  are  told  in 
 Scripture,  he  cannot  have  occupied  the 
 earth  longer  than  six  thousand  gears. 
 
 Hitchcock. 
 MAN— Decided. 
 
 Behold  the  decided  man ;  he  may  be  a 
 most  evil  man ;  he  may  be  grasping,  ava- 
 ricious, covetous,  unprincipled;  still,  look 
 how  the  difficulties  of  life  kuow  the  strong 
 man,  and  give  up  the  contest  with  him.  A 
 universal  homage  is  paid  to  the  decided 
 man,  as  soon  as  he  appears  among  men ; 
 he  walks  by  the  light  of  his  own  judg- 
 ment ;  he  has  made  up  his  mind,  and 
 having  done  so,  henceforth,  action— action 
 is  before  him,  he  cannot  bear  to  sit  amidst 
 unrealised  speculations;  to  him  speculation 
 is  only  valualile  that  it  may  be  resolved  into 
 living  and  doing.  There  is  no  iudift'erence, 
 no  delay.  The  spirit  is  in  arms ;  all  is  in 
 earnest.  Thus  Pcnnpey,  when  hazarding 
 his  life  on  a  tempestuous  sea,  in  order  to 
 be  at  Rome  on  an  important  occasion,  said, 
 "  It  is  necessary  for  me  to  go ;  it  is  not 
 necessary  for  me  to  live."     Thus,  Ca?sar, 
 
570 
 
 MAN. 
 
 when  he  crossed  the  Rubicon,  turned  the 
 ships  upon  the  shore  which  brought  his 
 soldiers  to  laud,  that  there  might  be  no 
 return.  E.  F.  Sood. 
 
 MAN — Dependence  of. 
 
 JIau  has  really  some  dependence  on 
 everything  that  he  knows.  He  has  need 
 of  place,  to  contain  him  ;  of  time,  to 
 lengthen  out  his  duration  ;  of  elements, 
 to  compose  his  frame ;  of  motion,  to  pre- 
 serve his  life  ;  of  heat  and  food,  for 
 nourishment  ;  of  air,  for  respiration.  He 
 sees  the  light  which  shines  upon  him ;  he 
 feels  the  bodies  which  encircle  him ;  in 
 short,  he  contracts  an  alliance  with  the 
 whole  world.  Fascal. 
 
 M^OT— Descriptions  of. 
 
 The  attempts  of  philosophers  and  poets 
 to  describe  the  generic  character  of  man, 
 cannot  fail  to  interest  as  well  as  to  amuse. 
 Here  are  some  of  them  which  I  have  been 
 for  years  jotting  down. 
 
 Man  is  a  two-legged  animal  without 
 feathers.  —  Plato.  It  is  said  Socrates 
 brought  a  cock  despoiled  of  his  feathers 
 into  Plato's  school,  exclaiming,  "  Eehold 
 the  man  of  Plato  ! " 
 
 Again,  he  has  been  called  "  A  laughing 
 animal ;  "  "A  cooking  animal ; "  "  An 
 animal  with  thumbs  ; "  "A  lazy  animal." 
 A  travelled  Frenchman  being  asked  to 
 name  one  characteristic  of  all  the  races 
 he  had  visited,  replied,  "  Lazy  1 " 
 
 A  tool-making  animal. —  Dr.  Franklin. 
 
 A  cultivating  animal. —  Walker. 
 
 A  poetical  animal. — Hazlitt. 
 
 Man  is  a  dupeable  animal.  Quacks  in 
 medicine,  quacks  in  religion,  and  quacks 
 in  politics  know  this,  and  act  upon  that 
 knowledge ;  there  is  scarcely  any  one  who 
 may  not,  like  a  trout,  be  "  taken  by  tick- 
 ling."— Sotdhey. 
 
 Man  is  not  man  because  he  is  a  reason- 
 able, but  because  he  is  a  religious  animal. 
 Cicero  and  Plutarch  have  remarked,  that 
 up  to  their  time  not  a  single  people  was 
 known  among  whom  no  traces  of  religion 
 were  to  be  found.  The  sentiment  of  deity 
 is  natural  to  man.  It  is  that  illumination 
 which  St.  John  denominates  "  the  true 
 light,  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
 cometh  into  the  world."  I  condemn  cer- 
 tain modern  authors,  some  even  mission- 
 aries, for  having  asserted  that  certain 
 nations  were  destitute  of  all  sense  of  the 
 deity.  St.  Pierre. 
 
 MAN— Destiny  of. 
 
 I  can  not  believe  that  earth  is  man's 
 abiding  place.  It  can't  be  that  our  life  is 
 cast  up  by  the  ocean  of  eternity  to  float  a 
 moment  upon  its  waves  and  then  sink  into 
 nothingness !  Else  wliy  is  it  that  the 
 glorious  aspirations,  which  leap  like  angels 
 
 from  the  temple  of  our  heart,  are  for  ever 
 wandering  about  unsatisfied?  Why  is  it 
 that  the  rainbow  and  clouds  come  over  us 
 with  a  beauty  that  is  not  of  earth,  and 
 then  pass  off  and  leave  us  to  muse  upon 
 their  favoured  loveliness  ?  Why  is  it  that 
 the  stars,  who  hold  their  festival  around 
 the  midnight  throne,  are  set  above  the 
 grasp  of  our  limited  faculties,  for  ever 
 mocking  us  with  their  unapproachable 
 glory  ?  And,  finally,  why  is  it  that  bright 
 forms  of  human  beauty  are  presented  to 
 our  view,  and  then  taken  from  us,  leaving 
 the  thousand  streams  of  our  affections  to 
 flow  back  in  Alpine  torrents  upon  our 
 hearts  ?  We  are  born  for  a  higher  destiny 
 than  that  of  earth ;  there  is  a  realm  where 
 the  rainbow  never  fades,  where  the  stars 
 will  be  spread  before  us  like  islands  that 
 slumber  on  the  ocean  —  and  where  the 
 beings  that  pass  before  us  like  shadows 
 will  stay  in  our  presence  for  ever.  Bulwer. 
 
 Thou  art  not  created  to  live  perpetually 
 among  mire  and  dirt,  and  to  be  tied  to  a 
 wretciied,  frail,  and  perishable  body,  to 
 walk  upon  thorns,  and  to  embroil  thyself 
 in  the  toils  and  (uires  of  a  mortal  life ; 
 there  are  above,  palaces  of  stars,  of  intelli- 
 gences, of  incomprehensible  lights,  of  in- 
 effable beauties  which  expect  thee,  of 
 crowns  prepared  for  thee,  of  sceptres  made 
 to  flU  thy  hands.  All  timel  are  for  thee, 
 and  all  which  Nature  endeavoureth  here 
 below,  is  but  to  contribute  to  thy  content- 
 ment. Thou  art  the  son  of  a  noble  Father, 
 who  makes  men  happy  at  His  pleasure. 
 He  loves  thee  as  His  heart,  and  would  have 
 thee  near  Him,  to  accomplish  thee  with 
 all  His  dearest  delights,  and  the  height  of 
 His  glories.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 MAN— Dignity  of. 
 
 Thou  hast  a  mind ;  intellect 
 
 wiugeth  thee  to  heaven, 
 Tendeth  thy  state  on  earth,  and  by  it  thou 
 
 divest  down  to  hell ; 
 Thou  hast  measured  the  belt  of  Saturn, 
 
 thou  hast  weighed  the  moons  of  Ju- 
 piter, 
 And  seen,  by  reason's  eye,  the  centre  of 
 
 the  globe ; 
 Subtly  hast  thou  numbered  by  billions  the 
 
 leagues  between  sun  and  sun. 
 And  noted  in  thy  book  the  coming  of  their 
 
 shadows : 
 With    marvellous    unerring    truth     thou 
 
 knowest  to  an  inch,  and  to  an  instant, 
 The  when  and  the  where  of  the  comet's 
 
 path  that  shall  seem  to  rush  by  at  thy 
 
 command ; 
 Arise,  thou  king  of  mind,  and  survey  thy 
 
 dignity.  Tupper. 
 
 MAN— Evil  and  Good. 
 
 An  evil  man  is  clay  to  God,  wax  to  the 
 
MAN. 
 
 571 
 
 devil.  GotI  may  stamp  hira  into  powder 
 or  temper  him  anew ;  but  none  of  His 
 means  can  melt  him.  Contrariwise,  a  good 
 man  is  God's  wax,  and  Satan's  clay ;  he 
 relents  at  every  look  of  God,  but  is  not 
 stirred  at  any  temptation.  I  had  rather 
 bow  than  break  to  God ;  but,  for  Satan 
 and  the  world  I  had  rather  be  broken  in 
 pieces  witli  their  violence,  than  sufi'er  my- 
 self to  be  bowed  to  their  obedience. 
 
 B]}.  Sail. 
 M.ilT- Great. 
 
 A  great  man  is  affable  in  his  converse, 
 generous  iu  his  temper,  and  immoveable  in 
 what  he  has  maturely  resolved  upon;  and 
 as  prosperity  does  not  make  him  haughty 
 and  imperious,  so  neither  does  adversity 
 sink  him  into  meanness  and  dejection ; 
 for  if  ever  he  shows  more  spirit  than  ordi- 
 nary, it  is  wlien  he  is  ill-used,  and  the 
 world  frowns  upon  him ;  in  short,  he  is 
 equally  removed  from  the  extremes  of 
 servility  and  pride,  and  scorns  either  to 
 trample  upon  a  worm,  or  sneak  to  an  em- 
 peror. Collier. 
 
 MAN — Greatness  of. 
 
 But  how  is  man  "little?"  He  has 
 competent  knowledge  of  the  character  of 
 God ;  he  is  only  "  a  little  lower  than  the 
 angels,"  and  has  dominion  over  all  the 
 works  of  God.  He  can  comprehend  the 
 starry  heavens ;  he  is  Godlike  in  his  ori- 
 ginal nature ;  for  "  in  the  image  of  God 
 made  He  him."  The  sublime  truths  which 
 God  has  revealed  to  man  show  what  esti- 
 mate God  has  of  man's  capacity  and  re- 
 sponsibility. A  finite  creature  can  insult 
 the  majesty  of  heaven  as  deliberately  and 
 intelligently  as  the  archangel ;  he  can  an- 
 nihilate the  authority  of  God  in  his  own 
 soul,  and  wherever  he  has  influence  ;  if  all 
 finite  creatures  should  do  this — and  there 
 are  no  creatures  who  are  not  finite — there 
 would  be  no  moral  universe,  no  Divine 
 government.  N.  Adams. 
 
 In  these  two  things  the  greatness  of 
 man  consists.  One  is  to  have  God  so 
 dwelling  in  us  as  to  impart  His  character 
 to  us ;  and  the  other  is  to  have  God  so 
 dwelling  iu  us  that  we  recognise  His  pre- 
 sence, and  know  that  we  are  His  and  He 
 is  ours.  They  are  perfectly  distinct.  To 
 have  God  in  us,  this  is  salvation  ;  to  kiioio 
 that  God  is  in  us,  that  is  assurance. 
 
 F.  W.  Sobertsoii. 
 MAN— Happiest. 
 
 The  happiest  man  on  earth,  nay,  the 
 only  happy  man,  is  the  "  man  in  Christ." 
 In  him  tliou  beholdest  at  the  same  time, 
 the  most  important,  as  well  as  the  most 
 mysterious  phenomenon  undcjr  heaven. 
 His  exterior  indeed  at  most,  but  little  or 
 nothing  of  his  dignity.     That  which  dis- 
 
 tinguishes him  from  others  is  within.  Let 
 us  call  up  for  once  such  an  individual  before 
 us.  We  first  inquire  respecting  his  family 
 connections.  We  ask.  Whence  art  thou  ? 
 He  points  upwards.  Where  does  thy  father 
 dwell  ?  Near  and  afar  of!';  is  the  reply. 
 How  far  off?  As  far  as  heaven  is  from 
 the  earth.  How  near?  As  near  as  the 
 mother  is  to  the  suckling  which  reposes 
 on  her  bosom.  What  is  thy  Father  ?  He 
 is  an  architect.  What  has  He  built  ?  The 
 world.  What  is  He  ?  A  bearer.  What 
 does  He  bear?  All  things  by  the  word  of 
 His  power.  What  more  is  He  ?  A  land- 
 lord. Who  dines  at  His  table?  The 
 eyes  of  all  wait  upon  Him.  Anything 
 more  ?  He  is  a  pilot.  Where  does  he  sit  ? 
 At  the  helm,  even  of  my  little  vessel 
 And  what  is  His  name  ?  "  The  Lord  of 
 Hosts."  What,  is  God  thy  Father  ?  Yes  j 
 God  is  my  Father.  In  the  sense  that  He 
 is  so  to  all  ?  No ;  as  He  is  but  to  few. 
 Why  dost  thou  call  Him  thy  Father  ?  Be- 
 cause He  loves  me  with  paternal  aflectiou. 
 For  another  reason  ?  I  was  begotten  by 
 Him.  In  that  case  thou  art  of  high  rank  ? 
 Yes,  of  the  very  highest.  And  dost  thou 
 possess  great  riches  ?  My  treasure  is  God. 
 And  wouldst  thou  exchange  with  anyone  ? 
 No,  not  with  a  seraph.  Art  tliou  not  then 
 a  sinner  in  the  sight  of  God  ?  No.  What 
 then?  Righteous  and  acceptable.  In  thy- 
 self ?  By  no  means.  In  whom  then  ?  In 
 the  eternal  Lamb  of  God  ! 
 
 Dr.  Krummacher. 
 MAN— Happy. 
 
 He  is  the  happy  man,  whose  life  e'en  now 
 Shows  somewhat  of  that  happier  life  to 
 
 come ;  [state. 
 
 Who,  doom'd  to  an  obscure  and  tranquil 
 Is  pleased   with  it,  and  were  he  free  to 
 
 choose. 
 Would  make  his  fate  his  choice;   whom 
 
 peace  the  fruit  [faith. 
 Of    virtue,    and    whom    virtue,    fruit    of 
 Prepare  for  happiness  ;  bespeak  him  one 
 Content  indeed  to  sojourn  while  he  must 
 Below  the  skies,  but  having  there  his  home. 
 Coivper. 
 
 Our  heavenly  Father  in  His  boundless 
 goodness,  has  made  His  creatures  that  they 
 should  be  happy,  and  in  His  wisdom  has 
 fitted  His  means  to  His  ends,  giving  to  all 
 of  them  different  qualities  and  faculties,  in 
 using  and  developing  which  they  fulfil 
 their  destiny,  and,  running  their  uniform 
 course  according  to  His  prescription,  they 
 find  that  haj)piness  which  He  has  intended 
 for  them,  Frince  Albert. 
 
 MAN— Holy. 
 
 As  the  atmosphere,  laden  with  rejected 
 gases,  comes  forth  from  the  lungs  and 
 mingles  with  the  common  air,  so  do  the 
 
572 
 
 KAN. 
 
 tlioiig-lits  and  affections  of  our  spiritual 
 nature  go  forth  to  be  iubreatbed  again  by 
 other  souls.  On  this  ground,  Jesus  taught 
 that  when  the  Holy  Spirit  dwells  in  man, 
 streams  of  holy  influence  flow  forth  from 
 that  man's  spirit.  If  a  frail  flower 
 breathes  sweetness  into  the  general  air, 
 how  much  more  a  holy  man  ?  If  a  cess- 
 pool emits  a  pestiferous  influence,  how 
 much  more  a  bad  man  ?  J.  FuJsford. 
 
 MAN— Humble. 
 
 He  is  a  lowly  valley,  sweetly  planted 
 and  well  watered  ;  the  proud  man's  earth, 
 whereon  he  trampleth,  but  secretly  full  of 
 wealthy  mines,  more  worth  than  he  that 
 walks  over  tliera  ;  a  rich  stone  set  in  lead; 
 and  lastly,  a  true  temple  of  God  built  with 
 a  low  roof.  B;p.  Sail. 
 
 MAN— Idle, 
 
 The  idle  man  is  the  devil's  cushion,  on 
 which  he  talceth  his  free  ease,  who,  as  he 
 is  incapable  of  any  good,  so  he  is  fitly  dis- 
 posed for  all  evil  motions.  The  standing 
 water  soon  stinketh ;  whereas  the  current 
 ever  keeps  clear  and  cleanly,  conveying 
 down  all  noisome  matter  that  might  infect 
 it  by  the  force  of  his  stream.  If  I  do  but 
 little  good  to  others  by  my  endeavours; 
 vet  this  is  a  great  good  to  me,  that  by  my 
 labour  I  keep  myself  from  hurt. 
 
 lUd. 
 MAN— Just. 
 
 The  just  man  is  not  the  mere  rigidly 
 equitable  man ;  but  the  man  who,  under 
 the  influence  of  the  principles  of  true  re- 
 ligion, unites  benevolence  with  righteous- 
 ness, and  seeks,  in  acts  of  kindness  as  well 
 as  of  equity,  to  fulfil  "  the  royal  law."  He 
 is  the  good  man,  as  distinguished,  from 
 the  merely  "righteous"  for  whom  the 
 apostle  says,  "some  would  even  dare  to 
 die."  Such  a  character  was  Job  ;  in  whom 
 righteousness  and  goodness  appear  blend- 
 ing in  lovely  practical  union. 
 
 Br.  Wardlato. 
 MAN— Lordship  of. 
 
 Scripture  is  no  story  of  the  material 
 universe.  A  single  chapter  is  sufficient  to 
 tell  us  that  "God  made  the  heavens  and 
 the  earth."  Man  is  the  central  figure 
 there,  or,  to  speak  more  truly,  the  only 
 figure;  all  which  is  there  besides  serves 
 but  as  a  background  for  him.  He  is  not 
 one  part  of  the  furniture  of  this  planet, 
 not  the  highest  merely  in  the  scale  of  its 
 creatures,  but  the  Lord  of  all — sun,  moon, 
 and  stars,  and  all  the  visible  creation,  bor- 
 rowing all  their  worth  and  their  significance 
 from  the  relations  where  they  stand  to  him. 
 Such  he  appears  there  in  the  ideal  worth 
 and  dignity  of  his  unfallen  condition ; 
 and  even  now,  when  only  a  broken  frag- 
 ment of  the  sceptre  with  which  once  he 
 
 ruled  the  world,  remains  in  his  hand,  such 
 he  is  commanded  to  regard  himself  still. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 MAN— lost. 
 
 We  are  lost  as  the  wayfarer  is  lost, 
 because  we  have  gone  away  from  our 
 Father's  house,  and  we  are  wandering  in  the 
 wilderness  ; — in  a  wilderness  where  there 
 is  no  supply  for  our  soul's  greatest  needs, 
 where  we  ai-e  surrounded  with  perils,  and 
 whence  we  can  of  ourselves  find  no  way 
 to  return.  We  are  lost,  as  the  great  ship 
 is  lost,  for  we  have  made  shipwreck  of  our 
 best  interest ;  and  we  drive,  without  helm, 
 over  the  trackless  sea  of  life  :  and,  away 
 from  Jesus,  we  know  no  haven  for  which 
 to  steer.  We  are  lost,  like  the  guilty  child 
 that  by  reckless  sin  has  broken  his  father's 
 heart ;  for,  evil  by  nature,  and  worse  by 
 daily  temj)tation  and  transgressions,  we 
 are,  left  to  ourselves, lost  to  holiness,  to  hap- 
 piness, to  heaven,  to  God.  We  have  lost  our 
 birthright,  lost  our  Father,  lost  our  home, 
 lost  our  way,  lost  our  hope,  lost  our  time, 
 our  souls  !  And  what  loss  there  is  in  our 
 unimproved  and  unsanctified  powers  and 
 faculties  !  How  these  souls  are  lost,  in  the 
 sense  that  so  little  is  made  of  what  was 
 meant  for  so  much;  lost,  as  the  untilled 
 field  is  lost ;  as  the  flower  which  no  man 
 sees  is  lost ;  as  the  house  built  and  then 
 left  empty  is  lost ;  as  the  ship  which  rots 
 in  harbour  is  lost !  Are  not  these  souls 
 made  for  God's  glory  ?  ought  not  every 
 power  about  them  to  conduce  to  that!  oh, 
 what  loss  of  noble  possibilities  unless  they 
 do !  JBoyd. 
 
 MAN— Material  of. 
 
 Man  bath  received  from  God  not  only  an 
 excellent  fabric  and  composure  of  body, 
 but,  if  you  consider  it,  the  very  matter  of 
 which  the  body  is  composed  is  far  more 
 excellent  than  dust  or  earth.  Take  a  piece 
 of  earth,  or  handful  of  dust,  and  compare 
 them  with  the  flesh  of  man ;  that  flesh  is 
 earth  indeed,  but  that  flesh  is  far  better 
 than  mere  earth.  This  shows  the  power 
 of  the  Creator  infinitely  exceeding  the 
 power  of  a  creature.  A  goldsmith  can 
 make  you  a  goodly  jewel,  but  you  must 
 give  him  gold  and  precious  stones  of  which 
 to  make  it :  he  can  put  the  matter  into  a 
 better  I'orm,  but  he  cannot  make  the  matter 
 better.  The  engraver  can  make  a  curious 
 statue,  exactly  limbed  and  proportioned  to 
 the  life,  out  of  a  rough  piece,  but  tha 
 matter  must  be  the  same  you  put  into  his 
 hands  :  if  you  give  him  marble,  it  will  be 
 a  marble  statue;  he  cannot  mend  the 
 matter.  Man's  work  often  exceeds  his 
 matter,  but  man's  work  cannot  make  the 
 matter  exceed  itself.  If  the  body,  then, 
 be  but  clay  and  hath  a  foundation  of  dust, 
 do  not  bestow  too  much  cost  upon  the  clay 
 
MAN. 
 
 573 
 
 and  the  dust.  In  an  over-cared  hodj  there 
 ever  dwells  a  neglected  soul.  We  usually 
 laugh  at  children  when  they  are  making 
 houses  of  clay.  They  whose  care  is  over 
 active  for  the  body  are  but  children  of  a 
 greater  stature,  and  show  they  have  so 
 much  more  folly  in  their  hearts  than  they. 
 There  is  no  child  like  to  the  old  child. 
 
 Caryl. 
 MAN— a  Missionary. 
 
 Every  man  is  a  missionary  now  and  for 
 ever,  for  good  or  for  evil,  whether  he  in- 
 tends or  designs  it  or  not.  He  may  be  a 
 blot,  radiating  his  dark  influence  outward 
 to  the  very  circumference  of  society  ;  or  he 
 may  be  a  blessing,  spreading  benediction 
 over  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  world, 
 but  a  blank  he  cannot  be.  There  are  no 
 moral  blanks  ;  there  are  no  neutral  charac- 
 ters. We  ai'e  either  the  sower  that  sows 
 and  corrupts,  or  the  light  that  splendidly 
 illuminates,  and  the  salt  that  silently  ope- 
 rates ;  but  being  dead  or  alive  every  man 
 speaks.  Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 MAN — Natural,  Legal,  and  Christian. 
 
 The  natural  man  neither  fears  nor  loves 
 God  ;  one  under  the  law,  fears  ;  one  under 
 grace,  loves  Him.  The  first  has  no  light 
 in  the  things  of  God,  but  walks  in  utter 
 darkness  ;  the  second  sees  the  painful  sight 
 of  hell ;  the  third  the  joyous  light  of 
 heaven.  He  that  sleeps  in  death  hath  a 
 false  peace.  He  that  is  awakened,  hath  no 
 peace  at  all.  He  that  believes,  has  true 
 peace,  the  peace  of  God  filling  and  ruling 
 his  heart.  The  heathen,  baptised  or  un- 
 baptised,  has  a  fancied  liberty,  which  is  in- 
 deed licentiousness  ;  the  Jew  (or  one  under 
 the  Jewish  dispensation)  is  in  heavy, 
 grievous  bondage ;  the  Christian  enjoys 
 the  true  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of 
 God.  An  unawakened  child  of  the  devil 
 sins  willingly  ;  one  that  is  awakened,  sins 
 unwillingly  ;  a  child  of  God  sinneth  not, 
 but  keepeth  himself,  and  the  wicked  one 
 toucheth  him  not.  To  conclude :  the 
 natural  man  neither  conquers  nor  fights ; 
 the  man  under  the  law  fights  with  sin, 
 but  cannot  conquer  ;  the  man  under  grace 
 fights  and  conquers,  yea,  "is  more  than 
 conqueror,  through  Him  that  loveth  him." 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 MAN— Powers  For  and  Against. 
 
 The  world,  the  devil,  and  the  natural 
 mind  of  man,  are  the  mighty  three,  which 
 apologise  for  his  degeneracy,  and  cease- 
 lessly labour  to  hold  him  in  it ;  Heaven, 
 the  Loi'd,  and  his  conscience,  are  the 
 mightier  three,  which  plead  for  his  regen- 
 eration, and  ceaselessly  strive  to  conduct 
 him  through  it.  As  neither  the  mighty 
 nor  the  mightier  three,  can  move  or  lead  a 
 man,  except  by  the  consent  of  his  own  will, 
 it  often  happens,  through  the  favour  and 
 
 partiality  of  his  will,  that  the  mighty  three 
 prevail  over  the  mightier.  Man  himself 
 decides,  whether  the  lower  or  the  higher 
 powers  shall  carry  him  away. 
 
 J.  P ills/or d. 
 MAN— Progress  o£ 
 
 The  sun  does  not  shine  brighter  than  it 
 did  on  Adam  :  the  ocean  is  not  more  grand 
 now  than  when  the  old  Phcenicians  plied 
 it  with  their  oars :  the  birds  do  not 
 sing  more  sweetly  now  than  they  did  in 
 the  bowers  of  Eden.  But  how  man  pro- 
 gresses !  Look  at  man  socially ;  compare 
 England  now,  with  what  it  was  when 
 CjEsar  landed  on  our  shores  :  look  at  him 
 intellectually ;  compare  the  boy  Newton, 
 with  Sir  Isaac,  the  astronomer  :  look  at 
 liim,  morally ;  compare  Saul  of  Tarsus, 
 with  Paul  at  Athens.  Br.  Tlwmccs. 
 
 MAN — without  Religion. 
 
 Man  is  no  better  than  a  leaf  driven  by 
 the  wind  until  he  has  completely  mastered 
 his  great,  lonely  duties.  If  he  has  no 
 habit  of  retiring  from  all  that  is  icorldly, 
 and  of  conversing  face  to  face  with  his 
 inner  man,  if  he  does  not,  alone,  invite  the 
 gaze  of  God  ;  if  he  does  not  draw  down 
 upon  his  soul  "the  powers  of  the  world  to 
 come,"  then  he  is  no  man  yet ;  he  has  not 
 found  the  life  of  man,  nor  the  strength  of 
 man  ;  he  is  a  poor  unhappy  man,  sporting 
 only  with  shadows,  and  atfrighted  before 
 the  real  and  eternal.  He  owns  a  great 
 house,  a  wonderful  house,  but  it  is  shut 
 up,  and  he  lives  outside  with  his  fellow 
 cattle.  The  inside  is  wholly  unknown  to 
 him,  and  he  has  lived  outside  so  long,  that 
 he  is  afraid  of  the  inside.  J.  Pulsford.  , 
 
 MAN— Seeming-Wise. 
 
 There  are  a  sort  of  men,  whose  visages 
 
 Do    cream  and  mantle,    like  a  standing 
 
 pond ; 
 And  do  a  wilful  stillness  entertain, 
 With  purpose  to  be  dress" d  in  an  opinion 
 Of  wisdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit ; 
 As  who  would  say,  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 
 And  when  I  ope  my  lips,  let  no  dog  bark. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 MAN — A  Temple  in  Ruins. 
 
 "If  any  man  defile  the  temple  of  God, 
 him  shall  God  destroy ;  for  the  temple  of 
 God  is  holy,  which  temple  ye  are"  (1  Cor. 
 iii.  17).  That  God  hath  withdrawn  him- 
 self, and  left  this  his  temple  desolate,  we 
 have  many  sad  and  plain  proofs  before  us. 
 The  stately  ruins  are  visible  to  every  eye, 
 that  bear  in  their  front,  yet  extant,  their 
 doleful  inscription —"  Here  God  once 
 dwelt."  Enough  appears  of  the  admi- 
 rable frame  and  structure  of  the  soul  of 
 man  to  show  the  Divine  presence  did 
 sometimes  reside  in  it ;  more  than  enough 
 of  vicious  deformity  to  complain  he  is  now 
 
674 
 
 MAN— MAKRIAGE. 
 
 retired  and  gone.  The  lamps  are  extinct, 
 the  altar  overturned,  the  light  and  love 
 are  now  vanished,  which  did  the  one  shine 
 with  so  heavenly  briglitness,  the  other 
 burn  with  so  pious  fervour ;  the  golden 
 candlestick  is  displaced,  and  thrown  away 
 as  a  useless  thing,  to  make  room  for  the 
 throne  of  the  prince  of  darkness ;  the 
 sacred  incense,  which  sent  rolling  up  in 
 clouds  its  rich  perfume,  is  exchanged  for  a 
 poisonous,  hellish  vapour,  and  here  is, 
 '•instead  of  a  sweet  savour,  a  stench." 
 The  comely  order  of  this  house  is  turned 
 all  into  confusion  ;  the  ' '  beauties  of  holi- 
 ness" into  noisome  impurities ;  the  house 
 of  prayer  into  a  den  of  thieves  ;  for  every 
 lust  is  a  thief,  and  every  theft  sacrilege. 
 He  that  invites  you  to  take  a  view  of  the 
 soul  of  man,  gives  you  but  such  another 
 prospect,  and  doth  but  say  to  you,  "  Behold 
 tlie  desolation  ; "  all  things  rude  and  waste. 
 So  that,  should  there  be  any  pretence  to 
 tlie  Divine  presence,  it  might  be  said,  if 
 God  be  here,  why  is  it  thus  ?  The  faded 
 glory,  the  darkness,  the  disorder,  tp.e  im- 
 purity, the  decayed  state,  in  all  respects, 
 of  this  temple,  too  plainly  show  the  great 
 inhabitant  is  gone.  John  Howe. 
 
 MAN — Vastness  of. 
 
 "  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image."  Such 
 is  man's  height,  and  depth,  and  breadth, 
 and  mystery.  He  has  not  come  from  one 
 principle  or  distinction  of  the  Divine 
 Nature,  but  out  of  all  principles,  ilan  is 
 the  image  of  the  whole-  Deity.  There  is  in 
 hiu)  a  sanctuary  for  the  Father,  for  the  Son, 
 and  for  the  Holy  Ghost.  "  We  will  make 
 our  abode  with  him."  /.  Pulsford. 
 
 MAN  AND  WOMAN. 
 
 Man  is  strong ;  woman  is  beautiful. 
 Man  is  daring  and  confident ;  Woman  is 
 diffident  and  unassuming.  ]\Ian  is  great 
 in  action ;  woman  is  suffering.  Man 
 shines  abroad ;  woman  at  home.  Man 
 talks  to  convince ;  woman  to  persuade 
 and  please.  Man  has  a  rugged  heart ; 
 woman  a  soft  and  tender  one.  Man  pre- 
 vents misery  ;  woman  relieves  it.  Man  has 
 science  ;  woman  taste .  Man  has  judgment ; 
 woman  sensibility.  Man  is  a  being  of 
 justice  ;  woman  of  mercy.  Each  possesses 
 peculiar  gifts  and  a  wide  sphere  of  useful- 
 ness, and,  by  the  wise  use  of  these  respec- 
 tive gifts,  society  is  benefited  and  God  is 
 honoured.  Anon. 
 
 MAEEIAGE— Advantages  of.         ' 
 
 If  you  are  for  pleasure,  marry;  if  you 
 pri/?e  rosy  health,  marry.  A  good  wife  is 
 heaven's  last,  best  gift  to  a  man ;  his 
 angel  of  mercy  ;  minister  of  graces  innum- 
 bcrable  ;  his  gem  of  many  virtues  ;  his 
 casket  of  jewels.  Her  voice,  his  sweetest 
 music  ;  her  smiles,  his  brightest  day  ;  her 
 kiss,  the  guardian  of  innocence  ;  her  arms, 
 
 the  pale  of  his  safety,  the  halm  of  his 
 health,  the  balsam  of  his  life  ;  her  industry, 
 his  surest  wealth,  her  economy  his  safest 
 steward  ;  her  lips,  his  faithful  counsellors  ; 
 her  bosom,  the  softest  pillow  of  his  cares  ; 
 and  her  prayers,  the  ablest  advocates  of 
 Heaven's  blessing  on  his  head. 
 
 A  married  man  falling  into  misfortune 
 is  more  apt  to  retrieve  his  situation  in  the 
 world  than  a  single  one,  chiefly  because 
 his  spirits  are  soothed  and  retrieved  by 
 domestic  endearments,  and  his  self-respect 
 kept  alive  by  finding  that  although  all 
 abroad  be  darkness  and  humiliation,  yet 
 there  is  a  little  world  of  love  at  home  over 
 which  he  is  a  monarch.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 None  but  the  married  man  has  a  home 
 in  his  old  age.  None  has  friends  then,  but 
 he.  None  but  he  knows  and  feels  the 
 solace  of  the  domestic  hearth  ;  none  but  he 
 lives  and  freshens  in  his  green  old  age, 
 amid  the  affections  of  his  children.  There 
 is  no  tear  shed  for  the  old  bachelor  ;  there 
 is  no  ready  hand  and  kind  heart  to  cheer 
 him  in  his  loneliness  and  bereavement ; 
 there  is  none  in  whose  eyes  he  can  see 
 himself  reflected,  and  from  whose  lips  he 
 can  receive  the  unfailing  assurance  of  care 
 and  love.  He  may  be  courted  for  his 
 money  ;  he  may  eat  and  drink  and  revel ; 
 and  he  may  sicken  and  die  in  an  hotel  or 
 a  garret,  with  plenty  of  attendants  about 
 him,  like  so  many  cormorants  waiting  for 
 their  prey ;  but  he  will  never  know  what 
 it  is  to  be  loved,  and  to  live  and  die  amid 
 a  loved  circle.  He  can  never  know  the 
 comforts  of  the  domestic  fireside.  The 
 guardians  of  the  Holborn  Union  lately 
 advertised  for  candidates  to  fill  the  situa- 
 tion of  engineer  at  the  workhouse,  a  single 
 man,  a  wife  not  being  allowed  to  reside 
 on  the  premises.  Twenty-one  candidates 
 presented  themselves,  but  it  was  found 
 that,  as  to  testimonials,  character,  work- 
 manship, and  appearance,  the  best  men 
 were  all  married  men.  The  guardians  had 
 therefore  to  elect  a  married  man.        Anon. 
 
 MAERIAGE— a  Blessing. 
 
 Marriage  was  ordained  by  God,  insti- 
 tuted in  Paradise,  was  the  relief  of  a 
 natural  necessity,  and  the  first  blessing 
 from  the  Lord ;  he  gave  to  man  not  a 
 friend,  but  a  wife,  that  is,  a  friend  and  a 
 wife  too  (for  a  good  woman  is  in  her  soiil 
 the  same  that  a  man  is,  and  she  is  a  woman 
 only  in  her  body  ;  that  she  may  have  the 
 excellency  of  the  one,  and  the  usefulness 
 of  the  other,  and  become  amiable  in  both) ; 
 it  is  the  seminary  of  the  Church,  and  daily 
 brings  forth  sons  and  daughters  nnto  God. 
 ....  Marriage  is  a  school  and  exercise 
 of  virtue  ;  and  though  marriage  hath  cares, 
 yet  the  single  life  hath  desires,  which  are 
 more  troublesome  and    more    dangerous. 
 
mAERIAGE— MAHEIAGE  AND  CELIBACY. 
 
 575 
 
 and  often  end  in  sin,  while  the  cares  are 
 but  instances  of  duty  and  exercises  of 
 piety ;  and  therefore,  if  single  life  hath 
 more  privacy  of  devotion,  yet  marriage 
 hath  more  necessities  and  more  varieties 
 of  it,  and  is  an  exercise  of  more  graces. 
 .  .  .  .  Marriage  is  the  nursery  of 
 heaven  ;  the  virgin  sends  prayers  to  God, 
 tut  she  carries  but  one  soul  to  Him  ;  but 
 the  state  of  marriage  fills  up  the  numbers 
 of  the  elect,  and  hath  in  it  the  labour  of 
 love,  and  the  delicacies  of  friendshi]),  the 
 blessing  of  society,  and  the  union  of  hamls 
 and  hearts ;  it  hath  in  it  less  of  beauty 
 but  more  of  safety,  than  the  single  life  ; 
 it  hath  more  care  but  less  danger ;  it  is 
 more  merry  and  more  sad ;  is  fuller  of 
 sorrows  and  fuller  of  joys ;  it  lies  uuder 
 more  burdens,  but  is  supported  by  all  the 
 strengths  of  love  and  charity,  and  those 
 burdens  are  delightful.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 MAERIAGE— Choice  in. 
 
 AYhen  Themistocles  was  to  marry  his 
 daughter,  there  wei'e  two  suitors,  the  one 
 rich  and  a  fool,  and  the  other  wise  but  not 
 rich ;  and  being  asked  which  of  the  two 
 lie  had  rather  his  daughter  should  have, 
 he  answered,  I  had  rather  she  should 
 marry  a  man  without  money,  than  money 
 without  a  man.  The  best  of  marriages  is 
 in  the  man  or  the  woman,  not  in  the  means 
 or  the  money,  Venning. 
 
 BIAEEIAGE— Second. 
 
 Were  a  man  not  to  many  a  second  time, 
 it  might  be  concluded  that  his  first  wife 
 had  given  him  a  disgust  to  marriage  ;  but 
 by  taking  a  second  wife,  he  pays  the 
 highest  compliment  to  the  first,  by  showing 
 that  she  made  him  so  happy  as  a  married 
 man,  that  he  wishes  to  be  so  a  second  time. 
 Dr.  Johnson. 
 MAEEIAGE— Typified. 
 
 God  has  set  the  type  of  marriage  before 
 us  throughout  all  creation.  Each  creature 
 seeks  its  perfection  through  being  blent 
 •with  another.  The  very  heaven  and  earth 
 picture  it  to  us,  for  does  not  the  sky 
 embrace  the  green  earth  as  its  bride  ? 
 Precious,  excellent,  glorious,  is  that  word 
 of  the  Holy  Ghost,  "the  heart  of  the 
 husband  doth  safely  trust  in  her." 
 
 Luther. 
 MAEEIAGE— Union  in. 
 
 That  is  the  great  blessing  of  marriage, 
 that  it  delivers  us  from  the  tyranny  of 
 Mmm  and  T%nim.  Converting  each  into 
 the  other,  it  endears  them  both,  and  turns 
 a  slavish,  deadening  drudgery  into  a  free 
 and  joyous  service.  And  by  bringing 
 home  to  every  one's  heart,  that  he  is  some- 
 thing better  than  a  mere  self,  that  he  is 
 the  part  of  a  higher  and  more  precious 
 whole,  it  becomes  a  type  of  the  union 
 between  the  Church  and  her  Lord.     Hare. 
 
 MAEEIAGE— Voluntary. 
 For  marriage  is  a  matter  of  more  worth 
 Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyshi]) ; 
 For  what  is  wedlock  forced  but  a  hell, 
 An  age  of  discord  and  continual  stiife  ; 
 Whereas  the  contrary  bringeth  forth  happi- 
 ness. 
 And  is  a  pattern  of  celestial  bliss. 
 
 SliakesiKure. 
 
 MAEEIAGE— with  a  "Wife's  Sister. 
 
 I  admit  that  marriage  with  a  wife's  sister 
 is  not  forbidden  in  Leviticus. 
 
 Bp.  of  Lincoln. 
 
 I  have  no  doubt  that,  according  to 
 Lev.  xviii.  18,  marriage  with  a  deceased 
 wife's  sister  is  permitted.  Dr.  MCaul. 
 
 From  all  that  I  have  been  able  to  learn 
 on  the  question,  "Whether  a  man  may 
 marry  a  deceased  wife's  sister,"  my  opinion 
 is.  that  neither  does  Holj'  Scrijiture  any- 
 where forbid  it,  nor  ever  did  the  Jews. 
 
 Dr.  Lee. 
 
 The   prohibition,    in   verse   18,   is  only 
 
 against  marrying  a  wife's  sister  during  the 
 
 life  of  the  first  wife,  which  of  itself  implies  a 
 
 liberty  to  marry  the  sister  after  her  death. 
 
 Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 There  was  no  prohibition  of  marrying 
 the  wife's  sister,  excepting  during  the  life- 
 time of  the  wife.         ~  Prof.  Robinson. 
 
 The  meaning  of  the  precept  is,  that  no 
 man  shoitld  marry  his  wife's  sister  while 
 that  wife  is  living.  Bp.  Patrick. 
 
 I  express  my  conviction  that  Scripture 
 says  not  one  word  against  marriage  with  a 
 deceased  wife's  sister.  Surely  it  is  not  a 
 crime,  and  if  it  be  not,  the  law  that  con- 
 stitutes it  so,  must  be,  for  the  worst  of  all 
 crimes,  an  evil  and  unjust  law. 
 
 Gilfillan. 
 
 MAEEIAGE  AND  CELIBACY. 
 
 Marriage  is  the  mother  of  the  world, 
 and  preserves  kingdoms,  and  fills  cities  and 
 churches,  and  heaven  itself.  Celibate,  like 
 the  fly  in  the  heart  of  an  apple,  dwells  in 
 a  perpetual  sweetness,  but  sits  alone,  and 
 is  confined  and  dies  in  singularity ;  but 
 marriage,  like  the  ustful  bee,  builds  a 
 house  and  gathers  sweetness  from  every 
 flower,  and  labours  and  unites  into  socie- 
 ties and  republics,  and  sends  out  colonies, 
 and  feeds  the  world  with  delicacies,  and 
 obeys  their  king  and  keeps  order,  and 
 exercises  many  virtues,  and  promotes  the 
 interest  of  mankind,  and  is  that  state  of 
 good  things  to  which  God  hath  designed 
 the   present    constitution    of   the    world. 
 
576 
 
 M  ARRI  AGES— MASTERS. 
 
 Single  life  ma1?es  man,  in  one  instance,  to 
 lie  like  angels,  but  marriage  in  very  many 
 things  makes  the  chaste  pair  to  be  like 
 Christ.  "This  is  a  great  mystery,"  but  it 
 is  the  symbolical  and  sacramental  repre- 
 sentation of  the  greatest  mysteries  of  our 
 religion.  Christ  descended  from  His  Fa- 
 ther's bosom,  and  contracted  His  divinity 
 with  flesh  and  blood,  and  married  our  na- 
 ture, and  we  became  a  church,  the  spouse 
 of  the  Bridegroom,  which  He  cleansed 
 with  His  blood,  and  gave  her  His  Holy 
 Spirit  for  a  dowry,  and  heaven  for  a  join- 
 ture ;  begetting  children  unto  God  by  the 
 Gospel.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 MARRIAGES— Unequal. 
 
 Alas !  how  frequently  does  the  dear 
 partner,  who  should  be  the  counsellor  and 
 favourer  of  everything  good  and  virtuous, 
 prove  a  tempter  and  a  seducer !  How 
 many  have  given  up  their  principles  to 
 please  their  wives !  This  thought  surely 
 should  engage  the  attention  of  our  younger 
 readers.  Your  future  character  and  con- 
 duct, perhaps  your  eternal  state,  may 
 depend  on  your  choice  of  the  companion 
 to  whom  you  are  to  be  united  for  life. 
 Beware,  lest  a  regard  to  worldly  prospects, 
 your  ill-directed  fancy,  or  the  solicitations 
 of  your  lust,  draw  you  into  such  connections 
 as  may,  in  the  issue,  be  fatal  to  your  souls. 
 Suppose  not,  that  you  can  withstand  every 
 enticement  to  evil,  wliile  you  see  how 
 many  have  been  overcome.  Nor  imagine 
 that  you  shall  convert  her  to  the  cause  of 
 truth,  who  is  yet  an  enemy  to  it,  but 
 rather  fear,  lest  your  own  mind  should  be 
 more  and  more  corrupted.  For  how  can 
 you  expect  the  blessing  of  God,  if  you  act 
 in  contradiction  to  His  will  and  command  ? 
 Is  it  less  dangerous  for  j^ou  than  it  was 
 for  the  Jews  of  old,  to  be  thus  joined  with 
 unbelievers?  Or  is  your  religion  of  less 
 value  than  theirs,  that  you  are  not  so 
 much  concerned  to  maintain  it  ? 
 
 T.  Robinson. 
 MARRIAGES— Unhappy. 
 
 At  the  close  of  a  sermon  lately  preached 
 from  Numb.  x.  29,  the  venerable  preacher 
 related  the  following  solemn  incident : — 
 A  young  gentleman  who  had  for  some  time 
 been  journeying  from  Egypt  towards  the 
 promised  land,  and  who  had  been  useful  to 
 his  fellow-travellers,  became  acquainted 
 with  a  very  handsome  young  lady,  much 
 addicted  to  the  pleasures  derived  from 
 worldly  amusements.  He  sought  advice 
 from  some  of  his  fellow-Christians,  who  said 
 all  they  could  to  dissuade  him  from  marry- 
 ing her,  lest  he  might  thereby  sustain  in- 
 jury. He  replied,  he  hoped,  if  he  took  her 
 as  his  wife,  he  might  be  the  means  of  her 
 conveision.  They  were  married  ;  and  in  a 
 short  time  he  yielded  to  her  ways,  and  went 
 
 with  her  to  balls,  the  theatre,  and  sucTj 
 places.  He  was  shortly  after  afflicted,  and 
 in  his  extremity  sent  for  two  of  his  former 
 associates,  who  prayed  with  him.  God 
 heard  their* prayers  and  restored  him  to 
 health.  Again  he  yielded  to  temptation — 
 was  again  afflicted  :  again  he  sent  for  his 
 pious  friends,  who  earnestly  besought  the 
 Lord  to  raise  him  to  health.  He  heard 
 their  prayers.  Once  more  he  went  intu 
 the  ways  of  the  ungodly — once  more  afflic- 
 tion's heavy  hand  was  laid  upon  him,  and 
 once  moi'e  his  praying  friends  surrounded 
 his  bed.  This  time,  however,  the  heavens 
 seemed  as  brass  to  their  supplications ; 
 and  they  left  him  in  a  deplorable  state  of 
 mind.  Shortly  after  they  were  gone,  he 
 called  the  servant  and  requeste<^l  her  to 
 bring  him  a  large  bowl  full  of  clear  water ; 
 she  did  so  ;  he  grasped  it  with  both  hands, 
 and  drank  it  all,  saying,  "That  is  the  last 
 drop  of  water  I  shall  ever  taste  here  or 
 hereafter,"  and  immediately  expired. 
 
 J.  Palmer, 
 
 The  stags  in  the  Greek  epigram,  whose 
 knees  were  clogged  with  frozen  snow  upon 
 the  mountains,  came  down  to  the  brooks 
 of  the  valley,s,  hoping  to  thaw  their  joints 
 with  the  waters  of  the  stream ;  but  there 
 the  frost  overtook  them  and  bound  theni 
 fast  in  ice,  till  the  young  herdsmen  took 
 them  in  their  strange  snare.  It  is  the 
 unhappy  chance  of  some  men,  finding  many 
 inconveniences  upon  the  mountains  of 
 single  life,  they  descend  into  the  valleys  of 
 marriage  to  refresh  their  troubles,  and 
 there  they  enter  into  fetters,  and  are 
 bound  to  sorrow  by  the  cords  of  a  man's 
 or  woman's  peevishness  ;  and  the  worst  of 
 the  evil  is,  they  are  to  thank  their  own 
 follies  ;  for  they  fell  into  the  snare  by  en- 
 tering an  improper  way.  Christ  and  the 
 Church  were  no  ingredients  in  their  choice. 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 MARTYRS— Death  of. 
 The  stars  shall  die  in  glory  ;  highest  song 
 Of  resurrection  rolling  deepening  on 
 From  flaming  orb  to  orb  ;  and  they  shall  fall 
 To  music  measui-eless,  in  the  vast  blaze 
 Of  their  own  burning  splendours ;  at  the 
 
 sweep 
 Of  the  Almighty  Finger  they  shall  drop 
 From  heaven's  high  harp  ;  so  did  the  mar- 
 tyrs die, 
 In  flame,  and  ecstacy,  and  seraph  song. 
 
 Miss  Tatliam. 
 MASTERS— Duties  of. 
 
 1.  The  duties  of  masters  to  the  lodics 
 of  their  servants  consist  in  these  parti- 
 culars, viz.,  in  a  due  provision  of  food 
 (Prov.  xxxi.  15 ;  xxvii.  27) ;  in  a  well 
 ordering  of  their  labour,  so  as  they  may 
 be  able  to  undergo  it ;  their  ease,  rest,  and 
 intermission    from    labour    at    seasonable 
 
MATEIMONY— MEANS  OF  GRACE. 
 
 577 
 
 tLiies;  in  paying  them  sufficient  wages 
 (Dent,  xxiv,  14,  15) :  in  a  careful  pre- 
 serving of  tlieir  health,  and  using  means 
 for  their  recovery  in  case  of  sickness  (Matt. 
 viii,  6);  and  that  not  of  the  servant's 
 wages,  but  of  the  master's  own  charge ; 
 otherwise  they  undo  not  the  heavy  burden, 
 but  rather  lay  burden  upon  burden. 
 
 2.  The  duty  of  masters  to  the  souls  of 
 their  servants  consist  in  these  particulars, 
 viz.,  in  teaching  them  the  principles  of  re- 
 ligion, and  all  duties  of  piety,  in  causing 
 them  to  attend  the  public  ministry  of  the 
 Word  and  worship  of  God;  in  taking  ac- 
 count of  their  profiting  by  the  public  and 
 private  means  of  editicatiou;  in  praying 
 for  them,  and  as  they  observe  any  grace 
 wrought  in  them,  in  praising  God  for  it, 
 and  praying  for  the  increase  of  it. 
 
 Amlrose. 
 MATRIMONY— Celebration  of. 
 
 Christ's  first  pviblic  miracle  graceth  a 
 marriage.  It  is  an  ancient  and  laudable 
 institution,  that  the  rites  of  matrimony 
 should  not  want  a  solemn  celebration. 
 When  are  feasts  in  season,  if  not  at  the 
 recovery  of  our  lost  rib ;  if  not  at  this  main 
 change  of  our  estate,  wherein  the  joy  of 
 obtaining  meets  with  the  hope  of  further 
 comforts  ?  B^.  Hall. 
 
 He  that  made  the  first  marriage  in  para- 
 dise, bestows  His  first  miracle  upon  a 
 Galilean  marriage.  He  that  was  the 
 Author  of  matrimony  and  sanctifieth  it, 
 doth,  by  His  holy  presence,  honour  the  re- 
 semblance of  His  eternal  union  with  His 
 Church.  Ibid. 
 
 MEANS— without  God. 
 
 Asa  was  sick  but  of  his  feet,  far  from 
 the  heart  j  yet  because  he  sought  to  the 
 physicians,  not  to  God,  he  escaped  not. 
 Hezekiah  was  sick  to  die ;  yet  because  he 
 trusted  to  God,  not  to  physicians,  he  was 
 restored.  Means,  without  God,  cannot 
 help;  God,  without  means  can,  and  often 
 doth.  I  will  use  good  means,  not  rest  in 
 them.  Ibid. 
 
 MEANS— Ineffectual. 
 
 Then  the  Shepherds  led  the  pilgrims  to 
 a  place  where  they  saw  one  Fool  and  one 
 Want-wit  washing  an  Ethiopian,  with  an 
 intention  to  make  him  white;  but  the 
 more  they  washed  him  the  blacker  he  was. 
 Then  they  asked  the  Shepherds  what  this 
 should  mean  ?  So  they  told  them,  saying, 
 Thus  it  is  with  the  vile  person ;  all  means 
 used  to  get  such  a  one  a  good  name  shall 
 in  conclusion  tend  but  to  make  him  more 
 abominable.  Thus  it  was  with  the  Phari- 
 sees, and  so  it  shall  be  with  all  hypocrites. 
 Bunyan. 
 
 MEANS— without  the  Spirit. 
 
 All  means  which  the  Church  may  use 
 for  the  salvation  of  man  without  the  .-pirit 
 in  them,  are  like  a  body  without  life;  like 
 a  locomotive  without  steam  ;  like  a  watch 
 without  a  main-spring;  like  an  organ 
 without  air ;  like  nature  without  the  life- 
 giving  power  of  the  sun.  However  beau- 
 tiful, unique,  antiquated,  united,  extensive, 
 wealthy,  intellectual;  however  patronised 
 and  supported  by  the  wise,  the  great,  and 
 the  good,  if  the  Spirit  is  absent  from  them 
 they  will  fail  to  accomplish  the  end  de- 
 sired. John  Bate. 
 
 MEANS— Useful. 
 
 Ariston  said,  that  neither  a  bath  nor  an 
 oration  doth  any  good,  unless  it  purify, 
 the  one  the  skin,  the  other  the  heart. 
 That  is  good  which  doth  good.        Venning. 
 
 MEANS  OF  GRACE— Chief. 
 
 The  chief  of  tliese  means  are  prayer, 
 whether  in  secret  or  the  great  congrega- 
 tion ;  searching  the  Scriptures,  which  im- 
 plies hearing,  reading,  and  medicating 
 thereon;  and  receiving  the  Lord's  Supper, 
 eating  bread  and  drinking  wine  in  remem- 
 brance of  Him  :  and  these  we  believe  to  be 
 ordained  of  God,  as  the  ordinary  channels 
 of  conveying  His  grace  to  the  souls  of  men. 
 J.  Wcsleg. 
 
 MEANS  OF  GRACE— Definition  of. 
 
 By  means  of  grace,  I  understand  out- 
 ward signs,  words,  or  actions,  ordained  of 
 God,  and  appointed  for  this  end  to  be  the 
 ordinary  channels  whereby  He  might  con- 
 vey to  men,  preventing,  justifying,  sancti- 
 fying grace.  Ibid. 
 
 MEANS  OF  GRACE— when  Profitable. 
 
 We  allow,  likewise,  that  all  outward 
 means  whatever,  if  separate  from  the 
 Spirit  of  God,  cannot  profit  at  all,  cannot 
 conduce  in  any  degree  either  to  the  know- 
 ledge or  love  of  God.  Without  contro- 
 versy, the  help  that  is  done  upon  earth, 
 He  doth  it  Himself.  It  is  He  alone,  who, 
 by  His  own  almighty  power,  worketh  in 
 us  what  is  pleasing  in  His  sight.  And  all 
 outward  things,  unless  He  work  in  them, 
 and  by  them,  are  mere  weak  and  beggarly 
 elements.  Whosoever,  therefore,  imagines 
 there  is  any  intrinsic  power  by  any  means 
 whatever,  does  greatly  err,  not  knowing 
 the  Scriptures,  neither  the  power  of  God. 
 We  know  that  there  is  no  inherent  power 
 in  the  words  that  are  spoken  in  prayer,  in 
 the  letter  of  Scripture  read,  the  sound 
 thereof  heard,  or  the  bread  and  wine 
 received  in  the  Lord's  Supper;  hut  that  it 
 is  God  alone  who  is  the  Giver  of  every 
 good  gift,  the  Autlior  of  all  grace ;  that  the 
 whole  power  is  of  Him,  wherebv  tlirough 
 37 
 
578 
 
 MEANS  OF  GRACE— MEDIATION  OF  CHEIST. 
 
 any  of  these  there  is  any  blessing  conveyed 
 to  our  souls.  We  know,  likewise,  that  He 
 is  able  to  give  the  same  grace,  though 
 there  were  no  means  on  the  face  of  the 
 earth.  In  this  sense  we  may  affirm,  that 
 "with  regard  to  God,  there  is  no  such 
 thing  as  means;  seeing  He  is  equally  able 
 to  work  whatsoever  pleaseth  Him,  by  any 
 one,  or  by  none  at  all."  J.  Wesley. 
 
 MEANS  OF  GRACE— Value  of  the. 
 
 But  we  allow,  that  the  whole  value  of 
 the  means  depends  on  their  actual  subser- 
 vience to  the  ends  of  religion;  that,  con- 
 sequently, all  these  means,  when  separate 
 from  the  end,  are  less  than  nothing  and 
 vanity ;  that  if  they  do  not  actually  con- 
 duce to  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God, 
 they  are  not  acceptable  in  His  sight.:  yea, 
 rather,  they  are  an  abomination  before 
 Him  ;  a  stink  in  His  nostrils, — He  is  weary 
 to  bear  them.  Above  all,  if  they  are  used 
 as  a  kind  of  commutation  for  the  religion 
 they  were  designed  to  subserve,  it  is  not 
 easy  to  find  words  for  the  enormous  folly 
 and  wickedness  of  thus  turning  God's  arms 
 against  Himself;  of  keeping  Christianity 
 out  of  the  heart,  by  those  very  means  which 
 were  ordained  for  the  bringing  it  in. 
 
 Hid. 
 MEDIATION— in  Physical  Evils. 
 
 Physical  evils  are  constantly  alleviated 
 or  eradicated  by  some  mediatorial  process. 
 The  bruised  or  wounded  flesh  calls  into 
 play  a  latent  power  of  healing,  in  the  dis- 
 ])ersion  of  unhealthy  humours,  the  for- 
 mation of  lymph,  and  the  filling  up  of  the 
 orifice,  or  the  closing  of  the  wound.  A 
 broken  bone  will  divert  from  the  ordinary 
 currents  of  animal  life  the  phosphate  of 
 lime  which  may  be  necessary  for  its  repa- 
 ration. An  exalation  of  noxious  gasses 
 meets  with  its  mediatorial  corrective  in 
 the  principle  of  gaseous  diffusion,  which 
 dilutes  the  subtle  poison,  and  spreads  it 
 over  so  wide  an  area,  as  to  render  it  com- 
 paratively baneless.  When  vegetation  is 
 parched  and  witliered,  the  air  becomes  the 
 mediating  agent  which  conveys  to  it  the 
 refreshing  showers.  When  opposing  forces 
 and  the  "negative"  and  the  "positive" 
 hold  apart  in  their  isolation,  conduction 
 becomes  the  mediatorial,  the  combining 
 power,  that  mingles  them  into  one.  And 
 when  a  satellite  or  a  planet  has  deviated 
 widely  from  its  mean  orbital  path,  a  coun- 
 ter attraction  becomes  the  mediator  that 
 preserves  it  under  the  influence  of  its 
 ■pi-imary.  B,agg. 
 
 MEDIATION— Taught  by  Nature. 
 
 The  doctrine  of  mediation  is  no  startling 
 theme.  It  does  not  clash  with  any  of  the 
 phenomena  of  the  universe  around  us.  It 
 is  no  discord  in  Nature's  voice — no  harsh 
 
 or  grating  note  in  her  harmonious  anthem. 
 Its  very  congruity  at  once  with  our  phy- 
 sieal  and  our  moral  nature,  is  sufficient  to 
 render  it  a  priori  probable  that  vve  mighf, 
 meet  with  a  further  development  of  it  in 
 the  higher  department  of  theology.  And 
 when  we  consider  the  concurrent  foct — a 
 fact  self-evident— that  man  is  morally  dis- 
 eased, the  ten  thousand  adaptations  which 
 we  meet  with  in  every  department  of  the 
 physical  universe  might  lead  us,  inevitably, 
 to  the  conclusion,  that  some  such  media- 
 torial influence  would  be  adapted  to  his 
 moral  needs.  How  vain,  then,  are  the 
 objections  of  the  infidel  against  the  doc- 
 trine of  mediation,  whose  actings  are  ob- 
 servable everywhere  around  us,  as  well  as 
 forming  one  of  the  very  foundations  of  the 
 Christian  revelation.  Ibid. 
 
 MEDIATION— Taught  by  Private  Life. 
 
 The  principle  follows  us  into  the  minutest 
 details  of  private  life.  What  is  he,  who, 
 in  the  hour  of  danger,  interposes  with  his 
 strong  arm  for  the  protection  of  the  weak, 
 or  with  his  maturer  wisdom,  for  the  rescue 
 of  the  thoughtless  and  inexperienced,  but 
 a  mediator  between  them  and  peril  ?  What 
 is  she,  who,  with  noiseless  step,  paces  the 
 sick  room,  where  the  once  stalwart  man  is 
 laid  prostrate  with  weakness,  watching  his 
 eyes  to  catch  their  language,  that  the  lips 
 may  be  saved  the  necessity  of  speaking — • 
 anticipating  his  every  want  and  desire, 
 smoothing  his  pillow  so  softly  that  his 
 aching  head  is  eased,  and  his  heart  is  recon- 
 ciled to  affliction  by  the  thought  of  the 
 loving  attention  it  awakens— what  is  she 
 but  a  mediatrix  between  him  and  the  fell 
 disease  with  which  he  is  grappling  ?  What 
 is  that  mother,  who,  with  simple  and 
 eloquent  words,  and  tears  more  eloquent, 
 pleads  with  a  sterner  father  for  the  hapless 
 boy  whose  early  sins  had  nearly  caused  his 
 expulsion  from  under  the  parental  roof — 
 what,  but  a  mediatrix  between  him  and 
 the  unknown  evils  that  impended  ?  What 
 is  she,  who,  by  uncomplaining  sighs  and 
 tears,  and  far  more  by  patient,  and  there- 
 fore eloquent  and  silent  endurance,  has 
 weaned  a  degraded  and  besotted  husband 
 from  the  poison-cup  of  intoxication  or  thft 
 maddening  influence  of  the  gaming-house, 
 to  a  love  of  his  own  hearth  and  home,  and 
 the  society  of  those  who  are  bone  of  his 
 bone,  and  flesh  of  his  flesh — what  is  she 
 but  a  mediatrix  between  him  and  ruin  ? 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 MEDIATION  OP  CHRIST— Extent  of  the. 
 Can  we  think  that  the  3Ioral  and  Phy- 
 sical Government  of  God  extends  to  all 
 mankind,  and  not  His  Mediatorial  ?  Surely 
 if  any  man  exist  as  a  subject  of  the  former, 
 he  must  of  the  latter  ?  Is  it  possible  for 
 it  to  be  otherwise  ?     Shall  God  make  man 
 
MEDIATION  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 579 
 
 and  govern  him  as  a  free  agent,  and  hold 
 him  responsible  for  his  actions,  and  not 
 give  him  the  offer  of  the  benefits  of  re- 
 demption which  He  has  provided  in  Christ  ? 
 John  Bate. 
 
 MEDIATION  OF  CHRIST— a  Necessity. 
 
 We  are  so  constituted,  that  benevolent 
 action  is  impossible  with  the  human  mind 
 unless  the  motive  power  which  moves  the 
 will  be  drawn  from  another,  not  from  our- 
 selves. The  man  who  lives  and  acts  in 
 view  of  Christ  is  God-moved ;  that  is,  his 
 soul  is  exercised  by  the  character  of  God 
 manifested  in  Christ  Jesus.  Tlie  man  who 
 has  no  faith  is  self-moved.  His  own  will 
 is  supreme,  and  not  God's  will.  Hence  he 
 is  a  rebel  in  the  moral  government  of  God. 
 When  we  love  another  we  are  willing  to 
 deny  ourselves  in  order  to  conform  to  ttie 
 object  of  our  regard.  This  takes  the 
 motive  out  of  ourselves.  If  the  will  of 
 that  other  is  incarnate  love,  the  soul  moved 
 by  it  becomes  benevolent,  and  the  soul  can 
 become  benevolent  in  no  other  tvai/.  Until 
 this  is  accomplished,  every  act  of  life  is 
 selfish  ;  and  thus  life-action  is  death-action, 
 which  fits  the  soul  for  the  second  death. 
 
 For  Clirist's  sake,  then,  is  only  another 
 expression  for  the  great  truth,  that  all  our 
 holy  motions  and  emotions  are  dependent 
 on  Him.  "  In  Christ's  name"  is  a  recog- 
 nition that  God  is  manifest  in  His  sacrifice 
 for  sin,  and  that  it  is  in  His  mercy  alone 
 that  we  have  hope.  In  all  systems  there 
 are  two  motions  of  subordinate  bodies,  one 
 on  their  own  axis,  the  other  around  the 
 central  orbit;  so  in  the  spiritual  world, 
 the  soul  is  self-moved,  and  the  regenerated 
 soul  moves  likewibe  in  its  orbit  of  depen- 
 dence upon  God.  To  feel  reliance  on  the 
 merit  of  Christ,  to  trust  in  His  name,  is  the 
 expression  of  this  actual  relation.  The 
 man  who  does  not  feel  it,  is  dead. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 MEDIATION  OF  CHRIST— Objects  of  the. 
 A  mediator  is  a  middle  person,  who 
 steps  \n  between  two  parties  where  there 
 has  been  disagreement ;  and  his  work  is  to 
 effect  reconciliation.  Now,  the  objects  of 
 the  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ  are  twofold  : 
 the  first  is  to  bring  God  and  man  together, 
 and  the  second  is  to  keep  them  so.  Man 
 has  revolted  from  his  Maker ;  he  has  cast 
 off  his  allegiance,  and  become  a  rebel 
 against  the  thi-one  'and  government  of 
 God.  How  can  reconciliation  be  effected  ? 
 There  is  but  one  way  ;  and  that  is,  not 
 by  the  teaching  of  Christ  merely,  nor 
 by  His  example  merely,  but  we  are  re- 
 conciled to  God  "  by  the  death  of  His  Son." 
 Dr.  R.  Newton. 
 
 MEDIATION  OF  CHRIST— Rational. 
 
 We  say  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  mediation 
 
 is  a  truth  which  commends  itself  to  the 
 reason,  as  it  does  to  the  moral  wants  of 
 men.  All  spirit,  so  far  as  we  know,  affects 
 other  spirits,  through  organization.  We 
 do  not  know  but  what  Christ  is  the  medium 
 (if  we  may  so  speak)  by  which  God  comes 
 in  contact  with  matter.  We  know  that 
 He  is  the  medium  by  which  God  unites 
 Himself  with  humanity.  "Tliere  is  one 
 God  and  one  Mediator  between  God  and 
 man — the  Man  Christ  Jesus."  The  human 
 soul  operates  through  corporeal  media 
 upon  other  minds,  and  upon  matter  it 
 operates  through  more  remote  instrumen- 
 talities. Media  of  communication  bet\\'een 
 inferior  and  superior  is  the  order  of  nature. 
 Is  not  the  Divine  Mediator  in  this  order  ? 
 or  does  Giid  contravene  the  order  He  has 
 Himself  established  ? 
 
 It  is  a  law  of  creation  that  substances 
 as  well  as  spirits  come  together  by  affinity. 
 If  matter  or  spirit  of  different  affinities 
 ever  be  united,  a  new  medium,  or  solvent, 
 must  be  found  by  which  the  diverse  quali- 
 ties may  be  reconciled  or  harmonised. 
 
 The  revealed  Christ  is  the  Mediator  in 
 the  order  of  nature,  and  in  the  ordi nation 
 of  grace.  God,  by  the  medlatiori  of  Christ, 
 unites  Himself  with  our  earthly  and  im- 
 perfect nature,  and  by  faith  the  soul  is 
 transformed  from  a  lower  to  a  celestial 
 species.  On  one  side,  the  Divinity — God — ■ 
 comes  in.  On  the  other,  the  humanity — 
 man — comes  in;  so  tliat  God  and  man  are 
 reconciled  in  Christ.  "  God  was  in  Christ 
 reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 MEDIATION  OF  CHRIST— Scriptural. 
 
 It  is  one  of  the  most  explicit  commands 
 of  Christ,  that  after  His  sacrifice  and  as- 
 cension His  disciples  should  always  make 
 their  supplications  in  His  name  (John  xvi, 
 22—27).  "And  in  that  day  ye  shall  ask 
 me  nothing.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
 you,  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the  Father  in 
 My  name,  he  will  give  it  to  you  [chap,  xiv, 
 13,  'I  will  do  it'].  Hitherto  ye  have 
 asked  nothing  in  My  name.  Ask,  and  ye 
 shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full." 
 "At  that  day  ye  shall  ask  in  My  name,  and 
 I  say  not  unto  you  that  I  will  pray  the 
 Father  for  you,  for  the  Father  Himself 
 loveth  you  because  ye  have  loved  Me,  and 
 have  believed  that  I  came  out  from  God." 
 
 In  accordance  with  this  command  is 
 the  practice  of  the  Apostles  and  of  the 
 Church  of  Christ  in  all  ages.  Ibid. 
 
 It  was  by  Mediation  that  Abel,  Noah, 
 Abraham,  Moses,  &c.,  came  to  God.  The 
 grand  idea  of  the  Jewish  religion  was  that 
 of  Mediation — the  high  priests,  priests, 
 sacrifices,  &c.  These  were  types  of  the 
 mediation  of  Christ.  Almost  one  entire 
 book  of  the  New  Testament,  the  Epistle  to 
 
580 
 
 MEDIATOR— MEDITATION. 
 
 the  Hebrews,  is  taken  up  in  the  statement, 
 explanation,  and  enforcement  of  this  glo- 
 rious truth.  It  is  repeatedly  referred  to 
 in  other  portions  of  Scripture.  Nearly 
 every  epistle  begins  and  closes  with  the 
 idea  ol  it.  Repentance,  justification,  holi- 
 ness, heaven,  answers  to  prayer,  are 
 stated  lis  communicated  through  our  Lord 
 Jesus  Christ.  To  reject  this  truth,  is  vir- 
 tually to  reject  the  whole  Bible,  as  a  book 
 of  saivatiou.  John  Bate. 
 
 MEDIATOR— Christ  a. 
 
 The  pillar  of  cloud  was  great  refresh- 
 ment to  the  children  of  Israel  by  day, 
 during  their  long  journey  in  the  wilderness, 
 the  sun  in  those  countries  shining  very 
 hot,  which  might,  had  it  not  been  for  this 
 cloudy  pillar,  have  been  very  destructive 
 or  grievous  to  them,  during  so  many  years' 
 travels.  So  Jesus  Christ  as  Mediator  is  a 
 cloud  or  screen  between  the  hot  beams  of 
 God's  wrath  and  poor  believers.  It  is  He 
 who  keeps  us  from  being  consumed  by  the 
 ■wrath  of  Him,  who  is  to  the  wicked  "  a 
 consuming  tire." 
 
 It  was  a  fire  and  a  cloud,  yet  both  but 
 one  pillar;  so  Christ  is  God  and  man,  and 
 yet  but  one  person ;  and  the  same  Christ, 
 who  is  a  Saviour  to  the  truly  penitent,  will 
 destroy  all  ungodly  and  impenitent  ones. 
 
 Keach.  [ 
 
 We  have  our  Jesus,  as  the  Jews  had 
 their  Moses;  both  of  them  mediators  to 
 stand  between  God  and  the  people.  The 
 Hebrews  were  not  permitted  to  draw  near 
 to  God  to  treat  for  themselves  on  pain  of 
 death;  but  Moses  was  to  be  between  them, 
 as  Christ  is  now  betwixt  us  and  God,  and 
 no  man  can  come  to  the  Father,  but  by 
 Him ;  and  in  His  blood  we  have  remission, 
 as  all  things  were  purified  under  the  law, 
 end  nothing  accepted  or  sanctified  without 
 the  blood  of  sprinkling;  which  speaketh 
 better  things  than  tiiat  of  Abel ;  for  the 
 blood  of  Abel  cried  for  vengeance,  this  for 
 mercy  and  pardon.  W.  Jo)ies. 
 
 MEDITATION— Benefit  of. 
 
 It  is  not  the  number  of  books  you  read, 
 nor  the  variety  of  sermons  which  you  liear, 
 nor  the  amount  of  religious  conversation  in 
 which  you  mix ;  but  it  is  the  frequency  and 
 the  earnestness  with  which  you  meditate  on 
 these  things,  till  the  truth  which  may  be 
 in  them  becomes  your  own,  and  part  of 
 your  own  being,  that  ensures  your  spiritual 
 growth.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 MEDITATION— Definition  of. 
 
 Meditation  is  partly  a  passive,  partly  an 
 active  state.  Whoever  has  pondered  long 
 over  a  plan  which  he  is  anxious  to  accom- 
 plish, without  distinctly  seeing  at  first  the 
 way,  knows  what  meditation  is.     The  sub- 
 
 ject itself  presents  itself  in  leisure  mo- 
 ments spontaneously ;  but  then  all  this 
 sets  the  mind  at  work — contriving,  ima- 
 gining, rejecting,  modifying.  It  is  in  this 
 way  that  one  of  the  greatest  of  English 
 engineers,  a  man  uncouth  and  unaccus- 
 tomed to  regular  discipline  of  mind,  is  said 
 to  have  accomplished  his  most  marvellous 
 triumphs.  He  threw  bridges  over  almost 
 impracticable  torrents,  and  pierced  the 
 eternal  mountains  for  his  viaducts.  Some 
 times  a  difficulty  brought  all  the  work  to 
 a  pause ;  then  he  would  shut  himself  up 
 in  his  room,  eat  nothing,  speak  to  no  one, 
 abandon  himself  intensely  to  the  contem- 
 plation of  that  on  which  his  heart  was  set; 
 and  at  the  end  of  two  or  three  days,  would 
 come  forth  serene  and  calm,  walk  to  the 
 spot,  and  quietly  give  orders  which  seemed 
 the  result  of  superhuman  intuition.  This 
 was  meditation.  Ibid, 
 
 MEDITATION— FaiHng  in. 
 
 In  meditation,  those  who  begin  heavenly 
 thoughts  and  prosecute  them  not  are  like 
 those  which  kindle  a  fire  under  green  wood, 
 and  leave  it  so  soon  as  it  begins  to  flume. 
 £p.  Sail. 
 MEDITATION— Nature  of. 
 
 The  naturalists  observe  that  to  uphold 
 ^nd  accommodate  bodily  life,  there  are 
 divers  sorts  of  facrJties  communicated,  and 
 these  among  the  r«st : — 1.  An  attractive 
 faculty,  to  assure  and  draw  in  the  food; 
 2.  A  retentive  faculty,  to  retain  it  when 
 taken  in ;  3.  A>i  assimilating  faculty,  to 
 concoct  the  nc'.rishment;  4.  An  augment- 
 ing faculty,  for  drawing  to  perfection. 
 Meditation  is  all  these.  It  helps  judgment, 
 wisdom  and  faith  to  ponder,  discern,  and 
 credit  the  things  which  reading  and  hearing 
 supply  and  furnish.  It  assists  the  memory 
 to  lock  up  the  jewels  of  divine  truth  in 
 her  sure  treasury.  It  has  a  digesting 
 power,  and  turns  spiritual  truth  into 
 spiritual  nourishment ;  and  lastly,  it  helps 
 the  renewed  heart  to  grow  upward  and 
 increase  its  power  to  know  the  things 
 which  are  freely  given  to  us  of  God. 
 
 Ranew, 
 MEDITATION— Power  of. 
 
 It  is  in  the  power  of  meditation  to 
 bring  danger  in  its  reality  so  vividly  be- 
 fore the  imagination,  that  the  whole  frame 
 can  start  instinctively  as  if  the  blow  were 
 falling,  or  as  if  the  precipice  were  near. 
 It  is  in  the  power  of  meditation  so  to  en- 
 grave scenes  of  loveliness  on  a  painter's 
 eye,  that  he  transfers  to  the  canvass  a  vivid 
 picture  that  was  real  to  him  before  it  was 
 real  to  others.  It  is  in  the  power  of  me- 
 ditation so  to  abstract  the  soul  from  all 
 that  is  passing  before  the  bodily  eye,  that 
 the  tongue  shall  absently  speak  out  the 
 
MEDITATION— MEEEHESS. 
 
 581 
 
 words  with  which  the  heart  was  full,  not 
 knowing  that  others  are  standing  b}'. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 MEDITATION— in  Silence. 
 
 Meditation  is  done  in  silence.  By  it  we 
 renounce  our  narrow  individuality,  and 
 expatiate  into  that  which  is  infinite.  Only 
 in  the  sacredness  of  inward  silence  does 
 the  soul  truly  meet  the  secret  hiding  God. 
 The  strength  of  resolve  which  afterwards 
 sha]ies  life  and  mixes  itself  with  action, 
 is  the  fruit  of  those  sacred,  solitary  mo- 
 ments. There  is  a  Divine  depth  in  silence. 
 We  meet  God  alone.  Ibid. 
 
 MEDITATION  AND  PRATEE. 
 
 ]\Ieditation  is  prayer's  handmaid,  to 
 wait  on  it,  both  before  and  after  the  per- 
 formance. It  is  as  the  plough  before  the 
 sower,  to  prepare  the  heart  for  the  duty  of 
 prayer,  and  the  harrow  to  cover  the  seed, 
 when  'tis  sown.  As  the  hopper  feeds  the 
 mill  with  grist,  so  does  meditation  supply 
 the  heart  with  matter  for  prayer. 
 
 Gurnall. 
 
 Meditation  and  prayer  are  like  the  spies 
 that  went  to  search  the  land  of  Canaan; 
 the  one  views,  and  the  other  cuts  down ; 
 and  both  bring  home  a  taste  of  the  fivirest 
 and  sweetest  fruits  of  heaven.  Meditation, 
 like  the  eye,  views  our  mercies;  and 
 prayer,  like  the  hand,  reacheth  in  those 
 mercies;  or,  meditation  is  like  a  factor, 
 who  liveth  abroad  to  gather  in  what  we 
 want,  and  prayer  like  a  ship,  goeth  forth 
 and  brings  in  what  we  desire.  Anon. 
 
 MEDITATION  AND  REVERIE. 
 
 Now  meditation  is  often  confounded 
 with  something  which  only  partially  re- 
 sembles it.  Sometimes  we  sit  in  a  kind  of 
 day-dream,  the  mind  expatiating  far  away 
 into  vacancy,  whilst  minutes  and  hours 
 slip  by,  almost  unmarked,  in  mere  vacuity. 
 This  is  not  meditation,  but  reverie, — a 
 state  to  which  the  soul  resigns  itself  in 
 pure  passivity.  When  the  soul  is  absent 
 and  dreaming,  let  no  man  think  that  that 
 is  spiritual  meditation,  or  anything  that  is 
 spiritual.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 MEEK— Blessing  of  the. 
 
 It  is  in  the  lowly  valley  that  the  sun's 
 •warmth  is  truly  genial;  unless,  indeed, 
 there  are  mountains  so  close  and  abrupt  as 
 to  overshadow  it.  Then  noisome  vapours 
 may  be  bred  there :  but  otherwise  in  the 
 valley  may  we  behold  the  meaning  of  the 
 wonderful  blessing  bestowed  upon  the 
 meek,  that  they  shall  inherit  the  earth. 
 It  is  theirs  for  this  very  reason,  because 
 they  do  not  seek  it.  Tiiey  do  not  exalt 
 their  heads  like  icebergs,  which  by-the-bye 
 are  driven  away  from  earth,  and  cluster,  or 
 
 rather  jostle,  around  the  pole;  but  they 
 flow  along  the  earth  humbly  and  silently ; 
 and  wherever  they  flow,  they  bless  it ;  and 
 so  all  its  beauty  and  all  its  richness  is  re- 
 flected in  their  pure,  calm,  peaceful  bosoms. 
 Mare. 
 MEEKNESS— Advantage  of. 
 
 As  you  often  see  the  crow  perched  on 
 the  sheep's  back  taking  advantage  of  its 
 quiet  spirit  to  rob  it  of  its  wool;  so  you 
 will  often  find  that  the  covetous  worldling 
 avails  himself  of  the  meekness  of  the 
 Christian  to  carry  out  his  selfish  design, 
 and  rob  him  of  his  substance.    John  Bate. 
 
 MEEKNESS— Definition  of. 
 
 Meekness  is  a  mild  and  placid  disposi- 
 tion of  mind,  which  subdues  and  restrains 
 our  angry  passions ;  which  gives  sweetness 
 to  our  tempers,  dignity  and  kindness  to  our 
 words  and  actions.  Free  from  censorlous- 
 ness,  and  reluctant  to  oftend,  it  is  not 
 easily  ruffled  by  provocation.  It  blends 
 the  harmlessness  of  the  dove  with  the  gen- 
 tleness of  the  lamb ;  it  bears  injury  without 
 resentment,  or  a  disposition  to  revenge. 
 It  covers  the  faults  of  others  with  tlie 
 mantle  of  love,  and  while  it  is  censured  and 
 reviled,  it  remains  undisturbed  as  the  island 
 amid  the  raging  of  the  stormy  waves  around. 
 W.  S.  Elliott. 
 
 MEEKNESS— Description  of. 
 
 Meekness  is  love  at  school, — love  at  the 
 Saviour's  school.  It  is  Christian  lowlihood. 
 It  is  the  disciple  learning  to  know  himself; 
 learning  to  fear,  and  distrust,  and  al)hor 
 himself.  It  is  the  discij^le  practising  the 
 sweet  but  self-emptying  lesson  of  putting 
 on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  finding  all  his 
 righteousness  in  that  righteous  other.  It 
 is  the  disciple  learning  the  defects  of  his 
 own  character,  and  taking  hints  from  hos- 
 tile as  well  as  friendly  monitors.  It  is  the 
 disciple  praying  and  watching  for  the 
 improvement  of  his  talents,  the  mellowing 
 of  his  temper,  and  the  amelioration  of  his 
 character.  It  is  the  loving  Christian  at  the 
 Saviour's  feet,  learning  of  Him  who  is 
 meek  and  lowly,  and  finding  rest  for  his 
 own  soul.  Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 MEEKNESS— Happiness  of. 
 
 A  meek  man  enjoys  almost  a  ferpetual 
 Sabbath.  The  anger  of  a  meek  man  is 
 like  fire  struck  out  of  steel,  hard  to  be  got 
 out,  and  when  got  out  soon  gone.  IMeek- 
 ness  not  only  gives  great  peace  of  mind, 
 but  often  adds  a  lustre  to  the  countenance. 
 We  only  read  of  three  in  Scripture  whose 
 faces  shone  remarkably,  viz.,  Christ,  Moses, 
 and  Stephen,  and  they  were  eminent  for 
 meekness.  M.  Henry 
 
 MEEKNESS— Power  of. 
 
 One  day,  as  he  strolled  along  a  river 
 
MEEKNESS  IN  CHRIST— MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Gotthold  came  to  a  straight  and  stately 
 alder  tree,  growing  upon  the  bank,  and  said 
 to  himself:  This  kind  of  timber  is  the 
 softest,  and  can  without  difficulty  be  split, 
 cut  and  wrousrht :  and  yet  experience 
 proves  that  it  does  not  rot  in  water.  In 
 fact,  the  greater  part  of  the  city  of  Venice 
 stands  upon  piles  of  alder,  which,  sunk  in 
 the  sea,  forms  the  foundation  of  the  great 
 and  massive  buildings. 
 
 It  is  the  same  with  the  meek  hearts. 
 There  is  no  better  basis  for  important  un- 
 dertakings of  public  or  private  utility,  than 
 that  intelligent  modesty,  which  is  gentle, 
 indeed,  and  ready  to  yield  as  far  as  a  good 
 conscience  will  allow,  but  which  neverthe- 
 less lasts  and  continues  stable  in  the  flood 
 of  contradiction. 
 
 Lord  Jesus,  Thou  wert  meek  and  humble 
 in  heart,  and  ou  Thy  love  and  meekness  the 
 fabric  of  our  salvation  was  founded  and  still 
 subsists.  Wert  Thou  not  meek  and  patient, 
 how  could  any  of  us  be  saved  ?  Give  to  me 
 a  meek  and  loving  heart,  and  let  this  be 
 the  foundation  of  all  uiy  intercourse  with 
 men.  Gutthold. 
 
 MEEKNESS  IN  CHBIST. 
 
 Remember  Christ  in  the  judgment-hall, 
 the  very  symbol  and  incarnation  of  spiritual 
 strength;  and  yet  when  reviliiigs  were 
 loud  around  Him  and  charges  multiplied, 
 "  He  held  His  peace."       F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 MEEKNESS  IN  THREATENED  DANGER. 
 The  Pastor  Oberlin,  having  received 
 warning  that  some  uncivilised  and  brutal 
 persons  in  his  parish  had  Ibrmed  a  plan  for 
 waylaying  and  inHicting  upon  liim  "  a 
 severe  castigation,"  took  for  his  text  in 
 church,  on  the  Sunday  when  he  had  been 
 told  the  outrage  was  to  be  perpetrated, 
 these  words  of  our  Saviour :  "  But  I  say 
 unto  you,  that  ye  resist  not  evil :  but  who- 
 soever shall  smite  thee  ou  the  right  cheek, 
 turn  to  him  the  other  also ;"  and  proceeded 
 from  these  words  to  speak  of  the  Christian 
 patience  with  which  we  should  suii'er  in- 
 juries, and  submit  to  false  surmises  and  ill- 
 usage.  After  the  service,  the  malcontents 
 met  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  party  to 
 amuse  themselves  in  conjecturing  wh;it 
 their  pastor  would  do,  when  he  should  find 
 himself  compelled  to  put  in  practice  the 
 principles  he  had  so  readily  explained. 
 What,  then,  must  have  been  their  astonish- 
 ment when  the  door  opened,  and  Oberlin 
 himself  stood  before  them  ?  "  Here  I  am, 
 my  friends,"  said  he,  with  that  calm  dig- 
 nity of  manner  which  inspires  even  the  most 
 violent  with  respect,  "  I  am  acquainted 
 with  your  design ;  you  have  wished  to  chas- 
 tise me,  because  you  consider  me  culpable. 
 If  I  have  indeed  violated  the  rules  which 
 I  have  laid  down  for  you,  punish  me  for  it. 
 It  is  better  that  I  should  deliver  myself 
 
 into  your  hands,  than  that  you  should  be 
 guilty  of  the  meanness  of  an  ambuscade." 
 These  simple  words  produced  their  intended 
 effect.  The  peasants,  ashamed  of  their 
 scheme,  sincerely  begged  his  forgiveness, 
 and  promised  never  again  to  entertain  a 
 doubt  of  the  sincerity  of  the  motives  by 
 which  he  was  actual ed,  and  of  his  atl'ec- 
 tionate  desire  to  promote  their  v\'eltare. 
 
 Life  of  Oberlin. 
 
 MEEKNESS  IN  PROVOCATION. 
 
 The  famous  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  a  man 
 of  known  cour.ige  and  honour,  was  on  a 
 certain  occasion  very  injuriously  treated  by 
 a  hot-headed,  rash  youth,  who  even  pro- 
 ceeded to  challenge  him,  and  on  his  refusal 
 spat  upon  him,  and  that  in  public.  The 
 knight,  taking  out  his  handkerchief,  with 
 great  calmness  made  him  this  reply : — 
 "  Young  man,  if  I  could  as  easily  wipe  your 
 blood  from  my  conscience  as  I  can  this  in- 
 jury from  my  face,  I  would  this  moment 
 take  away  your  life."  The  consequence 
 was  that  the  youth  was  so  struck  with  a 
 sudden  and  strong  si-nse  of  his  misbeha- 
 viour, that  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and 
 begged  forgiveness.  Arvine. 
 
 The  celebrated  actor,  Hendei-son,  was 
 seldom  known  to  be  in  a  passion.  When  at 
 Oxford,  he  was  one  day  debating  with  a 
 fellow-student,  who  lost  his  temper,  and 
 threw  a  glass  of  wine  in  Henderson's  face. 
 Mr.  Henderson  took  out  his  handkerchief, 
 wiped  his  face,  and  coolly  said,  "  That,  sir, 
 was  a  digression — now  for  the  argument." 
 Anon. 
 MELANCHOLY— Description  of. 
 
 It  is  not,  as  you  conceive,  an  indisposition 
 Of  body,  but  the  mind's  disease;  so  ecstasy. 
 Fantastic  dotage,  madness,  frenzy,  rapture 
 Of  mere  imagination,  dilfer  partly 
 From  melancholy,  which  is  briefly  this, — 
 A  mere    commotion    of  the  mind,    o'er- 
 
 charged 
 With  fear  and  sorrow;  first  begat  i'  the 
 
 brain, 
 The  seat  of  reason,  and  from  thence  derived 
 As  suddenly  into  the  heart,  the  seat 
 Of  our  affection.  Ford. 
 
 MELANCHOLY— Fancies  of. 
 
 Methinks  I  hear,  meLhinks  I  see 
 Ghosts,  goblins,  fiends  ;  my  phantasy 
 Presents  a  thousand  ugly  shapes — 
 Headless  bears,  black  men,  and  apes. 
 Doleful  outcries,  and  fearful  sights, 
 My  sad  and  dismal  soul  afirights.     Burton. 
 
 MELANCHOLY— Gloom  of. 
 
 Melancholy 
 Sits  on  me  as  a  cloud  along  the  sky. 
 Which  will  not  let  the  sunbeams  through, 
 nor  yet 
 
MELANCHOLY— MEMORI . 
 
 683 
 
 Descend  in    rain,  and  end ;    but  spreads 
 
 itself 
 'Twixt  lieav'n  and  earth,  like  envy  between 
 
 man 
 And  man — and  is  an  everlasting  mist. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 MELANCHOLY— Receipts  against. 
 
 Never  give  way  to  melancholy  ;  resist  it 
 steadily,  for  the  habit  will  encroach.  I 
 once  gave  a  lady  two-and-twenty  receipts 
 against  melancholy  :  one  was  a  bright  fire  ; 
 another,  to  remember  all  the  pleasant 
 things  said  to  her;  another,  to  keep  a  box 
 of  sngar-plums  on  the  chimney-piece,  and 
 a  kettle  simmering  on  the  hob.  I  thought 
 this  mere  trifling  at  the  moment,  but  have 
 in  after  life  discovered  how  true  it  is  that 
 these  little  pleasures  often  banish  melan- 
 choly, better  than  higher  and  more  exalted 
 objects ;  and  that  no  means  ought  to  be 
 thought  too  trifling  which  can  oppose  it, 
 either  in  ourselves  or  in  others. 
 
 Sidney  Smith. 
 MELANCHOLY— Various. 
 
 I  have  neither  the  scholar's  melancholy, 
 which  is  emulation ;  nor  the  musician's, 
 which  is  fantastical ;  nor  the  courtier's, 
 which  is  proud  ;  nor  the  soldier's,  which  is 
 ambitious;  nor  the  lawyer's,  which  is  po- 
 litic ;  nor  the  lady's,  which  is  nice ;  nor 
 the  lover's,  which  is  all  these  :  but  it  is  a 
 melancholy  of  mine  own,  compounded  of 
 many  simples,  extracted  from  many  objects  : 
 and  indeed,  the  sundry  contemplation  of 
 my  travels,  in  which  my  often  rumination 
 wraps  me  in  a  most  humorous  sadness. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 MELODY  AND  HAEMONY. 
 
 Melody  signifies  any  measured  or  modu- 
 lated sound  measured,  after  the  manner  of 
 verse,  into  distinct  members  or  parts ; 
 harmony  signifies  the  suiting,  or  adapting, 
 different  modulated  sounds  to  each  other ; 
 melody  is,  therefin-e,  to  harmony,  as  a  part 
 to  the  whole ;  we  must  first  produce  melody 
 by  the  rules  of  art ;  the  harmony  which 
 follows  must  be  regulated  by  the  ear. 
 There  maj'  be  melody  without  harmony, 
 but  there  cannot  be  harmony  without 
 tnelody — we  speak  of  simple  melody,  where 
 the  modes  of  music  are  not  very  much  diver- 
 sified; but  we  cannot  speak  of  harmony 
 unless  there  be  a  variety  of  notes  to  fall  in 
 with  each  other.  G.  Crabh. 
 
 MEMORY— Definitions  of. 
 
 Memory  is  the  faculty  by  which  we 
 retain  and  recall  our  knowledge  of  the 
 past.  Wayland, 
 
 Aristotle  calls  it  the  scribe  of  the  soul ; 
 and  Bernard  calls  the  memory  the  sto- 
 mach of  the  soul,  because  it  hath  a  reten- 
 tive faculty,  and  turns  heavenly  food  into 
 blood  and  spirits.  T.  Watson. 
 
 MEMORY— Definition  of. 
 
 Memory  is  the  golden  thread  linking  all 
 the  mental  gifts  and  excellencies  together. 
 Memory,  when  treated  well,  is  like  an 
 angel  even  within  the  soul ;  but,  treated 
 ill,  is  like  a  black  weird  shadow,  casting  a 
 baneful  and  remorseful  eye  on  all  within 
 its  reach.  E.  P.  Hood. 
 
 MEMORY— Diveraities  of. 
 
 Everybody  has  a  memory,  but  every  one 
 has  not  the  same  natural  affinities,  and, 
 therefore,  every  one  does  not  remember 
 with  equal  facility  the  same  sort  of  things. 
 One  man  has  a  turn  for  natural  objects, 
 and,  like  De  CandoUe  or  Cuvier,  carries  in 
 his  memory  myriads  of  plants  and  animals. 
 The  turn  of  another  is  more  for  the  faces 
 of  his  fellow-creatures,  and,  like  Theuii- 
 stocles,  he  can  name  each  one  of  the 
 20,000  of  his  Athenian  fellow-citizens, — 
 like  Cyrus,  he  can  name  every  soldier  in  his 
 array.  A  third  has  a  propensity  for  lan- 
 guages, and,  like  Mezzofanti  or  Alexander 
 Murray,  every  word  he  reads  or  hears  in  a 
 foreign  tongue  is  a  nail  fastened  in  a  sure 
 place,  and  becomes  a  life-long  fixture. 
 And  the  taste  of  a  fourth  is  critical;  he 
 loves  diction,  choice,  sublime,  emphatic, 
 and,  like  the  Emperor  Claudius,  he  can 
 repeat  the  'Iliad'  and  'Odyssey;'  like 
 Gilbert  Wakefield,  he  has  by  heart  the 
 whole  of  Virgil  and  Horace,  nearly  all  the 
 Bible,  and  the  best  parts  of  Homer  and 
 Pindar  to  the  bargain.      Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 MEMORY— EvU  in  the. 
 
 Most  men's  memories  are  like  jet,  or 
 electrical  bodies,  that  attract  and  hold  fast 
 only  straws  or  feathers,  or  such  vain  and 
 light  things  ;  discourse  to  them  of  the 
 affairs  of  the  world,  or  some  idle  and  ro- 
 mantic story,  their  memories  retain  this  as 
 faithfully  as  if  it  were  engraven  on  leaves 
 of  brass  ;  whereas  the  great  and  important 
 truths  of  the  Gospel,  the  great  mysteries 
 of  heaven  and  concernments  of  eternity, 
 leave  no  more  impression  upon  them  than 
 words  on  the  air  in  which  they  are  spoken. 
 Whence  is  this,  but  only  that  the  one  sort 
 work  themselves  into  the  memory  through 
 the  interest  they  have  got  in  the  afi'ec- 
 tions,  which  the  other  caimot  do  ?  Htid 
 we  but  the  same  delight  in  heavenly 
 objects,  did  we  but  receive  the  truth  in  the 
 love  of  it,  and  mingle  it  with  faith  in  the 
 hearing,  this  would  fix  that  volatileness 
 and  flittiuess  of  our  memories,  and  make 
 every  truth  as  indelible  as  it  is  necessarj-. 
 Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 MEMORY— Overburdening  the. 
 
 Overburden  not  thy  memory  to  make  so 
 faithful  a  servant  a  slave.  Kemember 
 Atlas  was  weary.  Have  as  much  reason  as 
 a  camel,  to  rlise  when  thoa  bust  thy  full 
 
?;84 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 load.  Memory  is  like  a  purf?e,  if  it  be  ovei- 
 full  tluit  it  cannot  shut,  all  will  drop  out 
 of  it.  Take  heed  of  a  gluttonous  curiosity 
 to  feed  on  many  thinos,  li-st  the  greediness 
 of  the  appetite  of  thy  memory  spoil  the 
 digestion  thereof.  T.  Fuller. 
 
 MEMOEY— Power  of. 
 
 Dr.  Johnson,  it  is  said,  never  forgot  any- 
 ihing  that  he  had  seen,  heard,  or  read. 
 Surke,  Clarendon,  Gibbon,  Locke,  Tillot- 
 sou,  were  all  distinguished  for  strength 
 jf  memory.  When  alluding  to  this  svib- 
 jccfc,  Sir  William  Hamilton  observes — For 
 intellectual  power  of  the  highest  order,uone 
 were  distinguished  above  Grotius  and 
 Pascal ;  and  Grotius  and  Pascal  forgot 
 nothing  they  had  ever  read  or  thought. 
 Leibnitz  aud  Euler  were  not  less  cele- 
 brated for  their  intelligence  than  for  their 
 memory  ;  and  both  could  repeat  the  whole 
 of  the  '  j5<]neid.'  Donellus  knew  the 
 'Corpus  Juris'  by  heart;  and  yet  he  was 
 one  of  the  profonndest  and  most  original 
 speculators  in  jurisprudence.  Ben  Jonson 
 tells  us,  that  be  could  repeat  all  that  he  had 
 ever  written,  and  whole  books  that  he  had 
 read.  Themistocles  could  call  by  their 
 names  the  twenty  thousand  citizens  of 
 Athens.  Cyrus  is  reported  to  have  known 
 the  name  of  every  soldier  in  his  army. 
 Hortensius  (after  Cicero,  the  greatest 
 orator  of  Rome),  after  sitting  a  whole  day 
 at  a  piiblic  sale,  correctly  enunciated  from 
 memory  all  the  things  sold,  their  prices, 
 and  the  names  of  their  purchasers.  Nie- 
 buhr,  the  historian,  was  not  less  distin- 
 guished for  his  memory  than  for  his 
 acuteness.  In  his  youth  he  was  employed 
 in  one  of  the  public  offices  of  Denmark. 
 Part  of  a  book  of  accounts  having  been 
 destroyed,  he  restored  it  tjy  an  eftbrt  of 
 memory.  Dr.  Forbes  Winslotv. 
 
 MEMORY— Ready. 
 
 Within  the  range  of  their  own  experi- 
 ence, most  of  our  readers  must  have  en- 
 countered examples  of  ready  or  retentive 
 memory.  The  last  time  that  the  writer 
 visited  a  college  contemporary,  distin- 
 guished for  his  scholarship,  he  found  him 
 with  a  Greek  Testament  in  his  hand.  On 
 asking  him  if  he  had  not  got  that  all  by 
 heart,  he  replied  that  he  scarcely  thought 
 he  had  ;  but  he  believed  that  if  any  phrase 
 were  given,  he  couhl  tell  the  chapter  and  verse 
 where  it  occurred,  and  repeat  the  context. 
 We  tried  him  with  passages  till  we  were 
 wearied,  but  it  was  impossible  to  puzzle 
 James  Halley ;  and  we  believe  that  the 
 trial  might  have  been  extended  to  the 
 Greek  tragedians  and  Homer  with  scarcely 
 inferior  success.  A  gentleman  who  used 
 to  attend  our  church  once  offered  to  repeat 
 verbatim  any  sermon  on  the  following  day, 
 without  taking   a   single  note;    the  only 
 
 stipulation  which  he  made  w-ns  that  he 
 should  he  warned  beforehand,  so  as  to 
 keep  his  attention  fixed  at  the  time.  Fre- 
 quently these  powerful  memories  are  filled 
 with  matters  of  questionable  value.  An 
 appraiser,  who  lately  lived  at  Ham|istead, 
 could  enumerate  all  the  shops  from  Temple 
 Bar  to  the  Pump  in  Aldgate ;  and  from 
 being  able  to  tell  all  about  every  corner 
 house  in  London,  who  lived  in  it,  and  what 
 business  was  carried  on  in  it,  he  went  by 
 the  soubriquet  "  Memorj'  Corner  Thomp- 
 son." Mr.  Paxton  Hood  told  us  of  a  man 
 whom  he  knew  in  London  who  could  re- 
 peat the  whole  of  Josephus;  and  William 
 Lyon,  an  itinerant  actor  well  known  in 
 Edinburgh  a  hundred  years  ago,  used  to 
 gain  wagers  by  committing  to  memory 
 overniiiht  the  '  Daily  Advertiser,'  and  re- 
 peating it  word  for  word  next  morning. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilion. 
 MEMORY— Remarkable. 
 
 Richard  Porson  had  a  remarkable  me- 
 mory. On  one  occasion,  when  some  friends 
 were  assembled  in  Dr.  Burney's  house  at 
 Hammersmith,  in  examining  some  old 
 newspapers  which  detailed  the  execution 
 of  Charles  I,  they  came  on  sundry  parti- 
 culars which  they  fancied  had  been  over- 
 looked by  Rapin  and  Hume ;  but  Porson 
 instantly  repeated  a  long  passage  from 
 Rapin,  in  which  these  circumstances  were 
 all  recounted.  Once,  when  in  the  shop  of 
 Priestly,  the  bookseller,  a  gentleman  came 
 in  and  asked  for  a  certain  edition  of  De- 
 mosthenes ;  Priestly  did  not  possess  it,  and 
 as  the  gentleman  seemed  a  good  deal  dis- 
 appointed, Porson  inquired  whether  he 
 wished  to  consult  any  particular  passage. 
 The  stranger  mentioned  a  quotation  of 
 which  he  was  in  search,  when  Porsos 
 opened  the  Aldine  edition  of  Demosthenes, 
 and  after  turning  over  a  few  leaves,  put 
 his  finger  on  the  passage.  On  another  oc- 
 casion, calling  on  a  friend,  he  found  him 
 reading  Thucydides.  His  acquaintance 
 asked  him  the  meaning  of  some  word, 
 when  Porson  immediately  repeated  the 
 context.  "  But  how  do  you  know  that  it 
 was  this  passage  I  was  reading?"  asked 
 his  friend.  "  Because,"  replied  Porson, 
 "  the  word  occurs  only  twice  in  Thucy- 
 dides ;  once  on  the  right-hand  page  in 
 the  edition  which  you  are  using,  and  once 
 on  the  left.  I  observed  on  which  side  yon 
 looked,  and  accordingly  I  knew  to  which 
 passage  you  referred."  Ibid. 
 
 MEMORY— Trusting. 
 
 Spoil  not  thy  memory,  nor  make  it  bad 
 by  suspecting  it.  How  canst  thou  find 
 that  true  which  thou  wilt  not  trust  ? 
 Marshal  thy  notions  into  a  handsome 
 method.  One  will  carry  twi(;e  more 
 weight,  trust  and  packed  up  in   l)undles. 
 
MEMOHY  AND  INTELLECT— MEMORY  IN  SCEIPTURES. 
 
 585 
 
 than    when    it    lies    untowardly    flapping 
 about  his  shoulders.  T.  Fuller. 
 
 MEMOEY  AND  INTELLECT. 
 
 The  memory  may  be  strong  where  the 
 intellect  is  weak ;  but  without  the  former 
 faculty  there  can  be  no  intellectual  growth. 
 For,  stripped  of  all  mystery,  what  is 
 memory  ?  Is  it  not  the  mind's  power  of 
 retaining  its  possessions  ?  If  Sensation, 
 Perception,  Attention  are  the  collectiiig 
 faculties,  Memory  is,  what  Sir  William 
 Hamilton  has  called  it,  the  "  conservative 
 faculty" — the  custodier  of  the  collected 
 treasures.  In  point  of  fact,  we  know  that 
 every  mind  from  an  early  period  possesses 
 this  power.  In  virtue  of  it,  and  in  union 
 with  judgment,  the  infant  soon  learns  to 
 distinguish  its  mother  from  all  the  world ; 
 and  in  virtue  of  it  the  inarticulate  sages  of 
 our  race — those  little  Pythagoreans  who 
 have  not  yet  finished  their  twelve  months' 
 novitiate  of  silence — have  laid  the  foun- 
 dations of  a  most  valuable  experimental 
 philosophy.  They  have  made  the  discovery 
 and  they  retain  the  conviction  that  fire 
 burns ;  that  there  is  a  certain  point  beyond 
 which  if  Puss's  good  nature  is  taxed  it  is 
 pretty  sure  to  give  way;  that,  in  cases  of 
 collision,  action  and  reaction  being  equal, 
 it  is  inexpedient  to  hlitt  violently  against 
 bedposts  and  the  legs  of  chairs  and  tables. 
 The  first  use  of  the  conservative  faculty  is 
 to  treasure  up  experiences  like  these,  just 
 as  one  of  the  first  uses  of  the  reasoning  or 
 comparing  faculty  is  to  generalise  them 
 and  draw  deductions  from  them  ;  and  with 
 the  help  of  these  two  faculties  your  little 
 philosopher  on  all  fours  has  already  taught 
 himself  more  important  lessons  in  the  art 
 of  self-preservation  than  any  which  he  will 
 afterwards  learn,  even  although  he  should 
 attend  Dr.  Hassal's  Sanatory  Lectures,  or 
 study  Sir  John  Sinclair  on  the  Art  of 
 Longevity.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 MEMORY  IN  LANGUAGES. 
 
 Mithridates,  king  of  Pontus,  had  an 
 empire  in  which  two-and-twenty  languages 
 were  spoken  ;  and  it  is  asserted  that  there 
 was  not  a  province  in  which  he  could  not 
 administer  justice,  nor  a  subject  with  whom 
 he  could  not  converse  in  his  own  dialect 
 and  without  the  aid  of  an  interpreter.  But 
 the  royal  linguist  was  eclipsed  by  the  late 
 Cai'dinal  Mezzofanti,  who  died  as  recently 
 as  1819.  This  wonderful  man  was  the  son 
 of  a  carpenter  at  Bologna,  and  acquired  his 
 first  knowledge  of  the  classical  languages 
 by  listening  to  the  scra])s  of  Latin  and 
 Greek  which  came  through  the  open  case- 
 ment of  a  schoolroom  window  near  which 
 he  was  working.  To  the  boys  inside  the 
 tasks  were  irksome  enough,  but  the  stolen 
 waters  were  sweet  to  the  poor  lad  who 
 could  not  pay  for  such  learning ;  and  with 
 
 his  wonderful  retention  of  words  and  with 
 a  grammatical  intuition  which  has  never 
 been  thoroughly  explained,  he  went  on 
 acquiring,  till  at  the  age  of  seventy  he 
 could  converse  in  upwards  of  fifty  lan- 
 guages, besides  possessing  some  knowledge 
 of  at  least  twenty  more.  Basque  is  the 
 most  difficult  language  in  Europe,  but 
 Mezzofanti  was  at  home  in  both  its  dia- 
 lects. Germans  he  could  address  either  in 
 high  Saxon  or  in  the  patois  respectively 
 of  Austria  and  the  Black  Forest.  With 
 Englishmen  he  never  misapplied  the  sign 
 of  a  tense,  a  feat  of  which  few  Scottdiraen 
 or  Irishmen  can  boast.  When  Dr.  Tholuck 
 visited  the  Vatican,  he  was  amazed  at  the 
 correctness  with  which  Mezzofanti  kept 
 up  the  dialogue,  first  in  Arabic,  then  in 
 Persian ;  and,  to  mention  nothing  more,  he 
 was  so  far  master  of  at  least  one  Chinese 
 dialect  that  in  the  college  of  the  Propa- 
 ganda he  could  deliver  a  set  speech  to 
 students  from  the  Celestial  Empire. 
 
 Of  Dr.  John  Leyden,  the  distinguished 
 Orientalist,  many  mnemonic  feats  are  re- 
 corded. Amongst  others,  it  is  mentioned 
 that,  after  he  had  gone  to  Calcutta,  a  case 
 occurred  where  a  great  deal  turned  on  the 
 exact  wording  of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  of 
 which,  however,  a  copy  could  not  be  found 
 in  the  Presidency.  Leyden,  who  before 
 leaving  home  had  had  occasion  to  read  over 
 the  Act,  undertook  to  supply  it  from  me- 
 mory ;  and  so  accurate  was  his  transcript, 
 that  when  nearly  a  year  after  a  printed 
 copy  was  obtained  from  England,  it  was 
 found  to  be  identical  with  what  Leyden 
 had  dictated.  Ibid. 
 
 MEMORY  IN  SCRIPTURES. 
 
 "  Ask  one  of  our  nation,"  saith  Josephus, 
 "  concerning  the  law,  he  will  tell  you  all 
 things  more  readily  than  his  own  name; 
 for,  learning  them  as  soon  as  we  come  to 
 have  any  knowledge  of  things,  we  preserve 
 them  deeply  engraven  on  our  minds."  Ri- 
 bera  tells  of  a  man  who  "  was  acquainted 
 with  a  Jew  at  Salamanca,  of  whom  he 
 inquired  about  several  things,  both  in  the 
 historical  and  prophetical  books  of  Scrip- 
 ture;" but,  says  he,  "he  stopt  me  imme- 
 diately upon  the  first  mention  of  them, 
 and  repeated  them  all  himself  without  a 
 book  in  the  Hebrew  tongue;  which  I  re- 
 lating to  another  Jew  tliat  was  become 
 Christian,  he  told  me  that  it  was  no  won- 
 der, for  they  committed  all  these  things 
 to  memory  from  their  childhood." 
 
 It  is  said  of  Tertullian  that  he  devoted 
 his  nights  and  days  to  the  Scriptures  and 
 got  much  of  them  by  heart,  so  exactly  that 
 he  knew  the  very  punctuation  of  them. 
 St.  Austin  tells  us  that  after  his  conversion, 
 the  Scriptures  were  the  matter  of  his  chief 
 joy.  Theodosius,  the  younger,  could  repeat 
 any  part  of  the   Scriptures  exactly,  and 
 
586 
 
 MEN. 
 
 could  discourse  with  the  bishops  at  court, 
 as  if  he  himself  had  been  a  bishop.  It  is 
 said  of  Oris^en  that  he  never  went  to  meals 
 but  he  had  some  portion  of  Scripture  read, 
 nor  to  sleep  without  observance  of  the 
 same  practice.  Eusebius  says,  that  he 
 heard  one  who  had  his  eyes  burnt  out 
 during  the  Dioclesian  persecution,  repeat 
 from  memory  the  Scriptures  in  a  large 
 assembly.  It  is  said  of  another  that  he 
 had  read  the  Scriptures  until  he  had  made 
 his  soul  a  library  for  Christ.  Beza  could 
 repeat  them  in  Greek  at  fourscore  years  of 
 age.  Cranmer  and  Ridley  learnt  the  New 
 Testament  by  heart,  the  one  in  his  journey 
 to  Rome,  and  the  other  in  the  walks  of 
 Pembroke  Hall,  in  Cambridge.       Bennett. 
 
 MEN— Gas. 
 
 Then,  again,  for  variety's  sake,  we  have 
 our  [las  men,  or  gaseotis  men,  who  are  in- 
 flated like  an  air  balloon ;  the  one  with  gas, 
 the  other  with  vanity.  They  occupy  con- 
 siderable space  during  the  inflation  ;  but 
 cut  the  film  that  holds  the  gas  and  they 
 vanish  into  desert  air.  These  men's  heads 
 are  as  hollow  as  their  hearts  are  corrupt. 
 Under  the  same  genus  we  may  class  men 
 of  froth  and  effervescence,  and  all  empty 
 wind  men.  Read. 
 
 MEN— Glass. 
 
 In  contrast  again  with  the  last  are  your 
 men  of  glass  :  open,  frank,  transpai-ent  sort 
 of  men — easy,  good-natured  bodies,  with- 
 out craft  or  disguise,  whose  thoughts  lie 
 outside — you  can  see  right  through  them. 
 Tliey  are  quite  at  odds  with  the  crafty  and 
 designing,  and  can  present  but  a  feeble  re- 
 sistance to  the  pressure  of  life's  evils,  and 
 of  course  are  but  poorly  fitted  to  meet  the 
 rough-and-tumble  of  the  world.  One  good 
 crash  of  adversity  is  enough  to  break  them 
 into  a  thousand  pieces.  They  are  very 
 good  sort  of  men,  and  fill  many  useful 
 places,  yet  they  are  made  rather  for  the 
 sunshine  of  prosperity  than  for  the  hail- 
 storm of  adversity.  Ibid. 
 
 MEN— Gold. 
 
 Next  comes  yowr  gold  men :  pure,  genuine 
 men  of  sterling  worth.  They  have  position, 
 wealth,  influence,  and  they  know  how  to 
 use  them  for  the  real  good  of  society. 
 Refined  and  intelligent,  the  heart  right 
 and  in  the  riglit  place,  they  are  the  pure 
 gold  of  the  earth.  Though  like  gold  scarce, 
 yet  like  gold  of  high  value.  In  all  the 
 practical  purposes  of  life,  in  all  philan- 
 tliropical  enterprises,  and  in  whatever 
 goes  to  promote  the  real  advancement  of 
 man,  they  are  worth  their  weight  in  gold. 
 But  there  are  the  would-be's  of  this  class, 
 too — gold  fringed  men,  gilt  men  ;  men  and 
 women  of  glitter  and  gold  tinsel,  and  all 
 the   sickly   silken  sons   and  daughters  of 
 
 fashion  and  pleasure  ;  no  more  like  the 
 real  men  of  gold  than  the  slightest  pos- 
 sible gilding  is  like  a  lump  of  gold.     Read. 
 
 MEN— Great. 
 
 The  great  and  successful  men  of  history 
 are  commonly  made  by  the  great  occasions 
 they  fill.  They  are  the  men  who  had 
 faith  to  meet  such  occasions,  and  therefore 
 the  occasions  marked  them,  called  them  to 
 come  and  be  what  the  successes  of  their 
 faith  would  make  them.  The  boy  is  Imt 
 a  shepherd,  but  he  hears  from  his  panic- 
 stricken  countrymen  of  the  giant  champion 
 of  their  enemies.  A  fire  seizes  him,  and 
 he  goes  down,  with  nothing  but  his  sling 
 and  his  heart  of  faith,  to  lay  that  champion 
 in  the  dust.  Next  he  is  a  great  military 
 leader;  next  the  king  of  his  country.  As 
 with  David,  so  with  Nehemiah;  as  with 
 him,  so  with  Paul ;  as  with  him,  so  with 
 Luther.  A  Socrates,  a  Tully,  a  Cromwell, 
 a  Washington — all  the  great  master-spirits, 
 the  founders  and  lawgivers  of  empires,  and 
 defenders  of  the  rights  of  man,  are  made 
 by  the  same  law.  These  did  not  shrink 
 despairingly  within  the  compass  of  their 
 poor  abilities,  but  in  their  heart  of  faith 
 tliey  embraced  each  one  his  cause,  and 
 went  forth,  under  the  inspiring  force  of 
 their  call,  to  apprehend  that  for  wliich 
 they  were  apprehended.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 It  is  with  great  men  as  with  high 
 mountains.  They  oppress  with  awe  when 
 we  stand  under  them  ;  they  disappoint 
 our  insatiable  imaginations  when  we  are 
 nigh,  but  not  quite  close  to  them ;  and 
 then,  the  further  we  recede  from  them, 
 the  more  astonishing  they  appear;  until, 
 their  bases  being  concealed  by  intervening 
 objects,  they  at  one  moment  seem  mira- 
 culously lifted  above  the  earth,  and  the 
 next  strike  our  fancies  as  let  down  from 
 heaven.  Mare. 
 
 MEN— Hybrid. 
 
 There  remains  one  other  class  of  men 
 which  ought  not  to  be  passed  unnoticed. 
 It  is  a  sort  of  hybrid  race,  mongrel,  hetero- 
 geneous, anomalous,  which  we  are  at  loss 
 where  to  classify.  We  refer  to  your  exqui- 
 sites, your  fancy  gentlemen,  gentlemen 
 loafers,  and  their  yet  more  exquisite  coun- 
 terparts of  the  other  sex.  Tliese  notables 
 are  not  snnple  substances,  but  compounds — 
 compositions — cosmetics  of  exquisite  mix- 
 ture— bitter,  sweet,  oily,  odoriferous — rare 
 and  exquisite  specimens  of  humanity. 
 While  we  cannot  form  them  into  a  distinct 
 class,  we  cannot  arrange  them  in  any  one 
 class  already  named.  They  belonged  right- 
 fully to  at  least  three  of  the  above  specified 
 classes.  They  belonged  to  the  silver  coats 
 — or  are  of  the  goldf ringed  caste — gilt 
 men — the   gilding   often   as   thin   as   the 
 
MEN. 
 
 587 
 
 most  delicate  foil,  and  covering  a  mass  of 
 the  basest  sort  of  metal.  Again,  these 
 exquisites  show  strong  affinities  to  the 
 class  we  denominate  gaseous.  Just  per- 
 forate these  bags  of  wind  and  discharge 
 their  gas,  and  they  would  collapse,  and  not 
 much  would  be  left  of  them.  And  another 
 portion  of  this  class  bear  quite  as  near 
 an  affinity  to  your  wish-a-tvashy,  dough- 
 brained  gentry.  Read. 
 
 MEN — India-rubber. 
 
 In  complete  contrast  to  the  last  two,  we 
 have  our  india-rubber  men :  all  elasticity. 
 You  may  turn  them,  twist  them,  bend 
 them,  any  way  you  please;  mould  them 
 into  any  shape;  put  them  to  any  use; 
 make  any  thing  of  them,  or  nothing,  as 
 you  will;  make  Afoot-ball  of  them,  which 
 you  may  kick  as  you  choose ;  make  a  ball 
 that  will  roll  as  well  one  way  as  another — 
 all  side  and  no  side;  a  ball  that  ycm  may 
 throw,  or  toss,  or  make  bound  up  or  down. 
 They  are  men  of  any  opinion  or  principle, 
 or  of  no  opinion  or  principle,  and  as  little 
 scrupulous  of  any  practice;  as  pliable  as 
 their  very  elastic  prototype.  And  in 
 nothing  does  the  resemblance  appear  more 
 striking  than  in  the  elasticity  of  their  con- 
 sciences. They  can  stretch  their  conscience 
 before  it  will  give  any  compunctious  signs 
 of  violence,  as  far  as  you  can  draw  out  a 
 piece  of  india-rubber.  They  are  all  things 
 in  general  and  nothing  in  particular. 
 
 Ibid. 
 MEN— Iron. 
 
 There's  your  iron  man;  firm,  deter- 
 mined, harder  than  the  granite — unless 
 you  get  him  heated.  Right  or  wrong,  you 
 may  hammer  at  him  as  lung  as  you  please; 
 it  is  of  no  use,  if  he  only  keep  cool.  Yet 
 stern,  frigid,  unattractive  as  he  may  ap- 
 pear, he  is  your  generally  and  most  per- 
 manently useful  man.  The  world  might 
 as  well  expect  to  get  on  without  the  use 
 of  iron  as  without  this  hardy,  industrious, 
 weighty  class  of  men.  Only  engage  their 
 tenacity  and  hardness  on  the  right  side, 
 and  they  are  the  best  men  in  the  world. 
 
 Ibid. 
 MEN— Knowing 
 
 You  cannot  know  men  by  the  clothes 
 they  wear.  These  may  express  the  smallest 
 features  of  their  characters.  To  know 
 men  you  must  look  into  their  faces;  you 
 must  hear  their  words;  you  must  observe 
 their  actions.  And  after  you  have  done 
 this,  how  much  of  them  is  left  behind — the 
 unopened  pages  of  the  book  of  the  heart, 
 its  motives,  thoughts,  desires,  intents — the 
 unrevealed  doings  of  darkness  in  hours, 
 places,  and  ways,  which  only  the  judgment 
 will  disclose,  unless  covered  with  the  pro- 
 pitiation of  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 MEN— Lead. 
 
 Again,  we  meet  a  class  that  we  can  only 
 liken  to  lead :  heavy,  dull ;  body,  brains, 
 arms,  and  legs,  made  about  of  the  same 
 material;  mind,  heart,  pluck,  made  of  the 
 same  dead,  dull,  dark,  crocky,  muddy  sub- 
 stance; no  more  life  or  elasticity  than  a 
 dead  lump  of  lead.  Head. 
 
 MEN— Love  of. 
 
 We  must  love  men,  ere  to  us 
 They  v/ill  seem  worthy  of  our  love. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 MEN— Lion. 
 
 Some  men  are  rough,  uncouth,  growling, 
 grumbling,  like  the  bear ;  others  are  lion- 
 like,  or  tiger-like,  or  loolfish,  or  fox-like. 
 Some  are  timid  as  the  deer,  or  gentle  as 
 the  lamb,  or  possessed  of  the  strength, 
 l)eauty,  and  alertness  of  the  leopard. 
 Others  are  moiose  and  surly  like  the 
 mastiff,  or  arrogant  and  overbearing  like 
 the  bull-dog,  or  snarling  and  snapping  like 
 the  cur,  fur  ever  barking,  but  never  having 
 the  courage  to  bice.  Read. 
 
 MEN— Mercury. 
 
 Then  we  have  men  of  mercury — quick, 
 mercurial.  These  are  your  quicksilvers — ■ 
 shiny,  showy — generally  good  metal — next 
 to  gold — though  not  quite  so  tangilile— a 
 little  too  slippery  and  rather  fiery.  These 
 quicksilvers  quite  as  often  figure  in  female 
 attire,  and  rightfully  belong  to  the  sex. 
 Though  sometimes  a  little  feared,  and  their 
 currency  occasionally  questioned,  yet  they 
 miy  be  depended  on  as  the  genuine  coin. 
 Care  must  be  taken,  however,  to  distin- 
 guish this  class  from  the  gunpowder  and 
 other  explosive  classes.  The  latter  are 
 never  safe  to  bring  about  your  d  imestic 
 hearths,  especially  if  you  have  a  little  too 
 much_^re  there  of  your  own.  Hid. 
 
 MEN— Pewter. 
 
 Other  men  that  it  takes  to  make  a  world 
 we  may  denominate  brass  men  and  pewter 
 men.  These  are  both  compounds.  Not 
 exactly  one  thing  or  the  other,  hut  some 
 of  both.  The  first  class,  like  brass,  its 
 prototype,  has  some  claims  to  be  considered 
 a  finer  metal.  But  people  of  this  stamp 
 generally  put  forward  their  claims  with  so 
 muc'h  eftVontery,  if  not  arrogance,  that 
 their  claims  are  resisted  or  grudgingly 
 allowed.  This  class  is  distinguished  for 
 little  else  than  their  self-conceit  and  im- 
 pudence. They  have  too  much  brass.  The 
 pewter  men  are  half  lead  and  halt  tin,  no 
 fixed  character :  sometimes  as  dead  as  lead, 
 and  under  other  circumstances  as  biting 
 and  rasping  as  the  rough  edge  of  a  sheet 
 of  tin.  Read. 
 
 MEN— Selfish  and  Generous. 
 
 Mankind  are  losers  when  a  selfish  man 
 
588 
 
 MEN. 
 
 prospers;  they  are  gainers  by  the  pros- 
 ]n-rity  of  the  generous  and  liberal-minded. 
 The  latter  receives  the  blessings  of  God's 
 providence  as  the  sun  receives  light,  to 
 brighten  and  gladden  the  world,  or  as  the 
 healthy  plant  the  influences  of  nature, 
 to  scatter  them  abroad  in  fertility  and 
 fragrance  again.  The  former,  on  the  con- 
 trary, like  an  excresence  on  the  fruit  tree, 
 absorbing  the  moisture  that  might  have 
 gone  to  produce  leaves  and  fruit,  receive 
 any  blessing  at  God's  hand  only  to  retain 
 or  abuse  it;  or,  like  a  rank  weed,  draw  in 
 the  genial  influences  of  the  soil  and  atmo- 
 spliere  of  life,  only  to  poison  all  the  air 
 around  them.  Caird. 
 
 MEN— Self-made. 
 
 Columbus  was  a  weaver.  Franklin  was 
 a  journeyman  printer.  Massillon,  as  well 
 as  Fletcher,  arose  amidst  the  humblest 
 vocations.  Niebuhr  was  a  peasant.  Sixtus 
 V  was  employed  in  keeping  swine.  Rollin 
 was  son  of  a  cutler.  Ferguson  and  Burns, 
 Scottish  poets,  were,  the  former  a  plough- 
 man, the  latter  a  shepherd.  J5sop  was  a 
 slave.  Homer  was  a  beggar.  Daniel  de 
 Foe  was  apprenticed  to  a  hosier.  Demos- 
 thenes was  the  son  of  a  cutler.  Virgil 
 was  the  son  of  a  baker.  Hogarth  an  en- 
 graver of  pewter  pots.  Gay  was  an  ap- 
 prentice to  a  silk  mercer.  Ben  Jonson 
 was  a  bricklayer.  Porson  was  the  son  of 
 a  parish  clerk.  Prideaux  was  employed  to 
 sweep  E.\eter  college.  Akenside  was  the 
 son  of  a  butcher.  Pope  was  the  son  of  a 
 merchant.  Cervantes  was  a  private  soldier. 
 Gitlord  and  Bloomfield  were  shoemakers. 
 Howard  was  apprenticed  to  a  grocer. 
 Halley  was  the  son  of  a  soap  boiler.  Sir 
 Richard  Arkwright  was  a  barber  for  a 
 number  of  years.  Belzoni  was  the  son  of 
 a  barber.  Blackstone  was  the  son  of  a 
 linendraper.  Blacklock  was  in  a  distressed 
 state  of  poverty.  Buchanan  was  a  private 
 soldier.  Butler  was  the  son  of  a  farmer. 
 Canova  was  the  son  of  a  stone-cutter.  Sir 
 Humphrey  Davy  was  the  son  of  a  carver. 
 Dodsley  was  a  stocking  weaver.  Haydn 
 was  the  son  of  a  poor  cartwright.  Herschel 
 was  the  son  of  a  musician.  Johnson  was 
 the  son  of  a  bookseller.  Milton  wiis  a 
 echoolniaster.  Allan  Ramsay  was  the  son 
 of  a  miner.  Parks  was  the  son  of  a  small 
 grocer.  Raffaelle  was  the  son  of  a  peasant. 
 Richardson  was  the  son  of  a  joiner. 
 
 W.  Anderson. 
 MEN— Silver. 
 
 We  have,  too,  our  silver  men :  very  use- 
 ful in  their  way,  because  they  occupy 
 positions  which  make  them  useful.  Silver 
 is  of  little  intrinsic  value  in  itself.  The 
 commercial  world  have  given  it  an  import- 
 ance by  agreeing  to  use  it  to  represent 
 property  as  a  circulating  medium.     And  it 
 
 is  extensively  and  conveniently  used  for 
 mechanical  purposes  and  for  ornament. 
 But,  differently  from  iron  and  steel,  its  use 
 might  be  dispensed  with,  and  other  metals 
 used  in  its  stead.  So  our  silver  men  and 
 women  are  convenient,  and  often  orna- 
 mental, and,  from  position,  often  very  use- 
 ful, but  not,  like  our  iron  and  steel  men, 
 indispensable.  Their  value  is  fictitious 
 rather  than  real.  We  should  esteein  them 
 because  of  the  value  we  have  agreed  they 
 shall  represent,  and  the  useful  purposes  to 
 which  we  have  assented  to  devote  them. 
 There  would  be  left  a  great  chasm  in 
 society  if  their  places  were  vacated. 
 
 Claiming,  and  sometimes  seeming,  to 
 behmg  to  the  same  class,  are  your  silver- 
 coated,  silver-ioashed,  and  silver-plated 
 men.  This  kind  of  gentry  are  alloys, 
 with  a  thin  coating  of  a  better  metal  j  yet 
 not  wholly  worthless.  Though  their  out- 
 side shine  is  the  least  of  their  worth,  yet 
 there  is  there  a  substratum  of  the  baser 
 metals,  of  some  worth.  To  this  class  be- 
 longs the  first  layer  of  those  interesting 
 personages  called  apers  and  pretenders. 
 They  frequently  pass  for  more  than  they 
 are  worth  till  the  silver-coating  begins  to 
 wear  ofi",  and  then  you  see  what  they  are. 
 
 Read. 
 MEN— Steel. 
 
 Then  there's  your  men  of  steel:  pos- 
 sessing all  the  intrinsically  excellent  quali- 
 ties of  hardness  and  tenacity,  and  dura- 
 bility and  general  usefulness,  of  the  class 
 just  named,  and  over  and  above  these,  they 
 are  fitted  to  serve  some  purposes  which  the 
 iron  man  does  not.  They  are  more  elastic, 
 more  delicate  and  flexible,  yet  abate  not 
 an  iota  of  the  tenacity  and  hardness  of 
 the  man  of  iron  (which  they  inherit  as  a 
 birthright).  The  truth  is  they  are  the 
 same  in  stamina  and  material,  only  tem- 
 pered and  refined,  and  made  more  pliable 
 and  useful  in  certain  departments  of  life's 
 business.  They  take  a  higher  polish;  and, 
 like  steel,  that  can  be  worked  up  into  a  great 
 variety  of  utensils,  vessels,  tools,  weapons 
 of  defence,  and  be  used  extensively  for 
 mechanical  and  for  ornamental  purposes, 
 where  iron  would  not  do,  this  class  of  men 
 fill  a  place  and  exert  an  influence  in  human 
 enterprise  and  progress  where  the  rougher 
 viituos  of  the  other  class  do  not  reach. 
 Where,  in  human  activities,  sharp-edged 
 tools  are  needed ;  where  keener  percep- 
 tions and  more  delicate  sensibilities  are 
 required  ;  and  yet  nerves  not  the  less  firm, 
 and  resolutions  not  the  less  determined, 
 men  of  steel  are  much  better  than  your 
 iron  men.  Both  possess  the  same  general 
 substratum  or  basis  of  character;  tlie  one 
 is  the  more  generally  useful  and  indispen- 
 sably necessary,  and  the  other  the  most 
 highly  useful  in  the  particular  sphere  to 
 
MEIT— MESCY. 
 
 5S9 
 
 which  theii"  activities  are  more  especially 
 adapted.  Read. 
 
 MSN— Stone. 
 
 As  remotely  akin  to  these  are  men  of 
 stone:  rough,  cold-hearted,  hard-faced, 
 and,  like  stones  you  tumble  over  in  the 
 street,  or  find  troublesome  in  the  field,  you 
 ■wish  there  were  less  of  them  ;  yet  when 
 you  have  succeeded  in  quarrying  and  cut- 
 ting and  polishing,  they  turn  out  some- 
 times useful  and  ornamental  blocks.    Ibid. 
 
 MEN— Tin. 
 
 Then  there  are  the  men  of  Un :  thin- 
 lipped,  sharp-nosed — neither  very  close- 
 mouthed  nor  safe-mouthed — a  little  tiirt, 
 and  not  over-burdened  with  the  milk  of 
 human  kindness,  or  troubled  with  common 
 sense ;  and  withal  a  little  jaretensious,  if 
 not  corttentiousj  and,  like  tin  when  well 
 scoured,  making  pretensions  to  be  of  the 
 silver  gentry.  Read, 
 
 MEN— "Wish-a-washy. 
 
 Then  come,  by  way  of  contrast,  your 
 wish-a-washy,  linsey -loolsey ,  tow-striag 
 men,  all  belonging  to  the  same  genus — 
 half-vegetable,  half  animal,  yet  neither  so 
 well  developed  that  you  are  quite  positive 
 where  to  classify  them.  The  head  of  each 
 beti-ays  a  decided  affinity  to  a  vegetable 
 nature,  especially  to  that  of  the  squash 
 species ;  while  in  other  parts  the  animal 
 decidedly  predominates.  This  species  is 
 not  generally  vicious,  or  rabid,  or  mis- 
 chievous, for  the  very  good  reason  that 
 they  are  not  capable  of  putting  forth  any 
 such  positive  symptoms  of  vitality.     Ibid. 
 
 MEN  WITH  MEN. 
 
 Before  men  we  stand  as  opaque  bee- 
 hives. They  can  see  the  thoughts  go  in 
 and  out  of  us,  but  what  work  they  do 
 inside  of  a  man,  they  cannot  tell.  Before 
 God  we  are  as  glass  bee-hives,  and  all  that 
 our  thoughts  are  doing  within  us  He  per- 
 fectly sees  and  understands. 
 
 R.  W.  BeecTier. 
 
 MERCIES— Thankfulness  for. 
 
 Trumpeters  love  to  sound  when  there  is 
 an  echo;  and  God  loves  to  bestow  His 
 mercies  where  He  may  hear  of  them 
 again.  Spurstowe. 
 
 MERCY— Abused. 
 
 To  sin  because  mercy  abounds  is  the 
 devil's  logic.  He  that  sins  because  of 
 mercy,  is  like  one  that  wounds  his  head 
 because  he  hath  a  plaster ;  he  that  sins 
 because  of  God's  mercy,  shall  have  judg- 
 ment without  mercy.  Mercy  abused  turns 
 to  fury  (Deut.  xxix,  19,  20).  "  If  he  bless 
 himself,  saying,  I  shall  have  peace  though 
 I  walk  after  the  imaginations  of  my  heart, 
 
 to  add  drunkenness  to  thirst,  the  Lord 
 will  not  spare  him,  but  the  anger  of  the 
 Lord,  and  His  jealousy,  shall  smoke  against 
 that  man."  Nothing  sweeter  than  mercy, 
 when  it  is  improved;  nothing  fiercer, 
 when  it  is  abused;  nothing  colder  than 
 lead  when  it  is  taken  out  of  the  mine; 
 nothing  more  scalding  than  lead,  when  it 
 is  heated.  Nothing  blunter  than  iron, 
 nothing  sharper  when  it  is  whetttd. 
 "  The  mercy  of  the  Lord  is  upon  them 
 that  fear  Him."  Mercy  is  not  for  them 
 that  sin  and  fear  not,  but  for  them  that 
 fear  and  sin  not.  T.  Watson. 
 
 MERCY— only  through  Christ. 
 
 Propitiation,  or  mercy -seat  (the  same 
 word  as  in  Heb.  ix,  5).  If  we  would  have 
 mercy,  it  must  be  through  Christ ;  out  of 
 Christ  no  mercy  is  to  be  had.  We  read  in 
 the  old  law :  First,  none  might  come  into 
 the  Holy  of  Holies,  where  the  mercy-seat 
 stood,  but  the  High-priest :  signifying,  we 
 have  nothing  to  do  with  mercy,  but 
 through  our  High  Priest;  secondly,  the 
 High  Priest  might  not  come  near  the 
 mercy-seat  without  blood  (Lev.  xvi,  14) ; 
 to  show  that  we  have  no  right  to  mercy, 
 but  through  the  expiatory  sacrifice  of 
 Christ's  blood :  thirdly,  the  High  Priest 
 might  not,  upon  pain  of  death,  come  near 
 the  mercy-seat  without  incense  (Lev.  xvi, 
 13).  No  mercy  from  God  without  the 
 incense  of  Cln-ist's  intercession;  so  that,  if 
 we  would  have  mercy,  we  must  get  a  part 
 in  Christ.  Mercy  swims  to  us  through 
 Christ's  blood.  T.  Watsi,n. 
 
 In  Christ  the  beams  of  God's  mercy  are 
 concentrated,  as  the  beams  of  the  sun  are 
 in  a  burning-glass,  which  falling  upon  our 
 hearts,  they  are,  or  should  be  hereby  in- 
 fiamed,  and  made  to  burn  with  greater 
 fervour  of  love  and  kindness  to  all  in  want, 
 especially  to  all  His  followers  who  bear 
 His  image.  The  right  spring  of  mercy  to 
 our  neighbour,  is  the  sense  of  God's  mercy 
 to  us.  Gouge. 
 
 MERCY— Constant. 
 
 All  the  year  round,  every  hour  of  every 
 day,  God  is  richly  blessing  us ;  both  when 
 we  sleep  and  when  we  wake,  His  mercy 
 waits  upon  us.  The  sun  may  leave  off 
 shining,  but  our  God  will  never  cease  to 
 cheer  His  children  with  His  love.  Like  a 
 river  His  loving-kindness  is  always  flowing, 
 with  a  fulness  inexhaustible  as  His  own 
 nature,  which  is  its  source.  Like  the 
 atmosphere  which  always  surrounds  the 
 earth,  and  is  always  ready  to  support  the 
 life  of  man,  the  benevolence  of  God  sur- 
 rounds all  His  creatures ;  in  it,  as  in  their 
 element,  they  live,  and  move,  and  have 
 their  being.  Yet  as  the  sun  on  summer 
 days  appears  to  gladden  us  with   beams 
 
590 
 
 MERCY. 
 
 more  warm  and  bright  than  at  other 
 times,  and  as  rivers  are  at  certain  seasons 
 swollen  with  the  rain,  and  as  the  atmo- 
 sphere itself  on  occasions  is  fraught  with 
 more  fresh,  more  bracing,  or  more  balmy 
 influences  than  heretofore,  so  is  it  with 
 the  mercy  of  God ;  it  hath  its  golden 
 hours,  its  days  of  overflow,  when  the  Lord 
 magnifieth  His  grace  and  lifteth  high  His 
 love  before  the  sons  of  men. 
 
 C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 MEKCY— Door  of. 
 
 The  daugliter  of  a  poor  widow  had  left 
 her  mother's  cottage.  Led  astray  by 
 others,  she  had  Ibrsaken  the  guide  of  her 
 youth,  and  forgotten  the  covenant  of  her 
 God.  Fervent,  believing  prayer  was  the 
 mother's  only  resource  ;  nor  was  it  in  vain. 
 Touched  by  a  sense  of  sin,  and  anxious  to 
 regain  the  peace  she  had  lost,  late  one 
 niglit  the  daughter  returned  home. 
 
 It  was  near  midnight,  and  she  was  sur- 
 prised to  find  the  door  unlatched.  But 
 she  was  soon  told,  in  the  fulness  of  the 
 mother's  heart,  "  Never,  my  child,  by 
 niglit  or  by  day,  has  that  door  been  fast- 
 ened since  you  left.  I  knew  that  you 
 would  come  back  some  day,  and  [  was  un- 
 willing to  keep  you  waiting  for  a  single 
 moment." 
 
 Reader,  are  you  yet  far  from  home, — 
 God's  home  of  love  and  holiness  ?  Ee- 
 member,  then,  the  door  is  open  (Ps. 
 Ixxxvi,  5;  Isa.  i,  18).  O!  enter  in  at 
 once.  Anon. 
 
 MEECY— Excellency  of. 
 
 Mercy  is  twice  blessed  ; — 
 It  ble-^seth  him  that  gives  and  him  that 
 
 takes. 
 'Tis  mightiest 'in  the  mighty  ;  it  becomes 
 The    throned    monarch    better  than    his 
 
 crown. 
 His  sceptre  shows  the  source  of  temporal 
 
 power, 
 The  attribute  of  awe  and  majesty. 
 Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of 
 
 kings ; 
 But  mercy  is  above  the  sceptred  sway  ; 
 It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings  ! 
 It  is  an  attribute  of  God  himself  ! 
 And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest 
 
 God's 
 When  mercy  seasons  justice.    Shakespeare. 
 
 MEUCY— F.-ee. 
 
 Let  me  tell  thee  that  the  mercy  of  God 
 flows  freely.  It  wants  no  money  and  no 
 price  from  thee,  no  fitness  of  frames  and 
 feolhigs,  no  preparation  of  good  works  or 
 penitence.  Free  as  the  brook  which 
 leaps  from  the  mountain  side,  at  which 
 every  weary  traveller  may  drink,  so  free  is 
 the  incrcy  of  God.     Free  as  the  sun  that 
 
 shineth,  and  gilds  the  mountain's  brow, 
 and  makes  glad  the  valleys  without  fee  or 
 reward,  so  free  is  the  mercy  of  God  to 
 every  needy  sinner.  Free  as  the  air  which 
 belts  the  earth  and  penetrates  the  peasant's 
 cottage  as  well  as  the  royal  palace  without 
 pui-chase  or  premium,  so  free  is  the  mercy 
 of  God  in  Christ.  It  tarrieth  not  for 
 thee ;  it  cometh  to  thee  as  thou  art.  It 
 waylayeth  thee  in  love ;  it  meeteth  thee 
 in  tenderness.  Ask  not  how  thou  shalt 
 get  it.  Thou  needest  not  climb  to  heaven, 
 nor  descend  to  hell  for  it;  the  word  is 
 nigh  thee ;  on  thy  lip,  and  in  tliy  heart ; 
 if  thou  believest  on  the  Lord  Jesus  with 
 thy  heart,  and  with  thy  mouth  makest 
 confession  of  Him,  thou  shalt  be  saved. 
 
 C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 MERCY— God's  Delight  in. 
 
 God  delights  not  so  much  in  the  exercise 
 of  His  power,  as  of  His  mercy  and  justice, 
 which  partakes  of  both  the  other ;  for 
 mer(ty  is  His  paradise  and  garden,  in  which 
 He  descends  to  walk  and  converse  with 
 man  ;  power,  his  army  and  arsenal,  by 
 which  he  protects  and  overthrows;  justice, 
 His  exchequer,  where  he  preserves  His  own 
 dignity,  and  exacts  our  forfeitures. 
 
 Venning. 
 MERCY— Great. 
 
 "  As  high  as  the  heavens  are  above  the 
 earth,  so  high  are  His  thoughts  above  your 
 thoughts,  and  His  ways  above  your  ways." 
 Your  sin  is  of  great  measm-e,  but  there  is 
 no  measure  to  His  grace.  His  mercy  is  so 
 great  that  it  forgives  great  sins  to  great 
 sinners,  after  great  lengtlis  of  time,  and 
 then  gives  great  favours  and  great  privi- 
 leges, and  raises  us  up  to  great  enjoyments 
 in  the  great  heaven  of  the  great  God.  As 
 John  Bunyan  well  says,  "  It  must  be  great 
 mercy  or  no  mercy,  for  little  mercy  will 
 never  serve  my  turn."  Dost  thou  feel 
 that,  burdened  conscience,  dost  thou  feel 
 that  ?  In  God  there  is  great  mercy  for  the 
 harlot,  for  the  drunkard,  for  the  thief,  for 
 the  whoremonger,  for  the  adidterer,  and 
 such  like.  Here  is  great  mercy,  which, 
 like  a  great  flood  bursting  upwards,  shall 
 cover  the  highest  mountains  of  your  sins. 
 
 C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 MERCY— Greatness  of. 
 
 Had  not  the  milder  hand  of  mercy  broke 
 The  furious  violence  of  that  fatal  stroke 
 OH'ended  justice  struck,  we  had  been  quite 
 Lost  in  the  shadows  of  eternal  night. 
 Thy  mercy.  Lord,  is  like  the  monung  sun. 
 Whose  beams  undo  what  sable  night  had 
 
 done ; 
 Or,   like  a  stream,  the  current  of  whose 
 
 course, 
 Re'-.trained   awhile,    runs   with   a   swifter 
 
 force, 
 
MERCY. 
 
 591 
 
 Oh !    let  me  glow   beneath   those  sacred 
 
 beams, 
 After  bathe  me  in  those  silver  streams ; 
 To  Thee  alone  my  sorrows  shall  appeal ; 
 Hath  earth  a  wound  too  hard  for  heaven 
 
 to  heal  ?  Quarles. 
 
 MERCY— Impartial. 
 
 The  sun  is  the  eye  of  the  world ;  and  he 
 is  indifferent  to  the  negro  or  the  cold 
 Russian;  to  them  that  dwell  under  the 
 line,  and  them  that  stand  near  the  tropics 
 — the  scalded  Indian,  or  the  poor  boy 
 that  shakes  at  the  foot  of  the  Riphean 
 hills ;  so  is  the  mercy  of  God.    £j).  Taylor. 
 
 Saving  mercy  is  for  all.  She  turns  not 
 aside  from  the  foulest,  blackest,  most  des- 
 picable wretch,  that  seeks  her  favour. 
 Like  the  wind  that  kisses  the  cheek  of  the 
 poorest  traveller  as  readily  as  the  richest ; 
 like  the  light  which  shines  into  the  cell  of 
 the  condemned  criminal  as  well  as  into 
 the  room  of  the  devout  Christian — mercy 
 is  free  for  all  who  will  open  their  arms  to 
 embrace  her.  The  harlot,  knocking  at  her 
 door,  may  have  a  smiling  welcome,  be 
 washed,  robed,  forgiven,  and  adopted, 
 while  the  proud  Pharisee  may  stand  with- 
 out in  profound  astonishment. 
 
 Joh7i  Bate. 
 MERCY— Manifold. 
 
 As  John  Bunyan  says,  all  the  flowers  in 
 God's  garden  are  double  ;  there  is  no  single 
 mercy ;  nay,  they  are  not  only  double 
 flowers,  but  they  are  manifold  flowers. 
 There  are  many  flowers  upon  one  stalk,  and 
 many  flowers  in  one  flower.  You  shall 
 think  you  have  but  one  mercy,  but  you 
 shall  find  it  to  be  a  whole  flock  of  mercies. 
 Our  beloved  is  unto  us  a  bundle  of  myrrh, 
 a  cluster  of  camphire.  When  you  lay  hold 
 upon  one  golden  link  of  the  chain  of  grace, 
 you  pull,  pull,  pull,  but  lo  !  as  long  as  your 
 hand  can  draw  there  are  fresh  "  linked 
 sweetnesses"  of  love  still  to  come.  Mani- 
 fold mercies  !  Like  the  drops  of  a  lustre, 
 which  reflect  a  rainbow  of  colours  when 
 Sie  sun  is  glittering  upon  them,  and  each 
 one,  when  turned  in  dlfl'erent  ways,  from 
 its  prismatic  form,  shows  all  the  varieties 
 of  colour,  so  the  mercy  of  God  is  one  and 
 yet  many,  the  same,  yet  ever  changing,  a 
 combination  of  all  the  beauties  of  love 
 blended  harmoniously  together. 
 
 C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 MERCY— Patient. 
 
 When  Alexander  encamped  before  a 
 city,  he  used  to  set  up  a  light,  to  give 
 notice  to  those  within  that  if  they  came 
 forth  to  him  while  that  light  lasted,  they 
 should  have  quarter  ;  if  otherwise,  no 
 mercy  was  to  be  expected.  But  such  is 
 the  mercy  and  patience  of  God  to  sinners, 
 that  He  sets  up  light  after  light,  and  waits 
 
 year  after  year.  When  they  have  done 
 their  worst  against  Him,  then  He  comes 
 with  His  heart  full  of  love,  and  makes  a 
 proclamation  of  grace,  that,  if  now  at  last 
 they  will  accept  of  mercy,  they  shall  have 
 it.  C.  Buck. 
 
 MERCY— Plenitude  of. 
 
 It  is  His  free  compassion  to  cast  all  our 
 sins  into  the  depth  of  the  sea  (Micah  vii, 
 19).  Now,  the  sea,  by  reason  of  his  vast- 
 ness,  can  drown  as  well  mountains  as  mole- 
 hills ;  the  boundless  ocean  of  Gnd's  mercy 
 can  swallow  up  our  mightiest  sins  much 
 more.  It  is  His  merciful  power  to  blot  out 
 our  sins  as  a  cloud.  Now  the  strength  of 
 the  summer's  sun  is  able  to  scatter  the 
 thickest  fog,  as  well  as  the  thinnest  mist — 
 nay,  to  drive  away  the  darkest  midnight ; 
 the  irresistible  heat  of  God's  free  love, 
 shining  through  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
 upon  a  penitent  soul,  to  dissolve  to  nothing 
 the  desperatest  work  of  darkness,  and  most 
 horrible  sin,  far  more  easily.  But  this 
 mystery  of  mercy  and  miracle  of  God's  free 
 love  is  a  jewel  only  for  truly  humbled 
 souls.  Let  not  a  stranger  to  the  life  of 
 godliness  meddle  with  it.  Let  no  swine 
 trample  it  under  his  feet.  Bolton. 
 
 MERCY— Refusal  of. 
 
 Mercy  is  like  a  rainbow,  which  God  set 
 in  the  clouds  to  remember  mankind ;  it 
 shines  here  as  long  as  it  is  not  hindered, 
 but  we  must  never  look  for  it  after  it  is 
 night,  and  it  shines  not  in  the  outer  world. 
 If  we  refuse  mercy  here,  we  shall  have 
 justice  to  eternity.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 MERCY— Sovereign. 
 
 It  is  related,  that  during  the  first  few 
 days  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria,  then  a 
 girl  between  nineteen  and  twenty  years  of 
 age,  some  sentences  of  a  court-martial 
 were  presented  for  her  signature.  One 
 was  death  for  desertion.  A  soldier  was 
 condemned  to  be  shot,  and  his  death-war- 
 rant was  presented  to  the  queen  lor  her 
 signature.  She  read  it,  i)aused,  and  looked 
 up  to  the  ofiicer  wlio  had  laid  it  before  her, 
 and  said,  "  Have  you  nothing  to  say  in 
 behalf  of  this  man  ?"  "  Nothing ;  he  has 
 deserted  three  times,"  said  the  officer. 
 "  Think  again,  my  lord,"  was  her  reply. 
 "And,"  said  the  gallant  veteran,  as  he 
 related  the  circumstance  to  his  friends 
 (for  it  was  none  other  than  the  Duke  of 
 Wellingt(Jn),  "  seeing  Her  Majesty  so 
 earnest  about  it,  I  said,  '  He  is  certainly 
 a  had  soldier,  but  there  was  somebody  who 
 spoke  to  his  good  character,  and  he  may  be 
 a  good  man,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  con- 
 trary.' "  "  O,  thank  you  a  thousand  times  !" 
 exclaimed  the  youthful  queen  ;  and  hastily 
 writing,  "  Pardoned,"  in  large  letters,  on 
 
MEECY— MIND. 
 
 tlie  fatal  page,  she  sent  it  across  the  table 
 with  a  h;ind  trembling  with  eagerness  and 
 beautiful  emotion  !  Anon. 
 
 MERCY— Triumphant. 
 
 David,  after  his  victory  over  the  Philis- 
 tines, calls  Ziba  before  him,  and  asks  him, 
 whether  there  were  not  yet  any  man  left 
 of  the  house  of  Saul,  that  he  might  do 
 him  a  kindness  fir  Jonathan's  sake;  where- 
 upon they  presented  unto  him  Mephi- 
 bosheth,  a  poor,  lame,  impotent  man,  who 
 no  sooner  sees  the  king  but  falls  upon  his 
 face,  and  looks  upon  himself  as  a  dead  dog, 
 far  below  the  king's  favour.  "  No  matter," 
 says  the  king,  "  fear  not,  for  1  will  show 
 thee  kindness  for  Jonathan's  sake,"  &c. 
 And  thus  if  there  be  any  forlorn  Joseph, 
 that  is  fallen  into  the  pit  of  despair,  let 
 him  but  cast  up  his  eyes  to  the  hills,  from 
 whence  cometh  his  salvation,  and  God  will 
 show  His  mercy  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake. 
 If  there  be  any  lame,  impotent  Mephi- 
 bosheth — any  wounded  spirit — any  of  the 
 household  of  faith  that  is  distressed — God 
 will  inquire  after  them,  and  do  them  good 
 for  Christ  Jesu's  sake.  Spencer. 
 
 MEEEIHTENT— in  Students. 
 
 Merriment  is  often  as  a  froth,  and  mantleth 
 on  the  strong  mind; 
 
 And  note  thou  this  for  a  verity, — the  sub- 
 tlest thinker,  when  alone. 
 
 From  ease  of  thoughts  unbent,  will  laugh 
 the  loudest  with  his  fellows.     Tapper. 
 
 MIND— Abstraction  of. 
 
 Dr.  Samuel  West  of  New  England,  in 
 the  last  century,  was  a  man  of  profound 
 scriptural  knowledge ;  but  he  was  not  a 
 popular  preacher. 
 
 His  mind  was  so  absorbed  in  metaphysics, 
 that  he  would  continue  an  argument  with 
 his  pupils  from  Monday  morning  till  Satur- 
 day night,  and  on  the  next  Monday  morn- 
 ing take  up  the  thread  exactly  where  he 
 had  left  it.  No  wonder  his  attention  was 
 somewhat  abstracted  from  his  sermons  !  It 
 is  said  that  he  often  preached  the  same 
 discourse  week  after  week.  Upon  one  oc- 
 casion, his  daughter,  finding  the  people 
 were  very  weary  of  a  sermon  about  Zac- 
 cheus  in  the  tree,  turned  down  the  leaf 
 upon  a  new  text  and  left  the  Bible  open  on 
 his  desk  the  next  Sabbath.  Father  VVost, 
 unconscious  of  the  manceuvre,  preached  on 
 the  passage  she  had  pointed  out ;  every 
 Bentence  of  Scripture  was  so  lamiliar  to 
 his  memory,  that  preparation  was  unne- 
 cessary. 
 
 This  abstractedness  of  mind  naturally 
 made  him  very  peculiar  in  his  domestic 
 habits.  Innumerable  stories  are  told  of 
 his  eccentricities.  Among  other  things,  he 
 is  said  to  have  been  seen  going  to  mill  with 
 the  corn  on  his  own  back  while  he  led  the 
 
 horse.  Indeed,  nothing  could  exceed  his 
 awkwardness  in  all  the  common  affairs  of 
 life  ;  he  could  remember  nothing  except 
 what  was  contained  in  books.    Mrs.  Child. 
 
 MIND — Animal  and  Human. 
 
 The  animal  mind,  in  many,  if  not  in  all 
 its  lower  ranks,  is,  like  the  human  mind, 
 retentive  of  the  impressions  it  recei\es 
 through  the  senses  ;  this  we  cannot  doubt. 
 The  dream  of  the  dog,  which  we  m;\y  al- 
 most see  as  we  watch  his  nervous  sleep,  in- 
 dicates this  fact.  So  does  his  faculty — 
 and  that  of  other  domesticated  animals — of 
 acquiring  habits  show  it.  Retentiveness 
 of  the  recollection  of  places — remarkable  as 
 it  is  in  some  animals — can  be  understood 
 only  on  this  supposition.  But  in  the  infe- 
 rior orders  this  faculty  of  storing  percep- 
 tions completes  its  purpose  within  very 
 narrow  limits;  and  it  fails  to  develop  any 
 powers  of  mind  so  as  to  become  a  source  of 
 free  energy.  In  the  human  mind,  at  the  mo- 
 ment when  this  power  wakes  up  and  steps 
 forward  in  its  own  manner,  the  scene  changes 
 — the  phenomena  of  consciousness  take 
 quite  another  character ;  and  that  which  is 
 fortuitous,  as  well  as  that  which  is  bound 
 by  law,  gives  way  to  that  which  shows  its 
 relationship  to  a  determinative  principle. 
 ^_^  Isaac  Taylor. 
 
 From  a  cursory  view  of  the  animal  mind, 
 it  is  evident  that  its  elements  and  capa- 
 bilities correspond  with  the  places  and  pur- 
 poses which  the  Almighty  intended  them 
 to  fill  in  the  constitution  of  things.  Hence 
 you  find  a  diflerence  in  the  mind  of  the 
 horse  and  the  cow,  the  dog  and  the  bird, 
 &c.,  because  each  occupies  a  difl'erent  place, 
 and  is  made  for  a  diff"erent  purpose.  There 
 are  reasons  for  thinking  that  a  similar 
 difference  exists  in  human  mind.  But 
 there  is  a  chasm  between  the  two  in  the 
 places  which  they  occupy,  and  the  purposes 
 for  which  they  are  organized.  The  greatest 
 animal  mind,  under  the  most  accomplished 
 education,  cannot  equal  the  lowest  human 
 mind  in  its  most  uneducated  state. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 MIND— After  Death. 
 
 We  can  well  imagine  a  barrel  of  gun- 
 powder, or  any  other  combustible  sub-, 
 stance,  ceasing  to  exist,  as  such,  by  burning 
 or  exploding ;  but  that  its  whole  elements 
 should  not  continue  to  exist  in  a  different 
 state,  and  in  new  combinations,  appears 
 inconceivable.  We  cannot  follow  the 
 process  so  far  ;  we  can  form  no  conception 
 of  any  one  particle  that  once  is  ceasing 
 wholly  to  be.  How,  then,  can  we  form  any 
 conception  of  the  mind  which  we  know  to 
 exist  ceasing  wliolly  to  be  ?  It  is  an  idea 
 altogether  above  our  comprehension.  True, 
 we  no  longer,  after  the  body  is  dissolved, 
 
MIND. 
 
 perceive  the  mind ;  because  we  knew  it  by 
 the  senses.  We  only  were  aware  of  its 
 existence  in  others  by  its  effects  upon 
 matter,  and  had  no  experience  of  it  uncon- 
 nected with  the  body.  But  it  by  no 
 means  follows  that  it  should  not  exist, 
 merely  because  we  have  ceased  to  perceive 
 its  effects  upon  any  portion  of  matter. 
 
 Lord  Brougham. 
 MIND— after  Death. 
 
 Can  we  conceive  it  possible,  not  to  say 
 probable,  that  matter  should  outlive 
 mind? — that  the  body  should,  in  some 
 form  or  other,  maintain  its  existence  after 
 its  life  has  expired,  and  the  mind,  after  it 
 has  left  the  body,  cease  to  have  an  exist- 
 ence in  any  form  or  place  ? — that  the  mind 
 which  has  been  the  occasion  of  the  exist- 
 ence in  society  of  all  literature,  sciences, 
 arts,  &c.,  should  be  superseded  by  these  in 
 their  existence  ? — that  the  mind  which  has 
 produced  such  marvels  on  matter  and  with 
 it,  in  engineerings,  architecture,  manufac- 
 ture, endless  conformations  and  transfor- 
 mations, should  be  survived  by  these,  while 
 it  shall  sink  into  utter  oblivion  and  anni- 
 hilation ?  Can  we  conceive  of  such  a 
 thing  being  possible  ?  Has  mind  no  ex- 
 istence apart  from  the  expression  of  it  ? 
 It  were  as  easy  to  think  of  God's  mind 
 ceasing  to  exist  were  the  Bible  and  nature 
 destroyed  ?  Or  to  think  that  He  has  no 
 mind,  independent  of  its  expression  in  the 
 revelation  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  uni- 
 verse. John  Bate. 
 
 MIND— Definition  of. 
 
 Mind,  so  far  as  we  are  cognisant  of  it 
 by  our  individual  consciousness,  and  by 
 our  intercourse  with  those  like  ourselves, 
 and  by  observation  of  the  various  orders 
 of  animated  beings  around  us,  although  it 
 is  conjoined  with  an  animal  organization, 
 is  always  distinguishable  therefrom,  as  the 
 subject  of  intellectual  science.  But  when 
 we  attempt  to  describe  it,  we  can  do  so 
 only  as  if  it  were  one  with  that  animal 
 framework,  apart  from  which  we  have  no 
 direct  knowledge  of  it,  in  any  way,  or  in 
 any  single  instance. 
 
 Mind,  as  conjoined  with  an  animal  or- 
 ganization, is  that  which  lives,  not  merely 
 as  vegetable  structures  live ;  but  more 
 than  this,  for  it  is  related  to  the  outer 
 world  by  organs  of  sensation ;  it  moves, 
 and  it  moves  from  place  to  place  by  an 
 impulse  originating  within  itself;  and  it 
 has  also  a  consciousness,  more  or  less  dis- 
 tinct, of  its  own  existence  ;  that  is  to  say, 
 it  possesses,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  a 
 reflective  life ;  and  it  is  capable  of  enjoy- 
 ment and  of  suffering.  Isaac  Taylor, 
 
 MIND— Development  of. 
 
 All  effects  are  the  result  of  oroperties  or 
 
 susceptibilities  in  one  thing,  solicited  by 
 external  contact  with  those  of  others.  The 
 fire,  no  doubt,  may  smoulder  in  the  dull  ami 
 languid  embers;  it  is  when  the  external 
 breeze  sweeps  over  them  that  they  begin 
 to  sparkle  and  glow,  and  vindicate  the 
 vital  element  they  contain.  The  diamond 
 in  the  mine  has  the  same  internal  proper- 
 ties in  the  darkness  as  in  the  light ;  it  is 
 not  till  the  sun  shines  upon  it  that  it 
 flashes  on  the  eye  its  splendour.  Look  at 
 a  flower  of  any  particular  species ;  we  see 
 that  as  it  is  developed  in  connection  with 
 a  variety  of  influences — as  it  comes  suc- 
 cessively under  the  action  of  the  sun,  rain, 
 dew,  soil — it  expands  in  a  particular  man- 
 ner, and  in  that  only.  It  exhibits  a  cer- 
 tain configuration  of  parts,  a  certain  form 
 of  leaf,  a  certain  colour,  fragrance,  and  no 
 other.  We  do  not  doubt,  on  the  one  hand, 
 that  without  the  "  skiey  influences  "  these 
 things  could  never  have  been ;  or,  on  the 
 other,  tliat  the  flower  assumes  this  form  of 
 development,  and  this  alone,  in  virtue  of 
 its  internal  structure  and  organization. 
 But  both  sets  of  conditions  must  conspire 
 in  the  result. 
 
 It  is  much  the  same  with  the  mind. 
 That  it  possesses  certain  tendencies  and 
 faculties,  which,  as  it  develops  itself,  will 
 terminate  in  certain  ideas  and  sentiments, 
 is  admitted  ;  but,  apart  from  certain  ex- 
 ternal conditions  of  development,  those 
 sentiments  and  ideas  will,  in  ett'ect,  never 
 be  formed — the  mind  will  be  in  perpetual 
 slumber.  H.  Rogers. 
 
 MIND— Disciplined. 
 
 Unreflective  minds  possess  thoughts 
 only  as  a  jug  does  water,  by  containing 
 them.  In  a  disciplined  mind  knowledge 
 exists  like  vital  force  in  the  physical  frame, 
 ready  to  be  directed  to  tongue,  or  hand,  or 
 foot,  hither,  thither,  anywhere,  and  for  any 
 use  desired.  S.  Coley. 
 
 MIND— a  Diseased. 
 
 Canst  thou  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased ; 
 Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow ; 
 Raze  out  the  written  tablets  of  the  brain  ; 
 Cleanse  the  foul  bosom  of  that  perilous 
 
 stuff 
 Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ? 
 
 ShaJcespeare. 
 MIND— Exercise  of  the. 
 
 As  our  bodies,  to  be  in  health,  must  be 
 generally  exercised,  so  our  minds,  to  be  in 
 health,  must  be  generally  cultivated.  You 
 would  not  call  a  man  healthj'  who  had 
 strong  arms,  but  was  paralytic  in  his  feet; 
 nor  one  who  could  walk  well,  but  had  no 
 use  of  his  hands;  nor  one  who  could  see 
 well,  if  he  could  not  hear.  You  would  not 
 voluntarily  reduce  your  bodies  to  any  such 
 partially  developed  state.  Much  more, 
 .<t8 
 
59 1 
 
 MIND. 
 
 then,  you  would  not,  if  you  could  help  it, 
 reduce  your  minds  to  it.  Now,  your  minds 
 are  endowed  with  a  vast  number  of  gifts 
 of  totally  diit'erent  uses — limbs  of  mind  as 
 it  wei'e,  which,  if  you  don't  exercise,  you 
 cripple.  One  is  curiosity ;  that  is,  a  gift, 
 a  canacity  of  pleasure  in  knowing,  which 
 if  you  destroy,  you  make  yourselves  cold 
 and  dull.  Another  is  sympathy;  the 
 power  of  sharing  in  the  feelings  of  living 
 creatures,  which  if  you  destroy,  you  make 
 yourselves  hard  and  cruel.  Another  of 
 your  limbs  of  mind  is  admiration  ;  the 
 power  of  enjoying  beauty  or  ingenuity, 
 wliich  if  you  desti'oy,  you  make  yourselves 
 base  and  irreverent.  Another  is  wit ;  or 
 tlie  power  of  playing  with  the  lights  on  the 
 many  sides  of  truth,  which  if  you  destroy, 
 you  make  yourselves  gloomy,  and  less  use- 
 ful and  cheering  to  others  than  you  might 
 be.  So  that  in  choosing  your  way  of  woi-k 
 it  should  be  your  aim,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
 bring  out  all  these  faculties,  as  far  as  they 
 exist  in  you  ;  not  one  merely,  nor  another, 
 ])ut  all  of  them.  And  the  way  to  bring 
 them  out,  is  simply  to  concern  yourselves 
 attentively  with  the  subjects  of  each 
 faculty.  To  cultivate  sympathy  you  must 
 be  among  living  creatures,  and  thinking 
 about  them  ;  and  to  cultivate  admiration, 
 you  must  be  among  beautiful  things  and 
 looking  at  them.  J.  EnsJcin. 
 
 MIND— Fleshly. 
 
 Tlie  fleshly  mind  regards  nothing  but 
 flesh,  and  never  rises  above  the  outward 
 mutter,  but  always  creeps  up  and  down, 
 like  shadows,  upon  the  surface  of  the 
 earth;  and  if  it  begins,  at  any  time,  to 
 make  any  faint  essays  upwards,  it  pre- 
 sently finds  itself  laden  with  a  weight  of 
 sensuality  which  draws  it  down  again. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 MIND— Powers  of  the. 
 
 The  powers  of  the  mind  are  like  the 
 stars,  they  do  not  always  shine  equally 
 brilliant  and  striking ;  sometimes  clouds 
 may  cover  them  for  a  time  altogether  ;  at 
 otiier  times  intermittent  clouds  may  pass 
 over  them;  a  heavy  atmosphere  at  other 
 times  may  attect  them  ;  seldom,  in  this 
 climate,  do  they  shine  in  their  full  glory. 
 lUit,  shine  or  no  shine,  the  stars  are  still 
 tiiere.  John  Bate. 
 
 MIND— Spiritual, 
 
 A  spiritual  mind  is  one  to  wliich  the 
 Bible  is  something  better  than  a  dictionary, 
 and  to  which  the  Sabbath,  with  its  ex- 
 ercises, does  notbring  thescnse  of  drudgery. 
 It  is  a  mind  clear-seeing  and  keen-hearing  ; 
 a  mind  of  quick  perceptions  and  prompt 
 cniotions ;  a  mind  to  which  the  Saviour 
 stands  out  a  living  person,  and  for  which 
 heaven  is  waiting,  an  expected  home;  a 
 
 mind  so  sensitive,  that  sin  makes  it  writhtt 
 with  agony,  whilst  it  finds  holiness  a  true 
 deliciousness,  and  in  God's  conscious  ftivoiir 
 an  elevating  joy.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 MIND— Teachable. 
 
 A  teachable  mind  will  hang  about  a  wise 
 man's  neck,  and  thereby  they  come  to 
 cleave  and  cling  as  fast  together  as  the 
 soul  of  Jonathan  did  unto  the  soul  of 
 David.  Bp.  PatricJc. 
 
 MIND— Thinking. 
 
 Better  than  gold  is  a  thinking  mind, 
 
 That  in  realms  of  thought  and  books  can 
 
 find 
 A  treasure  surpassing  Peruvian  ore, 
 And  live  with  the  great  and  good  of  yore. 
 The  sage's  lore  and  the  poet's  lay, 
 I'he  glorie-?  of  empires  passed  away, — 
 Wlio  the  world's  great  roll  can  thus  unfold. 
 Enjoys  a  pleasure  better  than  gold. 
 
 Anon. 
 MIND— Varieties  of. 
 
 There  is  originally,  no  doubt,  every  ima- 
 ginable variety  in  the  intellects  of  men. 
 Educate  any  two  minds  precisely  the  same 
 — submit  them  to  the  same  discipline,  and 
 store  them  equally  with  knowledge,  and 
 each  will  show  its  own  peculiar  idiosyn- 
 crasy. The  reasonings  of  the  two  from 
 the  same  facts,  and  their  conclusions  from 
 the  same  premises,  would  in  no  two  cases 
 be  the  same.  There  is  as  great  a  diversity 
 of  talents,  taste  and  genius,  as  there  are 
 individual  minds. 
 
 It  would  be  quite  impossible  to  enume- 
 rate the  various  capacities  and  capabilities 
 of  the  human  mind,  even  in  its  original 
 state,  before  we  come  to  the  yet  more  re- 
 markable diversities  which  have  been  pro- 
 duced by  education,  habit,  and  society. 
 To  describe  the  latter  would  be  to  enume- 
 rate all  the  endlessly  varied  attributes  and 
 proclivities  of  all  the  minds  of  the  entire 
 race — all  their  various  capacities,  disposi- 
 tions and  capabilities. 
 
 While  all  human  minds  are  essentially 
 alike,  each  presents  its  specific  varieties, 
 which  we  may  call  its  taste,  talents,  or  pro- 
 clivities. One  has  a  talent  for  the  acquisition 
 and  correct  use  of  language.  An  inaccu- 
 racy in  grammar  would  disturb  such  a  one 
 more  than  a  deficiency  of  sense.  Another 
 has  a  logical  mind — is  argumentative,  nice 
 and  accurate  in  its  definitions  and  distinc- 
 tions, and  given  to  reasoning,  and  takes 
 nothing  for  granted.  One  mind  delights 
 in  research. — is  always  digging — searching 
 after  things  abstruse  or  hidden — tracing 
 all  things  back  to  their  origin,  and  never 
 satisfied  even  with  the  fairest  fabric  unless 
 it  <au  see  the  lowest,  rudest  foundation 
 stone.  Another  takes  in  things,  as  it  were, 
 by  absorption — gathers  facts  as  by  intuition, 
 
miND. 
 
 505 
 
 and  jumps  at  conclusions  as  if  premises 
 U'ere  of  nothing  worth.  One  takes  the 
 sober,  serious,  matter-of-fact  view  of  things 
 and  contemplates  them  in  reference  to 
 their  utility  :  another,  at  first  view,  seizes 
 intuitively  only  on  the  ludicrous  aspects  of 
 a  subject,  and  contemplates  it  at  first  only 
 in  its  fitness  to  administer  to  his  amuse- 
 ment or  immediate  gratification  ;  only  on 
 second  thought  do  its  utilities  and  more 
 substantial  qualities  appear. 
 
 Again,  we  meet  with  the  huge,  solid, 
 cubic,  mathematical  mind,  where  all  must 
 be  demonstrated  by  figures.  Squares, 
 cubes,  triangles,  right  lines  and  equations, 
 are  as  essential  to  the  existence  and  health 
 of  such  a  mind  as  brick  and  mortar,  wood 
 and  stone,  are  to  the  master  builder.  With 
 him  nothing  is  right,  either  in  reason  or  in 
 fact,  if  it  be  not  mathematically  right. 
 Contrasted  with  this  is  the  poetic  mind, 
 and  all  those  intellectual  tribes  that  write, 
 read,  and  live  in  the  great  world  of  fiction 
 and  romance.  To  the  one,  reason  and  reality 
 are  everything.  To  the  other,  the  world 
 and  all  that  is  therein  are  ideal.  They 
 live  in  a  world  that  has  no  existence ;  they 
 move  about  among  beings  that  are  but  the 
 creiitures  of  their  own  fancy.  They  laugh 
 at  their  own  spectres ;  weep  over  sorrows 
 that  never  were;  rejoice  and  sympathise 
 with  friends  and  hate  enemies  which  belong 
 to  a  world  that  nowhere  is. 
 
 Some  minds  are  so  constructed  that  they 
 first  see,  and  longest  contemplate,  only  the 
 dark  side  of  an  object,  or  of  life;  others 
 seize,  as  by  intuition,  on  the  bright  features; 
 laugh  when  and  where  they  can,  and  leave 
 the  dark  features  to  lower  and  brew  the 
 storm,  till  some  propitious  sun  arise  and 
 chase  away  the  darkness  and  all  become 
 light  together.  Some  minds  are  naturally 
 aspiring,  grasping  after  great  things,  and 
 pos.-icssed  of  an  immense  scope  of  compre- 
 hension. They  aspire  to  a  knowledge  of 
 all  sciences.  They  grasp  to  know  all  in 
 this  world,  and  fain  would  compass  in  their 
 knowledge  all  things  in  all  the  worlds  that 
 sparkle  in  the  vast  universe.  Other  minds 
 are  as  naturally  drivelling  and  grovelling. 
 Low  vulgar  things  and  thoughts  are  the 
 congenial  occupants  of  such  a  soil. 
 
 Some  minds,  again,  are  naturally  _pAz7o- 
 sophical.  They  are  for  ever  searching  into 
 the  properties  of  bodies,  and  the  causes  of 
 events,  and  the  reasons  of  things.  They 
 take  nothing  on  trust,  and  scarcely  know 
 whether  any  thing  is  what  it  appears  to  be. 
 They  must  know  its  nature,  not  only  its 
 nature  as  a  compound,  but  they  are  not 
 content  till  they  have  traced  each  compo- 
 nent part  down  to  its  infinitesimal  atoms, 
 or  primordial  particles,  a  million  of  which 
 are  said  not  to  be  larger  than  a  grain  of 
 sand.  Others  never  feel  any  promptings 
 to  go  beyond  the  surface  of  things,  and 
 
 never  care  to  know  whether  an  effect  has 
 a  cause,  or  a  compound  any  component 
 parts. 
 
 In  contrast  with  this,  taste,  graceful  in- 
 mate of  the  human  breast,  is  beautifully 
 prolific  of  illustrations  to  our  purpose. 
 Variety  in  taste  itself  is  proverbial.  Love 
 of  variety  is  one  of  the  strongest  as  well  as 
 the  most  common  elements  of  the  human 
 mind.  The  fact  is  too  obvious  to  require 
 comment — the  field  too  broad  for  illustra- 
 tion. Yet  we  may  allude  to  the  singular 
 productiveness  of  this  variety -loving  taste. 
 The  strong  innate  passion  is  constantly 
 and  infinitely  embodying  itself  in  some 
 way  in  nature ;  thus  multiplying  variety 
 beyond  all  conception.  It  originates  va- 
 riety in  food,  dress,  pursuits,  enjoyments. 
 How  it  variegates  the  fabrics  which  cover 
 and  adorn  our  persons — which  load  our 
 tables,  and  minister  to  our  ten  thousand 
 gratifications. 
 
 As  a  singular  illnstration  of  the  number- 
 less instances  which  may  occur  to  the 
 curious  mind,  I  may  allude  to  one  where 
 we  should  scarcely  expect  taste,  with  her 
 most  delicate  tread,  to  intrude.  It  is 
 taste  in  the  colour  of  mourning  dress.  In 
 Western  Europe  and  America  hlacJc  only 
 accords  with  the  sombre,  lugubrious  feeling 
 of  the  lacerated  heart.  The  Chinese,  the 
 Japanese,  the  Siamese,  select  ivhite  for  the 
 same  purpose  ;  the  Turks,  hlue  and  violet ; 
 the  Ethiopians,  gray ;  the  Peruvians 
 mouse  colour;  the  Persians,  hrown ;  the 
 Egyptians,  yellow. 
 
 Other  varieties  of  mental  structure  and 
 furniture  appear  in  connection  with  memory, 
 imagination,  self-reliance,  trust  and  sus- 
 picion, belief  and  scepticism.  Memory  is 
 a  curious  commodity,  and  jierhaps  no 
 faculty  of  the  mind  presents  more  interest- 
 ing diversities  in  its  exercise.  Not  only 
 is  there  every  variety  as  to  strength  and 
 retentiveness  of  memory — from  thememory 
 that  almost  literally  retains  everything  that 
 was  ever  committed  to  it,  to  the  memory 
 that  almost  as  literally  retains  nothing — 
 but  there  is  a  variety  in  quality  quite  strik- 
 ing. Some  have  a  remarkable  memory 
 for  names;  others  for  figures,  dates,  and 
 dry  statistics.  These  latter  may  forget 
 their  own  children's  names,  yet  give  you 
 correctly  the  year  and  day  on  which  Tom 
 Thumb  was  born,  or  the  year  and  day  on 
 which  their  grandfather  sold  the  old  horse  j 
 while  others  can  scarcely  remember  an 
 isolated  fact  at  all,  yet  can  call  up  almost 
 anything  by  association. 
 
 Some  men  are  naturally  self-reliant,  ex- 
 pecting aid  only  through  their  own  re- 
 sources and  exertions.  They  are  the  bold, 
 the  industrious,  enterprising,  and  the 
 finally  successful.  Others  are  as  naturally 
 timid,  distrustful  of  self,  and  dependent  on 
 others.     In  like  manner,  one  claas  is  trust- 
 
596 
 
 MIND— MINISTER. 
 
 ful,  confiding,  eai3y  to  believe — perhaps 
 credulous.  Such  are  neither  capricious  nor 
 suspicious.  Another  has  a  strange  pro- 
 clivity to  question,  cavil,  suspect,  and  to 
 slide — if  not  to  plunge — into  scepticism 
 and  final  infidelity. 
 
 Or  we  might  refer  to  aptitudes  of  mind 
 and  diversities  of  genius,  and  we  should 
 have  illustrations  in  point.  Here  we  meet 
 a  mechanical  genius — there  a  talent  for 
 husiness,  or  an  aptitude  to  teach — or  "a 
 musical  talent "  and  taste.  Then  there  are 
 minds  that  are  always  on  the  wing  of  ad- 
 venture, never  satisfied  to  be  circumscribed 
 within  the  boundaries  of  the  known,  but 
 for  ever  prying  and  plunging  into  the  un- 
 known— lovers  of  travel,  discovery  and  in- 
 vention— seekers  for  or  inventors  of  some 
 new  thing. 
 
 We  have  minds  that  lead,  and  minds  that 
 must  be  led  ;  minds  that  creep  and  minds 
 that  soar ;  minds  that  plunge  into  the 
 dark  and  carry  their  own  light  with  them  ; 
 and  minds  that  can  flourish  only  in  the 
 light  of  others ;  all  sorts  of  minds ;  and 
 none  so  low  or  small  that  is  not  filling  some 
 nook  or  corner,  or  chink,  or  crevice  in  the 
 great  world  of  thought  and  activity ;  and 
 none  so  high  and  comprehensive  that  it 
 does  not  find  a  field  of  action  fitted  to  its 
 scope  and  magnitude,  and  which  is  not 
 subserving  the  great  ends  of  humanity. 
 
 Read. 
 MIND— Weak  and  Strong. 
 
 A  weak  mind  sinks  under  prosperity,  as 
 well  as  under  adversity.  A  strong  mind 
 has  two  highest  tides,  when  the  moon  is 
 at  the  full,  and  when  there  is  no  moon. 
 
 Hare. 
 MINDS— Great. 
 
 As  islands  stand  in  grand  solitude  in  the 
 midst  of  swelling  seas,  so  great  minds 
 dwell  alone  amid  the  crowds  of  little  souls 
 which  fill  the  circles  of  life. 
 
 A  great  mind,  like  a  great  ship,  cannot 
 move  in  shallow  water.  Give  it  sea  depth, 
 and  sea  room,  and  it  shall  bear  cargoes  to 
 serve  the  nations.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 MINDS— Scarce. 
 
 Few  minds  are  sun-like,  sources  of  light 
 to  themselves  and  to  others.  Many  more 
 are  moons  that  shine  with  a  derivative  and 
 reflected  light.  Among  the  tests  to  dis- 
 iinguish  them  is  this ;  the  former  are 
 "♦ways  full,  the  latter  only  now  and  then, 
 when  their  suns  are  shining  full  upon 
 them.  Sare. 
 
 MINISTER— Character  of  a. 
 
 A  minister's  character  is  the  lock  of 
 his  strength,  and  if  once  this  is  sacrificed, 
 he  is,  like  Samson  shorn  of  his  hair,  a  poor, 
 feeble,  faltering  creature,  the  pity  of  his 
 friends,  and  the  derision  of  his  enemies.  I 
 would  not  have  bad  ministers  screened,  nor 
 
 would  I  have  good  ones  maligned.  When 
 a  preacher  of  righteousness  has  stood  in 
 the  way  of  sinners,  and  walked  in  the 
 counsel  of  the  ungodly,  he  should  never 
 again  open  his  lips  in  the  great  congrega- 
 tion until  his  repentance  is  as  notorious  as 
 his  sin.  But  while  his  character  is  un- 
 sullied, his  friends  should  preserve  it  with 
 as  much  care  against  the  tongue  of  the 
 slanderer  as  they  would  his  life  against 
 the  hand  of  the  assassin.  When  I  con- 
 sider the  restless  malignity  of  the  great 
 enemy  of  God  and  holiness,  and  add  to  this 
 his  subtlety  and  craft ;  when  I  consider 
 how  much  his  malice  would  be  gratified 
 and  his  schemes  promoted  by  blackening 
 the  character  of  the  ministers  of  the  Gos- 
 pel ;  when  I  consider  what  a  multitude  of 
 creatures  there  are  who  are  his  vassals,  and 
 under  his  influence,  creatures  so  destitute 
 of  moral  principle,  and  so  filled  with  ve- 
 nomous spite  against  religion,  as  to  be 
 prepared  to  go  any  lengths  in  malign- 
 ing the  righteous,  and  especially  their 
 ministers,  I  can  account  for  it  on  no  other 
 ground  than  that  of  a  special  interposition 
 of  Providence,  that  the  reputation  of 
 Christian  pastors  is  not  more  frequently 
 attacked  by  slander  and  destroyed  by 
 calumny.  But  probably  we  see,  in  this  as 
 in  other  cases,  that  wise  arrangement  of 
 Providence  by  which  things  of  delicacy 
 and  consequence  are  preserved,  by  calling 
 forth  greater  solicitude  for  their  safety. 
 Church  members  should,  therefore,  be 
 tremblingly  alive  to  the  importance  of  de- 
 fending their  minister's  character.  They 
 should  neither  expect  to  see  him  perfect, 
 nor  hunt  after  his  imperfections.  When 
 they  cannot  but  see  his  imperfections — 
 imperfections  which,  after  all,  may  be 
 consistent  with  not  only  real  but  eminent 
 piety — they  should  not  take  pleasure  in 
 either  magnifying  or  looking  at  them,  but 
 make  all  reasonable  excuse  for  them,  and 
 endeavour  to  lose  sight  of  his  infirmities 
 in  his  virtues,  as  they  do  the  spots  of  the 
 sun,  amid  the  blaze  of  radiance  with  which 
 they  are  surrounded.  J.  A.  James. 
 
 MINISTER— FaithftU. 
 At  church  with  meek  and  unaflfected  grace. 
 His  looks  adorned  the  venerable  place ; 
 Truth  from  his  lips  prevail'd  with  double 
 
 sway, 
 And  fools,  who  came  to  scoflT,  remained  to 
 
 pray.  Ooldsmith. 
 
 Such  vast  impressions  did  his  sermons  make, 
 He  always  kept  his  flock  awake.      JFolcot. 
 
 MINISTER— Faithless. 
 Most  guilty,  villanous,  dishonest  man  ! 
 Wolf  in  the  clothing  of  the  gentle  lamb  ! 
 Dark  traitor  in  the  Messiah's  holy  camp! 
 Leper  in  saintly  garb  !  assassin  masked 
 
MlilflSTER— MINISTEKS. 
 
 597 
 
 In  virtue's  robe  !  vile  hypocrite  accursed ! 
 I  strive  in  vain  to  set  liis  evil  forth ! 
 The  words  that  should  sufficiently  accurse 
 And  execrate  such  reprobate,  had  need 
 Cume  glowing  from  the  lips  of  eldest  hell. 
 Among  the  saddest  in  the  den  of  woe. 
 Thou  saw'st  him  saddest  'mong  the  damned 
 now  damned.  Pollock. 
 
 MINISTER— Living  for  others. 
 
 The  very  word  of  God  that  the  minister 
 studies  may  do  him  less  good  than  it  does 
 the  non-professional  reader.  Why  is  this  ? 
 I  take  my  Bible — my  heart  is  sad,  and  I 
 seek  some  precious  promise.  I  bend  over 
 the  page — uiy  heart  leans  for  a  moment  on 
 that  precious  passage :  "  Let  not  your 
 heart  be  troubled  ;  ye  believe  in  God ;  be- 
 lieve also  in  me.  In  my  Father's  house 
 are  many  mansions :  I  go  to  prepare  a 
 place  for  you,  and  if  I  go  and  prepare  a 
 place  for  you,  I  will  come  again  and  receive 
 you  unto  myself" — and  just  as  the  heart 
 is  beginning  to  grasp  the  sweetness  and  the 
 fitness  of  the  passage,  there  springs  up  the 
 tliought,  "  Tliat  will  be  a  fine  passage  to 
 unfold  to  my  conijresation,"  and,  ere  I  am 
 aware,  I  am  preparing  a  sermon  lor  my 
 people,  instead  of  resting  my  soul  upon  the 
 riches  of  the  promise.  Bp.  Simpson. 
 
 MINISTER— Portrait  of  a  True. 
 
 Come  in;  I  will  show  thee  that  which 
 may  be  profitable  to  thee.  So  he  com- 
 manded his  man  to  light  the  candle,  and 
 bid  Christian  follow  him ;  so  he  had  him 
 into  a  private  room,  and  bid  his  man  open 
 a  door,  the  wliich  when  he  had  done, 
 Christian  saw  the  picture  of  a  very  grave 
 person  hung  up  against  the  wall,  and  this 
 was  tlie  fashion  of  it : — It  had  eyes  lifted 
 up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  his 
 hand,  the  law  of  truth  was  v/ritten  upon 
 its  lips,  the  world  was  behind  his  back,  it 
 stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with  men,  and  a 
 crown  of  gold  did  hang  over  his  head. 
 Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 
 Interpreter :  The  man  whose  picture  this 
 is,  is  one  of  a  thousand;  he  can  beget 
 children  (1  Cor.  iv,  5),  travail  in  birth 
 with  children  (Gal.  iv,  19),  and  nurse  them 
 hims  If  when  they  are  born  (1  Tliess.  ii,  7). 
 And,  whereas  thou  seest  him  with  his  eyes 
 lifted  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in 
 his  hand,  and  the  law  of  trutli  writ  on  his 
 lips,  it  is  to  show  thee  that  his  work  is  to 
 know  and  unfold  dark  things  to  sinners, 
 even  as  also  thou  seest  him  stand  as  if  he 
 pleaded  with  men  ;  and  whereas  thou  seest 
 the  world  as  cast  behind  him,  and  that  a 
 crown  hangs  over  his  head,  that  is  to 
 show  thee  that  slighting  and  despising  the 
 things  that  are  present,  for  the  love  that 
 he  hath  to  his  Master's  service,  he  is  sure 
 in  the  world  that  comes  next  to  have  glory 
 for  his  reward.     Now,  said  the  Interpreter, 
 
 I  have  showed  thee  this  picture,  first,  be- 
 cause the  man  whose  jjicture  this  is,  is  the 
 only  man  whom  the  Lord  of  the  place 
 whither  thou  art  going  hath  authorised  to 
 be  thy  guide  in  all  difficult  places  thou 
 mayst  meet  with  in  the  way ;  wherefore, 
 take  good  heed  to  what  I  have  shovved 
 thee,  and  bear  well  in  thy  mind  what  thou 
 hast  seen,  lest  in  thy  journey  thou  meet 
 with  some  that  pretend  to  lead  thee  right, 
 but  their  way  goes  down  to  death. 
 
 Buni/an. 
 MINISTER— Wanting  a. 
 
 The  people  of  one  of  the  out-parishes  of 
 Virginia  wrote  to  Dr.  Rice,  then  at  the 
 Theological  Seminary  in  Prince  Edward, 
 for  a  minister.  They  wanted  a  man  of 
 first-rate  talents,  for  they  had  run  down 
 considerably,  and  needed  building  up. 
 They  wanted  one  who  could  tvrite  well,  for 
 some  of  the  young  people  were  nice  about 
 that  matter.  They  wanted  one  who  could 
 visit  a  good  deal,  for  their  former  minister 
 had  neglected  that,  and  they  wanted  to 
 bring  that  up.  They  wanted  a  man  of  very 
 gentiemanli/  deportment,  for  some  thought 
 a  great  deal  of  that.  And  so  they  went 
 on  describing  a  perfect  minister.  The  last 
 thing  mentioned  was,  they  gave  their  last 
 minister  £70;  but  if  the  doctor  would 
 send  tiiem  such  a  man  as  they  described, 
 they  would  raise  another  £10,  making  it 
 iSO.  The  doctor  sat  right  down  and 
 wrote  them  a  reply,  telling  them  they  hi;d 
 better  forthwith  make  out  a  call  for  old 
 Dr.  Dwight  in  heaven ;  for  he  did  not 
 know  of  any  one  in  this  world  who  an- 
 swered this  description  ;  and  as  Dr.  Dwight 
 had  been  living  so  long  on  spiritual  footl, 
 he  might  not  need  so  much  for  the  body, 
 and  possibly  he  might  live  on  £80. 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 MINISTERS— False. 
 
 God  never  made  ministers  as  false 
 to  make  bad  faces  look  fair ;   such  ma 
 themselves  guilty  of  other  men's  sins. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 Would  that  in  this  poor  world  we  could 
 have  the  gold  without  the  dross !  The 
 story  is  this — To  a  saint  who  was  praying, 
 the  evil  spirit  showed  himself  radiant  with 
 royal  robes,  and  crowned  with  a  jewelled 
 diadem,  and  said,  "  I  am  Christ — I  am 
 descending  on  the  earth — and  I  desired 
 first  to  manifest  myself  to  thee."  The 
 saint  kept  silence  and  looked  and  then 
 said,  "  I  will  not  believe  that  Christ  is 
 come,  save  in  that  state  and  form  in  which 
 He  suttered,  save  with  the  marks  of  the 
 wounds  of  the  Cross."  And  the  false 
 apparition  vanished.  The  application  is 
 this :  Christ  comes  not  in  pride  of  intel- 
 lect, or  reputation  for  ability.  These  are 
 the  glittering  robes  in  which  Satan  is  now 
 
598 
 
 MINISTERS. 
 
 arraying.  Many  spirits  are  abroad,  more 
 are  issuing  from  the  pit;  the  credentials 
 which  they  display  are  the  precious  gifts 
 of  mind,  beauty,  richness,  depth,  originality. 
 Christian,  look  hard  at  them  with  the  saint 
 in  silence — and  ask  them  for  the  print  of 
 the  nails.  Dr.  Hoivson. 
 
 MINISTERS— Holiness  in. 
 
 There  are  men  so  holy,  that  their  very 
 character  is  sufficient  to  persuade.  They 
 appear,  and  the  whole  assembly  which  is 
 to  hear  them  is,  as  it  were,  already  im- 
 pressed and  convinced  by  their  presence. 
 The  discourse  which  they  deliver  does  the 
 rest.  La  Bruyere. 
 
 And  yet  whatever  influence  may  be  pro- 
 duced by  the  holiness  of  the  preacher's 
 life — all  is  lost  if  he  seems  to  count  upon 
 it — if  he  makes  the  slightest  allusion  to  it. 
 Whatever  right  a  man  may  have,  accord- 
 ing to  a  proper  expression,  to  make  him- 
 self the  saint  of  his  sermon,  he  must  take 
 good  care  not  to  do  it.  Anon. 
 
 MINISTERS— Inconsistent. 
 
 The  lawyer  had  answered  directly  to 
 Christ's  demand,  therefore  Christ  com- 
 mends his  saying;  but  the  lawyer  had 
 not  done  so  well  as  he  had  spoken,  there- 
 fore Christ  doth  not  commend  his  doing; 
 so  the  words  of  many  are  commendable, 
 but  their  works  are  most  detestable.  If 
 you  come  to  their  sermons  you  shall  hear 
 them  speak  marvellous  well,  but  if  you 
 look  into  their  lives,  you  shall  find  them 
 far  differing  from  their  profession.  They 
 are  like  our  bells  which  can  call  the  people 
 together  to  the  service  of  God,  but  cannot 
 perform  any  service  to  God  ;  so  these  men 
 can  give  good  counsel  to  others,  but  can- 
 not follow  it ;  they  can  teach  the  people  to 
 know  the  will  and  pleasure  of  God,  but 
 they  go  not  about  to  do  the  will  of  God, 
 that  the  people  might  be  moved  by  their 
 example  to  do  the  same.         Henry  Smith. 
 
 MINISTERS— Names  of. 
 
 Ambassadors  for  Christ ;  Angels  of  the 
 Church ;  Apostles ;  Apostles  of  Jesus 
 Christ ;  Elders ;  Evangelists ;  Fishers  of 
 Men;  Labourers; 'Labourers  in  the  Gos- 
 pel of  Christ ;  Lights ;  Men  of  God  ;  Mes- 
 sengers of  the  Church  ;  Messengers  of  the 
 Lord  of  Hosts ;  Ministers  of  God ;  Minis- 
 ters of  the  Lord  ;  Ministers  of  Christ ; 
 Ministers  of  the  Sanctuary;  Ministers  of 
 the  Gospel;  Ministers  of  the  Word;  Min- 
 isters of  the  New  Testament ;  Ministers  of 
 the  Church;  Ministers  of  Righteousness; 
 Overseers;  Pastors;  Preachers;  Preachers 
 of  Righteousness ;  Servants  of  God ;  Ser- 
 vants of  the  Lord ;  Servants  of  Jesus 
 Christ ;  Servants  of  the  Church  j  Shep- 
 herds: Soldiers  of  Christ :  Stars:  Stewards 
 
 of  God ;  Stewards  of  the  Grace  of  God ; 
 Stewards  of  the  Mysteries  of  God;  Teachers; 
 Watchmen  j  Witnesses ;  Workers  together 
 with  God.  John  Bate. 
 
 MINISTERS— Peculiarities  of. 
 
 Dr.  John  Blair  Smith,  President  of 
 Union  College,  was  an  elegant  extempo-  . 
 raneous  preacher.  His  custom  was  to  hold 
 a  small  Bible  in  his  hand,  in  which  was 
 fixed  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he  would 
 bring  to  his  eye  at  each  new  turn  of  his 
 discourse. 
 
 One  day,  in  an  animated  burst  of  feeling, 
 his  thumb,  which  held  down  the  paper  to 
 its  place,  let  go  its  charge  and  the  fugitive 
 "  notes  "  sailed  away  on  the  breeze  to  the 
 broad  aisle.  The  doctor  very  quietly  tore 
 off  a  small  piece  of  newspaper  which  he 
 had  in  his  pocket,  put  it  under  his  thumb 
 aforesaid,  and  then  went  on  as  usual  with 
 his  sermon,  lifting  his  "  notes"  to  his  eye 
 as  before,  to  help  his  mental  motions, 
 much  to  the  amusement  of  some  of  the 
 spectators. 
 
 Dr.  .lames  Muir,  of  the  district  of 
 Columbia,  wrote  all  his  sermons,  and 
 recited  them  memoriter.  But  unless  the 
 manuscript  was  in  his  pocket  he  could  not 
 go  on  at  all,  though  he  never  used  it.  One 
 day,  having  left  it  at  home,  he  was  obliged 
 to  send  for  it  before  he  could  begin  the 
 recitation.  He  was  buried,  at  his  own 
 request,  in  a  grave  thirteen  feet  under  his 
 pulpit. 
 
 In  writing  sermons.  Dr.  Muir  was  in  the 
 habit  of  folding  the  requisite  amount  of 
 paper,  and  then  scattered  catchtcords  along 
 the  pages ;  after  which  he  would  proceed 
 to  fill  up  the  intervals  with  the  thoughts 
 which  he  had  already  carefully  studied  iu 
 his  own  mind. 
 
 Dr.  David  Porter  was  a  great  oddity.  A 
 Napoleon  head,  joined  by  a  short  neck 
 upon  a  very  portly  body,  which  stood  upon 
 a  pair  of  remarkable  spindle  legs,  cased  in 
 small-clothes  and  silk  hose,  was  the  striking 
 figure  of  as  uncommon  a  mind.  When 
 fairly  under  way  in  the  pulpit,  his  short, 
 terse  sentences,  jerked  out  with  a  nod  of 
 the  head  and  a  stamp  of  the  foot,  or  the 
 rap  of  his  cane,  which  he  sometimes  did  not 
 lay  aside,  even  in  preaching,  told  like  the 
 hitting  of  bullets.  In  the  lecture-room  he 
 would  not  only  traverse  the  platform,  but 
 at  times  descend  to  the  floor,  step  over  a 
 bench  to  some  open  space,  walk  there 
 awhile,  step  over  another  bench  and  get 
 back  to  the  desk  from  the  opposite  side, 
 and  all  the  while  carrying  on  his  discourse 
 without  a  break. 
 
 Dr.  Porter  was  very  absent-minded. 
 Praying  with  his  eyes  open,  as  was  his 
 habit,  at  a  "neighbouring  meeting,"  he 
 chanced  to  see  a  friend  just  arrived  in  the 
 company,  when,  to  the  surprise  of  every- 
 
MINISTERS— MIEACIIS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 body,  be  crossed  the  room  and  extended 
 his  band,  exclaiming  witb  a  voice  of  plea- 
 sure— "Oh!  bow  d'ye  do?"  not  seeming 
 aware  of  the  eccentric  movement. 
 
 Dr.  Sprague. 
 
 MINISTERS— as  Shepherds. 
 
 1.  Christian  ministers,  as  shepherds, 
 have  devolving  upon  them  the  care  of 
 Christ's  flock. 
 
 2.  Christian  ministers,  as  shepherds, 
 must  feed  their  flocks — (1)  In  the  pasture 
 of  the  Divine  Word;  (2)  In  the  pastures 
 of  the  Divine  ordinances. 
 
 3.  As  shepherds,  they  are  to  watch  over 
 their  flocks  ;  to  warn,  to  admonish,  to  re- 
 prove, to  rebuke. 
 
 4.  As  shepherds,  they  are  to  regard 
 especially  the  weak  and  the  afflicted  of  the 
 flock. 
 
 5.  As  shepherds,  they  are  to  give  an  ac- 
 count of  their  flocks  (1  Pet.  v,  4). 
 
 Br.  Burns. 
 
 MINISTERS— Sons  and  Daughters  of. 
 
 The  salaries  of  the  clergy  of  the  United 
 States  do  not  average  five  hundred  dollars 
 a  year,  and  yet,  as  a  class,  they  are  the 
 best  educated,  the  most  influential,  the 
 most  active,  refined,  and  elevated  of  the 
 nation.  With  less  culture,  with  less  cha- 
 racter, with  less  mental  power,  there  are 
 men,  all  over  the  land,  who  earn  from  one 
 to  five  thousand  dollars  a  year.  But  look 
 at  the  results.  Taking  them  as  they  come, 
 the  biographies  of  a  hundred  clergymen 
 who  have  families,  show  that,  of  their 
 sons,  110  became  ministers;  and  of  the 
 remainder  of  the  sons,  by  far  the  largei- 
 number  rose  to  eminence  as  professioual 
 men,  merchants  and  scholars. 
 
 As  to  the  daughters,  their  names  are 
 merged  into  others;  but  there  is  a  signi- 
 ficant fact,  which  we  do  not  remember  to 
 have  seen  noticed  in  that  connection,  that 
 not  only  here,  but  in  England,  where 
 titles  are  so  highly  prized,  and  the  posses- 
 sion of  "gentle  blood"  is  a  passport  to 
 high  places,  it  is  very  often  referred  to  as 
 a  matter  of  note,  as  indicating  safety  and 
 respectability — "  His  mother  was  a  daugh- 
 ter of  a  clergyman."  We  will  venture  the 
 opinion  that  three  fourths  of  the  great  men 
 of  this  nation  are  not  over  two  degrees  re- 
 moved from  clergymen's  families,  or  from 
 families  strictly  religious.  When  it  can  be 
 said  of  a  man  or  woman  that  their  father 
 or  grandfather  was  a  clergyman,  there  is  a 
 feeling  within  us  of  a  certain  elevation  of 
 character,  a  kind  of  guarantee  of  respect- 
 ability of  blood,  of  purity  and  integrity. 
 
 We  need  not  ask  if  the  history  of  any 
 other  hundred  families,  taken  as  they  come, 
 of  renowned  generals,  of  great  statesmen, 
 of  successlul  merchants,  ot  splendid  orators, 
 or  eminent  physicians  and  lawyers,  can  give 
 
 another  110  sons  to  occupy  positions  as  re- 
 spectable as  their  own.  Never,  nor  is  there 
 any  approach  to  it.  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 MIRACLE— Definition  of  a. 
 
 What,  then,  is  a  miracle  ?  It  is  a  super- 
 natural act,  an  act,  that  is,  which  operates 
 on  the  chain  of  cause  and  eflfect  in  nature, 
 from  without  the  chain,  producing  in  the 
 sphere  of  the  senses,  some  event  that  moves 
 our  wonder,  and  evinces  the  presence  of  a 
 more  than  human  power.  Observe  three 
 points.  1.  It  is  by  some  action  upon,  not 
 in,  the  line  of  cause  and  eflfect.  2.  It  is  in 
 the  sphere  of  the  senses,  for,  though  the 
 regeneration  of  a  soul  may  require  as  great 
 power  as  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  it  is  yet 
 no  proper  miracle,  because  it  is  no  sign  to 
 the  senses.  3.  It  must  be  understood  to 
 evince  a  superhuman  power,  otherwise  feats 
 of  jugglery  and  magic  would  be  miracles. 
 Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST— Classified. 
 
 I.  Miracles  of  Love. — 1.  Raising  the 
 dead ;  three  instances.  2.  Curing  mental 
 disease ;  six  instances.  3.  Healing  bodily 
 infirmities ;  eighteen  instances. 
 
 II.  Miracles  of  Poiver.—  l.  Creating; 
 two  instances  (the  two  cases  of  feeding  the 
 multitude).  2.  Destroying;  one  instance 
 (the  fig-tree).  3.  Setting  aside  the  ordi- 
 nary laws  of  being ;  seven  instances  (walk- 
 ing on  the  sea,  stilling  the  tempest,  chang- 
 ing water  into  wine,  passing  through  the 
 crowd,  the  two  draughts  of  fishes,  the  coin 
 in  the  fish's  mouth).  4.  Overawing  the 
 opposing  wills  of  men ;  three  instances 
 (clearing  the  temple  twice,  causing  the 
 soldiers  to  fall  backward). 
 
 Archbis7iop  Thomson. 
 
 MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST— Glory  of  the. 
 
 The  Divine  authority  of  the  .Jewish  law- 
 giver was  chiefly  seen  and  heard  in  thun- 
 derings  and  lightnings,  great  plagues  and 
 fearful  judgments — in  the  darkened  air, 
 and  the  flashing  firmament,  and  the  cor- 
 rupted waters,  and  the  divided  sea,  and 
 the  rending  earth,  and  the  devouring  fire, 
 and  lamenting  families,  and  armies  over- 
 whelmed, and  terror-stricken  nations;  so 
 that  most  emphatically  does  the  sacred 
 historian,  in  summing  up  the  cliaracter  of 
 Moses  as  a  worker  of  mirach^s,  declare 
 that  none  ever  equalled  him  "  in  all  that 
 mighty  baud,  and  in  all  that  great  terror, 
 which  he  showed  in  the  land  of  Egypt, 
 and  in  the  sight  of  all  Israel."  The  glory 
 of  our  Saviour's  miracles,  upon  the  other 
 hand,  is  of  a  different  kind,  and  better 
 suited  to  the  genius  of  His  dispensation. 
 He  gave,  indeed,  abundant  testimony  that 
 it  was  not  for  want  of  power  He  did  not 
 signalise  His  mission  by  signs  and  won- 
 ders in  the  style  of  those  pcrlbrmed  by 
 
MIEACLES  or  CHPvIST— MIRACLES. 
 
 Moses, — when,  for  example,  over  His  cross 
 the  sky  was  shrouded  with  a  pall  of  fu- 
 nereal darkness,  while  fierce  earthquakes 
 tore  the  flinty  rocks,  and  the  temple-vail 
 was  rent  asunder  by  an  unseen  hand,  and 
 the  buried  dead  arose  and  mingled  once 
 more,  mysterious  visitants,  among  the 
 haunts  of  men.  But  the  ch;iracteristic 
 tone  of  the  Kedeemer's  marvellous  works 
 was  of  another  and  more  benignant  kind. 
 The  mighty  Man  of  wonders,  by  whom 
 came  grace  and  truth,  "  went  about  doing 
 good."  Consolation  and  joy,  and  bright- 
 eyed  health,  attended  all  His  steps.  Mercy 
 went  before  His  face ;  and  at  His  heavenly 
 smile  diseases  vanished,  pain  expired,  fear 
 ceased  to  quiver,  sorrow  dried  her  tearful 
 countenance,  the  broken  heart  was  made 
 whole.  "When  the  ear  heard"  Him, 
 "then  it  blessed"  Him;  "and  when  the 
 eye  saw"  Him,  "  it  gave  witness  unto" 
 Him.  He  "  was  eyes  to  the  blind,  and 
 feet "  was  He  "  to  the  lame."  "  The  blessing 
 of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came 
 upon"  Him,  and  He  "  made  the  widow's 
 heart  to  sing  for  joy."        J.  B.  Fatterson. 
 
 MIEACLES  OE  CHEIST— not  Insulated. 
 
 And  when  we  thus  say  that  the  miracles 
 which  Christ  wrought  were  these  signs 
 and  tokens  of  a  redemption,  let  us  not 
 pause  here,  nor  contemplate  them  as  insu- 
 lated facts,  once  and  once  only  having  been, 
 but  rather  as  facts  pregnant  with  ulterior 
 consequences,  as  the  earliest  steps  of  a 
 series,  as  first  fruits  of  a  gracious  power, 
 which  did  not  stop  with  them,  but  has 
 ever  since  continued  to  unfold  itself  more 
 and  more.  What  Christ  once,  and  in  them, 
 wrought  in  iniensire  jjower.  He  works 
 evermore  in  extensive.  Once  or  twice  He 
 multiplied  the  bread,  but  evermore  in  Chris- 
 tian lands  famine  is  become  a  stranger; 
 a  more  startling,  because  a  more  unusual 
 thing — the  culture  of  the  earth  proceeding 
 with  surer  success  and  with  a  larger  return. 
 A  few  times  He  healed  the  sick,  but  in  the 
 reverence  for  man's  body  which  His  Gospel 
 teaches,  in  the  sympathy  for  all  forms  of 
 suffering  which  flows  out  of  it,  in  the  sure 
 advance  of  all  worthier  science  which  it 
 implies  and  ensures,  in  and  by  aid  of  all 
 thi>;,  these  miraculous  cures  unfold  them- 
 selves into  the  whole  art  of  Christian 
 medicine,  into  all  the  alleviations  and 
 removals  of  pain  and  disease,  which  are 
 so  rare  in  other,  and  so  frequent  in  Chris- 
 tian lands.  Once  He  quelled  the  storm  ; 
 but  in  the  clear  dominion  of  man's  spirit 
 over  the  material  universe  which  Chris- 
 tianity gives,  in  the  calm  courage  which 
 it  inspires,  a  lordship  over  the  winds  and 
 waves,  and  over  all  the  blind  uproar  of 
 nature,  is  secured,  whicli  only  can  again  be 
 lost  with  the  loss  of  all  the  spiritual  gifts 
 with  which  He   has   endued   His   people. 
 
 Who  does  not  feel  that  Paul  was,  de  facto, 
 admiral  in  that  great  tempest  upon  the 
 Adrian  sea  ?  ArcJibishoj}  Trench. 
 
 MIEACLES  OF  CHEIST— Eedemptive. 
 
 All  true,  heavenly  miracles  have  this 
 one  grand  feature;  they  have  a  redemp- 
 tive character;  they  go  to  counteract  and 
 reverse  the  effects  of  the  fall.  If  we  try 
 every  miracle  performed  by  our  Lord  by 
 this  test,  we  shall  find  it  stand.  When, 
 for  instance,  Jesus  healed  the  sick,  raised 
 the  dead,  and  cured  the  leprous,  He  rein- 
 stated the  subjects  of  these  diseases  in  the 
 place  in  which  they  were  meant  to  be 
 when  God  created  them,  and  pronounced 
 them  "  very  good."  Again,  when  He  fed 
 the  thousands  with  a  few  loaves  and  fishes, 
 He  gave  an  instalment  of  the  reversal  of 
 the  curse  of  barrenness,  which  fell  upon  the 
 whole  earth  when  man  was  sent  forth  from 
 Eden  to  water  it  with  his  tears,  and  fertilise 
 it  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  And  wheu 
 He  walked  upon  the  yielding  waves,  and 
 beckoned  to  the  obedient  winds,  and  the 
 former  slumbered  at  His  feet  like  gentle 
 babes,  and  the  latter  came  to  him  like  His 
 own  hired  servants.  He  then  showed  that 
 He  was  creation's  Lord,  about  to  retune 
 ci-eation's  tangled  strings,  and  bring  it 
 back  again,  like  an  jEolian  harp,  to  its 
 ancient  order  and  perfection,  when  God's 
 Spirit  shall  sweep  over  it,  and  bring  out 
 glorious  and  inexhaustible  melody.  You 
 find  in  all  Christ's  works  and  miracles,  the 
 stamp  of  the  Redeemer — the  evidence  of 
 redemptive  power — a  proof  that  a  new,  a 
 Divine,  beneficent  Being  is  touching 
 nature,  and  bringing  her  back  to  what  she 
 was.  So  with  many  things  that  we  see  ex- 
 isting now.  When  you  see  a  physician, 
 you  recognise  in  that  physician's  presence 
 a  testimony  that  sin  has  diseased  humanity, 
 and  in  him  the  standing  exponent  of  man's 
 convulsive  effort  to  bring  things  back  to 
 what  they  were.  And  the  day  will  come,  I 
 believe,  when  all  this  restoration  will  be 
 realised,  when  Christ  shall  speak  that 
 glorious  word  which  shall  make  the  desert 
 rejoice,  and  the  wilderness  blossom  as  the 
 rose ;  when  there  shall  be  no  more  sickness, 
 nor  sorrow,  nor  trial,  hut  the  former  things  ■ 
 shall  have  passed  away,  and  all  old  things 
 shall  have  become  new.  Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 MIEACLES— Use  of. 
 
 Miracles  are  the  midwives  of  young 
 moral  truths.  They  are  necessary  when 
 these  truths  are  children  in  men's  under- 
 standings, but  not  when  they  have  grown 
 up.  In  the  beginnings  of  the  world,  before 
 the  moral  sense  became  developed,  it  was 
 useful  to  act  upon  the  moral  sense  through 
 the  instrumentality  of  miracles.  But  as 
 men's  moral  sense  grows,  and  becomes 
 capable  of   appreciating   moral   evidence, 
 
MIRTH-MISSIOUARY  SOCIETIES. 
 
 601 
 
 miracles  cease  ; — as  tlie  nurse  in  the  house- 
 hold is  dispensed  with  when  the  child  is 
 grown  so  as  to  be  able  to  take  care  of 
 itself.  Miracles  are  like  candles  lit  up 
 until  the  sun  rises,  and  then  blown  out. 
 Therefore,  I  am  amused  when  I  hoar  sects 
 and  churches  talk  about  having  evidence  of 
 Divine  authority  because  they  have  mira- 
 cles. Miracles  in  our  time  are  like  candles 
 in  the  street  at  midday.  We  do  not  want 
 miracles.  They  are  to  teach  men  how  to 
 find  out  truths  themselves  ;  and  after  they 
 have  learned  this,  they  no  more  need  them 
 than  a  well  man  needs  a  stall",  or  than  a 
 grown-up  chikl  needs  a  walking- stool. 
 They  are  the  educating  expedients  of  the 
 early  periods  of  the  world.  As  such,  they 
 are  divinely  wise;  after  they  have  served 
 their  purpose  as  such,  it  is  humanly  foolish 
 for  persons  to  pretend  to  have  them.  There 
 is  no  teaching  in  Scripture  of  a  stated pro- 
 videtice  of  miracles.  They  are  not  daily 
 helps.  They  do  not  even  belong  to  the 
 mere  economic  relations  of  men.  In  secular 
 things  God  helps  the  men  that  help  them- 
 selves. S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 MIRTH— when  Sinful. 
 
 Mirth  is  sinful — 1.  When  men  rejoice  in 
 that  which  is  evil.  2.  When  unreason- 
 able. 3.  When  tending  to  commit  sin. 
 4.  When  a  hindrance  to  duty.  5.  When 
 it  is  blasphemous  and  profane.        C.  Buck. 
 
 MIRTH  AND  CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 Mirth  is  an  act,  but  cheerfulness  is  a 
 habit  of  the  mind ;  therefore,  the  latter  is 
 to  be  preferred  before  the  former ;  mirth  is 
 short  and  transient,  cheerfulness  fixed  and 
 permanent.  Those  are  often  raised  into  the 
 greatest  transports  of  mirth,  who  are 
 subject  to  the  greatest  depressions  of  me- 
 lancholy. On  the  contrary,  cheerfulness, 
 though  it  does  not  give  the  mind  an  ex- 
 quisite gladness,  yet  it  prevents  us  from 
 falling  into  depths  of  sorrow.  Mirth  is 
 like  a  flash  of  lightning,  which  breaks 
 through  a  gloom  of  clouds,  and  glitters  for 
 a  moment ;  but  cheerfulness  keeps  up  a 
 kind  of  daylight  in  the  mind,  and  fills  it 
 with  a  steady  and  perpetual  serenity. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 MISANTHROPIST— Aspiration  of  the. 
 O  send  me  to  some  lonely  desert  wild, 
 Wide  as  yon  bright  ethereal  expanse; 
 There  let  me  wander,  friendless  and  for- 
 lorn, 
 To  find  the  charitable  herd  of  beasts, 
 Driven   from   the    faithless  commerce   of 
 mankind.  Eavard. 
 
 MISANTHROPIST— Description  of  the. 
 
 He  is  a  man  who  avoids  society  only  to 
 free  himself  from  the  trouble  of  being  use- 
 ful to  it.     He  is  a  man  who  considers  his 
 
 neighbours  only  on  the  side  of  their  de- 
 fects, not  knowing  the  art  of  comt)ining 
 their  virtues  with  their  vices,  and  of  ren- 
 dering the  imperfections  of  other  peojile 
 tolerable  by  reflecting  on  his  own.  He  is  a 
 man  more  employed  in  finding  out  and  in- 
 flicting punishments  on  the  guilty,  than  in 
 devising  means  to  reform  them.  He  is  a 
 man  who  talks  of  nothing  but  banishing 
 and  executing  ;  and  who,  because  he  thinks 
 his  talents  are  not  suflniciently  valued  and 
 employed  by  his  fellow-citizens,  or  rather 
 because  they  know  his  foibles,  and  do  not 
 choose  to  be  subject  to  his  caprice,  talks  of 
 quitting  cities,  towns,  and  societies,  and  of 
 living  in  dens  or  deserts.  Saurin. 
 
 MISCONSTRUCTION— Effect  of. 
 
 The  following  ludicrous  fact  will  set  in  a 
 clear  point  of  view  how  interest  will,  at 
 times,  lead  a  man  into  misconstruction. 
 Some  few  years  ago,  an  eminent  London 
 bookseller  published  a  book  treating  on 
 the  human  frame,  under  the  title  '  On 
 Muscles,'  a  title  that  might  have  been 
 supposed  to  be  scarcely  liable  to  miscon- 
 ception by  any  one;  but  the  fact  proved  to 
 be  otherwise,  for  a  fishuKmger  who  had' 
 bought  the  book  came  in  a  terrible  temper 
 to  complain.  "  It  is  a  take  in,  sir  !  It  is  a 
 complete  take  in,"  said  he  in  a  very  angry 
 manner.  "  I  live  in  Uarkhouse  Lane,  and 
 gets  my  living  by  selling  fish ;  pickled  ;w«Mc/e* 
 in  particular.  T  bought  your  book  '  On 
 Muscles,'  thinking  it  would  give  me  a  hint 
 in  my  business.  Why,  it  is  nothing  about 
 muscles,  but  all  about  the  human  body ; 
 what  do  I  want  with  that  ?  It  is  a  com- 
 plete take  in,  and  you  have  no  right  to  act 
 in  that  way.  I  reckon  nothing  for  my 
 man's  time  in  sending  for  the  book,  but  I 
 expect  n\y  money  buck  again,  and  so  you 
 will  please  to  give  it  me."       Q.  Mogridge. 
 
 MISERY— Self-made. 
 
 Men  are  too  often  ingenious  in  making 
 themselves  miserable,  by  aggravating  to 
 their  own  fancy,  beyond  bounds,  all  the 
 evils  which  they  endure.  They  compare 
 themselves  with  none  but  those  whom 
 they  imagine  to  be  more  happy ;  and  com- 
 plain that  upon  them  alone  has  fallen  the 
 whole  load  of  human  sorrows.  "  I  will  re- 
 store thy  daughter  again  to  life,"  said  an 
 eastern  sage  to  a  prince  who  giieved  im- 
 moderately for  the  loss  of  a  beloved  child, 
 "  provided  thou  art  able  to  engrave  on  her 
 tomb  the  names  of  three  persons  who  have 
 never  mourned."  The  prince  made  incpiiry 
 after  such  persons  ;  but  found  the  inquiry 
 vain,  and  was  silent.  Anon. 
 
 MISSIONARY  SOCIETIES. 
 
 There  are  now,  1861,  22  Missionary 
 Societies  in  Great  Britain  :  14  in  North 
 America,   and    15    on   the    continent    of 
 
G02 
 
 MISSIONS— MODESTY. 
 
 Europe — in  all,  51.  These  employ,  in 
 rounil  numbers,  12,000  agents,  including 
 ordained  missionaries  (probably  2000), 
 teachers,  catechists,  &c. ;  occupy  1200 
 stations  ;  have  335,000  communicants  from 
 heathendom  ;  252,000  scholars ;  460  stu- 
 dents training  for  the  ministry  ;  and  are 
 supported  by  an  income  of  £860,000  per 
 annum. 
 
 The  greatest  results  have  been  attained 
 by  England.  Connected  with  her  great 
 poi'ieties,  there  are  nearly  7000  agents, 
 630  stations,  210,000  communicants, 
 208,000  scholars,  with  an  annual  income  of 
 £510,000.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 MISSIONS— Principle  of. 
 
 As  radii  in  a  circle  are  closest  near  the 
 centre,  and  towards  the  circumference  lie 
 more  widely  ap-.irt,  the  affections  of  a 
 human  heart  do  and  should  fall  thickest 
 on  those  who  are  nearest.  Expressly  on 
 this  principle  the  Christian  mission  was 
 instituted  at  first.  Love  in  the  heart  of 
 the  first  disciples,  was  recognised  by  Him 
 who  kindled  it,  to  be  of  the  nature  of  fire 
 or  light.  He  did  not  expect  it  to  fall  on 
 distant  places,  without  first  passing  through 
 intermediate  space.  From  Jerusalem,  at 
 His  command  and  under  the  Spirit's  minis- 
 try, it  radiated  through  Judea,  and  from 
 Judea  to  Samaria,  and  thence  to  the  ends 
 of  the  earth.  Ariiot. 
 
 MODERATION— a  Boundary. 
 
 The  boundary  of  man  is  moderation. 
 When  once  we  pass  that  pale  our  guar- 
 dian angel  quits  his  charge  of  us. 
 
 Feltham. 
 MODERATION— Excellency  of. 
 
 Moderation  is  the  centre  wherein  all, 
 both  Divine  and  moral,  philosophy  meet  ; 
 the  rule  of  life,  the  governess  of  manners, 
 the  silken  string  that  runs  through  the 
 pearl  chain  of  all  virtues,  the  very  ecliptic 
 line  under  which  reason  and  religion  move 
 without  any  deviation,  and  therefore  most 
 worthy  of  our  best  thoughts,  of  our  most 
 careful  observance.  £j).  Mall. 
 
 MODERATION— Wisdom  of. 
 
 Hamet  and  Raschid,  two  neighbouring 
 shepherds  of  India,  in  a  time  of  great 
 drought  made  a  request  each  of  the  Genius 
 of  Distrilnition.  Hamet  for  a  little  brook 
 which  would  never  dry  in  summer,  and  in 
 winter  never  overflow.  Immediately  the 
 Genius  caused  the  fountain  to  bubble  at 
 his  feet  and  scatter  its  rills  over  the  mea- 
 dows ;  the  flowers  i-enewed  their  fragrance, 
 the  trees  spread  a  greener  foliage,  and  the 
 flocks  and  herds  quenched  their  thirst. 
 
 Raschid,  not  satisfied  with  Hamet's 
 moderate  request,  desired  the  Genius  to 
 turn  the  Ganges  through  his  grounds  with 
 
 all  its  waters,  and  all  their  inhabitants. 
 As  Raschid  was  looking  with  contempt  upon 
 Hamet  and  his  small  request,  he  heard  ou 
 a  sudden  the  roar  of  torrents,  and  saw  a 
 mighty  stream  come  rolling  on,  which  was 
 the  Ganges  broken  loose  from  its  bounds  ; 
 the  flood  rolled  forward  into  the  lands  of 
 Raschid,  his  plantations  were  torn  up,  his 
 flocks  overwhelmed,  he  was  swept  away 
 before  it,  and  a  crocodile  devoured  him. 
 
 Dr.  Johnson. 
 MODESTY— Definition  of. 
 
 Modesty  is  that  virtue  which  moderates 
 our  pursuit  after  honour,  and  renders  us 
 humble  in  our  own  eyes ;  from  whence  it 
 appears  that  there  are  two  offices  belong- 
 ing to  it,  viz.,  to  think  meanly  of  our- 
 selves, and  to  be  moderate  in  desiring  of 
 honour ;  to  grant  it  freely  to  another. 
 
 Limborck. 
 MODESTY— Influence  of. 
 That  modest  grace  subdu'd  my  soul, 
 That  chastity  of  look  which  seems  to  hang, 
 A  veil  of  purest  light,  o'er  all  her  beauties, 
 And  by  forbidding  most  inflames  desires. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Modesty's  the  charm 
 That  coldest  hearts  can  quickest  warm ; 
 Which  all  our  best  affections  gains, 
 And,  gaining,  ever  still  retains. 
 
 J.  K.  Paulding. 
 MODESTY— Losing. 
 
 Shame  at  first  is  a  restraint  to  sinners, 
 but  that  too  soon  wears  off;  and  when  any 
 have  lost  their  innocence,  then  modesty 
 will  not  be  long  after ;  for  impudence  then 
 comes  on  with  vice,  and  grows  up  with  it, 
 and  especially  great  crimes  make  persons 
 shameless  ;  and  those  who,  after  a  course 
 of  sin,  have  the  heart  to  do  bad  things, 
 seldom  want  the  face  to  bear  them  out. 
 
 Scragg. 
 MODESTY— Meekness  of. 
 
 A  maiden  never  bold, 
 Of  spirit  so  still  and  quiet,  that  her  motion 
 Blushed  at  itself.  Shakespeare. 
 
 MODESTY— Praise  of. 
 
 A  simple  and  modest  man  lives  unknown 
 until  a  moment,  which  he  could  not  have 
 foreseen,  reveals  his  estimable  qualities  and 
 his  generous  actions.  I  compare  him  to 
 the  concealed  flower,  springing  from  an 
 humble  stem,  which  escapes  the  view,  and 
 is  discovered  only  by  its  perfume.  Pride 
 quickly  fixes  the  eye,  and  he  who  is  his 
 own  eulogist,  dispenses  every  other  person 
 from  the  obligation  to  praise  him.  A  truly 
 modest  man,  emerging  from  his  transient 
 obscurity,  will  obtain  those  delightful 
 praises  which  the  heart  awards  without 
 eflbrt.  His  superiority,  far  from  being 
 importunate,  will  become  attractive.     Mo« 
 
MODESTY— MONEY. 
 
 603 
 
 desty  gives  to  talents  and  virtues  the  same 
 charm  which  chastity  adds  to  beauty. 
 
 A.  F.  Stanley. 
 MODESTY— True  and  False. 
 True  modesty  is  a  discerning  grace, 
 And  only  bhishes  in  the  proper  place; 
 But  counterfeit  is  blind,  and  skulks  through 
 
 fear, 
 Where  'tis  a   shame   to   be    ashamed    to 
 
 appear : 
 Humility  the  parent  of  the  first, 
 The  last  by  vanity  produced  and  nursed. 
 
 Coioper. 
 MODESTY— of  Wisdom. 
 
 It  is  remnrked  that  the  modest  deport- 
 ment of  real  wise  men,  when  contrasted  to 
 the  assuming  air  of  the  young  and  ignorant, 
 may  be  compared  to  the  difi'erences  of 
 wheat,  which  while  its  ear  is  empty  holds 
 up  its  head  proudly,  but  as  soon  as  it  is 
 filled  with  grain  bends  modestly  down, 
 and  withdraws  from  observation. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 MONEY— Abuse  of. 
 
 1.  To  hoard  money  is  to  abuse  it. 
 
 2.  To  make  the  possession  of  money  the 
 chief  basis  of  social  preference  is  to  abuse 
 money.  Money  cannot  make  a  lady  nor  a 
 gentleman.  A  leper  may  put  on  jewels ; 
 but  a  jewelled  leper  is  a  leper  still. 
 
 3.  Money  is  abused  when  lifted  above  its 
 sphere.  To  siake  our  happiness  on  the 
 possession  of  a  certain  amount  of  money, 
 or  on  the  incessancy  of  accumulation,  is 
 unduly  to  exalt  money. 
 
 4.  Money  is  abused  when  pursued  by 
 means  that  are  evil  in  themselves  or  inju- 
 rious in  their  effects,  and  when  it  is  so 
 employed  as  inevitably  to  inflict  personal 
 and  social  mischief.  S.  Martin. 
 
 MONEY— Careful  of. 
 
 When  life  is  full  of  health  and  glee. 
 Work  thou  as  busy  as  a  bee  ! 
 And  take  the  gentle  hint  from  me — 
 Be  careful  of  your  money  ! 
 
 Be  careful  of  yonr  money,  boys — 
 
 Be  careful  of  your  money  ; 
 You'll  find  it  true,  that  friends  are 
 few 
 When  you  are  short  of  money  ! 
 
 But  do  not  shut  sweet  Mercy's  doors 
 When  Sorrow  pleads  or  Want  implores; 
 To  help  to  heal  misfortune's  sores, 
 Be  careful  of  your  money  ! 
 
 Be  careful  of  your  money,  boys — 
 
 Be  careful  of  your  money; 
 To  help  the  poor  who  seek  your  door, 
 Be  careful  of  your  money  ! 
 
 Madagan. 
 MONEY— Contempt  of. 
 
 We  have  no  sympathy  with  that  bastard 
 piety    which    speaks    contemptuously    of 
 
 money,  which  professes  to  regard  it  as 
 glittering  dust  and  gilded  vanity.  Tliis 
 kind  of  piety  lacks  sincerity.  They  who 
 are  in  the  habit  of  decrying  money  may  be 
 safely  suspected,  not  only  of  having  little  of 
 it,  but  of  being  the  most  covetous  to  get 
 it ;  and  they  only  raise  the  "  Fox  and 
 Grapes"  whine  because  it  hnppens  to  be 
 beyond  their  reach.  If  we  could  get 
 behind  the  curtain  of  their  hearts,  we 
 should  find  that  this  deprecation  of  money 
 is  due  more  to  greed  than  to  godliness. 
 
 R.  T.  Jeffrey. 
 MONEY— Corruption  of. 
 
 Alexander  being  asked  why  he  did  not 
 gather  money  and  lay  it  up  in  a  public  trea- 
 sury, "For  fear,"  said  he,  "lest,  being 
 keeper  thereof,  I  should  be  infected  and 
 corrupted."  A  good  caution  for  them  who 
 love  to  bear  the  bag.  Venning. 
 
 MONEY— DeUght  in. 
 
 What  is  it.  trow  you,  that  makes  a  poor 
 man  labour  all  his  lifetime,  carry  such  great 
 burdens,  fare  so  hardly,  macerate  himself, 
 and  endure  so  much  misery,  undergo  such 
 base  offices  with  so  great  patience,  to  rise 
 up  early,  and  lie  down  late,  if  there  were  not 
 extraordinary  delight  in  getting  and  keep- 
 ing of  money?  What  makes  a  merchant 
 that  hath  no  need,  sails  superque  domi,  to 
 range  all  over  the  world,  through  all  those 
 intemperate  zones  of  heat  and  cold;  vo- 
 luntarily to  venture  his  life,  and  be  con- 
 tent with  such  miserable  famine,  nasty 
 usage,  in  a  stinking  ship;  if  there  were 
 not  a  pleasure  and  a  hope  to  get  money, 
 which  doth  season  the  rest,  and  mitigate 
 his  indefatigable  pains?  What  makes 
 them  go  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  a 
 hundred  fathoms  deep,  endangering  their 
 dearest  lives,  enduring  damps  and  filthy 
 smell,  when  they  have  enough  already,  if 
 they  could  be  content,  and  no  such  cause 
 to  labour,  but  an  extraordinary  delight 
 they  take  in  riches  ?  E.  Burton. 
 
 MONEY— Devices  on. 
 
 On  some  of  the  reverses  of  the  Roman 
 large  brass  may  be  deciphered.  Valour, 
 standing  full  armed :  Honour,  robed  and 
 chapleted:  Happiucss.crowned  with  obli vis- 
 cent  poppies:  Concord,  v  'th  extended  hand, 
 and  the  horn  of  plenty  in  her  bosom  :  Hope, 
 tripping  lightly,  and  smiling  on  a  flower- 
 bud  :  Peace,  offering  the  olive  branch  :  For- 
 tune, resting  on  a  rudder  :  Military  Faith, 
 stretfhing  forth  his  consecrated  standard : 
 Abundance,  emptying  her  cornucopia  :  Se- 
 curity,leaning  on  a  column:  Modesty, veiled 
 and  sitting :  Piety,  taking  her  gift  to  the 
 altar:  Fruitfulness,  in  the  midst  of  her 
 nurselings:  Equity,  adjusting  her  scales: 
 Victory,  with  wings  and  coronal  and  trum- 
 pet .  Eternity,  holding  the  globe  and  risen 
 
604 
 
 KOITEY.. 
 
 phoenix;  or  better,  seated  on  a  starry 
 sphere:  Liberty,  with  cap  and  staff":  Na- 
 tional Prosperity,  sailing  as  a  good  ship 
 before  the  favouring  gale :  and  Public 
 Faith,  with  joined  hands  clasping  between 
 them  the  palms  of  success,  and  the  cadu- 
 ceus  of  health.  Religion  would  also  at  an 
 early  period  claim  to  be  distinguished,  and 
 accordingly  the  effigies  of  Juno,  Diana, 
 Ceres,  Jove,  Hei'cules,  Apollo,  Bacchus, 
 Pluto,  Neptune,  and  many  other  of  the 
 heathen  deities  are  found  impressed  upon 
 the  early  coins.  The  Jews,  however,  were 
 the  worshippers  of  the  only  one  true  God ; 
 idolatry  was  strictly  forbidden  in  their 
 law  ;  and  therefore  their  shekel  never  bore 
 a  head,  but  was  impressed  simply  with  the 
 almond  rod  and  the  pot  of  manna. 
 
 G.  M.  Bell. 
 MONEY— Getting. 
 
 To  get  money,  study  and  act  out  the 
 BOOK  OF  Pkoveebs.  S.  Martin. 
 
 (1)  To  get  money  by  consecrating  the 
 wJiole  of  a  man's  time  and  energy  to  its 
 imrsuit  is  to  get  it  by  evil  means. 
 
 (2)  To  sacrifice  the  future  welfare  of  the 
 spirit,  the  cultivation  of  the  mind,  happi- 
 ness, and  character,  to  gain  money,  is  to 
 pursue  it  by  evil  means. 
 
 (3)  To  seek  money  hy  tempting,  deceiving 
 and  oppressing  others,  is  to  pursue  it  hy 
 evil  means.  Ibid. 
 
 MONEY— Keeping. 
 
 It  is  foolish  to  allow  our  hearts  to  lean 
 upon  any  earthly  good,  which  must  soon 
 perish.  It  is  like  putting  all  one's  money 
 into  the  coat  pocket,  which  a  clever  thief 
 may  cut  off"  and  steal.  A  great  man  once 
 told  a  youth  to  empty  his  purse  into  his 
 head,  if  he  wished  to  keep  his  money  safely; 
 meaning  that  a  good  education  would  be 
 the  best  and  surest  investment  for  his 
 little  capital.  So  let  us  lay  up  our  treasure, 
 where  alone  it  will  be  safe,  namely,  in  the 
 graces  of  the  soul,  the  love  of  God,  and  in- 
 creasing meetness  for  heaven.  Anon. 
 
 MONEY-  Love  of. 
 
 The  love  of  money  is  a  vertiginous  pool, 
 sucking  all  into  it  to  destroy  it.  It  is 
 troubled  and  uneven,  giddy  and  unsafe, 
 serving  no  end  but  its  own,  and  that  also 
 in  a  restless  and  uneasy  motion.  But  the 
 love  of  God  is  a  holy  fountain,  limpid  and 
 pure,  sweet  and  salutary,  lasting  and  eter- 
 nal. The  love  of  God  spends  itself  upon 
 Him,  to  receive  again  the  reflections  of 
 grace  and  benediction ;  the  love  of  money 
 spends  all  it  desires  upon  itself,  to  pur- 
 chase nothing  but  unsatisfying  instruments 
 of  exchange  or  supernumerary  provisions, 
 and  ends  in  dissatisfaction,  emptiness  of 
 spirits  and  a  bitter  curse.         £p.  Taylor. 
 
 MONEY— Love  of. 
 
 "  The  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all 
 evil."_  It  groweth  up  a  little  plant  of 
 coveting;  presently  the  leaves  get  rank, 
 the  branches  spread,  and  feed  on  petty 
 thefts ;  then  in  their  early  season  come 
 the  blossoms,  black  designs,  plots,  involved 
 and  undeveloped  yet,  of  foul  conspiracies, 
 extortions  on  the  weak,  rich  robbings  of 
 the  wealthy,  the  threatened  slander,  the 
 rewarded  lie,  malice,  perjury,  sacrilege; 
 then  speedily  eometh  on  the  climax,  the 
 consummate  flower,  dark-red  murder ;  and 
 the  fruit  bearing  in  itself  the  seeds  that 
 never  die,  is  righteous,  wrathful  condem- 
 nation. Tupper. 
 
 MONEY— and  Man. 
 
 Money,  thou  bane  of  bliss  and  source  of 
 
 woe, 
 Whence   eometh  thou,  that   thou   art  so 
 
 fresh  and  fine  ? 
 I  know  thy  parentage  is  base  and  low  : 
 Man  found  thee  poor  and  dirty  in  a  mine. 
 Sure  thou  didst  so  little  contribute 
 To  this  great  kingdom,  which  thou  now 
 
 hast  got. 
 That  he  was  fain,  when  thou  wast  des- 
 titute. 
 To  dig  thee  out  of  thy  dark  cave  and  grot. 
 Then  forcing  thee,  by  fire  he  made  thee 
 
 bright; 
 Nay,  thou  hast  got  the  face  of  man ;  for  we 
 Have  with  our  stamp  and  seal  transferr'd 
 
 our  right : 
 Thou  art  the  man,  and  man  but  dross  to 
 
 thee. 
 Man  calleth  thee  his  wealth,  who  made 
 
 thee  rich ; 
 And  while  he  digs  out  thee  falls  in  the 
 
 ditch.  Merhert, 
 
 MONEY— Origin  of. 
 
 A  long  period  of  time  must  have  inter- 
 vened between  the  first  introduction  of  the 
 precious  metals  into  commerce  and  their 
 becoming  generally  used  as  money.  The 
 peculiar  qualities  which  so  eminently  fit 
 them  for  this  purpose  would  only  be  gra- 
 dually discovered.  They  would  probably 
 be  first  introduced  in  their  gross  and  uu- 
 purified  state.  A  sheep,  an  ox,  a  certain 
 quantity  of  corn,  or  any  other  article, 
 would  afterwards  be  bartered  or  exchanged 
 for  pieces  of  gold  or  silver  in  bars  or  ingots, 
 in  the  same  way  as  they  would  formerly 
 have  been  exchanged  for  iron,  copper,  cloth, 
 or  anything  else.  The  merchants  would 
 soon  begin  to  estimate  their  proper  value, 
 and,  in  effecting  exchanges,  would  first 
 agree  upon  the  quality  of  the  metal  to  be 
 given,  and  then  the  quantity  which  its 
 possessor  had  become  bound  to  pay  would 
 be  ascertained  by  weight.  This  is  the 
 manner,  according  to  Aristotle  and  Pliny 
 
KONEY— MORAL  EXCELLENCE. 
 
 605^ 
 
 in  which  the  precious  metals  were  origi- 
 nally exchanged  in  Greece  and  Italy.  The 
 same  practice  is  still  observed  in  ditl'erent 
 countries.  In  many  parts  of  China  and 
 Abyssinia  the  value  of  gold  and  silver  is 
 always  ascertained  by  weight.  Iron  was 
 the  first  money  of  the  LacedBemonians, 
 and  copper  of  the  Romans.        G.  M.  Bell. 
 
 MONEY— Power  of. 
 
 See  what  money  can  do ;  that  can  change 
 Men's  manners ;  alter  their  conditions  ! 
 How  tempestuous  the  slaves  are  without 
 
 it! 
 0  thou  powerful  metal!  what  authority 
 Is  in  thee !  thou  art  the  key  of  all  men's 
 Mouths ;  with  thee  a  man  may  lock  up  the 
 
 jaws 
 Of  an  informer,  and  without  thee,  he 
 Cannot  the  lips  of  a  lawyer.  Broome. 
 
 0  thou  sweet  king-killer,  and  dear  divorce 
 'Twixt  natural  son  and  sire!  thou  bright 
 
 defiler 
 Of    Hymen's    purest   bed!    thou   valiant 
 
 Mars ! 
 Thou  ever  young,  fresh,  loved,  and  delicate 
 
 wooer. 
 Whose  blush  doth  thaw  the  consecrated 
 
 snow 
 That  lies  on  Dian's  lap !  thou  visible  god, 
 That  solder'st  close  impossibilities, 
 And  mak'st  them  kiss !  that  speak'st  with 
 
 every  tongue. 
 To  every  purpose  !  0  thou  touch  of  hearts  ! 
 Shakespeare. 
 MONEY— Use  of. 
 
 Money  is  an  instrument  for  facilitating 
 exchanges — it  is  the  wheel  of  circulation 
 and  distribution. 
 
 To  the  individual,  money  is  an  instru- 
 ment for  supplying  some  of  his  wants,  and 
 for  gratifying  some  of  his  desires. 
 
 By  the  legitimate  use  of  money  the  in- 
 dividual faculties  are  developed,  and  at  the 
 same  time  mutual  dependence  is  promoted. 
 It  is  an  instrument  in  the  enterprises 
 and  ministries  of  benevolence  : — feeds  the 
 hungry,  clothes  the  naked,  shelters  the 
 houseless,  builds  hospitals  for  the  sick, 
 wipes  the  tears  of  widows,  hushes  the  cries 
 of  the  fatherless,  diffuses  education  and 
 knowledge,  circulates  the  Bible,  builds 
 pla(!es  of  religious  worship,  sends  the  mis- 
 sionary to  the  heathen,  and  supports  the 
 ministry  at  home,  &c.  S.  Martin. 
 
 MONEY — Useful  or  Pernicious. 
 
 It  is  useful  or  pernicious,  a  blasting  or 
 benignant  power,  according  to  the  moral 
 relation  of  an  individual  to  it.  The  in- 
 fluence and  operation  of  money  on  a  man 
 will  be  according  to  the  man's  state  of 
 mind;  according  to  the  condition  of  his 
 heart  and  affections,  his  estimate  and  plan 
 
 of  life.  Where  these  are  low  and  worldly 
 or  are  suffered  to  become  so;  where  the 
 nature  is  inherently  gross,  sensual,  sordid; 
 or  where  it  is  weak,  sensitive,  impressible, 
 and  alive  to  questionable  intiuences;  or 
 where  the  man  ceases  to  watch  and  pray, 
 to  keep  up  the  tone  and  attend  to  the 
 culture  of  his  inner  life — in  these  and  all 
 similar  cases  money  may  act  like  canker 
 and  a  curse.  Binney. 
 
 MONOMANIA. 
 
 Vicentinus  believed  himself  too  large  to 
 pass  one  of  his  doorways.  To  dispel  this 
 illusion,  it  was  resolved  by  his  physician 
 that  he  should  be  dragged  through  this 
 aperture  by  force.  This  erroneous  dictate 
 was  obeyed ;  but,  as  he  was  forced  along, 
 Vicentinus  screamed  out  in  agony  that  his 
 limbs  were  fractured,  and  the  flesh  torn 
 from  his  bones.  In  this  dreadful  delusion, 
 with  terrific  imprecations  against  his  mur- 
 derers, he  died. 
 
 A  Bourbon  prince  thought  himself  dead, 
 and  refused  to  eat  until  his  friends  invited 
 him  to  dine  with  Turenne  and  other 
 French  heroes  long  since  departed. 
 
 There  was  a  tradesman  who  thought  he 
 was  a  seven-shilling  piece,  and  advertised 
 himself  thus :  "  If  my  wife  presents  me 
 for  payment,  don't  change  me." 
 
 Bishop  Warburton  tells  of  a  man  who 
 thought  himself  a  goose  pie;  and  Dr.  Far- 
 riday,  of  Manchester,  had  a  patient  who 
 thought  he  had  swallowed  the  devil. 
 
 In  Paris  there  lived  a  man  who  thought 
 he  had,  with  others,  been  guillotined,  and 
 when  Napoleon  was  emperor  their  heads 
 were  all  restored,  but  in  the  scramble  he 
 got  the  wrong  one.  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 MORAL  DEFECTS. 
 
 As  in  walking  through  a  wood,  you  will 
 often  see  some  of  the  finest  trees  afflicted 
 with  warts  and  carbuncles,  unseemly  to 
 the  eye,  and  injurious  to  the  tree;  so  in 
 moving  among  men,  you  will  often  find 
 some  of  the  most  physically  and  intellectu- 
 ally noble  and  strong,  deformed  with  moral 
 defects  in  temperor  life,  which  are  blemishes 
 upon  their  character,  and  grievous  to  their 
 well-wishing  friends.  John  Bate. 
 
 MORAL  EXCELLENCE. 
 
 There  is  an  old  couplet,  not  very  poetical, 
 but  truthful  and  instructive  : 
 
 "  Circles  are  prais'd,  not  as  they  may  abound 
 In  bulk,  but  as  they  are  exactly  round." 
 
 When  hoys  compete  at  school,  the  eflort 
 is,  not  who  shall  cast  the  largest  circle — 
 for  some  have  larger  slates  and  others 
 smaller — but,  who  shall  describe  one  most 
 accurately.  So  is  it  in  morals ;  he  excels 
 who  most  exactly  completes  the  circle  of 
 
G05 
 
 MOEAL  GF.OT/TH-MOTHEE. 
 
 commanded  duty,  in  that  particular  station 
 or  relation,  or  those  peculiar  circumstances, 
 in  which  the  Lord  has  placed  him. 
 
 Dr.  W.  Anderson. 
 MOEAL  GEOWTH. 
 
 It  is  a  solemn  fact  that  accessions  are 
 made  to  our  moral  history,  with  every  new 
 impression,  thought,  purpose  and  act.  We 
 are  not  like  channels  through  which  cir- 
 cumstances flow  and  never  become  more 
 full,  but  rather  like  reservoirs  into  which 
 all  events,  feelings,  and  acts  of  life  flow  as 
 contributing  streams,  and  there  remain 
 and  augment.  As  a  healthy  tree  gathers 
 every  moment  a  something  from  the  ex- 
 ternal system,  transmutes  it  into  its  own 
 nature,  and  makes  it  part  of  itself,  so  every 
 moment  we  incorporate  into  our  own  moral 
 being  everything  that  passes  over  our 
 consciousness.  Our  moral  stock  is  greater 
 to-day  than  yesterday,  and  to-morrow  will 
 be  greater  still,  and  thus  on  for  ever,  our 
 whole  life  is  a  treasuring  up ;  moral  accu- 
 mulation is  the  great  law  of  our  being. 
 
 Z>r.  Thomas. 
 MOEAL  QUALITIES. 
 
 It  is  with  flowers  as  with  moral  qualities; 
 the  briglit  are  sometimes  poisonous ;  but, 
 I  believe,  never  the  sweet.  Mare. 
 
 MOEALITY— Definitions  of. 
 
 Morality  is  that  relation  or  proportion 
 
 which  actions  bear  to  a  given  rule.     It  is 
 
 generally  used  in  reference  to  a  good  life. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 Talk    they    of    morals,    0    thou    bleeding 
 
 Lamb ! 
 The  grand  morality  is  love  of  Thee. 
 
 Young. 
 MOEALITY— Nature  and  Eelatlon  of. 
 
 Morality  is  the  body,  of  which  the  faith 
 in  Christ  is  the  soul — so  far  indeed  its 
 earthly  body,  as  it  is  adapted  to  its  state 
 of  welfare  on  earth,  and  the  appointed 
 form  and  instrument  of  its  communion 
 with  the  present  world ;  yet  not  "  terres- 
 trial," nor  of  the  world,  but  a  celestial 
 body,  and  capable  of  being  transfigured 
 from  glory  to  glory,  in  accordance  with 
 the  varying  circumstances  and  outward 
 relations  of  its  moving  and  informing 
 spirit.  S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 MOEALITY— not  Eeligion. 
 
 Heat  water  to  the  highest  degree,  you 
 cannot  make  wine  of  it;  it  is  water  still; 
 so,  let  morality  be  raised  to  the  highest,  it 
 is  nature  still;  it  is  old  Adam  put  in  a 
 better  dress.  T.  Watson. 
 
 MOEALITY— not  Sufficient. 
 
 The  man  who  tries  to  cut  himself  and 
 square  his  conduct  merely  by  the  outward 
 pattern  of  morality,  is  as  the  artist  who. 
 
 instead  of  studying  his  art  from  the  bound- 
 less and  glorious  pictures  God  has  painted 
 on  the  earth  and  in  the  sky,  goes  into  some 
 dim  gallery,  and  pores  over  what  hangs 
 there  until"  he  can  badly  imitate  the  stiff 
 drapery,  uncouth  figures,  inhuman  adults, 
 and  monstrous  pumpkin-headed  children, 
 that  the  canvass  before  him  exhibits.  Ha  ! 
 you  love  to  laugh  at  the  artists ;  but  what 
 do  you  think  the  angels  do  at  you,  who 
 prostitute  not  merely  your  fingers  and 
 imaginations,  but  your  whole  spiritual 
 nature,  to  the  work  of  making,  not  bad 
 pictures,  but  bad,  incomplete,  poverty- 
 stricken  men  ?  "  Is  not  morality  good,  as 
 far  as  it  goes  ?  "  say  you.  "  Yes,  certainly, 
 as  far  as  it  goes."  "  Isn't  my  cable  as 
 g(3od  as  yours,  as  far  as  it  goes  ?"  says  the 
 sailor  who  has  a  short  cable  to  him  who 
 has  one  very  long.  "  Yes,"  says  the  other, 
 "  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  what  of  that,  when 
 it  won't  go  within  fifty  fathoms  of  bottom  ?" 
 And  of  what  use,  O  moralist,  is  your  cable, 
 when  it  will  not  go  within  fifty  fathoms  of 
 the  place  where  it  can  take  hold  upon  the 
 soul's  anchorage  ?  H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 MOEALITY  AND  EELIGION. 
 
 Morality  is  distinguished  from  religion 
 thus  : — Religion  is  a  studious  confoi-mity 
 of  our  actions  to  the  relations  in  which  we 
 stand  to  each  other  in  civil  society.  Mo- 
 rality comprehends  only  a  part  of  religion  ; 
 but  religion  comprehends  the  whole  of  mo- 
 rality. Morality  finds  all  her  motives  here 
 below ;  religion  fetches  all  her  motives  from 
 above.  Tiie  highest  principle  in  morals  is 
 a  just  regard  to  the  rights  of  men ;  the  first 
 principle  in  religion  is  the  love  of  God. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 MOTHEE— Advice  to  a. 
 
 The  first  book  read,  and  the  last  book 
 laid  aside  by  every  child  is  the  conduct  of 
 its  mother. 
 
 1.  First  give  yourself,  then  your  child, 
 to  God.  It  is  but  giving  Him  His  own. 
 Not  to  do  it  is  robbing  God. 
 
 2.  Always  prefer  virtue  to  wealth — the 
 honour  that  comes  from  God  to  the  honour 
 that  comes  from  men.  Do  this  for  your- 
 self, do  it  for  your  child. 
 
 3.  Let  your  whole  course  be  to  raise 
 your  child  to  a  high  standard.  Do  not 
 sink  into  childishness  yourself. 
 
 4.  Give  not  heedless  commands,  but  when 
 you  command  require  prompt  obedience. 
 
 5.  Never  indulge  a  child  in  cruelty,  even 
 to  an  insect. 
 
 6.  Cultivate  sympathy  with  your  child 
 in  all  lawful  joys  and  sorrows. 
 
 7.  Be  sure  that  you  never  correct  a  child 
 until  you  know  it  deserves  correction.  Hear 
 its  story  first  and  fully. 
 
 8.  Never  allow  your  child  to  whine  or 
 fret,  or  to  bear  grudges. 
 
MOTHES. 
 
 607 
 
 9.  Enrly  inculcnte  fi-anlftiess,  candour, 
 generosity,  magnanimity,  patriotism,  and 
 self-denial. 
 
 10.  The  knowledge  and  fear  of  the  Lord 
 are  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 
 
 11.  Never  mortify  the  feelings  of  your 
 child  by  upbraiding  it  with  dulness  j  but 
 do  not  inspire  it  with  self-conceit. 
 
 12.  Pray  with  and  for  your  child,  often 
 and  heartily. 
 
 13.  Encourage  all  attempts  at  self-im- 
 provement. 
 
 14.  Never  deceive  nor  break  a  promise 
 to  a  child. 
 
 15.  Reprove  not  a  child  severely  in  the 
 presence  of  strangers. 
 
 16.  Remember  that  life  is  a  vapour,  and 
 that  you  and  your  child  may  be  called  out 
 of  time  into  eternity  any  day.  Anon. 
 
 MOTHER— Associations  of. 
 
 How  many  sacred  and  hallowed  associa- 
 tions cluster  around  that  dear  and  loving 
 name,  as  memory  takes  us  gently  by  the 
 hand,  and  leads  us  far  back  to  the  past,  to 
 that  happy  time  when  blessed  by  the  coun- 
 sels and  advice  of  the  now  sainted  being 
 we  called  mother !  The  music  of  that 
 silver-toned  voice  we  again  hear  from  the 
 spirit-land,  singing  some  soothing  melody, 
 or  telling,  in  simple  language,  "  that  sweet 
 story  of  old,"  till  forgotten  were  all  our 
 childish  sorrows.  And  now,  in  the  strife 
 and  tumult  of  life,  when  the  cold  world 
 frowns  darkly  upon  us,  her  gentle  words 
 come  back,  bidding  us  "  look  above."  Who 
 can  fathom  the  depth  of  a  mother's  love  ? 
 No  friendship  so  pure,  so  devoted.  The 
 wild  storm  of  adversity  and  the  bright 
 sunshine  of  prosperity  are  all  alike  to  her  : 
 however  unworthy  we  may  be  of  that  affec- 
 tion, a  mother  never  ceases  to  love  her 
 erring  child.  Often,  when  alone,  as  we 
 giize  up  to  the  starry  heaven,  can  we  in 
 imagination  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  angels 
 around  'the  "  great  white  throne,"  and 
 among  the  brightest  and  fiiirest  of  them 
 all  is  our  sweet  mother,  ever  beckoning  us 
 onward  and  upward  to  her  celestial  home. 
 Then  let  us  live  like  hei-,  that 
 
 "  When  life's  day  is  o'er, 
 And  evenirig  gloom  around  our  path  doth 
 
 lie. 
 Our  spirits  from  this  world  may  go 
 To  seek  that  world  beyond  the  sky." 
 
 R.  Smith. 
 mOTKER— Charms  of. 
 
 Mother !  How  many  delightful  associa- 
 tions cluster  around  that  word  !  The 
 innocent  smiles  of  infancy,  the  gambols  of 
 boyhood,  and  the  happiest  hours  of  riper 
 years  !  When  my  heart  aches  at  the  world's 
 wickedness,  and  my  limbs  are  weary  and 
 my  feet  bloody,  travelling  the  thorny  path 
 of  life,  I  am  accustomed  to  sit  down  on 
 
 some  mossy  stone,  and,  closing  my  eyes  ou 
 real  scenes,  to  send  my  spirit  back  to  the 
 days  of  early  life.  I  sing  my  lullaby,  or 
 watch  my  goldfinch,  or  catch  my  rabbits, 
 or  watch  the  streets  of  my  native  city,  or 
 look  over  the  green ;  I  hear  the  shrill  bugle, 
 and  view  the  prancing  cavalry,  or  go  down 
 to  the  dockyard,  or  walk  along  the  sea- 
 shore, or  prattle  with  my  brother,  and  kiss 
 my  sweet  sister ;  1  feel  afresh  my  infant 
 joys  and  sorrows,  till  my  spirit  recovers  its 
 tone,  and  is  willing  to  pursue  its  journey. 
 But  in  all  these  reminiscences  my  mother 
 rises.  If  I  seat  myself  upon  my  cushion, 
 it  is  at  her  side ;  if  I  sing,  it  is  to  her  ear ; 
 if  I  walk  the  walls  or  the  meadows,  my 
 little  hand  is  in  my  mother's,  and  my  little 
 feet  keep  company  with  hers ;  if  1  stand 
 and  listen  to  the  piano,  it  is  because  my 
 mother's  fingers  touch  the  keys ;  if  1  sur- 
 vey the  wonders  of  creation,  it  is  my  mother 
 who  pointy  out  the  object  of  my  admiring 
 attention ;  if  a  hundred  cannon  pronounce 
 a  national  salute,  I  find  myself  clinging  to 
 her  knees.  When  my  heart  bounds  with 
 its  best  joy,  it  is  because  at  the  performance 
 of  some  task,  or  the  recitation  of  some 
 verses,  I  receive  a  present  from  her  hand. 
 There  is  no  velvet  so  soit  as  a  mother's  lap, 
 no  rose  so  lovely  as  her  smile,  no  path  so 
 flowery  as  that  imprinted  with  her  foot- 
 steps. Bp.  Thomson. 
 
 MOTHEE— reath  of  a. 
 
 She  mad(!  a  sign 
 To  bring  her  babe ;  'twas  brought,  and  by 
 
 her  placed. 
 She   looked   upon    its   face,    that    neither 
 
 smiled 
 Nor  wept,  nor  knew  who  gazed  upon  it; 
 
 and  laid 
 Her  hand  upon  its  little  breast,  and  sought 
 For  it,  with  look  that  seemed  to  penetrate 
 The  heavens — unutterable  blessings,  such 
 As  God  to  dying  parents  only  grants 
 For  infants  left  behind  them  in  the  world. 
 "  God  bless  my  child,"  we  heard  her  say, 
 
 and  heard 
 No  more. 
 And  now  her  eyes  grew  bright  and  brighter 
 
 still. 
 Too  bright  for  ours  to  look  upon,  suffused 
 With  many  tears,  and   closed  without  a 
 
 cloud. 
 They  set,  as  sets  the  morning  star,  which 
 
 goes 
 Not  down  behind  the  darkened  west,  nor 
 
 hides 
 Obscured  among  the  tempests  of  the  sky. 
 But  melts  away  into  the  light  of  heaven. 
 
 Pollock. 
 MOTHER— Excellent. 
 
 Take  her  for  all  in  all,  I  do  not  believe 
 that  any  human  being  ever  brought  into 
 the  world,  and  carried  through  it  a  larger 
 
608 
 
 MOTHEES. 
 
 portion  of  original  goodness  than  my  dear 
 mother.  Every  one  who  knew  her  loved 
 her,  for  she  seemed  to  be  made  to  be  happy 
 herself,  and  to  make  every  one  happy 
 within  her  little  sphere.  Her  understand- 
 ing was  as  good  as  her  heart ;  it  is  from 
 her  that  I  have  inherited  that  alertness  of 
 mind  and  quickness  of  apprehension,  with- 
 out which  it  would  liave  been  impossible 
 for  me  to  liave  undertaken  half  of  what 
 I  have  performed.  God  never  blessed  a 
 human  creature  with  a  more  cheerful  dis- 
 position, a  more  generous  spirit,  a  sweeter 
 temper,  or  a  tenderer  heart.  I  remember 
 that  when  I  first  understood  what  death 
 was,  and  began  to  think  of  it,  the  most 
 fearful  thouglit  it  induced  was  that  of 
 losing  my  mother ;  it  seemed  to  me  more 
 than  I  could  bear,  and  I  used  to  hope  that 
 I  might  die  before  her.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 MOTHEES— of  Great  Men. 
 
 Throughout  the  pnges  of  history  we  are 
 struck  with  the  fact  that  our  remarkable 
 men  possessed  mothers  of  uncommon  ta- 
 lents for  good  or  bad,  and  great  energy 
 of  character.  It  would  almost  seem,  from 
 this  circumstance,  that  the  impress  of  the 
 mother  is  more  frequently  stamped  on  the 
 boy,  and  that  of  the  father  upon  the  girl — 
 we  mean  tlie  mental  intellectual  impress, 
 in  distinction  from  the  physical  ones. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  mother, 
 that  she  was  a  small,  plain,  well-educated 
 woman,  of  excellent  sense,  very  charitable, 
 and  a  great  lover  of  poetry  and  painting, 
 and  on  the  whole  a  superior  woman.  'Tis 
 evident,  from  the  writings  of  Sir  Walter, 
 that  he  had  an  uncommon  gift  in  the  word- 
 painting. 
 
 It  is  said  of  Byron's  mother,  that  she 
 was  a  proud  woman,  hasty,  violent,  and 
 unreasonable,  with  not  principle  enough 
 to  restrain  her  temper.  Unhappily,  Byron 
 inherited  his  mother's  inflammable  temper, 
 and  instead  of  being  subdued  and  softened 
 by  the  harshness  with  which  she  often 
 treated  him,  he  was  rendered  more  pas- 
 sionate by  it.  Thus  we  see  that  this  in- 
 firmity, which  by  gentleness  and  kind 
 treatment  might  have  been  checked,  if 
 not  cured,  was  suffered  to  enslave  one  of 
 the  most  talented,  brilliant,  poetical  minds 
 which  have  ever  shone  among  men,  entail- 
 ing a  life  of  misery  upon  its  possessor,  and 
 an  eai-ly  termination  to  his  career. 
 
 The  mother  of  Bonaparte  was  a  woman 
 of  great  beauty  and  energy  of  character. 
 This  last  trait  has  been  strikingly  exem- 
 plified throughout  his  whole  life. 
 
 The  mother  of  Robert  Burns,  the  Scot- 
 tish poet,  was  a  woman  of  moderate  per- 
 sonal attractions,  but  in  every  other  respect 
 slie  was  a  remarkable  woman.  She  was 
 blessed  with  an  equanimity  of  temper,  and 
 her  rehgious  feelings  were  constant  and 
 
 deep.  She  used  to  give  wings  to  the 
 weary  hours  of  her  checkered  life  by 
 chanting  songs  or  ballads,  of  which  she 
 had  a  large  store.  Her  perceptions  of 
 character  were  very  quick  and  keen,  and 
 she  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  rejoicing  in 
 the  fame  of  her  poet-son,  and  partaking  of 
 the  fruits  of  his  genius. 
 
 Lord  Bacon's  mother  is  said  to  have  been 
 a  mother  of  superior  mind,  of  great  learn- 
 ing and  deep  piety. 
 
 Little  is  said  of  the  mother  of  Nero, 
 except  that  she  murdered  her  second  hus- 
 band, the  Emperor  Claudius,  about  forty 
 years  after  marriage.  Do  we  wonder  that 
 Nero  was  a  cruel  emperor  if  his  mother 
 was  a  murderess?  How  strangely  does 
 the  mother  of  Nero,  an  ancient  tyrant, 
 contrast  with  the  mothers  of  some  of  our 
 modern  philanthropists  and  statesmen  !— 
 the  mother  of  Washington,  whose  namo 
 is  familiar  to  every  reader  of  history ;  the 
 mother  of  John  Jay,  who  deserves  a  place 
 by  the  side  of  Washington.  Mrs.  Jay  is 
 said  to  have  had  a  cultivated  mind,  a  fine 
 imagination,  and  an  aff'ectionate  temper. 
 
 The  mother  of  Patrick  Henry  was  a 
 woman  of  great  excellence  of  character, 
 and  marked  by  superior  conversational 
 powers.  Hence,  doubtless,  the  oratorical 
 gift  of  her  son.  With  the  mother  of  the 
 Adamses  all  are  acquainted.  Where  will 
 you  find  more  real  practical  sense,  and 
 true  energy  of  character,  than  John 
 Quincy's  mother  possessed  ? 
 
 The  late  John  Randolph,  some  years 
 before  his  death,  wrote  to  a  friend  as  fol- 
 low :  "  I  used  to  be  called  a  Frenchman, 
 because  I  took  the  French  side  in  politics; 
 and  though  this  was  unjust,  yet  the  truth 
 is,  I  should  have  been  a  French  atheist,  if 
 it  had  not  been  for  one  recollection,  and 
 that  was  when  my  departed  mother  used 
 to  take  my  little  hands  in  hers,  and  cause 
 me,  on  my  knees,  to  say,  '  Our  Father 
 which  art  in  heaven.'  " 
 
 Mothers  will  do  well  to  remember  that 
 their  imjjress  is  often  stamped  upon  their 
 sons.  Helen  Mar. 
 
 MOTHEES— Influence  of. 
 
 My  mother  asked  me  never  to  uly  tobacco. 
 I  have  never  touched  it  from  that  time  to 
 the  present  day.  She  asked  me  not  to  game, 
 and  I  have  never  gambled,  and  I  cannot  tell 
 who  is  winning  and  who  is  losing  in  games 
 that  can  be  played.  She  admonished  me, 
 too,  against  hard  drinking,  and  whatever 
 capacity  for  endurance  1  have  at  present, 
 and  whatever  usefulness  I  may  attain  in 
 life,  I  have  attributed  to  having  complied 
 with  her  pious  and  correct  wishes.  When 
 I  was  seven  years  of  age,  she  asked  me  not 
 to  drink,  and  then  I  made  a  resolution  of 
 total  abstinence  at  a  time  when  I  was  sole 
 constituent  member  of  my  own  body,  and 
 
KOURNING— MURDER. 
 
 609 
 
 that  I  have  adhered  to  it  through  all  time, 
 I  owe  it  to  my  mother. 
 
 Son.  F.  H.  Benton. 
 
 MOURNING— Blessing  in. 
 
 Deem  not  that  they  are  blest  alone 
 Whose  lives  a  peaceful  tenor  keep  ; 
 
 For  God,  wlio  pities  man,  has  shown 
 A  blessing  for  the  eyes  that  weep. 
 
 The  light  of  smiles  shall  fill  again 
 The  lids  that  overflow  with  tears ; 
 
 And  weary  hours  of  woe  and  pain 
 Are  promises  of  happier  years. 
 
 There  is  a  day  of  sunny  rest 
 
 For  every  dark  and  troubled  night ; 
 
 Thougli  grief  may  bide  an  evening  guest. 
 Yet  joy  shall  come  with  early  light. 
 
 Nor  let  the  good  man's  trust  depart. 
 Though  life  its  common  gifts  deny ; 
 
 Though  with  a  pierced  and  broken  heart. 
 And  spurned  of  men,  he  goes  to  die. 
 
 For  God  has  mark'd  each  sorrowing  day. 
 And  number'd  every  secret  tear; 
 
 And  heaven's  eternal  bliss  shall  pay 
 For  all  His  children  suffer  here. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 MURDER— Definition  of. 
 
 Murder  is  the  act  of  wilfully  and  feloni- 
 ously killing  a  person  upon  malice  or  fore- 
 thought. C.  Buck. 
 
 MURDER— EvU  of. 
 
 The  real  evil  of  murder  (apart  from  its 
 theftuous  character — it  is  the  robbing  a 
 man  of  his  most  precious  possession,  his 
 life)  lies  in  the  principles  and  feelings  from 
 ■which  it  springs,  and  in  its  recklessness  as 
 to  the  consequences,  especially  the  future 
 and  everlasting  consequences  of  the  act.  It 
 augurs  a  profound,  malignant,  and  cold- 
 blooded hatred  of  its  victim ;  it  shows  the 
 true  spirit  of  the  devil,  who  was  a  "  mur- 
 derer" as  well  as  a  "liar"  from  the  be- 
 ginning. "  He  that  hateth  his  brother  is 
 a  murderer ; "  and  the  converse  is  true : 
 "  the  murderer  intensely,  fiendishly  hates 
 his  brother."  It  is  the  antithesis  to  the 
 Christian  spirit  of  love  and  principle  of 
 forgiveness.  The  idea  of  murder  reduces 
 man,  whose  glory  it  should  be  to  "  look 
 before  and  after,"  to  the  recklessness  of 
 a  wild  beast.  Regarding  not  the  conse- 
 quences to  his  victim's  family,  friends, 
 position  in  society,  or  to  his  immortal 
 soul,  he  seeks  only  to  flesh  his  fury  in  his 
 blood,  and  often  does  deliberately  what 
 the  wild  beast  does  in  haste  and  hunger. 
 It  M  an  awful  thing  to  send  a  man  unpre- 
 pared into  eternity.  And  hence  Shake- 
 speare IS,  as  always,  true  to  human  nature, 
 wiie:',  in  Hamlet,  he  makes  the  ghost  dwell 
 so  much  on  tlie  tact  that  he  was  killed — 
 
 "  With  all  his  sins  broad  blown, 
 Unhouselled,  unanointed,  unannealed. " 
 
 Gilfillan. 
 MURDER— First. 
 
 "And  it  came  to  pass,  that  when  they 
 were  in  the  field,  that  Cain  rose  up  against 
 Abel  his  brother,  and  slew  him."  The 
 words  "  rose  np "  imply,  perhaps,  that 
 they  both  had  sate  down  together  in  the 
 middle  of  the  field,  that  Cain,  suddenly 
 starting  up,  rushed  upon  the  defenceless 
 and  unthinking  Abel,  and  probably  with  a 
 stone  snatched  from  the  ground,  accom- 
 plished his  horrible  purpose.  And  now  for 
 the  first  time  there  is  l)lood,  the  blood  of 
 man,  upon  the  greensward  of  the  earth. 
 Pause,  and  look  for  a  moment  on  these 
 first  drops  of  gore.  Soon  the  sound  with 
 which  the  blood  issues  forth  is  hushed,  and 
 it  rests  silent,  but  how  significant,  upon 
 the  ground  !  It  lies  there  a  memorial  of 
 the  curse  which  God  had  pronounced  on 
 man  when  He  said,  "  Thou  shalt  surely 
 die."  It  lies  a  mirror  wherein  sin  may 
 see  its  foul  features  most  accurately  repre- 
 sented, and  whence  Cain  may  start  back 
 app;dled  at  his  own  image.  It  lies  a  pro- 
 phecy and  a  foretaste  of  oceans  and  oceans 
 more  of  the  same  "  red  rain  "  which  are  to 
 bathe  the  world.  See  in  Cain's  recoil  from 
 that  ghastly  pool  an  emblem  of  the  afcer 
 horror  of  millions,  innocent  or  guilty,  at 
 the  sight  of  human  blood !  See  huw 
 slowly,  to  his  awakened  imagination,  it 
 sinks  into  the  earth,  how  reluctantly  the 
 sun  seems  to  drink  up  some  of  its  spilt 
 drops;  how,  after  these  disappeared,  the 
 stain  continues  to  rest  on  the  clothes  of 
 Abel  and  on  his  own  hands;  and  may  we 
 not  express  his  feelings  in  the  words  of  a 
 far  future  day  :  "  Out,  out,  spot !  here  is 
 the  smell  of  blood  still ;  all  perfumes  will 
 not  sweeten  this  hand ;" — 
 "  Will  all  the  mighty  ocean  wash  this  blood 
 Clean  from  my  hand  ?     No ;  this  my  hand 
 
 will  rather 
 The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine. 
 Making  the  green  one  red."  Ihid. 
 
 MURDER— Heart. 
 
 Heart  murder  is  the  secret  wishing  or 
 designing  the  death  of  any  man;  yea, 
 the  Scripture  saith,  "  Whosoever  hateil 
 his  brother  is  a  murderer"  (1  Johniii,  15) 
 We  have  instances  of  this  kind  of  murder 
 in  Ahab  (1  Kings  xxii,  9) ;  Jezebel  (1 
 Kings  xix,  2)  ;  the  Jews  (Mark  xi,  18) ; 
 David  (1  Sam.  xxv,  21,  22);  Jonah  (ch. 
 iv,  1,  4).  C.  Buck. 
 
 MURDER— Punishment  of. 
 
 According  to  the  Divine  law,  murder  is 
 to  be  punished  with  death  (Dent,  xix,  11, 
 12;  1  Kings  ii,  28,  29).  It  is  remark- 
 able that  God  often  gives  up  murderers  to 
 
 3y 
 
610 
 
 MURMUrvING. 
 
 the  terrors  of  a  guilty  conscience  (Gen.  iv. 
 13,  15,  23,  24).  Such  are  followed  with 
 many  instances  of  Divine  vengeance  (2  Sam. 
 xii,  9,  10) ;  their  lives  are  often  shortened, 
 (Ps.  Iv,  23) ;  and  judgment  of  their  sins  are 
 oftentimes  transmitted  to  posterity  (Gen. 
 xlix,  7 ;  2  Sam.  xxi,  1).  C.  Buck. 
 
 MURMURINa— Check  to. 
 
 The  Lord  of  the  harvest  has  certainly 
 the  right  to  come  and  take  from  the  tield 
 any  part  of  His  grain,  in  whatever  con- 
 dition it  may  be.  He  may  pluck  it  up  in 
 the  spiral  tiny  blade,  or  in  the  blooming 
 ear ;  or.  He  may  let  it  grow  until  it  bend 
 under  its  own  weight,  and  shine  in  its 
 golden  richness.  It  does  not  become  the 
 grain  to  murmur  at  the  conduct  of  the 
 proprietor.  It  was  his  grain  before  it  was 
 sown,  his  land  in  which  it  was  sown,  his 
 servants  which  sowed  it.  Has  the  grain 
 no  right  to  complain  of  its  proprietor  ? 
 No  more  have  we  of  God  in  any  of  His 
 doings  with  ns.  Can  He  not  do  as  He 
 choose  with  His  own  ?  Shall  not  the 
 Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 MURMUEING— Danger  of. 
 
 I  have  read  of  Csesar,  that,  having  pre- 
 pared a  great  feast  for  his  nobles  and 
 friends,  it  so  fell  out  that  the  day  appointed 
 was  so  extremely  foul,  that  nothing  could 
 be  done  to  the  honour  of  the  meeting ; 
 whereupon  he  was  so  displeased  and  en- 
 raged that  he  commanded  all  them  that 
 had  bows  to  shoot  up  their  arrows  at 
 Jupiter,  their  chief  god,  as  in  defiance  of 
 him  for  that  rainy  weather;  which,  when 
 they  did,  their  arrows  fell  short  of  heaven 
 and  fell  upon  their  own  heads,  so  that 
 many  of  them  were  very  sorely  wounded. 
 So  all  our  murmurings,  which  are  as  so 
 many  arrows  shot  at  God  himself,  they 
 will  returri  upon  our  own  pates'  hearts; 
 they  reach  not  Him,  but  they  will  hit  us ; 
 they  hurt  not  Him,  but  they  will  wound 
 us ;  therefore  it  is  better  to  be  mute  than 
 to  murmur  ;  it  is  dangerous  to  provoke  a 
 "  consuming  fire  "  (Heb.  xii).     T.  Brooks. 
 
 MURMURING— Evil  of. 
 
 Seneca  hath  his  similitude  to  set  out  the 
 great  evil  of  murmuring  under  small  afflic- 
 tions. Suppose,  saith  he,  a  man  to  have  a 
 very  fair  house  to  dwell  in,  with  very  fair 
 orchards  and  gardens,  set  about  with  brave 
 tall  trees  for  ornament ;  what  a  most  un- 
 reasonable thing  were  it  in  this  man  to 
 murmur  because  the  wind  blows  a  few 
 leaves  off"  the  trees,  though  they  hang  full 
 of  fruit.  If  God  take  a  little  and  give  us 
 much,  shf.ll  we  be  discontent  ?  If  He  take 
 our  son  and  give  us  His  own  ;  if  He  cause 
 the  trees  to  bring  forth  the  fruit,  shall  we 
 
 be   angry   if    the   wind    blow    away   the 
 leaves  ?  Venning. 
 
 MURMURING— Fight  against. 
 
 As  the  king  of  Syria  said  to  his  captains, 
 "  Fight  neither  with  small  nor  great,  but 
 with  the  king  of  Israel,"  so  say  I,  Fight 
 not  so  much  against  this  sin  or  that,  but 
 fight  against  your  murmuring,  which  is  a 
 mother-sin ;  make  use  of  all  your  Christian 
 armour,  make  use  of  all  the  ammunition  of 
 heaven,  to  destroy  the  mother,  and  in 
 destroying  oK  her,  you  will  destroy  the 
 daughters.  When  Goliath  was  slain,  tlie 
 Philistines  fled ;  when  a  general  in  an 
 army  is  cut  oft',  the  common  soldiers  are 
 easily  and  quickly  routed  and  destroyed : 
 so  destroy  but  murmuring,  and  you  will 
 quickly  destroy  disobedience,  ingratitude, 
 impatience,  distrust,  &c.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 MURMURING— Misery  of. 
 
 Every  murmurer  is  his  own  executioner. 
 Murmuring  vexes  the  heart,  it  wears  and 
 tears  the  heart,  it  enrages  and  inflames 
 the  heart,  it  wounds  and  stabs  the  heart. 
 Every  murmurer  is  his  own  martyr.  No 
 man  is  so  inwardly  miserable  as  the  mur- 
 murer; no  man  hath  such  inward  gripes 
 and  griefs  as  he,  such  inward  bitterness 
 and  heaviness  as  he.  Every  murmurer  is 
 his  own  tormentor ;  murmuring  is  a  fire 
 within  that  will  burn  up  all ;  it  is  an  earth- 
 quake within  that  will  overturn  all ;  it  is 
 a  disease  within  that  will  infect  all ;  it 
 is  poison  within  that  will  prey  upon  all. 
 
 Ibid. 
 MURMURING— a  Mother-sin. 
 
 As  the  river  Nile  bringeth  forth  many 
 crocodiles,  and  the  scorpion  many  serpents 
 at  one  birth,  so  murmuring  is  a  sin  that 
 breeds  and  brings  forth  many  sins  at  once. 
 It  is  like  the  monster  Hydra — cut  olf  one 
 head,  and  many  will  rise  up  in  its  room. 
 It  is  the  mother  of  harlots — the  mother 
 of  all  abominations — a  sin  that  breeds 
 many  other  sins  (Num.  xvi,  41 ;  xvii, 
 10) ;  viz.,  disobedience,  contempt,  ingrati- 
 tude, impatience,  distrust,  rebellion,  curs- 
 ing, carnality;  yea,  it  charges  God  with 
 folly,  yea,  with  blasphemy.  The  language 
 of  a  murmuring  soul  is  this :  Surely  God 
 miglit  have  done  this  sooner,  and  that 
 wiser,  and  the  other  thing  better.        Ibid, 
 
 MURMURING— Satan-like. 
 
 Murmuring  is  the  first-born  of  the  devil, 
 and  nothing  renders  a  man  more  like  to 
 him  than  murmuring.  Constantine's  sons 
 did  not  more  resemble  their  father,  nor 
 Aristotle's  scholars  their  master,  nor  Alex- 
 ander's soldiers  their  general,  than  mur- 
 murers  do  resemble  Satan.  And  as  mur- 
 muring is  Satan's  sin,  so  it  is  his  punish- 
 ment.    God  hath  given  him  up  to  a  mur- 
 
MURMURING— MUSIC. 
 
 611 
 
 muring  spirit ;  nothing  pleases  him  ;  all 
 things  go  against  hiin  ;  he  is  perpetually 
 a  muttering  and  murmaring  at  persons  or 
 things.  Now,  oh,  what  a  dreadful  thing 
 it  is  to  bear  Satan's  image  upon  us,  and  to 
 be  given  up  to  the  devil's  punishment.  It 
 were  better  not  to  be  than  tlms  to  be 
 given  up ;  and  therefore  cease  from  mur- 
 muring, and  sit  mute  under  your  sorest 
 trials.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 MURMURING— a  Time-destroying  Sin. 
 
 The  murmurer  spends  much  precious 
 time  in  musing — in  musing  how  to  get  out 
 of  such  a  trouble,  how  to  get  otf  such  a 
 yoke,  how  to  be  rid  of  such  a  burden,  how 
 to  revenge  himself  for  such  a  wrong ;  how 
 to  suijplant  sui'h  a  person,  how  to  reproach 
 those  that  are  above  him,  and  how  to 
 affront  those  that  are  below  him ;  and  a 
 thousand  other  ways  murmurers  have  to 
 expehd  that  precious  time  that  some  would 
 redeem  with  a  world.  As  Queen  Elizabeth 
 on  her  death-bed  cried  out,  "  Time,  time ! 
 a  world  of  wealth  for  an  inch  of  time." 
 The  murmurer  lavishly  and  profusely  trifles 
 away  that  precious  time  that  is  his  greatest 
 interest  iu  this  world  to  redeem.  Every 
 day,  every  hour  in  the  day,  is  a  talent  of 
 time,  and  God  expects  the  improvement  of 
 it,  and  will  charge  the  non-improvement  of 
 it  upon  you  at  last.  CtEsar,  observing  some 
 ladies  at  Rome  to  spend  much  of  their 
 time  in  making  much  of  little  dogs  and 
 monkeys,  asked  them  whether  the  women 
 in  that  country  had  no  children  to  make 
 much  of.  Ah,  murmurers,  murmurers  ! 
 you  who  by  your  murmuring  trifle  away 
 so  many  golden  hours  and  seasons  of  mercy, 
 have  you  no  Grid  to  lionour  ?  Have  you  no 
 Christ  to  believe  in  ?  Have  you  no  hearts 
 to  change,  no  sins  to  be  pardoned,  no  souls 
 to  save,  no  hell  to  escape,  no  heaven  to 
 seek  after  ?  Oh  !  if  you  have,  wliy  do  you 
 spend  so  much  of  your  precious  time  iu 
 murmuring  against  God,  against  men, 
 against  this  or  that  thing  ?  Ibid. 
 
 MURMURING  AND  CONTENTMENT. 
 Some  murmur,  when  their  sky  is  clear 
 
 And  wholly  bright  to  view. 
 If  one  small  speck  of  dark  appear 
 
 In  their  great  heaven  of  blue ; 
 And  some  with  thankful  love  are  filled 
 
 If  but  one  streak  of  light, 
 One  ray  of  God's  good  mercy,  gild 
 
 The  darkness  of  their  night. 
 
 In  palaces  are  hearts  that  ask. 
 
 In  discontent  and  pride. 
 Why  life  is  sucli  a  dreary  task. 
 
 And  all  good  things  denied  ? 
 An<l  hearts  in  poorest  huts  admire 
 
 Hew  love  has  in  their  aid 
 (Love  that  not  ever  seems  to  tire) 
 
 Such  :'Lh  provision  made. 
 
 Archbisliop  Trench. 
 
 MUSIC— Charms  of. 
 
 — Therefore  the  poet 
 Did  feign  that  Orpheus  drew  trees,  stones, 
 
 and  floods ;  [rage, 
 
 Since  nought  so  stockish,  hard,  and  full  of 
 But  music  for  the  time  doth  change  his 
 
 nature : 
 The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself. 
 Nor  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  sweet 
 
 sounds. 
 Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils ; 
 The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night. 
 And  his  aff"ections  dark  as  Erebus  : 
 Let  no  such  man  be  trusted.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh  !  it  came  over  me  like  the  sweet  South, 
 That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets. 
 Stealing  and  giving  odour.  Ibid. 
 
 Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
 
 The  hidden  soul  of  harmony.        Milton. 
 
 Can  any  mortal  mixture  of  earth's  mould 
 Breathe   such  divine,  enchanting  ravish- 
 ment ?  Ibid. 
 
 Who,  as  they  sung,  would  take  the  prison'd 
 
 soul. 
 And  lap  it  in  Elysium.  Ibid. 
 
 Music  the  fiercest  grief  can  charm. 
 
 And  fate's  severest  rage  disarm. 
 
 Music  can  soften  pain  to  ease. 
 
 And  make  despair  and  madness  please; 
 
 Our  joys  below  it  can  improve. 
 
 And  antedate  the  bliss  above.  Pope. 
 
 MUSIC— Elements  of. 
 
 There  are  two  things  which  help  to 
 make  music — melody  and  harmony.  Now, 
 as  most  of  you  know,  there  is  melody  in 
 music  when  the  different  sounds  of  the 
 same  tune  follow  each  other  so  as  to  give 
 us  pleasure;  there  is  harmony  in  music 
 when  ditFerent  sounds,  instead  of  following 
 each  other,  come  at  the  same  time  so  as  to 
 give  us  pleasure.  C.  Kingsley. 
 
 MUSIC  (Influence  of)— on  Cruelty. 
 
 Sultan  Amurath,  a  prince  notorious  for 
 his  cruelty,  laid  seige  to  Bagdad  ;  and,  on 
 taking  it,  gave  orders  for  putting  thirty 
 thousand  Persians  to  death,  notwithstand- 
 ing they  had  submitted  and  laid  down 
 their  arms.  Among  the  number  of  the 
 victims  was  a  musician,  who  entreated  the 
 officer  to  whom  the  execution  of  the  sul- 
 tan's order  was  entrusted  to  spare  him  for 
 a  moment,  that  he  might  speak  to  the 
 author  of  the  dreadful  decree.  The  officer 
 consented,  and  he  was  brought  before 
 Auuirath,  who  permitted  him  to  exhibit  a 
 specimen  of  his  art.  Like  the  musician  in 
 Homer,  he  took  up  a  kind  of  psaltery,  which 
 resembles  a  lyre,  and  has  six  strings 
 
613 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 each  side,  and  accompanied  it  with  his 
 voice.  He  sung  the  capture  of  Bagdad 
 and  the  triumph  of  Amurath.  The  pa- 
 thetic tones  and  exulting  sounds  which  he 
 drew  from  the  instrument,  joined  to  the 
 alternative  plaintiveness  and  boldness  of 
 his  strains,  rendered  the  prince  unable  to 
 restrain  the  softer  emotions  of  his  soul. 
 He  even  suffered  him  to  proceed,  until, 
 overpowered  with  harmony,  he  melted  into 
 tears  of  pity  and  repented  of  his  cruelty. 
 In  consideration  of  the  musician's  abilities, 
 he  not  only  directed  his  people  to  spare 
 those  among  the  prisoners  who  yet  re- 
 mained alive,  but  also  to  give  them  instant 
 liberty.  K.  Arvine. 
 
 MUSIC  (Influence  of)— on  the  Mind. 
 
 Of  the  solace  of  music,  nay  more,  of  its 
 influence  upon  melancholy,  I  need  not 
 look  for  evidence  in  the  universal  testi- 
 mimy  of  antiquity,  nor  remmd  such  an 
 audience  of  its  recorded  eftect  upon  the 
 gloomy  distemper  of  the  pei  v«rse  mind  of 
 Saul.  I  myself  have  witnessed  its  power  to 
 mitigate  the  sadness  of  seclusion,  in  a  case 
 where  my  loyalty  as  a  good  subject,  and 
 my  best  feelings  as  a  man,  were  more  than 
 usually  interested  in  the  restoration  of  my 
 patient ;  and  I  also  remember  its  salutary 
 operation  in  the  case  of  a  gentleman  in 
 Yorlcsliire  many  years  ago,  who  was  first 
 stupified,  and  alterwards  became  insane 
 upon  the  sudden  loss  of  all  his  property. 
 This  gentleman  could  hardly  be  said  to 
 live — he  merely  vegetated,  for  he  was 
 motionless  until  pushed,  and  did  not  speak 
 to,  nor  notice  anybody  in  the  house,  for 
 nearly  four  months.  The  first  indication 
 of  a  return  of  any  sense  appeared  in  his 
 attention  to  music  played  in  the  street. 
 This  was  observed,  the  second  time  he 
 heard  it,  to  have  a  more  decided  force  in 
 arousing  him  from  his  lethargy ;  and  in- 
 duced by  this  good  omen,  the  sagacious 
 humanity  of  his  superintendent  off"ered  him 
 a  violin.  He  seized  it  eagerly,  and  amused 
 himself  with  it  constantly.  After  six 
 weeks,  hearing  the  rest  of  the  patients  of 
 the  house  pass  by  his  door  to  their  com- 
 mon room,  he  accosted  them,  "  Good  morn- 
 ing to  you  all,  gentlemen,  I  am  quite  well, 
 and  desire  I  may  accompany  you."  In 
 two  months  more  he  was  dismissed  cured. 
 Sir  Senry  Salford. 
 
 The  power  of  music  to  fix  in  the  memory 
 tTie  sentiment  with  which  it  is  connected, 
 and  to  foster  it  in  the  heart,  has  been  un- 
 derstood in  all  ages  of  the  world.  Some  of 
 the  early  legislators  wrote  their  laws  in 
 verse,  and  sang  them  in  public  places. 
 And  many  of  the  earliest  sketches  of  ])rimi- 
 tive  history  are  in  the  measures  of  lyric 
 poetry.  In  this  manner  the  memory  was 
 aided  in  retaining  the  fiicts ;  the  ear  was 
 
 invited  to  attend  to  them;  imagination 
 threw  around  them  the  drapery  of  beauty, 
 dignity,  or  power ;  and  then  music  con- 
 voyed the  sentiment,  and  mingled  it  with 
 the  emotions  of  the  soul.  It  was  in  view 
 of  the  power  of  music  when  united  with 
 sentiment  adapted  to  affect  the  heart,  that 
 one  has  said,  "  Permit  me  to  write  the 
 ballads  of  a  nation,  and  I  care  not  who 
 makes  her  laws."  J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 MUSIC  (Influence  of)— on  the  Soul. 
 
 The  influence  of  music  upon  the  emo- 
 tions of  the  soul  is  well  known  to  every 
 one — 
 
 "There  is  in  souls  a  sympathy  with 
 sounds"  — 
 the  soul  is  awakened,  and  invited  by  the 
 spirit  of  the  melody  to  receive  the  senti- 
 ment uttered  in  the  song.  Sweet,  afl'ect- 
 ing  music — not  the  tone  of  the  piano, 
 nor  the  peals  of  the  organ — but  a  melodious 
 air,  sung  by  strong  and  well-disciplined 
 voices,  and  accompanied  by  the  flute  and 
 viol — such  music  reaches  the  fountains  of 
 thought  and  feeling,  and, 
 
 "  Untwisting  all  the  links  that  tie 
 The  hidden  soul  of  harmony," 
 it  tinges  the  emotions  with  its  own  hues, 
 whether  plaintive  or  joyous ;  and  it  fosters 
 in  the  heart  the  sentiment  which  it  con- 
 veys, whether  it  be  love  of  country,  or  of 
 God,  admiration  of  noble  achievement,  or 
 of  devoted  and  self-sacrificing  affection. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 MUSIC  (Influence  of)— on  Temper. 
 
 Music  is  one  of  the  fairest  and  most 
 glorious  gifts  of  God,  to  which  Satan  is  a 
 bitter  enemy;  for  it  removes  from  the 
 heart  the  weight  of  sorrow  and  the  fasci- 
 nation of  evil  thoughts.  Music  is  a  kind 
 and  gentle  sort  of  discipline;  it  refines 
 the  passions  and  improves  the  understand- 
 ing. Even  the  dissonance  of  unskilful 
 fiddlers  serves  to  set  off"  the  charms  of  true 
 melody,  as  white  is  made  more  conspicuous 
 by  the  opposition  of  black.  Those  who 
 love  music  are  gentle  and  honest  in  their 
 tempers.  I  always  loved  music,  and  would 
 not,  for  a  great  matter,  be  without  thei 
 little  skill  which  I  possess  in  the  art. 
 
 Luther. 
 
 An  excellent  clergyman,  possessing  much 
 knowledge  of  human  nature,  instructed  his 
 large  family  of  daughters  in  the  theory  and 
 practice  of  music.  They  were  all  observed 
 to  be  exceedingly  amiable  and  happy.  A 
 friend  inquired  if  there  was  any  secret  in 
 his  mode  of  education.  He  replied,  "  When 
 anything  disturbs  their  temper  I  say  to 
 them  sing,  and  if  I  hear  them  speaking 
 against  any  person,  I  call  them  to  sing  to 
 me,  and  so  they  have  sung  away  all  causes 
 of  discontent,   and    every   disposition    to 
 
MUSIC— MUTUAL  DEPENDENCE  AMONG  MANKIND. 
 
 613 
 
 scandal."  Such  a  use  of  this  accoinplish- 
 ment  might  serve  to  fit  a  family  for  the 
 company  of  angels.  Young  voices  around 
 the  domestic  altar,  breathing  sacred  music 
 at  the  hour  of  morning  and  evening  devo- 
 tion, are  a  sweet  and  touching  accompani- 
 ment. K.  Arvine. 
 
 MUSIC— Love  of. 
 
 Music  is  universally  appreciated  and 
 practised.  The  Enghsh  ploughhoy  sings 
 as  lie  drives  his  team,  happily  ignorant 
 whether  protection  or  free  trade  is  the 
 best ;  the  Scotch  Highlander  nialics  the 
 glens  and  gray  moors  resound  with  his 
 beautiful  song;  the  Swiss,  Tyrolese,  and 
 Carpathians,  lighten  their  labour  by  music  ; 
 the  muleteer  of  Spain  cares  little  who  is 
 on  the  throne  or  behind  it,  if  he  can  only 
 have  his  early  carol ;  the  vintager  of  Sicily 
 has  his  evening  hymn,  even  beside  the  (ire 
 of  the  burning  mount ;  the  fisherman  of 
 Naples  has  his  boat-song,  to  which  his 
 rocking  boat  beats  time  on  that  beautiful 
 sea  ;  and  the  gondolier  of  Venice  still  keeps 
 up  his  midnight  serenade.     Dr.  Camming. 
 
 MUSIC— Pre-eminence  of. 
 
 Music !  Oh,  how  faint,  how  weak, 
 
 Language  fades  before  thy  spell ! 
 "Why  should  feeling  ever  speak. 
 
 When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well  ? 
 Friendship's  balmy  words  may  pain, 
 
 Love's  are  e'en  more  false  than  they — 
 Oh  !  'tis  only  music's  strain 
 
 Can  sweetly  soothe,  and  not  betray  * 
 
 Moore. 
 MUSIC— Variety  in. 
 
 To  give  an  instance  of  the  prodigious 
 variety  that  there  is  in  m\isic,  I  have  cal- 
 culated the  number  of  tunes  in  common 
 time,  consisting  of  eight  bars  each,  which 
 may  be  played  on  an  instrument  of  one 
 octave  compass  onlv,  and  it  is  tliis;  viz., 
 27584.270157.013570.368586.999728.2991 
 76;  whereas  the  changes  on  twenty-four 
 bells  are  not  more  than  620148.401733.23 
 9 139.360000,  which  is  but  the  ^i^sggVrissij 
 part  of  the  number  of  tunes  ;  and  yet  Dr. 
 Wallis,  in  his  algebra,  demonstrates  that 
 tlie  changes  on  bells  could  not  be  de- 
 spatched in  31557.600000.000000  years. 
 If,  then,  the  instrument  were  of  as  many 
 octaves'  compass  as  any  instrument  now  in 
 use,  how  prodigiously  must  tlie  number  of 
 tunes  be  increased;  the  calculation  of 
 which  (though  much  more  intricate  and 
 operose)  would  be  equally  attainable  by 
 our  theorem.  Major  Thornycroft. 
 
 MUTUAL  DEPENDENCE  IN  CREATION. 
 
 The  mutual  dependence  whicli  obtains 
 among  material  things  is  perceived  by  us 
 on  a  moment's  reflection.  Not  one  atom 
 in  ci-eation,  for  example,  exists  by  itself  or 
 
 for  itself  alone,  but,  directly  or  indirectly, 
 influences  and  is  influenced  by  every  other 
 atom.  The  movements  of  the  tiniest  wave 
 which  rises  slowly  over  the  dry  pebble  on 
 the  beach,  marking  the  progress  of  the  ad- 
 vancing tide  in  the  inland  bay,  is  deter- 
 mined by  the  majestic  movements  of  the 
 great  ocean,  with  all  its  tides  that  sweep 
 and  circulate  from  pole  to  pole.  The  rain- 
 drop which  falls  into  the  heart  of  a  wild 
 flower,  and  rests  there  with  its  pure  and 
 sparkling  diamond  lustre,  owes  its  birth  to 
 the  giant  mountains  of  the  old  earth,  to 
 the  great  sea,  to  the  all-encompassiag  at- 
 mosphere, to  the  miglity  sun,  and  is  thus, 
 by  a  chain  of  forces,  united  in  its  existence, 
 its  figure,  its  motion,  and  its  rest,  to  the 
 most  distant  planet,  which,  beyond  the 
 ken  of  the  telescope,  whirls  along  its  path 
 on  the  mysterious  outskirts  of  space. 
 Thus,  too,  the  needle  of  the  electric  tele- 
 graph trembles  beneath  the  influence  of 
 hidden  powers  which  pervade  the  earth, 
 which  flash  in  the  thunder-storm,  awaken 
 the  hurricane,  or  burst  in  those  bright  and 
 brilliant  coruscations  that  shoot  across  the 
 midnight  of  our  northern  sky.     And  so 
 
 "  The  whole  round  earth  is  everywhere 
 Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  throne  of 
 
 God." 
 But  the  unity  which  exists  among  intelli- 
 gent and  reponsible  fersons,  their  mutual 
 dependence  and  relationship,  is  just  as  real 
 as  that  which  obtains  among  material 
 things,  and  is  far  more  wonderful,  more 
 solemn  and  important  in  its  nature,  causes, 
 and  consequences.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 MUTUAL  DEPENDENCE  AMONG   MAN- 
 KIND. 
 
 Consider,  for  example,  how,  according 
 to  the  arrangements  of  Divine  govern- 
 ment, man  is  linked  to  man  from  the 
 mere  necessities  of  his  physical  and  social 
 being. 
 
 In  this  aspect  of  our  life  it  is  evident 
 that  its  whole  history  is  one  of  mutual 
 dependence,  and  one  in  which  we  are  com- 
 pelled to  receive  and  to  give,  to  partake 
 and  to  share.  We  enter  upon  life  as  weak 
 unconscious  infants,  depending  every  mo- 
 ment on  other  eyes  to  watch  for  us,  and 
 other  hands  to  minister  to  us,  while  we 
 kindle  in  their  hearts  the  most  powei'ful 
 emotions.  But  not  less  dependent  are  we 
 on  our  fellow-creatures  for  our  continuance 
 in  life  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave.  There 
 is  not  a  thread  of  clothing  which  covers 
 our  body,  not  a  luxury  which  is  placed  on 
 our  table,  not  an  article  which  supplies  the 
 means  of  labour,  not  one  tiling  which  is 
 required  by  us  as  civilised  beings,  but  in- 
 volves the  labours  and  the  sacrifices  of 
 others  in  our  behalf — while  by  the  same 
 law  we  cannot  choose  but  contribute  to 
 their  well-being.     The  cotton  which  the 
 
614 
 
 MUTUAL  HELP-NAME. 
 
 artisan  weaves  or  wears  has  been  culti- 
 vated by  brothers  beneath  a  tropical  sun, 
 and  possibly  beneath  a  tyrant's  lash.  The 
 tea  he  drinks  has  been  gathered  for  him  by 
 brothers  on  the  unknown  hill-sides  of 
 distant  China.  A  mother  writes  a  letter 
 to  her  son  in  some  distant  spot  in  India, 
 and  conveys  it  in  silence  to  the  post-oftice, 
 perhaps  thinking  only  when  she  may  re- 
 ceive a  reply  from  her  boy.  But  how  much 
 is  done  before  that  letter  reaches  its  desti- 
 nation !  The  hands  of  unknown  brethren 
 will  receive  it,  and  transmit  it;  rapid 
 trains  will  convey  it  over  leagues  of  rail- 
 ways :  splendid  steam-ships  will  sail  with 
 it,  and  hundreds  of  hands  will  pass  it  from 
 port  to  port,  from  land  to  land.  It  is 
 watched  day  and  night,  through  calm  and 
 hurricane,  and  precious  lives  are  risked  to 
 keep  it  in  security,  until  in  silence  and  in 
 safety,  after  months  of  travel,  it  is  deli- 
 vered from  the  mother's  hand  into  the 
 hand  of  her  child !  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 MUTUAL  HELP. 
 
 "  Two,"  says  Solomon,  "  are  better  than 
 one ;  for  if  one  fall  he  can  help  the  other, 
 but  woe  unto  him  that  is  alone  when  he 
 falleth  !  "  The  cobbler  could  not  paint  the 
 picture,  but  he  could  tell  Apelles  that  the 
 shoe-latchet  was  not  quite  right,  and  the 
 painter  thought  it  well  to  take  his  hint. 
 Two  neighbours,  one  blind  and  the  other 
 lame,  were  called  to  a  place  at  a  great  dis- 
 tance. What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  blind 
 man  could  not  see,  and  the  lame  man  could 
 not  walk  !  Why,  the  blind  man  carried 
 the  lame  one  ;  the  former  assisted  by  his 
 legs,  the  other  by  his  eyes.  Say  to  no 
 one,  then,  "  I  can  do  without  you  ;"  but  be 
 ready  to  help  those  who  ask  your  aid,  and 
 then,  when  it  is  needed,  you  may  ask 
 theirs.  Smith. 
 
 The  seas  lend  silvery  rain  to  the  land, 
 The  land  its  sapphire  streams   to   the 
 ocean ; 
 The  heart    sends  blood    to   the  brain   of 
 command, 
 The  brain   to   the  heart   its   lightning 
 motion  ! 
 And  ever  and  ever  we  yield  our  breath. 
 Till  the  mirror  is  dry  and  images  death. 
 To  live 
 Is  to  give. 
 
 He  is  dead  whose  hand  is  not  opened  wide 
 
 To  help  the  need  of  a  human  brother  ; 
 He  doubles  the  life  of  his  life-long  ride, 
 Who  gives  his  fortunate  place   to   an- 
 other ; 
 And  a  tliousand  million  lives  are  his 
 
 Who  carries  the  world  in  his  sympathies. 
 To  deny 
 Is  to  die.  Anon, 
 
 MUTUAL  HELP— Need  of. 
 
 As  an  apple  in  the  hand  of  a  child  makes 
 other  children  run  after  and  consort  with 
 him,  and  share  his  sports,  so  does  He  con- 
 vert affliction,  and  the  need  we  have  of 
 each  other's  aid,  into  a  girdle  of  love,  with 
 which  to  bind  us  all  together;  just  as  no 
 one  country  produces  all  commodities,  in 
 order  that  the  different  nations,  by  mutual 
 traffic  and  commerce,  may  cultivate  concord 
 and  friendship.  How  foolish  they  are  who 
 imagine  that  all  the  world  stands  in  need 
 of  them,  but  they  of  nobody  ;  that  they 
 know  and  understand  all  things,  but  others 
 nothing;  and  that  the  wit  of  all  mankind 
 should  be  apprenticed  to  their  wisdom. 
 
 Gottkold. 
 
 N. 
 
 NAME— The  Great. 
 
 The  great  Name  in  the  Jewish  religion 
 was  Jehovah  ;  the  great  Name  in  the 
 Christian  religion  is  Jesus.        John  Bate. 
 
 NAME — Importance  of  a. 
 
 Everything  is  related  to  mystery. 
 Names  are  mysteries,  labelled.  A  thing 
 not  labelled  is  a  mystery  directly.  If  it 
 has  not  been  named,  we  look  at  it,  we 
 smell  it,  we  taste  it,  we  wonder  at  it,  and 
 finally  ask.  What  can  it  be?  Naming  is 
 tlie  annihilation  of  curiosity.  Names  are 
 disguises  put  upon  things  to  conceal  from 
 us  their  mystery.  Things  without  names 
 would  be  too  wonderful  for  us.  Only  a 
 few  people  continue  to  wonder  as  much 
 after  a  thing  is  named  as  before. 
 
 J.  Pulsford. 
 NAME— Stealing  a. 
 Who  steals  my  purse  steals  trash, 
 'lis  something,  nothing. 
 'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to 
 
 thousands. 
 But  he  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 
 Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him. 
 And  makes  me  poor  indeed.     Shakespeare. 
 
 NAME— What  is  in  a. 
 
 What's  in  a  name  ?     That  which  we  call 
 
 a  rose, 
 By  any  otlier  name  would  smell  as  sweet. 
 Ibid. 
 
 Brutus  and  Cajsar:    what   should  be    in 
 
 Cffisar  ? 
 Why  should  that  name  be  sounded  for  than 
 
 yours  ? 
 Write   them  together,  yours  is  as  fair  a 
 
 name ; 
 Sound  them,  it  doth  become  the  mouth  as 
 
 well ; 
 Weigh  them,  it  is  as  heavy;  conjure  them, 
 Brutas  will  start  as  soau  as  Cajsar.       Ibid, 
 
NAME— NATIVITY  OF  CHRIST, 
 
 615 
 
 NAME— What  is  in  a. 
 
 An  answer  to  tliis  question  depends 
 upon  the  name  which  you  mean.  A  name 
 is  generally  the  synonym  of  a  thing",  a 
 place,  or  a  person  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to 
 make  mention  by  name  of  a  certain  thing, 
 or  place,  or  person,  is  to  call  up  before  the 
 mind  all  those  things  which  we  know  to 
 belong  to  each  respectively.  Hence,  when 
 you  utter  the  name  of  some  things,  that 
 name  includes  the  characteristics  of  those 
 things,  so  far  as  known  by  those  that  hear 
 the  name.  You  say,  "  A  moss  rose."  In 
 that  name  is  contained,  in  my  mind,  all 
 that  I  remember  of  the  thing  itself,  in 
 fragrance,  beauty,  &c.  Give  me  the  name 
 of  some  places,  and  I  see  in  that  name  the 
 size,  locality,  population,  &c.,  of  those 
 pla<!es,  as  I  know  them  either  from  obser- 
 vation or  reading.  Give  the  name  of  some 
 men,  and  I  immediately  think  of  virtue, 
 intelligence,  charity,  eloquence,  &c.,  as 
 associated  with  them  ;  the  name  of  other 
 men,  and  the  opposite  associations  are 
 awoke  within  me.  Speak  or  write  the 
 name  of  God,  and  what  grand  ideas  are 
 couched  within  it !  The  name  of  Jesus, 
 what  endless  beauties,  mercies,  &c.,  are 
 embodied  there  !  The  "  new  name"  which 
 is  given  to  the  Christian  conqueror,  how 
 full  of  gracious  and  happy  meaning  ! 
 
 As  there  is  so  much  importance  in  a 
 name,  every  man  ought  to  guard  his  name. 
 Every  Christian  should  be  jealous  to  retain 
 his  name  in  untarnished  honour  and 
 purity.  As  no  heir  can  claim  the  inherit- 
 ance if  he  have  not  the  proper  name,  so 
 no  man  can  claim  heaven  if  he  have  not 
 the  7-ight  name  in  his  heart,  and  in  the 
 Lamb's  Book  of  Life.  John  Bate. 
 
 NAME  OF  CHRIST— Significance  of  the. 
 
 How  shall  we  speak  of  the  name  of  the 
 Only  Begotten  Son  of  God  ?  The  name 
 Noah  stands  for  the  human  race  of  a  single 
 earth,  but  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
 Christ  stands  for  all  earths  and  their 
 creatures,  and  for  all  heavens  and  their 
 creatures.  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  by  Him 
 and  for  Him.  The  significance  of  His 
 name,  therefore,  comprehends  the  signifi- 
 cance of  "  all  things."  His  height  is 
 higher  than  the  heavens.  His  "  depth"  is 
 deeper  than  hell.  His  "  breadth"  is  broader 
 than  the  universe,  His  "  length"  includes 
 a  past  without  beginning,  and  a  future 
 without  end.  His  fulness  answers  to  all 
 things,  and  to  all  things  which  are  in  all 
 things.  "  It  pleased  the  Father  that  in 
 Hxm  all  fulness  &\\o\\\Ci  dwell."  I}ut  the 
 i'uluess  of  the  whole  creation,  visible  and 
 
 invisible,   is  a  very  partial  expression  of 
 His  fulness.  J.  Fuhford. 
 
 NAME  OF  GOD— Incomprehensible, 
 
 What  a  thought  it  is,  that  ONE  NAME 
 should  cover  all  names;  that  One  Name 
 should  signify  more  than  all  names !  As 
 all  things  which  are  named  came  from  one 
 God,  there  must  be  a  far  greater  fulness 
 of  meaning  in  His  single  name^than  in  all 
 the  names  put  together,  of  all  the  creatures 
 and  things  in  heaven  and  earth.  The 
 earth,  and  all  that  is  in. it;  the  firmament, 
 with  all  the  stars ;  the  heavens,  with  all 
 the  angels,  are  contained  in  God,  but  they 
 do  not  contain  God..  Nothing  is  easier 
 than  to  say  the  word  universe,  and  yet  it 
 would  take  us  millions  and  millions  of 
 years  to  bestow  one  hasty  glance  upon  the 
 surface  of  that  small  portion  of  it  which 
 lies  within  the  range  of  our  glasses.  But 
 what  are  all  suns,  comets,  earths,  moons, 
 atmospheres,  seas,  rivers,  mountains,  val- 
 leys, plains,  woods,  cattle,  with  beasts, 
 fish,  fowl,  grasses,  plants,  shrubs,  trees, 
 minerals  and  metals,  compared  with  the 
 meaning  of  the  One  Name,  GOD  !  We 
 are  learning  here  under  these  heavens, 
 from  the  heavens  and  from  the  earth,  what 
 that  Name  isj  from  whom  all  things, 
 named  and  unnamed,  came.  After  death 
 — our  emancipated  souls,  our  new  eyes, 
 our  new  fi-iends,  and  the  new  scenery, 
 helping  us — we  shall  commence  anew  the 
 study  of  that  Name.  And  to  all  eternity, 
 all  that  we  shall  ever  see  and  hear  will 
 only  help  us  to  a  more  humbling,  worship- 
 ful appreciation  of  the  incomprehensibility 
 of  that  Name.  Ibid. 
 
 NATIONAL  CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 An  Englishman  would  live  twenty  years 
 in  a  house  without  knowing  his  neighbours  ; 
 a  Frenchman  would  know  all  of  them  in 
 twenty-foui>  hours.  Let  the  sociable 
 Frenchman  be  planted  among  the  tattooed 
 islanders  of  the  South  Seas,  and  in  two 
 years  he  would  be  found  tattooed ;  put  an 
 Englishman  in  the  same  position,  and  he 
 would  be  king  of  the  island  in  the  time. 
 
 Kossuth. 
 
 It  has  been  said  that  an  Irishman  is  at 
 peace  only  when  he  is  in  a  quarrel ;  a 
 Scotchman  is  at  home  only  when  he  is 
 abroad ;  an  Englishman  is  contented  only 
 while  finding  fault  with  something  or 
 somebody ;  and,  let  us  add,  that  a  captious, 
 busy,  blustering  American  is  at  the  height 
 of  fehcity  only  while  he  is  in  all  these 
 tumultuous  conditions  at  the  same  time. 
 
 I^.  L.  Magoon. 
 NATIVITY  OF  CHRIST. 
 Gloomy  night  embraced  the  place 
 
 Where  the  noble  Infant  lay ; 
 The  babe  look'd  up,  and  show'd  His  face — 
 
 In  spite  of  darkness  it  was  day. 
 
file 
 
 NATIVITY  OF  CHEIST— irATUE  iL  AlTD  SPIRITUAL  KAN. 
 
 We  saw  Thee  in  Thy  balmy  nest. 
 
 Bright  dawn  of  our  eternal  day  ! 
 We  saw  Thine  eyes  break  from  the  east, 
 
 And  chase  the  trembling  shades  away. 
 We  saw  Thee,  and  we  bless'd  the  sight, 
 We  saw  Thee  by  Thine  own  sweet  light. 
 She  sings  Thy  tears  asleep,  and  dips 
 
 Her  kisses  in  Thy  weeping  eye  ; 
 She  spreads  the  red  leaves  of  Thy  lips, 
 
 That  in  their  buds  yet  blushing  lie. 
 
 Yet  when  young  April's  husband  showers 
 
 Shall  bless  the  faithful  Maia's  bed. 
 We'll  bring  the  first-born  of  her  flowers. 
 To  kiss  Thy  feet  and  crown  Thy  head  ; 
 To  Thee,  dread  Lamb  !  whose  love  must 
 
 keep 
 The  shepherds,  while  they  feed  their  sheep. 
 Crashaw. 
 NATIVITY  OP  CHRIST— Time  of  the. 
 
 The  exact  year  of  His  birth  is  not  agreed 
 on  by  chronologers,  but  it  was  about  the 
 four  thousandth,  year  of  the  world ;  nor 
 can  the  season  of  the  year,  the  month,  and 
 day  in  which  He  was  born,  be  ascertained. 
 The  Egyptians  placed  it  in  January ; 
 Wagenseil,  in  February ;  Bochart  in 
 March  ;  some  mentioned  by  Clement  of 
 Alexandria,  in  April  ;  others  in  May. 
 Epiphanius  speaks  of  some  who  placed  it 
 in  June,  and  of  others  who  supposed  it  to 
 have  been  in  July  ;  Wagenseil,  who  was 
 not  sure  of  February,  fixed  it  probably  in 
 August;  Lightfoot,  on  the  fifteenth  of  Sep- 
 tember ;  Scaliger,  Casaubon,  and  Calvisius, 
 in  October ;  others  in  November ;  and  the 
 Latin  Church  in  December.  It  does  not, 
 however,  appear  probable  that  the  vulgar 
 account  is  right ;  the  circumstance  of  the 
 shepherds  watching  their  flocks  by  night 
 agrees  not  with  the  winter  season.  Dr. 
 Gill  thinks  it  was  more  likely  in  autumn, 
 in  the  month  of  September,  at  the  feast  of 
 tabernacles,  to  which  there  seems  reference 
 ill  John  i,  14.  The  Scriptm-e,  however, 
 assures  us  that  it  was  in  the  "  fulness  of 
 time"  (Gal.  iv,  4).  C.  Buck. 
 
 NATURAL  ATHEISM. 
 
 W^e  see,  when  God  opens  our  eyes,  that 
 we  were  before  irreligious,  toitliout  God,  or 
 rather,  Atheists  in  the  world.  We  had  by 
 nature  no  knowledge  of  God,  no  acquaint- 
 ance with  Him,  It  is  true,  as  soon  as  we 
 came  to  the  use  of  reason,  we  learned  "  the 
 invisible  tilings  of  God,  even  His  eternal 
 power  and  Godhead,  from  the  things  that 
 are  made."  Fiom  the  things  that  are 
 seen  we  inferred  the  existence  of  an 
 eternal,  powerful  Being,  that  is  not  seen. 
 But  still,  although  we  acknowledged  we 
 had  no  acquaintance  with  Him.  As  we 
 know  there  is  an  emperor  of  China,  whom 
 yet  we  do  not  know,  so  we  knew  there  was 
 a  King  of  all  the  earth  ;  yet  we  knew  Him 
 not;   indeed,  we  could  not  by  any  of  our 
 
 natural  faculties.  By  none  of  these  could 
 we  attain  tlie  knowledge  of  God.  Wo 
 could  no  more  perceive  Him  by  our  natural 
 understanding  than  we  could  see  Him  with 
 our  eyes.  For  "no  one  knoweth  the 
 Father  but  the  Son,  and  he  to  whom  tlie 
 Son  willeth  to  reveal  Him.  And  no  one 
 knoweth  the  Son  but  the  Father,  and  be 
 to  whom  the  Father  revealeth  him." 
 
 J.  IVeslei/. 
 
 NATURAL  MAN— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  natural  man  is  a  spiritual  monster. 
 His  heart  is  -where  his  feet  should  be, 
 fixed  upon  earth ;  his  heels  are  lifted  up 
 against  heaven,  which  his  heart  should  be 
 set  on.  His  face  is  towards  hell ;  his  back 
 towards  heaven.  He  loves  what  he  should 
 hate,  and  hates  what  he  should  love ;  joys 
 in  what  he  ought  to  mourn  tor,  and  mourns 
 for  what  he  ought  to  rejoice  in  ;  glories  in 
 his  shame,  and  is  ashamed  of  his  glory; 
 abhors  what  he  should  desire,  and  cies-res 
 what  he  should  abhor.  Boston. 
 
 NATURAL  MAN— cannot  Know  God. 
 
 As  the  sun  cannot  show  distinctly  what 
 it  is  in  the  bottom  of  a  muddy  pool,  so 
 God  can  never  be  distinctly  revealed  in 
 the  depths  of  a  foul  and  earthly  mind.  To 
 understand  a  philosopher  requires,  they 
 tell  us,  a  philosopher;  to  understand  pa- 
 triotism, requires  a  patriot;  to  understand 
 purity,  one  that  is  pure;  so  to  understsmd 
 God  requires  a  god-like  spirit.  Having 
 this,  God  will  as  certaiidy  be  revealed  in 
 the  soul,  as  light  through  a  transparent 
 window.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 NATURAL  AND  SPIRITUAL  MAN— State 
 of  the. 
 Egyjjt,  is  it  not  fair,  and  soft,  and 
 attractive  ?  O  how  fertile  and  flowery, 
 how  rich  and  fruitful,  how  inviting  its 
 jileasures,  how  beautiful  its  whole  aspect ! 
 Yes ;  but  it  is  the  house  of  bondage,  the 
 place  of  cruel  taskmasters,  the  land  of 
 bitter  groans  and  hidden  tears,  of  degra- 
 dation, misery,  and  mercilessness.  Over  it 
 hangs  the  death-doom  ;  its  chariots  and  its 
 mighty  men  are  to  be  wiielmed  in  de- 
 struction ;  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  shall 
 not  dwell  there.  The  desert !  O  how 
 naked,  how  appalling,  how  bleak  and  bare, 
 how  trackless  and  dangerous,  how  destitute 
 of  all  resources  to  sustain  life  !  Yes  ;  but 
 it  speaks  life  and  liberty  to  the  captive, 
 and  it  is  the  region  best  fitted  to  develop 
 the  resources  of  the  Almi-hty  One  who 
 leads  His  people  into  it.  Its  circumstances 
 of  difficulty  and  terrible  exposure  call  for 
 the  pillar  and  the  cloud;  its  utter  want  of 
 all  things  demands  the  opening  of  the 
 windows  of  heaven ;  travelling  through 
 the  land  of  drought,  the  rock  (the  smitten 
 rock)   shall  yield  water;  and  since  earth 
 
KATUSALISH— JTATUSS. 
 
 C17 
 
 denies  it,  heaven  shall  give  bread — the 
 unfailing  daily  raanna,  angels'  food;  better 
 far  than  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt !  And 
 then  the  desert,  and  the  desert  only,  leads 
 to  Canaan;  it  is  the  road  they  must  tra- 
 verse who  would  reach  the  rest  that  remains 
 for  the  people  of  God.  Amn. 
 
 irATUEALISM— Description  of. 
 
 All  pretences  of  a  supernatural  reve- 
 lation, inspiration,  or  experience,  it  rejects ; 
 finding  a  religion,  beside  which  there  is 
 no  other,  within  the  terms  of  mere  nature 
 itself;  a  universal,  philosophic,  scientific 
 religion.  In  this  it  luxuriates,  expressing 
 many  very  good  and  truly  sublime  sen- 
 timents; sentiments  of  love,  and  brother- 
 hood, and  worship ;  quoting  Scripture 
 when  it  is  convenient,  as  it  quotes  the 
 Orphic  hymns,  or  the  Homeric  and  Sybil- 
 line  verses,  and  testifying  the  profoundest 
 admiration  to  Jesus  Christ,  in  common 
 with  Numa,  Plato,  Zoroaster,  Confucius, 
 Mohammed,  and  others;  and  pei-haps  al- 
 lowing that  He  is,  on  the  whole,  the  highest 
 and  most  inspired  character  that  has  ever 
 appeared  in  the  world.  All  this,  on  the 
 level  of  mere  natui-e,  without  miracle,  or 
 incarnation,  or  resurrection,  or  new  crea- 
 tion, or  anything  above  nature.  Such 
 representations  are  only  historic  myths, 
 covering  perhaps  real  truths,  but,  as 
 regards  the  historic  form,  incredible. 
 Nothing  supernatural  is  to  be  admitted. 
 Redemption  itself,  considered  as  a  plan  to 
 raise  man  up  out  of  thraldom,  under  the 
 corrupted  action  of  nature — rolling  back 
 its  currents  and  bursting  its  restraints — is 
 a  fiction.  There  is  no  such  thraldom,  no 
 such  deliverance,  and  so  far  Christianity  is 
 a  mistake ;  a  mistake,  that  is,  in  every- 
 thing that  constitutes  its  grandeur  as 
 a  plan  of  salvation  for  the  world. 
 
 Br.  Bushnell. 
 NATURE— Adaptation  of. 
 
 Every  department  of  vegetation  is  to 
 be  regarded  as  the  very  counterpart  of,  and 
 as  suited  to  its  respective  tenants.  The 
 verdant  field  is  the  pasture  ground  of 
 flocks  and  herds,  and  of  all  the  teeming 
 armies  of  insect  life  that  feed  on  its  surface. 
 Every  forest  is  the  i-oaming  ground  of  its 
 own  v\  ild  tenants.  "  The  trees  of  the  Lord 
 are  full  of  sap" — full  of  foliage  and 
 flowi  rs  and  nutritious  fruits  for  the  use  of 
 mail  and  beast,  bird,  and  insect — "the 
 cedars  of  Lebanon  which  He  has  planted, 
 where  the  birds  make  their  nests."  Every 
 leaf  is  a  play-ground  and  a  pasture-ground 
 for  the  numerous  tribes  that  roam,  and 
 feed  and  sport  on  its  surface.  Every  flower, 
 vocal  with  the  songs  of  its  merry  tenants, 
 is  the  resort  or  the  residence  of  numerous 
 families  of  living  creatures  that  seek  plea- 
 sure or  perfume  or  nectarine  sweets,  or  a 
 
 floral  shade  or  shelter,  in  its  soft  and  quiet 
 bosom.  Every  variety  of  flower  has  its 
 own  peculiar  inhabitants  that  seek  in  it 
 protection,  food,  or  pleasure.  Indeed,  we 
 shall  everywhere  discover  a  beautiful  cor- 
 respondence between  the  animal  and  the 
 vegetable  worlds.  The  one  is  made  for  the 
 other.  Mead. 
 
 NATUES— Art  drawn  from. 
 
 The  Gothic  church  plainly  originated  in 
 a  rude  adaptation  of  the  forest  trees,  with 
 all  their  boughs,  to  a  festal  or  solemn  ar- 
 cade, as  the  bands  about  the  cleft  pillars 
 still  indicate  the  green  withs  that  tied 
 them.  No  one  can  walk  in  a  road  cut 
 through  pine  woods  without  being  struck 
 with  the  architectural  appearance  of  the 
 grove,  especially  in  winter,  when  the  bare- 
 ness of  all  other  trees  shows  the  low  arch 
 of  the  Saxons.  In  the  woods,  on  a  winter 
 afternoon,  one  will  see  as  readily  the  ori- 
 gin of  the  stained  glass  window,  with 
 which  the  Gothic  cathedrals  are  adorned, 
 in  the  colours  of  the  western  sky  seen 
 through  the  bare  and  crossing  branches  of 
 the  forest;  nor  can  any  lover  of  nature 
 enter  the  old  piles  of  Oxford  and  the  Eng- 
 lish cathedrals,  without  feeling  that  the 
 forest  overpowered  the  mind  of  the 
 builder,  and  that  his  chisel,  his  saw,  and 
 plane,  still  reproduced  its  forms,  its  spikes 
 of  flowers,  its  locust,  its  pine,  its  oak,  its 
 fir,  its  spruce.  The  Gothic  cathedral  is 
 a  blossoming  in  stone,  subdued  by  the 
 insatiable  demand  of  harmony  in  man. 
 The  mountain  of  granite  blooms  into  an 
 eternal  flower,  with  the  lightness  and  deli- 
 cate finish  as  well  as  the  aei-ial  proportions 
 and  perspective  of  vegetable  beauty. 
 
 Emerson. 
 NATUEE— Christ  Exalting. 
 
 Christ  exalted  our  whole  conception  of 
 nature  by  habitually  associating  it  with 
 the  spiritual  instruction  of  man.  He  made 
 the  wind  God's  minister  to  raise  the  mind 
 of  Nicodemus  to  a  concejition  of  the  Spirit's 
 influence;  He  quickened  the  Christian 
 energies  of  His  disciples  by  pointing  to  the 
 fields  whitening  to  harvest :  He  marked 
 the  fluttering  wings  over  the  stony  upland 
 around  the  Galilean  lake,  and  drew  a 
 warning  for  the  frivolous  and  the  flckle 
 in  all  ages  from  the  devouring  of  the  seed 
 by  the  birds  and  the  withering  of  the 
 shallow-rooted  corn.  While  nature,  in  its 
 beauty  and  hallowed  suggestiveness,  was 
 ever  present  with  Christ,  He  showed  no 
 trace  of  the  ecstasy  of  mere  indolent  con- 
 templation. He  never  paused  to  lay  on 
 the  colours  of  the  scene  painter.  Nature 
 He  viewed  as  made  for  man  ;  in  her  illu- 
 minated lettering  He  used  to  impress  upon 
 man  the  lessons  of  Divine  wisdom ;  the 
 lilies  of  the  field  were  to  be  considered  in 
 
618 
 
 NATURE. 
 
 their  monitions  to  humility,  in  their  lessons 
 of  trust  in  God,  in  their  gentle  yet  most 
 expressive  satire  on  refral  glory  and  gor- 
 geous apparel.  All  this  attests  a  state  of 
 perfect  health,  a  settled  calm  of  power  and 
 peace,  a  still  and  placid  elevation  of  soul, 
 infinitely  beyond  reach  of  any  cloud  or 
 any  wind  by  which  the  clearness  of  the  in- 
 tellectual eye  might  be  dimmed  or  its 
 calmness  fluttered.  P.  Bayne. 
 
 NATURE— Under  Christ. 
 
 In  His  miracles,  nature  is  no  longer 
 stirt',  but  fluent;  its  laws,  so  stubborn  to 
 others,  became  elastic  in  His  hands ;  before 
 Him,  each  of  its  mountains  became  a 
 plain ;  it  listens  for,  and  hears  and  obeys 
 the  highest  intimation  of  His  will. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 NATURE— Connection  of. 
 
 Each  moss, 
 Each  shell,  each  crawling  insect,  holds  a 
 
 rank 
 Important  in  the  plan  of  Him  who  framed 
 This  scale  of  beings ;  holds  a  rank  which, 
 
 lost. 
 Would  break  the  chain,  and  leave  behind  a 
 
 gap 
 Which  nature's  self  would  rue.     Thomson. 
 
 NATURE— Definition  of. 
 
 Nature  is  that  world  of  substance  whose 
 laws  are  laws  of  cause  and  effect,  and 
 whose  events  transpire,  in  orderly  suc- 
 cession, under  those  laws.       Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 NATURE— No  Deformity  in. 
 
 I  hold  that  there  is  a  general  beauty  in 
 the  works  of  God,  and  therefore  no  de- 
 formity in  any  kind  of  species  of  creature 
 whatsoever.  I  cannot  tell  by  what  logic 
 we  call  a  toad,  a  bear,  or  an  elephant  ugly, 
 they  being  created  in  those  outward  shapes 
 and  figures  which  best  express  the  actions 
 of  their  inward  forms.  And  having  passed 
 tliat  general  visitation  of  God,  who  saw 
 that  all  that  He  had  made  was  good,  that 
 is,  conformable  to  His  will,  wliich  abhors 
 deformity,  and  is  the  rule  of  order  and 
 beauty.  There  is  no  deformity  but  in 
 monstrosity,  wherein,  notwithstanding, 
 there  is  a  kind  of  beauty ;  Nature  so  inge- 
 niously contriving  the  irregular  parts  as 
 they  became  sometimes  more  remarkable 
 than  the  principal  fabric.  To  speak  yet 
 more  narrowly,  there  was  never  anything 
 ugly  or  misshapen,  but  the  chaos  ;  wherein, 
 notwithstanding,  to  speak  strictly,  there 
 was  no  deformity,  because  no  form ;  nor 
 was  it  yet  impregnant  by  the  voice  of  God. 
 Now  Nature  is  not  at  variance  with  Art, 
 nor  Art  with  Nature,  they  being  both  ser- 
 vants of  His  Providence.  Art  is  the  per- 
 fection of  Nature.  Were  the  world  now 
 as  it  was  on  the  sixth  day,  there  were  yet 
 
 a  chaos.  Nature  hath  made  one  world  and 
 Art  another.  In  brief,  all  things  are  arti- 
 ficial, for  Nature  is  the  Art  of  God. 
 
 Sir  Thomas  Browne. 
 NATURE— Glory  of  God  in. 
 
 There  are  many  sources  whence  we  may 
 derive  some  faint  glimpse  of  the  Divine 
 glory.  We  may  see  it  in  the  world  around 
 us,  wherever  we  cast  our  eyes.  We  may 
 see  it  in  the  towering  hill  and  the  sloping 
 valley,  studded  with  majestic  trees,  and 
 beautified  with  gem-like  flowers;  in  the 
 blushing  fruitage  of  the  smiling  orchard, 
 and  in  the  golden  crops  of  the  waving 
 corn ;  for  "  the  earth  is  full  of  the  good- 
 ness of  the  Lord."  We  may  see  it  stream- 
 ing forth,  like  the  eyeflash  of  Deity,  in 
 the  outburstings  of  noontide  splendour; 
 we  may  see  it  in  the  silent  pomp  of  the 
 noiseless  night — in  the  moon  walking  in 
 her  brightness  like  some  fair  spirit  wading 
 through  the  opposing  clouds  of  adversity — 
 in  the  starry  garden  of  the  firmament,  in 
 those  flowers  of  the  skies  budding  with 
 hopes  of  immortality ;  for  "  the  heavens 
 declare  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firma- 
 ment showeth  His  handy  work." 
 
 W.  J.  Brock. 
 NATURE— God  in. 
 
 A  human  mechanist  may  leave  the 
 machine  he  has  constructed  to  work  with- 
 out his  further  personal  superintendence, 
 because  when  he  leaves  it,  God's  laws  take 
 it  up,  and  by  their  aid  the  materials  of 
 which  the  machine  is  made  retain  their 
 solidity,  the  steel  continues  elastic,  the 
 vapour  keeps  its  expansive  power.  But 
 when  God  has  constructed  His  machine  of 
 the  universe.  He  cannot  so  leave  it,  or  any 
 the  minutest  part  of  it,  in  its  immensity 
 and  intricacy  of  movement,  to  itself;  for, 
 if  He  retire,  there  is  no  second  God  to 
 take  care  of  this  machine.  Not  from  a 
 single  atom  of  matter  can  He  who  made 
 it  for  a  moment  withdraw  His  superin- 
 tendence and  support.  Each  successive 
 moment,  all  over  the  world,  the  act  of 
 creation  must  be  repeated.  The  existence 
 of  the  world  witnesses  to  a  perpetuity  of 
 creating  influencte.  Active  omnipotence 
 must  flood  the  universe,  or  its  machinery 
 stops,  and  its  very  existence  terminates. 
 The  signs  of  an  all-pervading  supernatural 
 energy  meet  us  wherever  we  turn.  Every 
 leaf  waves  in  it,  every  plant  in  all  its 
 organic  processes  lives  in  it ;  it  rolls  round 
 the  clouds,  else  they  would  not  move ;  it 
 fires  the  sunbeam,  else  it  would  not  shine ; 
 and  there  is  not  a  wave  that  restlessly 
 rises  and  sinks,  nor  a  whisper  of  the  wanton 
 wind  that  "  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  but 
 bespeaks  the  immediate  intervention  of 
 God.  Caird. 
 
 His  name  ought  to  lie  in  secret  behind 
 
NATURE 
 
 619 
 
 every  one  of  our  thoughts,  and  speak  to 
 us  from  every  object  of  nature :  for  us  this 
 hright  majestic  universe  itself  should  be 
 but  as  the  shining  jewel,  on  which  His 
 image,  and  only  His,  should  stand  engraved. 
 Schiller. 
 
 Nature  is  still,  as  ever,  the  thin  veil 
 Which  half  conceals,  and  half  reveals  the 
 
 face, 
 And  lineaments  supernal  of  our  King, — 
 The  modifying  medium  through  which 
 His  glories  are  exhibited  to  man,— 
 The  grand  repository  where  He  hides 
 His  mighty  thoughts,  to  be  dug  out  like 
 
 diamonds. 
 Still  is  the  day  irradiate  with  His  glory. 
 Flowing    in    steady,    sun-streaked,    ocean 
 
 gush 
 From  His  transcendent  nature, — still    at 
 
 night 
 O'er  our  horizon  trail  the  sable  robes 
 Of  the  Eternal  One,  with  all  their  rich 
 Embroidery  and  emblazonment  of  stars. 
 
 J.  S.  Bigg. 
 
 A  present  Deity  in  all. 
 It  is  His  presence  that  dift'uses  charms 
 Unspeakable    o'er    mountain,   wood,    and 
 
 stream ; 
 To  think  that  He  who  hears  the  heavenly 
 
 choir. 
 Hearkens    complacent    to    the   woodland 
 
 song; 
 To  think   that    He  who   rolls   yon    solar 
 
 sphere. 
 Uplifts  the  warbling  songster  to  the  sky; 
 To  mark  His  presence  in  the  mighty  bow 
 That   spans   the   clouds,   as   in   the   tints 
 
 minute 
 Of  tiniest  flower ;  to  hear  His  awful  voice 
 In   thunders   speak,  and  whisper   in   the 
 
 gale; 
 To  know  and  feel  His  care  for  all  that 
 
 lives : 
 'Tis  this  that  makes  the  barren  waste  ap- 
 pear 
 A  fruitful  field,  each  grove  a  paradise. 
 
 Grahame. 
 NATURE— No  Gospel  in. 
 
 A  few  reflections  of  natural  conscience, 
 I  think,  will  be  suflicient  to  show  yoix  that, 
 as  to  the  pardon  of  sin  here,  as  to  the 
 happiness  of  the  soul  in  the  separate  state 
 he'-oaf'ter,  and  as  to  the  resurrection  of  the 
 b^^.ly  in  circumstances  of  beauty,  immor- 
 tality, and  purity — that  as  to  these  things 
 n<iture  can  give  us  no  hope  at  all.  As  to 
 the  pardon  of  sin  here,  nature  may  sigh 
 for  it,  cry  for  it,  long  for  it,  groan  for  it ; 
 but  as  Bishop  Stillingfleet  said — or  rather, 
 Howe  before  him — there  are  many  stars 
 in  the  heaven,  one  teaching  this,  and 
 another  teaching  tliat,  one  looking  this 
 way  and   another  looking  that  way;  but 
 
 there  is  no  star  in  the  heavens  pointing  a 
 poor  sinner  to  a  Saviour.  Take  the  ques- 
 tion, "  What  must  I  do  to  be  sa\  ed  ?" 
 Take  it  to  nature  in  all  her  kingdoms,  in 
 all  her  real.ns,  in  all  her  laboratories,  in 
 all  her  chambers  of  mystery  ;  take  it  here 
 and  there, .and  knock  at  every  door,  and 
 put  the  question ;  but  there  is  no  response, 
 no  answer  at  all.  Nature,  philosophy, 
 science,  all  are  dumb  to  that  great  ques- 
 tion, "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"  As 
 to  the  happiness  of  the  soul  in  the  separate 
 state  hereafter,  nature  can  tell  us  nothing 
 certain  about  that ;  it  is  iallible  conjecture, 
 not  certain  knowledge;  ardent  wish,  not 
 positive  assurance ;  a  feeble  flickerina',  not 
 undoubted  substantive,  absolute  revelation. 
 And  as  to  the  resurrection  of  the  body, 
 after  it  has  slept  the  sleep  of  a  thousand 
 generations — its  resurrection  in  beauty, 
 immortality,  and  glory — that  is  a  doctrine 
 so  peculiar  to  revelation  tliat  it  never  was 
 once  so  much  as  dreamed  of  by  any  of  the 
 sages  of  antiquity,  as  being  contained 
 within  the  whole  circle  of  Divine  truth. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 NATURE— Joy  in. 
 
 In  every  aspect  of  nature  there  is  joy; 
 whether  it  be  in  the  purity  of  virgin 
 morning,  or  the  sombre  gray  of  a  day  of 
 clouds,  or  the  solemn  pomp  and  majesty  of 
 night;  whether  it  be  the  chaste  lines  of 
 the  crystal,  or  the  waving  outline  of  distant 
 hills,  tremulously  visible  through  dim  va- 
 pours; the  minute  petals  of  the  fringed 
 daisy,  or  the  overhanging  form  of  myste- 
 rious forests.  F.  W.  Eohertson. 
 
 What  throbbings  of  deep  joy 
 Pulsate  through  all  I  see;  from  the  full 
 
 bud 
 Whose  unctious  sheath  is  glittering  in  the 
 
 moon. 
 Up  through  the  system  of  created  things 
 Even  to  the  fliaming  rt.nks  of  seraphim. 
 
 Alford. 
 NATURE— looking  at. 
 
 Standing  within  a  cathedral,  and  looking 
 through  its  stained  and  figured  windows 
 towards  the  light,  we  behold  the  forms  and 
 colours  by  the  light.  Standing  outside, 
 and  gazing  at  the  same  windows,  we  see 
 nothing  but  blurred  and  indistinct  enamel- 
 ling. Thus  the  soul,  standing  within  the 
 great  cathedral  of  God's  material  world, 
 and  looking  through  it  upward  to  the  light, 
 beholds  the  meaning  of  its  forms  and 
 colours  ;  but  standing  without  and  study- 
 ing nature  in  detail,  not  with  reference  to 
 light  pouring  through  it  from  God,  but 
 for  itself  alone,  there  is  nothing  better  seen 
 than  the  mere  material  enamelling.  The 
 meaning  of  a  tranpareney  can  be  seen 
 only  by  looking  at  the  light,  or  in  the 
 direction   of  the    light    which    is    shining 
 
620 
 
 ITATURE. 
 
 tiirnngh  it;  not  by  lookinc:  upon  it  from 
 without,  in  an  external  or  reflected  light. 
 
 Dr.  Cheever. 
 NATURE— Meanings  of. 
 
 Nature  is  the  essential  properties  of  a 
 thing,  or  that  by  which  it  is  distinguished 
 from  all  others.  It  is  used,  also,  for  the 
 system  of  the  world,  and  the  Creator  of  it; 
 the  aggregate  powers  of  the  human  body, 
 and  common  sense  (Rom.  i,  26,  27 ;  1  Coi-. 
 xi,  14).  The  word  is  also  used  in  reference 
 to  a  variety  of  other  objects,  which  we 
 shall  here  enumerate. 
 
 1.  The  Divine  nature  is  not  any  external 
 form  or  shape,  but  His  glory,  excellency, 
 and  perfections,  peculiar  to  Himself. 
 
 2.  Human  nature  signilies  the  state, 
 properties,  and  peculiarities  of  man. 
 
 3.  Good  nature  is  a  disposition  to  please, 
 and  is  compounded  of  kindness,  forbearance, 
 forgiveness,  and  self-denial. 
 
 4.  The  law  of  nature  is  the  will  of  God 
 relating  to  human  actions,  grounded  in  the 
 moral  differences  of  things.  So)ue  under- 
 stand it  in  a  more  comprehensive  sense, 
 as  signifying  those  stated  orders  by  which 
 all  the  parts  of  the  material  world  are 
 governed  in  their  several  motions  and 
 operations. 
 
 5.  The  light  of  nature  does  not  consist 
 merely  in  those  ideas  which  heathens  have 
 actually  attained,  but  those  which  are 
 presented  to  men  by  the  works  of  creation, 
 and  which,  by  the  exertion  of  reason,  they 
 may  obtain,  if  they  be  desirous  of  retaining 
 God  in  their  mind. 
 
 6.  By  the  dictates  of  nature,  with  regard 
 to  right  and  wrong,  we  understand  those 
 things  which  appear  to  the  mind  to  be 
 natural,  fit,  or  reasonable. 
 
 7.  The  state  of  nature  is  that  in  which 
 men  have  not  by  mutual  engagements, 
 implicit  or  express,  entered  communities. 
 
 8.  Depraved  nature  is  that  corrupt  state 
 in  which  all  mankind  are  born,  and  which 
 inclines  them  to  evil.  C.  Buck. 
 
 NATUEE— Music  in. 
 
 All  creation,  providence,  and  redemp- 
 tion are,  to  my  ear,  rich  in  grand  har- 
 monies. All  human  life  has  seemed  to  me, 
 as  to  Longfellow,  a  vast  and  mysterious 
 cathedral,  amid  whose  solitary  aisles  and 
 under  whose  sublime  roof  mystic  tones  and 
 melodies  perpetually  roll.  The  mood  we 
 are  in,  as  every  one  knows,  gives  meaning 
 to  every  sound.  I  hear  at  times,  from  its 
 chantry,  a  funeral  psalm  or  ])salm  of  life, 
 that  has  called  up  the  ]}Ae  faces  of  the 
 dead;  at  other  times  I  hear  mystic  sounds 
 from  the  past  and  future,  as  from  belfries 
 outside  the  cathedral ;  and  again,  at  other 
 times  and  in  other  circumstances,  a  mourn- 
 ful, melancholy,  watery  peal  of  bells,  as  is 
 heard  sometimes  at  sea  from  cities  far  off 
 
 below  the  horizon.  Walk  out  on  some 
 wild  common,  on  a  still,  frosty  night — the 
 deep  and  overwhelming  silence  is  almost 
 audible.  From  the  measureless  heights 
 and  depths  of  air  there  comes  to  us  a  rich 
 undertone — half  sound,  half  whisper — as 
 if  we  could  hear  the  crumbiing  and  falling 
 away  of  earth  and  all  created  things  in 
 nature's  process  of  interruption  and  decay; 
 the  very  sounds,  as  it  were,  of  the  lapse 
 and  rushing  of  the  sands  of  life  in  the 
 great  hour-glass  of  time.       Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 NATUEE— Poetry  in. 
 
 Poetry  has  been  called  the  art  of  feign- 
 ing; but  all  who  have  ever  looked  into 
 things  know  it  is  much  rather  the  art  of 
 revealing  :  for  there  is  not  a  leaf  or  a  line 
 in  the  volume  of  creation,  but  would  be 
 most  excellent  poetry  if  faithfully  trans- 
 lated; and  all  good  poems  are  but  such 
 translations.  There  is  no  wind  so  vulgar 
 but  it  may  be  turned  into  music;  all  the 
 fragrances  of  Paradise  are  sleeping  in  the 
 dullest  clod;  and  out  of  the  commonest 
 sunbeams  may  be  drawn  the  colours  of  the 
 rainbow.  Poetry,  indeed,  is  a  universal 
 presence,  though  not  to  be  discei-ned  by 
 us  except  it  be  alive  within  us :  it  is  in 
 our  breath,  it  is  under  our  feet ;  it  nestles 
 here,  it  whispers  there ;  it  springs  up  from 
 the  cradle,  hovers  round  the  altar,  watches 
 at  the  tomb ;  it  has  its 
 
 "  Dwelling  in  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
 And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 
 And  the  blue  sky,  and  in   the  mind  of 
 man ;" 
 
 in  a  word,  it  is  the  impassioned  expression, 
 the  breathing  eloquence  which  is  in  the 
 face  of  all  nature ;  but  it  takes  "  the  vision 
 and  the  faculty  divine,"  to  give  it  an 
 understanding  and  a  tongue.  In  the 
 hands  of  genius,  the  dryest  stick  becomes 
 an  Aaron's  rod,  and  buds  and  blossoms  out 
 in  Poetry.'  Is  he  a  Burns  ?  the  sight  of  a 
 mountain  daisy  unseals  the  fountains  of 
 his  nature,  and  he  embalms  the  "  bonny 
 gem"  in  the  beauty  of  his  spirit.  Is  he  a 
 Wordsworth  ?  at  his  touch  all  nature  is 
 instinct  with  feeling ;  the  spirit  of  beauty 
 springs  up  in  the  footsteps  of  his  going, 
 and  the  darkest,  nakedest  grave  becomes  a 
 sunlit  bank  empurpled  with  blossoms  of 
 life.  S.  N.  Hudson. 
 
 NATUEE  —Providence  in. 
 
 On  what  side-  soever  we  turn  our  eyes, 
 we  meet  this  great  mistress  (Providence) 
 with  a  hundred  arms,  and  as  many 
 hands,  which  incessantly  travel  to  do  us 
 good.  It  enlighteneth  us  in  the  beauty  of 
 stars  and  lights,  it  warmeth  us  in  flames, 
 it  refresheth  us  in  the  air,  it  delighteth  us 
 in  the  enamel  of  meadows,  it  moisteneth  us 
 in  the  streaming  of  crystal  fountains,  it 
 
NATURE. 
 
 621 
 
 profiteth  and  enricTieth  in  the  fertility  of 
 fields;  so  many  trees  and  slirubs,  such  di- 
 versity of  fruits,  such  wholesome  herbs, 
 such  a  great  quantity  of  viands  so  well 
 divided  into  all  the  seasons  of  the  year ;  so 
 many  living  creatures,  some  whereof  come 
 from  the  water,  others  from  tlie  earth,  the 
 rest  from  the  air,  every  part  of  the  world 
 bringing  its  tribute;  so  many  medicinable 
 v.aiAi-s,  so  many  rivers  which  afford  such 
 delicious  shores  to  the  land  for  commerce, 
 and  all  humane  accommodations. 
 
 N.  Caiissin. 
 NATURE— Redemption  of. 
 
 And  not  by  word  alone,  but  also  by  preg- 
 nant symbol,  it  was  declared  that  this 
 redemption  was  a  part  of  that  work  which 
 the  Son  of  Man  came  to  effect.  For  I 
 cannot  doubt  that  there  was  a  symbolic 
 pointing  at  what  had  been  lost  and  what 
 was  to  be  won  back,  in  the  fact  of  the 
 temptation  of  our  blessed  Lord  finding 
 place  in  the  ivilderness.  The  garden  and 
 the  wilderness  are  thus  set  forth  to  us  as 
 the  two  opposite  poles.  By  sin  the  first 
 Adam  lost  the  garden,  which  henceforward 
 disappeared  from  the  earth,  so  that  the 
 very  site  of  it  has  since  been  sought  in  vain; 
 and  from  that  day  forth  the  wilderness 
 was  man's  appointed  home.  Christ,  there- 
 fore, the  second  Adam,  taking  up  the  con- 
 flict exactly  at  the  point  where  the  first 
 Adam  had  left  it,  and  inheriting,  so  to 
 speak,  all  the  consequences  of  his  defeat, 
 did,  in  the  wilderness,  do  battle  with  the 
 foe,  and  triumphing  in  righteousness,  won 
 back  the  garden  for  man — which,  though 
 we  see  it  not  yet.  will  in  due  time  unfold 
 itself  from  Him  and  as  one  of  the  fruits  of 
 His  victory ;  for  the  centre  being  won,  the 
 circumference  will  be  won  also.  We  re- 
 cognise a  slight  hint  of  the  meaning  that 
 lay  in  making  the  wilderness  the  scene  of 
 this  areat  conflict,  in  that  which  one  evan- 
 gelist alone  records,  and  which  might,  at 
 first  sight,  seem  but  as  a  stroke  added  to 
 enhance  the  desolate  savageness  of  His 
 abode :  "  He  was  with  the  wild  beasts" 
 (IVIark  i,  13).  But  surely  it  means  that  in 
 Him,  the  ideal  man,  the  prerogatives  of 
 Paradise  were  given  back  ;  the  fear  of  Him 
 and  the  dread  of  Him  was  over  all  the 
 beasts  of  the  field  ;  "  He  was  with  them" 
 and  they  harmed  Him  not,  but  did  rather 
 own  Him  as  their  rightful  Lord. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 NATURE— Regeneration  of. 
 
 There  is  a  regeneration  of  man  (Tit.  iii, 
 5),  but  the  same  word  {naXiyyiviaia)  is 
 most  significantly  applied  to  nature  also, 
 and  expresses  that  great  and  transcendent 
 change  which  for  it  also  is  in  store  (Matt. 
 xix,  28).  There  is  for  it  also  a  new  birth ; 
 for  so  much  this  word  thus  applied  assures 
 
 us,  not  less  than  for  man — a  casting  off  of 
 its  old  and  wrinkled  skin — a  resurrection 
 morn,  when  it,  too,  shall  put  on  its  easter 
 garments;  when,  as  some  foster-nurse,  it; 
 shall  share  in  the  glory  of  the  royal  child 
 whom  it  has  reared  ;  and  who  at  length 
 ascended  the  throne  of  His  kingdom,  ia 
 mindful  of  her  in  whose  lap  in  times  past 
 He  has  been  nurtured.  Man's  regeneration 
 is  indeed  a  present  one,  and  nature's  in 
 the  main  a  future;  yet  are  they  but  work- 
 ing in  narrower  and  wider  spheres  of  the 
 same  almighty  power,  and  so  may  thus 
 justly  be  called  by  the  same  name.      Ibid. 
 
 NATURE— a  Relief. 
 
 'Tis  thus  to  work  her  baneful  power. 
 
 Suspicion  waits  the  sullen  hour 
 
 Of  fretfulness  and  strife. 
 When  care  the  infirmer  bosom  wrings. 
 Or  Eurus  waves  liis  murky  wings 
 
 To  damp  the  seats  of  life. 
 
 But  come,  forsake  the  scene  unbless'd 
 Which  first  beheld  your  faithful  breast 
 
 To  groundless  fears  a  prey  ; 
 Come  where,  with  my  prevailing  lyre. 
 The  skies,  the   streams,  the   groves    con- 
 spire 
 
 To  charm  your  doubts  away. 
 
 Throned  in  the  sun's  descending  car, 
 What  power  unseen  diffuseth  far 
 
 This  tenderness  of  mind  ? 
 What  genius  smiles  on  yonder  flood? 
 What  God  in  whispers  from  the  wood 
 
 Bids  every  thought  be  kind  ?   Akenside. 
 
 NATURE— Relief  in. 
 
 If  thou  art  worn  and  hard  beset 
 
 With  sorrows  that  thou  wouldst  forget; 
 
 If  thou  wouldst  read  a  lesson  that  will 
 
 keep 
 The  heart  from  fainting,  and  the  soul  from 
 
 sleep. 
 Go  to  the  woods  and  hills !     No  tears 
 Dim  the  sweet  look  that  Nature  wears. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 NATURE— Religion  of. 
 
 There  is  religion  in  everything  around 
 us,  a  calm  and  holy  religion  in  the  un- 
 breathing  things  of  nature,  which  man 
 would  do  well  to  imitate.  It  is  a  meek 
 and  blessed  influence,  stealing  in,  as  it 
 were,  unawares  upon  the  heart;  it  comes 
 quickly,  and  without  excitement;  it  has 
 no  terror,  no  gloom  in  its  approaches ;  it 
 does  not  rouse  up  the  passions;  it  is  un- 
 trammelled by  the  creeds,  and  unshadowed 
 by  the  superstitions  of  man;  it  is  fresh 
 from  the  hands  of  its  Author,  glowing  from 
 the  immediate  presence  of  the  Great  Spirit 
 which  pervades  and  quickens  it;  it  is 
 written  on  the  arched  sky,  it  looks  out 
 from  every  star ;  it  is  on  the  sailing  cloud 
 and  in  the  invisible  wind;  it  is  among;  the 
 
622 
 
 NATURE. 
 
 hills  and  valleys  of  the  earth,  where  the 
 shrubless  inountain-top  pierces  the  thin 
 atmosphere  of  eternal  winter,  or  where  the 
 mighty  forest  fluctuates  before  the  strong 
 wind,  witli  its  dark  waves  of  green  foliage; 
 it  is  spread  out,  like  a  legible  language, 
 upon  the  broad  face  of  the  unsleeping 
 ocean;  it  is  the  poetry  of  nature;  it  is 
 this  which  uplifts  the  spirit  within  us, 
 until  it  is  strong  enough  to  overlook  the 
 shadows  of  our  place  of  probation;  which 
 breaks,  link  after  link,  the  chain  that 
 binds  us  to  materiality,  and  which  opens 
 to  our  imagination  a  world  of  spiritual 
 beauty  and  holiness.  Buskin. 
 
 NATURE— Report  of. 
 
 Nature  will  be  reported.  All  things  are 
 engaged  in  writing  their  history.  The 
 planet,  the  pebble,  goes  attended  by  its 
 shadow.  The  rolling  rock  leaves  its  sci-atches 
 on  the  mountain ;  the  river,  its  channel  in 
 the  soil ;  the  animal,  its  bones  in  the  stra- 
 tum ;  the  fern  and  leaf,  their  modest 
 epitaph  in  the  coal.  The  falling  drop 
 makes  its  sculpture  in  the  sand  or  the 
 stone.  Not  a  foot  steps  into  the  snow  or 
 along  the  ground,  but  prints,  in  charac- 
 ters more  or  less  lasting,  a  map  of  its 
 march.  Every  act  of  the  man  inscribes 
 itself  in  the  memories  of  its  fellows,  and 
 in  his  own  manners  and  face.  The  air  is 
 full  of  sounds,  the  sky  of  tokens,  the 
 ground  is  all  memoranda  and  signatures, 
 and  every  object  covered  over  with  hints, 
 which  speak  to  the  intelligent.     Emerson. 
 
 NATURE— ahove  Science. 
 
 There  is  an  older  and  nobler  astronomy 
 than  that  which  names  and  numbers  the 
 stars,  and  maps  them  down  into  nautical 
 charts.  Night,  star-tongued,  has  other 
 and  wiser  lessons  for  us  than  come  through 
 our  modern  optic-glasses.  The  heavens 
 made  their  best  revelations  before  telescopes 
 were  invented;  the  telescope,  I  suspect, 
 may  shut  out  more  of  wisdom  than  it  lets 
 in.  Doubtless  botany  has  its  value;  but 
 the  flowers  knew  how  to  preach  divinity 
 before  men  knew  how  to  dissect  and  bota- 
 nise  them  ;  they  are  apt  to  stop  preaching 
 though,  so  soon  as  we  begin  to  dissect  and 
 botanise  them.  Our  modern  safety-lamps, 
 after  all,  are  good  for  nothing  but  to  guide 
 our  footsteps  downwards;  if  we  wisli  to 
 walk  on  the  earth,  not  into  it,  we  had 
 better  let  the  same  old  sun,  which  has 
 always  been  shining,  shine  upon  us  still; 
 for  we  may  be  assured  that  he  is  as  much 
 better  as  he  is  older  than  any  lamps  or 
 torches  we  can  devise.  We  have  indeed 
 learned  to  dig  up  various  agreeable  sensa- 
 tions out  of  the  ground;  but  the  happiness 
 which  faU<i,  unsought,  "down  from  God's 
 bosom  Silently,"  is  no  very  modern  dis- 
 covery. JI.  N.  Hudson. 
 
 NATURE— above  Science. 
 
 Nature  was  before  science.  Science 
 comes  out  of  nature.  There  would  never 
 have  been  any  of  the  sciences  in  minds, 
 books,  &c.,  if  they  had  not  previously  ex- 
 isted in  nature.  Man's  mind  is  not  the 
 cause,  but  the  occasion  or  medium  through 
 which  science  flows  from  nature  into  the 
 intellectual  world.  John  Bate. 
 
 NATURE— our  Servant. 
 
 For  look  now  around  then  on  the  universe, 
 
 behold  how  all  things  serve  thee; 
 The  teeming  soil,  and  the  buoyant  sea,  and 
 
 undulating  air, 
 Golden    crops,    and    bloomy    fruits,    and 
 
 flowers,  and  precious  gems. 
 Choice    perfmnes,    and    fair    sights,    soft 
 
 touches,  and  sweet  music : 
 For  thee,  shoaling  up  the  bay,  crowd  the 
 
 finny  nations. 
 For  thee,  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills 
 
 live,  and  labour,  and  die  : 
 Light  is  thy  daily  slave,  darkness  inviteth 
 
 thee  to  slumber ; 
 Thou  art  served  by  the  hands  of  beauty, 
 
 and  sublimity  kneeleth  at  thy  feet. 
 
 Tujiper. 
 NATURE— under  Sin. 
 
 Sin  has  so  far  unmade  the  world,  that 
 the  Divine  order  is  broken.  The  laws  are 
 all  in  action  as  at  the  first,  never  discon- 
 tinued or  annihilated,  but  the  false  foct  or 
 lying  wonder  of  sin  has  made  false  con- 
 junctiims  of  causes,  and  set  the  currents  of 
 causality  in  a  kind  of  malign  activity, 
 which  displaces  for  ever  the  proper  order 
 of  nature.  It  is  with  nature  as  with  a 
 watch  in  which  some  wheel  has  been  made 
 eccentric  in  its  motions  by  abuse.  The 
 whole  machinery  is  in  disorder,  though  no 
 one  part  is  wanting.  It  is  no  longer  a 
 watch  or  timekeeper,  but  a  jumble  of  use- 
 less and  absurd  motions.  So  nature,  under 
 sin,  is  no  longer  nature,  but  a  condition  of 
 unnature.  Dr.  BushnelL 
 
 NATURE— Sinners'  views  of. 
 
 They  behold  the  face  of  nature  as  beasts 
 do  a  picture,  only  viewing  the  outside  and 
 surface  of  it  rudely  and  superficially,  never 
 considering  art  or  curiosity  in  it.  As  the 
 horse  and  mule  which  have  no  understand- 
 ing, they  view  and  drink  of  the  stream, 
 but  mind  not  the  purity  or  clarity  of  the 
 water,  or  the  B^ouutain  whence  it  flows. 
 These  look  on  God's  works,  at  best,  but  as 
 passengers  on  a  clock  to  know  the  time  of 
 day,  but  take  no  notice  of  the  wheel  and 
 poises,  and  their  several  motions  and  con- 
 trivances. G.  Swinnock. 
 
 NATURE— Spiritual  use  of. 
 
 Natural  beings  are  as  spades,  wherewith 
 we   may   open   the    mines,   and   dig    out 
 
NATURE. 
 
 623 
 
 spiritual  riches.  He  that  has  a  gracious 
 fancy  may,  like  the  hee,  suck  honey  from 
 every  flower  in  tlie  garden  of  the  creation  ; 
 and  climb  up  by  the  stairs  of  the  meanest 
 creature  to  the  supreme  and  infinite  Creator. 
 All  objects,  to  a  wise  Christian,  may  be 
 wings  to  mount  him  up  to  heaven.  As  the 
 old  Romans,  when  they  saw  the  blue  stones, 
 thought  of  Olymptis,  so  the  holy  person  by 
 every  work  is  elevated  to  admire  some  ex- 
 cellency in  the  Workman.       O.  SwinnocJc. 
 
 NATURE— Stoicism  of. 
 
 A  comely  face  hath  Nature,  but  no  heart. 
 
 None  ! — Are  you  sad  ?  she  smiles.    Is  your 
 
 grief  past. 
 And  gladness  come  ?     Her  skies  are  over- 
 cast, 
 In  your  chameleon  moods  she  hath  no  part : 
 Praise  her — your  warmest  words  will  ne'er 
 
 impart 
 A  flusli  the  more  to  her  full  loveliness — 
 Flout  her,  and  she  will  olier  you,  no  less, 
 Flowers,  fruitage,  all  the  affluence  of  her  art; 
 Die,  she  will  send  her  merriest  birds  to  sing 
 Outside  upon  your  window,  and  upon  your 
 
 brow 
 Shed  showers  of  sunbeams,  in  bright  over- 
 flow :  [fl'iig 
 Go  down  into  your  grave  —no  cloud  will 
 Its  shade,  in  sorrow  that  your  tale  is  told; 
 She  is  a  comely  mother,  but  stone-cold. 
 
 A.  L.  Westwood. 
 NATURE— Teachings  of. 
 The  daily  labour  of  the  bee 
 Awake  my  soul  to  industry  : 
 Who  can  observe  the  careful  ant. 
 And  not  provide  for  future  want  ? 
 My  dog  (the  trustiest  of  his  kind) 
 "With  gratitude  inflames  my  miud ; 
 I  mark  his  true  and  faithful  way. 
 And  in  my  service  copy  Ti-ay. 
 In  constancy  and  nuptial  love, 
 I  learn  my  duty  from  the  dove. 
 The  hen,  who,  from  the  chilly  air. 
 With  pious  wings  protects  her  carej 
 And  every  fowl  that  flies  at  large, 
 Instructs  me  in  a  parent's  charge. 
 
 Gay. 
 NATURE— Transformations  of. 
 
 The  extraordinary  ti'ansformations  which 
 insects  undergo  have  struck  men's  ima- 
 ginations so  powerfully  in  contemplating 
 this  subject  that  tlie  soul  itself  was  deemed 
 to  be  aptly  designated  under  the  emble- 
 matical form  of  a  butterfly,  which,  having 
 emerged  from  the  chrysalis  state,  flutters 
 in  the  air,  instead  of  continuing  to  crawl 
 on  the  earth,  as  it  did  before  the  worm  it 
 once  was  ceased  to  exist.  The  metamor- 
 phosis of  insects  from  grubs  into  moths 
 and  flies  is  an  astonishing  process.  A  hairy 
 caterpillar  is  transformed  into  a  butterfly. 
 Observe  the  change.  We  have  four  beauti- 
 ful wings  where  there  were  none  before; 
 
 a  tubular  proboscis,  instead  of  a  mouth 
 with  jaws  and  teeth;  six  long  legs  instead 
 of  fourteen  feet.  In  another  case  we  see  a 
 white,  smooth,  soft  worm  turned  into  a 
 black,  hard  crustaceous  beetle,  with  gauze 
 wings.  Nor  are  these  transformati(5ns 
 confined  to  the  animal  creation.  St.  Paul, 
 in  arguing  for  the  resurrection  of  the  iden- 
 tical body,  adduces  the  example  of  the 
 growth  of  wheat ;  and  it  has  been  well 
 observed  that,  in  the  abstract,  the  growth 
 of  a  blade  of  grass  or  corn  is  as  truly  a 
 miracle  as  the  raising  of  the  dead.  How 
 wonderful  the  transition  from  the  minute 
 germ  to  the  full-grown  sheaf!  Even  in- 
 organic nature  (witness  the  modern  doc- 
 trine of  aUotrofism)  is  suliject  to  the  law 
 of  change.  Ozone  is  only  a  particular  con- 
 dition of  oxygen;  but  its  properties  are 
 very  dift'erent.  Allotropic  phosphorus  is 
 very  unlike  the  same  substance  in  its  ordi- 
 nary state ;  it  is  not  liable,  for  instance,  to 
 spontaneous  combustion  ;  nor  does  it  send 
 forth  poisonous  exhalations.  And  probably 
 many  of  our  readers  are  aware  that  the 
 diamond  is  merely  a  highly  developed  form 
 of  charcoal.  Anon. 
 
 NATURE— Types  of.. 
 
 What  wonderful  provision  God  has  made 
 for  lis,  spreading  out  the  Bible  into  types 
 of  nature ! 
 
 What  if  every  part  of  your  house  should 
 begin  to  repeat  the  truths  which  have  been 
 committed  to  its  symbolism  ?  The  lowest 
 stone  would  say  in  silence  of  night,  "  Other 
 foundation  can  no  man  lay."  Tiie  corner 
 stone  would  catch  the  word,  "Christ  is  the 
 corner-stone."  The  door  would  add,  "  I 
 am  the  door."  The  taper  burning  hj  your 
 bedside  would  stream  up  a  moment  to  tell 
 you,  "  Christ  is  the  light  of  the  world."  If 
 you  gaze  upon  your  children,  they  reflect 
 from  their  sweetly  sleeping  faces  the  words 
 of  Christ,  "  Except  ye  become  like  little 
 children."  If  waking,  you  look  towards 
 your  parents'  couch,  from  that  sacred  place 
 God  calls  himself  your  father  and  your 
 mother.  Disturbed  by  the  crying  of  your 
 children,  who  are  aftrighted  in  a  dream, 
 you  rise  to  soothe  them,  and  hear  God 
 saying,  "  So  will  I  wipe  away  all  tears 
 from  your  eyes  in  heaven."  Returning  to 
 your  bed,  you  look  from  the  window. 
 Every  star  hails  you,  but  chiefest,  "the 
 bright  and  morning  Star."  By-and-by, 
 flaming  from  the  east,  the  flood  of  morning 
 bathes  your  dwelling,  and  calls  you  forth 
 to  the  cares  of  the  day,  and  then  you 
 remember  that  God  is  the  Sun,  and  that 
 heaven  is  bright  with  His  presence.  Drawn 
 by  hunger,  you  approach  the  table.  The 
 loaf  whispers  as  you  break  it,  "  Broken 
 for  you,"  and  the  wheat  of  the  loaf  sighs, 
 "  Bruised  and  ground  for  you."  The  water 
 that  quenches  your  thirst  says,  "  I  am  the 
 
624 
 
 NATURE— NECESSITY. 
 
 water  of  life."  If  you  wash  your  hands, 
 you  can  but  remember  the  teachings  of 
 spiritual  purity.  If  you  wash  your  feet, 
 that  hath  been  done  sacredly  by  Christ  as 
 a  memorial.  The  very  roof  of  your  dwell- 
 ing hath  its  utterance,  and  bids  you  look 
 for  the  day  when  God's  house  shall  receive 
 its  top-stone. 
 
 Go  forth  to  your  labour,  and  what  thing 
 can  you  see  that  hath  not  its  message  F 
 The  ground  is  full  of  sympathy.  The 
 flowers  have  been  printed  with  teachings. 
 The  trees,  that  only  seem  to  shake  tlieir 
 leaves  in  sport,  are  framing  Divine  sen- 
 tences. The  birds  tell  of  heaven  with  their 
 love-warblings  in  the  green  twilight.  The 
 sparrow  is  a  preacher  of  truth.  The  hen 
 clucks  and  bi'oods  her  chickens,  unconscious 
 that  to  the  end  of  the  world  she  is  part 
 and  parcel  of  a  revelation  of  God  to  man. 
 The  sheep  that  bleat  from  the  pastures, 
 the  hungry  wolves  that  blink  in  the  forest, 
 the  serpent  that  glides  noiselessly  in  the 
 grass,  the  raven  that  flies  heavily  across  the 
 field,  the  lily  over  which  his  shadow  passes, 
 the  plough,  the  sickle,  the  wain,  the  barn, 
 the  flail,  the  thrashing  floor,  all  of  them 
 are  consecrated  priests,  unrobed  teachers, 
 revelators  that  see  no  vision  themselves, 
 but  that  bring  to  us  thoughts  of  truth, 
 contentment,  hope,  and  love.  All  are  minis- 
 ters of  God.  The  whole  earth  doth  jjraise 
 Him,  and  show  forth  His  glory. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 NATURE— Uniformity  in. 
 
 While  the  laws  of  nature  have  been  so 
 framed  by  the  Great  Architect  as  to  secure 
 a  specific  variety  througiiout  the  wide 
 domains  of  all  organized  beings,  it  is  a 
 fact,  not  the  less  interesting,  that  the 
 same  laws  as  certainly  secure  a  general 
 uniformity  throughout  the  entire  range  of 
 animal  and  vegetable  life.  There  every- 
 where appears  a  unity  of  design  and  com- 
 position. Every  species  of  animals  or  of 
 vegetables  is  made  after  the  same  model, 
 yet  how  unlike  !  Every  tree  or  plant  has 
 the  same  general  form,  structure,  and 
 functions  of  life  and  growth.  Evei-y  mem- 
 ber of  the  great  family  of  man,  every  in- 
 dividual horse,  sheep,  or  dog,  conforms  to 
 one  original  pattern.  A  deviation  from  this 
 makes  a  monster.  And  not  only  does 
 every  individual  of  every  species  bear  the 
 unmistakeable  mark  of  a  general  uni- 
 formity, bnt  every  member  and  function 
 presents  the  same  marks.  Tliough  the 
 ears,  nose,  eyes,  or  hands  of  no  two  in- 
 dividuals are  alike,  yet  no  two  vary  so 
 much  that  you  are  in  the  least  danger  of 
 mistaking  them  as  the  corresponding 
 members  of  any  other  animals,  or  to  lead 
 to  doubt  whether  they  are  shaped  after 
 the  same  model.  We  are  in  no  danger  of 
 mistaking  the  nose  of  a  dog  or  a  pig  for  1 
 
 that  of  a  man.  Nature's  laws  of  uni- 
 formity are  as  rigidly  adhered  to  as  those 
 of  variety.  Read. 
 
 NATURE— Weakness  of. 
 
 Ask  Nature  what  she  has  done  for  the 
 lonely  child  of  the  forest  and  the  prairie ; 
 has  she  ever  taught  Jiim  to  recognise  the 
 true  immensity  of  his  heritage,  or  to  feel 
 that,  degraded  as  it  is,  he  wears  a  nature 
 that  a  God  need  not  refuse  to  wear  ?  Or 
 does  not  he — as  all — turn  from  the  heavens 
 above  him  to  his  kindred  earth,and  (though 
 few  may  be  his  outward  solicitings  to 
 guilt)  "  say  to  corrujition,  Tliou  art  my 
 father;  to  the  worm.  Thou  art  my  mother 
 and  my  sister  \"  (Job  xvii,  14.)  Nature 
 can  teach  discontent  with  this  world,  but 
 there  her  lesson  well  nigh  closes  ;  she  talks 
 but  vaguely,  and  feebly,  and  falsely  of 
 another !  Archer  Butler. 
 
 NATURE,  ART,  ARTIFICE. 
 
 Nature  is  mighty.  Art  is  mighty.  Ar- 
 tifice is  weak.  For  Nature  is  the  work 
 of  a  mightier  power  than  man.  Art  is  the 
 work  of  man,  under  the  guidance  and  in- 
 spiration of  a  mightier  power.  Artifice  is 
 the  work  of  mere  man,  in  ithe  imbecility 
 of  his  mimic  understanding.  Hare. 
 
 NATURE  AND  RELIGION. 
 
 Nature  and  religion  are  two  opposites ; 
 I  mean  by  nature,  corrupted  nature;  and 
 by  religion,  true  religion.  It  is  nature  to 
 be  "dead  in  sins;"  it  is  religion  to  be 
 "dead  to  sin."  It  is  nature  to  be  "re- 
 probate to  every  good  work  ;"  it  is  religion 
 to  be  "  ready  to  every  good  work."  It  is 
 nature  to  be  a  "  lover  of  one's  self;"  reli- 
 gion to  "  deny  one's  self."  It  is  nature 
 for  a  man  to  "  seek  only  his  own  profits;" 
 religion  to  "serve  others  by  love."  Nature 
 esteems  preaching  the  cross  folly;  religion 
 the  "  power  of  God  to  salvation." 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 NECESSITY— Power  of. 
 
 Even  God  is  said  to  be  unable  to  use 
 force  against  necessity.  Blalo. 
 
 Necessity  is  stronger  far  than  art. 
 
 ASscyhis. 
 
 For  necessity  is  stronger  than   human 
 nature.  Dionysiiis. 
 
 Not  mine 
 This  saying,  but  the  sentence  of  the  sage, 
 Nothing  is  stronger  than  necessity. 
 
 Mtiripides. 
 NECESSITY— Imposition  of. 
 
 Necessity  imposes  law,  does  not  herself 
 receive  it.  Hamaye. 
 
NATURE,  LEAEUING,  THAININC— NEW  BIP.TH. 
 
 NATURE,  LEARNING,  TRAINING. 
 
 Nature  without  learning  is  like  a  blind 
 man  ;  learning  without  nature  is  like  the 
 maimed ;  practice  without  both  these  is 
 incomplete.  As  in  agriculture  a  good  soil 
 is  first  sought  for,  then  a  skilful  husband- 
 man, and  then  good  seed;  in  the  same 
 way  nature  corresponds  to  the  soil ;  the 
 teacher  to  the  husbandman  ;  precepts  and 
 instruction  to  the  seed.  Plutarch. 
 
 NATURES— Noble. 
 
 As  we  know  the  odorous  vines  of  rare  and 
 exquisite  flowers  which  are  grown  behind 
 high,  opaque  garden  walls,  only  by  the 
 fragrance  which  they  waft  to  us  tlirough 
 the  air,  while  they  themselves  are  invisi- 
 ble ;  so  are  we  conscious  of  the  heavenly  and 
 spiritual  elements  of  noble  nature  about 
 us,  rather  by  their  effect  upon  us  than  by 
 any  open  spectacle  of  them. 
 
 E.  W.  Beecher. 
 NEGLIGENCE— Evil  of. 
 
 In  persons  grafted  in  a  serious  trust. 
 Negligence  is  a  crime.        Shakespeare. 
 
 NEGLIGENCE— Fruits  of. 
 
 The  best  ground  untilled  soonest  runs 
 out  into  rank  weeds.  A  man  of  knowledge 
 that  is  either  negligent  or  uncorrected, 
 cannot  but  grow  wild  and  godless. 
 
 Bp.  Sail. 
 NEIGHBOUR -My. 
 
 Thy  neighbour  ?  'Tis  that  toiling  slave, 
 
 Fetter'd  in  thought  and  limb. 
 Whose  hopes  are  all  beyond  the  grave : 
 
 Go  thou  and  ransom  him. 
 Thy  neighbour  ?  'Tis  that  weary  man 
 
 Whose  years  are  at  the  briiu. 
 Bent  down  by  sickness,  care,  and  pain  : 
 
 Go  thou  and  comfort  him. 
 Thy  neighbour  ?    'Tis  the  fainting  poor, 
 
 Whose  eyes  with  want  are  dim, 
 Whom  hunger  drives  from  door  to  door : 
 Go  thou  and  cherish  him.  Anon. 
 
 NEUTRALITY— Curse  of. 
 
 What  do  we  mean  by  the  expression 
 which  we  so  often  use,  "  Clirist's  militant 
 Church  upon  earth  ?"  What  but  this,  that 
 every  church  is  a  fighting  church  ?  Tell 
 me  not,  then,  of  neutrality  :  neutr;dity 
 is  out  of  the  question  here.  Neutrality .' 
 Ah !  here  is  a  case  of  neutrality  upon  re- 
 cord in  this  Book  :  "  Curse  ye  Meroz  !" 
 Why  ?  what  had  they  done  to  expose  them- 
 selves to  this  bitter  malediction  ?  Had 
 they  taken  up  arms  against  Jehovah  ?  No  ! 
 Had  they  gone  over  to  the  ranks  of  the 
 enemy,  and  fought  against  the  chosen 
 people  ?  No  !  What,  then,  had  they  done  ? 
 Nothing !  Their  neutrality  was  their 
 crime  : — "  Because  they  came  not  up  to  the 
 help  of  the  Lord,  to  the  hi-l;)  of  tlie  Lord 
 against  the  migu;j."  Ur.  R.  Newton. 
 
 NEUTRALITY— Wise  or  Evil. 
 
 Neutrality  in  things  good  or  evil  is 
 both  odious  and  prejudicial;  but  in  mat- 
 ters of  an  indifferent  nature  is  safe  and 
 commendable.  Herein  taking  of  parts 
 niaketh  sides,  and  breaketh  unity.  In  an 
 unjust  cause  of  separation,  he  that  favoureth 
 both  parts  ma^',  perhaps,  have  least  love  of 
 either  side,  but  hath  most  charity  in  liim- 
 self.  'Bp.  Hall. 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Ai;thor  of  the. 
 
 As  the  mighty  change  from  bleak,  cold, 
 sterile  winter  into  sweet,  genial,  beautiful 
 spring  takes  place  by  an  agency  out  of  it 
 and  above  it ;  so,  except  a  man  be  changed 
 from  the  barrenness  of  his  moral  natui-e 
 to  the  fruitfulness  of  Divine  grace — by 
 the  power  of  God  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  be 
 changed  at  all.  The  light  which  shone 
 into  primeval  darkness,  and  the  order 
 which  came  into  primeval  confusion ;  de- 
 scended from  above — God  the  Creator ;  so 
 the  light  and  order  of  the  unrenewed  soul, 
 if  produced  at  all,  must  be  produced  by 
 God  the  Spirit.  John  Bate. 
 
 If  not  the  slightest  movement  of  matter 
 can  take  place  without  the  immediate 
 agency  of  God,  shall  we  wonder  that  His 
 agency  is  needed  in  the  higher  and  more 
 subtle  processes  of  mind  ?  It  every  echoing 
 wind  bespeak  a  present  Deity,  shall  it  seem 
 strange  to  appeal  to  His  power  in  the  re- 
 generation of  a  soul  ?  Each  time  the  fur- 
 row opens  to  the  ploughshare,  or  the  sail 
 of  the  vessel  expands  to  the  breeze,  we  call 
 in  the  aid  of  a  jiiysterious  agency,  without 
 which  human  efforts  were  vain.  Can  it  be 
 matter  of  surprise  that  the  same  myste- 
 rious agency  must  be  invoked  in  every 
 effort  to  break  up  the  hardened  soil  of  tlie 
 human  heart,  or  to  communicate  to  the 
 dull  and  moveless  spirit  of  man,  an  impulse 
 towards  a  nobler  than  earthly  destiny  ? 
 
 Dr.  Caird. 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Before  and  After  the. 
 
 Before  a  child  is  born  into  the  world  ho 
 has  eyes,  but  sees  not ;  he  has  ears,  but 
 does  not  hear.  He  has  a  very  imperfect 
 use  of  every  other  sense.  He  has  no  know- 
 ledge of  any  of  the  things  of  the  world,  or 
 any  natural  understanding.  To  that  man- 
 ner of  existence  which  he  tlien  has  we  do 
 not  even  give  the  name  of  life.  It  is  then 
 only,  when  a  man  is  born,  that  we  say — 
 He  begins  to  live.  For  as  soon  as  he  is 
 born,  he  begins  to  see  the  light,  and  the 
 various  objects  with  which  he  is  encom- 
 passed. His  ears  are  then  opened,  and  he 
 hears  the  sounds  which  successively  strike 
 upon  them.  At  the  same  time  all  the  otlier 
 organs  of  sense  begin  to  be  exercised  ujion 
 their  proper  objects.  Ke  likewise  breathes 
 40 
 
626 
 
 NEW  BIRTH. 
 
 and  lives  in  a  manner  wholly  diflferent  from 
 what  he  did  belbi-e.  How  exactly  doth  the 
 parallel  hold  in  all  these  instances  !  While 
 a  man  is  in  a  mere  natural  state,  before  he 
 is  born  of  God,  he  has,  in  a  spiritual  sense, 
 eyes,  and  sees  not ;  a  thick  impenetrable 
 veil  lies  upon  them.  He  has  ears,  but 
 hears  not ;  he  is  utterly  deaf  to  what  he  is 
 most  of  all  concerned  to  hear.  His  other 
 spiritual  senses  are  all  locked  up ;  he  is  in 
 the  same  condition  as  if  he  had  them  not. 
 Hence  he  has  no  knowledge  of  .God,  no 
 in tei  course  with  Himj  he  is  not  at  all 
 acquainted  with  Him.  He  has  no  true 
 knowledge  of  the  things  of  God,- either  of 
 spiritual  or  eternal  things.  Therefore, 
 though  he  is  a  living  man,  he  is  a  dead 
 Christian.  But  as  soon  as  he  is  born  of 
 God,  there  is  a  total  change  in  all  these 
 particulars.  The  "  eyes  of  his  understand- 
 ing are  opened"  (such  is  the  language  of  the 
 great  apostle),  and  He  who  of  old  "  com- 
 manded light  to  shine  out  of  darkness, 
 shining  on  his  heart,  he  sees  the  light  of 
 the  glory  of  God,"  His  glorious  love,  "  in 
 the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.''  His  ears  being 
 opened,  he  is  now  capable  of  hearing  the 
 inward  voice  of  God,  saying,  "  Be  of  good 
 cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee;  go,  and 
 sin  no  more."  This  is  the  purport  of  what 
 God  speaks  to  his  heart ;  although,  per- 
 haps, not  in  those  very  words.  He  is  now 
 ready  to  hear  whatsoever  "  He  that  teacheth 
 man  knowledge"  is  pleased  from  time  to 
 time  to  reveal  to  him.  He  "  feels  in  his 
 heart  (to  use  the  language  of  our  Church) 
 the  mighty  working  of  the  Spirit  of  God  j" 
 not  in  a  gross,  carnal  sense,  as  the  men  of 
 the  world  stupidly  and  wilfully  misunder- 
 stand the  expression;  though  they  have 
 \een  told  again  and  again,  we  mean  there- 
 by neither  more  nor  less  than  this  :— he 
 feels,  is  inwardly  sensible  of  the  graces 
 which  the  Spirit  of  God  works  in  his  heart. 
 He  feels,  he  is  conscious  of  a  "  peace  which 
 passeth  all  understanding."  He  many 
 times  feels  "  such  a  joy  in  God  as  is  un- 
 speakable and  full  of  glory."  He  feels  the 
 "  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by 
 the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  unto  him." 
 And  all  his  spiritual  senses  are  then  exer- 
 cised to  discern  spiritual  good  and  evil. 
 By  the  use  of  these,  he  is  daily  increasing 
 in  the  knowledge  of  God,  of  Jesus  Christ 
 whom  He  hath  sent,  and  of  all  the  things 
 pertaining  to  His  inward  kingdom.  And 
 now  he  may  be  properly  said  to  live  :  God 
 having  quickened  him  by  His  Spirit,  he  is 
 alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  He 
 lives  a  life  which  the  world  knovveth  not 
 of,  a  life  tohich  is  hid  toilh  Christ  in  God. 
 God  is  continually  breathing,  as  it  were, 
 upon  his  soul,  and  his  soul  is  breathing 
 unto  God.  Grace  is  descending  into  his 
 heart,  and  prayer  and  praise  ascending 
 into   heaven.      And   by    this    intercourse 
 
 between  God  and  man,  this  fellowship  with 
 the  Father  and  the  Son,  as  by  a  kind  of 
 spiritual  respiration,  the  life  of  God  in  the 
 soul  is  sustained;  and  the  child  of  God 
 grows  up,  till  he  comes  to  the  "  full 
 measure  of  the  stature  of  Christ." 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Definition  of  the. 
 
 It  is  that  great  change  which  God  works 
 in  the  soul,  when  He  brings  it  into  life ; 
 when  He  raises  it  from  the  death  of  sin  to 
 the  life  of  righteousness.  It  is  the  change 
 wrought  in  the  whole  soul  by  the  Almighty 
 Spirit  of  God,  when  it  is  "created  anew 
 in  Christ  Jesus,"  when  it  is  "  renewed  after 
 the  image  of  God,  in  righteousness  and 
 true  holiness  ;"  when  the  love  of  the  world 
 is  changed  into  the  love  of  God,  pride  into 
 humility,  passion  into  meekness;  hatred, 
 envy,  malice,  into  a  sincere,  tender,  disin- 
 terested love  for  all  mankind.  In  a  word, 
 it  is  that  change  whereby  the  earthly,  sen- 
 sual,  devilish  mind  is  turned  into  the 
 "mind  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus."  This 
 is  the  natm-e  of  the  New  Birth.  "  So  is 
 every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit."    Ibid. 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Earthly  Changes  not  the. 
 
 A  man  may  pass  from  the  lowest  igno- 
 rance into  the  highest  intelligence ;  he  may 
 exchange  the  most  degraded  poverty  for 
 the  most  exalted  riches ;  he  may  come 
 out  of  the  greatest  obscurity  into  the 
 largest  publicity;  he  may  rise  from  the 
 narrowest  circle  of  influence  into  the  widest 
 sphere  of  power ;  in  a  word,  he  may  pass 
 from  one  extreme  to  another  in  all  things, 
 moral,  intellectual,  political,  social,  civil, 
 and  through  them,  and  in  them  all,  he 
 may  still  retain  his  innate  bias  to  evil  and 
 aversion  to  good,  and  continue  a  stranger 
 to  the  new-birth  as  it  exists  in  the  saving 
 grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  No  earthly 
 change  whatever  can  be  a  substitute  for 
 the  change  which  comes  fi-om  above; 
 any  more  than  the  lights  of  earth  will 
 suffice  for  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars ;  any 
 more  than  all  the  possible  changes  through 
 which  a  potter  may  pass  a  piece  of  clay 
 can  convert  it  into  the  bright,  round,  pure, 
 stamped,  golden  coin  of  the  realm. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Necessity  of  the. 
 
 As  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  insect 
 in  its  chrysalis  state  to  observe  the  laws 
 which  are  made  for  its  transformed  state^ 
 for  the  worm  to  know  the  laws  which  make 
 the  summer  fly  seek  the  sunshine  and  live 
 upon  the  flower — as  it  must  be  "born 
 again,"  and  enter  upon  a  new  existence 
 before  it  can  keep  the  laws  of  that  new  ex- 
 istence ;  so  only  the  new  creature  can  keep 
 the  new  commandment — love. 
 
 a  Stanford. 
 
NEW  BIRTH— NEW  CREATURE. 
 
 627 
 
 NEW  BIRTH— Necessity  of  the. 
 
 Jesus  said  unto  Nicodemus,  "  Except  a 
 man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  king- 
 ilom  of  God."  Mark,  Jesus  did  not  say, 
 He  shall  not,  but  he  cannot.  The  natural 
 antipathy  to,  and  unfitness  for  the  spiritual 
 and  eternal  Church  of  God,  on  the  part  of 
 the  imrenewed,  renders  their  entrance 
 therein  a  simple  and  abstract  impossibility. 
 There  is,  therefore,  no  more  need  for  us  to 
 say  to  a  sinner,  You  shall  not  go  to  heaven 
 as  you  are,  than  there  is  for  us  to  say  to  a 
 blind  man.  You  shall  not  see  ;  or  to  a  deaf 
 man,  You  shall  not  hear  ;  or  to  a  babe  just 
 born.  You  shall  not  read  Hebrew ;  or  to  a 
 mule.  You  shall  not  sing ;  or  to  a  stone. 
 You  shall  not  fly.  The  fact  is,  they  cannot, 
 because  they  have  not  the  capabilities.  So 
 of  the  unrenewed  sinner.  We  need  not 
 say  he  shall  not,  because  of  God's  power,  or 
 any  other  attribute  ;  he  cannot,  because  he 
 has  not  the  capability.  Only  the  new 
 birth  can  give  him  this.  John  Bate. 
 
 Suppose  it  possible  for  God  to  forgive 
 the  sins  of  the  sinner  without  renewing 
 his  nature  ;  this  would  not  ensure  a  "  new- 
 ness of  life."  He  might  go  from  the 
 Divine  presence,  and  immediately  rush  into 
 his  former  course  of  sinning.  It  is  neces- 
 sary that  he  should  receive  a  change  of 
 heart,  to  give  him  a  bias  of  will,  a  ten- 
 dency of  desire,  a  power  of  action  which 
 shall  lead  him  into  a  new  life  correspond- 
 ing with  his  new  nature.  Without  this 
 change  there  can  be  no  new  life  in  relation 
 to  the  Gospel,  although  it  were  possible 
 for  the  sinner  to  obtain  the  forgiveness  of 
 sin.  Ibid 
 
 NEW  BIRTH — Reformation  is  not  the. 
 
 A  sculptor  may  take  a  piece  of  rough 
 marble,  and  work  from  it  the  figure  of  a 
 Madonna,  but  it  is  still  nothing  but  marble 
 and  lifeless.  A  carver  may  take  a  piece  of 
 wood  and  work  out  of  it  a  scene  of  convi- 
 viality, but  it  is  still  wood  and  insensible. 
 A  watch-cleaner  may  take  a  watch,  the 
 main-spring  of  which  is  broken ;  he  may 
 clean  every  wheel,  cog,  pin,  hand,  the  face, 
 and  the  cases,  but  the  main-spring  not  rec- 
 tified, it  will  be  as  useless  for  going  and 
 time-telling  as  before.  A  painter  may  de- 
 corate the  outside  of  a  pest-house  with  the 
 most  beautiful  colours;  but  if  he  produce 
 no  change  within,  it  is  still  a  pest-house. 
 A  poor  man  may  clothe  himself  in  the  garb 
 of  a  monarch,  but  he  is  still  a  poor  man.  A 
 leper  may  cover  all  his  spots  with  his  gar- 
 ment, but  he  is  still  a  leper.  So  the  sinner 
 may  reform  in  all  the  externals  of  his  life,  so 
 that  he  shall  attain  to  the  mo.-al  finery  of 
 Saul  of  Tarsus,  or  Nicodemus,  a  Piaster  in 
 Israel,  but  except  he  be  born  agbiin  feom 
 ABOVE,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdon.  of  God. 
 Ibid. 
 
 NEW  CREATURE— Formation  of  the. 
 
 The  first  formation  of  this  spiritual  as 
 well  as  of  the  natural  man  was  hidden 
 and  secret ;  it  was  curiously  wrought,  and 
 in  a  way  no  more  liable  to  observation 
 than  that  of  framing  the  child  in  the 
 womb,  as  that  is  as  hidden  as  the  con- 
 coction of  minerals  or  precious  stones  in 
 the  lower  parts  of  the  earth ;  no  secrets  of 
 nature  can  outvie  the  mysteries  of  god- 
 liness. Its  growth  is  also,  by  very  in- 
 sensible degrees,  as  it  is  with  the  products 
 of  nature;  but  its  arrival  to  perfection  is 
 infinitely  more  strange  than  anything  in 
 nature  ever  was.  How  sudden  and  won- 
 derful is  the  change  !  when,  in  the  twink- 
 ling of  an  eye,  the  blessed  soul  instantly 
 awakes  out  of  drowsy  languishings  and 
 miserable  weakness,  into  perfect  strength 
 and  vigour  !  John  Howe. 
 
 NEW  CREATURE— Immortality  of. 
 
 When  Xerxes  destroyed  all  the  temples 
 in  Greece,  he  caused  the  temple  of  Diana 
 to  be  preserved  for  its  beautiful  structure  ; 
 the  new  creature  is  God's  temple  adorned 
 with  all  the  graces,  which  he  will  not 
 suifer  to  be  demolished.  Riches  take 
 wings ;  kings'  crowns  tumble  in  the  dust ; 
 nay,  some  of  the  graces  may  cease  ;  faith 
 and  hope  shall  be  no  more,  but  the  new 
 creature  abideth  ever.  T.  Watson. 
 
 NEW  CREATURE— Sinneth  not. 
 
 He  that  is  by  faith  born  of  God  sinneth 
 not,  (1)  by  any  habitual  sin;  for  all 
 habitual  sin  is  sin  reigning.  But  sin 
 cannot  reign  in  any  that  believeth.  Nor 
 (2)  by  any  wilful  sin ;  for  his  will,  while 
 he  abideth  in  the  faith,  is  utterly  set 
 against  all  sin,  and  abhorreth  it  as  deadly 
 poison.  Nor  (3)  by  any  sinful  desire ;  for 
 he  continually  desireth  the  holy  and  perfect 
 will  of  God ;  and  any  tendency  to  an  un- 
 holy desire  he,  by  the  grace  of  God,  stifleth 
 in  the  birth.  Nor  (4)  doth  he  sin  by  infir- 
 mities, whether  in  act,  word,  or  thought. 
 For  his  infirmities  have  no  concurrence  of 
 his  will,  and  without  this  they  are  not  pro- 
 perly sins.  Thus,  "  He  that  is  born  of 
 God  doth  not  commit  sin."  And  though 
 he  cannot  say  he  hath  not  sinned,  yet  now 
 "  he  sinneth  not."  J.  Wesley. 
 
 NEW  CREATURE— Triumphs  of  the. 
 
 This  man  "  born  of  God,"  "  begotten  of 
 God  after  His  own  likeness;"  this  hero, 
 this  son  of  God,  was  born  to  conflicts,  to 
 victories,  to  triumphs.  While  he  is  yet  but 
 in  his  growing  age,  "  he  overcomes  the 
 world,"  as  Hercules  the  serpents  in  his 
 cradle  "  overcomes  the  wicked  one,"  and  is 
 at  last  "  more  than  conqueror." 
 
 John  Howe. 
 
623 
 
 NEWS— HEW  TESTAMENT. 
 
 NEWS— Desiring. 
 
 The  news !  our  morning,  noon,  and  even- 
 ing cry. 
 
 Day  after  day  repeats  it  till  we  die. 
 
 For  this  the  cit,  the  critic,  and  the  fop, 
 
 Dally  the  hour  away  in  Tonsor's  shop ; 
 
 For  this  the  gossip  takes  her  daily  route, 
 
 And  wears  your  threshold  and  your  pa- 
 tience out ; 
 
 For  this  we  leave  the  parson  in  the  lurch. 
 
 And  pause  to  prattle  on  the  way  to  church  ; 
 
 Even  when  some  coffin'd  friend  we  gather 
 round, 
 
 We  ask,  "  What  news  ?" — then  lay  him  in 
 the  ground,  Sprague. 
 
 NEWS— m. 
 
 Ill  news 
 Are    swallow-winged,    but    what's     good 
 walks  on  crutches.  Massinger. 
 
 When  ill  news  comes  too  late  to  be  ser- 
 viceable to  thy  neighbour,  keep  it  to  your- 
 self. Zimmerman. 
 
 NEWS  AND  NEWSPAPERS. 
 
 Plutarch  notes  that  the  country  people 
 were  very  busy  in  inquiring  into  their 
 neighbours'  affairs.  The  inhabitants  of 
 cities  thronged  the  court  and  other  public 
 places,  as  the  Exchange  and  quays,  to  hear 
 the  ne\vs.  The  old  Gauls  were  very  great 
 newsmon;:ers  ;  so  much  so,  says  C'sesar, 
 that  tliey  even  stopped  travellers  on  this 
 account,  who  deceived  them,  and  thus 
 brought  error  into  their  counsels.  Juvenal 
 notices  the  keenness  of  the  Roman  women 
 for  deluges,  earthquakes,  &c.,  as  now,  for 
 wonders,  and  private  matters.  Merchants 
 and  purveyors  of  corn,  as  now  stock-jobbers, 
 used  to  invent  false  news  for  interested 
 purposes.  It  was  not  uncommon  to  put 
 the  bearers  of  bad  news  to  death.  In  the 
 middle  ages, pilgrims  and  persons  attending 
 fairs  were  grand  sources  of  conveying  in- 
 telligence. Blacksmiths'  shops,  hermit- 
 ages, &c.,  were  other  resorts  for  this  pur- 
 pose, in  common  with  the  mill  and  market. 
 Great  families  used  to  pay  persons  in  Lon- 
 don for  letters  of  news.  In  London,  as  St. 
 Paul's  Church  was  the  great  place  of  ad- 
 vertising, so  it  was  also  for  news.  In 
 'NichoUs's  Progresses,'  a  gentleman  says 
 "  that  his  lackey  had  not  walked  twenty 
 paces  in  Pawles  before  he  heard  that 
 sundry  friends  of  his  master  had  taken 
 leave  at  court,  and  were  all  shipt  away." 
 Servants  were  sent  there  on  purpose  to 
 fetch  news.  Of  the  introduction  of  news- 
 papers by  the  Gazetta  of  Venice  everybody 
 has  read.  Herbert  calls  the  'Siege  of 
 Rhodes,'  by  Caxton,  "the  antientest  Ga- 
 zette in  our  language ;"  but  to  prevent 
 the  mischief  of  false  alarms,  through  the 
 Spanish  Armada,  the  first  newsjjaper, 
 styled  the   '  English    Mercury,'   than,   as 
 
 afterwards,  in    the   shape   of  a  pamphlet, 
 appeared  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
 Fosbroke. 
 NEWSPAPERS— Circulation  of. 
 
 The  total  newspaper  circulation  for  the 
 United  Kingdom  in  1831  was  38,648,314, 
 of  which  there  were  Issued  in  England 
 32,000,000  ;  in  Ireland  4,360,564  ;  and  in 
 Scotland  2,287,750.  In  the  year  1864  the 
 daily  circulation  of  London  papers  was 
 248,000,  amounting  in  the  course  of  the 
 year  to  87,776,000 ;  the  circulation  of 
 weekly  London  papers  was  2,263,200,  mak- 
 ing for  the  year,  117,686,400;  and  the 
 total  circulation  of  London  newspapers 
 alone  was  205,462,400.  When,  in  1861,  the 
 repeal  of  the  paper  duty  was  proposed,  the 
 total  circulation  was  118,000,000,  so  that 
 it  had  nearly  doubled  since  then.  I  will 
 now  come  to  the  provincial  papers.  There 
 are  in  England  27  pr.^vincial  newspapers, 
 with  a  daily  circulation  of  263,000;  in 
 Wales  1,  with  a  circulation  of  2000;  in 
 Ireland  14,  with  a  circulation  of  96,000 ; 
 in  Scotland  9,  with  a  circulation  of  77,000 ; 
 and  in  Jersey  1,  with  a  circulation  of  1000 ; 
 making  52  papers  with  an  aggregate  daily 
 circulation  of  439,000  ;  which  for  the  ye;tr 
 would  give  a  circulation  of  137,407,000 
 papers.  The  total  number  of  papers  out 
 of  London  in  1854  was  5,  with  a  daily  cir- 
 culation of  10,000;  and  the  number  is 
 at  present  52,  with  a  circulation  of  439,000 
 daily.  The  number  of  weekly  papers  pub- 
 lished out  of  London  is  now  961,  and  the 
 weekly  circulation  is  3,907,500,  and  this 
 muliiplied  for  tlie  year  would  give  a  circu- 
 lation of  203,190,000.  Add  the  daily  and 
 weekly  circulation  together,  and  they  got 
 340,597,000  as  the  total  circulation  of 
 provincial  papers  ;  and  the  grand  total  cir- 
 culation of  London  and  provincial  papers 
 is  546,059,400,  or  1313  per  cent,  more 
 than  in  1831.  Babies. 
 
 NEW  TESTAMENT— Books  of  the. 
 
 Every  book  in  the  K'ew  Testament  comes 
 to  a  distinct  and  palpaole  conclusion,  save 
 one;  every  book  you  may  perceive  at  a 
 glance,  is  sealed  by  the  apostoli(!  benedic- 
 tion, or  confirmed  by  the  catholic  amen. 
 At  a  glance  you  see  that  the  book  is  ended. 
 But  there  is  one  book  that  breaks  off  in  tiio 
 middle  and  is  unfinished;  that  book  is  the 
 Acts  of  the  Apostles.  Paul  is  found  in  his 
 own  hired  house  at  Rome  preaching  the 
 Gospel ;  there,  as  in  the  middle  of  a  sen- 
 tence, the  evangelist  writing  the  narrative 
 breaks  oft"  and  stops.  What  is  the  meaning 
 of  this?  Why,  that  in  the  sense  of  re- 
 vealers  of  doctrine  the  apostle  can  have  no 
 successors  ;  no  word  can  be  added,  no  word 
 can  be  taken  away  from  ;  the  revelation  is 
 complete  and  full,  and  woe  to  tliat  man  who 
 takes  away  from  the  words  of  that  book  or 
 
NEW  TESTAMENT— NOAH. 
 
 629 
 
 who  adds  thereto.  But  in  the  sense  of 
 evangelising  the  worid  and  going  forth  in 
 the  spirit  of  the  apostles  to  preach  the 
 Gospel  to  every  man ;  why,  in  that  sense, 
 not  ecclesiastical,  not  ritual,  but  in  a  sense 
 most  true  and  spiritual,  the  humblest  mis- 
 sionary, if  he  serve  the  Master  in  faith  and 
 love,  is  in  very  deed  a  successor  of  the  apos- 
 tles. Anon. 
 
 NEW  TESTAMENT— Morality  of  the. 
 
 All  the  genius  and  learning  of  the 
 heathen  world,  all  the  penetration  of  Py- 
 thagoras, Socrates,  and  Aristotle,  had 
 never  been  able  to  produce  such  a  system 
 of  moral  duty,  and  so  rational  an  account 
 of  Providence  and  of  man,  as  is  to  be 
 found  iu  the  New  Testament.  Seattle. 
 
 NIGHT— Advantages  of. 
 
 It  is  a  relief  to  the  eyes  from  the  constant 
 vision  of  things,  and  the  power  of  light 
 upon  them.  It  is  a  time  of  cessation  from 
 labour,  and  of  recruiting  expended  energies. 
 Is  it  not  also  a  good  to  nature  around, 
 giving  it  respite  from  the  great  influence 
 of  the  sun  upon  it  ?  By  hiding  the  beau- 
 ties of  creation  from  us  for  a  time,  night 
 prepares  us  for  their  vision  and  enjoyment 
 the  next  day.  How  many  a  mother  is 
 Aveary  with  the  incessant  claims  of  her 
 numerous  children  through  the  day,  and  is 
 hajjpy  to  have  an  interval  of  rest  in  the 
 quiet  evening  and  night,  who,  after  this 
 rest,  welcomes  with  smiles  and  kisses  in 
 the  morning  the  little  ones  that  had 
 wearied  her  on  the  previous  day.  How  the 
 tired  traveller  welcomes  night ;  the  hard- 
 worked  labourer ;  the  fast-driven  mer- 
 chant. The  broken-hearted  welcome  night 
 that  they  may  drop  their  unseen  tears  over 
 the  memory  of  those  they  dearly  loved. 
 The  lover  often  welcomes  night  for  its 
 love-dreams ;  the  student  for  its  musing 
 houi-s;  the  devotee  for  its  hours  of  medita- 
 tion and  prayers.  And  the  weary,  heavy- 
 laden  Christian  sojourner  in  life,  oh,  how  he 
 hails  the  approach  of  that  night  which  shall 
 admit  him  into  the  rest  of  his  grave,  and 
 the  joy  of  his  Lord  !  John  Bate. 
 
 NIGHT— Description  of. 
 
 'Twas  dead  of  night,  when  weary  bodies 
 
 close 
 Their  eyes  in  balmy  sleep,  and  soft  repose. 
 The  winds  no  longer  whisper  through  the 
 
 woods, 
 Nor  murm'ring  tides  disturb  the   gentle 
 
 floods. 
 The  stars  in  silent  order  moved  around  ; 
 And  peace,  with  downy  wings,  was  brooding 
 
 on  the  ground. 
 The  flocks  and  herds,  and  particolour'd  fowl. 
 Which  haunt  the  woods  or  swim  the  weedy 
 
 pool, 
 Stretch'd  on  the  quiet  earth,  securely  lay. 
 Virgil. 
 
 NIGHT— Uses  of. 
 
 Night  is  the  time  for  rest : 
 
 How  sweet,  when  labours  close. 
 To  gather  round  an  aching  breast 
 
 The  curtain  of  repose. 
 Stretch  the  tired  limbs,  and  lay  the  bead 
 Down  on  our  own  delightful  bed ! 
 
 Night  is  the  time  to  weep ; 
 
 To  wet  with  unseen  tears 
 Those  graves  of  memory  where  sleep 
 
 The  joys  of  other  years  ; 
 Hopes  that  were  angels  at  their  birth, 
 But  died  when  young  like  things  of  earth. 
 
 Night  is  the  time  to  pray ; 
 
 Our  Saviour  oft  withdrew 
 To  desert  mountains  far  away; 
 
 So  will  His  follower  do, — 
 Steal  from  the  throng  to  haunts  untrod, 
 And  commune  there  alone  with  God. 
 
 Night  is  the  time  for  death  ; 
 When  all  around  is  peace 
 Calmly  to  yield  the  weary  breath. 
 
 From  sin  and  suffering  cease. 
 Think  of  heaven's  bliss,  and  give  the  sign 
 To  parting  friends ; — such  death  be  mine. 
 J.  Montgomery. 
 NOAH— a  Type  of  Christ. 
 
 I.  Noah  was  a  saviour,  nay,  in  a  good 
 sense,  the  saviour  of  the  world;  for  it 
 was  through  him,  and  by  his  means  and 
 righteousness,  there  was  a  seed  preserved 
 from  the  flood.  Christ  is  a  Saviour,  the 
 great  Saviour,  the  only  Saviour  of  the 
 world  ;  hence  called  Jesus. 
 
 II.  Noah  was  a  preacher  of  righteous- 
 ness, and  invited  sinners  to  repentance ; 
 Christ  was  a  preacher  of  rigliteousness, 
 and  came  on  purpose  to  call  sinners  to  re- 
 pentance. Noah's  ministry  was  despised 
 by  the  ungodly;  so  was  the  preaching 
 and  ministry  of  Jesus  Christ  by  the  unbe- 
 lieving Jews,  and  others ;  those  that  re- 
 fused and  rebelled  against  Noah  and  his 
 ministry  were  destroyed  by  water ;  and 
 those  that  refuse  and  rebel  against  Christ; 
 shall  be  destroyed  by  fire. 
 
 III.  Noah  built  an  ark  ;  so  Christ  builds 
 His  Church.  Noah  built  the  ark  accord- 
 ing to  the  commandment  of  God  ;  so 
 Cin-ist,  in  building  His  Church,  did  every- 
 thing according  to  the  commandment  re- 
 ceived from  His  Father.  Noah  took  many 
 trees  to  build  the  ark ;  so  Christ  takes 
 many  believers,  called  trees  of  righteous- 
 ness, to  build  His  Church. 
 
 IV.  Some  clean  and  some  unclean  beasts 
 were  received  into  Noah's  ark ;  so  some 
 holy  and  sanctified  persons,  and  some  un- 
 sanctified  ones,  are  received  into  Christ' 
 Church,  though  not  by  Christ's  appoint- 
 ment. 
 
 V.  All  that  were  not  received  in  the  ark 
 perished;  so  all  who  get  not  spirivUally  by 
 
NOBILITY— NOVEL-READING. 
 
 faith  into  Jesus  Christ,  or  are  not  true 
 members  of  the  visible  or  invisible  Church, 
 shall  be  damned  or  perish  eternally. 
 
 VI.  Noah's  ark  was  tossed  upon  the 
 waves,  and  yet  preserved ;  so  the  Church 
 of  Christ  is  tossed  upon  the  rough  waves 
 of  a  tempestuous  world,  and  yet  pre- 
 served. 
 
 VII.  Noah  was  the  great  repairer  of  the 
 world;  from  him  descended  all  the  inha- 
 bitants of  the  earth  ;  Christ  is  the  great 
 and  glorious  repairer  of  the  world,  and 
 from  Him  proceed  all  the  inhabitants  of 
 heaven. 
 
 VIII.  Noah  sent  a  dove  out  of  the  ark, 
 to  see  whether  or  no  the  waters  were 
 abated,  who  returned  with  an  olive  branch 
 in  her  mouth ;  Christ  sends  forth  the 
 Spirit,  called  a  dove,  or  in  the  likeness  of 
 a  dove,  who  brings  tidings  to  believing 
 souls,  that  the  wrath  of  God  is  appeased. 
 
 Keach. 
 
 NOBILITY— True. 
 
 It  is  not  wealth  nor  ancestry,  but  honor- 
 able conduct  and  a  noble  disposition,  that 
 make  men  great.  Ovid. 
 
 NOBILITY— Weight  of. 
 
 A  great  and  fatal  weight  on  him  doth  lie. 
 The  greatness  of  his  own  nobility. 
 
 Seneca. 
 
 NOTHING— Indefinable. 
 Mysterious  Nothing  !  how  shall  I  define 
 Thy  shapeless,  baseless,  placeless  empti- 
 ness ? 
 Nor  form,  nor  colour,  sound,  nor  size,  are 
 thine. 
 Nor  words,  nor    fingers,  can   thy  voice 
 express. 
 But  though  we  cannot  thee  to  aught  com- 
 pare, 
 A  thousand  things  to  thee  may  likened 
 be; 
 And  though    thou    art  with    nobody,   no- 
 where, 
 Yet  half  mankind  devote  themselves  to 
 thee. 
 How  many  books  thy  history  contain. 
 How  many  heads  thy  mighty  plans  pur- 
 sue. 
 What  lab'ring  hands  thy  portion  only  gain. 
 
 What  busy-bodies  thy  doings  only  do ; 
 To  thee  the  great,  the  proud,  the  giddy 
 bend. 
 And — like   my   sonnet — all   in  nothing 
 end.  For  son. 
 
 NOW— Importance  of. 
 
 "  Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time ;  be- 
 hold, now  is  the  day  of  salvation."  "  To- 
 morrow" is  the  devil's  great  ally — the  very 
 Goliath  in  whom  he  trusts  for  victory. 
 "  Now"  is  the  stripling  whom  God  sends 
 forth  against  him.      A  great  significance 
 
 lies  in  that  little  word.  It  marks  the  point 
 on  which  life's  battle  turns.  That  spot  is 
 the  Hougomont  of  Waterloo.  There  the 
 victory  is  lost  or  won.  Men  do  not  often 
 join  issue  against  God  on  the  person  of 
 Christ  or  the  ministry  of  the  Spirit,  on  the 
 ground  of  acceptance,  or  the  necessity  of 
 faith  ;  on  all  these  points  and  many  others 
 the  carnal  mind  readily  acquiesces  in  the 
 doctrine  of  Scripture,  like  willows  bending 
 to  the  breeze,  but  resists  Christ's  claim  to 
 be  admitted  now,  as  a  rocky  shore  resists 
 the  onset  of  the  waves.  The  worldly  will 
 freely  agree  to  be  Christian  to-morrow,  if 
 Christ  will  permit  them  to  be  worldly 
 to-day.  Arnot. 
 
 NOVEL— Description  of  a. 
 
 A  novel  was  a  book 
 
 Three-volumed,   and   once   read,   and   oft 
 cramm'd  full 
 
 Of  poisonous  error,  blackening  every  page  ; 
 
 And  oftener  still,  of  trifling,  second  hand 
 
 Remark,  and  old,  diseased,  putrid  thought. 
 
 And  miserable  incident,  at  war 
 
 With   nature,   with   itself,  and   truth,  at 
 war; 
 
 Yet  charming  still  the  greedy  reader  on, 
 
 Till     done,    he     tried    to     recollect     his 
 thoughts. 
 
 And  nothing  found  but  dreaming  empti- 
 ness. Pollock. 
 
 NOVEL-READING— Injurious. 
 
 Many  works  of  fiction  may  be  read  with 
 safety,  some  even  with  profit :  but  the 
 constant  familiarity  even  with  such  as  are 
 not  exceptionable  in  themselves,  relaxes 
 the  mind  that  wants  hardening,  dissolves 
 the  heart  that  wants  fortifying,  stirs  the 
 imagination  which  wants  quieting,  irritates 
 the  passions  which  want  calming,  and 
 above  all,  disinclines  and  disqualifies  for 
 active  virtues,  and  for  spiritual  exercises. 
 The  habitual  indulgence  in  such  reading 
 is  a  silent,  mining  mischief. 
 
 SannaJi  More. 
 
 Tlie  habit  of  novel-reading  must  inevit- 
 ably enervate  your  manhood,  and  dwarf 
 the  mind,  and  give  you  a  disrelish  for  the 
 great,  and  grand,  and  true  in  the  world 
 of  thought.  If  our  noble  youth  would  be 
 men — yes,  we  mean  manly  men — and  not 
 sink  into  effeminacy,  they  must  leave  the 
 region  of  sickly  sentimentalism,  rise  above 
 the  childish  pursuits  of  butterflies,  and  live 
 in  regions  of  lofty  thought,  and  associate 
 with  the  master-minds  of  creation,  by  pon- 
 dering over  the  productions  of  their  splen- 
 did and  affluent  genius.  This  will  enlarge 
 the  sphere  of  the  thinking  faculty,  give  it 
 quickening  impulses,  and  lead  the  mind  up- 
 ward to  all  that  is  glorious  and  Divine  in 
 the  world  of  intellect.  E,  Roberts. 
 
NOVELS— OATH  OP  STTPfiEMACY. 
 
 NOVELS— Caution  against. 
 
 Goldsmith,  who  had  himself  written  a 
 novel,  in  writing  to  his  brother  respecting 
 the  education  of  his  son,  gave  his  opinion 
 of  such  works  in  this  strong  language  : — 
 "Above  all  things  never  let  your  son  touch 
 a  novel  or  a  romance."  Bowes. 
 
 NOVELS— Mischief  of. 
 
 I  have  often  maintained  that  fiction 
 may  be  much  more  instructive  than  real 
 history.  I  think  so  still ;  but  viewing  the 
 vast  rout  of  novels  as  they  are,  I  do  think 
 they  do  incalculable  mischief.  I  wish  we 
 could  collect  them  all  together,  and  make 
 one  vast  fire  of  them ;  I  should  exult  to 
 see  the  smoke  of  them  ascend  like  that  of 
 Sodom  and  Gomorrah :  the  judgment 
 would  be  as  just.  J.  Foster. 
 
 NOVELS— Modern. 
 
 They  are  tales  of  adventures  which  did 
 not  occur  in  God's  creation,  but  only  in 
 the  waste  chambers  (to  be  let  unfurnished) 
 of  certain  human  heads,  and  which  are 
 part  and  parcel  only  of  the  Sum  of 
 Nothings ;  which,  nevertheless,  obtain 
 some  temporary  remembrance,  and  lodge 
 extensively,  at  this  epoch  of  the  world,  in 
 similar  still  more  unfurnished  chambers. 
 
 Carlyle. 
 NOVELS — Dying  Testimony  against. 
 
 Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  in  his  lifetime 
 followed  literature  with  such  avidity,  who 
 wrote  such  a  multitude  of  enchanting 
 novels,  when  he  came  to  stand  before  the 
 gates  of  death,  called  for  a  book ;  his  son- 
 in-law  asked,  "  What  book  ?"  "  There  is 
 but  one  book,"  replied  the  dying  man, 
 meaning  thereby  the  Bible ;  thus  testifying 
 against  his  own  books,  and  all  such,  as  of 
 any  use  on  the  death-bed;  and  testifying 
 of  the  Bible  as  the  only  book  to  soothe  the 
 bosom  and  soften  the  pillow  of  the  dying 
 literati,  as  well  as  the  uniustructed  poor. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 NOVELTY- Following. 
 
 New  customs. 
 Though  they  be  never  so  ridiculous, 
 Nay,  let  them  be  unmanly,  yet  are  fol 
 low'd.  8h 
 
 NOVELTY— Love  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  passions  that  possess  mankind. 
 The  love  of  novelty  rules  most  the  mind ; 
 In  search  of  this,  from  realm  to  realm  we 
 
 roam. 
 Our  fleets  come  fraught  with  every  folly 
 
 home.  Foote. 
 
 Before  I  translated  the  New  Testament 
 out  of  the  Greek,  all  longed  for  it ;  when 
 it  was  done,  their  longing  lasted  scarce 
 four  weeks.     Then  they  desired  the  boaks 
 
 of  Moses;  when  I  had  traiislated  these, 
 they  had  enough  thereof  in  a  short  time. 
 After  that,  they  would  have  the  Psalms ; 
 of  these  they  were  soon  weary,  and  desired 
 Qther  books.  So  it  will  be  with  the  book 
 of  Ecclesiastes,  which  they  now  long  for, 
 and  about  which  I  have  taken  great  pains. 
 All  is  acceptable  until  our  giddy  brains  be 
 satisfied ;  afterwards  we  let  things  lie,  and 
 seek  after  new.  Jjuther. 
 
 NOVELTY— Praising. 
 
 All   with    one    consent    praise    new-born 
 
 gauds, 
 Though    they  are    made  and  moulded  of 
 
 things  past.  Shakespeare. 
 
 OATH — Compulsory. 
 
 He  that  imposes  an  oath  makes  it, 
 Not  he  that  for  convenience  takes  it ; 
 Then  how  can  any  man  be  said 
 To  break  an  oath  he  never  made  ? 
 
 Butler. 
 OATH— Definition  of. 
 
 An  oath  is  a  solemn  affirmation,  wherein 
 we  appeal  to  God  as  a  witness  of  the  truth 
 of  what  we  say,  and  with  an  imprecation 
 of  His  vengeance,  or  renunciation  of  His 
 favour,  if  what  we  affirm  be  false,  or  what 
 we  promise  be  not  performed.  Buck. 
 
 OATH— Essence  of  an. 
 
 The  essence  of  an  oath  lies  obviously  in 
 the  appeal  which  is  thereby  made  to  God, 
 or  to  Divine  knowledge  and  power.  The 
 customary  form  establishes  this,  "  So  help 
 me  God."  The  Latin  words  (known  to 
 have  been  used  as  early  as  the  sixth  cen- 
 tury), whence  our  English  form  is  taken, 
 ran  thus : — "  Sic  me  Deus  adjuvet  et  ha;c 
 sancta  Evangelia;"  so  may  God  and  these 
 holy  Gospels  help  me ;  that  is,  "  as  I  say 
 the  truth."  The  present  custom  of  kissing 
 a  book  containing  the  Gospels  has  in  Eng- 
 land taken  the  place  of  the  latter  clause  in 
 the  Latin  formula.  Dr.  J.  R.  Beard. 
 
 OATH— Sinful. 
 
 It  is  great  sin  to  swear  unto  a  sin. 
 But  greater  sin  to  keep  a  sinful  oath. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 OATH  OF  SUPREMACY— Form  of. 
 
 "  I,  A.  B.,  do  swear,  that  I  do  from  my 
 heart  abhor,  detest,  and  abjure,  as  impious 
 and  heretical,  that  damnable  doctrine  and 
 position,  that  princes  excommunicated  or 
 deprived  by  the  Pope,  or  any  authority  of 
 the  see  of  Rome,  may  be  deposed  or  mur- 
 dered by  their  subjects,  or  any  other  what- 
 soever.  And  I  do  d.^clare,  that  no  foreign 
 prince,  person,  prelate,  state,  or  potentate. 
 
0.12 
 
 OATHS— OBEDIENCE. 
 
 \KiLli,  or  ought  to  have,  any  jurisdiction, 
 power,  pre-eminence,  or  authority,  eccle- 
 tiastical  or  spiritual,  within  this  reahn.  So 
 help  me  God."  Buck. 
 
 OATHS— Ancient. 
 
 Other  heings  besides  God  are  sometimes 
 added  in  the  t'orui  of  an  oath.  Elijah  said 
 to  Elisha,  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy 
 soul  liveth."  The  party  addressed  is  fre- 
 quently sworn  by,  especially  if  a  prince : 
 "As  thy  soul  liveth,  my  lord,  I  am  the 
 woman,"  &e.  (1  Sam.  i,  26;  xvii,  55).  The 
 Hebrews  as  well  as  the  Egyptians  swore 
 also  by  the  head  or  the  life  of  an  absent 
 as  well  as  a  present  prince :  "  By  the  life 
 of  Pliaraoh  "  (Gen.  xlii,  15).  Han  way  says 
 that  the  most  sacred  oath  among  the 
 Persians  is,  "  By  the  king's  head."  Aben 
 Ezra  asserts  that  in  his  time  (a.  D.  1170) 
 this  oath  was  common  in  Egypt  under  the 
 caliplis.     Death  was  the  penalty  of  perjury. 
 
 The  oath-taker  swore  sometimes  by  his 
 own  head  (Matt,  v,  36),  or  by  some  pre- 
 cious part  of  his  body,  as  the  eyes ;  some- 
 times, but  only  in  the  case  of  the  latter 
 Jews,  by  the  earth,  the  heaven,  and  the 
 Sim,  as  well  as  by  angels;  by  the  temple 
 (Matt,  xxiii,  16),  and  even  by  parts  of  the 
 temple.  They  also  swore  by  Jerusalem, 
 as  the  holy  ciiy  (Matt,  v,  35). 
 
 Dr.  J.  R.  Beard. 
 OATHS— Disregarded. 
 If  oaths  be  disregarded,  come  confusion  ; 
 Come  wild  disorder,  leading  by  the  hand 
 The  harlot  vice,  disfeatured  humanity. 
 And  ev'ry  social  grace.     Hut  violation, 
 "With  harpy-talou'd  rapine,  close  the  scene, 
 r.azing  all  virtue  from  the  human  heart. 
 
 Savard. 
 OATHS— Truth  Stronger  than. 
 
 If  we  want  oaths  to  join  us. 
 Swift  let  us  part,  from  pole  to  pole  asunder. 
 A  cause  like  ours  is  its  own  sacrament : 
 Truth,  justice,  reason,  love,  and  liberty. 
 The  eternal  links  that  clasp  the  world  are 
 
 in  it. 
 And  he  who  breaks  their  sanction,  breaks 
 
 all  law. 
 And  infinite  connection.  Brooke. 
 
 OATHS— not  Truth. 
 
 'Tis  not  the  many  oaths  that  make  the 
 
 truth ; 
 But   the  plain   single  vow  that   is  vow'd 
 
 true.  Shakespeare. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— Actual. 
 
 Actual  obedience  is  the  practice  and 
 exercise  of  the  sevei'al  graces  and  duties  of 
 Christianity.  C.  Buck. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— Advantages  of. 
 
 1.  It  adorns  the  Gospel  (Tit.  ii,  10). 
 
 2.  It  is  evidential  of  grace  (2  Cor.  v,  17). 
 
 3.  It  rejoices  the  hearts  of  the  ministers 
 and  people  of  God  (3  John  2 ;  2  Tliess.  i, 
 19,  20). 
 
 4.  It  silences  gainsayers  (2  Pet.  i,  11, 12). 
 
 5.  Encourages  the  saints,  while  it  re- 
 proves the  lukewarm  (Matt,  v,  16). 
 
 6.  Affords  peace  to  the  subjects  of  it 
 (Ps.  XXV,  12,  13 ;  Acts  xxiv,  16). 
 
 7.  It  powerfully  recommends  religion, 
 as  that  which  is  both  delightful  and  prac- 
 ticable (Col.  i,  10). 
 
 8.  It  is  the  forerunner  and  evidence  of 
 eternal  glory  (Rom.  vi,  22 ;  Rev.  xxii,  14). 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 OBEDIENCE— Cheerful. 
 
 Obedience,  which  is  a  proof  of  love, 
 must  be  cheerful,  for  love  obeyeth  with 
 delight.  It  is  not  a  burden  to  pray,  but 
 a  pleasure;  hard  duties  become  easy  to 
 love,  and  the  time  seems  not  long  nor 
 tedious.  As  Jacob,  for  the  love  of  Rachel : 
 "And  Jacob  served  seven  years  for  Kachel, 
 and  they  seemed  unto  him  but  as  one's 
 days,"  translated  as  "few  days,"  "for  the 
 love  he  had  unto  her "  (Gen.  xxix,  20). 
 Seven  years  to  love  seem  but  as  one  day. 
 One  day  in  a  holy  duty  to  one  who  wanteth 
 love  seemeth  as  seven  days,  if  not  as  seven 
 years;  which  seem  to  pass  away  sooner, 
 and  with  more  delight,  than  one  day  spent 
 in  flesh-displeasing  duties,  where  there  is 
 no  love  to  take  off  the  tediousness  of  it  to 
 the  flesh.  Doolittle. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Obedience  is  the  performance  of  the 
 commands  of  a  superior.  C.  Buck. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— Duty  of. 
 
 Implicit  obedience  is  our  first  duty  to 
 God,  and  one  for  which  nothing  else  will 
 compensate.  If  a  lad  at  school  is  bidden 
 to  cipher,  and  chooses  to  write  a  copy  in- 
 stead, the  goodness  of  the  writing  will  not 
 save  him  from  censure.  We  must  obey, 
 whether  we  see  the  reason  or  not;  for  God 
 knows  best.  A  guide  through  an  unknown 
 country  must  be  followed  without  demur. 
 A  captain,  in  coming  up  the  Hnniber  or 
 Southampton  water,  yields  complete  au- 
 thiirity  to  the  pilot.  A  soldier  in  buttle 
 must,  fight  when  and  where  he  is  ordered; 
 when  the  conflict  is  over,  he  may  reflect 
 upon  and  perceive  the  wisdom  of  his  com- 
 mander in  movements  that  at  the  time  of 
 their  execution  were  perplexing.  The 
 farmer  must  obey  God's  natural  laws  of 
 the  seasons  if  he  would  win  a  harvest ;  and 
 we  must  all  obey  God's  spiritual  laws  if  we 
 would  reap  happiness  here  and  hereafter. 
 
 Anon. 
 OBEDIENCE— the  End  of  Faith. 
 
 Remember !  Faith  accepts  the  command 
 and  obeys,  just  as  it  also  accejits  the 
 promise  and  rests  upon   it.     The    branch 
 
0BEDIE2JCE. 
 
 633 
 
 abiding  in  the  vine,  adjusts  itself  to  tVie 
 times  and  seasons  of  the  vine.  It  puts 
 forth  buds,  blossoms,  and  leaves  in  the 
 spring,  fruit  in  the  summer,  and  in  the 
 fall  ripens  its  precious  burden  for  the 
 husbandman,  then  drops  its  leaves,  and 
 composes  itself  for  the  rest  and  strength- 
 gathering  time  of  tlie  winter.  Just  so 
 we  need  to  adjust  ourselves  to  the  will  of 
 the  Master  daily  and  hourly. 
 
 JF.  E.  Boardman. 
 OBEDIENCE— Filial. 
 
 "  I  wish  I  could  mind  God  as  my  little 
 dog  minds  me,"  said  a  little  boy,  looking 
 at  his  shaggy  friend  ;  "he  always  looks  so 
 pleased  to  mind,  and  I  don't." 
 
 A  tradesman  once  advertised  for  a  boy 
 to  assist  in  his  shop,  and  go  on  errands. 
 A  few  hours  after  the  morning's  papers 
 were  circulated,  he  had  his  shop  thronged 
 with  all  kinds  of  boys ;  and  not  knowing 
 which  to  choose,  he  advertised  again  as 
 follows:— "Wanted,  to  assist  in  a  shop,  a 
 boy  tolio  obeys  his  mother."  In  reply  to 
 this  there  were  only  tivo  boys  who  ven- 
 tured to  apply  for  the  situation. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 OBEDIEKCE— Importance  of. 
 
 When  Demosthenes  was  asked  what  was 
 the  first  part  of  an  orator,  what  the  second, 
 and  what  the  third?  he  answered,  "Action." 
 The  same  may  I  say,  if  any  should  ask  me 
 what  is  the  first,  the  second,  the  tliird 
 part  of  a  Christian,  I  must  answer, 
 "Action."  Luther  says  that  "he  had 
 rather  obey  than  work  miracles.  Obedience 
 is  better  than  sacrifice.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— from  Love, 
 
 The  son  of  a  poor  man,  that  hath  not  a 
 penny  to  give  or  leave  him,  yields  his 
 father  obedience  as  cheerfully  as  the  son 
 of  a  rich  man  that  looks  for  a  great  in- 
 heritance. It  is,  indeed,  love  to  the  father, 
 not  wages  from  the  father,  that  is  the 
 ground  of  a  good  child's  obedience.  If 
 there  were  no  heaven,  God's  cliildren  would 
 obey  Him;  and  though  there  were  no  hell, 
 yet  would  they  do  their  duty ;  so  power- 
 ifully  doth  the  love  of  the  Father  constrain 
 them.  Spencer. 
 
 Nothing  can  be  love  to  God  which  does 
 not  shape  itself  into  obedience.  We  re- 
 member the  anecdote  of  the  Roman  com- 
 mander who  forbade  an  engagement  with 
 the  enemy,  and  the  first  transgressor 
 against  whose  prohibition  was  his  son. 
 lie  accepted  the  challenge  of  the  leader  of 
 the  other  host,  met,  slew,  spoiled  him,  and 
 then  in  trium!)hant  feeling  carried  the 
 spoils  to  his  father's  tent.  But  the  Roman 
 father  refused  to  recognise  the  instinct 
 which  prompted  this  as  deserving  of  the 
 
 name  of  love.     Disobedience  contradicted 
 it,  and  deserved  death.      F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— for  Mercies. 
 
 God  accounts  those  mercies  forgotten 
 which  are  not  written  with  legible  charac- 
 ters in  our  lives.  That  of  Joshua  is  ob- 
 servable (chap,  viii,  32).  Upon  their  vic- 
 tory over  the  city  of  Ai  an  altar  is  built, 
 as  a  monument  of  that  signal  mercy.  Now 
 mark,  what  doth  God  command  to  be 
 writ  or  engraved  upon  the  stones  thereof? 
 One  would  have  thought  the  history  of 
 that  day's  work  should  have  been  the 
 sculpture ;  but  it  is  the  copy  of  the  law  of 
 Moses,  which  he  wrote  in  the  presence  of 
 the  children  of  Israel,  whereby  He  plainly 
 showed  the  best  way  of  remembering  the 
 mercy  was  not  to  forget  the  law. 
 
 GurnalL 
 OBEDIENCE— Nature  of. 
 
 1.  Active;  not  only  avoiding  what  is 
 prohibited,  but  performing  what  is  com- 
 manded (Col.  iii,  8,  10). 
 
 2.  Personal;  for  though  Christ  has 
 obeyed  the  law  for  us  as  a  covenant  of 
 works,  yet  He  has  not  abrogated  it  as  a 
 rule  of  life  (Rom.  vii,  22  ;  iii,  31). 
 
 3.  Sincere  (Ps.  li,  6 ;  1  Tim.  i,  5). 
 
 4.  Affectionate ;  springing  from  love, 
 and  not  from  terror  (1  John  v,  19 ;  ii,  5 ; 
 2  Cor.  V,  14). 
 
 5.  Diligent;  not  slothfully  (Gal.  i,  16; 
 Ps.  xviii,  44;  Rom.  xii,  11). 
 
 6.  Conspicuous  (Phil,  ii,  15 ;  Matt,  v, 
 16). 
 
 7.  Universal;  not  one  duty,  but  all 
 must  be  performed  (2  Pet.  i,  5,  10). 
 
 8.  Perpetual;  at  all  times,  places,  and 
 occasions  (Rom.  ii,  7  ;  Gal.  vi,  9). 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 OBEDIENCE— Obligation  to, 
 
 1.  From  the  relation  we  stand  in  to 
 God  as  His  creatures  (Ps.  xcv,  6). 
 
 2.  From  the  law  He  hath  revealed  to 
 us  in  His  Word  (Ps.  cxix,  3;  2  Pet.  i, 
 5.7). 
 
 3.  From  the  blessings  of  His  providence 
 we  are  constantly  receiving  (Acts  xiv,  17). 
 
 4.  From  the  love  and  goodness  of  God 
 in  the  grand  work  of  redemption  (1  Cor. 
 vi,  20).  Ibid. 
 
 OBEDIENCE— Perfect. 
 
 Perfect  obedience  is  the  exact  confor- 
 mity of  our  hearts  and  lives  to  the  law  of 
 God,  without  the  least  imperfection. 
 
 Ibid. 
 OBEDIENCE— Universal. 
 
 To  obey  God  in  some  things  of  religion, 
 and  not  in  others,  shows  an  unsound  heart ; 
 like  Esau,  who  obeyed  his  father  in  bring- 
 ing  him  venison,  but  not  in  a  greater 
 matter,  viz.,  the  choice  of  his  wife.  Child- 
 like obedience  moves  towards  every  com- 
 
634 
 
 OBEDIENCE— OBSTINACY. 
 
 mand  of  God,  as  the  needle  points  that 
 way  which  the  loadstone  draws. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 A  soul  sincerely  obedient  will  not  pick 
 and  choose  what  commands  to  obey,  and 
 what  to  reject,  as  hypocrites  do.  An 
 obedient  soul  is  like  a  crystal  glass  with  a 
 light  in  the  midst,  which  shines  forth 
 through  every  part  thereof.  A  man  sin- 
 cerely obedient  lays  such  a  charge  upon 
 his  whole  man,  as  Mary,  the  mother  of 
 Christ,  did  upon  all  the  servants  at  the 
 feast  (John  ii,  5),  "  Whatsoever  He  saith 
 unto  you,  do  it."  Eyes,  ears,  hands,  heart, 
 lips,  legs,  body  and  soul,  do  you  all  seriously 
 and  affectionately  observe  whatever  Jesus 
 Christ  says  unto  you,  and  do  it. 
 
 T.  Broolcs. 
 OBEDIENCE— Virtual. 
 
 Virtual  obedience  consists  in  a  belief  of 
 the  Gospel,  of  the  holiness  and  equity  of 
 its  precepts,  of  the  truth  of  its  promises, 
 and  a  true  repentance  of  all  our  sins. 
 
 C.  Buclc. 
 OBEDIENCE— Willing. 
 
 A  musician  is  not  recommended  for 
 playing  long,  but  for  playing  well ;  it  is 
 obeying  God  willingly  is  accepted;  the 
 Lord  hates  that  which  is  forced,  it  is 
 rather  paying  a  tax  than  an  offering.  Cain 
 served  God  grudgingly;  he  brought  his 
 sacrifice,  not  his  heart.  To  obey  God's 
 commandments  unwillingly  is  like  the 
 devils  who  came  out  of  the  man  possessed, 
 at  Christ's  command,  but  with  reluctancy, 
 and  against  their  will.  Good  duties  must 
 not  be  pressed  nor  beaten  out  of  us,  as  the 
 waters  came  out  of  the  rock  when  Moses 
 smote  it  with  his  rod ;  but  must  freely  drop 
 from  us,  as  myrrh  from  the  tree,  or  honey 
 from  the  comb.  If  a  willing  mind  be 
 wanting,  there  wants  that  flower  which 
 should  perform  our  obedience,  and  make 
 it  a  sweet  smelling  savour  to  God. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 OBLIGATION— Definition  of. 
 
 Obligation  is  that  by  which  we  are 
 bound  to  the  performance  of  any  action. 
 Rational  obligation  is  that  which  arises 
 from  reason,  abstractedly  taken,  to  do  or 
 f(u-bear  certain  actions.  Authoritative  ob- 
 ligation is  that  which  arises  from  the 
 commands  of  a  superior  or  one  who  has 
 a  right  or  authority  to  prescribe  rule  to 
 others.  Moral  obligation  is  that  by  which 
 we  are  bound  to  perform  that  which  is 
 right,  and  to  avoid  that  which  is  wrong. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 OBLIGATION— Personal. 
 
 It  is  by  each  soldier  feeling  his  obligation 
 in  doing  his  part  that  the  army  conquers  ; 
 it  is  by  each  bee  doing  its  work  that  the 
 Live  is  stored  with  honey ;  it  is  by  each 
 
 insect  putting  forth  all  its  might  that  the 
 coral  reef  becomes  an  island,  and  cities  rise 
 upon  the  bosom  of  the  main. 
 
 Dr.  Gumming. 
 OBSERVATION— Making. 
 
 A  great  and  enlightened  statesman  being 
 asked  by  a  young  gentleman  what  treatise 
 on  the  art  of  government  he  could  recom- 
 mend as  the  best,  he  replied,  "  A  book  of 
 tvhite  paper.  Take  such  a  book,  journey 
 with  it  through  the  world,  carefully  attend 
 to  every  matter,  whether  political  or  not, 
 which  appears  to  you  remarkable,  note  it 
 for  the  information  of  yourselves  and 
 others,  and  in  this  way  you  will  make  an 
 excellent  work,  from  which  you  will  learn 
 much."  The  sagacious  man,  it  appeared, 
 preferred  experience  and  observation  to  ail 
 other  books,  and  why  should  not  I  entertain 
 the  same  opinion  on  spiritual  matters  ? 
 
 Gotthold. 
 OBSERVATION— Use  of. 
 
 An  observant  man,  in  all  his  intercourse 
 with  society  and  the  world,  carries  a  pencil 
 constantly  in  his  hand,  and,  unperceived, 
 marks  on  every  person  and  thing  the 
 figure  expressive  of  its  value,  and  there- 
 fore instantly  on  meeting  that  person  or 
 thing  again,  knows  what  kind  and  degree 
 of  attention  to  give  it.  This  is  to  make 
 something  of  experience.  J.  Foster. 
 
 OBSTINACY— Conquered. 
 
 It  was  the  custom  of  Mr.  Raikes,  the 
 founder  of  Sunday  schools,  to  visit  in 
 person  the  families  of  the  poor,  and  to 
 persuade  the  parents  to  feel  interested  in 
 the  well-being  of  their  children ;  while,  at 
 the  same  time,  he  persuaded  the  children 
 to  come  to  the  Sunday-school.  On  one 
 occasion  he  called  at  the  residence  of  a 
 poor  but  respectable  woman.  She  lived 
 in  a  very  decent  house,  comfortably  fur- 
 nished ;  but  her  life  was  made  unhappy 
 by  the  behaviour  of  her  little  girl,  who 
 had  a  very  bad  temper.  At  the  time  jNIr. 
 Raikes  called  at  the  house,  this  little  girl 
 happened  to  be  in  a  sulky  mood.  Her 
 mother  complained  that  she  had  done  all 
 she  could  to  correct  her,  but  it  was  of  no 
 use;  she  continued  her  obstinacy,  and  her 
 conduct  had  become  very  bad.  With  the 
 mother's  consent,  Mr.  Raikes  began  to  talk 
 seriously  to  the  girl,  and  concluded  by 
 telling  her  tliat,  as  the  first  step  towards 
 amendment,  siie  must  kneel  down  and  ask 
 her  mother's  pardon.  The  child  continued 
 sulky,  and  all  Mr.  Raikes  could  say  had 
 no  effect  upon  her.  At  last  he  said,  "  Well, 
 then,  if  you  have  no  regard  for  yourself, 
 I  have  much  regard  for  you.  You  will  be 
 ruined  and  lost  if  you  do  not  begin  at  onco 
 to  be  a  good  girl ;  and,  if  you  will  not 
 humble  yourself,  I  must  humble  myself, 
 and  make  a  beginning  for  you."     He  then 
 
OBSTINACY— OFFENCES. 
 
 635 
 
 kneeled  aown  before  the  child's  mother, 
 and  putting  his  hands  together,  like  a 
 penitent  offender,  asked  her  forgiveness. 
 No  sooner  did  the  stubborn  girl  see  him 
 on  his  knees  on  her  account  than  her  pride 
 yielded  ;  her  obstinacy  was  overcome  ;  she 
 burst  into  tears,  fell  upon  her  knees,  asked 
 her  mother's  forgiveness,  and  from  that 
 hour  conducted  herself  as  an  obedient  and 
 gentle  child.  Anon. 
 
 OBSTINACY— Immovable, 
 
 You  may  as  well  go  stand  upon  a  beach, 
 And   bid   the   main   flood   bate   his  usual 
 
 height ; 
 You  may  as  well  use  question  with  the 
 
 wolf, 
 Why  he  hath  made  the  ewe  bleat  for  the 
 
 lamb; 
 You  may  as  well  bid  the  mountain  pines 
 To  wag  their  high  tops,  and  to  make  no 
 
 noise, 
 When  they  are  fretted  with  the  gusts  of 
 
 heaven  ; 
 You  may  as  well  do  anything  most  hard. 
 As  seek  to  soften  that  (than  which  what's 
 
 harder  ?) 
 His  Jewish  heart.  Shakespeare. 
 
 OCCUPATION— Importance  of  an. 
 
 Seventeen  years  ago  there  was  a  fair  girl 
 so  pure,  so  lovely,  so  refined,  that  she  still 
 rises  to  my  mind  as  almost  akin  to  angels. 
 She  was  wooed  and  ultimately  won  by 
 a  handsome  young  man  of  considerable 
 wealth.  He  sj)orted  a  fine  team,  delighted 
 in  hunting,  antl  kept  a  fine  pack  of  hounds. 
 He  neither  played  cards,  drank  wine,  nor 
 used  tobacco.  He  had  no  occupation,  no 
 calling,  no  trade.  He  lived  on  his  money, 
 the  interest  of  which  alone  would  have 
 supported  a  family  handsomely.  I  never 
 saw  the  fair  bride  again  until  a  few  days 
 ago.  Seventeen  years  had  passed  away, 
 and  witli  them  her  beauty  and  her  youth ; 
 her  husband's  fortune  and  his  life,  during 
 the  latter  part  of  which  they  lived  in  a 
 log-cabin  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  River, 
 near  Blennerhasset's  Island ;  a  whole  family 
 in  one  single  room,  subsisting  on  water, 
 fat  bacon,  and  corn  bread.  The  husband 
 had  no  business  capacity.  He  was  a 
 gentleman  of  education,  of  refinement,  of 
 noble  impulses ;  but  when  his  money  was 
 gone,  he  could  get  no  employment,  simply 
 because  he  did  not  know  how  to  do  any- 
 thing. For  a  while  he  floundered  about, 
 first  trying  one  thing,  then  another,  but 
 "  failure "  was  written  on  them  all.  He, 
 however,  finally  obtained  a  situation  ;  the 
 labour  was  great,  the  compensation  small ; 
 it  was  that  or  starvation ;  in  his  heroic 
 eff"orts  to  discharge  his  duty  acceptably  he 
 overworked  himself  and  died,  leaving  his 
 widow  and  six  girls  in  utter  destitution. 
 In  seventeen  years  the  sweet  and  joyous 
 
 and  beautiful  girl  had  become  a  broken- 
 hearted, care-worn,  poverty-stricken  widow, 
 with  a  houseful  of  helpless  children. 
 
 Dr.  Sail. 
 OCCUPATION— Use  of. 
 
 When  grief  sits  down,  folds  its  hands, 
 and  mournfully  feeds  upon  its  own  tears, 
 weaving  the  dim  shadows,  that  a  little 
 exertion  might  sweep  into  a  funeral  pall, 
 the  strong  spirit  is  shorn  of  its  might, 
 and  sorrow  becomes  our  master.  When 
 troubles  flow,  dark  and  heavy,  toil  not 
 with  the  waves,  wrestle  not  with  the 
 torrent  —  rather  seek,  by  occupation,  to 
 divert  the  dark  waves  that  threaten  to 
 overwhelm  you,  into  a  thousand  channels 
 which  the  duties  of  life  always  present. 
 Before  you  dream  it,  those  waters  will 
 fertilise  the  present,  and  give  birth  to 
 fresh  flowers  tliat  may  brighten  the  future 
 — flowers  that  will  become  pure  and  holy 
 in  the  sunshine  which  penetrates  to  the 
 paths  of  duty,  in  spite  of  every  obstacle. 
 
 Anon. 
 OFFENCE— Unpardonable. 
 If  my  off"ence  be  of  such  mortal  kind. 
 That   neither    service    past,   nor    present 
 
 sorrows. 
 Nor  purpos'd  merit  in  futurity, 
 Can  ransom  me  into  his  love  again. 
 But  to  know  so  much  be  my  benefit ; 
 So  shall  1  clothe  me  in  a  forc'd  content. 
 And  shut  myself  up  in  some  other  course 
 To  fortune's  arms.  Shakespeare. 
 
 OFFENCES— Forgetting. 
 
 A  person  came  to  Mr.  Longdon,  of 
 Sheffield,  one  day,  and  said,  "  I  have 
 something  against  you,  and  I  am  come 
 to  tell  you  of  it,"  "  Do  walk  in,  sir," 
 he  replied ;  "  you  are  my  best  friend.  If 
 I  could  but  engage  my  friends  to  be  faith- 
 ful with  me,  I  should  be  sure  to  prosper. 
 But,  if  you  please,  we  will  both  pray  in 
 the  first  place,  and  ask  the  blessing  of 
 God  upon  our  interview,"  After  they 
 rose  from  their  knees,  and  had  been  much 
 blessed  together,  he  said,  "  Now  I  will 
 thank  you,  my  brother,  to  tell  me  what 
 it  is  that  you  have  against  me."  "  0," 
 said  the  man,  "  I  really  don't  know  what 
 it  is ;  it  is  all  gone,  and  I  believe  I  was 
 in  the  wrong,"  Longdon's  Life. 
 
 OFFENCES— Reproving  Private. 
 
 Private  oflTences,  it  must  be  borne  in 
 mind,  are  always  to  be  corrected  in  private. 
 Whoever  checks  a  private  misdeed  in 
 public  will  be  thought  more  desirous  of 
 dragging  it  to  light  than  of  preventing 
 its  repetition— of  deepening  the  offender's 
 mortification  than  of  effecting  his  amend- 
 ment. Nor  is  this  all  j  the  reprover  be- 
 comes himself  a  public  offender,  meriting 
 a   public    rebuke.      When    Socx'ates   ouce 
 
63(J 
 
 0FrE2TCES— OLD  AGE. 
 
 reproved  Plato  at  a  feast,  for  some  private 
 oftence,  Plato  replied,  that  it  had  been 
 better  to  tell  him  of  his  fault  in  private; 
 for  to  mention  it  in  public  was  an  im- 
 propriety. G.  W.  Hervey. 
 
 OFFENCES— Reproving  Public. 
 
 As  to  public  offences,  they  are  to  be 
 reproved  as  public  as  the  offence  was  com- 
 mitted, that  is,  in  the  presence  of  those 
 who  witnessed  the  obnoxious  act,  and  at 
 the  time  when,  and  in  the  place  where  it 
 was  committed ;  with  this  salvo,  however, 
 that  where  it  is  impossible,  from  the  nature 
 of  the  case,  to  rebuke  the  act  on  the  spot, 
 or  where  the  offence  is  of  a  flagrant  nature, 
 and  an  injury  to  society  at  large,  it  must 
 be  done  in  some  other  way.  Ibid. 
 
 OFFENCES— Treatment  of. 
 
 David  was  deaf  to  the  railing  of  his 
 enemies,  and  as  a  dumb  man,  in  whose 
 mouth  were  no  reproofs.  Socrates,  when 
 he  was  abused  in  a  comedy,  laughed  at  it, 
 when  Polyargus,  not  able  to  bear  such 
 an  indignity,  went  and  hanged  himself. 
 Augustus  slighted  the  satires  and  bitter 
 invectives  which  the  Pasquins  of  that  time 
 invented  against  him  ;  and  when  the  senate 
 would  have  further  informed  him  of  them, 
 he  would  not  hear  them.  Thus,  the  manlier 
 any  man  is,  the  milder  and  readier  he  is  to 
 pass  by  an  offence  as  not  knowing  of  it,  or 
 not  troubled  at  it ;  an  argument  that  there 
 is  much  of  God  in  hiiri  (if  he  do  it  from 
 a  right  principle)  who  bears  with  our 
 infirmities,  and  forgives  our  trespasses, 
 beseeching  us  to  be  reconciled.  When 
 any  provoke  us,  we  used  to  say,  "  We  will 
 be  even  with  him."  But  there  is  a  way 
 whereby  we  may  not  only  be  even,  but 
 above  him,  and  that  is,  forgive  him. 
 
 Spencer. 
 OFFSPEING  OP  GOD. 
 
 "  We  are  His  oflspring."  Because  we 
 are  the  race  of  God  (originally  sprung  from 
 Him) :  in  all  our  debasements.  He  owns 
 us,  and  seeks  after  us.  It  is  no  longer  in- 
 credible that  He  should  Himself  come  to 
 seek  and  save  ns,  if  we  are  His  descendants. 
 If  we  are  God's  offspring,  it  is  no  wonder 
 that  angels  are  so  willingly  our  servants, 
 and  that  they  will  leave  heaven,  to  pitch 
 and  encamp  about  our  tents. 
 "  We  would  no  longer  lie 
 
 Like  slaves  beneath  the  throne  j 
 My  faith  shall  Abba  !  Father  !  cry, 
 
 And  Thou  the  kindred  own." 
 
 Yes,  "  kindred,"  for  "  we  are  His  off- 
 spring.'" And  "  no  man  ever  yet  hated 
 his  ownfiesh,  but  nourisheth  and  cherisheth 
 it,  as  the  Lord  the  Church,"  which  is  His 
 fl .  ah.  Surely,  He  stieketh  to  us  closer  than 
 a  brother,  for  we  have  come  forth  from  His 
 Father.  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 OLD  AGE— Eearity  of. 
 
 The  scathed  and  leafless  tree  may  seem 
 
 Old  age's  mournful  sign, 
 Yet  on  its  bark  may  sunshine  gleam. 
 
 And  moonlight  softly  shine. 
 
 Thus  on  the  cheek  of  age  shall  rest 
 
 The  light  of  days  gone  by ; 
 Calm  as  the  glories  of  the  west, 
 
 When  night  is  drawing  nigh. 
 
 As  round  the  scathed  trunk  fondly  clings 
 
 The  ivy  green  and  strong; 
 Repaying,  by  the  grace  it  brings. 
 
 The  succour  granted  long  : 
 
 So  round  benevolent  old  age 
 
 May  objects  yet  survive, 
 Whose  greenness  can  the  heart  engage. 
 
 And  keep  the  soul  alive.  Barton. 
 
 OLD  AGE— a  Courtier. 
 
 Old  age,  says  the  proverb,  is  a  courtier ; 
 he  knocks  again  and  again  at  the  window 
 and  at  the  door,  and  makes  us  everywhere 
 conscious  of  his  presence.  Woe  to  the 
 man  who  becomes  old  without  becoming 
 wise;  woe  to  him  if  this  world  shuts  the 
 door  without  the  future  having  opened  its 
 portals  to  him.  Tholuclc. 
 
 OLD  AGE— Disappointment  in. 
 
 My  May  of  life 
 Is  fallen  in  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf; 
 And  that  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
 As    honour,    love,    obedience,    troops    of 
 
 friends, 
 I  must  not  look  to  have,  but,  in  their  stead, 
 Curses,  not  loud,  but  deep,  mouth-honour, 
 
 breath. 
 Which   the  poor  heart  would  fain  deny, 
 but  dare  not.  Shakespeare. 
 
 OLD  AGE— Ease  in. 
 
 To  shake  all  cares  and  business  from  his 
 
 age. 
 Conferring    them   on   younger    strength, 
 
 while  he 
 Unburdened  crawls  toward  death.       Ibid. 
 OLD  AGE— Follies  on. 
 
 An  old  stump  of  an  oak,  with  a  few 
 young  shoots  on  its  almost  bare  top. 
 
 Analogy:  Youthful  follies  growing  on 
 old  age.  J.  Foster. 
 
 OLD  AGE — Learning  in. 
 
 Socrates,  at  an  extreme  age,  learned  to 
 play  on  musical  instruments,  for  the  pur- 
 pose of  resisting  the  influence  of  old  age. 
 Cato,  at  eighty  years  of  age,  began  to  learn 
 the  Greek  language.  Petrarch,  when  be- 
 tween seventy  and  eighty,  commenced  the 
 study  of  Latin.  Boccaccio  was  thirty 
 years  of  age  when  he  commenced  his 
 studies  in  polite  literature,  yet  he  became 
 one  of  the  three  great  masters  in  the 
 Tuscan  dialect,  Dante  and  Petrarch  being 
 the  other  two.     Sir  Henry  Spelman  neg- 
 
OLD  MAN— OPIITION. 
 
 G37 
 
 lected  the  sciences  in  liis  youth,  hut  com- 
 menced the  study  of  theiii  when  he  was 
 between  fifty  and  sixty  years  of  age. 
 After  that  time  he  hecame  a  most  learned 
 antiquary  and  lawyer.  Colhert,  the 
 ftmous  French  minister,  at  sixty  years  of 
 age,  returned  to  his  Latin  and  law  studies. 
 Ludovico,  at  the  great  age  of  115,  wrote 
 the  memoirs  of  his  own  times.  Ogilby, 
 the  translator  of  Homer  and  Virgil,  was 
 unacquainted  with  Latin  and  Greeli  till  he 
 Wl's  past  fiftj'.  Franklin  did  not  fully 
 commence  his  philosophical  pursuits  till 
 he  had  reached  his  fiftieth  year.  Dryden 
 in  his  sixty-eighth  year  commenced  the 
 tr:nislation  of  the  "  Iliad ;"  and  his  most 
 phasing  ^n'oductions  were  written  in  his 
 old  age.  Anon. 
 
 OLD  MAIT—The. 
 
 No  desert  without  limits  extends  before 
 the  old  man.  He  walks  beside  a  river 
 whose  banks  are  seen  to  approach ;  a  di- 
 minishing stream  separates  them  each  day 
 less  and  lessj  and  on  the  opposite  bank 
 stand  wife  and  son,  with  arms  outstretched 
 to  meet  him.  Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 OLD  MAN— "Worldly. 
 
 There  is  not  a  more  repulsive  spectacle 
 than  an  old  man  wliO  will  not  forsake  the 
 world,  which  has  already  forsaken  him. 
 
 Tholuck. 
 OLD  SINKEES. 
 
 Like  the  worm  clinging  to  the  withered 
 leaf,  they  feed  upon  the  faded  memories  of 
 departed  days,  which  shall  never  return. 
 Ibid. 
 
 If  we  see  a  man  in  his  old  age  grow 
 more  in  love  with  the  things  of  this  world, 
 and  less  in  love  with  the  things  of  God,  it 
 is  not  through  the  weakness  of  nature, 
 but  through  the  strength  of  sin. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Owen. 
 OLD  TESTAMENT  HISTOEIES. 
 
 Like  an  outer  park  or  forest,  the  Old 
 Testament  histories  offer  endless  scope  to 
 the  explorer;  whilst  there  is  invigoration 
 in  the  exercise,  there  is  a  rich  reward  in 
 the  curious  and  instructive  discoveries 
 awaiting  diligent  research,  and,  as  showing 
 the  Hand  most  high  which  guides  our 
 human  destinies,  they  furnish  the  true 
 introduction  to  universal  history. 
 
 Dr.  J.  -Hamilton. 
 OPIKIOIT— Change  of. 
 
 I  have  learnt,  seen,  and  read,  that  the 
 following  are  the  proper  principles  for  the 
 guidance  of  man: — Ancient  records  and 
 the  annals  of  literature,  both  of  this  state 
 and  others,  have  handed  it  down  to  us  as 
 the  words  of  the  wise  and  noble,  that 
 the  same  opinions  and  sentiments  are  not 
 invariably  to  be  supported  by  the   same 
 
 individuals,  but  that  they  ought  to  adopt 
 those  which  may  be  required  by  the  cir- 
 cumstances of  the  times,  the  position  in 
 which  the  state  is  placed,  and  according  as 
 the  peace  and  agi-eement  of  parties  may 
 require.  Cicero. 
 
 OPINION— Conflict  of. 
 
 As  we  gaze  on  some  broad  river,  pouring 
 itself  forth  into  the  bosom  of  the  infinite 
 ocean,  scarce  a  murmur  reaches  the  ear  to 
 tell  of  the  meeting  of  the  waters.  The 
 stream  flows  ever  onward,  majestic  in  its 
 calnmess  and  its  silence.  Yet,  if  we  trace 
 it  backwards  to  the  far-oft"  mountains 
 where  it  has  its  birth,  we  encounter  it  in 
 moods  tempestuous  and  turbulent.  Here 
 tearing  wildly  through  some  dark  ravine, 
 there  dashing  madly  over  some  steep  pre- 
 cipice ;  yet  ever  onwards,  and  ever  broader, 
 deeper,  calmer,  till  in  its  might  it  marches 
 unvexed  and  undisturbed.  And  likened  to 
 this  may  be  the  conflict  of  opinion  which 
 takes  place  in  the  breast  of  some  earnest 
 man  who  has  anxiously  confronted  the 
 great  problems  of  life,  death,  time,  fate — 
 who  has  determined  to  attempt  for  himself 
 their  solution.  Now  in  wandering  mazes 
 entirely  lost — now  clutching  eagerly  at 
 some  shadow  which  eludes  his  grasp — now 
 shrinking  in  horror  from  conclusions  which 
 present  themselves  to  his  mind;  yet  always 
 str\iggliug,  always  enduring.  At  length, 
 light  comes — firm  ground  is  reached.  And 
 how  welcome  is  that  light,  none  know, 
 save  they  who  have  groped  in  darkness; 
 how  welcome  is  that  firm  standiug-place 
 none  know,  save  they  who  have  floundered 
 about  in  the  bogs  and  quagmires  of  error. 
 W.  Behbington. 
 OPINION— Definition  of. 
 
 The  shortest  and  most  apt  description 
 of  opinion  that  I  have  met  w^ith  is  that  of 
 Plato's,  who  defines  it,  "  a  medium  between 
 knowledge  and  ignorance."  It  is  situated 
 between  both;  and  every  opinion  is  more 
 or  less  well  grounded  and  evident,  as  it 
 approaches  to  one  or  the  other  of  those 
 two  extremes.  Brown, 
 
 OPINION— Maintenance  of. 
 
 To  maintain  an  opinion  because  it  is 
 thine,  and  not  because  it  is  true,  is  to 
 maintain  thyself,  not  the  truth,  and  so  to 
 prefer  thyself  above  the  truth.       Venning. 
 
 OPINION— New. 
 
 Wherefore  fly  no  opinion  'cause  'tis  new, 
 But  strictly  search,  and  after  careful  view 
 Reject,  if  false;  embrace  it  if  'tis  true. 
 
 Lucretius. 
 OPINION— Popular. 
 
 In  the  mass  of  human  aff'airs  there  is 
 nothing  so  vain  and  transitory  as  the 
 fancied  pre-eminence  which   depends   oa 
 
OPINION— OPPOETUNITY. 
 
 popular  opinion,  without  a  solid  foundation 
 to  support  it.  Tacitus. 
 
 OPINION— Power  of. 
 
 Opinion  is  that  high  and  mighty  dame 
 
 Which  rules  the  world,  and  in  the  mind 
 
 doth  frame 
 Distastes  or  likings;  for,  in  human  race, 
 She  makes  the  fancy  various  as  the  face. 
 
 Sowel. 
 OPINION— Self-interest  in. 
 
 Nothing  more  hinders  men  from  going 
 to,  or  going  from  an  opinion,  than  the 
 interest  they  have  by  holding  it.  Men  do 
 not  care  so  much  for  the  opinions  they 
 hold,  as  for  what  they  hold  by  their 
 opinions.  Many  a  man  thinks  what  De- 
 metrius said  (Acts  xix,  2,  7)  :  "  This  craft, 
 by  which  we  have  all  our  wealth,  is  like 
 to  be  set  at  nought."  Hence  they  begin  to 
 fly  in  the  face  of  truth,  and  oppose  it  with 
 outrageous  rage,  so  dearly  sweet,  and 
 sweetly  dear,  is  their  darling  gain.  They 
 see  they  cannot  have  the  honey  unless  they 
 burn  tlie  bees,  and  therefore  fire  them 
 forthwith;  they  cannot  possess  the  vine- 
 yard, unless  Naboth  be  put  to  death,  and 
 therefore  he  must  be  despatched.  When 
 once  the  copyhold  of  gain  and  honour  is 
 touched,  men  begin  to  look  about  them, 
 and  will  never  call  godliness  gain,  because 
 gain  is  their  godliness.  Venning. 
 
 OPINION— Social. 
 
 Social  opinion  is  like  a  sharp  knife. 
 There  are  foolish  people  who  regard  it 
 only  with  terror,  and  dai-e  not  touch  or 
 meddle  with  it;  there  are  more  foolish 
 people  who,  in  rashness  or  defiance,  seize 
 it  by  the  blade,  and  get  cut  and  mangled 
 for  their  pains ;  and  there  are  wise  people, 
 who  grasp  it  discreetly  and  boldly  by  the 
 handle,  and  use  it  to  carve  out  their  own 
 purposes.  Mrs.  Jameson. 
 
 OPPORTUNITIES— "Wasted. 
 
 If  a  girl  who  had  been  strolling  in  the 
 parks  or  pastures  before  breakfast  came  in 
 laden  with  bunches  of  primroses  and  violets, 
 with  cowslips  for  bracelets,  with  daisies  for 
 brooches,  and  dandelions  for  ear-rings,  you 
 would  not  reprove  her,  or  consider  that  she 
 had  forfeited  a  splendid  chance :  what  was 
 there  better  than  these  fair  blossoms  ?  But 
 now,  if  every  pebble  in  her  ramble  had 
 been  a  diamond,  or  a  topaz,  or  an  amethyst, 
 and  yet  she  came  in  with  nothing*  but 
 these  fading  blossoms,  what  would  you  say 
 to  her  then  ?  Would  you  not  exclaim, 
 "  Silly,  stupid  girl !  you  have  missed  a 
 fortune;  you  have  despised  treasures?" 
 And  what  shall  we  say  of  ourselves  if  we 
 occupy  ourselves  with  worldly  vanities,  or 
 scramble  on  anyhow  in  idleness,  when  God 
 has   strewn  our   path  with   what  should 
 
 enrich  us  for  heaven?  We  might  have 
 gathered  wisdom,  which  "  is  above  riches ;" 
 we  might  have  gained  God's  favour;  we 
 might  have  adorned  ourselves  with  virtues 
 and  graces ;  we  might  have  imitated  Mary 
 in  her  choice ;  but  we  let  the  whole  train 
 glide  by  us  without  seizing  on  a  single 
 gem.  Anon. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY— Abuse  of. 
 
 "  Ephraim  is  joined  to  his  idols ;  let  him 
 alone."  To  be  utterly  and  absolutely  alone; 
 to  have  all  the  voices  that  speak  to  us  of 
 God  and  duty,  the  voice  of  conscience  from 
 within,  the  voice  of  Providence  from  with- 
 out, the  voice  which  comes  from  the  lips 
 of  Jesus — to  have  all  these  voices  hushed, 
 hushed  into  an  unbroken,  perhaps  eternal 
 stillness;  can  we  conceive  any  condition 
 of  a  human  spirit  sadder  or  more  awful? 
 Yet  this  is  the  very  condition  to  which  the 
 abuse  of  opportunity,  the  indulgence  of  pas- 
 sion, the  drowning  of  the  voices  when  they 
 do  speak  to  us,  is  naturally  and  continually 
 tending.  Dr.  Hanna. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY— last. 
 
 Several  years  ago,  when  the  waters  of 
 our  river  were  swollen  to  a  flood,  a  man 
 who  had  valuable  timber  in  danger  of  being 
 swept  away,  ventured  into  the  mad  cur- 
 rent with  his  light  boat  to  save  it,  if  pos- 
 sible, from  the  threatened  ruin.  He  was 
 drawn  into  the  rushing  tide,  and  in  a 
 moment  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  wild 
 waters.  A  friend  saw  his  peril,  and, 
 mounting  a  fleet  horse,  started  for  a  bridge 
 a  few  miles  below,  as  the  only  chance  to 
 rescue  him. 
 
 Reaching  the  bridge  before  the  skifi", 
 which  came  like  an  arrow  toward  the  arch, 
 he  dropped  a  rope  over  it  to  the  surface  of 
 the  stream,  and  called  to  the  imperilled 
 man  to  seize  it  as  his  only  chance  of 
 escape.  The  trembling  hand  was  extended, 
 the  boat  sped  by,  and  the  inmate  was  iu 
 the  arms  of  his  deliverer. 
 
 We  have  often  thought  of  the  incident 
 as  a  forcible  illustration  of  spiritual  life, 
 especially  in  time  of  revival.  To  every 
 sinner  there  comes  a  last  offer,  from  the 
 sacred  hand  of  Him  "  who  is  mighty  to 
 save,"  But  with  startling  frequency  is 
 the  arch  of  mercy  passed  for  ever,  and  the 
 soul  left  to  drift  away  to  the  ocean  of 
 wrath.  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY— Neglect  of. 
 
 Who  seeks,  and  will  not  take  when  once 
 
 'tis  offer'd. 
 Shall  never  find  it  more.  Shalcespeare. 
 
 OPPORTUNITY— Taken. 
 
 There  is  a  tide  in  the  aff'airs  of  men, 
 Wliich,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  for- 
 tune : 
 
OPPOSITION— ORDER. 
 
 639 
 
 Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
 Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries. 
 On  such  a  full  sea  are  we  now  afloat, 
 And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it 
 
 serves. 
 Or  lose  our  ventures,  Shakespeare. 
 
 OPPOSITION— Help  of. 
 
 A  certain  amount  of  opposition  is  a  great 
 help  to  a  man.  Kites  rise  against  and  not 
 ■with  the  wind.  Even  a  head  wind  is  better 
 than  none.  No  man  ever  worked  his  pas- 
 sage anywhere  in  a  dead  calm.  Let  no 
 man  wax  pale,  therefore,  because  of  oppo- 
 sition. Opposition  is  what  he  wants  and 
 must  have,  to  be  good  for  anything.  Hard- 
 ship is  the  native  soil  of  manhood  and  self- 
 reliance.  He  that  cannot  abide  the  storm 
 without  flinching  or  quailing,  strips  him- 
 self in  the  sunshine,  and  lies  down  by  the 
 way  side  to  be  overlooked  and  forgotten. 
 He  who  but  braces  himself  to  the  struggle 
 when  the  winds  blow,  gives  up  when  they 
 have  done,  and  falls  asleep  in  the  stillness 
 that  follows.  J.  Neal. 
 
 ORDER— Beauty  of. 
 
 Order  is  a  lovely  nymph,  the  child  of 
 Beauty  and  Wisdom;  her  attendants  are 
 Comfort,  Neatness,  and  Activity ;  her  abode 
 is  the  valley  of  happiness;  she  is  always 
 to  be  found  when  sought  for,  and  never 
 appears  so  lovely  as  when  contrasted  with 
 her  opponent— Disorder.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 ORDER— Confusedness  of. 
 
 There  are  persons  who  are  never  easy 
 unless  they  are  putting  your  books  and 
 papers  in  order — that  is,  according  to  their 
 notions  of  the  matter — and  hide  things, 
 lest  they  should  be  lost,  where  neither  the 
 owner  nor  anybody  else  can  find  them. 
 This  is  a  sort  of  magpie  faculty.  If  any- 
 thing is  left  where  you  want  it,  it  is  called 
 litter.  There  is  pedantry  in  housewifery, 
 as  well  as  in  the  gravest  concerns. 
 Abraham  Tucker  complained  that  when- 
 ever his  maid-servant  had  been  in  his 
 library  he  could  not  sit  comfortably  to 
 work  again  for  several  days.  Hazlitt. 
 
 ORDER — in  Creation. 
 
 Creation  is  the  production  of  order. 
 What  a  simple,  but  at  the  same  time  com- 
 prehensive, and  pregnant  principle  is  here  ! 
 Plato  could  tell  his  disciples  no  ultimate 
 truth  of  more  pervading  significance. 
 Order  is  the  law  of  all  intelligible  existence. 
 Everything  that  exists  in  the  world,  every- 
 thing that  has  either  been  made  by  God, 
 or  has  been  produced  by  man,  of  any  per- 
 manent value,  is  only  some  manifestation 
 of  order  in  its  thousandfold  possibilities. 
 Everything  that  has  a  shape  is  a  mani- 
 festation of  order;  shape  is  only  a  con- 
 sistent arrangement  of  parts ;  shapelessness 
 
 is  only  found  in  the  whirling  columns  that 
 sweep  across  African  Saharas ;  but  even 
 these  columns  have  their  curious  balance, 
 which  cakmlators  of  forces  might  foretell, 
 and  the  individual  grains  of  sand  of  which 
 they  are  composed,  reveal  mathematical 
 miracles  to  the  microscope.  Every  blade 
 of  grass  in  the  field  is  measured ;  the  green 
 cups  and  the  coloured  crowns  of  every 
 flower  are  curiously  counted ;  the  stars  of 
 the  firmament  wheel  in  cunningly  cal- 
 culated orbits  J  even  the  storms  have  their 
 laws.  Professor  Blackie. 
 
 ORDER— in  the  Divine  Government. 
 
 When  we  consider  how  exact  care  is 
 taken  in  well  ordered  secular  governments, 
 njt  only  that  things  be  done  which  the 
 affairs  of  the  government  required,  but  that 
 they  be  done  regularly  and  in  the  way 
 which  is  prescribed  and  set,  so  as  that  every 
 one  knows  and  attends  the  business  of  his 
 own  pace  and  station,  and  that  no  one 
 may  expect  that  from  the  treasurer  which 
 is  to  be  done  by  the  chancellor,  or  that 
 from  him  which  belongs  to  the  secretary  of 
 state ;  if  there  be  any  beauty  and  come- 
 liness in  order,  where  sh(mld  we  more  ex- 
 pect to  find  it  than  in  the  Divine  govern- 
 ment, and  in  the  conduct  and  management 
 of  the  aft'airs  of  the  supreme  and  celestial 
 kingdom ;  wherein  only  the  remoteness  of 
 those  things  from  our  sense  makes  every- 
 thing seem  little  and  inconsiderable. 
 
 John  Sowe. 
 ORDER— Fruits  of. 
 
 Order  is  the  sanity  of  the  mind,  the 
 health  of  the  body,  the  peace  of  the  city, 
 the  security  of  the  state.  As  the  beams 
 to  a  house,  as  the  bones  to  the  microcosm 
 of  man,  so  is  order  to  all  things. 
 
 Dr.  Southey, 
 ORDER — in  Human  Doings. 
 
 In  human  doings  and  human  productions 
 we  see  everywhere  the  same  manifestation 
 [of  order].  Well-ordered  stones  make 
 architecture;  well-ordered  social  regu- 
 lations make  a  constitution  and  a  police ; 
 well-ordered  ideas  make  good  logic ;  well- 
 ordered  words  make  good  writing ;  well- 
 ordered  imaginations  and  emotions  make 
 good  poetry;  well-ordered  facts  make 
 science.  Disorder,  on  the  other  hand, 
 makes  nothing  at  all,  but  unmakes  every- 
 thing. Stones  in  disorder  produce  ruins  j 
 an  ill-ordered  social  condition  is  decline, 
 revolution,  or  anarchy;  ill-ordered  ideas 
 are  absurdity ;  ill-ordered  words  are  neither 
 sense  nor  grammar;  ill-ordered  imagi- 
 nations and  emotions  are  madness;  ill- 
 ordered  facts  are  chaos. 
 
 Professor  Blackie. 
 ORDER— Importance  of. 
 
 The  most  important  results  may  depend 
 
6i0 
 
 OEDEE-ORGANIC  UNITY  OF  MAN. 
 
 on  the  right  place  and  position  of  things. 
 Should  earth(iu;ikes  shake  the  ground,  or 
 even  storms  violently  agitate  the  air,  that 
 pyramid  stands  insecure,  which,  according 
 to  the  poet — 
 
 "  Like  an  inverted  cone. 
 
 Wants  the  proper  base  to  stand  upon." 
 
 What  a  monster  in  nature,  how  hideous  of 
 aspect,  and  happily  of  brief  existence,  vvere 
 that  body  which  should  have  its  organs 
 and  members  so  misplaced,  that  the  hands 
 occupied  the  place  of  the  feet,  and  tlie 
 heart  palpitated  in  the  cavity  of  the  brain  ! 
 And  who.  besides,  does  not  know  that  the 
 fruitfuluoss,  the  beauty,  the  very  life  of  a 
 tree,  depends  not  only  on  its  having  both 
 roots  and  branches,  but  on  these  members 
 being  placed  in  their  natural  order  ?  Let 
 a  tree  be  planted  upside  down — set  the 
 roots  in  the  air,  and  the  boughs  in  the 
 earth,  and  I  need  not  ask  how  much  fruit 
 it  would  yield,  nor  how  many  seasons  the 
 unhappy  plant  would  survive  such  bar- 
 barous and  blundering  treatment. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 OSDEE— -Meaning  of. 
 
 What  is  this  wonderful  enchanter  called 
 OEDER  ?  What,  exactly,  do  we  mean  by 
 it  ?  If  we  look  into  it  more  narrowly,  we 
 shall  find  that  it  implies  the  separation, 
 division,  and  distribution  of  things  according 
 to  their  qualities,  in  certain  definite  well 
 cahnilated  times  and  spaces.  Number  and 
 measure  are  the  essence  of  it.  The  sands 
 of  the  desert  cannot  be  numbered ;  at  least 
 not  by  us ;  relatively  to  our  faculties  they 
 are  mere  chaos  ;  but  the  soldiers  of  a  well- 
 ordered  army,  arranged  in  rank  and  file, 
 can  be  numbered,  and  their  thousands  told 
 Vv'ith  as  much  ease  as  the  units  of  a  small 
 sum,  if  only  the  arrangements  be  com- 
 pltted.  So  then  order  consists  in  dividing 
 a  confused  multitude  of  individual  elements 
 into  groups  that  bear  a  natural  resemblance 
 to  one  another  in  kind,  in  number,  and  in 
 measure.  A  squul  of  fuU-grown  soldiers, 
 five  in  front,  and  three  in  depth,  like  the 
 band  of  the  old  Greek  chorus,  is  perfect 
 order;  each  unit  being  like  the  other,  and 
 the  whole  being  composed  of  parts  that 
 bear  a  definite  relation  of  equality  or  pro- 
 portion to  the  whole ;  the  many  under  the 
 controlling  power  of  order  have  become  one, 
 and  with  that  unity  have  acquired  a  dis- 
 tinct character,  aild  are  capable  of  answer- 
 ing a  definite  purpose.  This,  and  this  only, 
 is  the  difference  between  an  avalanche  of 
 shattered  rocks  on  the  storm -battered  sides 
 of  Mont  Blanc  or  Ben  Msic-Dhui,  and  the 
 stable  piles  of  the  Memphian  pyramids,  or 
 tlie  cliaste  columns  of  the  Partheon ;  be- 
 t-.veen  what  the  great  Scotch  poet  paints 
 
 "Crags,   knolls,  and   mounds,   confusedly 
 hurled. 
 The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world," 
 
 and  the  beautiful  procession  of  things 
 which  Moses  describes  as  marching  forth 
 into  existence  at  the  fiat  of  the  Omnipo- 
 tent. Professor  Blackie. 
 
 ORDER— Universal. 
 
 Order  is  heaven's  first  law — a  glorious  law. 
 
 Seen  in  those  pure  and  beauteous  isles  of 
 
 light. 
 That  come  and  go,  as  circling  months  fulfil 
 Their  high  behest.     Nor  less  on  earth  dis- 
 
 cern'd 
 'Mid  rocks  snow  clad,  or  wastes  of  herbless 
 
 sand. 
 Throughout  all  climes,  beneath  all  varying 
 
 skies. 
 Fixing  for  e'en  the  smallest  flower  that 
 
 blooms. 
 Its  place  of  growth.  Milton. 
 
 ORDINANCES— Gospel. 
 
 These  are  institutions  of  Divine  authority 
 relating  to  the  worship  of  God;  such  as 
 ^a/3i!i«;»  (Matt,  xxviii,  19).  2.  The  Lord's 
 Supper  (1  Cor.  xi,  24,  &c.).  3.  PuUic 
 minisiry,  or  preaching  and  reading  the 
 Word  (Rom.  x,  15;  Eph.  iv,  13;  Mark 
 xvi,  15).  4.  Searing  the  Gospel  (Mark 
 iv,  24;  Rom.  x,  17).  5.  Public  prayer 
 (1  Cor.  xvi,  15,  19;  Matt,  vi,  6;  Psa. 
 V,  1,  7).  6.  Singing  of  Psalms  (Col. 
 iii,  16;  Eph.  v,  19).  7.  Fasting  (James 
 iv,  9;  Matt.  i.x,  15;  Joel  ii,  12).  8. 
 Solemn  thanksgiving  (Psa.  1,  14;  1  Thess. 
 V,  18).  C.  Bach. 
 
 ORDINANCES— Use  of. 
 
 The  ordinances  are  the  pipes  of  th.e 
 sanctuary,  whujh  empty  the  golden  oil  of 
 grace  in  to  the  soul ;  they  are  scalaparadisi, 
 the  ladder  by  which  we  ascend  to  the 
 kingdom  of  heaven.  T.  JFatson. 
 
 ORGANIC  UNITY  OF  MAN. 
 
 The  human  race  is  an  organic  whole. 
 The  i'.idividual  man  is  more  intimately 
 united  to  every  other  man,  and  to  all  past 
 and  coming  generations,  than  the  leaf 
 which  flutters  on  the  twig  of  a  great  tree 
 is  connected  v^ith  the  tree  itself,  and  with 
 every  other  leaf  that  swells  its  foliiige,  or 
 with  the  seed  which  was  ages  ago  planted 
 in  the  soil,  and  from  which  the  noble  plant 
 has  issued.  That  organic  unity  of  the 
 Church,  springing  chiefly  out  of  a  common 
 life,  derived  from  Christ  and  maintained 
 by  His  indwelling  Spirit,  and  which  the 
 Apostle  Paul  so  fully  illustrates  by  the 
 union  of  the  members  of  the  human  frame, 
 holds  equally  true,  though  on  different 
 grounds,  of  the  whole  family  of  man. 
 
 And  what  is  true  of  the  human  race,  is 
 
ORIGIN  OP  EVIL- ORIGINALITY. 
 
 641 
 
 true  of  all  sp'ritual  intelligences  in  the 
 universe  of  God.  "  We  are  all  members 
 one  of  another."  We  form  a  part  of  a 
 mighty  whole  that  finds  its  unity  in  God. 
 Subtle  links  from  within  and  from  without 
 in  God's  infinite  network,  bind  us  for  good 
 or  evil,  for  weal  or  woe,  to  spirits  of  light 
 and  of  darkness;  to  principalities  and 
 powers  in  other  spheres  and  systems  of 
 iDeing,  from  the  lowest  outcast  in  the  unseen 
 world  of  criminals,  up  to  Gabriel  before 
 the  throne  of  God ;  while  over  all,  compre- 
 hending all,  sustaining  and  harmonising 
 all,  is  the  Great  I  Am,  Father,  Son,  and 
 Spirit.  Br.  Iladeod. 
 
 ORIGIN  OP  EVIL— Discussion  of  the. 
 
 To  engage  one's  mind  in  speculation 
 upon  this  subject  is  like  going  into  a  coal 
 pit,  the  deeper  you  go  the  dai-ker  it  be- 
 comes, until  you  lose  all  light  and  are 
 enshrouded  with  nothing  but  the  blackness 
 of  darkness.  John  Bate. 
 
 ORIGIN  OP  EVIL— a  Pact. 
 
 If  you  ask  how  nature  hath  dejected  us, 
 how  we  came  originally  thus  depraved  ? 
 I  answer.  We  know  not  so  well  how  we 
 came  by  it,  as  we  are  sure  we  have  it. 
 Nothing  is  more  certainly  true  to  be 
 preached,  nothing  more  secretly  bard  to 
 be  understood.  Therefore,  as  in  the  case 
 of  a  town  on  fire,  let  us  not  busily  inquire 
 how  it  came,  but  carefully  endeavour  to 
 put  it  out.  A  traveller  passing  by,  and 
 seeing  a  man  fallen  into  a  deep  pit,  began 
 to  wonder  how  he  fell  in;  to  whom  the 
 other  replied,  "  Do  thou,  good  friend, 
 rather  study  how  to  help  nie  out,  than 
 stand  questioning  how  I  came  in." 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 ORIGINAL  SIN- Denial  of. 
 
 Now,  he  who  would  deny  original  sin, 
 must  contradict  all  experience  in  the 
 transmission  of  qualities.  The  very  hound 
 transmits  his  peculiarities  learnt  by  edu- 
 cation, and  the  Spanish  horse  his  paces, 
 taught  by  art,  to  his  off"spring,  as  a  part  of 
 their  nature.  If  it  were  not  so  in  man, 
 there  could  be  no  history  of  man  as  a 
 species ;  no  tracing  out  the  tendencies  of  a 
 race  or  natiou ;  nothing  but  the  uncon- 
 nected repetitions  of  isolated  individuals, 
 and  their  lives.  It  is  plain  that  the  first 
 man  must  have  exerted  on  his  race  an 
 infiiience  quite  peculiar;  that  his  acts 
 must  have  biassed  their  acts.  And  this 
 bias  or  tendency  is  what  we  call  original 
 sin.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 ORIGINAL  SIN— in  the  Infant. 
 
 Could  we  view  things  in  semine,  and 
 look  through  principles,  what  a  nest  of 
 impurities  might  we  see  in  the  heart  of 
 the  least  infant !    like  a   knot   of  little 
 
 snakes  wrapped  up  in  a  dunghill !  What  a 
 radical,  productive  force  of  sin  might  we 
 behold  in  all  his  faculties,  ready  upon 
 occasion,  and  the  maturities  of  age,  to 
 display  itself  with  a  cursed  fertility  ! 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 As  the  oak  is  in  the  acorn ;  the  blade, 
 ear,  and  full  corn  in  the  seed,  so  sin  is  in 
 the  new-born  infant ;  and  as  the  proper 
 soil,  and  atmosjiheric  influences  will  bring 
 out  the  sapling  tree  from  the  acorn,  and 
 the  blade,  &c.,  from  the  seed,  so  will  the 
 development  of  life  in  the  infant  and  the 
 circumstances  in  which  it  shall  be  placed, 
 bring  out  the  original  sin  from  its  nature 
 into  practical  actions.  John  Bate. 
 
 ORIGINAL  SIN— not  Punished  in  EeU. 
 
 Man  is  not  punished  in  the  future  life 
 for  being  born  in  sin,  but  for  livinc)  in  sin. 
 Tlie  one  he  could  not  prevent,  the  other  he 
 can,  by  the  grace  of  God  proffered  to  him. 
 Ibid. 
 ORIGINAL  SIN— a  Root. 
 
 A  pious  minister,  having  preached  on 
 the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  was  afterwards 
 waited  on  by  some  persons  who  stated 
 their  objections  to  what  he  had  advanced. 
 After  hearing  them,  he  said,  "  I  hope  you 
 do  not  deny  actual  sin,  too  ?"  "  No," 
 they  replied.  The  good  man  expressed  his 
 satisfaction  at  their  acknowledgment; 
 but  to  show  the  folly  of  their  opinions  in 
 denying  a  doctrine  so  plainly  taught  ii» 
 Scripture,  he  asked  them,  "  Did  you  evi'i 
 see  a  tree  growing  without  a  root  r"' 
 
 /.  G.  Wilson. 
 ORIGINAL  SIN— Unseen. 
 
 The  leprosy  in  the  beginning  was  unseen, 
 and  many  a  one  might  have  looked  upon 
 the  man,  and  have  said  he  was  not  a  leper. 
 The  seed  of  the  thistle,  at  first  is  hid  in 
 the  ground,  and  many  a  traveller  might 
 pass  that  way  and  never  observe  it.  Many 
 diseases  of  the  body,  commence  internally, 
 away  from  the  gaze  of  men.  So  with  sin. 
 In  its  original,  it  exists  in  the  infant, 
 although  parents  and  friends  may  not 
 perceive  it.  And  as  the  leprosy  unseen 
 will  in  time  develop  itself,  and  the  thistle- 
 seed  spring  up,  and  the  disease  break  out, 
 so  will  the  original  sin  of  the  infant  grow 
 with  his  growth  and  strengthen  with  his 
 strength,  until  no  one  shall  doubt  whether 
 he  is  a  sinner  or  no.  John  Bate. 
 
 ORIGINALITY— Definition  of. 
 
 People  are  always  talking  about  origi- 
 nality ;  but  what  do  they  mean  ?  As  soon 
 as  we  are  born,  the  world  begins  to  work 
 upon  us;  and  this  goes  on  to  the  end. 
 And  after  all,  what  can  we  call  our  own, 
 except  energy,  strength,  and  will  ?  If  I 
 could  give  an  account  of  all  that  I  owe  to 
 41 
 
642 
 
 ORIGINALITY- PADT. 
 
 great  predecessors  and  contemporaries, 
 there  would  be  but  a  small  balance  in  my 
 favour.  Goetlhe. 
 
 OKIGINALITY— Example  of. 
 
 Wordsworth  was  no  copyist  upon  him- 
 self, he  formed  himself.  He  took  no  model ; 
 he  took  the  powers  and  light  which  were 
 in  him  and  worked  them  out.  There  is 
 many  a  man  who  is  wasting  his  energies, 
 who  has  nevertheless  the  power  within  him 
 to  be  something,  if  he  will  only  not  try  to 
 be  something  which  he  cannot  be;  if  he 
 will  only  be  content  to  be  what  he  is 
 within  himself,  instead  of  aiming  at  some 
 model  it  is  impossible  for  him  even  to 
 realize.  Abstractedly,  no  doubt  the  armour 
 of  the  warrior  was  better  than  the  sling  of 
 the  shepherd;  but  for  the  shepherd  the 
 shepherd's  sling  was  best.  And  so  Words- 
 worth worked  out  his  history,  destiny,  and 
 life.  F.'W.  Rohertson. 
 
 OLYMPIC  GAMES. 
 
 The  games  and  combats  so  much  in  use 
 among  the  Greeks,  were  principally  en- 
 couraged on  account  of  their  being  ad- 
 mirably calculated  for  rendering  the  bodies 
 of  their  youth  robust  and  vigorous,  that 
 they  might  be  enabled  to  support  the 
 fatigues  of  war;  they  likewise  formed  a 
 material  part  of  their  religious  ceremonies. 
 
 Of  these  exercises,  the  heroes  of  an- 
 tiquity, such  as  Hercules,  Theseus,  Castor 
 and  Pollux,  were  the  original  inventors; 
 and  the  greatest  poets  aspired  at  glory  by 
 celebrating  the  praises  of  those  who  con- 
 quered and  excelled  in  them.  In  process 
 of  time  public  instructors  in  these  exercises 
 arose,  who  formed  a  separate  profession 
 by  themselves,  and  often  made  an  osten- 
 tatious display  of  their  skill  by  contending 
 with  one  another  in  public. 
 
 Of  these  games  there  were  four  prin- 
 cipal and  solemn  exhibitions;  namely,  the 
 Olympic,  the  Pythian,  the  Ifemean,  and 
 the  Isthmian. 
 
 The  Olympic  games  were  the  most  cele- 
 brated for  their  grandeur  and  excellence. 
 They  are  said  to  have  been  instituted  by 
 Pelops.  No  particular  time  was  at  first 
 set  apart  for  their  celebration  ;  but  about 
 the  year  before  Christ  784,  Iphitus,  king 
 of  Elis,  fixed  it  to  every  fourth  year.  The 
 games  were  consecrated  to  Jupiter,  and 
 were  performed  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
 Olympia,  a  city  in  the  district  of  Pisa. 
 
 From  this  regulation,  the  period  of  four 
 years  which  intervened  between  one  cele- 
 bration and  another  was  called  an  olympiad. 
 Ancient  authors  reckon  their  chronology  by 
 olypiads,  beginning  at  the  olympiad  which 
 happened  in  the  year  before  Christ  776. 
 
 The  Greeks  exerted  their  utmost  eftbrts 
 t,)  support  the  magnificence  of  these  games, 
 which   were    regularly   celebrated   whilst 
 
 that  people  maintained  their  liberty.  The 
 vast  concourse  of  spectators  who  constantly 
 flocked  thither,  inspired  the  combatants 
 with  the  highest  spirit  of  emulation,  and 
 to  come  oS'  victorious  was  esteemed  the 
 greatest  glory. 
 
 The  year  was  distinguished  by  the  name 
 of  the  conqueror  in  the  chariot-races,  wliich 
 were  accounted  to  be  the  most  honorable 
 of  all,  and  his  praises  were  sung  by  the 
 poets. 
 
 The  victor  in  the  chariot-races,  after 
 being  adorned  with  a  crown  of  olive, 
 received  a  palm  into  his  hand,  and  was 
 conducted  through  the  course  by  a  herald, 
 who  proclaimed  him  victor  by  the  sound 
 of  a  trumpet.  This  was  accompanied  by 
 loud  shouts  from  the  spectators.  On  re- 
 turning to  his  native  city,  he  made  his 
 entry  through  a  breach  made  in  the  wall 
 for  that  purpose,  mounted  on  a  chariot 
 drawn  by  four  horses,  all  his  fellow  citizens 
 going  out  to  meet  him.  Anon. 
 
 ORTHODOXY— Dead. 
 
 No  doubt  there  has  often  been  such  a 
 thing  as  "dead  orthodoxy," — a  creed  of 
 the  "  letter," — a  religion  exclusively  de- 
 pendent on  logic,  and  having  nothing  to 
 do  with  the  feelings; — belief  that  is  not 
 sublimated  into  faith  ; — a  system  of  arteries 
 and  veins  infiltrated  with  some  coloured 
 substance,  like  the  specimens  in  an  ana- 
 tomical museum,  but  in  which  none  of  the 
 life-blood  of  religion  circulates. 
 
 H.  Hogers. 
 
 PAIN— Advantages  of. 
 
 Pain  has  been  the  means  of  increasing 
 our  knowledge,  our  skill,  and  our  comforts. 
 Look  to  the  discoveries  made  in  science, 
 ill  botany,  in  chemistry,  in  anatomy ;  what 
 a  knowledge  have  we  gained  of  the  struc- 
 ture and  uses  of  plants,  while  we  were 
 seeking  some  herb  to  soothe  pain  or  cure 
 disease !  what  a  knowledge  have  we  gained 
 of  drugs  and  salts,  and  earths,  useful  for 
 agriculture  or  for  the  fine  arts,  while  we 
 have  been  seeking  only  to  find  an  oint- 
 ment or  a  medicine;  we  have  sought  a 
 draught  to  allay  the  burning  thirst  of  a 
 fever,  and  we  have  found  a  dozen  delicious 
 beverages  to  drink  for  our  pleasure  or  re- 
 lief. We  studied  anatomy  to  find  out  the 
 seat  of  disease,  and  how  to  attack  it,  and 
 we  found  what  we  did  not  seek,  a  thousand 
 wonderful  works  of  God  !  a  thousand  most 
 curious  contrivances,  most  admirable  de- 
 lights !  We  found  a  model  for  the  ribs  of 
 a  ship ;  we  found  a  pattern  of  a  telescope 
 in  the  eye;  we  found  joints,  and  straps, 
 and  knitting,  and  valves  which  have  been 
 copied  into  the  workshop  of  the  mechanic, 
 and   the  study  of  the  philosopher.     Yes, 
 
PAIN— PARABLE. 
 
 643 
 
 we  may  thank  our  liability  to  pain  for  this 
 — for  if  pain  had  not  existed,  who  can  tell 
 ■whether  these  things  would  have  been  so 
 soon,  if  at  all,  discovered  ?  Sharpe. 
 
 PAIN— Necessity  of. 
 
 If  we  interrogate  nature,  she  will  tell  us 
 that  one  of  those  evils  which  we  most  de- 
 precate and  seek  to  avoid,  namely,  pun, 
 is  necessary  to  our  preservation,  in  the 
 present  state  of  things.  By  pleasure  and 
 pain,  for  the  most  part,  we  regulate  our 
 actions.  A  man  that  felt  no  pain,  would 
 not  be  able  to  tell  whether  he  sat  upon  a 
 chair  or  a  red-hot  iron  plate ;  and  would 
 thus  run  the  chance  of  being  destroyed. 
 If  he  felt  no  pain  a  man  might  walk  upon 
 nails,  or  other  sharp  instruments,  and  thus 
 inflict  serious  injuries  upon  himself,  almost 
 unconsciously.  Little  children  when  they 
 fracture  a  bone  could  never  be  kept  suffi- 
 ciently still  for  the  separated  parts  to  be 
 kept  in  apposition  but  for  the  pain  which 
 is  caused  by  the  movement  of  the  injured 
 limb.  In  the  jiresent  state  of  things,  in- 
 deed, it  would  almost  seem  impossible  for 
 Infinite  posver  and  wisdom  so  to  construct 
 an  animal,  as  to  cause  that  he  neither  be 
 liable  to  pain,  nor  suffer  inconvenience 
 from  the  absence  of  that  liability.  To  ask 
 it,  is  to  ask  that  he  may  walk,  unhurt, 
 through  fire,  or  on  the  bottom  of  the 
 ocean ;  that  he  may  be  crushed  by  weights 
 or  torn  by  machinery,  and  yet  remain  un- 
 injured. 
 
 Pain,  again,  especially  the  pain  of  hunger, 
 is  our  chief  incentive  to  action ;  and  in 
 activity  consists  our  chief  animal  enjoy- 
 ment. Yea,  did  we  not  suffer  from  some 
 necessity  or  other,  it  is  probable  that  we 
 might  sink  into  inertion,  since  the  impulse 
 to  exertion  must  necessarily  consist  in  the 
 necessity  of  supplying  some  toant,  of  grati- 
 fying some  desire,  or  of  removing  or  al- 
 laying some  pain  or  uneasiness.  Hagg. 
 
 PAIN— Pleasures  with. 
 
 Pain  itself  is  not  without  its  alleviations. 
 It  may  be  violent  and  frequent,  but  it  is 
 seldom  both  violent  and  long-continued  ; 
 and  its  pauses  and  intermissions  become 
 positive  pleasures.  It  has  the  power  of 
 shedding  a  satisfaction  over  intervals  of 
 ease,  which,  I  believe,  few  enjoyments  ex- 
 ceed. Faley. 
 
 PAIN 
 
 The  experience  of  the  medical  profession 
 will  always  testify  that  useless  pain  is  sel- 
 dom inflicted ;  for  that  which  destroys, 
 usually  causes  absence  of  pain.  Thus,  a 
 limb  which  is  so  severely  injured  as  to  be 
 destroyed,  even  by  crushing  or  burning, 
 ceases  to  be  painful.  The  man  who  is 
 frozen  to  death  feels  as  though  he  were 
 going  quietly  to  sleep.      And  those  who 
 
 have  been  rescued  from  drowning,  uni- 
 formly state  that  their  sensations  were  not 
 very  distressing.  ^ai/g- 
 
 PANTHEISM— Definition  of. 
 
 Pantheism,  as  the  etymology  of  the  word 
 indicates,  signifies  that  system  which  main- 
 tains that  all  phenomena  of  every  class 
 known  to  man,  whether  spiritual  or  mate- 
 rial, are  to  be  referred  to  but  one  substance, 
 and  that  the  universal  substance  of  God  ; 
 and  thus,  matter  and  mind  being  declared 
 to  be  only  different  modifications  of  one 
 substance,  pantheism,  from  different  points 
 of  view,  assumes  sometimes  a  materialistic, 
 and  at  others  an  idealistic  complexion. 
 The  atlieist  says  that  there  is  no  God;  the 
 pantheist  tliat  everything  is  God.  Tlie 
 materialist  says  that  all  the  phenomena  of 
 the  universe  are  to  be  referred  to  one  sub- 
 stance, which  is  matter ;  the  pantheist 
 says  that  they  are  all  to  be  referred  to  one 
 substance,  and  that  the  absolute  substance 
 of  God.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 PANTHEISM— Delusion  of. 
 
 No  doubt  the  imagination  is  often  de- 
 ceived by  the  gay  drapery  in  which  the 
 objects  set  forth  to  our  contemplation  by 
 pantheism  is  decked,  and  the  intellect, 
 dizzied  by  the  many  turnings  of  sophistry 
 through  which  it  has  been  carried  before 
 the  vision  is  disclosed,  is  the  less  capable  of 
 detecting  tlie  deception ;  yet  the  heart, 
 more  faithful  than  the  head,  will  feel  at 
 times  that  it  is  but  a  phantom  which  it  is 
 required  to  love  and  worship,  and  that 
 truly  within  there  is  neither  heart  nor  life, 
 though  there  may  be  grace  and  motion  in 
 the  outward  form.  The  worshipper  carried 
 through  the  long  avenues  of  columns  and 
 statues  and  the  splendid  halls  of  the  ancient 
 temple  of  the  Egyptian  Thebes,  was  not 
 conducted  at  last  to  a  more  miserable  ter- 
 mination, when  in  the  inner  shrine  he  found 
 one  of  the  lower  animals,  than  the  follower 
 of  a  modern  philosopher  when  conducted 
 through  processes,  laws,  and  developments 
 to  a  divinity  who  has  less  of  separate 
 sensation  and  consciousness  and  life  than 
 the  very  brutes  which  Egypt  declared  to 
 be  gods.  McCosh. 
 
 PARABLE— Definition  of. 
 
 A  fable  or  allegorical  instruction,  founded 
 on  something  real  or  apparent  in  nature 
 or  history,  from  which  a  moral  is  drawn  by 
 comparing  it  with  something  in  which  the 
 people  are  more  immediately  concerned : 
 such  are  the  parables  of  Dives  and  Lazarus, 
 or  the  Prodigal  Son,  of  the  Ten  Virgins,  &c. 
 C.  Buck. 
 PARABLE— Use  of  a. 
 
 A  parable  is  not  like  a  looking-glass,  to 
 represent  all  forms  and  faces,  but  a  well- 
 
644 
 
 PARADISE— PARDON. 
 
 drawn  picture,  to  remonstrate  tViat  person 
 whereof"  it  is  a  counterfeit.  It  is  like  a 
 knife :  with  the  haft  it  cuts  not,  with  the 
 back  it  cuts  not ;  it  cuts  with  the  edge. 
 A  candle  is  made  to  light  us,  not  to  heat 
 us;  a  stove  is  made  to  heat  us,  not  to 
 light  us.  T.  Adams. 
 
 PARADISE— Heavenlj , 
 
 Let  the  words  of  our  Lord  be  repeated, 
 "To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  Me  in  para- 
 dise." But  where  this  paradise ;  what 
 this  paradise  ?  We  can  say,  in  answer  to 
 these  questions,  that  with  this  heavenly 
 paradise  into  which  the  redeemed  at  death 
 do  enter,  the  ancient,  the  earthly  para- 
 dise is  not  fit  to  be  compared.  In  the 
 one,  the  direct  intercourse  with  God  was 
 but  occasional;  in  the  other  it  shall  be 
 constant.  In  the  one,  the  Deity  was  known 
 only  as  He  revealed  Himself  in  the  works 
 of  creation  and  in  the  ways  of  His  provi- 
 dence ;  in  the  other,  it  will  be  as  the  God 
 of  our  redemption,  the  God  and  Father  of 
 our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus,  that  He  will 
 be  recognised,  adored,  obeyed — all  the 
 higher  moral  attributes  of  His  nature 
 shining  forth  in  harmonious  and  illustrious 
 displaj'.  Into  the  earthly  paradise  the 
 tempter  entered ;  from  the  heavenly  he 
 will  be  shut  out.  From  the  earthly  para- 
 dise sad  exiles  once  were  driven,  from  the 
 heavenly  we  shall  go  no  more  out  for  ever. 
 Still,  however,  after  all  such  imperfect  and 
 unsatisfying  comparisons,  the  questions  re- 
 turn upon  us,  Where,  and  What  is  the  pa- 
 radise of  the  redeemed  ?  Our  simplest  and 
 our  best  answers  to  those  questions  per- 
 haps are  these — Where  is  paradise  ?  wher- 
 ever Jesus  is.  What  is  paradise  ?  to  be 
 for  ever  with,  and  to  be  fully  like  our  Lord. 
 We  know — for  God  has  told  us  so,  of  that 
 paradise  of  the  redeemed — that  it  is  a  land 
 of  perfect  light ;  the  day  has  dawned  there ; 
 the  shadows  have  for  ever  fled  away.  It 
 is  a  land  of  perfect  blessedness ;  no  tears 
 fall  there  ;  no  sighs  rise  there ;  up  to  the 
 measure  of  its  capacity,  each  spirit  is  filled 
 with  a  pure,  never  ending  joy.  It  is  a  land 
 of  perfect  holiness;  nothing  that  defileth 
 shall  enter  there,  neither  whatsoever  lovetb 
 or  m:iketh  a  lie.  But  what  gives  to  that 
 land  its  light,  its  joy,  its  holiness  in  the 
 sight  of  the  redeemed  ?  it  is  the  presence 
 of  Jesus.  If  there  be  no  night  there,  it 
 is  because  the  Lamb  is  the  light  of  that 
 place;  if  there  be  no  tears  there,  it  is  be- 
 cause from  every  eye  his  hand  has  wiped 
 oft'  every  tear.  The  holiness  that  reigneth 
 there  is  a  holiness  caught  from  the  seeing 
 Him  as  He  is.  And  trace  the  tide  of  joy 
 that  circulates  through  the  hosts  of  the 
 blessed  to  its  fountain-head,  you  will  find 
 it  within  that  throne  on  which  the  Lamb 
 that  once  was  slain  is  sitting.  To  be  with 
 Jesus,  to  be  like  Jesus,  to  love  and  serve 
 
 Him  purely,  deeply,  \infailingly,  unfalter- 
 ingly— that  is  the  Christian's  heaven. 
 
 I   love,  says  one,  to  think  of  heaven  j 
 and  as  I  repeat  the  words,  they  will  find  au 
 echo  in  each  Christian  heart : 
 "  I  love  to  think  of  heaven ;  the  cloudless 
 
 light. 
 Its  tearless  joys,  its  recognitions,  and  its 
 
 fellowships 
 Of  love  and  joy  unending;  but  when  ray 
 
 mind  anticipates 
 The  sight  of  God  incarnate,  wearing  on  His 
 
 hands 
 And  feet  and  sides  marks  of  the  wounds; 
 Which  He  for  me  on  Calvary  endured, 
 All  heaven  beside  is  swallowed  up  in  this ; 
 And    He   who   was   my    hope   of   heaveu 
 
 below 
 Becomes  the  glory  of  my  heaven  above." 
 
 Dr.  Sanna. 
 PARDON— Act  of. 
 
 1.  It  is  an  act  of  free  grace  (Ps.  li,  1  j 
 Isa.  xliii,  25). 
 
 2.  An  act  of  justice ;  God  having  re- 
 ceived satisfaction  by  the  blood  of  Christ 
 (1  John  i,  9). 
 
 3.  A  complete  act ;  a  forgiveness  of  all 
 the  sins  of  His  peoole  (1  John  i,  7; 
 Ps.  ciii,  2,  3). 
 
 4.  An  act  that  never  will  be  repealed 
 (Mic.  vii,  19).  C.  Buck. 
 
 PARDON— Author  of. 
 
 It  is  not  any  creature,  angel  or  man  j 
 but  God.  Ministers  are  said  to  remit  sin 
 declaratively,  but  not  authoritatively;  that 
 is,  they  preach  and  declare  that  there  is 
 remission  of  sins  in  Christ ;  but  to  pretend 
 to  absolve  men  is  the  height  of  blas- 
 phemy (1  Thess.  ii,  4 ;  Ilev.  xiii,  5,  6 ;  Mark 
 ii.  7).  .  Ibid. 
 
 PARDON— Definition  of. 
 
 Pardon  is  the  act  of  forgiving  an  ofi^endei', 
 or  removing  the  guilt  of  sin,  that  the  pun- 
 ishment due  to  it  may  not  be  inflicted. 
 
 Ihid. 
 PARDON— Free. 
 
 God  neither  looks  to  anything  in  the 
 creature  to  wish  Him  to  show  kindness, 
 nor  yet  anything  in  the  creature  to  debar 
 Him;  it  is  neither  righteousness  in  man 
 that  persuades  God  to  pardon  sin,  nor  un- 
 righteousness in  man  that  hinders  Him 
 from  giving  this  pardon,  and  acquitting 
 men  from  their  transgressions.  It  is  only 
 and  simply  for  His  own  sake  that  He 
 pardons.  JIuntingdon. 
 
 PARDON— Joy  of. 
 
 Go  to  the  prisoner  in  his  cell  under 
 sentence  of  death ;  show  him  the  royal 
 mandate  proclaiming  his  pardon,  properly 
 signed  and  sealed;  knock  oS"  his  galling 
 fetters;  open  his  prison  doors,  and  intro- 
 
PAEDON— PARDON  AND  JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 645 
 
 duce  him  once  more  to  the  forfeited  sun- 
 shine of  lieaven.  What  transports  of  rap- 
 ture would  thrill  through  his  heart,  when, 
 in  the  consciousness  of  pardon,  he  rejoiced 
 in  the  light  of  liberty  !  But  how  much 
 greater  cause  of  joy  has  the  pardoned 
 sinner,  called  out  of  darkness  into  mar- 
 vellous light,  renovated  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
 and  fitted  for  the  joys  of  heaven  ! 
 
 JF.  J.  Brock. 
 
 But  0  !  with  what  joy,  joy  unspeakable, 
 even  joy  that  was  full  of  glory,  was  my 
 soul  filled  when  the  weight  of  sin  went  off, 
 and  a  full  assurance  of  faith  broke  in 
 upon  my  disconsolate  soul !  Surely  it  was 
 the  day  of  my  espousals,  a  day  to  be  had 
 in  everlasting  remembrance.  At  first  my 
 joys  were  like  a  spring-tide,  and,  as  it 
 were,  overflowed  the  banks;  go  where  I 
 would  I  could  not  avoid  the  singing  of 
 psalms  almost  aloud ;  afterward  they  be- 
 came more  settled,  and  blessed  be  God, 
 saving  a  few  casual  intervals,  have  abode 
 and  increased  in  my  soid  ever  since. 
 
 G.  Whitfield. 
 
 Once  there  was  an  artisan  who  laboured 
 in  the  service  of  a  rich  p]astern  master. 
 By  some  gross  imprudence  he  had  got  into 
 an  immense  debt  with  an  unmerciful 
 creditor,  who  told  him  that,  unless  he 
 settled  accounts  before  the  close  of  the 
 year,  he  and  his  family  should  be  sold  as 
 slaves.  It  was  impossible  for  the  })oor  man 
 to  pay  the  debt.  He  might  quite  as  well 
 have  tried  to  build  up  a  tower  like  that  of 
 Babel  in  one  night.  Meanwhile  his  master 
 noticed  that  his  work  was  falling  off  every 
 •week.  It  was  not  so  cleverly  and  accurately 
 made  as  it  used  to  be.  The  weekly  amount 
 of  labour  which  he  produced  was  also  much 
 less  than  before.  One  day  he  spoke  about 
 this  to  the  steward.  "  Why,  sir,"  the 
 steward  replied,  "  that  poor  fellow  cannot 
 possibly  make  good  work.  He  cannot 
 manage  his  tools,  for  his  hands  tremble. 
 Nor  can  he  see  well  what  he  is  doing,  for 
 his  eyes  are  often  filled  with  tears.  He 
 often  sits  down  as  in  despair,  and  sighs 
 heavily  ;  and  sometimes  he  makes  himself 
 drunk,  to  forget  his  misery.  A  heavy  debt 
 is  pressing  upon  him,  sir,  and  until  it  is 
 paid  he  will  not  be  able  to  make  one  good 
 piece  of  work."  "  Tell  him,  then,  that  I 
 Lave  paid  his  debt,"  the  generous  master 
 said. 
 
 The  steward  went  up  to  the  servant  and 
 delivered  the  message.  Picture  to  your- 
 selves the  joy  of  that  poor  m;ni.  From 
 that  moment  fresh  vigour  was  poured  into 
 his  veins.  His  hands  trembled  no  more, 
 nor  were  his  eyes  dinnned  with  tears.  He 
 swung  his  hammer  with  a  will,  so  that  it 
 was  a  pleasure  to  see  him.  His  little 
 dwelling  rang  with  his  merry  songs,  and 
 
 he  made  his  work  even  quicker  and  better 
 than  ever  before.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 PARDON— Nature  of. 
 
 Of  the  nature  of  pardon  it  may  be  ob- 
 served, that  the  Scripture  represents  it  by 
 various  phrases ;  a  lifting  up,  or  taking 
 away  sin  (Ps.  xxxii,  1) ;  a  covering  of  it 
 (Ps.  Ixxxv,  2);  a  blotting  it  out  (Ps.  xliii, 
 25) ;  a  non-remembrance  of  it  (Heb.  viii, 
 12 ;  Is.  xliii,  25).  C.  Buck. 
 
 PARDON— Reception  of. 
 
 So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  just  as  Chris- 
 tian came  up  to  the  cross,  his  burden  loosed 
 from  ofl"  his  shoulder  and  fell  from  ofl'  his 
 back  and  began  to  tumble,  and  so  con- 
 tinued to  do  till  it  came  to  the  mouth  of 
 the  sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw  it 
 no  more.  Then  was  Christian  glad  and 
 lightsome,  and  said  with  a  merry  heart, 
 "He  hath  given  me  rest  by  His  sorrow, 
 and  life  by  His  death."  Then  he  stood 
 still  awhile  to  look  and  wonder,  for  it  was 
 very  surprising  to  him,  that  the  sight  of 
 the  cross  should  thus  ease  him  of  his  bur- 
 den ;  he  looked  therefore  and  looked  again, 
 even  till  the  springs  that  were  in  his  head 
 sent  the  water  down  his  cheeks.  Now  as  he 
 stood  looking  and  weeping,  behold  three 
 shining  ones  came  to  him,  and  saluted  him 
 with  "  Peace  be  to  thee."  So  the  first  said 
 to  him,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  ;"  the 
 second  stripped  him  of  his  rags  and  clothed 
 him  with  a  change  of  raiment ;  the  third 
 also  set  a  mark  on  his  forehead,  and  gave 
 him  a  roll  with  a  seal  upon  it,  which  he 
 hade  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and  that  he 
 should  give  it  in  at  tlie  celestial  gate ;  so 
 they  went  on  their  way.  Then  Christian 
 gave  three  leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on  sing- 
 ing— 
 
 "  Thus  far  did  I  come,  laden  with  my  sin. 
 Nor  could  aught  ease   the   grief  that   I 
 
 was  in. 
 Till  I  came  hither ; — What  a  place  is  this ! 
 Must  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss  ? 
 Must  here  the  burden  fall  from   off  my 
 
 back  ?  [crack  ? 
 
 Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me 
 Blest  cross!  blest  sepulchre;  blest  rather  be 
 The  Man  that  there  was  put  to  shame  for 
 
 me."  Bunyan. 
 
 PARDON  AND  JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Pardon  of  sin  and  justification  are  con- 
 sidered by  some  as  the  same  thing  ;  and  it 
 must  be  confessed  that  there  is  a  close 
 connection  ;  in  many  parts  they  agree,  and 
 it  is  without  doubt  that  every  sinner  who 
 shall  be  found  pardoned  at  the  great  day, 
 will  likewise  be  justified ;  yet  they  have 
 been  distinguished  thus  :  1.  An  innocent 
 person,  when  falsely  accused  and  acquitted, 
 is   justified,   but    not    pardoned;    and  a 
 
646 
 
 PARENTS. 
 
 criminal  may  be  pardoned,  tliough  he 
 cannot  be  justified  or  declared  innocent. 
 Pardon  is  of  men  that  are  sinners,  and 
 who  remain  such,  though  pardoned  sinners; 
 but  justification  is  a  pronouncing  persons 
 righteous,  as  if  they  had  never  sinned. 
 2.  Pardon  frees  from  punishment,  but  does 
 not  entitle  to  everlasting  life;  but  justi- 
 fication does  (Horn.  v).  If  we  were  only 
 pardoned,  we  should  indeed  escape  the 
 pains  of  hell,  but  could  have  no  claim  to 
 the  joys  of  heaven ;  for  these  are  more 
 than  the  most  perfect  works  of  man  could 
 merit ;  therefore  they  must  be  what  the 
 Sci'iptures  declare — "  the  gift  of  God." 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 PARENTS— Advice  to. 
 
 Things  lohich  parents  may  ineidcate  upon 
 themselves  and  their  children,  without  fear 
 of  excess : 
 
 1.  Neatnessand  propriety indress,having 
 reference  to  occasion  and  the  circumstances 
 of  the  individual. 
 
 2.  Politeness;  paying  due  regard  to  the 
 tastes  and  feelings  of  otliers. 
 
 3.  Good  humour. 
 
 4.  Cheerfulness. 
 
 5.  Justice  in  respect  to  the  property, 
 character,  and  feelings  of  others. 
 
 6.  Cultivation  of  the  intellect,  with  a 
 view  to  the  discovery  and  vindication  of 
 truth. 
 
 7.  Wisdom ;  the  skill  to  avoid  vice  and 
 misfortune,  and  to  attain  virtue  and  suc- 
 cess. 
 
 8.  Self-control ;  the  power  to  restrain 
 one's  self  from  acts  of  imprudence,  vice, 
 and  folly ;  the  power  to  compel  one's  self 
 to  do  what  is  required  at  the  right  time, 
 and  in  the  right  way. 
 
 9.  Moral  courage ;  the  power  to  resist 
 fashionable  errors ;  to  maintain  unpopular 
 truth  ;  to  show  sympathy,  kindness,  and 
 humanity  toward  the  unfortunate,  the 
 bumble  and  the  poor,  even  where  it  may 
 threaten  momentary  contempt. 
 
 10.  Consistency,  witliout  obstinacy. 
 
 11.  Charity  in  all  its  forms. 
 
 12.  Excellence  in  the  profession  or  pur- 
 suit to  which  a  person  devotes  himself, 
 accompanied  by  equity  and  modesty. 
 
 Things  lohich  parents  should  repress  in 
 themselves  and  their  children  : 
 
 1.  Display  of  all  kinds,  in  dress,  equi- 
 page, manners,  accomplishments,  talents, 
 wit,  personal  beauty,  power  and  wealth. 
 
 2.  Great  riches,  rank,  station,  office,  as 
 instruments  of  selfish  gratification  and 
 pride. 
 
 3.  Exclusiveness,  by  which  persons  affect 
 to  be  of  a  superior  caste. 
 
 4.  That  assumed  superiority  of  taste 
 which  displays  itself  in  hypercritical  dis- 
 content. 
 
 B.  That   pretendedly   superior   sagacity 
 
 which  imputes  bad  motives  as  the  source 
 of  good  actions. 
 
 6.  That  cunning  which  would  make 
 dupes  of  mankind.  S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 PARENTS— Authority  of. 
 
 It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that 
 what  will  make  a  child  stare,  or  tremble, 
 impresses  more  authority.  The  violent 
 emphasis,  the  hard,  stormy  voice,  the 
 menacing  air,  only  weakens  authority;  it 
 commands  a  good  thing  as  if  it  were  only 
 a  bad,  and  fit  to  be  no  way  impressed,  save 
 by  some  stress  of  assumption.  Let  the 
 command  be  always  given  quietly,  as  if  it 
 had  some  right  in  itself  and  could  utter 
 itself  to  the  conscience  by  some  emphasis 
 of  its  own.  Is  it  not  well  understood  that 
 a  bawling  and  violent  teamster  has  no  real 
 government  of  his  team  ?  Is  it  not  prac- 
 tically seen  that  a  skilful  commander  of 
 one  of  those  huge  floating  cities,  moved 
 by  steam  on  our  American  waters,  manages 
 and  works  every  motion  by  the  waving  of 
 a  hand,  or  by  signs  that  pass  in  silence — 
 issuing  no  order  at  all,  save  in  the  gentlest 
 undertone  of  voice  ?  So  when  there  is,  or 
 is  to  be,  a  real  order  and  law  in  the  house, 
 it  will  come  of  no  hard  and  boisterous,  or 
 fretful  and  termagent  way  of  command- 
 ment. Gentleness  will  speak  the  word  of 
 firmness,  and  firmness  will  be  clothed  in 
 the  airs  of  true  gentleness.     Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 PARENTS— Bad. 
 
 Mother  of  Micah  (Judg.  xvii,  3)  ;  Mi 
 (1  Sam.  iii,  13) ;  Saul  (1  Sam.  xx,  33)  ; 
 Athaliah  (2  Chron.  xxii,  3)  ;  Manasseh 
 (2  Chron.  xxxiii,  6) ;  Kerodias  (Mark  vi, 
 21).  Anon, 
 
 PARENTS— Good. 
 
 Abraham  (Gen.  xviii,  19) ;  Jacoh  (Gen 
 xxviii,  32,  &c.) ;  Joseph  (Gen.  xlviii,  13 — 
 20);  3Iother  of  Moses  (Exo.  ii,  2,  3); 
 Manoah  (Judg.  xiii,  8)  ;  Hannah  (1  Sam. 
 i,  28)  ;  David  (2  Sam.  xviii,  5,  33)  ; 
 Shunamite  (2  Kings  iv,  19,  20)  ;  Job 
 (i,  5) ;  Mother  of  Lemuel  (Prov.  xxxi,  1)  ; 
 Nobleman  (John  iv,  49)  ;  Lois  and  Eunice 
 (2  Tim.  i,  5).  Anon. 
 
 PARENTS— Inconsistency  of. 
 
 Parents,  to  do  them  justice,  are  seldom 
 sparing  of  lessons  of  virtue  and  religion  ; 
 in  admonitions  whicli  cost  little  and  which 
 profit  less  ;  whilst  their  example  exhibits  a 
 continual  contradiction  of  what  they  teach. 
 A  father,  for  instance,  will,  with  solemnity 
 and  apparent  earnestness,  warn  his  son 
 against  idleness,  excess  in  drinking,  de- 
 bauchery, and  extravagance,  who  himself 
 loiters  about  all  day  without  employment ; 
 comes  home  every  night  drunk ;  is  made 
 infamous  in  his  neighbourhood  by  some 
 profligate  connection ;  and  wastes  the  for- 
 
PARENTS-PARXT  SPIRIT. 
 
 647 
 
 tune  which  should  support,  or  remain  a 
 provision  for  his  family,  iu  riot,  or  luxury, 
 or  ostentation.  Or  he  will  discourse 
 gravely  before  his  children  of  the  obliga- 
 tion and  importance  of  revealed  religion  ; 
 whilst  they  see  the  most  frivolous,  and 
 oftentimes  feigned  excuses  detain  him 
 from  its  reasonable  and  solemn  ordinances. 
 Or  he  will  set  before  them,  perhaps,  the 
 supreme  and  tremendous  authority  of  Al- 
 mighty God ;  that  such  a  Being  ought 
 not  to  be  named,  or  even  thought  upon, 
 without  sentiments  of  profound  awe  and 
 veneration.  This  may  be  the  lecture  he 
 delivers  to  his  family  one  hour;  when  the 
 next,  if  an  occasion  arise  to  excite  his 
 anger,  or  his  surprise,  they  will  hear  him 
 treat  the  name  of  the  Deity  with  the  most 
 irreverent  profanation,  and  sport  with  the 
 terms  and  denunciations  of  the  Christian 
 religion,  as  if  they  were  the  language  of 
 some  ridiculous  and  long  exploded  super- 
 stition. Now,  even  a  child  is  not  to  be 
 imposed  upon  by  such  mockery.  He  sees 
 through  the  grimace  of  this  counterfeited 
 concern  for  virtue.  He  discovers  that  his 
 parent  is  acting  a  part,  and  receives  his 
 admonitions  as  he  would  hear  the  same 
 maxims  from  the  mouth  of  a  player.  And 
 when  once  this  o])inion  has  taken  pos- 
 session of  the  child's  mind,  it  has  a  fatal 
 effect  upon  the  parent's  influence  in  all 
 subjects;  even  those  in  which  he  himself 
 may  be  sincere  and  convinced.  Foley. 
 
 PARENTS— Influence  of. 
 
 Stronger  far  than  education — going  on 
 before  education  can  commence,  possibly 
 from  the  very  first  moments  of  conscious- 
 ness, we  begin  to  impress  ourselves  on  our 
 children.  Our  character,  voice,  features, 
 qualities — modified,  no  doubt,  by  entering 
 into  a  new  being,  and  into  a  different  or- 
 ganization— are  impressed  upon  our  child- 
 ren. Not  the  inculcation  of  opinions,  but 
 much  rather  the  formation  of  principles, 
 and  of  the  tone  of  character,  the  deriva- 
 tion of  qualities.  Physiologists  tell  us  of 
 the  derivation  of  the  mental  qualities  from 
 the  father,  and  of  the  moral  jrom  the 
 mother.  But,  be  this  as  it  may,  there  is 
 scarcely  one  here  who  cannot  trace  back 
 his  present  religious  character  to  some  im- 
 pression, in  early  life,  from  one  or  other  of 
 his  parents— a  tone,  a  look,  a  word,  a  habit, 
 or  even,  it  may  be,  a  bitter,  miserable  ex- 
 clamation of  remorse.        F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 PARENTS— Responsibility  of. 
 
 Plato,  seeing  a  child  do  mischief  in  the 
 streets,  went  forth  and  corrected  his  father 
 for  it :  that  father  which  does  not  correct 
 his  child  when  he  does  amiss,  is  justly  cor- 
 rected for  his  faults ;  and  it  is  the  pattern 
 of  God's  judicial  proceedings ;  as  He  visits 
 the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the  child- 
 
 ren who'  imitate  them  ;  so  He  visits  the 
 iniqxiities  of  the  children  upcm  the  fathers 
 who  countenance  and  indulge  them.  Jacob 
 was  accountable  to  Laban'  for  the  whole 
 flock  ;  not  a  sheep  or  a  lamb  was  lost  or 
 torn,  but  it  was  required  at  his  hands  (Gen. 
 xxxi,  39).  Thus  must  family  governors  be 
 accountable  to  God  for  every  lamb  in  the 
 field,  for  every  child  in  the  family,. for  every 
 servant  in  the  house.  God  will,  one  day, 
 cry  aloud  in  thine  ears,  husband,  father, 
 master,  wife,  give  an  account  of  thy  hus- 
 bandship,  give  an  account  of  thy  fathership, 
 give  an  account  of  thy  mastership.  This 
 made  Joshua  undertake  for  his  house  as 
 well  as  for  himself  (Jos.  xxiv,  15).  And 
 this  made  David  careful  of  his  house  as 
 well  as  his  heart,  "  I  will  walk  within  my 
 house  with  a  perfect  heart "  (Ps.  ci,  2). 
 
 Kitchen. 
 
 What  if  God  should  place  in  your  hand 
 a  diamond,  and  tell  you  to  inscribe  on  it  a 
 sentence,  which  should  be  read  at  the  last 
 day,  and  shown  there  as  an  index  of  your 
 own  thoughts  and  feelings?  What  care, 
 what  caution  would  you  exercise  in  the 
 selection.  Now,  this  is  what  God  has  done. 
 He  has  placed  before  you  the  immortal 
 minds  of  your  children,  more  imperishable 
 than  the  diamond,  on  which  you  are  about 
 to  inscribe  every  day  and  every  hour,  by 
 your  instructions,  by  your  spirit,  or  by 
 your  example,  something  which  will  re- 
 main, and  be  exhibited  for  or  against  you 
 at  the  judgment  day.  Dr.  Fayson. 
 
 PARENTS— Ties  of. 
 
 How  many  hopes  and  fears,  how  many 
 ardent  wishes,  how  many  anxious  appre- 
 hensions, are  twisted  together  in  the 
 threads  that  connect  the  parent  with  the 
 child  r 
 
 "  Thou  seest  the  braided  roots  that  bind 
 Yon  towering  cedar  to  the  rock  ; 
 Thou  seest  the  clinging  ivy  twined, 
 As  if  to  spurn  the  whirlwind's  shock ; — 
 
 Poor  emblems  of  the  strings  that  tie 
 His  oft'spring  to  a  parent's  heart ; 
 
 For  those  will,  mouldering,  yield  and  die. 
 But  these  can  never,  never  part." 
 
 S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 PARTY  SPIRIT— Credulity  of  a. 
 
 Of  all  kinds  of  credulity,  the  most  obsti- 
 nate is  that  of  party  spirit ;  of  men,  who, 
 being  numbered,  they  know  not  why,  in 
 any  party,  resign  the  use  of  their  own  eyes 
 and  ears ;  and  resolve  to  believe  nothing 
 that  does  not  favour  those  whom  they  pro- 
 fess to  follow.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 PARTY  SPIRIT— Definition  of. 
 
 It  is  the  opposite  to  candour,  and  con- 
 sists  in  carrying  on  any  opposition  iu  an 
 
6  IS 
 
 PARTY  SPIRIT— PASSIONS. 
 
 angry  fiery  disposition,  chiefly  for  the  sahe 
 of  victory.  Scruggs. 
 
 PARTY  SPIRIT— Evils  of  a. 
 
 A  pnrty  spirit  is  that  disposition  which 
 envenoms  and  contracts  so  many  hearts, 
 separates  so  many  families,  divides  so  many 
 societies,  and  undermines  real  religion  ; 
 party  spirit  not  only  incapacitates  for 
 sweet  communion  with  God,  but  by  en- 
 couraijing  pride,  and  many  evil  passions, 
 it  frequently  excites  to  malice  and  bar- 
 barity, and  the  most  bitter  persecutions. 
 
 Saurin. 
 PARTY  SPIRIT— Obstinacy  of  a. 
 
 He  knows  very  little  of  mankind  who 
 expects,  by  any  facts  or  reasoning,  to  con- 
 Adnce  a  determined  party-man.       Lavater. 
 
 PASSION— Headstrong. 
 
 When  headstrong  passion  gets  the  reins  of 
 
 reason. 
 The  force  of  nature,  like  too  strong  a  gale. 
 For  want  of  b^illast,  oversets  the  vessel. 
 
 Jliggons. 
 T?ASSION— Raging. 
 
 A  little  fire  is  quickly  trodden  out, 
 A^hich  being  sufi"ered,  rivers  cannot  qnench. 
 Shakespeare. 
 PASSION— Rnling. 
 
 The  importance  and  necessity  of  a  ruling 
 passion — i.  e.  some  grand  object,  the  view 
 of  which  kindles  all  the  ardour  the  soul  is 
 capable  of,  to  attain  or  accomplish  it — 
 possibility  of  creating  a  ruling  passion 
 asserted. 
 
 Necessity  of  pursuing  some  grand  pur- 
 pose of  existence  as  a  sportsman  does  a 
 fox— at  all  hazards,  over  hill  and  dale  and 
 brook  ;  through  wood  and  brake,  and  every- 
 thing and  everywhere,  unless  it  go  into  the 
 earth,  or  into  the  clouds  ;  and  here,  too, 
 our  moral  chase  shall  follow ;  for  the  hody 
 shall  enter  the  dust — the  soul  ascend  ! 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 PASSION— (Ruling)— Danger  of. 
 
 I  have  the  highest  opinion  of  the  value 
 of  a  ruling  passio7i ;  but  if  this  passion 
 monopolises  all  the  man,  it  requires  that 
 the  object  be  a  very  comprehensive  or  a 
 very  dignified  one,  to  save  him  from  being 
 ridiculous.  The  devoted  antiquary,  for  in- 
 stance, who  is  passionately  in  love  with  an 
 old  coin,  an  old  button,  or  an  old  nail,  is 
 ridiculous.  The  man  who  is  nothing  hut 
 a  musician,  and  recognises  nothing  in  the 
 whi)le  creation  but  crotchets  and  quavers, 
 is  ridiculous.  So  is  the  nothing  bni  verbal 
 critic,  to  whom  the  adjustment  of  a  few 
 insignificant  particles  in  some  ancient 
 author,  appears  a  more  important  study 
 than  the  grandest  arrangements  of  politics 
 or  morals.  Even  the  total  devotee  to  the 
 grand  science  Astronomy,  incurs  the  same 
 
 misfortune.  Keligion  and  morals  have  a 
 noble  pre-eminence  here  j  no  man  can  be- 
 come ridiculous  by  his  passionate  devotion 
 to  them;  even  a  specific  direction  of  this 
 passion  will  make  a  man  sublime,  witness 
 Howard ;  specific  I  say,  and  correctly, 
 though,  at  the  same  time,  any  large  plan 
 of  benevolence  must  be  comprehensive,  so 
 to  speak,  of  a  large  quantity  of  morals. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 PASSION— Terrihleness  of. 
 
 How  terrible  is  passion !  how  our  reason 
 Falls  down  before  it,  while  the  tortur'd 
 
 frame. 
 Like  a  ship  dash'd  by  fierce  encountering 
 
 tides. 
 And  of  her  pilot  spoil'd,  drives  round  and 
 
 round. 
 The  sport  of  wind  and  wave.         Barford. 
 
 PASSIONS— Conqnest  of  the. 
 
 Consider  daily  the  passions  which  are 
 bred  in  your  heart,  as  a  fisherman  beholds 
 the  fishes  swimming  in  the  water,  on  pur- 
 pose to  catch  them.  Look  on  that  which 
 is  most  predominant  within  you,  from  what 
 root  it  springeth,  when  it  began,  what  pro- 
 gress it  hath  made,  what  rule  it  usurpeth 
 ordinarily  over  your  soul,  what  efi'ects  it 
 produceth,  whether  it  be  more  spiritual  or 
 temporal,  what  things  use  to  foment  it ; 
 provide  counsels  and  means  to  root  it  out ; 
 ])roceed  to  this  with  courage  and  fervour, 
 as  to  the  requisition  of  an  incomparable 
 good.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 PASSIONS— Description  of  the. 
 
 We  use  the  term  passions  in  its  most 
 comprehensive  sense,-  as  including  all  the 
 emotions,  whether  good  or  evil.  To  regu- 
 late the  good  and  to  extirpate  the  evil  is 
 imperative  on  all.  Many  of  the  passions 
 may  be  summed  up  in  these  two — love  and 
 hatred.  Love  is  the  happy  passion,  and 
 contributes  hirgely  to  the  sum  of  human 
 bliss.  Desire,  hope,  joy,  are  only  develop- 
 ments or  modifications  of  love.  Desire, 
 which  must  be  ranked  among  the  passions, 
 is  nothing  more  than  love  going  out  after 
 its  object.  The  only  difference  between 
 love  and  desire  is  that  which  exists  between 
 a  man  when  he  is  sitting  and  when  he  is 
 walking.  He  is  the  same  identical  per- 
 sonage, only  in  a  difi'erent  j)0sture.  De.-ire 
 is  nothing  more  tl:an  love  travelling  to- 
 wards the  object  of  aifection.  Hope,  again, 
 is  another  modification  of  love.  The  dif- 
 ference between  liope  and  love  is  simple 
 that  which  exists  between  the  man  wli .11 
 in  his  habitation,  and  the  same  man  when 
 on  his  watch-tower.  Ho])e  is  nothing  more 
 than  love  on  her  watch-tower,  casting  a 
 long  glance  onward,  and  anticipating  the 
 realization  of  its  desire.  Joy  is  another 
 i  moditication  of  love.     It  is  love  rejoicing 
 
PASSIONS— PAST,  PRESENT,  FUTURE. 
 
 649 
 
 in  the  posf?essioii  of  the  object.  Hatred  is 
 a  passion  that  stands  opposed  to  love,  and 
 develops  itself  in  anger,  retaliation,  envy, 
 revenge,  and  lust  of  povv'er.       R.  Roberts. 
 
 PASSIONS— Expressions  of  the. 
 
 Every  sentiment  of  the  mind  has  par- 
 ticular parts  of  the  body  in  correspondence 
 with  it,  and  affected  by  it.  Hatred,  scorn, 
 love,  suspicion,  confidence,  admiration,  and 
 every  other  passion  of  the  mind  have  par- 
 ticular muscles  in  sympathy  with  them, 
 and  affect  the  features  in  a  particular 
 manner;  so  that  in  remote  villages, and  in 
 those  countries  where  the  emotions  of  the 
 heart  are  not  attempted  to  be  concealed  or 
 disguised,  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  know  the 
 state  of  men's  minds  by  looking  in  their 
 faces.  But  in  more  artificial  societies,  in 
 great  cities,  and  in  courts,  where  many 
 are  struggling  for  the  same  object,  where 
 there  is  an  everlasting  jarring  of  interest, 
 where  men  are  anxious  to  conceal  their 
 designs  and  their  wishes,  and  dare  not 
 avow  the  real  motives  of  their  actions,  it 
 is  difficult  to  judge  of  the  feelings  of  the 
 heart  by  what  appears  in  the  countenance  ; 
 yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  affectation  and 
 disguise,  men  of  experience  and  pene- 
 tration will  often  see  real  joy  through 
 artificial  tears,  genuine  sadness  in  assumed 
 gaiety,  and  inveterate  hatred  lurking  under 
 all  the  officious  smiling  display  of  kind- 
 ness. Art  cannot  long  carry  on  a  suc- 
 cessful war  with  nature;  men  cannot  he 
 on  their  guard,  or  keep  their  features  in 
 everlasting  constraint;  the  genuine  passion 
 will  occasionally  show  itself  in  the  counte- 
 nance, by  the  sympathising  muscles ;  the 
 hypocrite  is  at  that  instant  detected,  and 
 all  his  future  grimaces  are  in  vain. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Moore. 
 PASSIONS— Opposition  to. 
 
 All  passions  are  like  rapid  torrents ; 
 they  swell  the  more  for  meeting  with  a 
 dam  in  their  violence.  He  that  will  hear 
 nothing  in  the  rage  of  anger,  will,  after  a 
 pause,  inquire  of  you.  Seem  you  to  for- 
 get him  and  he  will  the  sooner  remember 
 himself  It  sometimes  falls  out  that  the 
 end  of  passion  is  the  beginning  of  reason. 
 
 J.  lieaumont. 
 PASSIONS— Power  of  the. 
 
 Napoleon,  beneath  whose  leaden  foot- 
 tread  whole  continents  trembled,  was  con- 
 quered by  his  passions.  Wellington,  Eng- 
 land's iron  duke,  was  not  his  only  master. 
 Alexander  the  Great,  with  his  march  of 
 triumphs  over  the  nations,  was  often  almost 
 martyred  by  fits  of  demon  passion.  Samson, 
 the  great  victor  of  the  Philistines,  became 
 the  helpless  victim  of  his  own  base  lust. 
 Hercules,  boasting  of  his  strength,  is  said 
 to  have  sought  highway  robbers  to  combat 
 with,  and  to  have  challenged  monsters  to 
 
 battle,  that  he  might  show  how  easily 
 he  could  vanquish  them.  But  impurity 
 thoroiighly  mastered  him. 
 
 R.  Roberts. 
 
 PASSIONS— Tyranny  of  the. 
 
 We  say  of  a  man  who  has  no  will- 
 mastery,  "  He  is  ruled  by  his  passions ;" 
 they  govern  him,  not  he  them.  Centaries 
 ago  an  Arab  wrote :  "  Passion  is  a  tyrant 
 which  slays  those  whom  it  governs."  It 
 is  like  fire,  which  once  thoroughly  kindled, 
 can  scarcely  be  quenched ;  or  like  the 
 torrent,  which,  when  it  is  swollen,  can  no 
 longer  be  restrained  with  its  banks.  Call 
 not  him  a  prisoner  who  has  been  put  in 
 fetters  by  his  enemy,  but  rather  him  whose 
 own  passions  overpower  him  to  destruction. 
 Joseph  Johnson. 
 
 PASSIONS  IN  TPE  SOUL. 
 
 Sometimes  in  our  latitudes  vapours 
 rising  from  the  ground,  and  hanging  in 
 the  atmosphere,  change  the  white  bright- 
 ness of  the  sun  into  a  jaundiced  yellow  or 
 a  fiery  red.  A  shade  that  seems  to  take 
 the  mirth  out  of  both  man  and  beast  then 
 lies  upon  the  world.  Thus  passions, 
 issuing  like  mist  fi"om  the  soul  itself, 
 darken  the  face  of  God,  hiding  His  tender- 
 ness, and  permitting  only  anger  to  glance 
 through.  Aniot. 
 
 PAST,  PRESENT,  FUTURE. 
 
 The  past,  in  truth,  still  lives  to  us,  and, 
 connected  by  the  slight  ligament  of  the 
 present  moment,  is  all  that  really  does. 
 The  future  does  not  live  as  yet.  The  past 
 is  the  region,  properly  speaking,  of  fact, — 
 pleasing  or  painful,  of  aspect  benign  or 
 frowning,  chiefiy  as  we  ourselves  have 
 made  it ;  over  it,  imagination  has  little 
 power.  As  to  the  future,  we  live  only 
 in  imagination, — "that  forward  delusive 
 faculty,"  as  Butler  calls  it,  "ever  obtrud- 
 ing beyond  its  sphere," — and  the  coun- 
 terpart of  that  future  will  never  live 
 in  reality :  it  is,  in  truth,  as  much  a 
 land  of  shadows  as  any  other  in  the 
 realms  of  that  great  enchaiiter.  And  even 
 if  we  prefer  to  gaze  on  the  unknown  future 
 rather  than  on  the  familiar  past ;  if  its 
 very  mask  piques  our  curiosity,  and  leads 
 us  to  speculate  on  what  is  behind  it,  it  may 
 yet  be  naturally  expected  (instead  of  our 
 being  wholly  taken  up  with  greeting  a 
 new  acquaintance  of  whom  we  at  present 
 know  nothing),  that  we  should  at  least 
 dwell  with  pensive  and  grateful  retrospect 
 on  the  many  blessings  the  Old  Year  has 
 brought  us,  if  we  have  been  happy  in  it; 
 or  if  we  have  had  our  trials  and  sorrows, 
 that  we  have  been  brought  safely  through 
 them,  and  that  at  least  so  much  of  the 
 more  toilsome,  hazardous  parts  of  life's 
 pilgrimage  will  have  to  be  traced  no  more ; 
 
650 
 
 PASTOR— PATIENCE. 
 
 or  if  we  have  fallen  Into  grievous  errors, 
 that  we  should  take  that  happy  moment 
 for  penitently  confessing  them,  thanking 
 God  that  they  have  not  been  our  ruin,  and 
 resolving  to  walk  more  warily  for  the  time 
 to  come  ;  in  a  word,  that  we  shoidd  let  the 
 present  be  the  meeting-place  of  the  past 
 and  the  future,  and  allow  the  lessons  of 
 severe  experience  to  chastise  and  instruct 
 the  anticipations  of  what  is  to  come. 
 
 S.  Rogers. 
 PASTOR— Consistent. 
 
 The  proud  he  tam'd,  the  penitent  he  cheer'd, 
 Nor  to  rebuke  the  rich  offender  fear'd  ; 
 His  preaching  much,  but  more  his  practice 
 
 wrought 
 A  living  sermon  of  the  truths  he  taught. 
 Dryden. 
 
 I  venerate  the  man  whose  heart  is  warm. 
 Whose    hands  are  pure,  whose  doctrines, 
 
 and  whose  life 
 Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof 
 That  he  is  honest  in  the  sacred  cause. 
 
 C^ivper. 
 PASTOE— Inconsistent. 
 
 Do  not  as  some  ungracious  pastors  do, 
 Sliow   me   the   steep  and  thorny  way  to 
 
 heaven, 
 Whil'st  like  a  puff'd  and  reckless  libertine. 
 Himself  the   primrose   path  of  dalliance 
 
 treads 
 And  recks  not  his  own  road.    Shakespeare. 
 
 PATIENCE— Angel  of. 
 
 Angel  of  Patience  !  sent  to  calm 
 Our  feverish  brows  with  cooling  palm; 
 To  lay  the  storms  of  hope  and  fear. 
 And  reconcile  life's  smile  and  tear; 
 The  throbs  of  wounded  pride  to  still, 
 And  make  our  own  our  Father's  will. 
 Oh !  thou  who  mournest  on  thy  way. 
 With  longings  for  the  close  of  day ; 
 He  walks  with  thee,  that  angel  kind. 
 And  gently  whispers,  "  lie  resigned : 
 Bear  up,  bear  on,  the  end  shall  tell 
 The  dear  Lord  ordereth  all  things  well." 
 J.  G.  Whittier. 
 
 PATIENCE— Characteristics  of. 
 
 *Tis  patience,  the  beloved  of  heaven  !  the 
 
 meek, 
 The  mild,  the  lowly,  and  the  gentle  patience, 
 Whose  eye  looks  up  to  God ;  and  ne'er  un- 
 bends 
 Its  fixed  and  placid  gaze  to  look  upon 
 The  thorns  that  tear  her  bleeding  breast : 
 who  stands  [life  ; 
 
 Pale,  calm,  unmoved  amid  the  storms  of 
 Whose  soul  weeps  not  for  heart's  torture — 
 
 patience. 
 The  meek-eyed  pilgrim  of  the  earth,  that 
 
 child 
 Of  heaven — perfection's  crown.      Eeddell. 
 
 PATIENCE— Bescription  of. 
 
 Patience  is  the  guardian  of  faith,  the 
 preserver  of  peace,  the  cherisher  of  love, 
 the  teacher  of  humility.  Patience  governs 
 the  flesh,  strengthens  the  spirit,  sweetens 
 the  temper,  stifles  anger,  extinguishes 
 envy,  subdues  pride ;  she  bridles  the 
 tongue,  restrains  the  hand,  tramples  upon 
 temptations,  endures  persecutions,  consum- 
 mates martyrdom.  Patience  produces  unity 
 in  the  church,  loyalty  in  the  state,  har- 
 mony in  families  and  societies ;  she  com- 
 forts the  poor  and  moderates  the  rich  ;  she 
 makes  us  humble  in  prosperity,  cheer- 
 ful in  adversity,  unmoved  by  calumny  and 
 reproach  ;  she  teaches  us  to  forgive  those 
 who  have  injured  us,  and  to  be  the  first 
 in  asking  forgiveness  of  those  whom  we 
 have  inj  ured ;  she  delights  the  faithful, 
 and  invites  the  unbelieving ;  she  adorns 
 the  woman  and  approves  the  man  ;  she  is 
 beautiful  in  either  sex  and  every  age.  Be- 
 hold her  appearance  and  her  attire.  Her 
 countenance  is  calm  and  serene  as  the  face 
 of  heaven  unspotted  by  the  shadow  of  a 
 cloud,  and  no  wrinkle  of  grief  or  anger  is 
 seen  in  her  forehead.  Her  eyes  are  as  the 
 eyes  of  doves  for  meekness,  and  on  her 
 eyebrows  sit  cheerfulness  and  joy.  Her 
 mouth  is  lovely  in  silence  ;  her  complexion 
 and  colour  that  of  innocence  and  security  ; 
 while,  like  the  virgin,  the  daughter  of 
 Sion,  she  shakes  her  head  at  the  adversary, 
 despising  and  laughing  him  to  scorn.  She 
 is  clothed  in  the  robes  of  the  martyrs,  and 
 in  her  hand  she  holds  a  sceptre  in  the  form 
 of  a  cross.  She  rides  not  in  the  whirlwind 
 and  stormy  tempest  of  passion,  but  her 
 throne  is  the  humble  and  contrite  heart, 
 and  her  kingdom  is  the  kingdom  of  peace. 
 Bp.  Rome. 
 PATIENCE— Examples  of. 
 
 By  patience  Job  did  bear  all  the  tor- 
 ments that  the  devil  could  heap  upon  him ; 
 by  patience  Jacob  put  up  with  a  thousand 
 wrongs  from  Laban  and  his  children,  and 
 never  complained  in  one  and  twenty  years 
 before  he  departed;  by  patience  Joseph 
 forgave  his  brethren  when  he  might  have 
 put  them  to  death,  and  gave  them  food 
 when  they  feared  revenge ;  by  patience 
 Christ  suffered  banishment  and  reproaches, 
 and  scourges,  until  He  went  to  His  death, 
 like  a  Lamb  to  the  slaughter. 
 
 Henry  Smith, 
 PATIENCE— Learning. 
 
 There  is  no  such  thing  as  preaching 
 patience  into  people  unless  the  sermon  is 
 so  long  that  they  have  to  practise  it  while 
 they  hear.  No  man  can  learn  patience 
 except  by  going  out  into  the  hurly-burly 
 world,  atid  taking  life  just  as  it  blows. 
 Patience  is  but  lying  to  and  riding  out  the 
 gale.  n..  W.  Beecher^ 
 
PATIENCE— PATIENCE  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 651 
 
 PATIENCE— towards  Men. 
 
 The  following  story  is  contained  in  one 
 of  the  Jews'  books  ; — "  When  Abraham  sat 
 at  his  tent  door,  according  to  his  custom, 
 waiting  to  entertain  strangers,  he  espied 
 an  old  man  stooping  and  leaning  on  his 
 statt",  weary  with  age  and  travel,  coming 
 towards  him,  who  was  a  hundred  years  of 
 age ;  he  received  him  kindly,  washed  his 
 feet,  provided  supper,  and  caused  him  to 
 sit  down ;  but  observing  that  the  old  man 
 ate  and  prayed  not,  nor  begged  for  any 
 blessing  on  his  meat,  asked  him  why  he 
 did  not  worship  the  God  of  heaven  ?  The 
 old  man  told  him  that  he  worshipped  the 
 fire  only,  and  acknowledged  no  other  God. 
 At  whicli  answer  Abraham  grew  sozealously 
 angry  that  he  thrust  the  old  man  out  of 
 his  tent,  and  exposed  him  to  all  the  evils  of 
 the  night  and  an  unguarded  condition. 
 When  the  old  man  was  gone,  God  called 
 to  Abraham,  and  asked  him  where  the 
 stranger  was  ?  He  replied,  "  I  thrust  him 
 away  because  he  did  not  worship  Thee." 
 God  answered  him,  "  I  have  suffered  him 
 these  hundred  years,  though  he  dishonoured 
 me,  and  couldst  not  thou  endure  him  one 
 night,  when  he  gave  thee  no  trouble  ?" 
 Upon  this,  saith  the  story,  Abraham 
 fetched  him  back  again,  and  gave  him 
 hospitable  entertainment  and  wise  instruc- 
 tion. N.  Taylor. 
 
 PATIENCE— Power  of. 
 
 This  power  God  hath  given  to  patience, 
 the  medicinable  virtue,  that  it  should  be 
 like  a  wholesome  herb  in  the  world,  or  a 
 general  physician  for  all  persons  and  all 
 diseases.  Therefore  when  the  angel  had 
 recorded  all  the  troubles  which  should 
 come  in  the  latter  days ;  at  last  he  con- 
 cluded, "  Here  is  the  patience  of  the 
 saints ;"  as  though  patience  should  bear 
 all.  Therefore,  so  many  Scriptures  go  like 
 preachei's  about  the  Bible,  to  exhort  unto 
 patience,  like  a  beacon  which  is  set  up  to 
 cf^U  men  together,  shewing  us,  that  by 
 patience  we  possess  our  souls ;  as  though 
 a  man  without  patience  had  no  rule  of 
 himself;  that  a  man's  luisdom  is  known  by 
 his  patience,  as  though  that  he  which  is 
 not  patient,  cannot  be  wise ;  that  by 
 patience  we  receive  the  promises,  as  though 
 the  promises  did  not  belong  to  us  unless 
 we  had  patience;  that  patience  hreedeth 
 experience,  and  experience  hope,  as  though 
 he  which  wanteth  patience,  had  no  ex- 
 perience of  God,  to  know  the  scope  of  His 
 doings,  nor  any  hope  to  comfort  him  about 
 the  life  to  come.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 PATIENCE— a  Preservative. 
 
 As  the  lid  is  made  to  open  and  shut,  to 
 save  the  eye;  so  patience  is  set  to  keep 
 the  soul,  and  save  the  heart  whole  to  cheer 
 
 the  body  again.  Therefore,  if  you  mark 
 when  you  can  go  by  an  offence  and  take  a 
 little  wrong,  and  suffer  trouble  quietly, 
 you  have  a  kind  of  peace  and  joy  in  your 
 heart,  as  if  you  had  gotten  a  victory;  and 
 the  more  your  patience  is,  still  the  less 
 your  pain  is.  For  as  a  light  burden, 
 borne  at  the  arm's  end,  weigheth  heavier 
 by  much  than  a  burden  of  treble  weight 
 if  it  be  borne  upon  the  shoulders,  which  are 
 made  to  bear ;  so  if  a  man  set  impatience 
 to  bear  a  cross,  which  is  not  tit  to  bear,  it 
 will  grumble  and  murmur,  and  start  and 
 shrink,  and  let  the  burden  fill  upon  his 
 head  ;  like  a  broken  staff  which  promiseth 
 to  help  him  over  the  water,  and  leaveth 
 him  in  the  ditch.  But  if  you  put  it  to 
 patience,  and  set  her  to  bear  it  which  is 
 appointed  to  beai',  she  is  like  the  hearty 
 spies  that  came  from  Canaan,  and  said, 
 "  It  is  nothing  to  overcome  them ;"  so 
 patience  saith,  "  It  is  nothing  to  bear,  it 
 is  nothing  to  fast ;  it  is  nothing  to  watch ; 
 it  is  nothing  to  labour,  it  is  nothing  to  be 
 envied,  it  is  nothing  to  be  backbited,  it  is 
 nothing  to  be  imprisoned ;  '  In  all  these 
 things  we  are  more  than  conquerors.'  " 
 
 Henry  Smith, 
 PATIENCE— in  Trouble. 
 
 As  the  tree  which  Moses  cast  into  the 
 spring  seasoned  the  bitterness  of  the 
 waters,  so  patience,  cast  into  our  troubles, 
 sensoneth  the  bitterness  of  the  cross,  and 
 is  as  it  were  instead  of  an  assistant  unto 
 every  man,  to  overthrow  and  overcome  his 
 troubles,  like  the  armour-bearer  which 
 helped  Jonathan  to  vanquish  his  enemies. 
 She  hath  a  desire  to  draw  such  a  skin  over 
 our  sores  that  shall  make  our  poverty  seem 
 riches,  our  reproaches  seem  honours,  our 
 bondage  seem  liberty,  our  labour  seem 
 rest,  our  sorrow  seem  joy,  our  pain  seem 
 ease,  our  sickness  seem  health,  and  all 
 that  hurt  us,  rejoice  us.  until  we  say  with 
 David,  "Thy  judgments  are  pleasant;" 
 shewing  that  God's  justice  is  as  pleasant 
 to  the  patient,  as  His  mercies  to  others. 
 
 Ibid. 
 PATIENCE— Want  of. 
 
 He  who  wanteth  patience  in  this  world, 
 is  like  a  man  who  standeth  trembling  in  the 
 field  without  his  armour,  because  every  one 
 can  strike  him,  and  he  can  strike  none;  so 
 the  least  push  of  pain,  or  los<,  or  disgrace, 
 doth  trouble  that  man  more  which  hath 
 not  the  skill  to  suffer,  than  twenty  trials 
 can  move  him  which  is  armed  with  patience 
 like  a  golden  shield  in  his  hand,  to  break 
 the  stroke  of  every  cross,  and  save  the 
 heart  though  the  body  suffer:  for  while 
 the  heart  is  whole,  all  is  well. 
 
 Ibid. 
 PATIENCE  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Patience  was  like  a  privy  coat  upon  His 
 soul,  that  when  the  devil  struck  at  Him, 
 
652 
 
 PATIENCE  OP  MAN  AND  WOMAN— PEACE. 
 
 he  was  stricken  himself;  when  death  came 
 to  kill  Him,  he  was  killed  himself;  and  all 
 their  shot  could  not  hurt  Him,  because  of 
 His  preservation  which  He  had  about  Him, 
 like  Samson's  hair  which  saved  him  from 
 all  his  enemies.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 PATIENCE  or  MAN  AND  WOMAN. 
 
 Patience  is  of  two  kinds.  There  is  an 
 active,  and  there  is  a  passive  endurance. 
 The  former  is  a  masculine,  the  latter,  for 
 the  most  part,  a  feminine  virtue.  Female 
 patience  is  exhibited  chiefly  in  fortitude; 
 in  bearing  pain  and  sorrow  meekly  with- 
 out complaining.  In  the  old  Hebrew  life 
 female  endurance  shines  almost  as  brightly 
 as  in  any  life  which  Christianity  itself  can 
 mould.  Hannah  under  the  provocations 
 and  taunts  of  her  rival,  answering  not 
 again  her  husband's  rebuke,  humbly  re- 
 plying to  Eli's  unjust  blame,  is  true  to 
 the  type  of  womanly  endurance.  For  the 
 type  of  man's  endurance  you  may  look  to 
 the  patience  of  the  early  Christians  under 
 persecution.  They  came  away  from  the 
 Sanhedrim  to  endure  and  bear  ;  but  it  was 
 to  bear  as  conquerors  rushing  on  to  vic- 
 tory, preaching  the  truth  with  all  bold- 
 ness, and  defying  the  power  of  the  united 
 world  to  silence  them.  These  two  divers 
 qualities  are  joined  in  One,  and  only  One 
 of  woman  born,  in  perfection.  One  there 
 was  in  whom  human  nature  was  exhibited 
 in  all  its  elements  symmetrically  com- 
 plete. One  in  whom  there  met  all  that 
 was  manliest  and  all  that  was  most 
 womanly.  His  endurance  of  pain  and 
 grief  was  that  of  the  woman  rather  than 
 the  man.  A  tender  spirit  dissolving  into 
 tears,  meeting  the  dark  hour,  not  with  the 
 stern  defiance  of  the  man  and  the  stoic, 
 but  with  gentleness,  and  trust,  and  love, 
 and  shrinking,  like  a  woman.  But  when 
 it  comes  to  the  question  in  Pilate's  judg- 
 ment-hall, or  the  mockeries  of  Herod's 
 men  of  war,  or  the  discussion  with  the 
 Pharisees,  or  the  exposure  of  the  hollow 
 falsehoods  by  which  social,  domestic,  and 
 religious  life  were  snapped,  the  woman 
 has  disappeared,  and  the  hardy  resolution 
 of  the  man,  with  more  than  manly  daring 
 is  found  in  her  stead.  This  is  the  patience 
 for  us  to  cultivate :  To  bear  and  to  per- 
 severe. F.  W.  Eoherison. 
 
 PATRIOTISM  -Universal. 
 
 Patriotism,  or  love  of  country,  is  a  sen- 
 timent which  pervades  almost  every  human 
 breast,  and  induces  each  individual  to  pre- 
 fer the  land  of  his  bii-th,  not  because  it  is 
 better  than  another  country,  but  merely 
 because  it  is  his  country.  This  sentiment 
 may  be  illustrated  by  a  variety  of  anecdotes. 
 Many  of  the  Swiss,  on  account  of  the 
 poverty  of  their  country,  are  induced  to 
 seek  military  service  in  foreign  lands.  Yet, 
 
 in  their  voluntary  exile,  so  strong  is  their 
 affection  for  their  native  hills,  that  whole 
 regiments  have  been  said  to  be  on  the 
 point  of  desertion,  in  consequence  of  the 
 vivid  recollections  excited  by  one  of  their 
 national  songs. 
 
 A  French  writer  informs  us  that  a  native 
 of  one  of  the  Asiatic  Isles,  amid  the  splen- 
 dours of  Paris,  beholding  a  banana  tree  in 
 the  Garden  of  Plants,  bathed  it  with  tears, 
 and  seemed  for  a  moment  to  be  trans- 
 ported to  his  own  land.  The  Ethiopia^ 
 imagines  that  God  made  his  sands  and 
 deserts,  while  angels  only  were  employed 
 in  forming  the  rest  of  the  world.  The 
 Maltese,  insulated  on  a  rock,  distinguish 
 their  island  by  the  appellation  of  "  The 
 Flower  of  the  World."  The  Javanese  h»vC 
 such  an  affection  for  the  place  of  their 
 nativity,  that  no  advantages  can  induce 
 them,  particularly  the  agricultual  tribes, 
 to  quit  the  tombs  of  their  fathers.  The 
 Norwegians,  proud  of  their  barren  summits, 
 inscribe  upon  their  rix  dollars,  "  Spirit, 
 loyalty,  valour,  and  whatever  is  honorable, 
 let  the  world  learn  among  the  rocks  of 
 Norway."  The  Esquimaux  are  no  less 
 attached  to  their  frigid  zone,  esteeming 
 the  luxuries  of  blubber-oil  for  food,  and  an 
 ice  cabin  for  habitation,  above  all  the  re- 
 finements of  other  countries. 
 
 Such  are  some  of  the  exhibitions  of  this 
 universal  sentiment  in  less  refined  nations. 
 In  a  state  of  higher  civilization,  it  becomes 
 a  more  exalted  passion,  and  is  thus  beauti- 
 fully expressed  by  Scott : 
 
 "  Breathes  there  the  man  with  soul  so  dead 
 Who  never  to  himself  hath  said. 
 
 This  is  my  own  my  native  land  ! 
 Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned. 
 As  home  his  footsteps  he  hatli  turned. 
 
 From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand  ? 
 If  such  there  be,  go,  mark  him  well ; 
 For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell ;. 
 High  though  his  titles,  proud  his  name. 
 Boundless  his  wealth,  as  wish  can  claim ; 
 Despite  those  titles,  power  and  pelf. 
 The  wretch  concentred  all  in  self. 
 Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown. 
 And,  doubly  dying  shall  go  down 
 To  the  vile  dust,  from  whence  he  sprung, 
 Unwept,  unhonoured,  and  unsung." 
 
 S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 PEACE— Antecedents  of. 
 
 We  find  the  jailor  trembling,  before  we 
 find  him  rejoicing.  There  were  mighty 
 and  rending  winds,  earthquakes,  and  fire, 
 all  terrible  ;  before  there  came  the  still 
 small  voice  in  which  God  was  (1  Kings 
 xix,  12)  ;  so  God,  in  convictions,  many 
 times  prepares  the  way  by  thunders  and 
 earthquakes,  by  the  thundering  of  His 
 word  and  the  trembling  of  our  own  con- 
 sciences, before  He  comes  to  us  in  the  still 
 and  sweet  voice  of  peace  and   comfort. 
 
PEACE. 
 
 *    633 
 
 And,  certainly,  they  are  much  more  afraid 
 than  hurt,  whom  God  by  Hia  terrors  thus 
 frights  into  heaven.  Bp.  Sopkins. 
 
 PEACE— Christian. 
 
 Christian  peace,  the  peace  which  Christ 
 gives,  the  peace  which  He  sheds  abroad  in 
 the  heart,  is  it  ought  else  than  such  a 
 glorified  harmony  —  the  expelling  from 
 man's  life  of  all  that  was  causing  dis- 
 turbance there,  all  that  was  hindering  him 
 from  chiming  in  with  the  mnsic  of  heaven, 
 >11  that  would  have  made  him  a  jarring 
 >»nd  a  dissonant  note,  left  out  from  the 
 great  dance  and  minstrelsy  of  the  spheres, 
 in  which  now  shall  mingle  for  ever  the 
 consenting  songs  of  redeemed  men  and 
 elect  aagels  ?  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 PEACE— Deep. 
 
 When  you  look  at  the  believer's  busy 
 life,  you  may  see  no  trace  of  his  peace  of 
 soul.  But  you  know  that  ocean,  under 
 the  hurricane,  is  lashed  into  those  huge 
 waves  and  that  wild  foam  only  on  the  sur- 
 face. Not  very  far  down,  the  waters  are 
 still  as  an  autumn  noon ;  there  is  not  a 
 ripple,  or  breath,  or  motion.  And  so,  if 
 we  had  the  faith  we  ought,  though  there 
 might  be  ruffle  upon  the  surface  of  our 
 lot,  we  should  have  the  inward  peace  of 
 perfect  faith  in  God,  Amid  the  dreary 
 noises  of  this  world ;  amid  its  cares  and 
 tears ;  amid  its  hot  contentions,  ambitions, 
 and  disappointments ;  we  should,  have  an 
 iniier  calm  like  the  serene  ocean  depths, 
 to  which  the  influence  of  the  wild  winds 
 and  waves  above  can  never  come !  f   Anon. 
 
 PEACE— Delinition  of. 
 
 Peace  is  the  opposite  of  passion,  and  of 
 labour,  toil,  and  etibrt.  Peace  is  that  state 
 in  which  there  are  no  desires  madly  de- 
 manding an  impossible  gratification ;  that 
 state  in  which  there  is  no  misery,  no  re- 
 morse, no  sting.  F.  W.  Rolertson. 
 
 PEACE— the  Effect  of  Faith. 
 
 "  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make 
 haste."  The  metaphor  here  is  taken  from 
 the  circumstances  of  a  person  overcome  by 
 sudden  alai-m  or  fright.  He  has  not  calm- 
 ness and  self-possession  enough  to  look 
 about  him — he  takes  the  wrong  step,  be- 
 cause all  is  alarm,  and  confusion,  and  hurry 
 within.  "  He  that  believeth,"  then,  "  shall 
 not  make  haste  " — shall  not  be  alarmed — 
 shall  not  be  thrown  into  confusion  and 
 dismay ;  he  shall  possess  his  soul  in  peace. 
 Dr.  Beaumont. 
 PEACE— Heart  fiUed  with. 
 
 Go  to  the  margin  of  some  transparent 
 lake,  whose  placid  bosom  reflects  all  the 
 beauty  and  loveliness  of  surrounding 
 nature ;   for  there  you  have  the  sweetly 
 
 soft   and   delightful   emblem   of   a    heart 
 filled  with  the  peace  of  God. 
 
 Dr.  R.  Neioton. 
 PEACE— Kinds  of. 
 
 There  are  several  things  called  peace 
 which  are  by  no  means  Divine  or  God-like 
 peace.  There  is  peace,  for  example,  in  the 
 man  who  lives  for  and  enjoys  self,  with  no 
 noble  aspiration  goading  him  on  to  make 
 him  feel  the  rest  of  God  ;  that  is  peace, 
 but  that  is  merely  the  peace  of  toil.  There 
 is  rest  upon  the  surface  of  the  caverned 
 lake,  which  no  wind  can  stir ;  but  that  is 
 the  peace  of  stagnation.  There  is  peace 
 amongst  the  stones  which  have  fallen  and 
 rolled  down  the  mountain's  side,  and  lie 
 there  quietly  at  rest ;  but  that  is  the 
 peace  of  inanity.  There  is  peace  in  the 
 hearts  of  enemies  who  lie  together,  side  by 
 side,  in  the  same  trench  of  the  battle-field, 
 the  animosities  of  their  souls  silenced  at 
 length,  and  their  hands  no  longer  clenched 
 iu  deadly  enmity  against  each  other ;  bub 
 that  is  the  peace  of  death.  If  our  peace 
 be  but  the  "peace  of  the  sensualist  satis- 
 tying  pleasure,  if  it  be  but  the  peace  of 
 mental  toi-por  and  inaction,  the  peace  of 
 apathy,  or  the  peace  of  the  soul  dead  in 
 trespasses  and  sins,  we  may  whisper  to  our 
 souls,  "  Peace,  peace,"  but  there  will  be 
 no  peace;  there  is  not  the  peace  of  unity, 
 nor  the  peace  of  God,  for  the  peace  of  God 
 is  the  living  peace  of  love. 
 
 F.  TV.  Rolertson. 
 
 PEACE  (ISTational) —Effects  of. 
 
 Meanwhile   fair   Peace   secures   the  quiet 
 
 plain, 
 Fair  Peace,  in  whose  auspicious,  easy  reign 
 They  first   instructed   stubborn  steers  to 
 
 bow 
 Their  necks,  to  wear  the  yoke,  and  draw 
 
 the  plough. 
 Peace   glads   the  vines   to  yield   a   large 
 
 produce. 
 And  swells  the  rip'ning  grape  with  kindly 
 
 juice; 
 That  the  pleased  peasant,  from  paternal 
 
 bowl. 
 May  pour  large  floods  of  wine  to  cheer  his 
 
 soul. 
 Peace   plies   the    prong   and    brights   the 
 
 shining  share ; 
 Let  eating  rust  destroy  the  tools  of  war. 
 
 Tibulliis. 
 PEACE  (National)- Love  of. 
 
 Numa  Pompilius,  from  a  love  of  peace 
 and  to  recommend  it,  altered  the  begin- 
 ning of  the  Roman  year.  It  formerly 
 commenced  with  the  month  of  March 
 (which  Romulus  had  appointed  because 
 he  loved  Mars,  the  god  of  war),  but 
 Pompilius  changed  it  to  January,  from 
 Janus,  the  god  of  peace.  Anon. 
 
654 
 
 PEACE— PEACE  WITH  GOD. 
 
 PEACE— Nature  of. 
 
 Peace  is  love  reposing.  It  is  love  on 
 the  green  pastures,  it  is  love  beside  the 
 still  waters.  It  is  that  great  calm  which 
 comes  over  the  conscience,  when  it  sees 
 tlie  atonement  sufficient,  and  the  Saviour 
 willing.  It  is  unclouded  azure  in  a  lake 
 of  glass;  it  is  the  soul  which  Christ  has 
 pacified,  spread  out  in  serenity  and  simple 
 faith,  and  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and 
 gracious,  smiling  over  it. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 It  is  the  still  music  of  the  soul.  It  is 
 the  calm  sunset  of  a  summer's  sabbath.  It 
 is  the  olive  branch  —  sign  of  judgment 
 abating.  It  is  Jerusalem,  i.e.  the  vision 
 of  peace.  It  is  Melchizedec,  king  of 
 righteousness,  king  of  peace.  G.  S.  Howes. 
 
 Peace  is  like  a  beautiful  city  at  rest, 
 calmly  sleeping  upon  the  waters.        Anon. 
 
 PEACE— as  a  River. 
 
 Peace  may  be  compared  to  a  river — 
 
 1.  In  its  origin — small,  joyous,  spark- 
 ling, vigorous,  rapid. 
 
 2.  In  its  progress — widening  and  deep- 
 ening from  the  "ankles"  to  the  "knees," 
 from  the  knees  to  the  "  loins,"  from  the 
 loins  to  "  waters  to  swim  in,  a  river  that 
 cannot  be  passed  over,"  —  receiving  new 
 tributaries  on  the  right  and  left,  from  the 
 means  of  grace,  as  they  are  supi^lied  with 
 the  dew  of  heaven  and  showers  of  bless- 
 ings— sweeping  away  as  it  rolls  on  in  its 
 strength,  the  obstacles  of  unsanctified  affec- 
 tions and  unconquered  lusts. 
 
 3.  In  its  influence — holy,  healthy,  gene- 
 rating, serviceable  to  society,  spreading  on 
 either  side  verdure  and  fruitfulness. 
 
 4.  In  its  changes — varying  in  its  depths, 
 currents,  course,  tributaries,  associations, 
 &c. 
 
 5.  In  its  termination — rolling  into  and 
 mingling  with  the  shoreless,  blessed  sea  of 
 perfect  peace  in  heaven,  where  undulating 
 waves  never  roll  in  strife  or  break  in  death. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 PEACE— Roots  and  Fruits  of. 
 
 The  tree  of  peace  strikes  its  roots  into 
 the  crevices  of  the  everlasting  Rock ;  it 
 grows  securely  from  that  Rock,  and  casts 
 out  its  cool  shadow  in  the  sunshine,  and 
 makes  sweet  music  in  the  storm,  and  is  to 
 the  believer  as  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock 
 and  fruit  of  refreshment  in  a  weary  and 
 parched  land.  Dr.  Cumming, 
 
 PEACE- Seeking. 
 
 Peace  may  be  sought  two  ways.  One 
 ■way  is  as  Gideon  sought  it,  when  he  built 
 his  altar  in  Ophrah,  naming  it  "  God  send 
 peace,"  yet  sought  this  peace  that  he  loved 
 as  he  was  ordered  to  seek  it,  and  the  peace 
 
 was  sent,  in  God's  way : — "  The  country 
 was  in  quietness  forty  years  in  the  days  of 
 Gideon."  And  the  other  way  of  seeking 
 peace  is  as  Menahem  sought  it,  when  he 
 gave  the  king  of  Assyria  a  thousand  talents 
 of  silver,  that  "  his  hand  might  be  with 
 him."  That  is,  you  may  either  win  your 
 peace  or  buy  it — win  it,  by  resistance  to 
 evil  ;  buy  it  by  compromise  with  evil. 
 You  may  buy  your  peace,  with  silenced 
 consciences;  you  may  buy  it  with  broken 
 vows ;  buy  it  with  lying  words ;  buy  it 
 with  base  connivances  ;  buy  it  with  the 
 blood  of  the  slain,  and  the  cry  of  the 
 captive,  and  the  silence  of  lost  souls. 
 
 Ruskin. 
 PEACE— Sin  Prevents. 
 
 When  the  sun  is  half  hidden,  and  the 
 rays  that  do  penetrate  are  of  a  livid,  lurid 
 hae,  we  know  well,  we  know  all,  that  there 
 is  nothing  the  matter  with  the  sun — that 
 the  sole  reason  of  the  dimness  and  dread 
 is  the  vapour  that  springs  from  the  earth, 
 and  hovers  near  its  surface.  If  we  were 
 as  knowing  and  as  true  in  spiritual  as  we 
 are  in  natural  affairs,  we  would  understand, 
 and  confess,  and  feel,  that  when  a  human 
 heart  is  turned  toward  God,  its  own  sin  is 
 the  only  impediment  to  peace.  Arnoi. 
 
 PEACE— in  Trouble. 
 
 A  ship's  compass  is  so  adjusted  as  to 
 keep  its  level  amidst  all  the  heavings  of 
 the  sea.  Though  forming  part  of  a  strue- 
 ture  that  feels  every  motion  of  the  rest- 
 less waves,  it  has  an  arrangement  of  its 
 own  that  keeps  it  always  in  place,  and  in 
 working,  order.  Look  at  it  when  you  will, 
 it  is  pointing — trembling,  perhaps,  but 
 truly — to  the  pole.  So  each  soul  in  this 
 life  needs  an  adjustment  of  its  own,  that 
 amid  the  fluctuations  of  the  "  earthen 
 vessel "  it  may  be  kept  ever  in  a  position 
 to  feel  the  power  of  its  great  attraction  iu 
 the  skies.  Anon. 
 
 PEACE— hy  Victory. 
 
 No  peace  was  ever  won  from  fate  by 
 subterfuge  or  agreement ;  no  peace  is  ever 
 in  store  for  any  of  us,  but  that  which  we 
 shall  win  by  victory  over  shame  or  sin ; 
 victory  over  the  sin  that  oppresses,  as  well 
 as  over  that  which  corrupts.  Ruskin. 
 
 PEACE  AND  WAR— National. 
 
 Peace  makes  plenty,  plenty  makes  pride, 
 pride  breeds  quarrel,  and  quarrel  brings 
 war:  war  brings  spoil,  and  spoil  poverty; 
 poverty  patience,  and  patience  peace.  So 
 peace  brings  war,  and  war  brings  peace. 
 
 Anon. 
 PEACE  WITH  GOD— Knowledge  of. 
 
 To  know  whether  God  be  at  peace  with 
 you,  see  if  you  be  at  peace  with  Him. 
 This  is  the  note  in  the  index;  and  if  we 
 
PEACE  WITH  GOD— PENITENCE. 
 
 655 
 
 find  it  there,  we  may  be  sure  to  find  the 
 other  in  the  book.  As  he  that  looked 
 westward  for  the  rising  of  the  sun  saw  it 
 sooner,  gilding  the  tops  of  the  mountains, 
 than  they  that  looked  for  it  in  the  east ; 
 so  this  is  the  best  way  to  see  whether  God 
 be  at  peace  with  us ;  let  us  look  back  upon 
 ourselves,  and  see  our  condition  towards 
 God.  Some  hold  that  the  answer  by  Urim 
 and  Thumniim  was  by  the  rising  of  the 
 stones  in  the  high  priest's  breastplate. 
 Though  I  am  not  of  their  mind,  yet  I 
 may  allude  to  it  in  the  case  in  hand ;  look 
 into  thine  own  breast,  make  thine  obser- 
 vation thence,  see  how  thy  heart  stands 
 aflected  towards  God ;  and  by  that  thou 
 mayest  understand  what  God's  answer  to 
 thy  question  is — viz.,  whether  He  be  at 
 peace  with  thee.  Lightfoot. 
 
 PEACE  WITH  GOD— Peace  of  Conscience 
 not. 
 Inward  peace  in  the  conscience  doth  not 
 infer  having  peace  with  God.  By  "  Inward 
 peace  in  the  conscience"  we  mean  the  oppo- 
 site to  pangs,  troubles,  storms  of  conscience. 
 And  this  peace  is  the  common  temper  of 
 the  most  consciences  in  the  world  ;  they 
 have  no  disquiet  at  all.  They  say,  "  peace, 
 peace,"  when  there  is  no  peace.  Ibid. 
 
 As  by  certain  means  which  are  used  men 
 make  harbours  and  enclose  therein  a  body 
 of  water  which  is  calm,  and  keeps  ships  in 
 quiet  while  the  seas  without  and  beyond 
 are  raging  in  fury;  so  the  sinner,  by  a 
 course  of  means  which  he  adopts,  some- 
 times barricades  his  soul,  by  which  he 
 brings  about  a  false  peace  within  his  con- 
 cience;  but  the  elements  of  Divine  justice, 
 the  administrators  of  the  holy  law,  rage 
 and  storm  all  ai-ound  ;  and  before  long  the 
 barriers  shall  be  broken  down,  and  the 
 soul  shall  merge  into  the  ocean  of  wrath, 
 and  conscience  become  a  vessel  tossed  upon 
 its  raging  billows  for  ever  and  ever. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 PEACEMAKERS— Description  of. 
 
 We  may  easily  learn,  in  how  wide  a 
 sense  the  term  peacemakers  is  to  be  under- 
 stood. In  its  literal  meaning  it  implies 
 those  lovers  of  God  and  man,  who  utterly 
 detest  and  abhor  all  strife  and  debate,  all 
 variance  and  contention ;  and  accordingly 
 labour  with  all  their  might,  either  to  pre- 
 vent this  fire  of  hell  from  being  kindled,  or 
 when  it  is  kindled,  from  breaking  out,  or 
 when  it  is  broke  out,  from  spreading  any 
 farther.  They  endeavour  to  calm  the 
 stormy  spirits  of  men,  to  quiet  their  tur- 
 bulent passions,  to  soften  the  minds  of 
 contending  parties,  and,  if  possible,  recon- 
 cile them  to  each  other.  They  use  all 
 innocent  arts,  and  employ  all  their  strength, 
 all  the  talents  which  God  has  given  them, 
 
 as  well  to  preserve  peace,  where  It  is,  as  to 
 restore  it,  where  it  is  not.  It  is  the  joy  of 
 their  heart  to  promote,  to  confirm,  to  in- 
 crease mutual  goodwill  among  men  ;  but 
 more  especially  among  the  children  of  God, 
 however  distinguished  by  things  of  smaller 
 importance;  that  as  they  have  all  "one 
 Lord,  one  faith ; "  as  they  are  all  "  called 
 in  one  hope  of  their  calling,"  so  they  may 
 all  "  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation  where- 
 with they  are  called  ;  with  all  lowliness 
 aTid  meekness,  with  long  suffering,  for- 
 bearing one  another  in  love;  endeavouring 
 to  keep  the  unity  of  tlie  spirit,  in  the  bond 
 of  peace."  J.  Wesley. 
 
 PEDANTRY- Description  of. 
 
 Pedantry  prides  herself  on  being  tvrong 
 by  rules ;  while  common  sense  is  contented 
 to  be  right  without  them.  The  former 
 would  rather  stumble  in  following  the 
 dead,  than  walk  upright  by  the  profane 
 assistance  of  the  living.  She  worships  the 
 mouldering  mummies  of  antiquity,  and  her 
 will  is,  that  they  should  not  be  buried,  but 
 emhalmed.  She  would  have  truth  herself 
 bow  to  the  authority  of  great  names ;  while 
 common  sense  would  have  great  names  bow 
 to  the  authority  of  truth.  Folly  disgusts 
 us  less  by  her  ignorance,  than  pedantry 
 by  her  learning;  since  she  mistakes  the 
 nonage  of  things  for  their  virility ;  and 
 her  creed  is,  that  darkness  is  increased 
 by  the  accession  of  light ;  that  the  world 
 grows  younger  by  age;  and  that  know- 
 ledge and  experience  are  diminished  by  a 
 constant  and  uninterrupted  accumulation. 
 C.  Colton. 
 
 PEN— Power  of  the. 
 
 That  was  a  beautiful  tribute  of  Napoleon 
 to  the  supremacy  of  mind  over  physical 
 force  in  the  long  trial.  "  Do  you  know, 
 Fontanes,"  he  said,  "  what  I  admire  most 
 in  the  world  ?  It  is  the  powerlessness  of 
 force  to  found  anything.  There  are  only 
 two  powers  in  the  world — the  sabre  and 
 the  pen ;  and  in  the  end,  the  former  is 
 always  conquered  by  the  latter."        Anon. 
 
 PENITENCE— Affected. 
 
 "  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners,"  said  the 
 cardinal  to  his  confessor.  "  It  is  too  true," 
 said  the  monk.  "  I  have  been  guilty  of 
 every  kind  of  sin,"  sighed  the  cardinal. 
 "  It  is  a  solemn  fact,  my  son,"  said  the 
 monk.  "  I  have  indulged  in  pride,  am- 
 bition, malice,  and  revenge,"  pursued  his 
 Eminence.  The  provoking  confessor  as- 
 sented without  one  pitying  word  of  doubt 
 or  protest.  "  Why,  you  fool ! "  at  last 
 said  the  exasperated  cardinal,  "  you  don't 
 imagine  I  mean  all  this  to  the  letter  ?  " 
 "  Ho,  ho ! "  said  the  monk,  "  so  you  have 
 been  a  liar  too,  have  you  ?  "       N.  Royers, 
 
656 
 
 PElflTEIfCE— Motive  to. 
 
 Think  of  the  grand  harmony  of  the 
 moral  universe,  all  deranged  by  this  vile 
 discord  of  evil;  think  of  the  disturbing 
 element,  which  has  not  only  smitten  tlie 
 earth  with  a  curse,  and  plunged  its  inhabi- 
 tants under  the  shadow  of  a  terrible  pe- 
 nalty, but  which  dashes  like  an  angry 
 breaker  against  the  tlirone  of  the  Divine, 
 intercepting  God's  complacency  in  the  per- 
 fection of  the  creatures  that  He  has  made  ; 
 think  of  a  taint  so  thorough,  and  a  taint 
 so  general,  that  it  can  be  eradicated  only 
 by  a  new  expedient  of  mercy,  that  it  can 
 be  healed  only  by  an  exhausting  of  the 
 very  fulness  of  heaven ;  think  of  God's 
 outraged  honour  and  violated  law ;  think 
 of  your  own  neglected  opportunity  and 
 forleited  privilege,  and  then  say  if  any 
 sorrow  can  be  too  intense  and  too  absorb- 
 ing, whether  it  moan  in  speechless  agony, 
 or  whether  it  charge  the  head  with  waters, 
 and  turn  the  eyes  into  a  fountain  of  tears. 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 PENITENCE— Phases  of. 
 
 Such  is  the  essential  difference  of  tem- 
 perament and  circumstance  in  the  human 
 family  that  this  sorrow  will  be  varied  of 
 necessity  in  its  development  and  in  its  ex- 
 pressions. The  great  law  of  variety  which 
 G'-id  has  impressed  upon  the  universe  of 
 His  hand  will  be  equally  manifested  here. 
 Just  as  there  are  ditfei-ent  carves  in  smiles 
 that  are  equally  sunny,  and  different  tones 
 in  equally  hearty  laughter,  and  different 
 styles  in  forms  that  strike  us  with  an  equal 
 sense  of  loveliness,  so  wiU  there  be  different 
 symptoms  in  hearts  that  are  equally  pros- 
 trated by  the  contritions  of  penitential 
 sorrow.  It  may  be  that  it  will  be  seen  in 
 the  brow  of  unusual  thoughtfulness,  or  in 
 the  tear  that  has  elur]ed  the  watchers,  but 
 that  is  hastily  pursued  and  brushed  off  as 
 soon  as  its  escape  is  discovered.  In  one 
 case  it  may  abstract  the  man  from  the  con- 
 cerns of  earth  in  dull  indifference,  in  ano- 
 ther it  may  concentrate  every  energy  into 
 intenser  and  more  passioTiate  play;  it  may 
 be  silent  in  its  weeping,  or  unable  to  weep 
 at  all ;  it  may  be  frantic  in  its  cries,  or  it 
 may  be  smitten  with  a  strange  horror  of 
 silence.  It  may  burst  like  a  flood  into  the 
 strong  man's  heart,  and  convulse  his  nature 
 with  its  tides  of  stormful  feeling ;  or  it 
 may  ripple  like  a  rill  into  some  quiet 
 womanly  spirit,  and  subdue,  by  its  gentle 
 influence,  all  her  unbelief  and  pride.  And 
 sometimes  —  for  I  would  not  limit  tlie 
 working  of  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  and  I 
 would  be  far  from  that  profane  blasi)hei!.iy 
 that  would  say,  "  He  casteth  out  devils  by 
 Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  devils" — some- 
 times it  may  swoon  the  life  out  of  a  man, 
 and  it  may  produce  those  strange  and 
 painful    symptoms    at    which    fanaticism 
 
 PENITENCE— PENITENT. 
 
 scoffs,  and  which  sceptical  science  reduces 
 into  a  complex  hysteria.  But,  however 
 diverse  its  duration,  it  will  be  always 
 there ;  wherever  there  is  a  penitent  heart, 
 there  will  be,  there  must  be,  the  feeling 
 of  sorrow  for  sin.  If  the  arrow  is  not 
 sharp  in  the  heart  of  the  king's  enemies, 
 they  do  not  need  eitlier  the  blanching 
 hand  or  the  healing  balm  ;  if  the  heart 
 is  not  broken  in  the  man  he  does  not 
 need  the  gentle  ministry  of  Him  who 
 healetli  the  broken  in  heart  and  bindeth 
 up  their  wounds.  Ibid. 
 
 PENITENT— Desire  of  the. 
 
 A  sick  man  is  not  more  desirous  to  be 
 rid  of  all  his  diseases,  nor  a  prisoner  to  be 
 freed  from  all  his  bolts  and  chains,  than 
 the  true  penitent  is  desirous  to  be  rid  of 
 all  his  sins.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 PENITENT— "Welcome  to  Christ. 
 
 Does  any  one  whose  thoughtless  heart 
 has  hitherto  been  set  upon  the  lust  of  the 
 eye,  the  pomp  of  the  world,  or  the  pride 
 of  life,  begin  now  to  perceive  the  im- 
 portance of  futurity  ?  Does  any  one  whom 
 the  violence  of  passion  hath  carried  into 
 atrocious  crimes,  which  repetition  rendered 
 habitual  and  familiar,  begin  to  perceive 
 his  danger  ?  Would  he  wish  to  escape 
 it,  if  an  escape  were  possible  ?  Let  him, 
 then,  not  be  discouraged  by  any  enormities 
 of  his  preceding  life.  To  become  Christ's 
 disciple,  every  one  who  wishes  is  per- 
 mitted ;  every  one's  past  sins  are  forgiven 
 from  the  moment  that  he  resolves  to  con- 
 form to  the  precepts  and  example  of  his 
 Saviour.  He  who  made  an  open  discovery 
 of  Himself — an  early  proffer  of  salvation 
 to  a  people  who,  though  not  idolators,  had 
 but  imperfectly  known  the  Father,  —  He 
 who,  in  a  conference,  the  occasion  of  which 
 was  evidently  of  His  own  seeking,  revealed 
 Himself  to  a  woman  living  in  impure  con- 
 cubinage with  the  sixth  man  she  had 
 called  her  husband, — He  who  forgave  the 
 sinner  that  perfumed  His  feet,  and  bathed 
 them  with  the  tears  of  i'e23entance, — He 
 who  ab-iolved  the  adulteress  taken  in  the 
 fact, — He  who  called  Saul  the  persecutor 
 to  be  a  pillar  and  an  apostle  of  the  faith 
 he  had  so  cruelly  oppressed,— jSe  who  from 
 the  cross  bore  the  penitent  companion  of 
 His  last  agonies  to  Paradise, — HE  hath 
 said — and  you  have  seen  how  His  actions 
 accorded  with  His  words — He  hath  said, 
 "  Him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no 
 wise  cast  out."  "  Him  that  cometh  to  me 
 in  humility  and  penitence,  I  will  in  no 
 wise  cast  out.  In  no  wise, — in  no  resent- 
 ment of  any  crimes,  not  even  of  blasphemy 
 and  infidelity  previous  to  his  coming,  will 
 I  exclude  him  from  tlie  light  of  my  doc- 
 trine— from  the  benefits  of  my  atonement 
 — from  the  glories  oi  my  kingdom." 
 
 B£.  Horsier/. 
 
PEIIUHY  AND  "WEALTH— PESFEGTION. 
 
 657 
 
 PENirsy  AlID  "WEALTH. 
 
 If  Wealth  come,  beware  of  him,  the 
 smooth  folse  friend;  there  is  treachery  in 
 his  proffered  hand,  his  tono;ue  is  eloquent 
 to  tempt,  lust  of  many  harms  is  lurkins;  in 
 his  eye,  he  hath  a  hollow  heart ;  use  him 
 cautiously. 
 
 If  Penury  assail,  fight  against  him  stoutly, 
 the  gaunt  grim  foe  :  the  curse  of  Cain  is  on 
 his  brow,  toiling  vainly ;  he  creepeth  with 
 the  worm  by  day,  to  raven  with  the  wolf 
 by  night ;  diseases  battle  by  his  side,  and 
 crime  foUoweth  his  footsteps.  Therefore 
 fight  against  him  boldly,  and  be  of  a  good 
 courage,  for  there  are  many.with  thee ;  not 
 alone  the  doled  alms,  the  casual  r.ids  dropt 
 from  compassion,  or  wrung  out  by  impor- 
 tunity— these  be  only  temporary  helps,  and 
 indulgence  in  them  pampers  the  improvi- 
 dent: but  look  thou  to  a  better  host  of 
 strong  allies,  of  resolute  defenders ;  turn 
 again  to  meet  thy  duties,  needy  one ;  no 
 one  ever  starved  who  even  faintly  tried  to 
 do  them.  Tapper. 
 
 PEHFECTIOlir— among  the  Ancients, 
 
 The  last  and  most  excellent  of  the  old 
 lawgivers  and  philosophers  among  the 
 Greeks  had  an  alloy  of  viciousuess,  and 
 could  not  be  exemplary  all  over.  Some 
 were  noted  for  flatterers,  as  Plato  and 
 Ai-istippus;  some  for  incontinency,  as 
 Aristotle,  Epicurus,  Zeno,  Theognis,  Plato 
 and  Aristippus  again ;  and  Socrates,  whom 
 their  Oracle  affirmed  to  be  the  wisest  and 
 most  perfect  man,  yet  was  noted  for  ex- 
 treme inte'.nperance,  both  in  words  and 
 actions.  And  those  Romans  who  were 
 offered  to  them  for  examples,  although 
 they  were  in  reputation,  yet  they  had  also 
 great  vices.  Brutus  dipped  his  hand  in 
 tlie  blood  of  Csii&v  his  pnice,  and  father 
 by  love,  endearments,  and  adoption.  And 
 Ciito.was  but  a  wise  man  all  day,  for  at 
 night  he  was  used  to  drink  too  liberally ; 
 and  both  he  and  Socrates  did  give  their 
 wives  unto  their  friends.  The  philosopher 
 and  the  censor  w^ere  procurers  of  their 
 wives'  unchastity  ;  and  yet  these  were  the 
 best  among  the  Gentiles.  Bp.  Taylor, 
 
 PEEEECTIOIT— of  Christian  Character, 
 
 There  are  things  precious,  not  from  the 
 materials  of  which  they  are  made,  but 
 from  the  risk  and  difficulty  of  bringing 
 them  to  perfection.  The  speculum  of  the 
 largest  telescope  foils  the  optician's  skill 
 in  casting.  Too  much  or  too  little  heat — 
 tlie  interposition  of  a  grain  of  sand,  a 
 slight  alteration  in  the  temperature  of  the 
 weather,  and  all  goes  to  pieces^t  must 
 be  recast.  Therefore,  when  successfully 
 finished,  it  is  a  matter  for  almost  the 
 congratulation  of  a  country.  Rarer,  and 
 more  difficult  still  thau  the  costliest  part 
 
 of  the  most  delicate  of  instruments,  is  the 
 completion  of  Christian  character.  Only 
 let  there  come  the  heat  of  persecution — or 
 the  cold  of  human  desertion — a  little  of 
 the  world's  dust — and  the  rare  and  costly 
 thing  is  (liable)  to  be  cracked,  and  beco-ne 
 a  failure.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 PEEPECTION  (Christian)— Aim  at. 
 
 Every  Christian  is  obliged  to  level  at 
 perfection,  and  if  he  hath  any  other  in- 
 tention, he  is  in  danger  to  lose  himself 
 eternally.  A  bold  saying,  but  it  is  the 
 sentence  of  St.  Augustine,  "You  shall 
 always  be  displeased  with  yourself  for  that 
 which  you  are,  if  you  desire  to  attain  to 
 that  which  you  are  not ;  and  if  you  chance 
 to  say  it  is  enough,  you  are  undone." 
 And  who  are  you  that  dare  limit  the  gifts 
 of  God  ?  and  who  are  you  that  say  1  will 
 have  but  such,  or  such  a  degree  of  graces, 
 I  satisfy  myself  with  such  a  sanctity,  I 
 have  proceeded  far  enough  in  a  spiritual 
 life  ;  let  us  set  up  our  staff  here  ?  What 
 wickedness  is  this  ?  Is  not  this  to  imii,ate 
 that  barbarous  king  who  cast  chains  into 
 the  sea  to  tie  the  ocean  in  fetters  ?  God 
 hath  given  us  a  heart  of  a  larger  latitude 
 than  the  heavens,  which  He  will  replenish 
 with  Himself,  and  you  will  straiten  it  like 
 a  snail,  to  lodge  Him  in  narrow  bounds, 
 whom  the  world  cannot  comprehend. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 PEEFECTION  (Christian)  —  Attainability 
 of. 
 Christian  perfection  is  attainable,  from 
 the  fact  that  it  is  commanded.  Does  God 
 command  us  to  be  perfect,  and  still  shall 
 we  say  that  it  is  an  impossibility  ?  Are 
 we  not  always  to  inf  r,  when  God  com- 
 mands a  thing,  that  there  is  a  natural 
 possibility  of  doing  that  which  H.  com- 
 mands ?  I  recollect  hearing  an  individual 
 say,  he  would  prcisch  to  sinners  that  they 
 ought  to  repent,  because  God  commands 
 it;  but  he  would  not  preach  that  they 
 could  repent,  because  God  has  nowhere 
 said  that  they  can.  What  consummate 
 trifling!  Suppose  a  man  vvere  to  say  he 
 would  preach  to  citizens,  that  they  ought 
 to  obey  the  laws  of  the  country  because 
 the  government  had  enacted  them,  but 
 would  not  tell  them  that  they  could  obey, 
 because  it  is  nowhere  in  the  statute-bcjk 
 enacted  that  they  have  the  ability.  It  is 
 always  to  be  understood,  when  God  re- 
 Cjuires  anything  of  men,  that  they  possess 
 the  requlnite  faculties  to  do  it.  Otherwise 
 God  requires  of  us  impossibilities,  on  pain 
 of  death,  and  sends  sinners  to  hell  for  not 
 doing  what  they  were  in  no  sense  able  to 
 do.  Finney 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Definitions  of. 
 We  give  the  name  of  Christian  perfec* 
 42 
 
PEEFECTlOa. 
 
 tion  to  tliat  maturity  of  grace  and  holiness 
 which  established  adult  believers  attain  to 
 under  the  Christian  dispensation ;  and 
 thus  we  distinguish  that  maturity  of  grace 
 both  from  the  ripeness  of  grace  which 
 belongs  to  the  dispensation  of  the  Jews 
 below  us,  and  from  the  ripeness  of  glory 
 which  belongs  to  departed  saints  above  us. 
 Hence  it  appears  that,  by  Christian  per- 
 fection, we  mean  nothing  but  the  clusters 
 and  maturity  of  the  graces  which  compose 
 the  Christian  character  in  the  church  mili- 
 tant. 
 
 In  other  words,  Cliristian  perfection  is  a 
 spiritual  constellation  made  up  of  these 
 gracious  stars, — perfect  repentance,  perfect 
 faith,  perfect  humility,  perfect  meekness, 
 perfect  self-denial,  perfect  resignation,  per- 
 fect hope,  perfect  charity  for  our  visible 
 enemies  as  well  as  for  our  earthly  relations ; 
 and,  above  all,  perfect  love  for  our  invisible 
 God,  through  the  explicit  knowledge  of  our 
 Mediator,  Jesus  Christ.  And  as  tliis  List 
 star  is  always  accompanied  by  all  the 
 others,  as  Jupiter  is  by  his  satellites,  we 
 frequently  use,  as  St.  John,  the  phrase 
 "perfect  love,"  instead  of  the  word  "per- 
 fection;" understanding  by  it  the  pure 
 love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  the  hearts  of 
 established  believers  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 which  is  abundantly  given  them  under  the 
 fulness  of  the  Christian  dispensation. 
 
 J.  Fletcher. 
 
 Perfection  is  the  denying  of  our  own 
 will;  tlie  acknowledgment  of  our  own 
 vileness,  constant  resignation  to  the  will 
 of  God,  and  unwearied  love  for  our  neigh- 
 bour. In  a  word,  it  is  that  Inve  which 
 thinks  of  nothing,  seeks  nothing,  desires 
 nothing  but  God.  John  Arndt. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Description  of. 
 
 What  is,  then,  the  perfection  of  which 
 man  is  capable,  while  he  dwells  in  a  cor- 
 ruptible body  ?  It  is  the  complying  with 
 that  kind  command,  "  Jly  son,  give  me 
 thine  heart."  It  is  the  "loving  the  Lord 
 his  God  with  all  his  heart,  and  with  all  his 
 soul,  and  with  all  his  mind."  This  is  the 
 sum  of  Christian  perfection  :  it  is  all  com- 
 prised in  that  one  word,  love.  The  first 
 branch  of  it  is  the  love  of  God ;  and  as  he 
 that  loves  God  loves  his  brother  also,  it  is 
 inseparably  connected  with  the  second, 
 "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself." 
 Thou  shalt  love  every  man  as  thy  own 
 soul,  as  Christ  loved  us.  "  On  these  two 
 commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the 
 prophets :"  these  contain  the  whole  of 
 Christian  perfection. 
 
 Another  view  of  this  is  given  us  in 
 those  words  of  the  great  apostle,  "  Let  this 
 mind  be  in  you,  which  was  also  in  Christ 
 Jesus."  For  although  this  immediately 
 and  directly  refers  to  the  humility  of  our 
 
 Lord,  yet  it  may  be  taken  in  a  far  more 
 extensive  sense,  so  as  to  include  the  whole 
 disposition  of  His  mind,  all  His  affections, 
 all  his  tempers,  both  toward  God  and  man. 
 Now  it  is  certain  that  as  there  was  no  evil 
 affection  in  Him,  so  no  good  affection  or 
 temper  was  wanting.  So  that  whatsoever 
 things  are  holy,  whatsoever  things  are 
 lovely,  are  all  included  in  the  mind  that 
 tvas  in  Christ  Jesus. 
 
 St.  Paul,  when  writing  to  the  Galatians, 
 places  perfection  in  yet  another  view.  It 
 is  the  one  undivided  fruit  of  the  Spirit, 
 which  he  describes  thus  :  "  The  fruit  of  the 
 Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-sufiering, 
 gentleness,  gooduess,  fidelity "  (so  the 
 word  shall  be  translated  here),  "  meekness, 
 temperance."  What  a  glorious  constella- 
 tion of  graces  is  here !  Now  suppose  all 
 these  things  to  be  knit  together  in  one, — 
 to  be  united  together  in  the  soul  of  a  be- 
 liever,— this  is  Christian  perfection. 
 
 Again :  he  writes  to  the  Christians  at 
 Ephesus,  of  "putting  on  the  new  man, 
 which  is  created  after  God,  in  righteous- 
 ness and  true  holiness."  And  to  the  Co- 
 lossians,  of  "  the  new  man,  renewed  after 
 ttie  image  of  Him  that  created  him ;" 
 plainly  referring  to  the  words  in  Genesis 
 (chap,  i,  27),  "  So  God  created  man  in  His 
 own  image."  Now  the  moral  image  of  God 
 consists,  as  the  apostle  observes,  "  in  right- 
 eousness and  true  holiness."  By  sin  this 
 is  totally  destroyed,  and  we  never  can 
 recover  it  till  we  are  "  created  anew  in 
 Clirist  Jesus."     And  tliis  is  perfection. 
 
 St.  Peter  expresses  it  in  a  still  different 
 manner,  though  to  the  same  effect :  "  As 
 He  that  hath  called  you  is  holy,  so  be  ye 
 holy  in  all  manner  of  conversation  "  (1  Pet. 
 i,  16).  According  to  this  apostle,  then, 
 perfection  is  another  name  for  universal 
 holiness, — inward  and  outward  rigliteous- 
 ness, — holiness  of  life  arising  from  holiness 
 of  heart. 
 
 If  any  expressions  can  be  stronger  than 
 these,  they  are  those  of  St.  Paul  to  the 
 Thessalonians  (1  Epistle,  v,  23):  "The 
 God  of  peace  Himself  sanctify  you  wholly ; 
 and  may  the  whole  of  you,  the  spirit,  the 
 soul,  and  the  body"  (this  is  the  literal 
 translation)  "  be  preserved  blameless  unto 
 the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 
 
 We  cannot  show  this  sanctification  in  a 
 more  excellent  way  than  by  complying 
 with  that  exhortation  of  the  apostle,  "  I 
 beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of 
 God,  that  ye  present  your  bodies  "  (your- 
 selves, your  souls  and  bodies; — a  pai-t  put. 
 for  the  whole,  by  a  common  figure  of 
 speech)  "a  living  sacrifice  unto  Godj"  to 
 whom  ye  were  consecrated  many  years 
 ago  in  baptism.  When  what  was  then  de- 
 voted is  actually  presented  to  God,  then  is 
 the  man  of  God  perfect. 
 
 To   the   same   effect   St.  Peter  says  (1 
 
PEEFECTIOir. 
 
 659 
 
 Epistle,  ii,  5),  "Ye  are  a  holy  priesthood, 
 to  offer  up  spiritual  sacrifices,  acceptable 
 to  God  through  Jesus  Christ."  But  what 
 sacrifi(!es  shall  we  offer  now,  seeing  the 
 Jewish  dispensation  is  at  an  end  ?  If  you 
 have  truly  presented  yourselves  to  God, 
 you  offer  up  to  Him  continually  all  your 
 thoughts,  and  words,  and  actions,  through 
 the  Son  of  His  love,  as  a  sacrifice  of  praise 
 and  thanksgiving. 
 
 Thus  you  experience  that  He  whose  name 
 is  called  Jesus,  does  not  bear  that  name  in 
 vain ;  that  He  does  in  fact "  save  the  people 
 from  their  sins,"  the  root  as  well  as  the 
 branches.  And  this  salvation  from  sin — 
 from  all  sin — is  another  description  of  per- 
 fection, though  indeed  it  expresses  only 
 the  least,  the  lowest  branch  of  it,  only  the 
 negative  part  of  the  great  salvation. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Following. 
 
 As  the  eagle  pursues  his  upward  flight 
 until  he  reach  the  highest  point  of  possiljle 
 ascent;  so  the  Christian  should  go  on 
 rising  in  the  life  of  God  until  he  come  to 
 perfection.  Anon. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— found  in  God. 
 
 All  earthly  things  to  the  soul  are  but  as 
 the  air  to  the  stone — can  give  it  no  stay 
 till  it  come  to  God  the  centre.  As  the 
 circle  is  the  perfectest  figure,  because  it 
 beginneth  and  endeth,  the  points  do  meet 
 together  (as  mathematicians  give  the  rea- 
 son), the  last  point  meeteth  in  the  first, 
 from  whence  it  came.  So  shall  we  never 
 come  to  perfection  or  satisfaction  (saith  a 
 reverend  man)  till  our  souls  come  unto 
 God,  till  God  make  the  circle  meet,  &c. 
 The  wicked  walk  the  round  from  one 
 creature  to  another,  but  they  come  not  at 
 God;  and  hence  they  are  so  dissatisfied. 
 
 J.  Trapp. 
 
 The  end  of  the  Gospel  is  life  and  per- 
 fection. ...  It  is  to  make  us  partakers  of 
 the  image  of  God,  in  righteousness  and 
 true  holiness.  .  .  .  God  Himself  cannot 
 make  me  happy,  if  He  be  only  without 
 me;  unless  He  give  a  participation  of 
 Himself  and  His  own  likeness  unto  my 
 soul.  Cudioorth. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Going  on  to. 
 
 The  acorn  does  not  become  an  oak  in  a 
 day.  The  ri})ened  scholar  was  not  made 
 such  by  a  single  lesson.  The  well-trained 
 soldier  was  not  a  raw  recruit  yesterday. 
 It  is  not  one  touch  of  the  artist's  pencil 
 that  produces  a  finished  painting.  There 
 are  always  months  between  seed-time  and 
 harvest.  Even  so  the  path  of  the  just  is 
 like  the  shining  light,  which  shineth  more 
 and  more  unto  the  perfect  day. 
 
 E.  B.  Nichol 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Growth  in. 
 
 And  we  may  not  only  say,  in  general 
 terms,  that  there  may  be  a  growth  in  per- 
 fection, but  may  assert  further,  that  the 
 thing  which  is  most  perfect,  if  it  be  sus- 
 ceptible of  growth  at  all,  will  have  the 
 most  sure  and  rapid  growth.  Which 
 grows  most  and  in  the  best  manner — the 
 flower  which  is  whole  and  perfect  in  its 
 insipient  state,  or  that  which  has  a  canker 
 in  it,  or  is  otherwise  injured  or  defective 
 in  some  of  its  parts  ?  Which  will  grow 
 the  most  rapidly  and  symmetrically — the 
 child  which  is  perfect  in  its  infancy,  or 
 one  which  is  afflicted  with  some  malforma- 
 tion ?  Illustrations  and  facts  of  this  kind 
 seem  to  make  it  clear  that  the  spiritually 
 renovated  state  of  mind,  which  is  variously 
 called  holiness,  assurance  of  faith,  perfect 
 love,  and  sanctification,  may  be  susceptible 
 of  growth  or  increase.  It  is  not  only  evi- 
 dent that  there  is  no  natural  or  physical 
 impossibility  in  it,  but,  as  has  been  in- 
 ti mated,  we  may  go  farther,  and  lay  it 
 down  as  a  general  truth,  that  perfection 
 in  the  nature  of  a  thing  is  requisite  to 
 perfection  in  degree.  And  accordingly, 
 although  it  is  possible  for  a  person,  who  is 
 partially  holy,  to  grow  in  holiness,  a  per- 
 son who  is  entirely  holy,  although  he  may 
 be  assailed  by  unfavorable  influences  out- 
 wardly, will  grow  much  moi-e.         Upham. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Labour  for. 
 
 And  why  should  you  object  to  agonise 
 and  strive  when  the  prize  is  eternal  life  ? 
 It  is  said  of  Tasso  the  poet,  that  the 
 manuscripts  of  his  '  Jerusalem  Delivered  ' 
 were  so  blotted  with  itmumerable  cor- 
 rections, as  to  be  scarcely  legible.  Another 
 poet.  Pope,  kept  his  works  in  his  study 
 from  one  to  two  years  before  he  allowed 
 them  to  be  printed.  Now,  if  to  secure  all 
 the  perfection  possible  to  their  writings 
 these  poets  strove  so  painfully,  how  much 
 more  ought  yim  to  strive  for  the  purity  of 
 your  heart,  and  the  salvation  of  your  soul ! 
 Anon. 
 
 PERFECTION  (Christian)— Process  of. 
 
 The  process  of  Christian  perfection  is 
 like  that  which  a  portrait  goes  tlirough 
 under  the  hand  of  the  artist.  When  a 
 man  is  converted,  he  is  but  the  outline 
 sketch  of  a  character  which  he  is  to  fill  up. 
 He  first  lays  in  the  dead  colouring.  Then 
 comes  the  work  of  laying  in  the  colours; 
 and  he  goes  on  day  after  day,  week  after 
 week,  month  after  month,  and  year  after 
 year,  blending  them,  and  heightening  the 
 eftect.  It  is  a  life's  work  ;  and  when  he 
 dies  he  is  still  laying  in  and  blending  the 
 colours,  and  heightening  the  eftect.  And 
 if  men  suppose  the  work  is  done  when  they 
 
PERJURY— PERSECUTION. 
 
 are  converted,  why  should  we  expect  any- 
 thing but  lopsided  Christian  chsiracters  ? 
 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 PERJURY— Crime  of. 
 
 Perjury  is  a  very  heinous  crime,  as  it  is 
 treating  the  Almighty  with  irreverence; 
 denying,  or  at  least  discarding  His  Oni 
 niscie-iice;  profouing  His  name,  and  violat- 
 ing truth.  It  has  always  been  esteemed 
 a  very  detestable  thing,  and  those  who 
 have  been  proved  guilty  of  it,  have  been 
 looked  upon  as  the  pests  of  society. 
 
 C.  JBuclc. 
 PERJURY- Definition  of. 
 
 Perjury  is  the  taking  of  an  oath,  in 
 order  to  tell  or  confirm  a  falsehood.     Ibid. 
 
 PERSECUTION— for  Christ. 
 
 "  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  revile  you." 
 Stars  are  never  the  less  glorious  though 
 they  have  ugly  names  given  them,  as  the 
 bear  and  the  dragon.  A  saint's  reproaches 
 are  like  a  soldier's  scars,  honorable  (1  Pet. 
 iv,  14).  "  If  ye  are  reproached  for  the 
 name  of  Christ,  the  Spirit  of  God  and  of 
 glory  rests  upon  you."  While  men  clip 
 your  credit  to  make  it  lighter,  they  make 
 your  crown  heavier.  T.  Watson. 
 
 PERSECUTION— Christian  in. 
 
 Unless  a  grain  of  mustard  seed  be  bruised, 
 the  extent  of  its  virtue  is  never  acknow- 
 ledged. For  without  bruising  it  is  insipid, 
 but  if  it  is  bruised,  it  becomes  hot,  and  it 
 gives  out  all  those  pungent  properties  that 
 were  concealed  in  it.  Thus  every  good 
 man,  so  long  as  he  is  not  smitten,  is  re- 
 garded as  insipid,  and  of  slight  account. 
 I5ut  if  ever  the  grinding  of  persecution 
 crush  him,  instantly  he  gives  forth  all  the 
 warmth  of  his  savour,  and  all  that  before 
 appeared  to  be  weak  or  contemptible  is 
 turned  to  godly  fervour,  and  that  which  in 
 peaceful  times  he  had  been  glad  to  keep 
 from  view  within  his  own  bosom,  he  is 
 driven  by  the  force  of  tribulation  to  make 
 known.  Gregory. 
 
 PERSECUTION— Christianity  Surviving. 
 
 "  Oh  !"  said  Csesar,  "  we  will  soon  root 
 up  this  Christianity  :  oft'  with  their  heads." 
 
 The  ditlerent  governors  hastened  one 
 after  another  of  the  disciples  to  death,  but 
 the  more  they  persecuted  them  the  more 
 they  multiplied.  The  pro-consuls  had 
 orders  to  destroy  Christians ;  the  more 
 they  hunted  them,  the  more  Christians 
 there  were,  until  at  last  men  pressed  to 
 the  j\idgment  seat  and  asked  to  be  per- 
 mitted to  die  for  Clirist.  They  invented 
 torments,  they  dragged  saints  at  the  heels 
 of  wild  horses,  they  laid  them  upon  red-hot 
 gridirons,  they  pulled  off  the  skin  from  their 
 flesh  piece  by  piece,  they  were  sawn  asun- 
 der,  they   were    wrapt   up    in    skins    and 
 
 daubed  with  pitch  and  set  in  Nero's  gar- 
 dens at  night  to  burn,  they  were  lefc  to 
 rot  in  dungeons,  they  were  made  a  spec- 
 tacle to  all  men  in  the  amphitheatre,  the 
 bears  hugged  them  to  death,  the  lions  tore 
 them  to  pieces,  the  wild  bulls  tossed  tliera 
 upon  their  horns,  and  yet  Christianity 
 spread.  All  the  swords  of  the  legionarii-s 
 which  had  put  to  rout  the  armies  of  all 
 nations,  and  had  overcome  the  invincible 
 Gaul  and  the  savage  Briton,  could  not 
 witlistand  the  feebleness  of  Christianity, 
 for  the  weakness  of  God  is  mightier  than 
 men.  C  H.  Sjjurgeon. 
 
 PERSECUTION— Definition  of. 
 
 Persecution  is  the  infliction  of  pain, 
 punishment,  or  death  upon  others,  un- 
 justly, more  especially  for  adhering  to  a 
 religious  creed  or  mode  of  worship. 
 
 ilaunder. 
 PERSECUTION— Faithful  in. 
 
 As  a  prince  dethroned  by  his  own  sub- 
 jects retains  a  most  tender  affection  for 
 tliose  who  continue  faithful  to  him  in  the 
 ]mblic  revolt,  so  we  may  presume  to  con- 
 ceive that  God  will  ever  regard  those  with 
 peculiar  goodness  who  maintain  the  purity 
 of  religion,  when  it  is  on  all  sides  attacked 
 or  oppressed.  Fascal. 
 
 PERSECUTION— not  the  Gospel. 
 
 To  banish,  imprison,  plunder,  starve, 
 bang,  and  burn  men  for  religion  is  not  the 
 Gospel  of  Christ ;  it  is  the  gospel  of  the 
 devil.  Where  persecution  begins,  Christi- 
 anity ends.  Christ  never  used  anything 
 that  looked  like  force  or  violence,  except 
 once ;  and  that  was  to  drive  bad  men  out 
 of  the  temple,  and  not  to  drive  them  in. 
 
 Jortin. 
 PERSECUTION— Inconsistency  of. 
 
 Persecution,  for  conscience  sake,  is  every 
 way  inconsistent :  1.  It  is  founded  on  an 
 absurd  supposition  that  one  man  has  a 
 light  to  judge  for  another  in  matters  of 
 religion.  2.  It  is  evidently  opposite  to 
 that  fundamental  principle  of  morality, 
 that  we  should  do  to  others  as  we  could 
 reasonably  desire  they  should  do  to  us. 
 3.  It  is  by  no  means  calculated  to  answer 
 the  end  which  its  patrons  profess  to  intend 
 by  it.  4.  It  evidently  tends  to  produce 
 a  great  deal  of  mischief  and  confusion  in 
 the  world.  5.  The  Christian  religion  must, 
 humanly  speaking,  be  not  only  obstructed 
 but  destroyed,  should  persecuting  princi- 
 ples universally  prevail.  6.  Persecution  is 
 so  far  from  being  required,  or  encouraged 
 by  the  Gospel,  That  it  is  most  directly  con- 
 trary to  many  ot'  its  precepts,  and  indeed 
 to  the  whole  of  it.  Doddridge. 
 
 Tliere  is  nothing  certainly  more  unre.i- 
 sonable,  more  inconsistent  with  the  rights 
 
PERSECUTION— PERSEVEEA^CE. 
 
 661 
 
 of  liuman  nature,  inore  contrary  to  the 
 spirit  and  precepts  of  the  Christian  reli- 
 gion, more  iniquitous  and  unjust,  more 
 impolitic  than  persecution.  Ifc  is  against 
 natural  religion,  revealed  religion,  and 
 sound  policy.  Lord  Mansfield. 
 
 PEESSCUTIOIiT— Ravages  of. 
 
 It  has  been  said  that  not  less  than  fifty 
 millions  of  Protestants,  at  djfterent  times, 
 have  been  put  to  death  by  papists.  What 
 an  army  !  What  seas  of  blood  have  been 
 shed !  If  their  bodies  were  piled  in  one 
 heap,  they  w^ould  be  bigger  than  any 
 mountain  in  this  world.        Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 PERSECUTIOlir— Safety  in. 
 When  persecution's  torrent  blaze 
 
 Wra;)s  the  unshrinking  martyr's  head; 
 Wiien  fade  all  earthly  flowers  and  bays. 
 
 When  summer  friends  are  gone  and  fled, 
 Is  he  alone  in  tliat  dark  hour 
 AVho  owns  the  Lord  of  love  and  power  ? 
 
 Or  waves  there  not  around  his  brow 
 A  wand  no  human  arm  may  wield. 
 
 Fraught  with  a  spell  no  angels  know. 
 His  steps  to  guide,  his  soul  to  shield  ? 
 
 Thou,  Saviour,  art  his  Charmed  Bower, 
 
 His  Magic  lling,  his  Rock,  his  Tower. 
 
 Kehle. 
 
 PERSECUTION— Threefold. 
 
 1.  Mental,  when  the  spirit  of  a  man 
 rises  up  and  opposes  another.  2.  Verbal, 
 when  men  give  hard  words  and  deal  in 
 nncharitable  censures.  3.  Actual  or  open, 
 by  the  hand,  such  as  dragging  of  inno- 
 cent persons  before  the  tribunal  of  justice 
 (Matt.  X,  18).  C.  Buck. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS— Beneficial. 
 
 Persecutions  are  beneficial  to  the  right- 
 eous. They  are  a  hail  of  precious  stones, 
 which,  it  is  true,  rob  the  vine  of  her  leaves, 
 but  give  her  possessor  a  more  precious 
 treasure  instead.  Gossner. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS— Severest. 
 
 For  three  hundred  years  Christianity  was 
 a  persecuted  religion  in  the  Roman  empire, 
 and  during  this  period  all  who  assumed  the 
 public  profession  of  it  did  so  at  the  hazard 
 of  their  lives.  But  the  severest  persecu- 
 tions of  all  are  those  which  the  papal  com- 
 munity has  inflicted.  Her  character  and 
 history  are  written  in  blood,  as  the  doings 
 of  her  Inquisition  in  Italy,  Spain,  and  Por- 
 tugal, her  wars  of  extermination  against 
 the  Vaudois,  her  horrid  massacres  in  France 
 and  the  Netherlands,  and  the  burnings  of 
 Smithfield  loudly  declare.  T.  Jackson. 
 
 PERSECUTIONS— The  Ten. 
 
 The  first  was  under  the  emperor  Nero, 
 thirty-one  years  after  our  Lord's  Ascension. 
 Multitudes  were  apprehended;  they  were 
 
 covered  by  the  skins  of  wild  beasts,  torn 
 to  pieces  by  devouring  dogs,  fastenid  to 
 crosses,  wrapt  up  in  combustil)le  girments 
 that,  when  the  daylight  failed,  they  might, 
 like  torches,  serve  to  dispel  the  gloom  of 
 night.  For  this  tragical  scene  Nero  lent 
 his  own  gardens;  and  thus  the  shrieks  of 
 women  burning  to  ashes  supplied  music 
 and  diversion  for  their  circus.  The  second 
 was  under  Domitian,  in  the  year  95,  and 
 40,000  are  supposed  to  have  perished.  The 
 third  began  in  the  third  year  of  Trojan, 
 in  the  year  100.  The  fourth  was  under 
 Antonius.  The  fifth  began  in  the  year 
 127,  xinder  Servitus,  when  great  cruelties 
 were  committed.  The  sixth  began  in  the 
 reign  of  Maximus,  in  235-7.  The  seventh, 
 which  was  the  most  dreadful  ever  known, 
 began  in  250,  under  the  emperor  Decius. 
 The  eighth  began  in  257,  under  Valerian. 
 The  ninth  was  under  Aurelian,  in  274. 
 The  tenth  began  in  the  nineteenth  year  of 
 Diocletian,  in  303.  In  this  dreadful  per- 
 secution, ■  which  lasted  ten  years,  houses 
 filled  with  Christians  were  set  on  fire,  and 
 whole  droves  twisted  together  with  ropes 
 and  cast  into  the  sea.  It  is  related  that 
 17,000  were  slain  in  one  month.  In  this 
 fiery  persecution  it  is  believed  that  not  less 
 than  144,000  Christians  died  by  violence, 
 besides  700,000  that  died  through  the 
 banishments,  or  the  public  works  to  which 
 they  were  condemned.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Christian) -Cause  of. 
 
 Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  In- 
 terpreter took  Christian  by  the  hand,  and 
 led  him  into  a  place  where  was  a  fire  burn- 
 ing against  a  wall,  and  one  standing  by 
 it,  always  casting  much  water  upon  it  to 
 quench  it ;  yet  did  the  fire  burn  higher 
 and  better. 
 
 Then  said  Christian,  Wliat  means  this  ? 
 The  Interpreter  answered,  Tliis  fire  is  the 
 work  of  grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart ; 
 he  that  casts  water  upon  it  to  extinguish 
 and  put  it  out  is  the  devil  :  but  in  that 
 thou  seest  the  fire,  notwithstanding,  burn 
 higher  and  hotter,  thou  shalt  also  see  the 
 reason  of  that.  So  he  had  him  about  to 
 the  back  side  of  the  wall,  where  he  saw  a 
 man  with  a  vessel  of  oil  in  his  hand,  of 
 which  he  did  also  continually  cast  (but 
 secretly)  into  the  fire. 
 
 Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 
 The  Interpreter  said,  This  is  Christ,  wlio 
 continually,  with  the  oil  of  His  grace, 
 maintains  the  work  already  begun  in  the 
 heart  ;  by  the  means  of  which,  notwith- 
 standing what  the  devil  can  do,  the  souls 
 of  His  people  prove  gracious  still.  And  in 
 tliat  thou  sawest  that  the  man  stood  be- 
 hind the  wall  to  maintain  the  fire  ;  this  is 
 to  teach  tliee  that  it  is  liard  for  the  tempted 
 to  see  how  this  work  of  grace  is  maintained 
 in  the  soul.  Bunjan. 
 
662 
 
 PERSEVERANCE. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Christian)  —  Definition 
 
 of. 
 
 The  perseverance  of  the  saints  is  their 
 
 continuance  in  a  state  of  grace  to  a  state 
 
 of  glory.  C.  Buck. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Christian)— Failures  in. 
 Deinas  seeing  this  war,  ran  away;  fell 
 back  to  security  of  the  world.  Saul  made 
 himself  ready  to  the  battle,  but  he  durst 
 not  fight  —  glory  and  lusts  carried  him 
 away.  Judas  stood  a  bout  or  two,  but  the 
 high  priest's  money  made  him  give  over, 
 and  the  devil  took  him  captive.  But  Paul 
 fought  out  this  combat  even  to  victory, 
 though  "  he  bore  iu  his  body  the  marks  of 
 the  Lord  Jesus"  (Gal.  vi,  17).  "I  have 
 fought  a  good  fight,"  &c.  (2  Tim.  iv,  7.  8). 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Christian)— Manner  of. 
 One  told  Socrates  that  he  would  fain  go 
 to  Olympus,  but  he  distrusted  his  suffi- 
 ciency for  the  length  of  the  journey.  Soc- 
 rates told  him — Thou  walkest  every  day 
 little  or  much ;  continue  this  walk,  for- 
 ward thy  way,  and  a  few  days  shall  bring 
 thee  to  Olympus.  Every  day  every  man 
 takes  some  pains.  Let  him  bestow  that 
 measure  of  pains  in  ti-avelling  to  heaven ; 
 and  the  further  he  goes  the  more  heart  he 
 gets,  till  at  last  he  euter  through  the  gates 
 into  the  city.  T.  Adams. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE    (Christian) 
 of. 
 
 Necessity 
 
 No  grace,  no,  not  the  most  sparkling 
 and  shining  grace,  can  bring  a  man  to 
 heaven  of  itself  without  perseverance  ;  not 
 faith,  which  is  the  champion  of  grace,  if 
 it  be  faint  and  fail ;  no)-  love,  which  is  the 
 nurse  of  grace,  if  it  decline  and  wax  cold ; 
 nor  humility,  which  is  the  adorner  and 
 heautifier  of  grace,  if  it  continue  not  to 
 the  end  ;  not  obedience,  not  repentance, 
 not  patience,  no,  nor  any  other  grace,  ex- 
 cept they  have  their  perfect  work.  It  is 
 not  enough  to  begin  well  except  we  end 
 ■well.  Manasseh  and  Paul  began  ill,  but 
 ended  well ;  Judas  and  Demas  began  well, 
 but  ended  ill.  T^  Brooks. 
 
 The  philosopher  being  asked  in  his  old 
 age  why  he  did  not  give  over  his  practice 
 and  take  his  ease,  answered,  "  When  a 
 man  is  to  run  a  race  of  forty  furlongs, 
 would  you  have  him  sit  down  at  the  nine 
 and  thirtieth,  and  so  lose  the  prize  ?"  We 
 do  not  keep  a  good  fire  all  day,  and  let  it 
 go  out  in  the  evening  when  it  is  coldest, 
 but  then  rather  lay  on  more  fuel,  that  we 
 may  go  warm  to  bed.  Thus  he  that  slakes 
 the  heat  of  zeal  in  his  age,  will  go  cold  to 
 bed,  and  in  a  worse  case  to  his  grave.  To 
 continue  in  giving  glory  to  Christ  is  no 
 
 less  requisite  than  to  begin ;  though  the 
 beginning  be  more  than  half,  yet  the  end 
 is  more  than  all.  The  God  of  all  perfec- 
 tion looks  that  our  nltimum  vita  should 
 be  His  optimum  gloria,  that  our  last  works 
 should  be  our  best  works,  that  we  should 
 persevere  in  goodness  to  the  end.    Spencer. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Christian)— a  Virtue. 
 
 Bernard  calls  perseverance  the  only 
 daughter  of  the  highest  King,  the  per- 
 fection of  virtues,  the  storehouse  of  good 
 works ;  a  virtue  without  which  no  man 
 shall  see  God.  T.  Adams. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Perseverance  is  the  continuance  in  any 
 design,  state,  opinion,  or  course  of  action. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 PERSEVERANCE— Force  of. 
 
 It  gives  power  to  weakness,  and  opens 
 to  poverty  the  world's  wealth.  It  spreads 
 fertility  over  the  barren  landscape,  and 
 bids  the  choicest  fruits  and  flowers  spring 
 up  and  flourish  in  the  desert  abode  of 
 thorns  and  briars.  /S'.  Q.  Goodrich. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Final)— Importance  of. 
 There  is  a  last  enemy  to  be  destroyed — 
 death.  We  must  hold  out  to  the  conquest 
 even  of  this  last  adversary,  which,  if  it 
 conquer  us  by  the  sting  of  our  sin,  shall 
 send  us  to  the  doors  of  hell ;  if  we  conquer 
 it  by  our  faith,  it  shall  send  us  to  the  gates 
 of  this  city — heaven.  All  the  voyage  is  lost 
 through  the  perilous  sea  of  this  world  if 
 we  suffer  shipwreck  in  the  haven,  and  lose 
 our  reward  there,  where  we  should  have 
 received  it.  What  get  we  if  we  keep  Satan 
 short  of  ruling  us  with  his  force  many 
 hours,  when  at  our  last  hour  he  shall  snatch 
 our  bliss  from  us  ?  The  runner  speeds  all 
 the  way ;  but  he  comes  at  the  race's  end  to 
 the  goal,  he  stretcheth  forth  his  hand  to 
 catch  the  prize.  Be  sure  of  thy  last  step, 
 to  put  forth  the  hand  of  faith  then  most 
 strongly  ;  lest  the  reward  be  lost  which 
 thou,  with  much  labour,  hast  aimed  at. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE  (Final)— Motive  to. 
 As  when  the  weary  traveller  gains 
 
 The  height  of  some  o'erlooking  hill, 
 His  heart  revives,  if  'cross  the  plains 
 
 He  eyes  his  home,  though  distant  still. 
 
 A  traveller,  after  a  long  journey,  when 
 he  is  weary  and  faint  and  sits  down,  if  he 
 see  the  town  before  him,  it  puts  life  into 
 him,  and  he  plucks  up  his  feet  and  resolves 
 not  to  be  weary  till  he  be  at  his  journey's 
 end.  Oh,  look  at  the  crown  and  white  robe 
 set  before  you,  and  faint  if  you  can ;  get 
 on  the  top  of  Mount  Nebo — look  on  the 
 land  of  promise  —  those  good  things  set 
 
PERSEVERANCE. 
 
 663 
 
 before  you  :   taste  the  grapes  of  Canaan 
 before  you  come  to  Canaan.  Nalton. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE— Necessity  of. 
 
 He  who  allows  his  application  to  falter, 
 or  shirks  his  work  on  frivolous  pretexts,  is 
 on  the  sure  road  to  ultimate  failure.  Let 
 any  task  be  undertaken  as  a  thing  not 
 possible  to  be  evaded,  and  it  will  soon  come 
 to  be  performed  with  alacrity  and  cheer- 
 fulness. The  habit  of  strenuous  continued 
 labour  will  become  comparatively  easy  in 
 time,  like  every  other  habit.  Thus  even 
 men  with  the  commonest  brains  and  the 
 most  slender  powers  will  accomplish  much, 
 if  they  will  but  apply  themscdves  wholly 
 and  indefatigably  to  one  thing  at  a  time. 
 
 Sir  Charles  Napier,  when  in  India,  en- 
 countered an  army  of  35,000  Belooches 
 with  2000  men,  of  whom  only  400  were 
 Europeans.  He  charged  them  in  the  centre 
 np  a  high  bank,  and  for  three  hours  the 
 battle  was  undecided.  At  last  they  turned 
 and  fled. 
 
 It  is  this  sort  of  pluck,  tenacity,  and  de- 
 termined perseverance  which  wins  soldiers' 
 battles,  and,  indeed,  every  battle.  It  is  the 
 one  neck  nearer  that  wins  the  race  and 
 shows  the  blood,  the  one  pull  more  of  the 
 oar  that  proves  the  "  beefiuess  of  the  fel- 
 low," as  Oxford  men  say ;  it  is  the  one 
 march  more  that  wins  the  campaign ;  the 
 five  minutes  more  persistent  courage  that 
 wins  the  fight.  Though  your  force  be  less 
 than  another's,  you  equal  and  outmaster 
 your  opponent  if  you  continue  it  longer 
 and  concentrate  it  more.  The  reply  of  the 
 Spartan  father  who  said  to  his  son,  when 
 complaining  that  his  sword  was  too  short, 
 "  Add  a  step  to  it,"  is  applicable  to  every- 
 thing in  life.  Smiles. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE— Propriety  of. 
 
 In  1785,  Mr.  Wesley,  with  Joseph  Brad- 
 ford, visited  Adam  Clarke  on  St.  Austell 
 circuit.  Mr.  Clarke  relates  the  following, 
 which  took  place  during  their  visit.  I  was 
 with  Mr.  Wesley  one  day,  when  his  chaise 
 was  not  at  the  door  at  the  time  he  had 
 ordered  it ;  he  immediately  set  off  on  foot, 
 and  I  accompanied  him;  it  was  not  long, 
 however,  before  Mr.  Bradford  overtook  us 
 with  it.  Mr.  Wesley  inquired,  "  Joseph, 
 what  has  been  the  matter  ?" 
 
 Mr.  B.  "  I  could  not  get  things  ready 
 any  sooner,  sir." 
 
 Mr.  W.  "  You  should  have  urged  the 
 people  to  it." 
 
 Mr.  B.  "  I  spoke  to  them  to  be  in  readi- 
 ness, sir,  no  less  than  nineteen  times." 
 
 Mr.  W.  (pleasantly)  "  You  lost  it,  you 
 blockhead,  for  want  of  the  twentieth ;" 
 thus  giving  Joseph  and  his  young  friend 
 a  gentle  hint  on  the  propriety  of  perse- 
 verance. Wakeley. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE— Success  of. 
 
 A  hare  and  tortoise  engaged  to  run  a 
 race ;  but  the  hare,  depending  on  the 
 swiftness  of  his  foot,  delayed  in  starting 
 off  upon  the  proposed  race  so  long,  that 
 the  tortoise  reached  the  goal,  won  the 
 prize,  through  its  perseverance,  though 
 slow  in  its  motions.  John  Bate. 
 
 The    rolling   wheel,    that    runneth    often 
 round, 
 The  hardest  steel  in  course  of  time  doth 
 tear; 
 And   drivelling  drops;,  that  often  do  re- 
 bound. 
 The  firmest   flint  doth   in   continuance 
 wear.  Spenser. 
 
 For  Hercules  himself  must  yield  to  odds; 
 And  many  strokes,  tho'  with  a  little  axe. 
 Hew  down,  and  fell  the  hardest  timber'd 
 oak.  Shakespeare. 
 
 PERSEVERANCE— Victorious. 
 
 There  was  no  feature  more  remarkable 
 in  the  character  of  Timour  than  his  extra- 
 ordinary perseverance.  No  difficulties  ever 
 led  him  to  recede  from  what  he  had  once 
 undertaken ;  and  he  often  persisted  in  his 
 efforts  under  circumstances  which  led  all 
 around  him  to  despair.  On  such  occasions 
 he  used  to  relate  to  his  friends  an  anecdote 
 of  his  early  life.  "  I  once,"  he  said,  "  was 
 forced  to  take  shelter  from  my  enemies  in 
 a  ruined  building,  where  I  sat  alone  many 
 hours.  Desiring  to  divert  my  mind  from 
 my  hopeless  condition,  I  fixed  my  eyes  on 
 an  ant,  that  was  carrying  a  grain  of  corn 
 larger  than  itself  up  a  high  wall.  I  num- 
 bered the  efforts  it  made  to  accomplish  this 
 object.  The  grain  fell  sixty-nine  times  to 
 the  ground ;  but  the  insect  persevered,  and 
 the  seventieth  time  it  reached  the  top. 
 This  sight  gave  me  courage  at  the  moment, 
 and  I  never  forgot  the  lesson."      Malcolm. 
 
 Robert  Bruce,  restorer  of  the  Scottish 
 monarchy,  being  out  one  day  looking  at 
 the  enemies  of  his  country,  was  obliged  to 
 seek  refuge  at  night  in  a  barn,  which  be- 
 longed to  a  poor  but  honest  cottager.  In 
 the  morning,  when  he  awoke,  he  saw  a 
 spider  climbing  up  the  beam  of  the  roof. 
 The  spider  fell  down  to  the  ground,  but  it 
 immediately  tried  again,  when  it  a  second 
 time  fell  to  the  ground.  It  made  a  third 
 attempt,  but  did  not  succeed.  Twelve 
 times  did  the  little  spider  try  to  climb 
 up  the  beam,  and  twelve  times  it  fell  down 
 again,  but  the  thirteenth  time  it  succeeded 
 and  gained  the  top  of  the  beam.  The  king 
 immediately  got  up  from  his  lowly  couch, 
 and  said,  "  This  little  spider  has  taught  me 
 perseverance.  I  will  follow  its  example. 
 Twelve  times  have  I  been  beaten  by  the 
 
mi 
 
 PEHSEVEEANCE— FHILOSOPHY  AND  DIVDIITY. 
 
 enemy.  I  will  try  once  more."  He  did 
 so,  iind  won  the  next  battle !  The  king 
 was  the  spider's  scholar.       /S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 PERSEVEEANCE— a  Virtue. 
 
 Perseverance  is  a  Roman  virtue, 
 That  wins  each    godlike  act,   and  plucks 
 
 success 
 Even  from  the  spear-proof  crest  of  rugged 
 
 danger.  JIavard. 
 
 PEESO]!T— Definition  of. 
 
 A  person  was  defined  long  ago  by  Occam 
 to  1)6  Suppoaitum  intellectuale,  an  indi- 
 vidual intellectual  substance,  subsisting  by 
 itself.  And  in  this  strict  sense  three  per- 
 sons (as  three  angels,  three  men)  are  three 
 distinct  individual  substances.         Lawson. 
 
 PSESOITS— Passionate. 
 
 They  are  like  men  who  stand  on  their 
 
 heads,  they  see  all  things  the  wrong  wav. 
 Plato. 
 
 PIIILAISTERCPY. 
 
 From  realm  to  realm,  with  cross  or  crescent 
 crowned, 
 
 Where'er  mankind  and  misery  are  found, 
 
 O'er  burning  sands,  deep  waves,  or  wilds 
 of  snow. 
 
 Mild  Howard  journeying  seeks  the  house 
 of  woe. 
 
 Down  many  a  winding  step  to  dungeons 
 dank, 
 
 Where    angiiish   wails   aloud   and  fetters 
 clank. 
 
 To  caves  bestrewed  with  many  a  mouldering 
 bone. 
 
 And  cells  whose  echoes  only  learn  to  groan 
 
 Whore  no  kind  bars  a  whispering  friend 
 disclose. 
 
 No  sunbeam  enters,  and  no  zephyr  blows ; — 
 
 He  treads,  inemulous  of  fame  or  wealth, 
 
 Profuse  of  toil  and  prodigal  of  health  ; 
 
 Leads  stern-eyed  Justice  to  the  dark  do- 
 mains, 
 
 If  not  to  sever,  to  relax  the  chains ; 
 
 Gives  to  her  babes  the  self-devoted  wife. 
 
 To  her  fond  husband  liberty  and  life, — 
 
 Onward  he  moves  !  disease  and  death  retire ; 
 
 And  murmuring  demons  hate  him  and  ad- 
 mire. Darwin. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY— Christianity  above. 
 
 Every  system  of  philosophy  is  little  in 
 comparison  to  Christianity.  Philosophy 
 may  expand  our  ideas  of  creation,  but  it 
 neither  inspires  a  love  to  the  moral  charac- 
 ter of  the  Creator,  nor  a  well-grounded 
 hope  of  eternal  life.  Philosophy,  at  most, 
 can  only  place  us  at  the  top  of  Pisgah; 
 there,  Lke  Moses,  we  must  die ;  it  gives 
 us  no  possession  of  the  good  land.  It  is 
 the  province  of  Christianity  to  add,  All  is 
 yours!  When  you  have  ascended  to  the 
 heights    of    human   discovery,    there    are 
 
 things,  and  things  of  infinite  moment,  too, 
 that  are  utterly  beyond  its  reach.  Reve- 
 lation is  the  medium,  and  the  only  medium, 
 by  which,  standing,  as  it  were,  "on  Nature's 
 Alps,"  we  discover  things  which  eye  h;!th 
 not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  and  of  which  it 
 hath  never  entered  into  the  heart  of  man 
 to  conceive.  Anon. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY— Cowardice  of. 
 
 Philosophy  is  a  bully  that  talks  very 
 loud  when  the  danger  is  at  a  distance,  but 
 the  moment  she  is  hard  pressed  by  the 
 euemy  she  is  not  to  be  found  at  her  post ; 
 l)ut  leaves  the  brunt  of  the  battle  to  be 
 borne  by  her  humbler  but  steadier  comrade 
 religion  J  whom,  on  most  other  occasions, 
 she  aff'ects  to  despise.  C.  CoUon. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY— Divine. 
 
 How  charming  is  Divine  philosophy! 
 
 Not  hai-sh  and  crabbed  as  dull  fools  suppose. 
 
 But  musical  as  is  Apollo's  lute, 
 
 And  a  perpetual  feast  of  nectar'd  sweets, 
 
 Where  no  crude  surfeit  reigns.         Hilton. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY -Limit  of. 
 
 When  philosophy  has  gone  as  far  as  she 
 is  able,  she  arrives  at  Almightiness,  and  in 
 that  labyrinth  is  lost;  wliere  not  knowing 
 the  way,  she  goes  on  by  guess  and  cannot 
 tell  whether  she  is  right  or  wrong ;  and 
 like  a  petty  river,  is  swallowed  up  in  the 
 boundless  ocean  of  Omnipotency. 
 
 Feltham. 
 PHILOSOPHY— Weakness  of. 
 
 Let  us  ask  Plato,  who  manifestly  la- 
 boured very  earnestly  to  free  himself  from 
 the  bands  of  fable  and  popular  prejudice. 
 Did  he,  on  the  wings  of  his  contemplations 
 and  longings,  rise  to  the  idea  of  creation  ? 
 No.  Plato  even  recognises  none  but  an 
 arranger  of  the  eternal  Hyle ;  he,  too, 
 dreamed  not  of  a  Creator  of  heaven  and 
 earth.  Aristotle,  who  strove  still  more 
 zealously  to  break  through  by  the  reason 
 ail  the  limits  of  sensuous  thought,  which 
 had  been  formed  in  the  po})ular  mind  with 
 reference  to  the  sublimestand  most  spiritual 
 objects,  when  he  proceeds  to  state  the 
 relation  of  the  Godhead  to  the  world, 
 abstains,  it  is  true,  from  every  expression 
 and  conception  which  were  con  ained  iu 
 the  mode  of  thinking  and  the  phraseology 
 of  the  people ;  but,  in  place  of  them,  what 
 does  he  himself  attain  to  ?  An  inability 
 to  establish  any  true  distinction  between 
 God  and  the  world,  consequently  the  idea 
 of  the  creation  mnst  have  remained  per- 
 fectly strange  to  him  also.       Baumga^'ten. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY  AND  DIVINITY. 
 
 He  that  seeks  philosophy  in  divinity 
 seeks  the  dead  among  the  living,  and  he 
 that   .seeks   divinity  in   philosophy,  seeks 
 
PIETY. 
 
 665 
 
 the  living  among  the  dead.  I  may  say,  as 
 the  angel  of  Christ,  Religion  is  not  here, 
 she  is  ritien.  Venning. 
 
 PIETY— a  Chain. 
 
 Piety  is  a  silver  chain  hanged  up  aloft, 
 which  ties  heaven  and  earth,  spiritual  and 
 temporal,  God  and  man  together. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 PIETY— Cieerfnl. 
 
 The  Rev.  J.  Wesley  had  not  a  particle 
 of  the  morbid  or  fanatical  in  his  nature, 
 and  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  "  de- 
 pressed." His  piety  was  as  serene  as  it 
 was  deep.  It  may  be  doubted  whether 
 there  was  ever  a  nature  greatly  and  richly 
 endowed  which  had  not  a  vein  of  humour 
 that  illuminated  even  its  more  serious 
 moods.  Wesley  had  this,  and  it  was  inti- 
 mately allied  witli  the  pathos  and  tender- 
 ness tiiat  melted  his  hearers,  or  the  faith- 
 fulness that  rebuked  sin  without  bitterness. 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 PIETY— Definition  of. 
 
 I  understand  piety  to  be  such  a  Divine 
 quickening  of  man's  soul,  mind,  intellect, 
 and  moral  affections,  that  even  his  passions 
 are  sanctified  and  sweetened,  so  that  all 
 his  powers  are  devoted  to  works  of  mercy 
 as  well  as  to  the  worship  of  God. 
 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 PIETY— Immortality  of. 
 
 Piety  gives  tp  its  possessor  a  twofold 
 immortality.  His  spirit  inherits  the  bless- 
 edness of  heaven.  His  influence  survives 
 his  dissolution,  and  may  go  down  to  many 
 generations.  The  Pharoahs  have  perished, 
 but  Moses  still  lives.  Ahab,  with  his 
 courtly  magnificence,  is  gone;  Elijah  has 
 survived  him,  though  a  poor  man.  Baby- 
 lon— with  its  monarchs,  its  temples,  its 
 palaces,  and  monuments — has  departed. 
 Daniel  still  remains.  Piety  thus  invests 
 the  humblest  man  with  a  dignity  and 
 power  which  may  survive  the  downfall  of 
 the  proudest  empires,  and  the  noblest 
 monuments  of  time.  J.  Q.  Hughes. 
 
 PIETY— Influence  of. 
 
 Sir  jVIatthew  Hale  found  that  prayer 
 gave  a  "  tincture  of  devotion "  to  all 
 secidar  employments;  that  "it  was  a 
 Christian  chemistry,  converting  those  acts 
 which  are  materially  natural  and  civil, 
 into  acts  truly  and  formally  religious, 
 whereby  all  life  is  rendered  interpretatively 
 a  service  to  Almighty  God."  He  discovered 
 in  habitual  devotion  what  Herbert  calls 
 "  the  elixir  "  of  life. 
 
 "  This  is  the  famous  stone 
 That  turneth  all  to  gold ; 
 For  that  which  God  dotli  touch  and  own 
 Cannot  for  less  be  told." 
 
 And  amidst  the  cares,  and  troubles,  and 
 vexations,  and  sorrows  of  secular  life,  his 
 fervent  spirit  was  a  consolation  and  a  joy; 
 "  a  sun  that  gave  light  in  the  midst  of 
 darkness,  a  fortress  that  kept  safe  in  the 
 greatest  danger,  that  never  could  be  taken 
 unless  self-betrayed."  He  found  the  fear 
 of  God,  like  the  tree  put  by  Moses  into  the 
 waters ;  it  cures,  he  says,  the  disorders  and 
 uneasiness  of  all  conditions.  A  conscience 
 full  of  peace  he  pronounces  "  a  Goshen  to 
 and  within  itself,  when  the  rest  of  the 
 world  without  and  round  about  a  man  is 
 like  an  Egypt  for  plagues  and  darkness." 
 To  lose  this,  he  said,  is  like  Samson  "to 
 lose  the  lock  wherein,  next  to  God,  our 
 strength  lieth."  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 PIETY— Pleasiires  of. 
 
 The  pleasures  of  piety  are  infinitely 
 more  extjuisite  than  those  of  fashion  and 
 of  sensual  pursuits.  It  is  true  they  are 
 not  so  violent,  or  so  intoxicating  (for  they 
 consist  in  one  even  tenor  of  mind,  a  light- 
 ness of  heart,  and  sober  cheerfulness, 
 which  none  but  those  who  have  expe- 
 rienced can  conceive) ;  but  they  leave  no 
 sting  behind  them  :  they  give  pleasure  on 
 reflection,  and  will  soothe  the  mind  in  the 
 distant  prospect.  And  who  can  say  this 
 of  the  world  or  its  enjoyments  ? 
 
 H.  K.  White. 
 PIETY— Practical. 
 
 Practical  piety  may  be  defined  as  living, 
 not  according  to  self-will,  impulse,  passion, 
 or  temptation — according  to  the  many  in- 
 fluences which  have  some  men's  souls  at 
 their  mercy — but  it  is  living  according  to 
 God's  rules.  It  is  the  consciousness  of 
 something  above  ourselves,  greater  than 
 ourselves,  diviner  than  ourselves,  to  which 
 we  are  to  be  ever  subject,  and  by  which 
 the  course  of  our  thoughts,  and  feelings, 
 and  actions  is  to  be  shaped,  and  the  calm, 
 devout  determination  to  live  accordingly. 
 
 J.  Stoughton. 
 PIETY— in  the  Soul. 
 
 True  piety  is  a  principle  of  order  in  the 
 soul — a  beautiful  and  strong  axis  by  which 
 it  is  ever  borne  up,  and  on  which  it  turns 
 in  harmony  with  the  music  of  the  spheres. 
 It  is  YAie  the  great  law  of  attraction,  main- 
 taining the  soul's  activity,  and  keeping  the 
 soul  in  its  place:  wheeling  it  in  quiet  but 
 rapid  motion,  and  ever  keeping  it  in  a 
 measured  circle  round  the  throne  of  God, 
 its  centre  and  its  sun.  Ibid. 
 
 PIETY— True. 
 
 True  piety  is  like  the  vestal  fire,  which 
 was  intended  to  burn  day  and  night,  and 
 never  to  go  out,  and  which  never  did  go 
 out,  GO  long  as  they  remembered  to  re- 
 plenish it  day  by  day.       Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
PITT— PLEASURE. 
 
 PITY— Description  of. 
 
 Pity  is  a  mode,  or  particular  develop- 
 ment, of  benevolence.  It  is  sympathy  for 
 persons  on  account  of  weakness,  or  suffer- 
 ing. It  is  not  mere  compassion,  but  is 
 mingled  with  a  desire  to  aid  and  relieve. 
 Pity  and  compassion  are  the  antitheses  of 
 those  affections  by  which  we  take  hold  of 
 men  who  are  good  and  lovely,  desirable  for 
 their  grace  of  nobleness  and  purity  ;  or  of 
 those  who  are  prosperous,  strong,  and 
 Lappy.  For  such,  to  be  sure,  we  have  a 
 lively  sympathy,  but  it  is  of  a  different 
 sort.  God  has  gladness  for  those  who  are 
 glad,  and  pity  for  those  who  are  sad. 
 
 R.  W.  BeecTier. 
 PITY— Tear  of. 
 
 No   radiant   pearl   which   crested    fortune 
 
 wears, 
 No    gem     that,    twinkling,    hangs    from 
 
 beauty's  ears. 
 Not  the  bright  stars  which  night's  blue 
 
 arch  adorn. 
 Nor  rising  suns  that  gild  the  vernal  morn. 
 Shine  with  such  lustre    as  the  tear  that 
 
 treaks 
 For    otiiers'   woe,    down    virtue's    manly 
 
 cheeks.  Darwin. 
 
 PITY  OF  GOD. 
 
 God's  pity  is  not  simply  pity — it  is  a 
 father's  fity. 
 
 If  a  man  be  found  weltering  by  the 
 road,  wounded,  and  a  stranger  comes  who 
 never  before  bad  even  seen  him,  he  will 
 fity  him.  No  matter,  if  born  under  a 
 different  heaven,  or  speaking  a  different 
 tongue,  or  worshipping  at  a  diff'erent  altar, 
 he  ]nties  him  ;  for  the  heart  of  man  speaks 
 one  language  the  world  over,  and  suffering 
 wakes  compassion. 
 
 But  if,  instead  of  being  a  stranger,  it 
 were  a  near  neighbour,  how  much  more 
 tender  the  pity  as  he  ran  to  his  help. 
 But  if,  instead  of  one  who  stood  only  in 
 the  offices  of  general  and  neighbourhood 
 kindness,  it  were  a  strong  personal  friend 
 — yea,  a  brother — how,  and  much  more 
 intense,  would  be  the  throbbing  emotion 
 of  tenderness  and  pity  ! 
 
 But  all  these  fade  away  before  the  wild 
 outcry  of  the  man's  own  fa'ther,  who  would 
 give  his  life  for  his  son,  and  who  gives 
 pity  now,  not  by  measure,  but  with  such  a 
 volume  that  it  is  as  if  a  soul  were  gush- 
 ing out  in  all  its  life  ! 
 
 But  the  noblest  heart  on  earth  is  but  a 
 trickling  stream  from  a  faint  and  shallow 
 fountain,  compared  with  the  ineffable  soul 
 and  heart  of  God,  the  Everlasting  Father. 
 The  pity  of  God  is  like  a  father's,  in  all 
 that  is  tender,  strong,  and  full,  but  not  in 
 scope  and  power.  For  every  one  of  God's 
 feelings  moves  in  the  sphere  of  the  in- 
 finite.    His   pity   has   all   the   scope   and 
 
 Divinity  which  belong  to  power,  wisdom, 
 justice !  Yea,  power,  wisdom,  and  justice 
 are  God's  lesser  ways,  and  come  toward 
 that  side  where  would  be  restriction,  if 
 anywhere,  while  love  and  mercy  are  God's 
 peculiar  glory.  In  these  He  finds  the 
 most  glorious  liberty  of  the  Divine  nature. 
 S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 PITY  OP  GOD— Vastness  of  the. 
 
 God's  pity  is  not  as  some  sweet  cordial, 
 poured  in  dainty  drops  from  some  golden 
 ))hial.  It  is  not  like  the  musical  water- 
 drops  of  some  slender  rill,  murmuring 
 down  the  dark  sides  of  Mount  Sinai.  It 
 is  wide  as  the  whole  scope  of  heaven.  It 
 is  abundant  as  all  the  air.  If  one  had  art 
 to  gather  up  all  the  golden  sunlight  that 
 to-day  falls  wide  over  all  this  continent — 
 falling  through  every  silent  hour,  and  all 
 that  is  dispersed  over  the  whole  ocean 
 flashing  from  every  wave,  and  all  that  is 
 poured  refulgent  over  the  northern  wastes 
 of  ice,  and  along  the  whole  continent  of 
 Europe,  and  the  vast  outlying  Asia,  and 
 torrid  Africa;  if  one  could  in  anywise 
 gather  up  this  immense  and  incalculable 
 outflow  and  treasure  of  sunlight  that  falls 
 down  through  the  bright  hours,  and  runs 
 in  liquid  ether  about  the  mountains,  and 
 fills  all  the  plains,  and  sends  innumerable 
 rays  through  every  secret  place,  pouring 
 over  and  filling  evei'y  flower,  shining  down 
 the  sides  of  every  blade  of  giass,  resting 
 in  glorious  humility  upon  the  humblest 
 things — on  stick,  and  stone,  and  pebble; 
 on  the  spider's  web,  the  sparrow's  nest, 
 the  threshold  of  the  young  fox's  hole, 
 where  they  play  and  warm  themselves — • 
 that  rests  on  the  prisoner's  window,  that 
 strikes  radiant  beams  through  the  slave's 
 teai',  that  puts  gold  upon  the  widow's 
 weeds,  that  plates  and  roofs  the  city  with 
 burnished  gold,  and  goes  on  in  its  wild 
 abundance  up  and  down  the  earth,  shining 
 everywhere  and  always  since  the  day  of 
 primal  creation,  without  faltering,  with- 
 out stint,  without  waste  or  diminution,  as 
 full,  as  fresh,  as  overflowing  to-day,  as  if  it 
 were  the  first  day  of  its  outplay!  If  one 
 might  gather  up  this  boundless,  endless, 
 infinite  treasure,  to  measure  it,  then  might 
 he  tell  the  height,  and  depth,  and  unend- 
 ing glory  of  the  pity  of  God  !  In  light — 
 in  the  sun,  its  source — you  have  God's 
 own  figure  of  the  immensity  and  copious- 
 ness of  His  mercy  and  compassion  (Ps. 
 kxxiv,  11,  12 ;  Is.  Iv,  6—13).  Ibid. 
 
 PLEASURE— not  Attainable. 
 
 As  alehymists  spend  that  small  modicum 
 tbey  have  to  get  gold,  and  never  find  it,  so 
 we  lose  and  neglect  eternity  for  a  little 
 momentary  pleasure  which  we  cannot  en- 
 joy, nor  shall  we  ever  attain  to  in  this  life. 
 Burton. 
 
PLEASURE— PLEONASM. 
 
 PLEASURE— Bought. 
 
 All  pleasure  must  be  houglit  at  the  price 
 of  pain  :  the  ditt'erence  between  false  and 
 true  is  just  this — for  the  true,  the  price  is 
 paid  before  you  enjoy  it — for  the  false, 
 after  you  enjoy  it.  J.  Fonter. 
 
 PLEASURE— Deception  of. 
 
 I  have  sat  upon  the  shore,  and  waited 
 for  the  gradual  approach  of  the  sea,  and 
 have  seen  its  dancing  waves  and  white 
 surf,  and  admired  that  He  who  measured 
 it  with  His  hand  had  given  to  it  such  life 
 and  motion;  and  I  have  lingered  till  its 
 gentle  waters  grew  into  billows,  and  had 
 well  nigh  swept  me  from  my  firmest  foot- 
 ing. So  have  I  seen  a  heedless  youth 
 gazing  with  a  too  curious  spirit  upon  the 
 sweet  motions  and  gentle  approaches  of  an 
 inviting  pleasure,  till  it  has  detained  his 
 eye  and  imprisoned  his  feet,  and  swelled 
 upon  his  soul,  and  swept  him  to  a  swift 
 destruction.  Hon.  Mrs.  Montague. 
 
 Pleasure  is  the  fatal  rock  which  most  have 
 
 split  on ; 
 For  men,  bewitch'd  by  the  curs'd  syren's 
 
 voice, 
 Sail  on  regardless  till  they  strike  on  ruin. 
 Savage. 
 PLEASURE— Excess  of. 
 
 The  laying  in  a  soft  down  bed  is  easy, 
 and  comfortable,  and  delightful;  but  if 
 one  were  condemned  to  this  for  forty 
 years  together,  and  never  to  come  out,  it 
 would  be  a  torment.  It  is  so  with  all  the 
 pleasures  of  this  world. 
 
 Jeremiah  Burroughs. 
 
 PLEASURE— associated  with  Pain. 
 
 It  is  a  hard  thing  for  a  man  to  find 
 weariness  in  pleasure,  while  it  lasteth ;  or 
 contentment  in  pain,  while  he  is  under  it. 
 After  both,  indeed,  it  is  easy  :  yet  both  of 
 these  must  be  found  in  both ;  or  else  we 
 shall  be  drunken  with  pleasures,  and  over- 
 whelmed with  sorrow.  As  those,  there- 
 fore, which  should  eat  some  dish  over- 
 deliciously  sweet,  do  allay  it  with  tart 
 sauce,  that  they  may  not  be  cloyed  ;  and 
 those  that  are  to  receive  bitter  pills  (that 
 they  may  not  be  annoyed  with  their  un- 
 pleasing  taste)  roll  them  in  sugar ;  so  in 
 all  pleasures  it  is  best  to  labour,  not  how 
 to  make  them  most  delightful,  but  how  to 
 moderate  them  from  excess ;  and  in  all 
 sorrows,  so  to  settle  our  hearts  in  true 
 grounds  of  comfort,  that  we  may  not  care 
 so  much  for  being  bemoaned  of  others, 
 as  how  to  be  most  contented  in  ourselves. 
 
 £p.  Sail. 
 PLEASURE— Short-lived. 
 
 The  roses  of  pleasure  seldom  last  long 
 enough  to  adorn  the  brow  of  him  who 
 plucks  them,  and  they  are  the  only  roses 
 
 which  do  not  retain  their  sweetness  after 
 they  have  lost  their  beauty.  Blair, 
 
 PLEASURE— sought  by  AU. 
 Whate'er  the  motive,  pleasure  is  the  mark ; 
 For  her  the  black  assassin  draws  his  sword; 
 For  her  dark  statesmen  trim  their  midnight 
 
 lamp; 
 For    her   the    saint    abstains ;   the  miser 
 
 starves  ; 
 The    stoic    proud,   for  pleasure,   pleasure 
 
 scorns ; 
 For   her  affliction's   daughters    grief    in- 
 dulge. 
 And  find,  or  hope,  a  luxury  in  tears  ; — 
 For  her,  guilt,  shame,  toil,  danger,  we  defy. 
 Young. 
 PLEASURE— Tie  to. 
 The  spider's  most  attenuated  web 
 Is  cord — is  cable,  to  man's  tender  tie 
 Of  earthly  bliss  ;  it  breaks  at  every  breeze. 
 Ibid. 
 PLEASURES— Death  in. 
 
 Did  you  ever  read  of  the  bee  in  the 
 fable,  that  found  a  pot  of  honey  ready 
 made,  and  thought  it  would  be  fine  to  save 
 all  the  trouble  of  flying  about  the  meadows 
 and  gathering  its  sweet  stores,  little  by 
 little,  out  of  the  cups  of  flowers,  and  began 
 to  sip  out  of  the  dish  ?  Then  it  went  in 
 and  revelled  in  the  sweets ;  but  when  it 
 began  to  get  tired  and  cloyed,  it  found, 
 poor  bee,  that  its  wings  were  all  clogged 
 and  would  not  open,  nor  could  it  drag  its 
 body  out  of  the  mass.  So  it  died,  buried 
 in  pleasure.  There  are  many  persons,  like 
 this  bee,  that  find  death  in  their  pleasures. 
 Dr.  Edmond. 
 
 Death  treads  en  pleasure's  footsteps  round 
 the  world. 
 
 When  pleasure  treads  the  path  which  reason 
 shuns, 
 
 When  against  reason  riot  shuts  the  door. 
 
 And  luxury  supplies  the  place  of  sense. 
 
 Young. 
 
 PLEASURES— Transient. 
 
 They  came,  they  went;  of  jjleasures  past 
 away, 
 
 How  oiten  this  is  all  that  we  can  say; 
 
 They  came  like  dewdrops  in  the  morning 
 hour, 
 
 They  went  like  dew  drops  'neath  the  noon- 
 tide power : 
 
 Came  like  the  cistus  with  its  purple  eye. 
 
 Went  like  the  cistus,  blooming  but  to  die; 
 
 Unheeded  in  their  flight  they  glided  past. 
 
 We  sighed  not,  for  we  knew  not  'twas  the 
 last.  R.  Montgomery. 
 
 PLEONASM— Description  of. 
 
 Pleonasm  encumbers  ideas  with  a 
 plethora  of  words  often  fatal  to  their  sense. 
 This  fault  assumes  two  forms,  the  vulgar 
 and  the  fastidious.    Vulgar  grandiloquence 
 
COS 
 
 POETEY— POLYGAMY. 
 
 employ's  fine  words  with  the  clrollest  inrlifTe- 
 rence  to  their  sense,  so  that  they  sound 
 scliolarly.  A  Caribbee  chief  paid  a  visit 
 of  state  on  board  a  man-of-war,  in  a  state 
 of  sable  nudity,  except  a  midshipman's 
 jacket,  whose  gold  braiding  had  attracted 
 tlie  savage,  but  illustrated  his  nakedness 
 more  strikingly  than  if  he  had  simply 
 appeared  in  his  Indian  mat  and  native 
 costume.  In  the  same  way  the  illiterate 
 expose  themselves  by  the  inaccurate  use  of 
 fine  phrases  beyond  their  understanding, 
 and  aggravate  the  ignorance  which  they 
 attempt  to  conceal.  Thus  the  distin- 
 guished geographer  who  tells  us  "he  is 
 jist  returned  from  the  auti\wdat/s"  being 
 asked  from  where  ?  repeats,  with  some 
 pity  for  your  ignorance,  but  a  slight  doubt 
 of  his  pronunciation,  "  from  the  anti- 
 podes,"  would  have  passed  for  a  better 
 scholar  if  he  had  let  alone  the  antipodes 
 and  named  Australia.  The  portly  widow 
 who  describes  her  sensations  of  lethargy 
 as  "suffering  from  the  liturgy,"  or  the 
 pert  charity  hoy,  who  confounds  St.  Bar- 
 nabas of  Pimlico  with  St.  Baralbas  of 
 Jericho,  are  examples  of  the  dangers  of 
 unknown  phraseology.  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 POETSY— Benefits  of. 
 
 Poetry  has  been  to  me  "its  own  ex- 
 ceeding great  reward  ;"  it  has  soothed  my 
 atliictions;  it  has  multiplied  and  refined 
 my  enjoyments ;  it  has  endeared  solitude  ; 
 and  it  has  given  me  the  habit  of  wishing 
 to  discover  the  good  and  the  beautiful  in 
 all  that  meets  and  surrounds  me. 
 
 J.  T.  Coleridge. 
 POETRY— Best. 
 
 The  best  of  poetry  is  ever  in  alliance 
 with  real  uncorrupted. Christianity ;  and 
 with  the  degeneracy  of  tlie  one  always 
 comes  the  decline  of  the  other ;  for  it  is  to 
 Christianity  that  we  owe  the  fullest  inspi- 
 rations of  the  celestial  spirit  of  poetry. 
 
 J.  A.  tit.  John. 
 POETRY— Definition  of. 
 
 It  is  the  natural  language  of  excited 
 feeling  ;  and  a  work  of  imagination  wrought 
 into  form  by  art.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 POETRY— Description  of. 
 
 In  the  specific  or  technical  sense,  by 
 poetry  we  mean  the  expression  in  wo'ds, 
 most  appropriately  metrical  words,  of  the 
 trutlis  of  imagination  and  feeling.  But 
 in  the  generic  and  larger  sense,  poetry  is 
 the  expression  of  imaginative  truth  in  any 
 form,  provided  only  that  it  be  symbolic, 
 suggestive,  and  indirect.  Hence  there  is  a 
 poetry  of  sculpture,  architecture,  painting ; 
 and  hence  all  nature  is  poetical,  because  it 
 is  the  form  in  which  the  eternal  feeling 
 has  clothed  itself  with  infinite  suggestive- 
 ness.  Hid. 
 
 POETRY— Perverted. 
 
 Poetry  should  be  an  alterative ;  modern 
 play-wrights  have  converted  it  into  a  seda- 
 tive, which  they  administer  in  such  un- 
 seasonable quantities  that,  like  an  over- 
 dose of  opium,  it  makes  one  sick.       Hare. 
 
 POETRY— a  Sauce. 
 
 Poetry  is  music  in  words ;  and  music  is 
 poetry  in  sound ;  both  excellent  sauce : 
 but  they  have  lived  and  died  poor,  that 
 made  them  their  meat.  T.  Fuller. 
 
 POETRY— Source  of. 
 
 The  very  source  of  true  poetry  is  love — 
 a  divine  glow  and  vision,  conscious  of  the 
 radiant  glories  belonging  to  all  surrounding 
 things  in  God's  creation,  whether  in  the 
 heavens  above  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  cr 
 in  the  waters  under  the  earth. 
 
 J.  A.  St.  John. 
 POLITENESS— True. 
 
 True  politeness  is  not  wholly  made  up 
 of  graceful  mannei'S,  and  courtly  conversa- 
 tion, and  a  strict  adherence  to  the  rules  of 
 fasl)ion,  however  agreeable  these  may  be. 
 It  is  something  less  superficial  than  these 
 accomplishments.  Genuine  courtesy  grows 
 out  of  an  assiduous  self-denial,  and  a  constant 
 consideration  of  the  happiness  of  others. 
 The  forms  and  usages  of  etiquette  derive 
 all  their  beauty  and  significance  from  the 
 fact  that  each  of  them  requires  the  sacrifice 
 of  one's  own  ease  and  convenience  to 
 another's  comfort.  St.  Paul,  who,  before 
 Felix  and  Agrippa,  and  even  when  the 
 object  of  the  abuse  and  insult  of  the  Jewish 
 mob,  showed  what  should  be  the  conduct 
 of  a  true  gentleman,  has  included  all  of 
 refinement  in  these  few  words,  "  In  honour 
 preferring  one  another."  How  noble  does 
 the  same  principle  appear  in  the  words  of 
 the  chivalrous  Sir  Philip  Sydney,  who, 
 when  he  lay  wounded  on  the  battle-field 
 and  was  ofl'ered  a  cup  of  cold  water,  mo- 
 tioned it  to  a  sufi'ering  soldier  at  his  slde^ 
 and  said,  "This  man's  necessity  is  gieator 
 than  mine !"  Anon. 
 
 POLYGAMY— Definition  of. 
 
 Polygamy  is  the  state  of  having  more 
 wives  than  one  at  once.  C.  Buck. 
 
 POLYGAMY- Evils  of. 
 
 Polygamy  not  only  violates  the  consti- 
 tution of  nature,  and  the  apparent  design 
 of  the  Deity,  but  produces  to  the  parties 
 themselves,  and  to  the  public,  the  follow- 
 ing had  effects  :— Contests  and  jealousies 
 amongst  the  wives  of  the  same  husband  j 
 distracted  affections,  or  the  loss  of  all  afiec- 
 tion  in  the  husband  himself;  a  voluptuous- 
 ness in  the  rich  w^hich  dissolves  the  vigour 
 of  their  intellectual  as  well  as  active 
 faculties,  producing  that    indolence    and 
 
POLYGAMY— FOVESTT. 
 
 669 
 
 imTjecility,  both  of  mhicl  and  body,  which 
 have  long  characterised  the  nations  of  the 
 East;  the  abasement  of  one  half  of  the 
 human  species,  who,  in  countries  where 
 jjolygamy  obtains,  are  degraded  into  instru- 
 ments of  physical  pleasure  to  the  other 
 half;  neglect  of  children;  and  the  mani- 
 fold and  sometimes  unnatural  mischiefs 
 which  arise  from  a  scarcity  of  women. 
 
 C.  Buclc. 
 POLYGAMY— Porbidden. 
 
 All  polygamy  is  clearly  forbidden  in  these 
 words,  wliurein  our  Lord  expressly  declares 
 — That  for  any  woman  who  has  a  husband 
 alive  to  marry  again,  is  adultery.  By 
 parity  of  reason,  it  is  adultery  for  any  man 
 to  marry  again  so  lon^  as  he  has  a  wife 
 alive.  Yea,  although  they  were  divorced  ; 
 unless  that  divorce  had  been  for  the  cause 
 of  adultery.  In  that  only  case  there  is  no 
 Scripture  which  forbids  the  innocent  person 
 to  marry  again.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 POOE— Pillaging  the. 
 
 The  nets  which  we  use  against  the  poor 
 are  just  those  worldly  embarrassments 
 which  either  their  ignorance  or  their  impro- 
 vidence are  almost  certain  at  some  time  or 
 other  to  bring  them  into  ;  then,  jnst  at  the 
 time  when  we  ought  to  hasten  to  help  them, 
 and  teach  them  how  to  manage  better  in 
 future,  we  rush  forward  to  jjillage  them, 
 and  force  all  we  can  out  of  them  in  their 
 adversity.  For,  to  take  one  instance  only, 
 remember  this  is  literally  and  simply  what 
 we  do  whenever  we  buy,  or  try  to  buy, 
 cheap  goods — goods  offered  at  a  price 
 which  we  know  cannot  be  remunerative 
 for  the  labour  involved  in  tkem.  When- 
 ever we  buy  such  goods,  remember,  we  are 
 stealing  somebody's  labour.  Don't  let  us 
 mince  the  matter.  I  say,  in  plain  Saxon, 
 STEALING — taking  from  him  the  proper 
 reward  of  his  work,  and  putting  it  into 
 our  own  pocket.  You  know  well  enough 
 that  the  thing  could  not  have  been  otTered 
 you  at  that  price  unless  distress  of  some 
 kind  had  forced  the  producer  to  part  with 
 it.  You  take  advantage  of  this  distress, 
 and  you  force  as  much  out  of  him  as  you 
 can  under  the  circumstances.  The  old 
 barons  of  the  middle  ages  used,  in  general, 
 the  thumbscrew  to  extort  property ;  we 
 moJerns  use  in  preference  hunger,  or 
 domestic  affliction  ;  but  the  fiict  of  extor- 
 tion remains  precisely  the  same.  Whether 
 we  force  the  man's  property  from  him  by 
 pinching  his  stomach,  or  pinching  his 
 fingers,  makes  some  difference  anatomi- 
 cally ; — morally  none  whatsoever. 
 
 Jtuskin. 
 POPES— "Wealth  and  "Weakness  of. 
 
 The  story  is  famous  of  the  discourse 
 betwixt  Pope  Innocent  IV,  and  Thonnis 
 Aif.iinas.     When  that  great  clerk  came  to 
 
 Rome,  and  looked  somewhat  amazedly  upon 
 the  mass  of  plate  and  treasure  which  he 
 saw :  "  Lo,"  said  the  Pope,  "  you  see, 
 Thomas,  we  cannot  say  as  St.  Peter  did  of 
 old,  "  Silver  and  gold  have  we  none.'  " 
 "  No,"  said  Aquinas,  "  neither  can  you 
 command,  as  he  did,  the  lame  man  to  arise 
 and  walk."  JB'p.  Hall. 
 
 POPULARITY— Changeableness  of. 
 
 The  noisy  praise 
 Of  giddy  crowds  is  changeable  as  winds  ; 
 Still  vehement,  and  still  without  a  cause  ; 
 Servant  to   change,  and  blowing   in  the 
 
 tide 
 Of  swoln   success;    but  veering  with  the 
 
 ebb. 
 It  leaves  the  channel  dry.  Dryclen. 
 
 POPULAEITY— Excitement  of. 
 
 Some  shout  him,  and  some  hang  upon  his 
 
 ear, 
 To  gaze  in  's  eyes  and  bless  him.     Maidens 
 
 wave 
 T'neir  'kerchiefs,  and  old  women  weep  for 
 
 .I'oy ; 
 
 While  others,  not  so  satisfied,  unhorse 
 The  gilded  equipage,  and,  turning  loose 
 His  steeds,  usurp  a  place  they  well  deserve. 
 Cowper. 
 POPULARITY— Kinds  of. 
 
 The  only  popularity  worth  aspiring 
 after  is  a  peaceful  popularity — the  popu- 
 larity of  the  heart — the  popularity  that  is 
 won  in  the  bosom  of  families  and  at  the 
 side  of  death-beds.  Tliere  is  another,  a 
 high,  and  a  far-sounding  popularity,  which 
 is  indeed  a  most  worthless  article,  felt  by 
 all  who  have  it  most  to  be  greatly  more 
 oppressive  than  gratifying, — a  popularity 
 of  stare,  and  pressure,  and  animal  heat,  and 
 a  whole  tribe  of  other  annoyances  which  it 
 brings  around  the  person  of  its  unfortunate 
 victim,  a  popularity  which  rifles  home  of 
 its  sweets,  and,  by  elevating  a  man  above 
 his  fellows,  places  him  in  a  region  of  deso- 
 lation, where  the  intimacies  of  human  fel- 
 lowship are  unfelt,  and  where  he  stands  a 
 conspicuous  mark  for  the  shafts  of  malice, 
 and  envy,  and  detraction, — a  popularity 
 which,  with  its  head  among  storms,  and  its 
 feet  on  the  treacherous  quicksands,  has 
 nothing  to  lull  the  agonies  of  its  tottering- 
 existence  but  the  hosannahs  of  a  drivelling 
 generation.  Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 P0"7ERTY— Concealing. 
 
 If  rich,  it  is  easy  enough  to  conceal  our 
 wealth;  but  if  poor,  it  is  not  quite  so  easy 
 to  conceal  our  poverty.  We  shall  find 
 that  it  is  less  difficult  to  hide  a  thousand 
 guineas  than  one  hole  in  our  coat. 
 
 C.  Colion. 
 POVERTY— an  Evil. 
 
 Poverty  is  a  great  evil  in  any  state  of 
 
670 
 
 POVERTY— POWER. 
 
 life ;  but  poverty  is  never  felt  so  severely 
 as  by  those  who  have,  to  use  a  common 
 phrase,  "  seen  better  days."  The  poverty 
 of  the  poor  is  misery,  but  it  is  endurable 
 misery ;  it  can  bear  the  sight  of  men.  The 
 poverty  of  the  formerly  affluent  is  unen- 
 durable ;  it  avoids  the  light  of  the  day, 
 and  shuns  the  sympathy  of  those  who 
 woukl  relieve  it ;  it  preys  upon  the  heart, 
 and  corrodes  the  mind;  it  screws  up  every 
 nerve  to  sucii  an  extremity  of  tension,  that 
 one  cool  look — the  averted  eye  even  of  a 
 casual  acquaintance  known  in  prosperity — 
 snaps  the  cord  at  once,  and  leaves  the 
 self-despised  object  of  it  a  mere  wreck  of 
 man.  Owgan. 
 
 POVERTY— Nature  of. 
 
 That  man  is  to  be  accounted  poor,  of 
 whatever  rank  he  be,  and  suffers  the  pains 
 of  poverty,  whose  expenses  exceed  his 
 resources  ;  and  no  man  is,  properly  speak- 
 ing, poor,  but  he.  Paley. 
 
 Poverty  is  that  state  or  situation,  opposed 
 to  riches,  in  which  we  are  deprived  of  the 
 conveniences  of  life.  Indigence  is  a  degree 
 lower,  where  we  want  the  necessaries,  and 
 is  opposed  to  superjluity.  Want  seems 
 rather  to  arrive  by  accident,  implies  a 
 scarcity  of  provision  rather  than  a  lack  of 
 money,  and  is  opposed  to  abundance.  Need 
 and  necessity  relate  less  to  the  situation  of 
 life  than  the  other  three  words,  but  more 
 to  the  relief  we  expect,  or  the  remedy  we 
 seek ;  with  this  difference  between  the 
 two,  that  need  seems  less  pressing  than 
 necessity.  C.  Buck. 
 
 POVERTY— Piety  with. 
 
 If  an  angel  were  sent  from  heaven  to 
 find  the  most  perfect  man,  he  would  not 
 probably  find  him  composing  a  body  of 
 divinity,  but  perhaps  a  cripple  in  a  poor- 
 house,  whom  the  parish  wish  dead,  and 
 humbled  before  God  with  far  lower  thought 
 of  himself  than  others  think  of  him. 
 
 J.  Neioton. 
 POVERTY— Protection  of. 
 Wealthy  men,  that  have  estates  to  lose, 
 Whose  conscious  thoughts  [horror 
 
 Are  full  of  inward  guilt,  may  shake  with 
 To  have  their  actions  sifted,  or  appear 
 Before   their  judge;    but  the   poor  that 
 
 know  themselves 
 As  innocent  as  poor,  that  have  no  fleece 
 On  which  the  talons  of  the  griping  law 
 Can  take  sure  hold,  may  smile  with  scorn 
 
 on  all 
 That  can  be  urged  against  them. 
 
 Beaumont. 
 POVERTY— Sin  causes. 
 
 Poverty  is  very  frequently  the  direct 
 effect  and  consequent  of  sin  and  vice.  The 
 drunkard   drinks  otl"  his    estate,   like    his 
 
 cups,  to  the  very  bottom,  and  leaves  no- 
 thing behind.  The  vain-glorious  man 
 wears  his  fortunes  upon  his  back,  till  at 
 length  he  has  worn  them  out.  The  con- 
 tentious man  follows  the  law  against  his 
 neighbour,  for  the  gratification  of  his  re- 
 vengeful humour,  so  long,  that  in  the  end 
 the  very  obtaining  of  the  cause  does  not 
 defray  the  charges,  or  remove  the  poverty 
 contracted  by  its  prosecution. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 POVERTY  AND  RICHES. 
 
 There  is  no  such  odds  in  poverty  and 
 riches.  To  quote  Hierom's  words,  "  I  will 
 ask  our  magnlticoes  that  build  with  marble, 
 and  bestow  a  whole  manor  on  a  thread, 
 what  difference  between  them  and  Paul 
 the  Eremite,  that  bare  old  man  ?  They 
 drink  in  jewels,  he  in  his  hand;  he  is 
 poor  and  goes  to  heaven;  they  are  rich 
 and  go  to  hell."  Burton, 
 
 POVERTY  OP  SPIRIT. 
 
 This  consists  in  an  inward  sense  and 
 feeling  of  our  wants  and  defects;  a  con- 
 viction of  our  wretched  and  forlorn  con- 
 dition by  virtue;  with  a  dependence  on 
 Divine  grace  and  mercy  for  pardon  and 
 acceptance  (Matt,  v,  3).  It  must  be  dis- 
 tinguished from  a  poor-spiritedness,  a 
 sneaking  fearfulness  which  bringeth  a 
 snare.  It  is  the  effect  of  the  operation  of 
 the  Divine  Spirit  on  the  heart  (John  xvi, 
 8),  is  attended  with  submission  to  the 
 Divine  will ;  contentment  in  our  situation ; 
 meekness  and  forbearance  as  to  others,  and 
 genuine  humility  as  to  ourselves.  It  is  a 
 spirit  approved  of  by  God,  evidential  of 
 true  religion,  and  terminates  in  endless 
 felicity.  C.  Buck, 
 
 POWER— an  Abstraction. 
 
 Power  in  itself  is  an  abstraction.  We 
 can  never  see  it,  we  cannot  hear  it,  we 
 cannot  feel  it,  we  caimot  taste  it,  we  can- 
 not smell  it.  We  witness  its  results  every- 
 where. I  see  now  the  train  moving;  it  is 
 not  power  itself,  but  an  evidence  of  it.  I 
 heard  the  thunder  roaring;  it  was  not 
 power  in  itself,  but  the  consequence  of  it. 
 I  am  thrown  down  by  some  force ;  it  is 
 the  result  of  some  invisible  power.  The 
 mind  may  influence,  through  various  medi- 
 ums, the  objects  of  its  operations  into 
 tears,  laughter,  joy,  or  misery  ;  all  this  is 
 the  result  of  power.  All  forms  of  power 
 in  themselves  are  equally  invisible;  power 
 is  alone  known  in  its  agents  and  results. 
 
 T.  Hughes. 
 POWER— Aspiration  after. 
 Power !  'tis  the  fiivorite  attribute  of  gods, 
 Who  look  with  smiles  on  men   who  can 
 
 aspire 
 To  copy  them.  Mariyn. 
 
POWER— POWER  AND  STRENGTH. 
 
 671 
 
 POWER— Intoxication  of. 
 
 Power  will  intoxicate  the  best  hearts, 
 as  wine  the  strongest  heads.  No  man  is 
 wise  enough  nor  good  enough  to  be 
 trusted  with  inilimited  power ;  for  what- 
 ever qualifications  he  may  have  evinced  to 
 entitle  him  to  the  possession  of  so  danger- 
 ous a  privilege,  yet  when  possessed,  others 
 can  no  longer  answer  for  him,  because  he 
 can  no  longer  answer  for  himself. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 POWER— Moral. 
 
 Moral  power;  by  this  we  mean  the 
 power  of  a  life  and  a  character,  the  power 
 of  good  and  great  purposes,  that  power 
 which  comes  at  length  to  reside  in  a  man 
 distinguished  in  some  course  of  estimable 
 or  great  conduct.  It  is  often  this  which 
 dignifies  the  great  senator,  so  as  to  make 
 even  his  common  words,  words  of  gi-ave 
 wisdom,  or  perchance  of  high  eloquence. 
 It  is  this  which  gives  a  power  so  mysterious 
 often  to  the  preacher  of  Christ,  such  a 
 power  that  even  his  presence  in  any  place 
 will  begin  to  disturb  the  conscience  of 
 many  even  before  they  have  heard  him. 
 No  other  power  of  man  compares  with 
 this,  and  there  is  no  individual  who  may 
 not  be  measurably  invested  with  it. 
 
 Dr.  Bushnell. 
 POWER— Pains  of. 
 
 To  know  the  pains  of  power,  we  must 
 go  to  those  who  have  it;  to  know  its 
 pleasures,  we  must  go  to  those  who  are 
 seeking  it :  the  pains  of  power  are  real,  its 
 pleasures  imaginary.  C.  Colton. 
 
 POWER— Spiritual. 
 
 When  a  lecturer  on  electricity  wants  to 
 show  an  example  of  a  human  body  sur- 
 charged with  his  fire,  he  places  a  person 
 on  a  stool  with  glass  legs.  The  glass 
 serves  to  isolate  hini  from  the  earth,  be- 
 cause it  will  not  conduct  fire — the  electric 
 fluid  ;  were  it  not  for  this,  however  much 
 might  be  poured  into  his  frame,  it  would 
 be  carried  away  by  the  earth ;  but  when 
 thus  isolated  from  it,  he  retains  all  that 
 enters  him.  You  see  no  fire,  you  hear  no 
 fire  ;  but  you  are  told  that  it  is  pouring 
 into  him.  Presently  you  are  challenged 
 to  the  proof — asked  to  come  near,  and  hold 
 your  hand  close  to  his  person  ;  when  you 
 do  so,  a  spark  of  fire  shoots  out  towards 
 you.  If  thou,  then,  wouldest  have  thy 
 soul  surcharged  with  the  fire  of  God,  so 
 that  those  who  come  nigh  to  thee  shall 
 feel  some  myslerious  influence  proceeding 
 out  from  thee,  thou  must  draw  nigh  to 
 the  source  of  that  fire,  to  the  throne  of 
 God  and  of  the  Lamb,  and  shut  thyself 
 out  from  the  world — that  cold  world  which 
 so  swiftly  steals  our  fire  away.  Enter 
 into  thy  closet,  and  shut  to  thy  door,  and 
 there,  isolated  before   the  throne,  await  I 
 
 the  baptism ;  then  the  fire  shall  fill  thee, 
 and  when  thou  comest  forth,  holy  power 
 will  attend  thee,  and  thou  shalt  labour, 
 not  in  thine  own  strength,  but  with  de- 
 monstration of  the  Spirit  and  with  power. 
 W.  Arthur. 
 POWER  OF  MAN. 
 
 The  sea  cannot  roll  up  the  mountain 
 however  furious  its  rage  may  become ;  it 
 must  lie  in  its  own  bed.  Neither  suns, 
 stars,  nor  comets,  have  power  in  them- 
 selves to  sweep  an  inch  out  of  their  or- 
 bits. The  mightiest  animal  of  sea  or  land 
 has  no  power  to  act  contrary  to  the  strong 
 law  of  instinct.  But  man  has  the  power 
 to  overstep  the  moral  boundary  of  his 
 being — to  fly  from  his  appointed  orbit;  he 
 can  deviate  from  truth,  justice,  benevo- 
 lence, and  piety.  The  great  sun  cannot 
 say  No  to  its  Maker ;  a  child  may,  and 
 ioes.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 He  conquers  the  sea  and  its  storms.  He 
 climbs  the  heavens,  and  searches  out  the 
 mysteries  of  the  stars.  He  harnesses  the 
 lightning.  He  bids  the  rocks  dissolve, 
 and  summons  the  secret  atoms  to  give  up 
 their  names  and  laws.  He  subdues  the 
 face  of  the  world,  and  compels  the  forces 
 of  the  waters  and  the  fires  to  be  his  ser- 
 vants. He  makes  laws,  hurls  empires  down 
 upon  empires  in  the  fields  of  war,  speaks 
 words  that  cannot  die,  sings  to  distant 
 realms  and  peoples  across  vast  ages  of 
 time ;  in  a  word,  he  executes  all  that  is 
 included  in  history,  showing  his  tremen- 
 dous energy  in  almost  everything  that 
 stirs  the  silence,  and  changes  the  con- 
 ditions of  the  world.  Everything  is  trans- 
 formed by  him  even  up  to  the  stars.  Not 
 all  the  winds,  and  storms,  and  earthquakes, 
 and  seas,  and  seasons  of  the  world,  have 
 done  so  much  to  revolutionise  the  world 
 as  he  has  done  since  the  day  he  came 
 forth  upon  it,  and  received,  as  he  is  most 
 truly  declared  to  have  done,  dominion  over 
 it.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 POWER  AND  STRENGTH. 
 
 Power  is  either  physical  or  niental,  pub- 
 lic or  private;  in  the  former  case,  it  is 
 synonymous  with  strength,  in  the  latter 
 with  authority.  Power  in  the  physical 
 sense  respects  whatever  causes  motion; 
 strength  respects  that  species  o^ power  that 
 lies  in  the  vital  and  muscular  parts  of  the 
 body.  Strength,  therefore,  is  internal,  and 
 depends  upon  the  internal  organization  of 
 the  frame ;  power  on  the  external  circum- 
 stances. A  man  may  have  strength  to 
 move,  but  not  the  power  if  he  be  bound 
 with  cords.  Our  strength  is  proportioned 
 to  the  health  of  the  body,  and  the  firm- 
 ness of  its  make ;  our  power  may  be  in- 
 creased by  the  help  of  instruments. 
 
 Q.  Crabb. 
 
672 
 
 PRAISE. 
 
 PEillSE— Definition  of. 
 
 Praise  is  tlie  retlectiou  of  virtue. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 PRAISE— from  a  Friend. 
 Praise  tVoin  tliy  lips.     Wiiat  is  it  worth  to 
 
 me? 
 They  know,  who  know  the  worth  of  Fame — 
 
 a  star 
 Plucked  from  liigh  heaven,  to  set  upon  the 
 
 brow. 
 Speak  it  again,  for  it  is  sv/eet  to  hcnr 
 Praise  from  the  voice  we  love,  and  thine  is 
 
 soft 
 And  hath  a  toucli  of  tenderness,  as  'twere 
 A  gentle  flower  grown  musical. 
 
 Derozier. 
 PRAISE— a  Kelp  in  Trouble. 
 
 Praise  is  the  believer's  helper  in  his 
 trials,  and  his  companion  after  trial.  Je- 
 hoshaphat's  army  sang  praises  before  the 
 battle.  David  sang  praises  m  the  cave  ; 
 Daniel,  when  the  trap  was  set  for  his  life, 
 prayed. and  gave  thanks  three  times  a  day 
 as  usual :  and  Jesus,  when  He  would  raise 
 Lazarus,  first  lift  up  His  heart  in  thanks 
 to  the  Father;  and  before  He  went  to 
 supper,  first  sang  a  hymn.  So  is  praise 
 also  our  solace  after  ti-ial.  Music  is  sweetest 
 when  heard  over  rivers,  where  the  echo 
 thereof  is  best  reljounded  by  the  waters ; 
 and  praise  for  pensiveness,  thanks  for  tears, 
 blessing  God  over  the  floods  of  affliction, 
 makes  the  sweetest  music  in  the  ears  of 
 heaven.  A.  Fuller. 
 
 PRAISE— Kelps  of. 
 
 The  sailors  give  a  cheery  cry  as  they 
 weigh  anchor;  the  ploughman  whistles  in 
 the  morning  as  he  drives  his  team  ;  the 
 milkmaid  sings  her  rustic  song  as  she  sets 
 about  her  early  task ;  when  soldiers  are 
 leaving  friends  behind  them  they  do  not 
 march  out  to  the  tune  of  the  "  Dead 
 March  in  Saul,"  but  to  the  quick  notes  of 
 some  lively  air.  A  praising  spirit  would 
 do  for  us  all  that  their  songs  and  music  do 
 for  them  ;  and  if  only  we  could  determine 
 to  praise  the  Lord,  we  should  surmount 
 many  a  difficulty  which  our  low  spirits 
 never  would  have  been  equal  to,  and  we 
 should  do  double  the  work  which  can  be 
 done  if  the  heart  be  languid  in  its  beatings, 
 if  we  be  crushed  and  trodden  down  in 
 soul.  As  the  evil  spirit  in  Saul  yielded  in 
 olden  time  to  the  intiuence  of  the  harp  of 
 the  son  of  Jesse,  so  would  the  spirit  of 
 melancholy  often  taken  flight  from  us  if 
 only  we  would  take  up  the  song  of  praise. 
 
 F.  B.  Foiver. 
 PRAISE— Kuman. 
 
 The  praises  of  men  are  with  a  but,  and 
 
 an  exception.     Naaman  was  a  mighty  man, 
 
 but  a  leper;  such  an  one  is  so  and  so,  but; 
 
 fair,  but  foolish;  serious,  but  subtle,  &c. 
 
 I'ciiiiing. 
 
 PRAISE— Influence  of. 
 
 It  shall  often  happen  that  when  thy 
 heart  is  mumb  and  torpid,  and  yields  not 
 to  the  action  of  prayer,  it  shall  begin  to 
 thaw,  and  at  last  burst,  like  streams  under 
 the  breath  of  spring,  from  its  icy  prison 
 with  the  warm  and  genial  exercise  of 
 praise.  The  deaduess,  the  distractions 
 thou  deplorest,  shall  flee  away  as  the  harp 
 is  taken  down  from  the  willow,  and  strung 
 to  celebrate  the  Divine  perfections. 
 
 Dr.  Goulburn. 
 PRAISE— Kinds  of. 
 
 The  psalmist  speaks  of  singing  to  the 
 name  of  the  Lord,  Blessing,  Extolling, 
 Tiianksgiving,  Exalting. 
 
 Just  as  the  stem  which  is  full  of  sap 
 throws  out  many  branches,  so  the  believer 
 who  is  full  of  a  spirit  of  praise  will  give 
 vent  to  it  in  many  different  forms. 
 
 F.  B.  Foiver. 
 PRAISE- Lasting. 
 
 Praise  is  the  only  part  of  duty  in  which 
 we  at  present  engage,  which  is  lasting.  We 
 pray,  but  there  shall  be  a  time  when  prayer 
 shall  offer  its  last  litany  ;  we  believe,  but 
 there  shall  be  a  time  when  faith  shall  be 
 lost  in  sight ;  we  hope,  and  hope  maketh 
 not  ashamed,  but  there  shall  be  a  time 
 when  hope  lies  down  and  dies,  lost  in  the 
 splendour  of  the  fruition  that  God  shall 
 reveal.  But  praise  goes  singing  into 
 heaven,  and  is  ready  without  a  teacher  to 
 strike  the  harp  that  is  waiting  for  it,  to 
 transmit  along  the  echoes  of  eternity  the 
 song  of  the  Lamb.  In  the  party-coloured 
 world  in  which  we  live,  there  are  days  of 
 various  sorts  and  experiences,  making  up 
 the  aggregate  of  the  Christian's  life.  There 
 are  waiting  days,  in  which,  because  Provi- 
 dence fences  us  round,  and  it  seems  as  if  we 
 cannot  march,  we  cannot  move,  as  though 
 we  must  just  wait  to  see  what  the  Lord 
 is  about  to  do  in  us  and  for  us ;  and  there 
 are  watching  days,  when  it  behoves  us  never 
 to  slumber,  but  to  be  always  ready  for  the 
 attacks  of  our  spiritual  enemy ;  and  there 
 are  warring  days,  when  with  nodding 
 plume,  and  with  ample  armour,  we  must 
 go  forth  to  do  battle  for  the  truth  ;  and 
 there  are  weeping  days,  when  it  seems  as 
 if  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep  within 
 us  were  broken  up,  and  as  though,  through 
 much  tribulation,  we  had  to  pass  to  heaven 
 in  tears.  But  these  days  shall  all  pass 
 away  by-and-bye — waiting  days  all  be 
 passed,  warring  days  all  be  passed,  watch- 
 ing days  all  be  passed ;  but 
 "  Our  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past 
 While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last 
 And  immortalitv  endures." 
 
 W.  31.  Funslion 
 
 PRAISE— Obligation  to. 
 
 Think  njt,  O  man,  whosoever  thou  art, 
 
PRAISE-PRAYER. 
 
 673 
 
 that  God  will  dispense  with  this  tribute  of 
 praise  from  thee  I  Remember,  that  merely 
 as  man,  thou  art  the  high  priest  of  all 
 creation,  a  little  miniature  of  the  universe 
 in  thyself,  representing  the  angels  in  virtue 
 of  thy  immortal  spirit,  the  lower  creatures 
 in  virtne  of  thy  sensations  and  appetites, 
 and  matter  in  virtue  of  thy  body.  Thus, 
 when  thou  singest  praise,  all  creation  (in 
 a  manner)  sings  in  thee  and  with  thee. 
 
 Dr.  Goulhurn. 
 PRAISE— Power  of. 
 
 A  person  being  once  cast  upon  a  desolate 
 island,  spent  a  day  in  fasting  and  prayer 
 for  his  deliverance,  but  no  help  came.  It 
 occurred  to  him  then  to  keep  a  day  of 
 thanksgiving  and  praise,  and  he  had  no 
 sooner  done  it  than  relief  was  brought  to 
 him.  You  see,  as  soon  as  he  began  to  sing 
 of  mercy  exercised,  the  exercise  of  mercy 
 was  renewed  to  him.  The  Lord  heard  the 
 voice  of  his  praise.  JVeviiis. 
 
 PRAISE— Signification  of. 
 
 The  word  rendered  praise,  primarily  sig- 
 Tiifies  the  irradiation  of  a  luminous  body. 
 The  high  ambition  of  a  penitent  soul  is 
 that  of  becoming  a  reflector,  from  which 
 the  glories  of  the  Sun  of  Kighteousness 
 may  be  more  widely  ditlused  on  the  world 
 of  men  and  angels.  Salter. 
 
 PRAISE— Spirit  of. 
 
 When  the  Holy  Spirit  stirs  within  our 
 hearts,  warming  and  vivifying  us,  we  feel 
 rise  within  us  the  spirit  of  praise.  Just  as 
 the  birds  which  have  been  silent  during 
 the  winter,  sing  when  they  feel  the  influ- 
 ence of  the  spring,  and  as  they  break 
 forth  when  the  morning  dawns  and  the 
 shadows  of  the  night  have  hastened  away, 
 so  the  soul  which  could  neither  sing  nor 
 praise  for  perhaps  many  a  long  hour  of 
 coldness  and  darkness  is  stirred  on  the  in- 
 coming of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Spirit  of 
 God  is  a  Spirit  of  praise.  P.  jB.  Fower. 
 
 PRAISE— Universality  of. 
 
 Praise  is  the  religious  exercise — the  one 
 religious  exercise — of  heaven.  Angels  are 
 ottering  it  ceaselessly,  resting  not  night  or 
 day.  Saints  are  ottering  it  ceaselessly  in 
 Paradise.  Nature  in  her  every  district  is 
 oflering  it  ceaselessly.  From  the  heavens, 
 which  declare  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
 firmament  which  showeth  his  handiwork, 
 down  to  tlie  dewdrop  which  sparkles  with 
 the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  and  the  lark, 
 who  tunes  her  cheerful  carol  as  she  salutes 
 the  rising  sun,  the  whole  creation  sends  up 
 one  grand  chorus  of  praise  to  the  throne  of 
 God.  Dr.  Go  alburn. 
 
 PRAISE  AND  THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Praise  and  thanksgiving  are  generally 
 
 considered  as  synonymous,  yet  some  dis- 
 tinguish them  thus  : — Praise  properly  ter- 
 minates in  God,  on  account  of  His  natural 
 excellencies  and  perfections,  and  is  that  act 
 of  devotion  by  which  we  confess  and  admire 
 His  several  attributes;  but  thanksgiving  is 
 a  more  contracted  duty,  and  imports  only 
 a  grateful  sense  and  acknowledgment  of 
 past  mercies.  We  praise  God  for  all  His 
 glorious  acts,  every  kind  that  regard  either 
 us  or  other  men ;  for  His  very  vengeance 
 and  those  judgments  which  He  sometimes 
 sends  abroad  in  the  earth  ;  but  we  thank 
 Him,  properly  speaking,  ibr  the  instances 
 of  His  goodness  alone,  and  for  such  only 
 of  these  as  we  ourselves  are  some  way  con- 
 cerned in.  C.  Buclc. 
 
 PRAISING  GOD— Benefit  of. 
 
 All  the  benefit  which  ariseth  out  of  this 
 duty  redounds  to  us,  and  none  to  God.  His 
 glory  is  infinite,  and  eternally  the  same; 
 there  is,  nor  can  be,  no  accession  unto  that 
 by  all  our  praises,  ^\■hen  a  glass  reflecteth 
 the  brightness  of  the  sun,  there  is  but  an 
 acknowledgment  of  what  was,  not  any 
 addition  of  what  was  not.  AVhen  an  ex- 
 cellent orator  makes  a  panegyrical  oration 
 in  praise  of  some  honorable  person,  he 
 does  not  infuse  any  dram  of  worth  into 
 the  person,  but  only  setteth  forth  and 
 declareth  that  which  is,  unto  others.  A 
 curious  picture  praiseth  a  beautiful  face, 
 not  by  adding  beauty  to  it,  but  by  repre- 
 senting that  which  was  in  it  before.  The 
 window  which  lets  in  light  into  a  house 
 does  not  benefit  the  light,  but  the  house 
 into  which  the  light  shineth  ;  so  our  prais- 
 ing of  God  doth  serve  to  quicken,  comfort, 
 and  refresh  ourselves,  who  have  interest  in 
 so  good  a  God ;  or  to  edify  and  encourage 
 our  brethren,  that  they  may  be  ambitious 
 to  serve  so  honorable  a  Master ;  but  they 
 add  no  glory  or  lustre  to  God  at  all. 
 
 Bj).  Reynolds. 
 PRAYER— Abuse  of. 
 
 To  say  that  prayer  was  no  good  because 
 some  prayed  hypocritically  and  derived 
 no  blessing,  it  may  be  as  well  pretended 
 that  because  the  sun  shining  on  a  dung- 
 hill doth  occasion  offensive  and  noisome 
 steams,  therefore  all  that  is  pretended  of 
 its  influence  on  spices  and  flowers,  causing 
 them  to  give  out  their  fragrancy,  is  utterly 
 false.  Dr.  J.  Owen. 
 
 PRAYER— Acceptable. 
 
 As  the  incense-cloud  went  up  from  the 
 kindled  coal  in  the  censer;  as  the  sweet 
 savour  went  up  from  the  burnt  oflering, 
 when  it  was  roast  with  the  fire  of  the 
 altar  ;  so  true  believing  prayer,  coming 
 from  a  kindled  heart,  rises  of  necessity  to 
 God,  and  steals  into  His  immediate  pre- 
 sence in  the  upper  sanctuary.  "We  may 
 43 
 
674 
 
 PRA.TE&. 
 
 complete  the  imagery  by  observing  that 
 the  altar  upon  which  these  sacrifices  must 
 be  laid — the  only  altar  which  sanctifieth 
 the  gift,  and  renders  it  acceptable — is  our 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  in  the  faith  of 
 whose  meritorious  Cross  and  Righteous- 
 ness every  prayer  and  spiritual  oblation 
 must  be  made.  Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 To  heav'n  their  prayers 
 Flew  up,  nor  miss'd  the  way,  by  envious 
 
 winds 
 Blown    vagabond    or   frustrate  ;    in    they 
 
 pass'd 
 Dimensionless    through    heavenly   doors ; 
 
 then  clad 
 With    incense,   where    the    golden    altar 
 
 fum'd 
 By  their  great  Intercessor,  came  in  sight 
 Before  the  Father's  throne.  Milton. 
 
 PRAYER— Access  in. 
 
 The  Aediles  among  the  Romans  had 
 their  doors  always  standing  open,  that  all 
 who  had  petitions  might  have  free  access 
 to  them.  The  door  of  Heaven  is  always 
 open  for  the  prayers  of  God's  people. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 PRAYER— Affinity  with  God  in. 
 
 It  is  a  great  truth,  reader,  that  if  we 
 desire  to  gain  anything  from  the  Most 
 High,  our  minds  must  be  set,  more  or  less, 
 to  the  same  key  as  His.  If  two  harps  be 
 strung  to  the  same  key,  but  not  otherwise, 
 when  one  of  them  is  struck,  the  other 
 gives  a  responsive  sound.  There  must  be 
 ■?ome  secret  affinity  in  nature  between  the 
 lightning  of  heaven  and  the  conductor 
 wliicli  draws  it  down  —  between  the  steel 
 and  the  magnet  which  attracts  it — be- 
 tween the  light  substances  and  the  chafed 
 glass  or  sealing  wax,  towards  which  they 
 leap  up  and  cling.  And  in  grace  there 
 must  be  a  secret  affinity  between  God  and 
 the  soul  (this  affinity  itself  being  the  eftect 
 of  grace),  before  the  soul  can  lay  hold  of 
 God's  will,  and  draw  out  a  blessing  from 
 Him,  yea,  draw  God  Himself  into  it.  This 
 affinity  stands  in  love.  Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 PRAYER— Anger  in. 
 
 He  that  prays  to  God  with  an  angry, 
 that  is,  with  a  troubled  and  discomposed 
 spirit,  is  like  him  that  retires  into  a  battle 
 to  meditate,  and  sets  up  his  closet  in  the 
 out-quarters  of  an  army,  and  chooses  a 
 frontier-garrison  to  be  wise  in.  Anger  is 
 a  perfect  alienation  of  the  mind  from 
 prayer,  and,  therefore,  is  contrary  to  that 
 attention  which  presents  our  prayers  in  a 
 right  line  to  God,  Up.  Taylor. 
 
 PRAYER— Ardent. 
 
 Prayer  ardent  opens  heaven,  lets  down  a 
 stream 
 
 Of  glory  on  the  consecrated  hour 
 
 Of  man  in  audience  with  the  Deity : 
 
 Who  worships  the  great  God,  that  instant 
 
 joins 
 The  first  in  heaven,  and  sets  his  foot  on 
 
 hell.  Young. 
 
 PRAYER— Benefit  of. 
 
 Lord,  what  a  change  within  us  one  short 
 
 hour 
 Spent   in    Thy   presence,   will   prevail   to 
 
 make  ! 
 What    heavy  burdens    from   our    bosoms 
 
 take. 
 What  parch'd  grounds  refresh,  as  with  a 
 
 shower ! 
 We   kneel,   and   all    around   us    seems   to 
 
 lower  J 
 We  rise,  and  all,  the  distant  and  the  near. 
 Stands  forth  in  sunny  outline,  brave  and 
 
 clear ; 
 We  kneel,  how  weak  ! — we  rise,  how  full 
 
 of  power  ! 
 Why,  therefore,  should   we   do   ourselves 
 
 this  wrong. 
 Or  others,  that  we  are  not  always  strong, 
 That  we  are  ever  overborne  with  care. 
 That  we  should  ever  weak  or  heartless  be. 
 Anxious    or    troubled,    when   with   us    is 
 
 prayer. 
 And  joy,  and  strength,  and  courage  are 
 
 with  Thee  ?  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 PRAYER— Closet. 
 
 Tlie  closet  is  the  soul's  banquetinar  room. 
 Devout  exercises  are  its  food.  Now,  as 
 men  do  not  live  to  eat,  but  eat  to  live,  so 
 Christians  do  not  live  to  pray,  but  pray 
 that  they  may  rightly  live.  Men  eat 
 enough  when  the  food  taken  suffices  to 
 keep  them  in  vigour  and  comlbrt  until  the 
 next  meal-time  comes.  In  like  manner, 
 we  may  be  well  assured  that  our  seasons 
 of  seclusion  are  well  used,  well  placed,  well 
 proportioned,  when  the  blessed  influence 
 heaven  graciously  gives  us  in  them  abides 
 with  us,  spiritualising  and  ruling  us  with 
 unexpended  force,  until  the  opportunity  of 
 retirement  again  occurs.  S.  Coley. 
 
 Poor  persons,  who  have  but  one  apart- 
 ment, may  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the 
 Saviour's  direction,  by  praying  wherever 
 they  can  be  retired. 
 
 Isaac's  closet  was  a  field.  He  went  out 
 to  meditate  in  the  field  at  the  eventide. 
 David's  closet  was  his  bedchamber.  "  Com- 
 mune with  your  own  heart  upon  your  bed, 
 and  be  still."  Our  Lord's  closet  was  a 
 mountain.  "  When  He  had  sent  the  mul- 
 titude away.  He  went  up  into  a  mountain 
 apart  to  pray,  and  when  the  evening  was 
 come,  He  was  there  alone."  Peter's  closet 
 was  upon  the  house-top.  Peter  "  went 
 upon  the  house-top  to  pray,  about  tho 
 sixth  hour."     Hezekiah's  closet  was  turn« 
 
PEATEE. 
 
 675 
 
 ing  his  face  towards  the  wall,  and  praying 
 unto  the  Lord.  Bickersteth. 
 
 PRAYEE  (Closet)— Benefits. 
 
 Many  noble  examples  have  attested  how 
 this  inner  life  of  heaven — combining  the 
 heroic  and  the  gentle,  softening  without 
 enfeebling  the  character,  preparing  either 
 for  action  or  endurance  —  has  shed  its 
 power  over  the  outer  life  of  earth.  How 
 commanding  is  the  attitude  of  Paul  from 
 the  time  of  his  conversion  to  the  truth  ! 
 What  courage  he  has — encountering  the 
 Epicurean  and  Stoical  philosophers  —  re- 
 vealing the  unknown  God  to  the  multi- 
 tude at  Athens — making  the  false-hearted 
 Felix  tremble,  and  almost  constraining 
 the  pliable  Agrippa  to  decision — standing, 
 silver-haired  and  solitary,  before  the  bar 
 of  Nero  —  dying  a  martyr  for  the  loved 
 name  of  Jesus  ! — that  heroism  was  born 
 in  the  solitude  where  he  importunately 
 "  besought  the  Lord."  "  In  Luther's 
 closet,"  says  D'Aubigne,  "we  have  the 
 secret  of  the  Reformation."  The  Puritans 
 — those  "  men  of  whom  the  world  was 
 not  worthy  " — to  whom  we  owe  immense, 
 hut  scantily  acknowledged,  obligations — 
 how  kept  they  their  fidelity  ?  Tracked 
 through  wood  and  wild,  the  baying  of  the 
 fierce  sleuth-hound  breaking  often  upon 
 their  sequestered  worship  —  their  prayer 
 was  the  talisman  which  "  stopped  the 
 mouths  of  lioiis,  and  quenched  the  violence 
 of  fire."  You  cannot  have  forgotten  how 
 exquisitely  the  efficacy  of  prayer  is  pre- 
 sented in  our  second  book  of  Proverbs  : 
 "  Behold  that  fragile  form  of  delicate  trans- 
 parent beauty, 
 Whose  light  blue  eye  and  hectic  cheek  are 
 
 lit  by  the  bale-fires  of  decline  ; 
 Hath  not  thy  heart  said  other,  Alas  !  poor 
 
 child  of  weakness  ? 
 Thou  hast  erred ;  Goliath  of  Gath  stood 
 
 not  in  half  her  strength  : 
 For  the  serried  ranks  of  evil  are  routed  by 
 
 the  lightning  of  her  eye ; 
 Seraphim  rally  at  her  side,  and  the  captain 
 
 of  that  host  is  God, 
 For  that  weak  fluttering  heart  is  strong  in 
 
 faith  assured, — 
 Dependence  is  her  might,  and  behold — she 
 
 prayeth."  W.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 PEAYEE— Comforts  of. 
 
 The  best  and  sweetest  flowers  of  Paradise 
 God  gives  to  His  peojile  when  they  are 
 upon  their  knees.  Prayer  is  the  gate  of 
 heaven,  or  key  to  let  us  in  to  Paradise. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 
 Prayer  crowns  God  with  the  honour  and 
 glory  that  are  due  to  His  name,  and  God 
 crowns  prayer  with  assurance  and  comfort. 
 Usually  the  most  praying  souls  are  the 
 most  assured  souls.  Ibid, 
 
 PEAYEE— a  Criterion  of  Piety. 
 
 Prayer  is  the  spiritual  pulse  of  the  re- 
 newed soul ;  its  beat  indicates  the  healthy 
 or  unhealthy  state  of  the  believer.  Just 
 as  the  physician  would  decide  upon  the 
 health  of  the  body  from  the  action  of  the 
 pulse,  so  would  we  decide  upon  the  spiritual 
 health  of  the  soul  before  God,  by  tine  esti- 
 mation in  which  prayer  is  held  by  the 
 believer.  Br.  O.  Winslow. 
 
 PEAYEE— Definitions  of. 
 
 It  is  communion  with  God.  Oh  !  bre- 
 thren, prayer  is  not  an  apostrophe  to 
 woods  and  wilds  and  waters.  It  is  not  a 
 moan  east  forth  into  the  viewless  winds, 
 or  a  bootless  behest  expended  on  a  passing 
 cloud.  It  is  not  a  plaintive  cry  directed 
 to  an  empty  echo,  that  can  send  back  no- 
 thing but  another  cry.  Prayer  is  a  living 
 heart  that  speaks  in  a  living  ear,  the  ear 
 of  the  living  God.  Br.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 Prayer  is  an  action  of  likeness  to  the 
 Holy  Ghost,  the  spirit  of  gentleness  and 
 dovelike  simplicity ;  an  imitation  of  the 
 Holy  Jesus,  whose  spirit  is  meek  up  to 
 the  greatness  of  the  biggest  example  ;  and 
 conformity  to  God,  whose  anger  is  always 
 just,  and  marches  slowly,  and  is  without 
 transportation,  and  often  hindered,  and 
 never  hasty,  and  is  full  of  mercy.  Prayer 
 is  the  peace  of  our  spirit,  the  stillness  of 
 our  thoughts,  the  evenness  of  recollection, 
 the  seat  of  meditation,  the  rest  of  our  cares, 
 and  the  calm  of  our  tempest ;  prayer  is 
 the  issue  of  a  quiet  mind,  of  untroubled 
 thoughts,  it  is  the  daughter  of  charity  and 
 the  sist':r  of  meekness.  B;p.  Taylor 
 
 PEAYEE— Description  of. 
 
 It  is  frailty  fleeing  to  Omnipotence.  It 
 is  misery  at  the  door  of  mercy.  It  is 
 "  worm  Jacob "  at  the  ladder's  foot,  and 
 that  ladder's  top  in  heaven.  It  is  the 
 dying  thief  beside  a  dying  Saviour,  and 
 the  same  paradise  already  open  for  them 
 both.  The  mercy  seat  is  the  ark  of  the 
 covenant  opened,  and  the  legend  over  it, 
 "  Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  thee."  And 
 prayer  is  just  the  exploring  eye  and  the 
 believing  hand  selecting  from  the  "  un- 
 searchable riches  of  Christ,"  the  sweetest 
 mercies  and  the  costliest  gifts.  Jacob 
 compared  Jo-eph  his  son  to  a  fruiti'ul 
 tree  inside  of  a  lofty  fence  ;  but  though 
 he  grew  in  "  a  garden  enclosed,"  his 
 growth  was  so  luxuriant  that  his  branches 
 ran  over  the  wall,  and  the  wandering 
 Ishmaelites  and  the  hungry  passengers  shot 
 their  arrows  and  flung  their  missiles  at 
 the  laden  boughs,  and  caught  up  such 
 clusters  as  fell  outside  the  fence.  The 
 tree  of  life  grows  now  in  such  a  garden. 
 There  is  now  an  enclosure  round  it,  but 
 
676 
 
 PEAYEE. 
 
 the  branches  run  over  the  wall.  High 
 over  our  heads  we  may  perceive  the  bend- 
 ing boughs,  and  such  fragrant  fruits  as 
 ''  peace  of  conscience,  joy  in  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  assurance  of  God's  love,"  "  gentle- 
 ness, goodness,  faith,  meekness,  tempe- 
 i-aiice"  —  and  prayer  is  the  arrow  which 
 detaches  these  from  the  bough — the  missile 
 which  brings  these  far-off  fruits,  these 
 lofty  clusters,  down  to  the  dusty  path 
 and  the  weary  traveller's  feet.  Happy  he 
 whose  believing  prayer  is  "  like  Jonathan's 
 bow,  which  never  came  empty  back." 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton.. 
 
 Prayer  is  a  creature's  strength,  his  very 
 
 breath  and  being ; 
 Prayer   is   the   golden   key  that  can  open 
 
 the  wicket  of  Mercy. 
 Prayer  is  the  magic  sound  that  saith  to 
 
 Fate,  So  be  it ; 
 Prayer  is   the  slender  nerve  that  moveth 
 
 the  muscles  of  Omnipotence.    Tupj)er^ 
 
 PE.AYEE — Encouragements  to. 
 
 1.  Abraham's  servant  prays — Eebekah 
 appears. 
 
 2.  Jacob  wrestles  and  prays — Christ  is 
 conquered.  Esau's  mind  is  wonderfully 
 turned  from  the  revengeful  purpose  he  had 
 harboured  for  twenty  years. 
 
 3.  Moses  cries  to  God — the  sea  divides. 
 
 4.  Moses  prays — Amalek  is  discomfited. 
 
 5.  Joshua  prays— Achan  is  discovered. 
 
 6.  Hannah  prays — Samuel  is  born. 
 
 7.  David  prays — Ahithophel  hangs  him- 
 self. 
 
 8.  Asa  prays — a  victory  is  gained. 
 
 9.  Jehoshaphat  cries  to  God — God  turns 
 away  his  foes. 
 
 10.  Isaiah  and  Hezekiah  pray — 185,000 
 Assyrians  are  dead  in  twelve  hours. 
 
 11.  Daniel  prays — the  dream  is  revealed. 
 
 12.  Daniel  prays — the  lions  are  muzzled. 
 
 13.  Daniel  prays — the  seventy  weeks  are 
 revealed. 
 
 14.  Ezra  prays — God  answers  (Ezra 
 viii,  21-23). 
 
 15.  Nehemiah  dartsa  prayer — theking's 
 heart  is  softened  in  a  minute  (Neh,  ii,  6). 
 
 16.  Elijah  prays — a  drought  of  three 
 years  succeeds. 
 
 17.  Elijah  prays — rain  descends  apace. 
 
 18.  Elisha  prays — Jordan  is  divided. 
 
 19.  Elisha  prays — a  child's  soul  comes 
 back.     Praver  reaches  eternity. 
 
 20.  The  Apostles  pray— the  Holy  Ghost 
 comes  down. 
 
 21.  The  Church  prays  ardently  in  a 
 prayer -meeting — Peter  is  delivered  by  an 
 angel.  Br.  J.  Campbell. 
 
 PRAYER— EquaHty  in. 
 
 There  are  not  two  Gods  as  objects  of 
 true  prayer,  nor  two  Saviours  as  Mediators, 
 nor  two  Spirits  as  Agents,  nor  two  thrones 
 
 of  grace  before  which  to  bow.  There  is 
 only  one  Object,  one  Medium,  one  Agent, 
 one  Throne.  The  monarch  and  subject; 
 the  rich  man  and  beggar ;  the  philo- 
 sopher and  ploughman;  the  parent  and 
 the  child ;  the  master  and  the  servant 
 — all  who  render  Christian  worship  meet 
 together  in  the  one  temple  before  the 
 one  throne,  offering  their  presents  to  the 
 one  God,  through  the  one  Saviour,  and  by 
 the  one  Spirit.  John  Bate. 
 
 PRAYER— Faith  in. 
 
 Prayer  is  the  bow,  the  promise  is  the 
 arrow  ;  fiiith  is  the  hand  which  draws  the 
 bow,  and  sends  the  arrow  with  the  heart's 
 message  to  heaven.  The  bow  without  the' 
 arrow  is  of  no  use,  and  the  arrow  without 
 the  bow  is  of  little  worth,  and  both  with- 
 out the  strength  of  the  hand  to  no  pur- 
 pose. Neither  the  promise  without  prayer, 
 nor  prayer  without  the  promise,  nor  both 
 without  faith  avail  the  Christian  anything. 
 What  was  said  of  the  Israelites,  "They 
 could  not  enter  in,  because  of  unbelief," 
 the  same  may  be  said  of  many  of  our 
 prayers,  they  cannot  enter  heaven  because 
 they  are  not  put  up  in  faith.  Salter. 
 
 PEAYER— Eeehle. 
 
 I  have  seen  persons  stand  at  the  door  of 
 houses  minutes  toorether,  tapping  with 
 their  fingers  while  the  great  knocker  had 
 been  provided  for  them.  Had  they  used 
 that  they  would  have  saved  their  fingers 
 and  obtained  a  much  speedier  response. 
 This  is  like  many  persons  in  prayer.  In- 
 stead of  praying  with  the  promises  and 
 the  Spirit,  they  pray  in  their  own  feeble 
 strength,  and  hence  they  pray  amiss. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 PRAYER— Formality  in. 
 
 I  was  lately  reading  of  a  person  who 
 hid  been  travelling  among  the  Calmucs  (a 
 Russian  tribe).  At  the  entrance  of  their 
 huts  he  observed  a  kind  of  small  windmill. 
 He  inquired  for  what  purpose  they  were 
 put  tliere,  and  he  was  told  that  they  were 
 "praying  macliines."  The  owner  of  the 
 hut  causes  certain  prayers  to  be  written 
 by  the  priests,  and  they  are  then  turned 
 round  by  the  wind,  which  saves  him  the 
 trouble  of  repeating  them  himself. 
 
 A  Christian  wonders  at  such  absurdities. 
 But  in  the  conduct  of  these  poor  ignorant 
 Calmucs,  may  we  not  see  something  like  a 
 picture  of  his  own  conduct?  The  de- 
 votions of  too  many  Christians  are  but 
 little  better.  It  seems  to  be  quite  enough 
 with  some  to  make  their  appearance  in 
 God's  house.  They  hold  a  prayer-book  in 
 their  hand,  and  this  is  to  them  what  the 
 piaying  machine  is  to  the  Calmuc.  They 
 seem  almost  to  expect  it  to  pray  for  them, 
 and  to  bring  down  from  heaven  aU  the 
 
PEAYEIl. 
 
 677 
 
 blessing  tliey  need,  without   any  trouble 
 or  concern  of  their  own.  Oxenden. 
 
 PEAYER— God's  "Ways  of  Answering. 
 
 At  a  meeting  of  a  few  Christian  people 
 which  I  attended  in  a  foreign  city,  a 
 clergyman,  speaking  of  prayer,  said,  "  God 
 sometimes  answers  prayers  at  once;  some- 
 times He  gives  us  some  better  thing  in  the 
 place  of  the  particular  thing  we  ask; 
 sometimes  He  answers  by  the  very  contrary 
 of  what  we  wished,  and  out  of  that  springs 
 the  particular  thing  that  we  prayed  for." 
 
 QuicJc Answers. — How  manyhave  known 
 the  trnth  of  tliis  ?  "  As  I  prayed,"  says 
 one,  "  oil  of  health  was  distilled  drop  by 
 drop  into  my  wasted  frame,  and  I  presently 
 rose  from  my  sick  bed,  a  wonder  to  myself 
 and  others,  to  go  forth  into  busy  life  again." 
 "  As  I  prayed,"  says  another,  "  without 
 money  in  my  pocket,  without  food  in  my 
 cupboard,  without  credit  at  the  shop,  an 
 unlooked-for  friend  stepped  in  and  left 
 with  me  enough  and  to  spare,  and  I  was 
 enabled  to  look  the  world  in  the  face  and 
 feel  that  I  owed  men  nothing  but  love." 
 "  As  I  prayed,"  says  a  third,  "  a  blessing 
 came  down  upon  my  sailor  son  thousands 
 of  miles  away.  As  I  rose  from  ray  knees, 
 though  I  did  not  then  know  it,  he  was 
 plucked  by  the  hair  of  his  head  from  the 
 swelling  waters,  scarcely  saved."  Every 
 Christian, probably, can  recall  some  blessing 
 or  other  which  has  been  as  plainly  a  direct 
 answer  to  prayer  as  if  it  had  been  brought 
 by  an  angel's  hand  from  heaven. 
 
 Delayed  Answers. —  Sometinies  God  de- 
 lays His  answers  to  the  prayers  of  those 
 who  call  upon  Him.  Wiien  Peter  was  in 
 prison  his  friends  met  to  pray  for  him. 
 Day  after  day  passed,  and  no  deliverance 
 came;  and  at  length  the  last  night  before 
 bis  intended  death  arrived,  and  he  was  a 
 captive  still.  In  a  few  hours  it  was  ex- 
 pected by  many  that  his  blood  would 
 redden  the  scallbld,  and  that  his  voice 
 would  be  for  ever  hushed  on  earth.  But 
 the  praying  band  still  met ;  they  felt  that 
 God  could  save  at  the  eleventh  hour,  that 
 in  the  most  perplexing  straits  He  could 
 make  a  way.  And  on  that  last  night, 
 while  they  were  pleading,  God's  angel 
 came  down  into  the  prison ;  Peter's  chains 
 fell  off ;  he  issued  out  into  the  street  a  free 
 man  :  and  presently,  through  that  very 
 door  at  which  they  had  entered  to  pray, 
 they  saw  the  living  answer  to  their  prayers 
 arrive. 
 
 More  than  expected. — Sometimes  God 
 gives  us  in  answer  to  our  i)rayers  some 
 better  thing  in  place  of  the  particular 
 thing  that  we  have  asked.  Our  Lord 
 prayed  that  if  it  were  possible  the  bitter 
 cup  might  be  taken  from  Him.  It  was 
 not  taken  from  Him  ;  He  drank  it  to  the 
 very  dregs ;  but  an  angel  was  sent  to  Him 
 
 from  heaven,  to  strengthen  Him  i"  His 
 agony.  TJie  apostle  Paul  was  sfllictod 
 with  some  trouble  that  he  calls  a  thorn  in 
 the  flesh.  He  very  earnestly  prayed  for 
 its  removal.  It  was  not  removed ;  but 
 special  grace  was  given  him  to  help  him  to 
 bear  it,  and  in  the  strength  of  that  grace 
 he  went  down  to  his  grave,  rejoicing  even 
 in  the  infirmity  itself.  In  both  these  cases 
 prayer  was  heard  and  answered,  though  in 
 a  different  manner  from  what  those  who 
 oll'ered  the  prayer  seemed  to  ask.  And  it 
 is  often  so  now.  "  Give  me  health  "  says 
 one.  God  refuses  the  blessing,  but  with 
 illness  he  sends  so  many  sweet  experiences 
 of  His  own  love,  and  so  much  sympathy 
 and  help  from  earthly  friends,  that  the 
 sufferer  feels  after  a  while  that  the  couch 
 of  pain  is  a  haven  of  peace. 
 
 Contrary  Answers. — But  once  more. 
 God  sometimes  answers  prayer  by  the  very 
 contrary  to  what  we  pray  for,  and  out  of 
 the  apparent  disaster  the  true  blessing 
 springs.  "  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that 
 thy  faith  fail  not,"  said  our  Lord  to  con- 
 fident Peter.  Yet  in  the  fall  which  so  soon 
 followed  on  the  part  of  Peter,  it  did  seem 
 as  if  faith  had  altogether  failed.  Yet  from 
 the  smoulderiug  embers  of  Peter's  faith 
 the  flauie  leaped  with  double  energy.  That 
 very  fall,  followed  as  it  was  l)y  many  tears 
 and  muth  self-mistrust,  drove  the  erring 
 apostle  closer  to  the  Lord.  He  felt  his 
 own  weakness,  he  clung  to  Christ  as  his 
 strength;  and  whereas  he  had  experienced 
 that  when  he  was  strong  then  he  was 
 weak,  he  now  could  say  with  his  brother 
 apostle,  "  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I 
 strong."  Anon. 
 
 I  asked  the  Lord  that  I  might  grow 
 
 In  faith,  and  love,  and  grace. 
 Might  more  of  His  salvation  know. 
 
 And  seek  more  earnestly  His  face. 
 'Twas  He  who  taught  me  thus  to  pray, 
 
 And  He,  I  trust,  has  answered  prayer; 
 But  it  has  been  in  such  a  way 
 
 As  almost  drove  me  to  despair. 
 
 I  hoped  that  in  some  favoured  hour. 
 
 At  once  He'd  answer  my  request. 
 And,  by  His  love's  constraining  power, 
 
 Subdue  my  sins,  and  give  me  rest. 
 Instead  of  this.  He  made  me  feel 
 
 The  hidden  evils  of  my  heart ; 
 And  let  the  angry  powers  of  hell 
 
 Assault  my  soul  in  every  part. 
 Yea,  more  ;  with  His  own  hand  He  seemed 
 
 Intent  to  aggravate  my  woe ; 
 Crossed  all  the  fair  designs  I  schemed, 
 
 Blasted  my  gourds,  and  laid  me  low. 
 
 "  Lord,  why  is  this  ?"  I  trembling  cried : 
 "  Wilt  thou  pursue  thy  worm  to  death?" 
 
 '"Tis  in  this  way,"  the  Lord  replied. 
 "  1  answer  prayer  for  grace  and  faith." 
 
678 
 
 PRAYEE. 
 
 These  inward  trials  I  employ, 
 
 From  self  and  pride  to  set  thee  free ; 
 And  break  thy  schemes  of  earthly  joy, 
 That  thou  mayst  seek  thine  all  in  me." 
 J.  Newton. 
 PRAYER— Heart  in. 
 
 It  is  not  the  gilded  paper  and  good 
 writing  of  a  petition  that  prevails  with  a 
 king,  but  the  moving  sense  of  it.  (Vnd  to 
 that  King  who  discerns  the  heart,  heart 
 sense  is  the  sense  of  all,  and  that  which 
 He  only  regards  :  He  listens  to  hear  what 
 that  speaks,  and  takes  all  as  nothing  where 
 that  is  silent.  All  other  excellence  in 
 prayer  is  but  the  outside  and  fashion  of  it ; 
 this  is  the  life  of  it.  Leighton. 
 
 The  incense  of  the  temple  was  to  be 
 beaten  to  typify  the  breaking  of  the  heart 
 in  prayer.  T.  Watson. 
 
 PRAYER— Hindrances  to. 
 
 1.  Doubt.  2.  An  unforgiving  spirit.  3. 
 A  worldly  mind.  4.  The  influence  of  a 
 wrong  spirit  within  us,  as  uncharitable- 
 ness,  vanity,  selfishness,  &c.  5.  Want  of 
 specific  aim.  6.  Want  of  direct  and  be- 
 lieving reference  to  Christ  as  Mediator. 
 7.  The  ab^^ence  of  importunity.  8.  Incon- 
 sistency of  life.     9.  Distraction  of  mind. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 PRAYER— Holy  Spirit  in, 
 
 "  Praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost ;"  "  The 
 Spirit  maketh  intercession  within  you  ;"  is 
 the  language  of  Scripture.  As  a  wind 
 musical  instrument  in  the  hands  of  the 
 musician,  so  should  Christians  in  prayer  be 
 in  the  hands  of  the  Divine  Spirit ;  they 
 should  present  such  prayers  as  He  indites 
 within  them.  The  harmony,  melody,  sweet- 
 ness, power,  and  eff"ect  of  their  prayers 
 should  be  produced  by  the  agency  of  the 
 Spirit  dwelling  in  them.  Hid. 
 
 PRAYER— Hour  of. 
 
 My  God !  is  any  hour  so  sweet. 
 
 From  blush  of  morn  to  evening  star. 
 As  that  which  calls  me  to  Thy  feet, — 
 The  hour  of  prayer  ? 
 
 Bless'd  is  the  tranquil  hour  of  morn. 
 
 And  bless'd  that  hour  of  solemn  eve. 
 When  on  the  wings  of  prayer  upborne. 
 The  world  I  leave. 
 
 Then  is  my  strength  by  Thee  renewed; 
 Then  are  my  sins  by  Thee  forgiven; 
 Theu  dost  Thou  cheer  my  solitude 
 
 With  hope  of  heaven.  Anon. 
 
 PRAYER— Importunate. 
 
 To  present  a  petition  is  one  thing;  to 
 prosecute  a  suit  is  another.  Most  j)rayers 
 answer  to  the  former.  But  successful 
 prayer  corresponds  to  the  latter.  The 
 children  of  this  world  are  in  this  respect 
 
 wise  in  their  generation.  When  they  have 
 a  petition  to  carry,  they  go  with  it  to  the 
 seat  of  government,  and  having  conveyed 
 it  by  the  proper  channel  to  the  power 
 which  is  to  decide  upon  it,  they  anxiously 
 await  the  decision,  in  the  mean  time  se- 
 curing all  the  influence  they  can,  and  doing 
 everything  possible  to  ensure  a  favorable 
 result.  So  should  the  children  of  light  do. 
 But  frequently  they  just  lodge  their  peti- 
 tion in  the  court  of  heaven  and  there  they 
 let  it  lie.  They  do  not  press  the  suit. 
 They  do  not  employ  other  means  in  fur- 
 thering it,  beyond  the  simple  presenting 
 of  it.  They  do  not  await  the  decision  of  it. 
 The  whole  of  prayer  does  not  consist  in 
 taking  hold  of  God.  The  main  matter  is 
 holding  on.  How  many  are  induced  by 
 the  slightest  appearance  of  repulse,  to  lei 
 go,  as  Jacob  did  not !  I  have  been  struck 
 with  the  manner  in  which  petitions  are 
 usually  concluded  :  "  And  your  petitioners 
 will  ever  pray."  So  "  men  ought  always 
 to  pray  (to  God)  and  never  faint."  Payson 
 says,  "  The  promise  of  God  is  not  to  the 
 act,  but  to  the  habit  of  prayer."      Nevins. 
 
 I  have  seen  a  father  hold  out  at  a  distance 
 from  the  child,  a  promised  good.  The 
 (•hild  as  soon  as  he  saw  it  stretched  out 
 his  hands  to  take  it,  but  found  that  it  was 
 too  far  away  for  him  to  reach.  He  then 
 came  nearer,  and  stretched  forth  his  hands 
 with  greater  effort.  Still  the  object  was 
 too  far  for  his  grasp.  Again  the  child 
 came  nearer  and  made  another  mighty 
 eilbrt.  The  father  seeing  the  child  so 
 much  in  earnest  to  seize  the  object,  drew 
 his  hand  towards  the  child,  and  smilingly 
 allowed  him  to  seize  the  promised  blessing. 
 John  Bale. 
 PRAYER— Ineffectual. 
 
 Suppose  that  a  man  takes  up  his  pen 
 and  a  piece  of  parchment,  and  writes  on 
 the  top  of  it,  "  To  the  Queen's  Most  Ex- 
 cellent Majesty,  the  humble  petition  of 
 So-and-so,"  but  there  he  stops.  He  sits 
 with  the  pen  in  his  hand  for  half  au  hour, 
 but  does  not  add  another  word;  then  rises 
 and  goes  his  way.  And  he  repeats  this 
 I)rocess  day  after  day— beginning  a  hun- 
 dred sheets  of  paper,  but  putting  into  them 
 no  express  request;  sometimes,  perhaps, 
 scrawling  down  a  few  sentences  which  no- 
 body can  read,  not  even  himself,  but  never 
 plainly  and  deliberately  setting  down  what 
 it  is  that  he  desires.  Can  he  wonder  that 
 his  blank  petitions  and  scribbled  parch- 
 ments have  no  sensible  eft'ects  on  himself 
 nor  on  any  one  besides  ? 
 
 And  so,  my  friends,  there  are  many  per- 
 sons who  pass  their  days  inditing  blank 
 petitions — or  rather  petitionless  forms  of 
 prayer.     Every  morning  they  bend  theii* 
 
PRAYEE. 
 
 679 
 
 knee,  and  continue  a  few  moments  in  the 
 devotional  attitude.  Tliey  address  them- 
 selves to  the  heavenly  majesty.  They  call 
 on  the  "  great  and  dreadlul  name  "  of  God, 
 and  they  go  over  a  few  words  and  sen- 
 tences, but  such  incoherent  and  unfelt 
 sentences  as  the  child  who  cannot  write 
 would  scrawl  upon  a  piece  of  paper.  Or 
 perhaps  they  say  nothing.  They  leave  it 
 a  perfect  blank.  And  after  this  form  of 
 worship  they  go  their  way,  and  wonder 
 why  their  prayers  are  not  heard.  Other 
 people  get  answers,  but  they  are  not  con- 
 scious that  any  prayer  of  theirs  has  ever 
 produced  the  least  eflect. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 PRAYER— Influence  of. 
 
 Prayer  is  like  a  man  in  a  small  boat 
 laying  hold  of  a  large  ship  ;  and  who,  if  he 
 does  not  move  the  large  vessel,  at  least 
 moves  the  small  vessel  towards  the  large 
 one ;  so,  though  prayer  could  not  directly 
 move  God  towards  the  suppliant,  it  will 
 move  the  suppliant  towards  God,  and  bring 
 the  two  parties  nearer  to  each  other. 
 
 Dr.  McCosh. 
 PRAYER— Instant  in. 
 
 When  a  pump  is  frequently  used,  but 
 little  pains  are  necessary  to  obtain  water, 
 it  flows  out  at  the  first  stroke,  because  the 
 water  is  high.  But  if  the  pump  has  not 
 been  used  for  a  long  time,  the  water  gets 
 low,  and  when  it  is  wanted  you  must 
 pump  a  great  while,  and  the  stream  only 
 comes  after  great  efforts.  And  so  it  is 
 with  prayer:  if  we  are  instant  in  it,  and 
 faithful  in  it,  every  little  circumstance 
 awakens  the  disposition  to  pray,  and  de- 
 sires and  words  are  always  ready.  But  if 
 we  neglect  prayer,  it  is  difficult  for  us  to 
 pray,  for  the  water  in  the  well  gets  low. 
 
 Felix  Neff. 
 PRAYER- Intercessory. 
 
 In  the  time  of  Jesus  there  were  para- 
 lytics and  the  dying.  They  could  not  of 
 themselves  go  to  Jesus ;  their  wasted  limbs 
 refused  to  carry  them  ;  they  knew  not  that 
 Jesus  was  near  and  wished  to  cure  them. 
 There  were  even  the  dead  who  could  not 
 stir.  Who,  then,  interceded  ?  who  besought 
 the  Master  ?  A  father  ibr  his  daughter,  a 
 centurion  for  his  slave.  And  Jesus  resus- 
 citated the  dead.       Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 PRAYER— Love  of. 
 
 A  poor  old  woman  once  had  her  love  to 
 prayer  tested  by  one  who  said  to  her, 
 "  Well,  Betsy,  if  you  won't  pray  all  day 
 to-day,  I'll  give  you  half  a  sovereign." 
 She  replied,  with  an  indignant  look,  but 
 with  an  eye  sparkling  with  delight,  which 
 showed  the  peace  and  faith  that  reigned 
 within,  "  No,  sir,  nor  for  all  the  worlds 
 this  side  heaven ;  but  I'll  just  go  ask  the 
 
 Lord  to  help  you  to  believe  on  Him,  and 
 then  you'll  love  prayer  as  much  as  I  do." 
 Fhilips. 
 
 PRAYER— Man  of. 
 
 A  man  mighty  in  prayer,  is  a  perpetual 
 comfort— a  continual  cordial  in  a  world 
 like  this.  When  a  prayerless  professor 
 tries  to  comfort  the  afflicted,  he  defeats  his 
 own  well-meant  ett'orts.  When  he  enters 
 the  house  of  mourning,  or  sits  down  by  the 
 sick  man's  side,  it  is  like  a  traveller  coming 
 in  from  a  frosty  atmosphere  to  the  chamber 
 of  a  nervous  invalid.  Though  enveloped 
 in  broadcloth  and  fur,  he  brings  enough 
 of  winter  in  his  clothes  to  make  the  poor 
 patient  chatter.  But  the  man  of  prayer 
 carries  with  him  a  genial  clime.  Even  in 
 the  dead  season  of  the  year,  when  frost  is 
 black  and  fields  are  iron,  he  carries  summer 
 in  his  person.  "  All  his  garments  smell  of 
 myrrh  and  aloes  and  cassia,"  for  his  closet 
 is  the  ivory  palace — the  gay  conservatory 
 where  flowers  of  paradise  are  blooming  all 
 the  year.  There  is  a  gladness  in  his 
 coming,  for  he  never  comes  alone.  He 
 carries  his  Saviour  with  him. 
 
 Dr.  J.  SamilLon. 
 
 PRAYER— Mental  and  Vocal. 
 
 Mental  prayer,  when  our  spirits  wander, 
 is  like  a  watch  standing  still  because  the 
 spring  is  down  ;  wind  it  up  again,  and  it 
 goes  on  regularly.  But  in  vocal  prayer,  if 
 the  words  run  on  and  the  spirit  wanders, 
 the  clock  strikes  false,  the  hand  points  not 
 to  the  right  hour,  because  something  is  in 
 disorder,  and  the  striking  is  nothing  but 
 noise.  In  mental  prayer  we  confess  God's 
 omniscience,  in  vocal  prayer  we  call  angels 
 to  witness.  In  the  first  our  spirits  re- 
 joice in  God,  in  the  second  the  angels  re- 
 joice in  us.  Mental  prayer  is  the  best 
 remedy  against  lightness  and  indifl'erency 
 of  afl'ections,  but  vocal  prayer  is  the  aptest 
 instrument  of  communion.  That  is  more 
 angelical,  but  yet  is  fittest  for  the  state  of 
 separation  and  glory  ;  this  is  but  human, 
 but  it  is  apter  for  our  present  constitution. 
 They  have  their  distinct  properties,  and 
 may  be  used  according  to  several  accidents, 
 occasions,  or  dispositions,  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 PRAYER— Naturalness  of. 
 
 Prayer  cannot  be  useless,  since  it  is  one 
 of  our  moral  instincts.  It  has  a  foundation 
 in  the  very  constituent  principles  of  human 
 nature.  Men  may  live  without  it  when 
 their  mountain  stands  strong,  when  the 
 sky  is  briglit  above  them,  and  all  is  peace- 
 ful around  them.  But,  unless  a  very  de- 
 cided thwarting  process  has  previou-!y 
 been  accomplished,  there  is  no  instinctive 
 impulse  in  man's  heart  that  more  readily 
 numifcsts  itself  than  the  cry  of  help  from 
 above,  in  the  seasons  of  buffering  and  peril. 
 
680 
 
 PEAYEE. 
 
 Like  all  our  o*:her  moral  instincts,  it  is 
 liable  to  be  perverted,  nianifested  in  a 
 wrong-  way,  nr  misdirected  in  its  objects ; 
 but  the  instinct  itself  is  as  common  as 
 humanity.  Its  workings  are  seen  in  all 
 religions.  And  on  the  very  reasonable 
 l^riuciple  that  universally  diffused  modes 
 of  feeling  cannot  be  fictitious,  but  must  be 
 natural,  do  we  maintain  that  prayer  has  a 
 tirra  footing  in  the  moral  nature  of  man. 
 Should  it,  moi'eover,  be  affirmed  that 
 prayer  is  useless,  because  it  jiresupposes 
 mutabilitv  in  the  Divine  purposes,  we  deny 
 the  implicition;  and  deem  it,  sufficient  to 
 reply  that  it  is  among  the  fixed  purposes 
 of  God  that  men  must  ask  for  good  things 
 in  order  to  obtain  them ;  that  in  this  way 
 we  must  arknovvledge  God's  supremacy, 
 and  our  dejjendence  upon  Him,  that  the 
 duty  of  praying  on  man's  iiart  is  embraced 
 in  the  counsels  of  Him  with  whom  is  no 
 variableness,  nor  any  shadow  of  turning. 
 "  For  these  things  will  I  yet  be  inquired 
 of,"  is  the  immutable  decree  of  heaven. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 P?..\YEE— Iv'ecessity  of. 
 
 The  wise  Hillel  had  a  pupil  named 
 Maimon,  and  Hillel  was  greatly  pleased 
 with  his  talents  and  his  good  understanding. 
 But  he  soon  discovered  tliat  Maimon  was 
 trusting  too  much  to  his  own  wisdom,  and 
 had  entirely  given  up  prayer. 
 
 For  the  youug  man  said  in  his  heart, 
 "  What  is  the  use  of  ])rayer  ?  Does  the 
 omniscient  God  need  our  words  before  He 
 helps  us  ?  He  would  then  be  like  a  man. 
 Can  a  man's  prayers  and  sighs  alter  His 
 plans  ?  Will  not  the  gracious  God  give 
 us  of  Himself  whatever  is  good  and 
 useful  ?  "  These  were  the  thoughts  of  the 
 youth. 
 
 13ut  Hillel  was  troubled  in  his  heart  thnt 
 Maimon  should  think  himself  wiser  than 
 the  word  of  God,  and  he  determined  to 
 teach  him 'bettor. 
 
 When  Maimon  went  to  him  one  day, 
 Hillel  was  sitting  in  his  garden,  under  the 
 shade  of  a  palm-tree,  meditating,  with  his 
 head  resting  upon  his  hand.  And  Maimon 
 said  to  him,  "  Master,  about  what  are  you 
 meditating  ?" 
 
 Then  Hillel  lifted  up  his  head  and  said, 
 "  I  have  a  friend,  who  lives  ujion  the  pro- 
 duce of  his  estate.  Till  now  he  has  care- 
 iully  cultivated  it,  and  it  hai  well  repaid 
 his  toil.  But  now  he  has  thrown  away 
 the  plough  and  hoe,  and  is  determined  to 
 leave  the  field  to  itself;  so  that  he  is  sure 
 to  come  to  want  and  misery." 
 
 Has  he  gone  mad  ?"  said  the  young 
 man,  "  or  fallen  into  despondency  ?" 
 
 "  Neither,"  said  Hillel.  "  He  is  of  a 
 pious  disposition,  and  well  grounded  in 
 learning,  both  human  and  Divine.  But  he 
 says — the    Lord    is   omrdpoLent,    and   can 
 
 easily  give  us  nourishment  without  our 
 bending  our  head  to  the  ground ;  and  as 
 He  is  gracious,  He  will  bless  my  table  and 
 open  His  hand.  And  who  can  contradict 
 him  ?" 
 
 "  Why,"  said  the  young  man,  "  is  not 
 that  tempting  God  ?  Have  not  you  told 
 him  so?" 
 
 Then  Hillel  smiled  and  said,  "I  will  tell 
 him  so.  You,  dear  Maimon,  are  the  friend 
 I  am  speaking  of." 
 
 "  I  ?"  said  Maimon,  and  started  back. 
 
 But  the  old  man  replied  :  "  Are  you  not 
 tempting  the  Lord  ?  Is  prayer  less  than 
 work,  and  are  spiritual  blessings  inferior 
 to  the  fruit  of  the  field  ?  And  He  who  tells 
 you  to  stoop  your  head  to  the  earth  for  the 
 sake  of  earthly  fruit,  is  He  not  the  same 
 as  He  who  tells  you  to  lift  your  head 
 towards  heaven,  to  receive  His  heavenly 
 blessing  ?" 
 
 Thus  spake  Hillel,  and  looked  up  to  hea- 
 ven; and  iNlaimon  went  away  and  prayed, 
 and  his  life  was  a  very  godly  one. 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 PEAYEE— l^eglect  of. 
 
 I  have  seen  cobwebs  formed  on  the 
 knockers  of  some  house-door.s,  showing 
 that  they  had  very  little  use,  and  the 
 families  few  visitors.  If  some  Christians 
 were  to  look  at  the  door  of  prayer  in  their 
 closets,  would  they  not  find  many  cobwebs 
 hanging  about  the  knockers,  because  of 
 their  seldom  use  of  them  in  visiting  the 
 house  of  mercy  of  which  God  is  the  Father  ? 
 John  Bate. 
 PEAYEE— Object  of. 
 
 In  prayer  you  do  not  address  a  general 
 law  or  a  first  principle,  but  address  a  living 
 person.  You  do  not  commune  with  eter- 
 nity, or  with  infinite  space,  but  you  com- 
 mune with  the  Father  of  etern"ty, — with 
 Him  who  fills  the  highest  heavens,  and 
 who  also  dwells  in  the  lowliest  heart.  You 
 do  not  hold  converse  with  abstract  good- 
 ness, but  with  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
 Lord  Jesus  Christ;  with  God  in  Christ; 
 with  Him  whose  express  iuiage  Jesus  is  ; 
 with  Jesus  Himself;  with  your  Friend 
 within  the  vail;  with  your  Father  who  is 
 in  Heaven  !  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 PR AYEE— Objections  to. 
 
 Allow  that  some  serious  objections  could 
 be  started  against  the  efficacy  of  prayer, 
 these  objections  do  not  touch  the  evidence 
 on  which  we  believe  that  God  has  ]n-omised 
 to  hear  prayer,  nor  that  other  evidence  on 
 which  we  believe  that  lie  has  actually  heard 
 and  answeri  d  it.  The  greatness  of  creation 
 and  the  littleness  of  man,  the  decrees  of 
 God  and  the  immutability  of  natural  laws, 
 would  not  sto])  his  prayer,  nor  startle  from 
 his  knees  the  man  who  could  say — "Verily, 
 God  hath  heard  me.  He  hath  attended  to 
 
PEAYER. 
 
 tlie  voice  of  my  petition  ;"  bnt,  superior  to 
 all  speculative  difilculties,  because  secure 
 in  his  experimental  knowledge,  that  v.ise 
 and  hiippy  man  would  still  pray  on.  And 
 to  see  the  wisdom  of  this  course,  you  have 
 only  to  put  a  parallel  case.  In  the  infinite 
 variety  of  this  universe,  there  may  be  a 
 world  where  the  processes  of  growth,  and 
 decay,  and  reproduction,  so  familiar  to  us, 
 are  utterly  unknown.  Suppose  that  the 
 inhabitant  of  such  a  world  were  trans- 
 porttd  to  our  own,  and  that  he  witnessed 
 the  husbandman's  operations  in  spring.  He 
 might  marvel  what  he  meant.  He  might 
 wonder  why  he  cast  these  grains  of  corn 
 into  the  ground;  and  when  told  that  it 
 was  with  a  view  to  reproduce  them  a  hun- 
 dredfold, the  mysterious  process  might  at 
 once  assume  the  aspect  of  infatuation,  and 
 he  might  begin  to  remonstrate  v.'ith  the 
 labourer  on  this  crazy  waste  of  useful  corn; 
 and,  if  this  visitor  from  Jupiter  or  Saturn 
 were  as  acute  a  metapliysicinn  as  many  in 
 our  own  world  are,  he  might  adduce  many 
 subtle  arguments — too  subtle,  perhaps, 
 for  a  farmer  to  refute.  "  Is  not  this  a  mad 
 notion  of  yours  ?  Do  you  really  mean  to 
 atiirm,  that  this  particle  of  corn  will  grow 
 into  a  hundred  more?  Nay,  do  you  pre- 
 tend to  say  that  you  will  put  into  that 
 hole  this  hard  and  husky  atom,  and  come 
 back  in  three  months  and  find  it  changed 
 into  the  glossy  stems,  the  waving  leaves, 
 aiul  rustling  ears  of  the  tall  wheat-stalk  ? 
 What  resemblance,  or  what  adequacy  is 
 there  between  that  seed  and  a  sheaf  of 
 corn  ?  Besides,  if  a  buried  grain  is  to 
 grow  up  a  hundredfold,  why  don't  you 
 bury  diamonds  and  guineas,  and  get  them 
 multiplied  after  the  same  proportion? 
 Besides,  O  simpleton  !  do  you  know  that 
 all  these  matters  have  been  settled  and 
 fixed  from  everlasting  ?  It  has  been  fore- 
 ordained, either  that  you  are  to  have  a 
 crop  next  autunm,  or  that  you  are  to  have 
 none.  In  the  former  case,  yoiir  present 
 pains  are  needless,  lor  you  will  get  your 
 harvest  without  all  this  ado.  If  the  latter, 
 your  pains  are  useless,  for  nothing  will  pro- 
 cure you  a  crop  where  it  is  not  the  purpose 
 of  Omnipotence  that  you  should  have  one." 
 jy.d  the  ploughman  listen  to  all  this  remon- 
 strance, he  might  be  much  perplexed  with 
 it.  He  might  not  be  able  to  show  the 
 precise  way  in  which  seeds  exert  an  effi- 
 cacy on  the  future  crop  ;  and  he  might  not 
 see  at  once  the  reason  why  corn-grains 
 should  be  reproductive,  whilst  diamonds 
 and  guineas  are  not ;  and,  least  of  all,  may 
 be  able  to  disp(«e  of  tiie  fatalist  objection, 
 lint  he  might  deem  it  enough  to  refute  all 
 this  mystiticatlon  to  say — that  he  had  never 
 known  a  harvest  without  a  seed-time,  and 
 that  he  had  never  sown  sufficiently  without 
 reaping  something.  And  so,  when  a  man 
 comes  in  from   the  prayerlcss  world,  and 
 
 starts  his  objections,  a  praying  man  may 
 not  be  able  to  discuss  them  one  by  one  — 
 he  may  not  even  understand  them.  "But 
 this  I  know,  God  is  the  hearer  of  prayer, 
 and,  verily,  He  hath  heard  myself."  And, 
 like  the  farmer,  who  scatters  his  seed  heed- 
 less of  all  that  has  ever  been  said  on  neces- 
 sity and  causation,  and  general  laws,  a 
 wise  believer  will,  in  the  face  of  hypothetic 
 difficulties,  proceed  on  ascertained  facts, 
 and  amidst  objections  and  cavils,  will  per- 
 sist to  pray,  and  continue  to  enjoy  the 
 blessings  which  prayer  procures. 
 
 £>r.  J.  Samilton. 
 PLAYER— Patience  in. 
 
 How  many  courtiers  be  there  that  go  a 
 hundred  times  a  year  into  the  prince's 
 chamber,  without  hope  of  once  speaking 
 with  him,  but  only  to  be  seen  of  him. 
 So  must  we  come  to  the  exercise  of  prayer 
 purely,  and  merely  to  do  our  dutv,  and  to 
 testify  our  fidelity.  If  it  please  His  Divine 
 Majesty  to  speak,  and  discourse  with  us  by 
 His  holy  inspirations  and  interior  conso- 
 lations, it  will  be  doubtless  an  inestimable 
 honour  to  us,  and  a  pleasure  above  all 
 pleasures ;  but  if  it  please  Him  not  to  do 
 us  this  favour,  leaving  us  without  so  much 
 as  speaking  to  us,  as  if  He  saw  us  not,  or 
 as  if  we  were  not  in  His  presence,  we  must 
 not  for  all  that  go  our  way,  but  continue 
 with  decent  and  devout  behaviour  in  tlie 
 presence  of  His  Sovereign  Goodness;  and 
 then  infallibly  our  patience  will  be  accept- 
 able to  Him,  and  He  will  take  notice  of 
 our  diligence  and  perseverance;  so  that 
 another  time,  when  we  shall  come  before 
 Him,  He  will  favour  us,  and  pass  His  time 
 with  us  in  heavenly  consolations,  and  make 
 us  see  the  beauty  of  holy  prayer.         Sales. 
 
 PRAYER— Place  of. 
 
 However  early  in  the  morning  you  seek 
 the  gate  of  access,  you  find  it  already  open ; 
 and  however  deep  the  midnight  moment 
 when  you  find  yourself  in  the  sudden  arms 
 of  death,  the  winged  prayer  can  bring  an 
 instant  Saviour  near,  and  this  wherever 
 you  are.  It  needs  not  that  you  should 
 enter  some  awful  shrine,  or  put  off  your 
 shoes  on  some  holy  ground.  Conld  a  me- 
 mento be  reared  on  every  spot  from  which 
 an  acceptable  prayer  has  passed  away,  and 
 on  which  a  prompt  answer  has  come  down, 
 we  should  find  Jehovah- Shammah,  "the 
 Lord  hath  been  here,"  inscribed  on  many 
 a  cottage  hearth,  and  many  a  dungeon 
 floor.  We  should  find  it  not  only  in  Je- 
 rusalem's proud  temple,  David's  cedar 
 galleries,  but  in  the  fisherman's  cottage,  by 
 the  brink  in  Gennesareth,  and  in  the  upper 
 chamber  where  Pentecost  began.  And 
 whether  it  be  the  field  where  Isaac  went 
 to  meditate,  or  the  rocky  knoll  where  Jacob 
 lay  down  to  sleep,  or  the  brook  where  Israel 
 wrestled,  or  the  den  where  Daniel  gazed 
 
682 
 
 PEAYEE. 
 
 on  the  hungry  lions,  nnd  the  lions  gazed 
 on  him,  or  the  hillsides  where  the  Man  of 
 Sorrows  prayed  all  night,  we  should  still 
 discern  the  print  of  the  ladder's  feet  let 
 down  from  heaven,  the  landing-place  of 
 mercies,  because  the  starting-point  of 
 prayer.  Dr.  J.  Mamilton. 
 
 PEAYEE— Pre-eminence  of. 
 
 Prayer  hath  a  twofold  pre-eminence 
 above  all  other  duties  whatsoever,  in  regard 
 of  the  universality  of  its  influence,  and  op- 
 portunity for  its  performance.  The  uni- 
 versality of  its  influence.  As  every  sacri- 
 fice was  to  be  seasoned  with  salt,  so  every 
 undertaking  and  every  affliction  of  the 
 creature  must  be  sanctified  with  prayer ; 
 nay,  as  it  showeth  the  excellency  of  gold 
 that  it  is  laid  upon  silver  itself,  so  it 
 sjieaketh  the  excellency  of  prayer,  that 
 not  only  natural  and  civil,  but  even  re- 
 ligious and  spiritual  actions  are  overlaid 
 with  prayer.  We  pray  not  only  before 
 we  eat  or  drink  our  bodily  nourishment, 
 but  also  before  we  feed  on  the  bread  of  the 
 word  and  the  bread  in  the  sacrament. 
 Prayer  is  requisite  to  make  every  provi- 
 dence and  every  ordinance  blessed  to  us; 
 prayer  is  needful  to  make  our  particular 
 callings  successful.  Prayer  is  the  guard  to 
 secure  the  fort-royal  of  the  heart;  prayer 
 is  the  porter  to  keep  the  door  of  the  lips; 
 prayer  is  the  strong  liilt  which  defendeth 
 the  hands  ;  prayer  perfumes  every  relation  ; 
 ]irayer  helps  us  to  profit  by  every  cnn- 
 dition ;  prayer  is  the  chemist  that  turns 
 all  into  gold;  prayer  is  the  master- work- 
 man :  if  that  be  out  of  the  way,  the  whole 
 trade  stands  still,  or  goeth  backward. 
 "What  the  key  is  to  the  watch,  that  prayer 
 is  to  religion ;  it  winds  it  up,  and  sets  it 
 going.  It  is  before  other  duties  in  regard 
 of  opportunity  for  its  performance.  A 
 Christian  cannot  always  hear,  or  always 
 read,  or  always  communicate,  but  he  may 
 pray  continually.  No  place,  no  company 
 can  deprive  him  of  this  privilege.  If  he 
 be  on  the  top  of  a  house  with  Peter,  he 
 may  pray ;  if  he  be  in  the  bottom  of  the 
 ocean  with  Jonah,  he  may  pray ;  if  he  be 
 walking  in  the  field  with  Isaac,  he  may 
 pray  when  no  eye  seeth  him ;  if  he  be 
 waiting  at  table  with  Neliemiah,  he  may 
 pray  when  no  ear  lieareth  him.  If  he  be 
 in  the  mountains  with  our  Savour,  he  may 
 pray;  if  he  be  in  the  prisin  with  Paul, 
 he  may  pray ;  wherever  he  is,  prayer  will 
 help  him  to  find  God  out.  Every  saint  is 
 God's  temple;  "and  he  that  carrieth  his 
 temple  about  him,"  saith  Austin,  "  may  go 
 to  prayer  when  he  pleaseth."  Indeed,  to 
 a  Christian  every  house  is  a  house  of 
 prayer,  every  closet  a  chamber  of  presence, 
 and  every  place  he  comes  to  an  altar 
 whereon  he  may  ofler  the  sacrifice  of  prayer. 
 SivinnocL: 
 
 PEAYEE— Power  of. 
 
 An  immense  power  is  given  ns — a  direct 
 influence  on  the  governor  of  worlds— 
 prayer. 
 
 Prayer  is  a  power ;  and,  if  on  earth  it 
 has  a  contested  authority,  it  rules  like  a 
 queen  in  heaven. 
 
 God  dwells  far  oflp  from  us — lost,  so  to 
 speak,  in  the  bright  empyrean.  Prayer 
 brings  Him  down  amongst  us,  brings  Him 
 to  our  earth,  and  links  His  power  with  our 
 ettbrts.  Madame  de  Gasparin, 
 
 There  is  a  kind  of  omnipotency  in  prayer, 
 as  having  an  interest  and  prevalency  with 
 God's  Omnipotency.  It  hath  loosed  iron 
 chains  (Acts  xvi,  25,  26).  It  hath  opened 
 iron  gates  (Acts  xii,  5,  10) ;  it  hath  un- 
 locked the  windows  of  heaven  (1  Kings 
 xviii,  41) ;  it  hath  broken  the  bars  of 
 death  (John  xi,  40,  43).  Satan  hath  three 
 titles  given  in  the  Scrijjtures,  setting  forth 
 his  malignity  against  the  Ciiurch  of  God: 
 a  dragon,  to  note  his  malice ;  a  serpent,  to 
 note  his  subtilty ;  and  a  lion,  to  note  his 
 strength.  But  none  of  all  these  can  stand 
 before  prayer.  The  greatest  malice,  the 
 malice  of  Haman,  sinks  under  the  prayer 
 of  Esther;  the  deepest  policy,  the  counsel 
 of  Ahithophel,  withers  before  the  prayer 
 of  David  ;  the  hugest  army,  a  liost  of  a 
 thousand  Ethiopians,  run  away  like  cowards 
 before  the  prayer  of  Asa.       Bp.  Reynolds. 
 
 Prayer  has  divided  seas,  rolled  up  flow- 
 ing rivers,  made  flinty  rocks  gush  into 
 fountains,  quenched  flames  of  fire,  muzzled 
 lions,  disarmed  vipeis  and  poisons,  mar- 
 shalled  the  stars  against  the  wicked,  stopped 
 the  course  of  tlie  moon,  arrested  the  sun  in 
 its  rapid  race,  burst  open  iron  gates,  re- 
 called souls  from  eternity,  conquered  the 
 strongest  devils,  commanded  legions  of 
 angels  down  from  heaven.  Prayer  has 
 bridled  and  chained  the  raging  passions  of 
 man,  and  routed  and  destroyed  vast  armies 
 of  proud,  daring,  blustering  atheists. 
 Prayer  has  brought  one  man  from  the 
 bottom  of  the  sea,  and  carried  another  in 
 a  chariot  of  fire  to  heaven  !  What  has  not 
 prayer  done  ?  Dr.  Ryland. 
 
 More  things  are  wrought  by  prayer 
 Than  this  world  dreams  ol.      Wherefore 
 
 let  thy  voice 
 Rise  like  a  fountain  for  me  night  and  day  : 
 For  what  are   men   better   than   sheep  or 
 
 goats,_ 
 That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 
 If,   knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of 
 
 prayer. 
 Both  for  themselves  and  those  who  call 
 
 them  friend  ! 
 For  so  the  whole  round  world  is  every  way 
 Bound  by  gold    chains  about  the  feet  of 
 
 God.  I'ennyson, 
 
PEAYER. 
 
 683 
 
 PEAYER— Power  of. 
 
 Prayer  can  obtain  everything;  can  open 
 the  windows  of  heaven  and  shut  the  gates 
 of  hell;  can  put  a  holy  constraint  upon 
 God,  and  detain  an  angel  till  he  leave  a 
 blessing;  can  open  the  treasures  of  rain, 
 and  soften  the  iron  ribs  of  rocks  till  they 
 melt  into  a  flowing  river;  can  arrest  the 
 sun  in  his  course,  and  send  the  winds  upon 
 our  errands.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 It  draws  down  gifts  from  heaven.  It 
 fills  the  empty  soul.  It  brings  strength 
 to  the  weak,  true  riches  to  the  poor,  grace 
 to  the  feeble.  It  is  a  bank  of  wealth,  a 
 mine  of  mercies,  a  store  of  blessings.  It 
 flies  where  the  eagle  never  flew.  It  travels 
 further,  and  moves  faster,  than  the  light. 
 Well  might  Mary,  Queen  of  Scotland,  say, 
 "  I  fear  John  Knox's  prayers  more  than 
 an  army  of  ten  thousand  men." 
 
 "  Prayer  makes  the  darkened  cloud  with- 
 draw; 
 Prayer  climbs  the  ladder  Jacob  saw ; 
 Gives  exercise  to  faith  and  love; 
 Brings  every  blessing  from  above." 
 
 Oxenden. 
 
 A  gay,  dissipated  young  man  went  one 
 day  to  bis  pious  mother,  and  said,  "  Mother, 
 I  am  going  to  a  ball  to-night."  She  ex- 
 postulated with  him,  and  urged  him  not 
 to  go  by  every  argument  in  her  power. 
 He  answered,  "Mother,  I  will  go;  and  it 
 is  useless  to  say  anything  about  it."  When 
 he  was  going  out,  she  stopped  him,  and 
 said,  "  My  child,  do  not  go."  He  said  he 
 would.  She  then  said  to  him,  "  My  son, 
 while  you  are  dancing  tviih  your  gay  com- 
 panions in  the  lall-room,  I shallhe  praying 
 to  the  Lord  to  convert  your  soul."  He 
 went — the  ball  coiinnenced ;  but  instead 
 of  the  usual  gaiety,  an  unaccountable  gloom 
 pervaded  the  whole  assembly.  One  said, 
 "  We  never  had  such  a  dull  meeting  in  our 
 lives  ;"  another,  "I  wish  we  had  not  come ; 
 we  have  no  life,  we  cannot  get  along ;"  a 
 third,  "  I  cannot  think  what  is  the  matter." 
 The  young  man  instantly  Ijurst  into  tears, 
 and  said,  "  I  know  what  is  the  matter ;  my 
 poor  old  mother  is  now  praying  for  her 
 ungodly  son."  He  took  his  hat,  and  said, 
 "  I  will  never  be  found  in  such  a  place  as 
 this  again ;"  and  left  the  company.  To  be 
 short,  the  Lord  converted  his  soul.  He 
 became  a  member  of  the  Christian  church. 
 Phillips. 
 PEAYEE— Profit  of. 
 
 Prayer,  like  Jonathan's  bow,  returns  not 
 empty;  never  was  faithful  prayer  lost;  no 
 tradesman  trades  with  such  certainty  as 
 the  praying  saint;  some  prayers,  indeed, 
 have  a  longer  voyage  than  others,  but 
 then  they  return  with  their  richer  lading 
 
 at  last,  so  that  the  praying  soul  is  a  gainer 
 by  waiting  for  an  answer.  Gurnall, 
 
 After  praying,  is  not  the  heart  lighter, 
 and  the  soul  happier  ?  Prayer  renders 
 affliction  less  sorrowful,  and  joy  more  pure. 
 It  mingles  with  the  one  an  unspeakable 
 sweetness,  and  adds  to  the  other  a  celestial 
 perfume.  Sometimes  there  passes  over 
 the  fields  a  wind  which  parches  the  plants, 
 and  then  their  withered  stems  will  droop 
 towards  the  earth  ;  but  watered  by  the 
 dew  they  regain  their  freshness,  and  lift 
 up  their  languishing  heads.  So  there  are 
 always  burning  winds  which  pass  over  the 
 soul  and  wither  it.  Prayer  is  the  dew 
 which  refreshes  it  again.  Lamennais. 
 
 PEAYEE— Propriety  of. 
 
 A  gentleman  of  fine  social  qualities,  al- 
 ways ready  to  make  liberal  provision  for 
 the  gratification  of  his  children,  a  man  of 
 science,  and  a  moralist  of  the  strictest 
 school,  was  sceptical  in  regard  to  prayer, 
 thinking  it  superfluous  to  ask  God  for 
 what  nature  had  already  furnished  ready 
 to  hand.  His  eldest  son  became  a  disciple 
 of  Christ.  The  father,  while  recognising 
 a  happy  change  in  the  spirit  and  deport- 
 ment of  the  youth,  still  harped  upon  his 
 old  objection  to  prayer,  as  unphilosophical 
 and  unnecessary. 
 
 "  I  remember,"  said  the  son,  "  that  I 
 once  made  free  use  of  your  pictures,  speci- 
 mens, and  instruments,  for  the  entertain- 
 ment of  my  friends.  When  you  came  home 
 you  said  to  me,  '  All  that  I  have  belongs 
 to  my  children,  and  I  have  provided  it  on 
 purpose  for  them ;  still,  I  think  it  would 
 be  respectful  always  to  ask  your  father 
 before  taking  anything.'  And  so,"  added 
 the  son,  "  although  God  has  provided 
 everything  for  me,  I  think  it  is  respectful 
 to  ask  Him,  and  to  thank  Hiui  for  what  I 
 use." 
 
 The  sceptic  was  silent;  but  he  has  since 
 admitted  that  he  has  never  been  able  to  in- 
 vent an  answer  to  this  simple,  persimal, 
 sensible  argument  for  prayer.  Anon, 
 
 PEAYEE— Protection  of. 
 
 Among  the  elegant  forms  of  insect  life, 
 there  is  a  little  creature  known  to  natural- 
 ists which  can  gather  round  it  a  sufiiciency 
 of  atn)ospheric  air — and,  so  clothed  upon, 
 it  descends  into  the  bottom  of  the  pool, 
 and  you  may  see  the  little  diver  moving 
 about  dry  and  at  his  ease,  protected  by  his 
 crystal  vesture,  though  the  water  all 
 around  and  above  be  stagnant  and  bitter. 
 Prayer  is  such  a  protector — a  transparent 
 vesture,  the  world  sees  it  not — but  a  real 
 defence,  it  keeps  out  the  world.  By  means 
 of  it  the  believer  can  gather  so  much  of 
 heaven's  atmosphere  around  h'.m,  and  with 
 it  descend  into  the  putrid  depths  of  this 
 
€84 
 
 PSAYE2. 
 
 contaminnling-  v.-nrlJ,  that,  for  a  season  no 
 evil  will  touch  him;  and  he  knows  where 
 to  ascend  for  a  fresh  supply.  Communion 
 with  God  kept  Daniel  pure  in  Babylon. 
 Nothing  else  can  keep  ns  safe  in  London. 
 In  the  "  secret  of  God's  presence "  you 
 might  tread  these  giddy  streets,  and  your 
 e^'es  never  view  the  vanity.  You  might 
 pass  theatres  and  tavei-ns,  and  never  dream 
 of  entering  in.  You  might  get  invitations 
 to  ndisy  routs  and  God-forgettingassemhlies, 
 and  have  no  heart  to  go.  Golden  images, 
 public  opinion,  with  its  lion's  den;  and 
 fishion,  with  its  fierj'  furnace,  would  never 
 disturb  you.  A  man  of  prayer  in  this 
 mart  of  nations,  you  could  pass  upon  your 
 way  iinseduced  and  undistracted,  a  Chris- 
 tian in  Vanity  Fair,  a  pilgrim  in  a  para- 
 dise of  fools,  a  worshipper  amidst  idolaters, 
 a  Daniel  in  Babylon.         Dr.  J.  SamiUon. 
 
 PEAYEE,— Safety  of. 
 
 By  the  Omnipotent  help  which  it  at 
 once  secures,  prayer  is  strength  in  weak- 
 ness, and  cour.ige  in  dismay.  It  is  the 
 buoy  which  rides  the  roaring  flood,  the 
 asbestos-robe  which  defies  the  devouring 
 flame.  It  is  the  tent  in  wliich  frailty 
 sleeps  secure,  and  anguish  forgets  to  moan. 
 It  is  the  shield  on  which  the  world  and 
 the  wicked  one  expend  their  darts  in  vain. 
 And  when  panic,  and  temptation,  and 
 aa:ony  are  all  over — whether  wafted  by 
 Sabbath  zephyrs,  or  winged  by  scorch- 
 ing flame — whether  guided  by  hymning 
 angels,  or  dragged  by  raging  lions — 
 whether  the  starting-point  be  Patmos,  or 
 Jerusalem,  or  Smithtield,  or  Babylon — it 
 is  the  chariot  wlilch  conveys  the  departing 
 spirit  into  a  Saviour's  arms.  Ihid. 
 
 PEAYER— Sincere. 
 
 God  looks  not  at  the  oratory  of  your 
 prayers,  how  elegant  they  may  be;  nor  at 
 the  geometry  of  your  prayers,  how  long 
 they  may  be;  nor  at  the  arithmetic  of 
 your  prayers,  how  many  they  may  be ; 
 nor  at  the  logic  of  your  prayers,  how 
 methodical  they  may  be;  but  the  sincerity 
 of  them  He  looks  at.  T.  Brooks. 
 
 PEAYEE— Specific. 
 
 From  the  want  of  this  determinateness 
 and  precise  discrimination  in  our  objects 
 of  transaction  with  God,  we  retire  from 
 our  devotions,  without  any  vivid  impres- 
 sions of  what  we  have  been  seeking  of  Him  ; 
 and  we  afterwards  look  abroad  without 
 distinct  views  of  any  relation  between 
 what  takes  place  in  the  church,  and  what 
 we  carried  on  in  the  oratory.  It  is  not  thus 
 we  ask  favours  of  each  other.  A  beggar 
 at  our  door  begging  indefinitely  for  "  no- 
 thing particular,"  would  not  be  likely  to 
 meet  with  relief.  Civic  and  corporate 
 petitions  to  the  senate,  or  the  throne,  with- 
 
 out a  fixed  prayer  and  determinate  reqnest, 
 would  have  neither  attention  nor  gracious 
 answer.  We  have  no  reason  to  expect 
 different  and  better  results  from  our  in- 
 definite and  unsettled  transactions  with 
 God.  Look  to  the  record  of  the  Spirit, 
 and  you  will  discover  that  all  the  answei-s 
 registered  in  that  book  were  specific  re- 
 plies to  requests  distinctly  meant  and 
 proffered.  Br.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 
 There  was  once  a  coloured  woman  who 
 used  to  sit  in  one  corner  of  the  gallery  on 
 the  Sabbath,  and  single  out  some  young 
 man,  as  he  came  in  at  the  door,  and  pray 
 for  him,  till  she  saw  him  come  forward  to 
 join  the  church.  Then  she  dropped  him, 
 and  singled  out  another  and  prayed  for 
 him  in  like  manner,  till  she  witnessed  a 
 similar  result.  Then  she  dropped  him  and 
 took  a  third,  and  so  on,  till  at  the  end  of 
 twenty  years  she  had  seen  tweiity  young 
 men  join  themselves  to  the  Lord  in  a  per- 
 petual covenant :  young  men  with  whom 
 she  had  no  personal  acquaintance  what- 
 ever. This  fact  was  disclosed  to  her  pastor 
 on  her  death-bed.  Smith. 
 
 PSAYEE.— Theory  and  Practice  of. 
 
 Prayer,  like  faith  (of  which  it  is  the 
 voice  and  expression),  is  a  thing  perfectly 
 simple  in  idea,  but  exceedingly  ditticult  of 
 execution.  If  you  can  pray  aright,  you 
 have  mastered  the  great  secret  of  the 
 spiritual  life;  but  easy  as  it  is  to  under- 
 stand theoretically  what  right  prayer  is,  it 
 is  far  from  easy  to  practise  it. 
 
 Br.  Goulhiirn. 
 
 PR  AYEE— Unceasing. 
 
 In  this  precept — to  pray  ahoai/s — there 
 is  nothing  of  exaggeration,  nothing  com- 
 manded which  may  not  be  fulfilled,  when 
 we  understand  of  prayer  as  the  continual 
 desire  of  the  soul  after  God ;  having,  in- 
 deed, its  times  of  intensity,  seasons  of  an 
 iritenser  concentration  of  the  spiritual  life, 
 but  not  being  confined  to  those  tiuics ; 
 since  the  whole  lil'e  of  the  faithful  should 
 be,  in  Origeu's  beautiful  words,  one  great 
 connected  prayer— or,  as  St.  Basil  expresses 
 it,  prayer  should  be  the  salt,  which  is  to 
 salt  everytliing  besides.  "  That  soul,"  says 
 Donne,  "  that  is  accustomed  to  direct  her- 
 self to  God  upon  every  occasion;  that,  as 
 a  flower  at  sunrising,  conceives  a  sense  of 
 God  in  every  beam  of  His,  and  spreads  and 
 dilates  itself  towards  Him,  in  a  thank- 
 fulness, in  every  small  blessing  that  He 
 sheds  upon  her — that  soul  who,  whatso- 
 ever string  be  stricken  in  her,  bass  or 
 treble,  her  high  or  her  low  estate,  is  ever 
 turned  toward  God ; — that  soul  prays 
 sometimes  when  it  does  not  know  that  it 
 prays."  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
PRAYER— PEAYEE-MEETINGS. 
 
 685 
 
 PRAYER— "Watching  unto. 
 
 When  an  archer  shoots  his  arrow  at  a 
 mark,  he  Hkes  to  go  and  see  whether  he 
 has  hit  it,  or  how  near  he  has  come  to  it. 
 When  you  have  written  and  sent  ofi"  a 
 letter  to  a  friend,  you  expect  some  day 
 tliat  the  postman  will  he  knocking  at  the 
 door  with  an  answer.  When  a  child  asks 
 his  father  for  something  he  looks  in  his 
 face,  even  before  he  speaks,  to  see  if  he  is 
 pleased,  and  read  acceptance  in  his  eyes. 
 But  it  is  to  be  greatly  feared  that  many 
 people  feel  when  their  prayers  are  over  as 
 if  they  had  quite  done  with  them.  Their 
 only  concern  was  to  get  them  said.  An 
 old  heathen  poet  speaks  of  Jupiter  throw- 
 ing certain  prayers  to  the  winds — dis- 
 persing them  "  in  empty  air."  It  is  sad 
 to  think  that  we  so  otien  do  that  for  our- 
 selves. What  would  you  think  of  a  man 
 who  had  written,  and  folded,  and  sealed, 
 and  addressed  a  letter,  flinging  it  out  into 
 tile  street,  and  thinking  no  more  about  it  ? 
 Sailors  in  foundering  ships  sometimes 
 commit  notes  in  sealed  bottles  to  the 
 waves,  for  the  chance  of  their  being  some 
 day  washed  on  some  shore.  Sir  John 
 Pranklin's  companions  among  the  snows, 
 and  Captain  Allen  Gardiner,  dying  of  hun- 
 ger in  his  cave,  wrote  words  they  could  not 
 be  sure  any  one  would  ever  read.  But  we 
 do  not  need  to  think  of  bur  prayers  as  ran- 
 dom messages.  We  sliould,  therefore,  look 
 for  reply  to  them,  and  watch  to  get  it. 
 
 Dr.  Edmond. 
 
 PRAYER  THROUGH  CHRIST. 
 
 When  you  send  your  prayers,  be  sure  to 
 direct  them  to  the  care  of  the  Redeemer, 
 and  then  they  will  never  miscarry. 
 
 M.  Henry. 
 
 When  you  finish  up  your  prayers  you 
 say,  "through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 
 You,  of  course,  think  what  that  means. 
 You  don't  say  that  because  it  is  a  sort  of 
 nice  turn  to  the  sentence,  and  is  fashionable 
 for  you  to  say  it.  You  mean  something  by 
 it.  When  I  say  that,  I  feel  that  I  then 
 put  my  prayer  in  Christ's  hands.  Suppose 
 you  had  to  draw  up  a  petition  to  Queen 
 Victoria,  and  you  had  never  done  such  a 
 thing  in  your  life,  you  would  be  afraid  of 
 making  twenty  blunders.  Suppose  Albert 
 Edward  were  to  say,  "Put  it  into  my  hands; 
 you  don't  know  how  to  do  it  j  I  do ;  and 
 what  is  wrong  I  will  put  out,  and  what  is 
 wanting  I  will  put  in ;  and  1  will  put  my 
 own  name  to  it,  and  present  it  to  the 
 queen  for  you."  Well,  now,  when  the 
 queen  heard  it,  would  it  not  be  more  likely 
 to  prevail  than  if  she  had  heard  it  as  you 
 wrote  it  ?  Now,  when  1  make  my  prayer, 
 poor  silly  soul  that  I  am,  I  pray  for  twenty 
 wrong  things,  but  Chi'ist  never  takes  these 
 
 blunders  up.  He  puts  out  all  that  is  wrong 
 
 and  puts  in  all  that  is  wanted,  and  He  puts 
 
 His  own  name  to  it  and  presents  it  to  God. 
 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 Prayer  offered  up  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
 Christ  is  like  Jacob's  ladder,  on  which 
 the  soul  ascends  from  earth  to  heaven. 
 And  as  soon  as  the  prayer  ascends,  the 
 angel  of  Divine  consolation  descends  back 
 with  it.  Thus  it  was  in  the  agony  of  our 
 blessed  Lord,  when  He  prayed  more 
 earnestly,  lo !  an  angel  descended  from 
 heaven  to  strengthen  Him.  And  we  may 
 assure  ourselves,  that  whensoever  we  pray 
 according  to  His  will,  we  shall  be 
 strengthened  according  to  His  pro-mise. 
 
 John  Arndt. 
 
 PRAYER  AND  PRAISE— Continuance  in. 
 'Tis  great  reason  that  we  should  con- 
 tinue to  pray,  because  our  wants  continue  j 
 and  'tis  as  great  reason  that  we  should 
 continue  to  praise,  because  our  mercies 
 continue.  Who  is  there  so  full  that  wants 
 nothing  ?  and  who  so  empty,  but  hath 
 something  ?  Let  none  give  over  praying, 
 but  he  that  wants  nothing;  and  let  none 
 give  over  praising,  that  hath  anything.  I& 
 not  the  mercy  we  want  worth  asking  ?  and 
 is  not  the  mercy  we  have  worth  the  ac- 
 knowledging ?  Yenning. 
 
 PRAYER-MEETIKGS— the   Church  Tiier- 
 
 Well,  what  is  that  ?  Ask  any  veteran 
 pastor  who  has  weathered  the  storms  and 
 rejoiced  in  the  sunshines  of  a  long  minis- 
 terial life,  and  he  will  tell  you  th^it  it  i» 
 the  social  prayer-meeting.  The  true  ther- 
 mometer of  a  church, to  indicate  its  spiritual 
 temperature,  is  the  weekly  gath.ering- 
 around  the  mercy-seat.  A  cold  prayer- 
 meeting  marks  a  cold  church.  It  is  at 
 once  the  cause  and  the  ellect  of  spiritual 
 declension. 
 
 If  the  place  of  prayer  is  wellnigh  de- 
 serted ;  if  the  few  who  are  present  bodily 
 seem  absent  in  spirit ;  if  the  prayers  of- 
 fered are  languid,  formal,  meaningless, 
 without  point,  and  without  unction, — thea 
 the  pastor  has  abundant  cause  for  hieart- 
 heaviness  and  tears.  Sermons  preached  tO' 
 such  a  people,  are  like  discourses  deliyered 
 in  one  of  the  ruined  temples  of  Luixor, 
 with  the  shrivelled  dead  embalmed  around 
 him,  and  grim  heads  of  stone  looking 
 down  from  every  capital.  His  hands  hang: 
 down,  and  his  spirit  faints. 
 
 And  as  a  church  has  no  surer  symptora 
 of  decay  than  a  decaying  prayer-meeting, 
 so  nothing  feels  the  approach  of  a  revival 
 so  palpably  as  the  place  of  prayer.  A  re- 
 vival commonly  begins  there.  The  de- 
 serted seats  are  filled.  Those  who  '•  covht 
 not   leave  their   business,"  now   tind  but 
 
PfiAYER-MEETINGS— PREACHERS. 
 
 little  difficulty  in  closing  the  doors  of  their 
 shops  or  their  counting-rooins.  The  ab- 
 sent Thomases  are  once  more  with  the  de- 
 serted flock  of  discii)les,  and  wonder  to  find 
 the  risen  Saviour  there  too,  with  His  bene- 
 dictions. Those  who  seldom  prayed,  are 
 now  ready  to  pour  out  their  souls  in  sup- 
 plication. The  "gift  of  toijpues"  has  de- 
 scended. The  slow  of  speech  have  become 
 eloquent.  The  timid  have  grown  bold. 
 The  sluggish  are  mounting  up  with  wings 
 as  eagles.  A  latent  power  is  developed  in 
 the  church,  which  astounds  both  pastor 
 and  people.  The  prayer-meeting,  too,  be- 
 comes a  place  for  communion  with  each 
 other,  as  well  as  for  communion  with  God. 
 Old  ditlei-ences  are  forgotten.  Old  wounds 
 are  healed.  Church  members  will  grasp 
 each  other's  hands,  and  inquire  about  a 
 neighbour's  spiritual  health,  with  more  so- 
 licitude than  they  manifest  in  asking  about 
 a  sick  friend.  They  will  linger  together 
 about  the  hallowed  spot,  talking  of  the 
 mercies  of  God  to  tlieir  souls,  and  they 
 will  be  loath  to  go  away.  They  are  one  in 
 heart;  the  church  is  a  living  unity. 
 
 The  experienced  mariner  constantly 
 "  consults  the  glass."  Brethren !  if  we 
 are  wise,  we,  too,  will  keep  a  look-out 
 upon  the  thermometer  of  the  church.  A 
 prayer-meeting  "  below  freezing  point  "  is 
 a  fatal  indication.  T.  Cuyler. 
 
 PRAYER-MEETINGS— Sunday  Morning. 
 
 I  have  been  endeavouring  to  establish 
 among  us  what  are  culled  A;iron  and  Hur 
 Societies,  i.e.  little  collections  of  four  or 
 five,  or  more  persons,  who  meet  before  ser- 
 vice on  Sabbath  morning,  to  spend  an  hour 
 in  prayer  for  a  blessing  on  the  minister 
 and  the  ordinances.  Tliey  began  on  New 
 Year's  Day,  and  we  seemed  to  have  an  im- 
 mediate answer,  for  the  meeting  was  un- 
 usually solemn,  and  we  have  reason  to  hope 
 that  the  VV'ord  was  not  preached  in  vain. 
 JDr.  Fai/son. 
 
 PREACHERS— with  Hot  Hearts. 
 
 A  Chinese  convert  once  remarked  in  a 
 conversation  with  a  missionary,  "We  want 
 men  with  hot  hearts  to  tell  us  of  the  love 
 of  Christ." 
 
 The  truth  thus  stated  hy  the  Chinese 
 convert  might  be  more  elegantly  expressed. 
 Still  the  secret  of  effective  speech,  especially 
 in  the  presentation  of  Scripture  truth,  is 
 revealed  in  that  single  striking  expression. 
 
 Most  assuredly  the  heart  of  the  preacher 
 and  the  teacher  should  always  be  in  sym- 
 pathy with  his  theme,  and  should  be  kin- 
 dled by  it ;  and  if  the  theme  is  the  love  of 
 Christ,  the  heart  that  glows  with  that  love 
 is  the  one  to  utter  it.  It  will  be  a  hot 
 heart.  It  will  burn  with  that  zeal  which 
 led  Paul  to  beseech  "  earnestly  with  tears ;" 
 which  was  the  charm  of  Payson's  sermons, 
 
 and  the  secret  of  Felix  NefTs  success  on  the 
 bleak  heights  of  the  Alps.  It  is  that  which 
 above  all  else  the  preacher  needs.  Argu- 
 ment, method,  rhetoric,  gesture,  all  have 
 their  place ;  but  it  is  the  hot  heart  which 
 makes  them  effective.  Instruction  in  sound 
 doctrine  is  the  fuel  of  truth,  but  the  heart 
 kindles  it ;  turns  it  into  "  thoughts  tiiat 
 breathe  and  words  that  burn."  Anon. 
 
 PREACHERS— Revival  and  Lukewarm. 
 
 Laodicean  preachers  compose  sermons 
 that,  like  a  prism,  make  their  congregation 
 feel  delighted  and  charmed  with  the  di- 
 versified hues  and  colours  of  their  imagery, 
 lievival  ministers  make  their  sermons  like 
 a  lens,  to  concentrate  the  rays  of  truth, 
 and  exhibit  them  with  unflinching  hand, 
 in  near  connection  with  the  sinner,  till 
 they  burn  and  inflame  his  heart. 
 
 Dr.  T.  W.  Jenlnjn. 
 
 PREACHERS— Secular. 
 
 'Tis  a  very  sad  thing  when  preachers 
 shall  be  like  printers,  who  many  times 
 compose  and  print  oft"  many  things  which 
 they  neither  understand,  love,  nor  have  any 
 experience  of  j  all  they  aim  at  is  money 
 for  printing,  which  is  their  trade ;  or 
 when  they  shall  be  like  gentlemen-ushers, 
 who  bring  ladies  to  their  pesvs,  but  go  not 
 in  themselves ;  bring  others  to  heaven,  and 
 themselves  stay  without.  Yenning. 
 
 PREACHERS— Soul-Converting. 
 
 There  are  preacher.s,  by  myriads  and 
 majorities,  and  deeply  pious  ones  too,  that 
 never  once  in  all  their  lives  distinctly  con- 
 centrated their  purposes  to  the  single  point 
 of  conveiting  men.  Their  efforts  are  to 
 finish  an  eloquent  sermon,  to  develop  theo- 
 logical or  Biblical  truth,  to  thrill  a3stheti- 
 cally  an  audience,  to  pour  forth  general 
 religious  emotion,  to  spread  a  pojnilar 
 fame,  to  gather  crowds,  to  build  a  large 
 church,  &c.  Verily  these  have  often  their 
 reward,  namely  success  in  their  objects. 
 But  here  is  a  lonesome  preacher,  who  does 
 not  object  to  all  these  ;  but,  with  or  with- 
 out them,  by  study,  by  closet,  by  pulpit, 
 by  pastoral  work,  some  or  all,  he  means  to 
 convert  souls,  and  just  so  many  as  he  can. 
 Where  this  is  attained  all  the  other  suc- 
 cess is  well  enough.  Where  this  is  not 
 attained,  all  the  other  success  does  not 
 comfort  him  a  penny;  he  goes  off  crest- 
 lallen  and  disappointed,  indignant  at  the 
 devil  and  himself.  He  wdl  not  stay  there 
 where  Satan  has  beaten  him;  but  he  will 
 go  where,  please  God,  he  can  get  some 
 souls. 
 
 Maffitt,  in  his  golden  days,  did  convert 
 his  thousands,  surpassing  j\lr.  Caughey  in 
 this  respect,  for  that  was  his  unerring  aim. 
 Bascom  aimed  to  be  the  pulpit  orator; 
 his  purpose  terminated  in  the  elaborate 
 
PREACHING. 
 
 687 
 
 harangue,  the  thrilled  audience,  and  the 
 gathering  crowd.  He  did  not  entertain 
 the  downright  purpose  of  conversion.  Sura- 
 mertield  terminated  his  effort  with  pouring 
 his  own  rich  religious  emotions  upon  his 
 melting  congregation ;  but  his  emotion 
 did  not  go  forth  into  the  sharp  volition 
 and  the  determined  practical  drudgery  of 
 action.  And  we  think  that  this  same 
 analysis  exercised  upon  every  minister  of 
 strength  and  ability,  would,  in  nearly  every 
 case,  bring  out  the  answer  to  the  question, 
 What  prevents  this  able  minister  from  con- 
 verting souls  ?  He  does  not,  in  the  full 
 force  of  the  word,  try.  Dr.  Wheedon. 
 
 PREACHING— Absence  of  Pov^er  in. 
 
 Absence  of  power  is  sometimes  so  clear, 
 that  the  soul  that  has  come  to  the  house  of 
 God  seeking  bread,  painfully  feels  that  it 
 is  getting  but  a  stone;  and  never  is  that 
 feeling  so  painful  as  when  all  that  ought 
 to  attend  upon  spiritual  power  is  there — 
 the  truth  well  understood  and  well  stated 
 — all  the  lineaments  and  outward  forms 
 that  would  lead  us  to  expect  life,  but,  when 
 we  draw  near,  there  is  no  breath  in  it. 
 Sometimes  one  may  see  that  this  soulless 
 thing  is  not  a  wax  figure  which  never 
 breathed,  but  a  corpse  from  which  the  life 
 is  gone.  The  truths,  now  uttered  with 
 such  impotence,  once  thrilled  through  men 
 as  they  fell  from  those  lips ;  the  appeals 
 which  now  grate,  like  a  chime  of  cracked 
 bells,  once  carried  multitudes  before  them. 
 In  days  gone  by  many  rose  up  to  bless 
 this  man  as  a  messenger  of  God;  to-day 
 his  words  are  as  a  tale  twice  told.  Per- 
 haps, conscious  of  the  loss  of  the  real 
 power,  he  endeavours  to  compensate  for 
 it  by  a  greater  force  of  physical  oratory, 
 spurring  himself  to  impetuosity,  or  swell- 
 ing to  lofty  and  solemn  impressiveness ; 
 but  it  is  only  as  when  a  ship  in  a  calm 
 makes  her  sails  bulge  by  rolling;  they 
 flap  and  rustle,  but  there  is  no  strength 
 in  them,  as  when  filled  by  the  silent  wind 
 they  bore  the  vessel  onward. 
 
 W.  Arthur. 
 PREACHING— Activity  in. 
 
 The  Rev.  David  Stoner,  from  the  time 
 he  commenced  preaching  to  his  death,  a 
 period  of  nearly  fourteen  years,  preached 
 four  thousand  and  forty-three  times. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 PREACHING— Affectionate. 
 
 I  would  have  every  minister  of  the 
 Gospel  address  his  audience  with  the  zeal 
 of  a  friend,  with  the  generous  energy  of 
 a  father,  and  with  the  exuberant  affection 
 of  a  mother.  Fenelon. 
 
 PREACHING— Christ  in. 
 
 To  preach  practical  sermons,  as  they  are 
 called,  that  is,  sermons  upon  virtues  and 
 
 vices,  without  inculcating  those  great 
 Scripture  truths  of  redemption,  grace,  &c., 
 which  alone  can  incite  and  enable  us  to 
 forsake  sin  and  follow  righteousness — what 
 is  it  but  to  put  together  the  wheels,  and 
 set  the  hands  of  a  watch,  forgetting  the 
 spring,  which  is  to  make  them  all  go  ? 
 
 .^  Bp.  Home. 
 
 As  light  to  the  sun.  as  the  heart  to  the 
 body,  as  weight  to  the  hammer,  as  the 
 foundation  to  the  building,  as  point  to  the 
 spear,  as  edge  to  the  sword,  as  fruitfulness 
 to  the  tree,  so  is  Christ  in  preaching;  and 
 preaching  without  Christ  can  no  more  en- 
 lighten the  world  than  the  sun  without 
 light,  &c.,  &c.  John  Bate. 
 
 PREACHING— Christ  out  of. 
 
 It  is  asserted  that  a  fashionable  preacher, 
 after  having  taken  for  his  text  these  words 
 of  St.  Paul,  "  I  will  know  nothing  among 
 you  but  Christ,  and  Christ  crucified," 
 managed  not  to  repeat  this  name  a  single 
 time.  It  was  easy  ;  instead  of  speaking  of 
 devotion  to  the  Saviour,  he  spoke  of  devo- 
 tion in  general,  one  of  the  favorite  themes 
 of  the  theo-philanthropy  of  the  day. 
 
 The  Preacher  and  the  King. 
 
 PREACHING— Common-Sense. 
 
 When  a  preacher  provides  for  his  con- 
 gregation, as  some  persons  do  for  their 
 guests,  good,  substantial  dishes,  which  any 
 healthy  appetites  may  relish  and  enjoy,  I 
 should  say  that  his  preaching  is  charac- 
 terised by  a  very  valuable  element — com- 
 mon sense.  John  Bate. 
 
 PREACHING— Dignity  of. 
 
 Can  earth  affbrd 
 Such  genuine  state,  pre-eminence  so  free, 
 As  when  array'd  in  Christ's  authority, 
 He  from  the  pulpit  lifts  his  awful  hand; 
 Conjures,  implores,  and  labours  all  he  can 
 For  re-subjecting  to  Divine  command 
 The  stubborn  spirit  of  rebellious  man. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 PREACHING— Disinterested. 
 
 I  love  a  serious  preacher,  who  speaks  for 
 my  sake  and  not  for  his  own ;  who  seeks 
 my  salvation,  and  not  his  own  vain  glory. 
 He  best  deserves  to  be  heard,  who  uses 
 speech  only  to  clothe  his  thoughts,  and 
 his  thoughts  only  to  promote  truth  and 
 virtue.  Nothing  is  more  detestable  than 
 a  professed  declaimer,  who  retails  his  dis- 
 courses  as  a  quack  does  his  medicine. 
 
 Massillon. 
 PREACHING— Dull. 
 
 I  almost  think  there  ought  to  be  a  tax 
 imposed  on  every  dull  good  man  who  ven- 
 tures to  open  his  lips  in  the  way  of  moral 
 prosing,  considering  the  injury  he  does 
 truth  and  goodness ;  he  ought  to  be  for- 
 
6S8 
 
 PESACHING. 
 
 l);dden  to  preach  to  liis  fellow-creatures, 
 except  by  what  is  infinitely  more  persuasive 
 than  any  elocjuence  —  good  deeds  and  an 
 attractive  example.  It  is  melancholy  to 
 think  of  the  huvoc  which  a  dull  speaker 
 will  soon  make  in  a  crowded  audience. 
 The  preaching  of  some  good  parsons  is 
 like  reading  the  lliot  Act,  or  reminds  one 
 of  that  ingenious  method  by  which  it  is 
 said  the  magistrates  of  St.  Petersburg 
 sometimes  cool  the  zeal  of  a  mob  in  that 
 genial  climate  —  that  is,  by  pluying  on 
 them  with  a  tire-engine.  M.  Rogers. 
 
 PREACPIING— Eccentric. 
 
 Any  departure  from  the  ordinary  track 
 of  fashion,  custom,  &c.,  in  life,  is  sure  to 
 excite  attention,  and  call  forth  a  variety 
 of  remarks ;  as  a  man  walking  through  a 
 town  without  a  hat,  or  with  one  of  a  ditl'er- 
 ent  colour,  form,  and  size  to  the  ordinary 
 ones:  so  if  a  preacher  becomes  eccentric, 
 and  diverges  from  the  usual  run,  in  his 
 style,  manner,  matter,  <fec.,  he  is  sure  to 
 excite  attention,  and  for  a  time  either  to 
 be  a  prodigy  or  a  fool.  John  Bate. 
 
 PEEACHING— Hard-worded. 
 
 A  vv'oman  went  one  day  to  hear  a  famous 
 D.D.  preach,  and,  as  usual,  carried  a  pocket 
 Eible  with  her,  that  she  might  turn  to  any 
 of  tlie  passages  the  preacher  might  happen 
 to  refer  to.  But  she  found  that  she  had 
 no  use  for  her  Bible  there  ;  and,  coming 
 away,  said  to  a  friend,  "  I  should  have  left 
 my  Bible  at  home  to-day,  and  have  brought 
 my  dictionary.  The  doctor  does  not  deal 
 in  Scripture,  but  in  such  learned  words 
 and  phrases  as  require  the  help  of  an  in- 
 terpreter to  render  them  iiitelligible." 
 
 Anon. 
 PEEACHING— Heavy. 
 
 Ladt). — "  Mr.  —  is  really  a  wretched 
 preacher." 
 
 Husband. — "  My  dear,  Mr.  —  is  one  of 
 the  most  sound,  orthodox  preachers  I 
 know." 
 
 Lady. — "  He  may  be  very  orthodox,  but 
 he  is  very  heavy." 
 
 Husband.—"  Gold  is  heavy." 
 
 Lady. — "  Yes,  but  gold  is  bright." 
 
 Stamp. 
 PEEACHING— Holy  Spirit  in. 
 
 In  a  very  quaint  sermon  by  Matthew 
 Wilkes,  I  remember  he  said  that  ministers 
 were  like  peas — some  of  them  were  com- 
 mon goose-quills,  writing  very  heavily,  and 
 olten  requiring  nibbing ;  others  of  them, 
 he  said— the  college  men — were  like  steel- 
 pens,  and  wliile  they  could  make  good  fine 
 np-strokes,  they  could  not  make  such  heavy 
 down-strokes  as  some  of  the  quills  could  ; 
 but,  he  said,  neither  the  one  pen  nor  the 
 other  conld  do  anything  without  ink  ;  and, 
 therefore,  lie  said,  our  ministers  want  more 
 
 ink.  The  ink  is  the  Holy  Spirit — "  written  . 
 not  with  ink,  but  with  the  Spirit  of  the 
 living  God."  And  so,  Mr.  Wilkes  suggested 
 that  people,  instead  of  finding  fault  with 
 the  minister,  would  do  well  to  pray,  "  Lord, 
 give  him  more  ink — give  him  more  ink  !" 
 There  was  much  in  that  prayer,  for  we 
 need  often  to  be  dipped  in  that  ink,  or  else 
 we  cannot  make  a  mark  ou  your  hearts. 
 
 C.  H.  kifuryeon. 
 
 PEEACHING— Ideas  about. 
 
 Wliat  is  preaching  ?  is  a  question  to 
 which  there  would  probalily  be  as  many 
 replies  as  to  What  is  truth  ?  Almost  every 
 minister,  and  almost  every  man,  has  his 
 own  taste,  and  his  own  standard,  and  his 
 own  weight,  and  his  own  measure  on  this 
 subject.  One  man  thinks  that  to  preach 
 means  accurately  to  divide  a  given  topic, 
 logically  to  illustrate  it,  and  to  observe  a 
 perfect  but  cold  propriety  through  the 
 various  steps  and  stages  of  the  discourse. 
 This  is  the  mechanical  plan  of  preaching. 
 Another  imagines  preaching  to  be  the  ex- 
 position of  a  particular  passage  of  Scrip- 
 ture, bringing  out  from  it  all  that  is  in  it, 
 and  nothing  more.  This  is  the  textual  idea 
 of  preaching.  Another  cares  not  a  straw 
 for  a  sermon  if  it  do  not  contain  a  train  of 
 rigid  argumentation,  diversified  by  occa- 
 sional bursts  of  party  rage  and  strong 
 squirts  of  the  odium  theologicum.  This  is 
 the  polemical  idea  of  preaching.  Another 
 likes  no  preaching  but  what  contains  a 
 string  of  appeals,  and  queries,  and  adjura- 
 tions, unconnected  with  principles,  unsup- 
 ported by  reasonings,  and  loose  as  a  rope 
 of  sand.  This  is  called,  though  falsely, 
 practical  preaching.  Another  wants  a  ser- 
 mon to  be  a  series  of  electrical  shocks — 
 one  burst  from  beginning  to  end ;  the 
 clouds  returning  after  tlie  rain,  and  no 
 cotton  so  thick  and  no  conscience  so  hard 
 as  to  exclude  or  resist  the  perpetual  tu- 
 mult. This  is  the  clap-trap  idea  of  preach- 
 ing. Another  wants  flowers  ;  whether 
 natural  and  fresh  from  the  soil,  or  artificial 
 and  faded,  it  does  not  matter  ;  if  he  do  but 
 get  flowers,  and  hear  them  rustling  above 
 his  ears,  in  the  breeze  of  brilliant  decla- 
 mation, he  is  quite  satisfied,  whether  they 
 keep  him  languishingly  awake,  or  lull  him 
 into  dreamy  repose.  This  is  the  florid  and 
 Corinthian  idea  of  preaching.  Another  is 
 content  with  exclamations  ;  he  is  not 
 pleased  unless  every  other  sentence  begins 
 with  Oh  !  the  interjection  Ah  !  has  to  him 
 a  peculiarly  pathetic  sound  ;  it  seems  to 
 melt  into  his  midriff  like  snow ;  and  that 
 preacher  would  be  his  Magnus  Apollo 
 who  would  say,  "  Oh !  we  remark  in  the 
 next  place."  This  is  the  interjectional 
 idea  of  preaching.  Another  desiderates 
 chiefly  delivery.  No  nrnister  is  a  favorite 
 unless  his  voice  be  musical,  and  his  aLti- 
 
PREACHING. 
 
 689 
 
 tude  smack  of  the  boards ;  unless  he  in- 
 dulge in  a  profusion  of  studied  declama- 
 tion, pointing  to  the  four  winds  when  he 
 names  them,  and  laying  his  hand  gently 
 on  the  heart,  when  he  wishes  to  indicate 
 that  interesting  organ.  This  is  the  mate- 
 rial or  Anthropomorphic  idea  of  preaching. 
 Another  judges  of  a  sermon  by  its  length, 
 and  likes  it,  either  because  it  is  an  hour 
 or  because  it  is  only  the  half  of  the  time. 
 This  is  the  arithmetical  idea  of  preaching. 
 GrilfiUan. 
 PEEACHING— with  Judgment. 
 
 Such  persons  as  are  busied  in  preaching, 
 it  is  much  to  be  wished  that  they  would 
 do  it  with  judgment  too ;  and  not  preach 
 hell  and  damnation  to  sinners  so  as  if  they 
 were  pleased  with  what  they  preached ;  no, 
 let  them  rather  take  heed  that  they  mis- 
 take not  their  own  fierce  temper  for  the 
 mind  of  God;  for  some  I  have  known  to 
 do  so,  and  that  at  such  a  rate  that  it  was 
 easy  enough  to  distinguish  the  humour  of 
 the  speaker  from  the  nature  of  the  thing 
 he  spoke.  Let  ministers  threaten  death 
 and  destruction  even  to  the  very  worst  of 
 men,  in  such  a  manner  that  it  may  appear 
 to  all  their  sober  hearers  that  they  do  not 
 desire,  but  fear  that  these  dreadful  things 
 should  come  to  pass  ;  let  them  declare 
 GikI's  wrath  against  the  hardened  and  im- 
 penitent as  I  have  seen  a  judge  condemn 
 a  malefactor,  with  tears  in  his  eyes;  for 
 surely  much  more  should  a  disnenser  of 
 the  Word,  while  he  is  pronouncing  the  in- 
 finitely more  killing  sentence  of  the  Divine 
 law,  grieve  with  an  inward  bleeding  com- 
 pa-sion  for  the  misery  of  those  forlorn 
 wretches  whom  it  is  like  to  pass  upon. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 PRSACIIIITG— Kindness  and  Reasor.  in. 
 
 The  language  of  reason,  unaccompanied 
 by  kindness,  will  often  fail  of  making  an 
 impression ;  it  has  no  eflTect  upon  the  un- 
 derstanding, because  it  touches  not  the 
 heart.  The  language  of  kindness,  unasso- 
 ciated  with  reason,  will  frequently  be 
 unable  to  persuade ;  because,  though  it 
 may  gain  upon  the  afiections,  it  wants 
 tliat  which  is  necessary  to  convince  the 
 judgment.  But  let  reason  and  kindness 
 be  united  in  a  discourse,  and  seldom  will 
 even  pride  or  prejudice  find  it  easy  to 
 resist.  Gisborne. 
 
 PHEACKING— Kinds  of. 
 
 An  English  merchant,  visiting  Scotland 
 in  1650,  and  being  asked  on  his  return 
 v.hat  he  had  heard,  answered,  "  Rare 
 things  1  I  went  to  St.  Andrew's,  where  I 
 heard  a  majestic-looking  man  (Blair),  and 
 he  showed  me  the  majesty  of  God.  After 
 him  I  heard  a  little  fair  man  (Rutherford), 
 and  he  showed  me  the  loveliness  of  Christ. 
 
 I  then  went  to  Irvine,  where  I  heard  an 
 old  man  (Dickson),  and  that  man  showed 
 me  my  own  heart.  Anon. 
 
 PREACHING— Mode  of. 
 
 A  celebrated  divine,  who  was  remarkable, 
 in  the  first  period  of  his  ministry,  i'or  a 
 boisterous  mode  of  preaching,  suddenly 
 changed  his  whole  manner  in  the  puljiit, 
 and  adopted  a  mild  and  dispassionate  mode 
 of  address.  One  of  his  brethren  observing 
 it,  inquired  of  him  what  had  induced  him  to 
 make  the  change.  He  answered,  "  When 
 I  was  young,  I  thought  it  was  the  thunder 
 that  killed  the  people;  but  when  I  grew 
 wiser,  I  discovered  that  it  was  the  Ughlning. 
 So  I  determined,  in  future,  to  tbuniler  less 
 and  lighten  more."  Thornton. 
 
 PREACHING— Model. 
 
 Foxe  thus  describes  Bradford's  preach- 
 ing :  "  Sharply  he  opened  and  reproved 
 sin  ;  sweetly  he  preached  Christ  crucified  ; 
 pithily  he  impugned  heresy  and  error;  and 
 earnestly  he  persuaded  to  godly  life." 
 
 Foxe. 
 PREACHING— Order  in. 
 
 There  are  two  orders  of  discourse,  the 
 order  of  the  intellect  and  the  order  of  love. 
 The  order  of  the  intellect  is  to  have  an 
 exordium,  a  series  of  arguments  hearing  on 
 the  matter  in  hand,  a  series  of  illustrations, 
 and  what  is  called  a  peroration  or  close. 
 This  order  does  not  admit  of  divergences 
 or  digressions ;  any  interruptions  of  the 
 plan  are  to  the  mere  intellect  imperti- 
 nences, and  the  pruning-knife  of  a  merely 
 intellectual  critic  would  cut  them  un- 
 si)aringly  away.  The  order  of  love  is  to 
 have  a  heart  so  penetrated  with  the  sub- 
 ject as  to  be  impatient  of  the  restraints  of 
 intellectual  method,  and  to  burst  away  in 
 pursuit  of  favorite  topics,  as  the  mind 
 within  suggests.  This  is  the  only  order 
 observed  in  the  writings  of  St.  Augustine 
 and  St.  Paul,  and  in  the  discourses  of  Jesus 
 Christ.  Pascal. 
 
 PREACHING— Plain. 
 
 "  The  very  essence  of  truth,"  says  Mil- 
 ton, "  is  plainness  and  brightness  ;  the 
 darkness  and  crookedness  are  our  own." 
 "  Better  the  grammarian  should  repre- 
 hend," says  Jenkyn,  "  than  the  people  not 
 understand.  Pithy  plainness  is  the  beauty 
 of  preaching.  What  good  doth  a  golden 
 key  that  opens  not?"  An  old  lady  once 
 walked  a  great  way  to  hear  the  celebrated 
 Adam  Clarke  preach.  She  had  heard  he 
 was  "  such  a  scholar,"  as  indeed  he  was. 
 But  she  was  bitterly  disappointed,  "  be- 
 cause," she  said,  "  I  understood  everything 
 he  said."  And  I  knew  a  man  who  left  the 
 church  one  morning  quite  indignant,  be- 
 cause the  preacher  had  one  thing  in  his 
 
690 
 
 PEEACHING. 
 
 sermon  he  knew  before.  It  was  a  little 
 explanation  meant  for  the  children  ;  dear 
 little  things — they  are  always  coming  on, 
 and  I  love  to  see  their  bright  little  faces 
 among  the  older  people.  We  used  to  need 
 and  prize  these  simple  explanations,  and 
 why  shonldn't  they  have  them  in  their 
 turn  ?  And  this  blessed  thing  is  to  be 
 said  of  the  Gospel :  Let  it  be  made  ever  so 
 simple,  so  that  little  children  are  drinking 
 it  in  with  grateful  wonder,  it  still  has 
 depths  and  riches  to  satisfy  the  mind  and 
 heart  of  the  mightiest  philosopher,  if  only 
 he  has  that  highest  attainment  of  wisdom 
 — a  simple  child-like  faith.  Like  the  sun, 
 it  is  mirrored  at  the  same  moment  by  the 
 dewdrop  and  the  ocean.  Dr.  Moge. 
 
 Bernard,  preaching  one  day  very  scho- 
 lastically,  the  learned  thar-ked  him,  but 
 not  the  godly ;  but  when  another  day  he 
 preached  plainly,  tlie  good  people  came 
 blessing  God  for  him,  and  gave  him  many 
 thanks,  which  some  scholars  wondering  at, 
 "Ah."  said  he,  " Jleri  Bernardum,  bodie 
 Christum;  yesterday  I  preached  Bernard, 
 but  to-day  I  preached  Christ."  'Tis  not 
 learning,  but  teaching  ;  not  the  wisdom  of 
 words,  but  the  evidence  and  demonstration 
 of  the  Spirit,  that,  is  welcome  to  saints. 
 
 Venning. 
 PEEACHING-Popular. 
 
 There  are  preachers  so  sonorous  and 
 fluent  in  mere  wordiness,  that  the  hearers 
 are  quite  satisfied  to  hear  the  tluent  higli- 
 soundiug  wordiness,  though  there  be  within 
 it  great  barrenness  of  thought,  and  no 
 spiritual  refreshment.  The  shallow  people 
 who  have  been  accustomed  to  this  sound- 
 ing-brass and  tinkling-cymbal  preaching, 
 cannot  endure  the  ever  fresh  flow  of  living 
 thought.  For,  being  long  accustomed  to  a 
 sound-and-ear  ministry  under  the  former, 
 they  are  in  their  element,  but  under  the 
 latter  they  are  like  fish  out  of  water.  In 
 a  spiritual  element  a  carnal  people  cannot 
 breathe  with  freedom.  To  be  popular,  it 
 is  not  enough  that  a  man  be  a  good  talker, 
 he  must  also  be  a  shallow  thinker.  Abide 
 in  the  low  plain  of  thought,  aud  the  multi- 
 tudes will  throng  you ;  but  ascend  to  the 
 high  mountain  height  of  purer  thought, 
 and  your  multitudes  will  be  reduced  to  a 
 few  diaciples.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 Most  of  the  common  people  like  glitter 
 and  show  in  dress,  building,  pictures,  fur- 
 niture, &c. ;  so  they  do  in  preaching.  Fine, 
 dazzling,  glittering,  out-of-the-way  words 
 strung  together  in  a  rapid  utterance,  and 
 a  bombastical  manner,  is  sure  to  be  popular 
 with  a  great  proportion  of  the  masses  of 
 the  people.  John  Bate. 
 
 PREACHING— Powerful. 
 
 Jonah  was  but  one  man,  and  he  preached 
 
 but  one  sermon,  and  it  was  but  a  short 
 sermon  either,  as  touching  the  number  of 
 words,  and  yet  he  turned  the  whole  city, 
 great  and  small,  rich  and  poor,  king  and 
 all.  We  be  many  preachers  here  in  England, 
 and  we  preach  many  long  sermons,  and 
 yet  the  people  will  not  repent  or  convert. 
 This  was  the  fruit,  the  eff'ect,  and  the  good 
 that  the  sermon  did,  that  the  whole  city, 
 at  his  preaching,  converted  and  amended 
 their  evil  living,  and  did  penance  in  sack- 
 cloth. And  yet  here  in  this  sermon  of 
 Jonah  is  no  great  curiousness,  no  great 
 affectation  of  words,  nor  of  painted  elo- 
 quence ;  it  was  none  other  but  "  Yet  forty 
 days  and  Nineveh  shall  be  destroyed  \" 
 It  was  no  more.  It  was  no  great,  curious 
 sermon,  but  this  was  a  nipping  sermon,  a 
 pinching  sermon,  a  biting  sermon ;  it  had 
 a  full  bite ;  it  was  a  rough  sermon,  and  a 
 sharp,  biting  sermon.  Do  you  not  marvel 
 that  these  Ninevites  did  not  cast  Jonah 
 into  prison  ?  They  did  not  revile  or  re- 
 buke him ;  but  God  gave  them  grace  to 
 hear  him,  and  to  convert  and  amend  at  his 
 preaching.  A  strange  matter,  so  noble  a 
 city  to  give  place  to  one  man's  sermon. 
 
 Bp.  Latiiner. 
 
 PREACHING— Prayer  before. 
 
 When  Pericles  went  into  the  pulpit  to 
 make  orations  to  the  people,  he  would 
 make  his  prayer  to  the  gods,  that  nothing 
 might  go  out  of  his  mouth  but  what 
 might  be  to  the  purpose :  a  good  example 
 for  preachers,  Venning. 
 
 There  was  a  husbandman  that  always 
 sowed  good  seed,  but  never  had  good  corn. 
 At  last  a  neighbour  came  to  him,  and  said, 
 "  I  will  tell  you  what  probably  may  be 
 the  caiise  of  it.  It  may  be  you  do  not 
 steep  your  seed  ?"  "  No,  truly,"  replied 
 the  other,  "  nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  seed 
 must  be  steeped."  "Yes,  surely,"  said 
 his  neighbour;  "and  I  will  tell  you  how: 
 it  must  be  steeped  in  prayer."  When  the 
 party  heard  this  he  thanked  him  for  his 
 counsel,  reformed  his  fault,  and  had  as 
 good  corn  as  other  persons.  Flavel. 
 
 PREACHING— Preparation  for. 
 
 I  study  and  prepare  for  the  pulpit  as  if 
 there  were  no  Holy  Ghost  to  help  me 
 there,  and  when  I  enter  upon  my  public 
 work,  I  cast  my  preparation  at  the  feet  of 
 Jesus  Christ,  depending  upon  Divine  in- 
 fluence as  much  as  if  I  had  not  premedi- 
 tated. Longden. 
 
 PREACHING— Pretty. 
 
 I  am  tormented  with  the  desire  of 
 writing  better  than  I  can.  I  am  tormented, 
 say  I,  with  the  desire  of  preaching  better 
 than  I  can.     But  I  have  no  wish  to  make 
 
PHEACHING— PRECISION. 
 
 691 
 
 fiiie,  pretty  sermons.  Prettiiiess  is  well 
 enough  when  pret  tiness  is  in  place.  I  like 
 to  see  a  pretty  child,  a  pretty  flower;  but 
 in  sermons  prettiness  is  out  of  place.  To 
 my  ear,  it  should  be  anything  but  com- 
 mendation, should  it  be  said  to  me,  "You 
 have  given  us  a  pretty  sermon."  If  I  were 
 put  upon  trial  for  my  life,  and  my  advocate 
 should  amuse  the  jury  with  tropes  and 
 figures,  or  bury  his  arguments  beneath  a 
 profusion  of  flowers  of  his  rhetoric,  I 
 would  say  to  him,  "  Tut,  man,  yon  care 
 more  for  your  vanity  than  for  my  hanging. 
 Put  yourself  in  my  place — speak  in  view 
 of  the  gallows,  and  you  will  tell  your  story 
 plainly  and  earnestly."  I  have  no  objec- 
 tions to  a  lady  winding  a  sword  with 
 ribbons,  and  studding  it  with  roses  as  she 
 presents  it  to  her  hero-lover;  but  in  the 
 day  of  battle  he  will  tear  away  the  orna- 
 ments, and  use  the  naked  edge  on  the 
 enemy.  S.  Hall. 
 
 PEEACHIlirG— Simplicity  in. 
 
 Simplicity  of  style,  then,  as  opposed  to 
 the  artificial  and  rhetorical,  is  essential  to 
 earnestness ;  for  who  can  believe  that  man 
 to  be  intent  on  saving  souls,  who  seems  to 
 have  laboured  in  the  study  only  to  make 
 his  sermon  as  fine  as  glittering  imagery  and 
 high-sounding  diction  could  render  it.  I 
 could  as  soon  believe  a  physician  were  in- 
 tent on  saving  his  fellow-creatures  from 
 death,  who,  when  the  plague  was  sweeping 
 them  into  the  grave,  spent  his  time  in 
 studying  to  write  his  prescriptions  in 
 beautiful  characters  and  classical  latinity. 
 
 J.  A.  James. 
 PREACHIITG— Universalist. 
 
 A  Universalist  preacher  was  travelling, 
 and  had  sent  on  an  intimation  that  he  in- 
 tended to  i)reach  in  a  certain  place.  On 
 his  arrival  he  found  a  congregation,  to 
 whom  he  proclaimed  the  doctrine  of  uni- 
 versal deliverance  from  punishment  in  the 
 •world  to  come.  After  the  sermon  he  in- 
 formed his  hearers  that  he  should  be  that 
 way  on  his  return,  at  such  time;  and  if 
 they  desired  it,  he  would  then  preach 
 again.  No  one  replied  till  he  had  twice 
 repeated  his  statement.  At  last,  an  old 
 friend,  in  the  back  part  of  the  congrega- 
 tion, rose  and  said,  "  If  thou  hast  told  the 
 truth  this  time,  we  do  not  need  thee  any 
 more ;  and  if  thou  hast  told  us  a  lie,  we  do 
 not  want  thee  any  more  ;"  an  answer  which, 
 although  somewhat  grotesc^ue,  was  very 
 much  to  the  purpose.  Thornton. 
 
 PEEACHING— Useful. 
 
 Mind,  no  sermon  is  of  any  value,  or 
 likely  to  be  useful  which  has  not  the  three 
 Il's  in  it— Paiin  by  the  Fall ;  Redemption 
 by  Christ;  Regeneration  by  the  Holy 
 Spirit.     My  aim  in  every  sermon  is  a  lusty 
 
 call  to  sinners,  to  quicken  the  saints,  and 
 to  be  made  a  universal  blessing  to  all. 
 
 Dr.  Ryland. 
 PREACHING— Verhose. 
 
 At  a  communion  in  the  west  of  Scotland, 
 as  a  verbose  preacher  was  addressing  the 
 congregation,  one  by  one  his  ministerial 
 brethren  dropped  out  of  the  chapel  into 
 the  vestry.  As  the  last  one  who  left  put 
 his  head  into  the  vestry,  those  who  pre- 
 ceded him  inquired  if  the  prolix  speaker 
 had  not  yet  finished  his  address.  "  Weel," 
 said  he,  "his  tow's  dune  lang  syne,  but 
 he's  spinnin'  awa'  yet."  Anon. 
 
 PREFERMENT. 
 
 'Tis  the  curse  of  service ; 
 Preferment  goes  by  letter  and  affection, 
 Not  by  the  old  gradation,  when  each  second 
 Stood  heir  to  the  first.  Shakespeare. 
 
 All  preferment, 
 That  springs   from   sin   and  lust,   shoots 
 
 quickly  up, 
 As  gard'ners'  crops  do   in   the  rottenest 
 
 grounds.  Middleton. 
 
 For  places  in  the  court  are  but  like  beds 
 In  the  hospital,  where  this  man's  head  lies 
 At  that  man's  foot,  and  so  lower  and  lower 
 Webster. 
 PRECEPT— Definition  of. 
 
 Precept  is  a  rule  given  by  a  superior;  a 
 direction  or  command.  C.  Buch. 
 
 PRECISION— Importance  of. 
 
 What  makes  the  scholar?  exactness. 
 What  is  most  likely  to  secure  success  in 
 the  learned  professions  ?  exactness.  What 
 i-aises  men  of  various  callings  to  the  high- 
 est position  attainable  by  persons  in  their 
 occupations?  exactness.  What  makes  a 
 man's  word  pass  current  as  gold  ?  his 
 known  exactness.  What,  above  all  things, 
 is  essential  in  the  laboratory  ?  exactness. 
 Precision !  Exactness !  With  what  pre- 
 cision the  Great  Worker  has  made  all 
 things.  Telescope  and  microscope,  and  all 
 instruments  of  vision  and  inspection  and 
 analysis,  unite  to  reveal  the  exactness  of 
 the  works  of  the  Father  of  all.  In  the 
 wide  universe,  systems  are  so  delicately 
 balanced  and  nicely  adjusted  that  the 
 slightest  derangement  in  any  portion 
 would  adect  the  whole.  The  steady  revo- 
 lutions of  the  planets  in  our  solar  system 
 are  due  to  the  exact  proportions  between 
 their  weight  and  velocities  and  distances 
 from  the  sun,  and  they  would  all  lose  their 
 way  in  space  if  one  were  diminished,  or  ir 
 one  were  increased.  Reverse  the  propor- 
 tion of  the  gases  which  constitute  the  at- 
 mosphere, and  the  fluid  which  in  its  natural 
 state  is  the  elixir  of  life  becomes  the 
 subtle  agent  of  death.     Inject  to  the  cir- 
 
692 
 
 PErjTIDICE. 
 
 culating  system  of  the  hnmnn  body  the 
 minutest  drop  of  certain  foreign  sub- 
 stances, say  the  poison  of  a  serpent,  and 
 though  entering  the  smallest  vessel  at  the 
 greatest  distance  from  the  heart,  it  will 
 vitiate  all  the  blood  and  stop  the  pnlse  of 
 life.  A  grain  of  sand  between  the  cornea 
 of  the  eye  and  the  eyelid,  throws  out  of 
 gear  the  wliole  of  that  wondrous  me- 
 chanism. Precision !  there  is  wonderful 
 exactness  in  every  organization — inimi- 
 table exactness  pervades  the  universe,  and 
 like  a  thread  of  gold  holds  the  innumer- 
 able parts  together.  Nor  is  it  absent  ft-om 
 our  spiritual  constitution.  All  our  emo- 
 tional susceptibilities  taken  in  connection 
 ■with  their  exciting  causes  show  exactness. 
 The  varieties  of  love  show  exactness.  How 
 exact  a  spiritual  mechanism  is  conscience ! 
 Exactness  is  the  perfection  of  morality,  for 
 without  it  there  cannot  be  truth  and 
 righteousness.  The  beauty  and  harmony 
 of  godliness  are  exactness.  We  may  not 
 strain  at  a  gnat  and  swallow  a  camel, 
 because  we  are  constituted  not  to  swallow 
 a  camel,  but  to  strain  at  a  gnat.  He  is  a 
 hypocrite  who,  having  swallowed  a  camel, 
 strains  at  a  gnat,  but  he  is  a  well-formed 
 man  who  cannot  swallow  a  camel,  and  who 
 does  strain  at  a  gnat.  Was  not  one  of  the 
 popes  choked  by  a  fly  ?  "  He  that  sinneth 
 shall  fall  by  little  and  little."  "  Offending 
 in  one  point,  though  we  keep  otherwise 
 the  whole  law,  makes  us  guilty  of  all." 
 It  is  no  sin  to  tithe  mint,  and  anise,  and 
 cummin,  if  we  neglect  not  the  weightier 
 matters  of  the  law.  A  cipher  on  the  right 
 side  of  a  numeral  is  a  small  mark,  but  in- 
 creases the  value  of  that  figure  tenfold. 
 A  royal  decree  is  but  a  few  signs  upon  an 
 almost  worthless  piece  of  material,  but  it 
 may  affect  the  well-being  of  millions.  So 
 that  if  it  be  a  small  thing  for  political 
 rulers  to  govern  the  Church  of  Christ,  and 
 for  parliaments  to  control  the  worship  of 
 Christians,  and  for  an  unfeigned  assent 
 and  consent  to  be  professed  by  men  like 
 ourselves  who  cannot  consent  with  all  the 
 heart,  we  dare  not  be  unfaithful  in  that 
 which  is  least.  The  least  uufaithfuluess 
 may  bring  a  curse  upon  us ;  as  the  foot  of 
 the  chamois  on  the  snowy  mountains,  or 
 the  breath  of  a  traveller  who  sings  or 
 shouts  on  his  snowy  road,  may  cause  an 
 avalanche  which  shall  entomb  the  village 
 now  full  of  life  and  gaiety  at  the  moun- 
 tain's base. 
 
 "  It  is  the  little  rift  within  the  lute. 
 That  by  and  by  will  make   the   music 
 
 mute. 
 And,  ever  widening,  slowly  silence  all. 
 The  little  rift  within  the  lover's  lute, 
 Or  littHe  pitted  speck  in  garnered  fruit. 
 That   rotting   inwards   slowly   moulders 
 all."  6'.  Martin. 
 
 PUEJUDICE—Elind. 
 
 The  prejudiced  man  is  like  a  man  walk- 
 ing on  a  narrow  path  with  his  eyes  down- 
 ward, and  will  not  raise  them  to  behold 
 even  the  grandest  sceneries  which  appear 
 on  either  hand.  Or,  like  a  man  shut  up 
 in  his  house,  with  the  doors  locked,  the 
 windows  closed,  the  shutters  fastened,  and 
 the  blind  down;  without  a  candle  or  a 
 lamp  to  light  his  dismal  condition,  dark, 
 and  in  the  dark,  without  much  hope  of 
 seeing  things  differently;  yet  he  is  in- 
 dulging in  a  kind  of  satisfaction  that  he  is 
 right,  and  all  who  differ  from  him  neces- 
 sarily wrong.  He  is  afraid  of  opening  his 
 eyes,  for  iear  that  he  will  see  something  to 
 disconcert  and  rob  him  of  his  present  con- 
 dition of  complacent  satisfaction.  Blind- 
 ness is  the  safety  and  happiness  of  preju- 
 dice, as  well  as  its  sure  universal  result. 
 
 T.  mic/hes. 
 PREJUDICE— Curing. 
 
 Would  you  kill  or  cure  an  evil  preju- 
 dice? Manage  it  as  you  would  a  pulling 
 horse;  tickle  it  as  you  would  a  trout; 
 treat  it  as  you  would  the  most  headstrong 
 thing  in  the  world,  and  the  readiest  to 
 take  alarm,  the  likeliest  to  slip  through 
 your  fingers  at  the  moment  you  think  you 
 have  got  it  safe,  and  are  just  about  to 
 make  an  end  of  it.  Mare. 
 
 PREJUDICE— Examples  of. 
 
 The  Mahommedan  cleaves,  from  century 
 to  century,  to  his  prophet  and  alcoran,  and 
 no  reason  or  force  can  induce  him  to  re- 
 nounce either,  and  seek  a  better  Saviour 
 and  Prophet,  by  reading  and  following  the 
 direction  of  a  wiser,  richer,  older,  and 
 Diviner  book.  His  hatred  to  one  is  com- 
 plete, and  his  love  for  the  other  is  supreme. 
 He  has  made  up  his  mind,  and  ages,  with 
 their  associations,  have  added  their  blend- 
 ing and  incrustating  power  to  his  infatu- 
 ated faith  and  blind  adherence. 
 
 The  atheistic  sceptic,  though  professing 
 candour,  and  that  his  logic  has  led  him  to 
 his  present  unenviable  position ;  yet,  if 
 you  recommend  a  reading  of  the  sacred 
 volume,  attention  to  the  duties  of  Christian 
 truth,  and  impartial  examination  of  the 
 whole  departments  of  evidence,  and  a 
 modest  doubt  of  the  premises,  processes, 
 and  conclusions  of  his  logic,  his  prejudice 
 is  a  barrier  which  he  cannot  break,  and  a 
 gate  over  which  he  cannot  leap.  He  is 
 kept  by  its  power  in  the  dungeon  and  slime 
 of  infidelity. 
 
 Such  is  the  power  of  prejudice  in  the 
 different  sects  among  men,  that  they  re- 
 fuse to  acknowledge  each  other  in  the 
 street ;  they  cannot  preach  the  same  gospel 
 in  t!ie  same  place ;  they  refuse  t,r,  read  the 
 works  written  by  one  another;  they  will 
 not  meet  on  the  same  platform.;  and  even 
 
PSEJUDICE. 
 
 refuse  admittance  to  Christians  to  tlie 
 Lord's  table,  because  they  cannot  bring 
 their  minds  to  believe  as  they  do;  and 
 even  members  of  tlie  same  body  will  not 
 hold  communion  with  one  another;  like 
 the  Eg:yptians  who  would  not  eat  bread 
 with  the  Hebrews,  for  that  was  abomi- 
 nation in  their  sight.  In  fact  and  in  prac- 
 tice they  call  one  another  heretics  con- 
 tinually. T.  Sughes. 
 
 PEEJUBICE— Extremes  of. 
 
 Prejudi(!e  is  fond  of  extremes.  It  is 
 either  a  good  lover  or  a  good  hater.  It 
 cannot  walk  far  in  the  middle  path,  and 
 take  what  is  good  and  delightful  from 
 either  side;  generally,  its  residence  is 
 found  on  one  of  the  extreme  sides.  In  re- 
 ligion, it  is  frequently  found  in  extreme 
 and  withering  unbelief,  or  in  extreme  super- 
 stition and  fanaticism.  It  is  either  be- 
 lieving nothing  that  is  good,  or  believing 
 everything  that  is  weak  and  silly.  In 
 politics,  it  is  either  absolute  stand-still,  or 
 v/ild  revolution,  tyranny,  or  lawlessness. 
 So  with  the  arts  of  life  and  the  various 
 branches  of  knowledge;  they  are  either 
 despised  altogether,  or  carried  to  an  un- 
 warrantable extreme.  Ilul. 
 
 PEEJUDICE— Nature  of. 
 
 Prejudice  is  decision  neither  founded 
 upon  nor  consistent  with  reason,  and  the 
 error  of  ignorance,  weakness,  or  idleness. 
 It  is  the  enemy  of  all  truth,  knowledge, 
 and  improvement ;  and  is  the  blindness  of 
 the  mind,  rendering  its  power  useless  and 
 mischievous.  Innumerable  are  the  preju- 
 dices we  imbibe  in  our  youth ;  we  are  ac- 
 customed to  believe  without  reflection, 
 and  to  receive  opinions  from  others  with- 
 out examining  tlie  grounds  by  which  they 
 can  be  supported.  Maunder. 
 
 PKEJUDICE— Neutralizing. 
 
 Prejudice  has  always  a  neutralizing 
 power.  In  whatever  mind  it  dwells  it 
 acts  in  relation  to  truth,  as  alkali  in  re- 
 lation to  acids,  neutralizing  its  very  power. 
 Arguments  the  most  cogent,  discourses  the 
 most  powerful,  can  be  neutralized  at  once 
 by  some  prejudice  in  the  mind. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 PEEJUDICE— Power  of. 
 
 What  will  not  prejudice  do?  It  was 
 that  which  made  the  Jews  call  Christ  a 
 Samaritan,  a  devil,  a  wine-biblier,  a  friend 
 of  publicans  and  sinners.  It  was  that 
 which  n>ade  them  hale  the  apostles  to  their 
 governors,  and  cry  out,  "  Away  with  them, 
 it  is  not  fit  that  they  should  live."  It  was 
 this  made  Ahab  hate  the  upright  Micaiah, 
 and  the  Athenian  condemn  the  just  Aris- 
 tides,  though  he  had  never  seen  him.  It 
 was  this   made  the  poor  man,  who  knew 
 
 not  what  John  Huss's  doctrine  was,  so 
 busy  and  industrious  to  carry  wood  for  his 
 funeral  pile,  and  as  zealous  to  kindle  it 
 inasmuch  that  the  martyr  could  not  but 
 cry  out,  "  O  holy  simplicity  !"  It  is  this 
 sets  men  against  consideration  of  their 
 ways,  and  makes  them  give  out  that  it 
 will  crack  their  brains  and  disorder  their 
 understanding.  Anthony  Horneck. 
 
 A  gentleman  was  one  day  stoutly  assert- 
 ing that  there  were  no  gold  fields,  except 
 in  Mexico  and  Peru.  A  nugget,  dug  up 
 in  California,  was  presented  to  him  as  evi- 
 dence against  his  positive  assertion.  He 
 was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted.  "  This 
 metal,  sir,  is,  I  own,  extremely  like  gold; 
 and  you  tell  me  that  it  passes  as  such  in 
 the  market,  having  been  declared  by  the 
 assayers  to  be  indistinguishable  from  the 
 precious  metal.  All  this  I  will  not  dis- 
 pute. Nevertheless,  the  metal  is  not  gold, 
 but  aurumlnium ;  it  cannot  be  gold,  he- 
 cause  gold  comes  only  from  Mexico  and 
 Peru."  In  vain  was  he  informed  that  the 
 geological  formation  was  similar  in  Cali- 
 fornia and  Peru,  and  the  metals  similar; 
 he  had  fixed  in  his  mind  the  conclusion 
 that  gold  existed  only  in  Mexico  and  Peru ; 
 this  was  a  law  of  nature — be  had  no  rea- 
 sons to  give  why  it  should  be  so;  but  such 
 had  been  the  admitted  fact  for  many  years, 
 and  from  it  he  could  not  swerve.       Lewes. 
 
 PEEJUDICE— Unconscious. 
 
 Persons  often,  from  some  cause  or  other, 
 are  under  the  influence  of  prejudice  with- 
 out even  knowing  it.  "  Men,"  said  a  late 
 writer,  "  in  general,  and  particularly  pro- 
 fessional men,  view  objects  through  the 
 media  of  their  own  pursuits,  and  express 
 themselves  accordingly.  A  gentleman  was 
 thrown  from  a  very  restive  horse  in  Hyde 
 Park,  and  had  the  misfortune  to  break  one 
 of  his  legs.  A  crowd  instantly  collected 
 around  him,  in  which  were  a  riding-master, 
 a  painter,  a  mathematician,  a  lawyer,  and 
 a  clergyman.  '  If  this  unfortunate  man,* 
 said  the  riding-master,  '  had  taken  a  few 
 lessons  in  my  school,  that  accident  would 
 not  have  happened.'  '  How  finely  the 
 figure  was  fore-shortened  in  falling  !'  said 
 the  painter.  '  He  made  a  parabolic  curve,' 
 said  the  mathematician.  '  It  is  a  hundred 
 to  one,'  said  the  lawyer,  'if  he  has  made 
 his  will.'  'Ilun  for  a  surgeon,'  said  the 
 clergyman,  '  and  let  us  assist  the  poor  man 
 in  getting  home.'  "  T.  Hughes. 
 
 PEEJUDICES— National. 
 
 National  prejudices  and  hatreds  seldom 
 extend  beyond  neighbouring  nations.  We 
 very  weakly  and  foolishly,  perhaps,  call 
 the  French  our  natural  enemies;  and  they, 
 perhaps,  as  weakly  and  foolishly  consider 
 us  in  the  same  manner.    Neither  they  uor 
 
694 
 
 PRESENT— PEIDE. 
 
 we  bear  any  sort  of  envy  to  the  prosperity 
 of  China  or  Japan.  It  very  rarely  hap- 
 pens, however,  tliat  our  goodwill  towards 
 such  distant  countries  can  be  exerted  with 
 much  effect.  Adam  Smith. 
 
 PEESENT— Enjoying  the. 
 
 In  order  to  enjoy  the  present,  it  is 
 necessary  to  be  intent  on  the  present.  To 
 be  doing  one  thing  and  thinking  of  ano- 
 ther is  a  very  unsatisfactory  mode  of  spend- 
 ing life.  Some  people  are  always  wishing 
 themselves  somewhere  but  where  they  are, 
 or  thinking  of  something  else  but  what 
 they  are  doing,  or  of  somebody  else  than 
 to  whom  they  are  speaking.  This  is  the 
 way  to  enjoy  nothing  well.  Anon. 
 
 PRESENTIMENT. 
 
 As  the  sun. 
 Ere  it  is  risen,  sometimes  paints  its  image 
 In  the  atmosphere,  so  often  do  the  spirits 
 Of  great  events  stride  on  before  the  events, 
 And  in  to  day  already  walks  to-morrow. 
 
 Schiller. 
 PRESENTIMENT— of  Evil. 
 
 There  are  times  when  foreshadowings  of 
 evil,  vaporous  and  undefined,  rise  up  over 
 the  soul,  like  the  night  mists  over  the 
 meadow  land,  obscuring  not  only  the  land 
 marks  of  earth,  but  dimming  even  the 
 star -guides  of  heaven.  A.  2J.  Edwards. 
 
 My  mind  misgives, 
 Some  consequence  yet  hanging  in  the  stars 
 Shall  bitterly  begin  this  fearful  date 
 With  this  night's  revels.  Shakespeare. 
 
 PRESUMPTION— refinition  of. 
 
 Presumption  as  it  relates  to  the  mind, 
 is  a  supposition  formed  before  examination. 
 As  it  relates  to  the  conduct  or  moral  action, 
 it  implies  arrogance  and  irreverence.  As 
 it  relates  to  religion  in  general,  it  is  a  bold 
 and  daring  confidence  in  the  goodness  of 
 God,  without  obedience  to  His  will. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
 PRESUMPTION— Encroachments  of 
 
 Every  presumption  is  properly  an  en- 
 croachment, and  all  encroachment  carries 
 in  it  still  a  farther  and  a  farther  invasion 
 upon  the  person  encroached  upon.  It 
 enters  into  the  soul  as  a  gangrene  does 
 into  the  body,  which  spreads  as  well  as 
 infects,  and  with  a  running  progress 
 carries  a  venom  and  a  contagion  over  all 
 the  members.  Presumption  never  stops  in 
 its  first  attempt.  If  Ca?sar  comes  once  to 
 pass  the  Rubicon,  he  will  be  sure  to  march 
 farther  on,  even  till  he  enters  the  very 
 bowels  of  Rome,  and  break  open  the 
 Capitol  itself.  He  that  wades  so  far  as  to 
 wet  and  foul  himself,  cares  not  how  much 
 he  trashes  farther.  Dr.  South. 
 
 PRESUMPTION— Growth  of. 
 
 This  is  the  nature  and  quality  of  pre- 
 sumption; much  like  what  our  Saviour 
 says  of  the  mustard  seed,  which  at  first  is 
 the  least  of  all  seeds,  but  being  grown  up 
 is  greater  than  all  herbs,  so  that  the  birds 
 of  the  air  lodge  in  the  branches  of  it.  In 
 like  manner  presumption  first  sows  itself 
 in  a  thought,  the  least  of  all  sins  for  the 
 matter  of  it ;  but  from  thence  shooting  up 
 into  a  custom  and  a  habitual  practice,  it 
 grows  mighty  and  wide,  opens  its  arms, 
 and  spreads  out  its  branches  for  every  un- 
 clean bird,  every  sinful  action  and  abomi- 
 nation to  come  and  lodge  and  rest  upon. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 PRESUMPTUOUS  SIN— Greatness  of. 
 
 This  fatal,  destructive  sin,  which  is  the 
 very  masterpiece  of  the  devil,  and  the  gate 
 of  hell.  ibid. 
 
 PRESUMPTUOUS  SINS— Kinds  of. 
 
 1.  To  sin  against  the  goodness  of  God, 
 manifesting  itself  to  a  man  in  great  pros- 
 perity. 
 
 2.  A  second  sort  of  presumptuous  sins 
 are  sins  committed  under  God's  judging 
 and  afflicting  hand. 
 
 3.  To  commit  a  sin  clearly  discovered 
 and  directly  pointed  at  by  the  Word  of 
 God,  either  written  or  preached. 
 
 4.  To  commit  a  sin  against  certain  pas- 
 sages of  Providence,  particularly  thwarting 
 and,  as  it  were,  lying  across  to  the  commis- 
 sion of  it. 
 
 5.  Sins  against  the  inward  checks  or 
 warnings  of  conscience,  about  the  evil  of 
 any  course  of  action. 
 
 6.  Sins  against  that  inward  taste,  relish, 
 and  complacency  that  men  have  found  in 
 their  attempts  to  walk  with  God,  and 
 comply  with  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel. 
 
 7.  The  returning  to  and  repeated  com- 
 mission of  the  same  sin.  Ibid. 
 
 PEIDE— in  Apparel. 
 
 There  is  scarce  any  one  thing  whereof 
 men  and  women  are  more  proud  (at  least 
 wherein  and  whereby  they  show  their  pride 
 more)  than  apparel ;  though,  indeed,  there's 
 no  one  thing  (sin  itself  excepted)  that  we 
 liave  more  cause  to  be  ashamed  of  than 
 our  apparel,  for  they  tell  us  that  we  are 
 sinners ;  Adam  and  his  wife  (in  their  inno- 
 cence) were  naked,  and  were  not  ashamed. 
 Our  ornaments  are  but  badges  of  our  sin 
 and  shame;  and  'tis  to  this  purpose  obser- 
 vable, tiiat  the  same  word  in  Hebrew  which 
 signifies  a  garment,  signifies  treachery  and 
 prevarication,  to  show  that  we  have  com- 
 mitted treason  against  God,  else  tliere  had 
 not  been  need  of  a  fig-leaf  apron  to  cover 
 our  nakedness.  Who  now  can  be  proud  of 
 being  a  sinner  ?  Who  can  find  in  his  heart 
 to  be  proud  of  that  which  tells  him  th.it 
 
PRIDE. 
 
 he  hath  lost  his  innocence?  Surely  he 
 that  hath  sinned  himself  into  shame, 
 should  be  ashamed  of  his  sin ;  and  though 
 it  be  a  shame  and  a  sin  to  go  naked,  jet 
 when  we  are  clothed  with  our  garments, 
 we  should  be  clothed  with  shame  as  with 
 a  garment.  Venning. 
 
 PRIDE— Checks  to. 
 
 Eemember  what  thou  wert  before  thy 
 birth :  Nothing.  What  thou  wert  for 
 many  years  after:  Weakness.  What  in  all 
 thy  life  :  A  great  sinner.  What  in  all  thy 
 excellences :  A  mere  debtor  to  Clod,  to 
 thy  parents,  to  the  earth,  to  all  the  crea- 
 tures. Upon  these  or  the  like  meditations, 
 if  we  dwell,  and  frequently  retire  to  them, 
 we  shall  see  nothing  more  reasonable  than 
 to  be  humble,  and  nothing  more  foolish 
 than  to  be  proud.  Jij).  Taj/lor. 
 
 PRIDE— Conceits  of. 
 
 When  a  proud  man  thinks  best  of  him- 
 self, then  God  and  man  think  worst  of 
 him ;  all  his  glory  is  but  like  a  vapour, 
 M'hich  climlieth  as  though  it  would  go  up 
 to  heaven,  but  when  it  comes  to  a  little 
 height,  it  falls  down  again,  and  never 
 ascends  more.  So  Adam  thought  that  the 
 fair  apple  should  make  him  like  his  Maker, 
 hut  God  resisted  his  pride,  and  that  apple 
 made  him  like  the  serpent  that  tempted  him 
 with  it.  Absalom  thought  that  rebellion 
 would  make  him  a  king,  but  God  resisted 
 his  pride,  and  his  rebellion  hanged  him  on 
 a  tree.  Menry  Smith. 
 
 PRIDE— Consequences  of. 
 
 It  thrust  proud  Nebuchadnezzar  out  of 
 men's  society,  proud  Saul  out  of  his  king- 
 dom, proud  Adam  out  of  paradise,  proud 
 Hainan  out  of  the  court,  proud  Lucifer 
 out  of  heaven.  T.  Adams. 
 
 PRIDE— Depth  of. 
 Deep  is  the  sea,  and  deep  is  hell,  but  Pride 
 
 niineth  deeper; 
 It  is  coiled  as  a  poisonous  worm  about  the 
 
 foundations  of  the  soul, 
 If  thou  expose  it  in  thy  motives,  and  track 
 
 it  in  thy  springs  of  thought. 
 Complacent   in  its  own  detection,   it   will 
 
 seem  indignant  virtue; 
 Smoothly  it    will    gratulate    thy   skill,   O 
 
 subtle  anatomist  of  self, 
 And  spurn  at  its  very  being,  while  it  nest- 
 
 leth  the  deeper  in  thy  bosom. 
 
 Tupper. 
 PRIDE— Developments  of. 
 
 The  developments  nf  pride  are  numerous 
 and  often  unsuspected  as  to  their  real 
 character.  The  love  of  dress  and  display ; 
 the  undue  deference  to  the  opinions  of 
 others,  which  leads  us  to  adopt  forms  of 
 speech  and  modes  of  action  foreign  to  our 
 usages ;  the  man-fearing  spirit  which  im- 
 podBa  silence  In  ref;.rence  to  our  religion  in 
 
 social  circles,  and  particularly  the  senti- 
 ment which  ignores  all  physical  mani- 
 festations in  connection  with  religious 
 experience — these  are  all  the  offshoots  of 
 the  one  great  principle — pride  of  heart. 
 
 S.  R.  Piatt. 
 PRIDE— DownfaU  of. 
 
 A  kite  having  risen,  to  a  very  great 
 heiffht,  moved  in  the  air  as  stately  as  a 
 prince,  and  looked  down  with  much  con- 
 tempt on  all  below.  "What  a  superior 
 being  I  am  now  !"  said  the  kite ;  "  who 
 has  ever  ascended  so  high  as  I  have  ? 
 What  a  poor  grovelling  set  of  beings  are 
 all  those  beneath  me !  I  despise  them." 
 And  then  he  shook  his  head  in  derision, 
 and  then  he  wagged  his  tail;  and  again 
 he  steered  along  with  so  much  state  as  if 
 the  air  were  all  his  own,  and  as  if  every- 
 thing must  make  way  before  him ;  when 
 suddenly  the  string  broke,  and  down  fell 
 the  kite  with  greater  haste  than  he  as- 
 cended, and  was  greatly  hurt  in  the  fall. 
 
 Pride  often  meets  with  a  downfall.  Let 
 us  beware  how  we  look  with  contempt  on 
 those  below  us,  lest,  while  we  are  carrying 
 ourselves  loftily,  our  circumstances  may  be 
 changed,  and  we  be  placed  as  low  in  the 
 world  as  we  well  can  be.  We  that  have 
 rich  friends  to-day  may  have  poor  ones  to- 
 morrow J  for  such  changes  happen  to  many. 
 Cob  bin. 
 PRIDE— Expressions  of. 
 
 As  the  most  contagious  diseases  do  use 
 to  break  out  in  several  parts  of  man,  so 
 pride  will  not  be  stinted  to  any  particular 
 place;  but  now  it  expresses  itself  in  our 
 eyes,  now  it  takes  possession  of  our 
 tongues;  it  appropiiates  tiiis  man's  hands 
 unto  its  use,  in  another's  garments  it  useth 
 to  cloak  itself,  and  sits  with  so  umch  settled 
 gravity  in  another's  carriage,  as  a  hundred 
 preachers  could  not  remove  it  thence ; 
 some  again  there  are  who  afFict  such  a 
 kind  of  careless  behaviour  as,  if  you  did 
 not  know  the  secret  arts  they  have  to 
 profess  their  pride  and  sumptuosities  in 
 banquets,  edifices,  their  children's  breeding, 
 the  splendour  of  their  retinae,  and  their 
 furniture,  you  would  imagine  them  swoiii 
 enemies  of  so  much  vanity.  Drexelius. 
 
 PRIDE— Fettered. 
 
 Prayer  is  the  net  that  snareth  him;  prayer 
 
 is  the  fetter  that  holdeth  him  : 
 Thou  canst  not  nourish  pride  while  waiting 
 
 as  an  almsman  on  thy  God, — 
 Waiting  in   sincerity  and   trust,  or  pride 
 
 shall  meet  thee  even  there  : 
 Yea,    from    the    palaces   of    Heaven  hath 
 
 pride  cast  down  his  millions. 
 Root  up   the    mandrake   from    thy  heart, 
 
 though  it  cost  thee  blood  and  groans, 
 Or  the  cherished  gardt:n  of  thy  graces  will 
 
 fade  and  perish  utterly.  Tapper. 
 
PEIDE. 
 
 PKIDE— God's  Punishment  of. 
 
 God  was  wroth  with  the  angels,  and 
 drove  them  out  of  lieaven.  God  was  wroth 
 with  Adam,  and  thrust  him  out  of  paradise. 
 God  was  wroth  with  Nebuchadnezzar,  and 
 turned  liim  out  of  his  palace.  God  was  wroth 
 with  Cain,  and  though  he  were  the  first 
 man  born  of  a  woman,  yet  God  made  hira 
 a  vagabond  upon  his  own  land.  God  was 
 wroth  with  Saul,  and  though  he  was  the 
 first  king  that  ever  was  anointed,  yet  God 
 made  his  own  hand  his  executioner. 
 
 Senry  Smith. 
 PPJDE— God's  Resistance  of. 
 
 Ninirod  thought  that  Babel  should  get 
 Lim  a  name  (Gen.  xi),  but  God  resisted  his 
 pride,  and  the  name  of  his  building  was 
 called  Confusicin  ever  since.  Kebuchad- 
 nezzar  built  his  palace  for  his  honour  (_Dan. 
 iv),  but  God  resisted  his  pride,  and  his 
 palace  spewed  him  out,  when  his  servants 
 remnined  in  it.  Shebna  builded  a  se- 
 pulchre for  his  memorial  (Isa.  xxii),  but 
 God  resisted  his  pride,  and  buried  him  in 
 another  country  where  he  had  no  sepul- 
 chre provided.  Herod  hojied  when  the 
 people  cried  at  his  words,  "  It  is  the  voice 
 of  God,"  that  he  should  be  worshipped 
 ever  after  as  God;  but  God  resisted  his 
 pride,  and  before  he  descended  fiora  his 
 throne,  the  worms  so  defaced  his  pomp, 
 that  none  which  called  him  God  would  be 
 like  unto  him  :  so  when  women  take  more 
 pains  to  dress  themselves  than  they  do  all 
 the  year  after,  and  pay  dear  to  maintain 
 one  vice  than  they  need  to  learn  all 
 virtues,  they  think  to  please  men  by  it; 
 but  God  resistetli  their  pride  ;  and  all  that 
 see  them,  though  they  cap  and  bow  to 
 them,  yet  they  judge  worse  of  them,  and 
 think  that  they  would  not  wear  these  signs 
 of  lightness  and  pride,  unless  they  were 
 light  and  proud  indeed.  Thus  if  their 
 apparel  condemn  them  before  men,  how 
 will  it  condemn  them  before  God  ?  If 
 sin  did  not  blind  them,  would  they  so 
 deceive  themselves  to  take  the  contrary 
 ■way  and  think  that  should  honour  them 
 which  disgraceth  others  ?  But  as  Balaam 
 ■was  stopped  and  knew  not  who  slopped 
 him  ;  so  they  are  resisted,  and  know  not 
 who  resisteth  them.  Though  they  do  all 
 to  please,  yet  they  can  please  none :  they 
 please  not  God,  for  God  resisteth  them  ; 
 they  please  not  the  humble,  for  the  humble 
 are  contrary  to  them ;  they  please  not  the 
 proud,  for  the  proud  do  envy  them  which 
 strive  to  be  as  proud  as  they ;  they  please 
 not  themselves,  because  that  they  cannot 
 be  so  proud  and  brave  as  they  would  be ; 
 ■  only  they  content  and  please  the  devil, 
 lieciiuse  their  pride  doth  entitle  Lim  to 
 them.  Ibid. 
 
 PEIDE— History  of. 
 
 Pride   had   her   beginning    among    the 
 
 angels  that  fell,  her  continuance  in  earth, 
 her  end  in  hell.  T.  Adams, 
 
 PRIDE— Humbled. 
 
 God,  in  fact,  deals  with  men  as  Jesus 
 dealt  on  Galilee  with  Peter.  Impetuous, 
 self-satisfied,  pufied  up  with  vanity,  to 
 parade  his  power  and  prove  his  superiority 
 to  the  other  disciples,  Peter  will  walk  the 
 sea.  His  Master  allows  him  to  try  it. 
 He  bids  him  come  ;  not  that  He  may  drown 
 Simon,  but  only  Simon's  pride.  Boldly  he 
 ventures  on  the  water.  The  liquid  element 
 feels  firm  beneath  his  feet.  He  begins  to 
 walk ;  but,  alarmed  at  his  new  position  as 
 he  rises  and  falls  with  the  swell  of  the 
 waves,  he  begins  to  fear,  and,  like  a  cause 
 which  is  lost  for  want  of  courage,  he  be- 
 gins to  sink  lower  and  lower,  till  he  sinks, 
 till  the  water  rises  chill  upon  his  heart, 
 and  kisses  his  drowning  lip.  He  feels  him- 
 self in  the  cold  embraces  of  death.  Terror 
 masters  shame,  and,  stretching  out  his 
 arms  to  Christ,  he  cries,  "  Lord,  save  me,  I 
 perish."  Painful,  but  profitable  lesson ! 
 His  danger  and  failure  have  taught  him 
 his  weakness.  Now  to  such  a  state,  and 
 confession,  all  who  are  to  be  saved  must 
 first  be  brought.  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 PRIDE— Spiritual. 
 
 Naturalists  find  it  much  less  easy  to 
 teach  a  mountain  flower  to  accommodate 
 itself  to  a  low  locality,  than  to  get  one 
 which  by  birth  belongs  to  the  valleys  to 
 live  and  thrive  at  a  lofty  elevation.  So 
 there  seems  nothing  more  difiicult  to  men 
 than  to  descend  gracefully.  How  few 
 who  have  been  accustomed  to  a  high  posi- 
 tion in  society  are  able  to  reconcile  them- 
 selves to  a  humble  one  !  ....  So  it 
 is  with  us  in  our  low  and  lost  estate. 
 Spiritually  poor,  we  are  spiritually  proud 
 — saying,  "  1  am  rich  and  increased  in 
 goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing,"  while  we 
 are  "  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor, 
 and  blind,  and  naked."  Even  when  we 
 are  in  some  degree  sensible  of  our  poverty, 
 and  know  we  caniiot  pay,  like  the  unjust 
 steward  we  are  ashamed  to  beg.  Indulging 
 a  pride  out  of  all  keeping  "with  filthy 
 rags,"  we  will  not  stoop  to  stand  at  God's 
 door,  poor  mendicants,  who  ask  for  mercy. 
 ILid. 
 PRIDE— Subdued. 
 
 When  a  man's  pride  is  subdued  it  is 
 like  the  sides  of  Mount  Etna.  It  was  ter- 
 rible  during  the  eruption,  but  when  that 
 is  over  and  the  lava  is  turned  into  soil, 
 there  are  vineyards  and  olive  trees  which 
 grow  up  to  the  top.  S.  fV.  Beecher. 
 
 PRIDE— Tenacity  of. 
 
 Pride  is  a  vice  which  cleaveth  so  fast 
 unto  the  hearts  of  men,  that  if  we  were  to 
 
PRIDE-  PEOCSASTINATION. 
 
 strip  ourselves  of  all  faults  one  by  one  we 
 should  undoubtedly  tiud  it  the  very  last 
 and  hardest  to  put  off.  Mooker. 
 
 PRIDE— a  Traitor. 
 
 Pride  is  a  double  traitor,  and  betrayeth 
 
 itself  to  entrap  thee, 
 Making  thee  vain  of  thy  self-knowledge ; 
 proud  of  thy  discoveries  of  pride. 
 
 Tujoper. 
 PRIDE  AND  VANITY. 
 
 Pride  signifies  such  an  exalted  idea  of 
 ourselves  as  leads  to  self-esteem,  and  to 
 contempt  of  others.  It  is  self-admiration 
 — self  doating.  It  differs  from  vanity 
 thus:  pride  causes  us  to  value  ourselves; 
 vanity  makes  us  anxious  for  applause. 
 Pride  renders  a  man  odious;  vanity  makes 
 him  ridiculous.  J.  A.  James. 
 
 PRINCIPLE  AND  MAXIM. 
 
 Principle  is  one  thing,  and  maxim  is 
 another.  A  principle  requires  liberality,  a 
 maxim  says  one  tenth.  A  principle  s;iys, 
 "A  righteous  man  is  merciful  to  his  beast," 
 leaves  mercy  to  the  heart,  and  does  not  de- 
 fine how;  a  maxim  says.  Thou  shalt  not 
 muzzle  the  ox  that  treadeth  out  thy  corn. 
 A  principle  says,  Forgive;  a  maxim  defines 
 "  seven  times."  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 PRINCIPLES— Durability  of. 
 
 The  things  which  mcist  concerned  men 
 in  past  ages — food,  raiment,  wealth,  place, 
 personal  honour — are  all  forgotten  now ; 
 but  those  things  which  seemed  to  them 
 the  most  sliadowy  and  unsubstantial, — 
 their  faith,  their  ideals,  their  principles, — 
 these  are  now  the  only  abiding  remem- 
 brancers. Thus  men  are  kept  alive  on 
 earth  by  that  which  is  invisible,  and  suuk 
 to  the  bottom  by  that  which  is  material. 
 Time  is  made  up  of  waters  so  thin,  that 
 nothing  may  float  thereon  which  is  heavier 
 than  unseen  truths  and  heart  treasures. 
 As  at  sea  we  descry  ships  by  the  sails 
 which  lift  themselves  high  above  the  curve 
 of  the  ocean,  while  the  dark  and  heavy 
 hulls,  where  the  freights  are,  are  sunk 
 below  the  sight;  so  the  convoys  of  men 
 that  sailed  in  the  past  are  no  longer  seen 
 where  carried  the  much-prized  freight, 
 bub  in  the  lifting  up  of  their  spars  and 
 sails  against  the  heaven,  high  above  the 
 beud  and  curve  of  the  ocean  of  time. 
 
 S.  IF.  Beecher. 
 
 PRINCIPLES- Importance  of. 
 
 The  principles  that  are  now  implanted 
 in  thy  bosom  will  grow,  and  one  day  reach 
 maturity,  and  in  that  maturity  thou  wilt 
 find  thy  heaven  or  thy  hell.  Nothing  so 
 momentous  as  principles.  As  sure  as 
 August  shows  the  work  of  the  farmer,  so 
 sure  thy  futurity  will  show  the  principles 
 
 thou  art  cultivating  now.  "Buy,"  then, 
 "  the  truth  ;"  buy  it  at  any  cost ;  for  any 
 amount  of  labour,  sacrifice,  or  talent,  buy 
 it,  and  when  thou  hast  it,  sell  it  not  1  sell 
 it  not  for  pleasure,  for  prosperity,  for  fame 
 or  for  life.  Get  holy  principles,  and  thou 
 shalt  get  the  pinions  of  an  angel,  which 
 shall  bear  thee  above  all  the  clouds  and 
 storms  of  earth,  into  the  sunshine  and  the 
 calm  of  eternity.  Br.  Thomas. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION— Danger  of. 
 
 "Not  yet,"  said  a  little  boy,  as  he  wag 
 busy  with  his  trap  and  ball.  "  When  I 
 grow  older,  I  will  think  about  my  soul." 
 
 The  little  boy  grew  to  be  a  young  man. 
 
 "  Not  yet,"  said  the  young  man.  "I  am 
 now  about  to  enter  into  trade.  When  I 
 see  my  business  prosper  then  I  shall  have 
 more  time  than  now." 
 
 Business  did  prosper. 
 
 "Not  yet,"  said  the  man  of  business. 
 "  My  children  must  have  my  care.  When 
 they  are  settled  in  life,  I  shall  better  be 
 able  to  attend  to  religion." 
 
 He  lived  to  be  a  gray -headed  old  man. 
 
 "  Not  yet,"  still  he  cried.  "  I  shall  soon 
 retire  from  trade,  and  then  I  shall  have 
 nothing  else  to  do  but  read  and  pray." 
 
 And  so  he  died.  He  put  off  to  another 
 time  what  should  have  been  done  when  a 
 child.  He  lived  without  God,  and  died 
 without  hope.  Dr.  Raven. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION— Delusion  of. 
 
 Lord,  what   am    1,  that,  with   unceasing 
 
 c:n-e. 
 Thou  didst  seek  after  me, — that  Thou  didst 
 
 wait. 
 Wet  with  unhealthy  dews,  before  my  gate. 
 And   pass   the   gloomy   nights   of  winter 
 
 there  ? 
 0  strange  delusion  ! — that  I  did  not  greet 
 Thy  blest  approach,  and  O,  to  heaven  how 
 
 lost, 
 If  my  ingratitude's  unkindly  frost 
 Has  chilled  the  bleeding  wounds  upon  Thy 
 
 feet. 
 How  oft  my  guardian  angel  gently  cried, 
 "  Soul,  from  thy  casement  look,  and  thou 
 
 shalt  see 
 How  He  persists  to  knock  and  wait  for 
 
 thee !" 
 And  O  !  how  often  to  that  voice  of  sorrow, 
 "To-morrow  we  will  open,"  I  replied. 
 And  when  the  morrow  came  I  answered 
 
 still,  '•  To-morrow."  Longfellow. 
 
 PROCRASTINATION— Evils  of. 
 At  thirty  man  suspects  himself  a  fool ; 
 Knows  it  at  forty,  and  reforms  his  plan; 
 At  fifty  chides  his  infamous  delay. 
 Pushes  his  prudent  purpose  to  resolve; 
 In  all  the  magnanimity  of  thought. 
 Resolves  aud  re-resolves;    then  dies  the 
 same.  Young. 
 
PROCEASTINATION— PEOFANENESS. 
 
 PEOCEASTINATION— EvUs  of. 
 To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-mor- 
 row. 
 Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day. 
 To  the  hist  syllable  of  recorded  time  ; 
 And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
 The  way  to  dusty  death.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time  : 
 Year  after  year  it  steals,  till  all  are  fled. 
 And  to  the  mercies  of  a  moment  leaves 
 The  vast  concerns  of  an  eternal  scene. 
 
 Young. 
 PEOCEASTINATION— Folly  of. 
 
 A  farmer  who  should  delay  preparing 
 his  land  and  sowing  his  seed  until  July, 
 and  then  expect  a  fine  crop  of  grain  in 
 August,  would  net  as  consistent  as  the  man 
 who  puts  ort"  his  preparation  for  eternity 
 until  the  close  of  life,  and  after  deiith  looks 
 Tor  the  reward  of  heaven.  John  Bate. 
 
 The  hoary  fool,  who  many  days 
 
 Has  struggled  with  continued  sorrow, 
 
 Kenews  his  hope,  and  fondly  lays 
 The  desperate  bet  upon  to-morrow  ! 
 
 To-morrow  comes  !   'Tis  noon  !   'Tis  night ! 
 
 This  day,  like  all  the  former,  flies ; 
 Yet  on  he  goes,  to  seek  delight 
 
 To-morrow,  till  to-night  be  dies  ! 
 
 Prior. 
 PEODIGALITY— Course  of. 
 
 We  never  find  the  Scripture  commending 
 any  prodigal  but  one,  and  him,  too,  only 
 for  his  ceasing  to  be  so.  Whose  courses 
 if  we  reflect  upon,  we  shall  see  his  prodi- 
 gality bringing  him  from  his  revelling 
 companions  and  his  riotous  meats,  to  the 
 swine  and  to  the  trough ;  and  from  imi- 
 tating their  sensuality,  by  a  natural  con- 
 sequence to  take  up  with  their  diet  too. 
 
 Br.  South. 
 PEODIGALITY— Evils  of. 
 
 Prodigality  is  the  devil's  steward  and 
 purse-bearer,  ministering  to  all  sorts  of 
 vice ;  and  it  is  hard,  if  not  impossible,  for 
 a  prodigal  person  to  be  guilty  of  no  other 
 vice  but  prodigality.  For  men  generally 
 are  prodigal  because  they  are  first  intem- 
 perate, luxurious,  or  ambitious.  And  these, 
 we  know,  are  vices  too  brave  and  costly  to 
 lie  kept  and  maintained  at  an  easy  rate ; 
 they  must  have  large  pensions,  and  be  fed 
 with  both  hands,  though  the  man  that 
 feeds  them  starves  for  his  pains.  Ibid. 
 
 PEODIGALITY— Examples  of. 
 
 Lucullus,  the  Roman  general,  though 
 justly  admired  for  his  bravery,  justice,  and 
 clemency,  yet  is  deservedly  censured  for 
 his  extravagance  and  prodigality.  Cicero 
 and  Pompey  meeting  him  one  day  in  the 
 city,  told  him  they  intended  doing  them- 
 selvcs  the  pleasure  of  suppng  -.vitu   him 
 
 that  night ;  but  it  shall  be  upon  this  con- 
 dition, added  they,  that  you  have  nothing 
 extraordinary  on  our  account.  To  tliis  he 
 seemingly  agreed ;  but  guess  their  sur- 
 prise, when  they  sat  down  to  an  enter- 
 tainment that  cost  no  less  than  fifty 
 thousand  crowns  !  What  astonished  them 
 the  more  was  the  shortness  of  the  time  in 
 which  it  was  prepared ;  but  this  it  seems 
 was  little  more  than  his  ordinary  diet. 
 This  superflnous  pomp  and  mMgnificence 
 will  not  be  thought  incredible,  if  we  com- 
 pare it  with  that  of  Peter  du  Ruere  after 
 he  was  made  cardinal  by  the  pope  his 
 kinsman;  lor  within  the  space  of  two 
 years  which  he  lived  at  R(nne,  he  expended 
 in  feasts  and  entertainments  no  less  than 
 four  hundred  thousand  crowns. 
 
 Muleasses,  king  of  Thunes,  was  so  com- 
 plete an  epicure,  that  being  expelled  his 
 kingdom  for  his  infamous  debaucheries, 
 and  hearing  afterwards  that  Charles  V 
 was  inclined  to  reinstate  him  on  the 
 throne,  he  ordered  a  peacock  to  be  drest 
 for  his  supper,  and  spent  a  hundred  crowns 
 on  the  sauce. 
 
 The  emperor  Vitellius  was  likewise  so 
 shamefully  fond  of  superfluity  and  excess, 
 that  for  one  single  meal  he  has  ordered 
 two  thousand  diflerent  kinds  of  fish,  and 
 seven  thousand  fowls.  Without  doubt 
 these  epicures  agreed  with  the  poet 
 Philoxenus,  who  wished  that  he  had  a 
 crane's  neck,  that  he  might  the  longer 
 enjoy  the  pleasure  of  eating  and  drinking. 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 PEOFANENESS— an  Awful  Vice. 
 
 Profaneness  is  an  awful  vice.  Once 
 more  I  ask,  whose  name  is  it  you  so  lightly 
 use  ?  The  name  of  God  !  have  you  ever 
 pondered  its  meaning  ?  Have  you  ever 
 thought  what  it  is  that  you  mingle  thus 
 with  your  passion  and  your  wit  ?  It  is 
 the  name  of  Him  whom  the  heaven  of 
 heavens  cannot  contain.  Br.  Chapin. 
 
 PEOFANENESS— a  Brutal  Vice. 
 
 Are  there  any  before  me  who  are  ac- 
 customed to  use  God's  name  as  an  ex- 
 pletive, and  to  bandy  it  as  a  by-word  '^ 
 Who  employ  it  in  all  kinds  of  conversation, 
 and  throw  it  about  in  every  place  ?  Per- 
 haps in  their  hearts  they  consider  this  an 
 accomplishment !  think  it  manly  and  brave 
 to  swe;ir !  Let  me  say,  then,  that  pro- 
 faneness is  a  brutal  vice.  He  who  in- 
 dulges in  it  is  no  gentleman.  I  care  not 
 what  his  stamp  may  be  in  society.  I  care 
 not  what  clothes  he  wears,  or  what  culture 
 he  boasts.  Despite  all  his  refinement,  the 
 light  and  habitual  taking  of  God's  name 
 betrays  a  coarse  nature  and  a  brutal  will. 
 Nay,  he  tacitly  admits  that  it  is  ungentle- 
 manly.  He  restrains  his  oaths  in  tlie 
 presence  of  ladies;    and  he  wiio  fears  to 
 
PEOFANENESS— PEOFESSORS. 
 
 ruali  into  the  chancery  of  heaven  and  swear 
 by  the  Majesty  there,  is  decently  observant 
 in  the  drawing-room  and  the  parlour. 
 
 Dr.  Chapin. 
 PROFANENESS— a  Mean  Vice. 
 
 Profaneness  is  a  mean  vice.  According 
 to  general  estimation  he  who  repays  Icind- 
 ness  with  contumely,  he  who  abuses  his 
 friend  and  benefiictor,  is  deemed  pitiful 
 and  wretched.  And  yet,  oh  profane  man ! 
 whose  name  is  it  you  handle  so  lightly  ? 
 It  is  that  of  your  best  Benefactr)r  1  You, 
 whose  blood  would  boil  to  hear  the  vener- 
 able names  of  your  earthly  parents  hurled 
 about  in  scofls  and  jests,  abuse  without 
 compunction,  without  thought,  the  name 
 of  your  heavenly  Fatlier  !  Ibid. 
 
 PEOFANENESS-Punished. 
 
 The  following  facts  were  told  me  hy  a 
 good  man,  who  was  well  acquainted  with 
 the  person  spolcen  of  and  the  particulars 
 stated.  The  captain  of  a  vessel  which 
 sailed  in  the  North  Sea  from  the  port  of 
 Hull  was  a  notorious  blasphemer.  On 
 one  of  his  passages  he  met  with  a  suc- 
 cession of  storms  more  than  usual.  He 
 became  more  thnn  ordinary  profane,  and 
 in  the  rage  of  his  spirit  he  cursed  the 
 God  who  had  sent  such  storms.  That 
 instant  he  was  struck  with  paralysis,  and 
 the  use  of  his  speech  taken  from  him  for 
 life.  He  finally  lost  his  reason,  became  a 
 maniac,  and  died  a  wretched  death  in  an 
 asylum.  John  Bate. 
 
 PROFANENESS— a  Silly  Vice. 
 
 Profaneness  is  an  unmanly  and  silly 
 vice.  It  certainly  is  not  a  grace  in  con- 
 versation, and  it  adds  no  strength  to  it. 
 There  is  no  organic  symmetry  in  the  nar- 
 rative that  is  ingrained  with  oaths  ;  and 
 the  blasphemy  that  bolsters  an  opinion 
 does  not  make  it  any  more  correct.  Our 
 mother  English  has  variety  enough  to 
 make  a  story  sparkle,  and  to  give  point  to 
 wit;  it  has  toughness  enough  and  vehe- 
 mence enough  to  furnish  sinews  for  a 
 debate  and  to  drive  home  conviction,  with- 
 out degrading  the  holy  epithets  of  Jehovah. 
 Nay,  the  use  of  those  expletives,  argues  a 
 limited  range  of  ideas,  and  a  consciousness 
 of  being  on  the  wrong  side.  And,  if  we 
 can  find  no  other  phrases  through  which 
 to  vent  our  choking  passion,  we  had  better 
 repress  that  passion.  Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 PROFESSION— Dead. 
 
 I  have  seen  a  branch  bound  to  the 
 bleeding  tree,  that,  being  engrafted  into 
 its  wounded  side,  both  might  thus  be  one. 
 Yet  no  incorporation  followed ;  there  was 
 no  living  union.  Spring  came  singing, 
 and  with  her  fingers  opened  all  the  buds  ; 
 summer  came,  with  her  dewy  nights  and 
 
 sunny  days,  and  brought  out  all  the 
 flowers;  brown  autumn  came  to  shake  the 
 trees  and  reap  the  fields,  and  with  music 
 and  dances  and  mirth  to  hold  "  harvest 
 home  ;"  but  that  unhappy  branch  bore  no 
 fruit,  nor  flower,  nor  even  leaf  Just  held 
 on  by  dead  clay  and  rotting  cords  it  stuck 
 to  the  living  tree — a  withered  and  un- 
 sightly thing.  And  so,  alas !  is  it  with 
 many ;  "  having  a  name  to  live  they  are 
 dead."  They  have  no  faith  ;  they  want 
 that  bond  of  living  union  between  the 
 graft  and  what  it  is  grafted  on — between 
 the  sinner  and  the  Saviour. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 PROFESSION— Formal. 
 
 Painted  fire  needs  no  fuel ;  a  dead,  for- 
 mal profession  is  easily  kept  up.    Manton. 
 
 PROFESSION- Plausible. 
 
 A  plausible  profession  may  wear  the 
 look  of  innocence,  and  conceal  from  human 
 eyes  the  foulest  heart's  corruption.  The 
 grass  grows  green  upon  the  sides  of  the 
 mountain  that  hides  the  volcano  in  its 
 bowels.  Behind  the  rosy  cheek  and  lus- 
 trous eyes  of  beauty,  how  often  lurks  the 
 insidious  disease  that  cuts  away  the  life 
 within.  G.  S.  Boioes. 
 
 PEOFESSION— without  Practice. 
 
 This  may  be  likened  to  blighted  buds — 
 failing  fountains — tinsel  toys— shells  which 
 contain  no  kernels — lilies,  fair  in  show, 
 but  foul  in  scent.  Scribes  and  Pharisees 
 (Matt.  V,  20;  xxiii,  2—7);  tares  among 
 wheat  (Matt,  xiii,  24—30) ;  foolish  virgins 
 (Matt.  XXV,  1—13);  the  man  without  the 
 wedding  garment  (Matt,  xxii,  11);  the 
 mirage.  Ibid. 
 
 PEOFESSION— Eeligious. 
 
 The  religious  profession  of  some  people 
 is  like  the  ashes  on  a  rusty  altar,  which 
 show  that  there  once  were  warmth  and 
 light  and  flame,  but  which  also  show  that 
 it  is  long  since  they  worshipped  there. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 PEOFESSOES —Fruitless. 
 
 When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes 
 them  out  into  his  garden  again,  and  led 
 them  to  a  tree,  whose  inside  was  all  rotten 
 and  gone,  and  yet  it  grew  and  had  leaves. 
 Then  said  Mercy,  What  means  this  ?  This 
 tree  (said  he),  whose  outside  is  fair,  and 
 whose  inside  is  rotten,  is  it  to  which  many 
 may  be  compared  that  are  in  the  garden 
 of  God  ;  who  with  their  mouths  speak  high 
 in  behalf  of  God,  but  in  deed  will  do  no- 
 thing for  Him  ;  whose  leaves  are  fair,  but 
 their  heart  good  for  nothing,  but  to  be 
 tinder  for  the  devil's  tiuder-box. 
 
 Bunyan. 
 
700 
 
 PROGSESS— PROMISES. 
 
 PEOGRESS— Ilental  and  Spiritual. 
 
 Gradual  ascent  is  as  necessary  to  the 
 mind  in  order  to  its  reaching  a  great  idea, 
 as  it  is  to  the  body,  in  order  to  its  reaching 
 a  great  height.  We  cannot  ascend  to  the 
 pinnacle  of  a  catliedral,  wliich  towers  aloft 
 in  air,  without  either  steps  or  an  inclined 
 plane.  We  cannot  reach  the  summit  of  a 
 mountain  without  tirst  toiling  up  its  base, 
 then  traversing  its  breast,  and  then,  suc- 
 cessively, crossing  the  limits  where  verdure 
 passes  into  crag,  and  ci-ag  into  a  wilder- 
 riess  of  snow.  Even  wlien  we  have  gained 
 tlie  highest  point,  we  are  still,  it  is  true, 
 at  an  infinite  distance  from  the  blue  vault 
 of  tile  firmament  which  stretches  above 
 our  lieads.  Still  we  have  a  better  and 
 more  exalted  view  of  what  that  firmament 
 is ;  we  have  at  least  risen  above  the  fogs 
 and  mists  which  obscure  its  glory ;  and 
 the  air  which  encompasses  us  is  transparent 
 to  the  eye,  and  invigorating  to  the  frame. 
 Now  the  law  of  man's  bodily  progress  is 
 also  the  law  of  his  mental  progress.  Both 
 must  be  gradual.  No  grand  idea  can  be 
 realised  except  by  successive  steps  and 
 stages,  which  the  mind  must  use  as  landing- 
 places  in  its  ascent.  But  what  if  the 
 mind,  after  all  its  toil,  should  prove  unable 
 fully  to  master  the  idea,  as  must  be  the 
 case  where  the  idea  to  be  mastered  is  con- 
 nected with  God  and  things  Divine  ?  It 
 does  not  at  all  follow  that  therefore  our 
 labour  has  been  lost.  We  have,  at  all 
 events,  risen  to  a  higher  level,  where  our 
 view  is  more  transparent,  more  elevating, 
 more  sublime,  and  where  the  play  of  the 
 thoughts  is  invigorating  to  the  inner  man. 
 Dr.  Qoulburn. 
 PROMISE— Definition  of  a. 
 
 What  is  a  promise  ?  It  is  a  declaration 
 of  God's  will,  wherein  He  signifies  what 
 particular  good  things  He  will  bestow,  and 
 the  evils  that  He  will  remove. 
 
 Spurstowe. 
 PROMISES— Bills  of  Exchange: 
 
 All  the  promises  in  the  Bible  are  so 
 many  bills  of  exchange  drawn  by  God  the 
 Father  in  heaven  upon  His  Son  Jesus 
 Christ,  and  payable  to  every  pious  bearer  j 
 viz.,  to  every  one  tliat  comes  to  the  mercy- 
 seat,  and  oflers  the  promise  or  bill  for  ac- 
 ceptance, and  pleads  in  a  way  of  obedient 
 faith  and  prayer.  Jesus,  the  High  Treasurer 
 of  heaven,  knows  every  letter  of  His 
 Father's  handwriting,  and  can  never  be 
 imposed  upon  by  any  forged  note ;  He 
 will  ever  put  due  honour  upon  His  Father's 
 bills ;  He  accepts  them  all.  It  is  for  the 
 Father's  honour  that  His  bills  never  fail 
 of  acceptance  and  payment. 
 
 J.  Beaumont. 
 
 PROMISES— Casket  of. 
 
 Where  is  thy  casket  of  promises  ?  Bring 
 
 it  out ;  open  the  jar  of  jewels.  Pour  out 
 the  golden  ingot,  stamped  with  the  image 
 and  superscription  of  heaven's  Kin^. 
 Count  over  the  diamonds  that  flash  in 
 thy  hand  like  stars.  Compute  the  worth 
 of  that  single  jewel,  "Ask  and  ye  shall 
 receive  ;"  or  that  other  ruby,  "  All  things 
 shall  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
 love  God."  Bring  forth  that  royal  Koh-i- 
 noor,  "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved." 
 Then  remember  who  it  is  that  gave  them, 
 and  to  what  an  unworthy  sinner,  and  tell 
 me  if  they  are  not  "  exceeding  great  and 
 precious."  When  Caesar  once  gave  a  man 
 a  great  reward,  he  exclaimed,  "  This  is  too 
 great  a  gift  for  me  to  receive."  "  But," 
 said  Caesar,  "  it  is  not  too  great  a  gift  for 
 me  to  give."  So  the  smallest  promise  in 
 thy  casket  is  too  much  for  thee  to  deserve ; 
 yet  the  most  magnificent  promise  is  not 
 too  great  for  the  King  of  kings  to  bestow. 
 God  scorns  to  act  meanly  and  stingily  by 
 His  cliildren  ;  and  how  must  He  scorn  us 
 often  when  we  put  Him  off  with  such  con- 
 temptible stinginess  of  deeds  or  donations ! 
 C.  H.  &purgeon. 
 PROMISES— Comfort  in  the. 
 
 In  the  sad  winter  of  desertion  when  the 
 verdure  of  all  other  comforts  wither,  and 
 drop  like  leaves  that  are  bitten  with  the 
 fi-ost,  the  promises  are,  rosa  in  hyeme, 
 roses  that  blow  in  the  winter,  and  do  with 
 their  beauty  delight  and  with  their 
 fragrance  revive  the  drooping  and  de- 
 jected soul. 
 
 They  give  pure  comfort;  satisfactory 
 comfort;  abiding  coxaSott;  universal  com- 
 fort. Spurstowe. 
 PROMISES— Conditional. 
 
 The  reward  in  the  promise  is  not  to  him 
 that  sits  still,  and  expects  salvation  to  drop 
 into  his  lap,  but  to  him  that  seeks  and 
 pursues  after  it. 
 
 To  wrestle  and  strive  with  God,  like 
 Jacob,  for  the  gaining  of  a  blessing,  is  not 
 superfluous,  because  God  hath  promised  it, 
 but  necessary,  because  He  hath  com- 
 manded it. 
 
 It  was  a  scandal  that  Pharaoh  brought 
 upon  the  religion  of  the  Israelites,  that  it 
 made  them  idle.  And  it  is  a  wrong  done 
 to  the  promise  of  the  Gospel  by  carnal 
 libertines,  who  make  use  only  of  them  to 
 countenance  tlieir  sloth,  and  not  quicken 
 their  obedience. 
 
 None  that  ever  I  have  heard  of  have 
 held  marriage  vain  or  unnecessary  for  the 
 propagation  of  mankind,  who  have  yet 
 been  of  opinion  that  the  soul  is  not 
 generated,  but  immediately  created  and 
 infused  by  God :  no  more  can  any  man 
 rationally  conclude  that,  because  the  pro- 
 mises of  God  are  the  declarations  of  His 
 unchangeable  purpose  and  will,  therefore 
 duties  and  endeavours  are  superfluous  to 
 
PSOMISES. 
 
 -01 
 
 tlie  effecting  of  any  good  which  He  hath 
 prouiised  to  confer  upon  us.        Spurstowe. 
 
 PROMISES— Faith  in  the. 
 
 Promises  are  like  the  clothes  we  wear. 
 If  there  be  he;it  in  the  hody  to  warm  them, 
 they  warm  us ;  but  if  there  b6  none,  they 
 give  none.  So  where  there  is  living  faith 
 the  promise  will  afford  warm  comfort ; 
 but  on  a  dead,  unbelieving  heart,  it  lies 
 cold  and  ineffectual :  it  has  no  more  effect 
 than  pouring  a  cordial  down  the  throat  of 
 a  corpse.  Again,  the  promises  do  not 
 throw  out  comfort  as  fire  throws  out  heat : 
 for  then  we  should  only  need  to  go  to 
 them  in  order  to  be  warmed ;  their  heat 
 is  like  the  tire  in  the  flint,  which  must  be 
 struck  out  by  force,  and  this  force  can  only 
 be  applied  by  faith.  Gurnall. 
 
 PPuOMISES— Pulfilment  of  the. 
 
 As  the  herbs  and  flowers  which  sleep  all 
 winter  in  their  roots  underground,  when 
 the  time  of  spring  approaclieth  presently 
 start  forth  of  their  beds,  where  they  had 
 lain  so  long  unperceived,  thus  will  the 
 promise  in  its  season  do.  He  delays  who 
 passeth  the  time  appointed ;  but  he  only 
 stays  that  waits  for  the  appointed  time, 
 and  then  comes.  Every  promise  is  dated, 
 but  with  a  mysterious  character;  and  for 
 want  of  skill  in  God's  chronology  we  are 
 prone  to  think  that  God  forgets  us,  when 
 indeed  we  forget  ourselves  in  being  so  bold 
 to  set  God  a  time  of  our  own,  and  in  being 
 angry  that  He  comes  not  just  then  to  us. 
 Ibid. 
 
 PSOMISES— Fulness  of  the. 
 
 The  promises  which  God  hath  made  are 
 a  full  storehouse  of  all  kind  of  blessings  ; 
 they  include  in  them  both  the  upper  and 
 nether  springs,  the  mercies  of  this  life  and 
 of  that  which  is  to  come  :  there  is  no  good 
 tiiat  can  present  itself  as  an  object  to  our 
 desires  or  thoughts,  of  which  the  promises 
 are  not  a  ground  for  faith  to  believe  and 
 hope  to  expect  the  enjoyment  of. 
 
 Sjjurstoioe. 
 
 Diodorus  tells  of  a  city  in  Sicilia  that 
 was  called  Triocala,  because  it  had  springs 
 of  water  of  a  superlative  sweetness,  vine- 
 yards of  the  choicest  wines,  and  rocks  of 
 the  most  impregnable  strength.  But  how 
 much  more  truly  may  the  promises  of  the 
 Gospel  be  styled,  not  Triocala,  hntPancala, 
 which  are  not  only  as  overflowing  well- 
 springs  of  living  water,  nor  as  pleasant 
 vineyards  that  abound  with  wine  that 
 makes  glad  the  heart,  nor  as  insuperable 
 rocks  against  which  the  gates  of  hell  are 
 never  able  to  prevail,  but  are  also  a  celes- 
 tial Eden,  in  which  (as  Bernard  pithily) 
 there   is   totum  quod  velis,  et  nihil  quod 
 
 nolis,  everything  that  you  would  desire, 
 and  nothing  that  you  would  dislike. 
 
 Spursiowe. 
 
 PROMISES— Meditation  on  the. 
 
 The  promises,  as  they  must  be  read  in 
 the  Scripture  with  diligence,  so  must  they 
 be  called  to  remembrance  by  many  serious 
 musings  and  actions  of  our  thoughts  upon 
 them,  else  they  will  never  prove  strengthen- 
 ing and  reviving  cordials.  Koses  are 
 sweeter  in  the  still  than  on  the  stalk; 
 and  promises  are  moi-e  fragrant  in  the 
 heart  than  in  the  book.  The  grapes  hang- 
 ing on  the  vine  do  not  make  the  wine  that 
 cheers  the  heart  of  man ;  but  the  grapes 
 that  are  squeezed  and  trodden  in  the  wine- 
 press ;  no  more  do  the  promises  as  they 
 stand  in  the  Bible  work  joy  and  gladness ; 
 but  as  they  are  pondered  in  the  mind,  and 
 like  pressed  grapes  have  their  juice  and 
 virtue  drawn  from  them,  which  by  a  per- 
 colation in  the  thoughts  turns  into  a  most 
 sovereign  and  precious  liquor.  Ibid. 
 
 PROMISES— Peace  from  the. 
 
 Oh  the  happy  peace  and  serenity  that  a 
 believer  enjoys,  in  every  estate  and  con- 
 dition which  befalls  him,  that  can  rest  and 
 stay  himself  upon  the  promise  and  power 
 of  God  !  No  valley  of  trouble  will  be  to  him 
 without  a  door  of  hope,  no  barren  wilder- 
 ness without  manna,  no  dry  rock  without 
 water,  no  dungeon  without  light,  no  fiery 
 trial  without  comfort,  because  he  hath  tbe 
 same  Word  and  the  same  God  to  tru-t  to, 
 whose  power  opened  tiie  sea  as  a  door  to 
 be  a  passage  from  Egypt  to  Canaan ;  who 
 fed  Israel  in  the  desert  with  bread  from 
 heaven,  and  water  from  the  rock ;  who 
 filled  Peter's  prison  with  a  shining  light ; 
 who  made  the  three  children  to  walk  to 
 and  fro  amidst  the  fiery  furnace  with  joy 
 and  safety.  Ibid. 
 
 PROMISES— Plain. 
 
 I  remember  an  aged  minister  used  to 
 say,  that  the  most  learned  and  knowing 
 Christians,  when  they  come  to  die,  have 
 only  the  same  plain  promises  for  their  sup- 
 port as  the  common  and  unlearned ;  and 
 so  I  find  it  in  my  old  age.  It  is  the  plain 
 promises  of  the  Gospel  that  are  my  sup- 
 port; and  I  bless  God  they  are  plain  pro- 
 mises, which  do  not  require  much  labour 
 and  pains  to  understand  them  ;  for  I  can 
 do  nothing  now  but  look  into  my  Bible 
 for  some  promise  to  support  me,  and  live 
 upon  that.  Dr.  Watts. 
 
 PROMISES— Preciousness  of  the. 
 
 The  promises  of  God  are  to  the  believer 
 an  inexhaustible  mine  of  wealth.  Happy 
 is  it  for  him  if  he  knows  how  to  search 
 out  their  secret  veins,  and  enrich  himself 
 with   their   hid  treasures.      Thev  are  au 
 
702 
 
 PSOMISES. 
 
 armoury,  containing  all  manner  of  offen- 
 sive and  defensive  weapons.  Blessed  is  he 
 who  has  learned  to  enter  into  the  sacred 
 arsenal,  to  put  on  the  breastplate  and  the 
 helmet,  and  to  lay  his  hand  to  the  speur 
 and  to  the  sword.  They  are  a  surgery  in 
 which  the  believer  will  find  all  manner  of 
 restoratives  and  blessed  elixirs  ;  nor  lacks 
 there  an  ointment  for  every  wound,  a 
 cordial  for  every  faintness,  a  remedy  for 
 every  disease.  Blessed  is  he  who  is  well 
 skilled  in  heavenly  pharmacy,  and  knoweth 
 how  to  lay  hold  on  the  healing  virtues  or 
 the  promises  of  God.  The  promises  are  to 
 the  Christian  a  storehouse  of  food.  They 
 are  as  the  granaries  which  Joseph  built  in 
 Egypt,  or  as  the  golden  pot  wherein  the 
 manna  was  preserved.  Blessed  is  he  who 
 can  take  the  five  barley  loaves  and  fislies 
 of  promise,  and  break  them  till  his  five 
 thousand  necessities  shall  all  be  supplied, 
 and  he  is  able  to  gather  up  baskets  full  of 
 fragments.  The  promises  are  the  Chris- 
 tian's Magna  Charta  of  liberty;  they  are 
 the  title  deeds  of  his  heavenly  estate. 
 Happy  is  he  who  knoweth  how  to  read 
 them  well,  and  call  them  all  his  own.  Yea, 
 they  are  the  jewel  room  in  which  the 
 Christian's  crown  treasures  are  preserved. 
 The  regalia  are  his,  secretly  to  admire  to- 
 day, which  he  shall  openly  wear  in  para- 
 dise hereafter.  He  is  already  privileged 
 as  a  king  with  the  silver  key  that  unlocks 
 the  strong  room  ;  he  may  even  now  grasp 
 the  sceptre,  wear  the  crown,  and  put  upon 
 his  shoulders  the  imperial  mantle.  Oh, 
 how  unutterably  ri(;h  are  the  promises  of 
 our  faithful,  covenant-keeping  God !  If 
 we  had  the  tongue  of  the  mightiest  of 
 orators,  and  if  that  tongue  could  be 
 touched  with  a  live  coal  from  off  the  altar, 
 yet  still  it  could  not  utter  a  tenth  of  the 
 praises  of  the  exceeding  great  and  precious 
 promises  of  God.  Nay,  they  who  have 
 entered  into  rest,  whose  tongues  are  at- 
 tuned to  the  lofty  and  rapturous  eloquence 
 of  cherubim  and  seraphim,  even  they  can 
 never  tell  the  height  and  depth,  the  length 
 and  breadth  of  the  unsearchable  riches  of 
 Christ  wliich  are  stored  up  in  the  treasure- 
 house  of  God^the  pi'omises  of  the  cove- 
 nant of  His  grace.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 PROMISES— Satan  and  the. 
 
 When  Faith  would  lay  hold  on  the 
 promises,  Satan  rappeth  her  on  the  fingers, 
 as  it  were,  and  seeks  to  beat  her  off. 
 
 Trapp. 
 PSOMISES— Stahility  of  the. 
 
 Every  promise  is  built  upon  four  pillars  : 
 God's  justice  and  holiness,  which  will  not 
 sulTer  Him  to  deceive;  His  grace  or  good- 
 ness, which  will  not  suffer  Him  to  forget  ; 
 His  truth,  which  will  not  suffer  Him  to 
 change  ;  His  power,  which  makes  Him  able 
 to  accomplish.  Salter. 
 
 PSOMISES— Surety  of  the. 
 
 Promises  are  like  bonds,  which  depend 
 altogether  upon  the  sufficiency  of  the 
 surety.  If  a  beggar  seal  an  instrument 
 for  the  payment  of  ten  thousand  pounds, 
 who  esteems  it  to  be  any  better  than  a 
 blank  ?  but  if  a  man  of  estate  and  ability 
 do  bind  himself  to  pay  such  a  sum,  it  is 
 looked  upon  as  so  much  real  estate,  and 
 men  value  themselves  by  such  bills  and 
 bonds  as  well  as  by  what  is  in  their  own 
 possession.  God,  who  hath  made  rich 
 promises  to  believers,  is  able  to  perform 
 what  He  hath  spoken.  He  is  rich  in, 
 mercy,  Eph.  ii,  4.  Abundant  in  goodness 
 and  truth,  Exod.  xxxiv,  6.  He  is  the  God 
 of  truth,  Ps.  x.\xi,  5.  The  Father  of 
 mercies,  2  Cor.  i,  3.  Spurstowe. 
 
 PSOMISES-in  Trouble. 
 
 No  music  is  half  so  sweet,  no  eloquence 
 is  near  so  charming,  no  picture  is  at  all  so 
 attractive,  as  the  precious  promises  given 
 to  us  by  the  Faithful  and  True  Witness. 
 Like  the  Aurora  Borealis  shining  on  the 
 frosty  and  sombre  sky,  tinging  it  with 
 beautiful  colours,  and  relieving  it  with 
 brilliant  rays,  the  promises  of  the  Gospel 
 shine,  in  tints  of  light  and  smiles  of  love, 
 on  the  cold  and  gloomy  night  of  trouble, 
 cheering  the  heart  of  every  child  of  God 
 with  delightful  tokens  of  the  presence  and 
 the  kindness  of  his  heavenly  Father. 
 
 P.  J.  Wright. 
 PSOMISES— Trusting  the. 
 
 When  a  pious  old  slave  on  a  Virginia 
 plantation  was  asked  why  he  was  always 
 so  sunny-hearted  and  cheerful  under  his 
 hard  lot,  he  replied,  "  Ah  !  massa,  I  always 
 lays  flat  down  on  de  promises,  and  den  I 
 pray  straight  up  to  my  hebenly  Father." 
 
 Humble,  happy  soul !  he  was  not  the 
 first  man  who  has  eased  an  aching  head 
 by  laying  it  upon  God's  pillows  ;  or  the 
 first  man  who  has  risen  up  the  stronger 
 from  a  repose  on  the  UTichangeable  word 
 of  God's  love.  Spiritually  that  man  was 
 a  Croesus,  for  all  his  soul's  wealth  was  in 
 the  currency  of  heaven.  If  you  take  a 
 Bank  of  England  note  to  the  counter  of 
 the  bank,  in  an  instant  that  bit  of  paper 
 turns  to  gold.  If  we  take  a  promise  of 
 God  to  the  mercy-seat  it  turns  to  what  is 
 better  than  gold — to  our  own  good  and 
 the  glory  of  our  Father. 
 
 The  solvency  of  a  bank  or  of  a  Govern- 
 ment gives  the  value  to  its  notes.  So  it 
 is  the  everlasting  faithfulness  of  God  that 
 makes  a  Bible-promise  "  exceeding  great 
 and  precious."  Human  promises  are  often 
 worthless.  Many  a  broken  promise  has 
 left  a  broken  heart.  But  since  the  world 
 was  made,  God  has  never  broken  a  single 
 promise  made  to  one  of  His  trusting  chil- 
 dren.    He  is  not  a  man,  that  He  should 
 
PXOMPTNESS  -PSOSPEEITY. 
 
 703 
 
 lie.  "When  God  promises  pardon  to  a 
 believing  penitent  here,  and  glory  here- 
 after, He  does  it  in  the  lull  view  of  all  the 
 risks  that  we  can  possibly  encounter. 
 When  He  promises  to  take  care  of  His 
 children.  He  knows  perfectly  well  how 
 much  it  will  cost  Him  to  maintain  so  vast 
 and  necessitous  a  family. 
 
 C.  S.  Spurgeon. 
 
 PROMPTNESS. 
 
 If  it  were  done  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere 
 
 well 
 It  were  done  quickly.  ShaJcespeare. 
 
 PROMPTNESS  IN  DUTY. 
 
 Never  judge  by  appearances  as  to  the 
 relative  importance  of  duties.  What  seems 
 the  least  important  may  be  all  important. 
 Had  the  widow  not  given  her  mite  the 
 day  she  did  to  the  treasury,  but  delayed 
 it  a  week,  how  much  would  she  herself, 
 and  the  whole  Christian  church,  have  lost 
 by  the  delay !  Our  only  safe  rule  is, 
 "  Whatsoever  our  hand  findeth  to  do,  to 
 do  it  with  all  our  might."  Let  it  be  a 
 subject  of>  daily  prayer,  as  well  as  an  ob- 
 ject of  daily  endeavour,  to  do  our  right 
 work  at  the  right  time.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 PROOFS  ARE  FOR  SCEPTICS. 
 
 Would  you  prove  the  magic  of  the  night, 
 the  rich  harvests,  the  flowering  meadows, 
 to  a  man  who,  from  dawn  to  twilight,  and 
 often  under  the  moon,  traverses  the  fields, 
 who  draws  his  scythe  through  the  grass 
 glittering  with  dew,  who  returns  in  the 
 evening  by  the  sides  of  rivers  in  which  the 
 stars  are  reflected  ?  But  what  eloquence 
 would  be  necessary,  what  power  of  descrip- 
 tion and  of  reasoning,  to  bring  all  this, 
 living  and  real,  to  the  child  of  a  miner, 
 some  poor,  dwarfed  creature,  who,  in  the 
 bowels  of  the  earth,  a  smoking  lamp  fast- 
 ened to  his  head,  pushes  his  track  along  a 
 dark  gallery. 
 
 To  him  who  sees,  belief  is  easy ;  the 
 thing  exists;   I  touch  it ;  it  is  mine. 
 
 To  him  who  sees  not,  you  must  bring 
 faith  ;  and  he  who  names  faith  names  con- 
 test and  conflict.        Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 PROPHECIES. 
 
 Fulfilled  and  unfulfilled,  the  prophecies 
 are  mountains  and  valleys  —  mountains, 
 from  whose  gilded  summits  you  may  look 
 on  vistas  through  the  fog — straths  of  sun- 
 shine in  the  vapour-fiood,  where  glorious 
 things  and  gladsome  stand  revealed,  whilst 
 from  the  echoing  sides  of  ravines  still  dark 
 and  misty,  comes  up  the  heavy  footfall  or 
 terrific  cry  of  sorrows  not  seen  as  yet. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 PROPHECY— Interpretation  of. 
 
 The  apostle's  negative  maxim,  "  that  no 
 prophecy    is   of   self- interpretation,"   has 
 
 within  it  two  afiirmative  rules  of  expo- 
 sition,— that  every  single  text  of  prophecy 
 is  to  be  considered  as  a  part  of  an  entire 
 system,  and  to  be  interpreted  in  that  sense 
 which  may  best  connect  it  with  the  whole ; 
 and  that  the  sense  of  prophecy  in  general 
 is  to  be  sought  in  the  events  which  have 
 actually  taken  place.  Bjp.  Sorsley. 
 
 PROPHECY— Utterance  of. 
 
 To  utter  true  prophecy  must  require,  for 
 a  world  like  this,  infinite  wisdom  no  less 
 than  knowledge  ;  and  that  we  need  not 
 wonder  at  any  of  the  obscurities  which 
 precede  its  fulfilment,  if  it  but  be  made 
 plain  when  it  is  fulfilled.  For  He  alone 
 wlio  perfectly  knows  the  conditions  under 
 wliich  such  intimations  can  be  given,  with- 
 out disturbing  that  course  of  events  in 
 which  foreknown  and  predetermined  issues 
 are  to  be  wrought  out  by  voluntary  agents 
 and  moral  means,  can  paint  the  future  in 
 that  chiaroscuro  which  shall  neither  allow 
 man  to  anticipate  or  frustrate  any  part  of 
 it ;  which  shall  leave  him  the  ignorant 
 instrument  of  working  out  the  designs  of 
 a  higher  will,  while  he  yet  follows  his  own  ; 
 so  to  act,  that  the  supreme  Ruler  has  His 
 end,  and  we  have  ours.  S.  Rogers. 
 
 PROPHETS— Inspiration  of  the. 
 
 Some  men  ask,  If  the  prophets  spake  as 
 they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  why 
 did  they  not  all  speak  in  the  same  manner  ? 
 why  these  varieties  of  style  ? 
 
 I  will  answer  that  by  asking  you  another 
 question  :  Why  do  not  all  the  pipes  of  that 
 organ  give  one  and  the  same  sound  ?  What 
 awiikens  all  the  sounds,  but  one  and  the 
 same  blast  from  the  wind-chest  ?  If  theie 
 be  a  mono-blast,  why  is  there  not  a  mono- 
 tone ?  Because  the  pipes  are  of  difierent 
 shapes  and  different  sizes :  the  awakening 
 breath  is  one,  the  intonation  varies  with 
 the  shape  and  size  of  the  pipe.  The  in- 
 sj)iratiou  was  one,  but  the  style  and  man- 
 ner varied  with  the  disposition  and  cha- 
 racter of  the  individual  employed. 
 
 Dr.  M'Neile. 
 
 PROSPERITY— Cost  of. 
 
 "  What  is  the  value  of  this  estate  ?"  said 
 a  gentleman  to  another  with  whom  he  was 
 riding,  as  they  passed  a  fine  mansion  and 
 through  rich  fields. 
 
 "  I  don't  know  what  it  is  valued  at;  I 
 know  what  it  cost  its  late  possessor." 
 
 "  How  much?" 
 
 "  His  soul." 
 
 A  solemn  pause  followed  this  brief  an- 
 swer. The  person  to  whom  it  was  given 
 was  not  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
 and  His  righteousness. 
 
 The  late  possessor  referred  to  was  the 
 son  of  a  pious  man  who  supported  his 
 family  by  the  labour  of  his  hands.  The 
 son  early  obtained  a  subordinate  positiou 
 
704 
 
 PSOSPESITY. 
 
 in  a  mercantile  estaLlishment  in  this  city. 
 He  was  tlien  a  professor  of  religion.  He 
 continued  to  maintain  a  reputable  pro- 
 fession till  he  became  a  partner  in  the  con- 
 cern. He  then  cjave  increasing  attention 
 to  business,  and  less  to  religion.  Ere  he 
 was  an  old  man,  he  had  become  exceed- 
 ingly wealthy  and  miserly,  and  no  one 
 who  knew  hiin  had  any  suspicion  that  he 
 had  ever  been  a  professor  of  religion.  He 
 purchased  a  large  landed  estate,  built  the 
 costly  mansion  referred  to  above,  and  died. 
 Just  before  he  died,  he  said,  "  My  pros- 
 perity has  been  my  ruin."  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 PROSPEEITY— Danger  of. 
 
 Strolling  along  the  banks  of  a  pond, 
 Gotthold  observed  a  pike  basking  in  the 
 sun,  and  so  pleased  with  the  svv-eet  sooth- 
 ing rays  as  to  forget  itself  and  the  danger 
 to  which  it  was  exposed.  Thereupon  a  boy 
 approached,  and  with  a  snare  formed  of  a 
 horsehair  and  fastened  to  the  end  of  a 
 rod,  which  he  skilfully  cast  over  his  head, 
 pulled  it  in  an  instant  out  of  the  water. 
 "Ah  me!"  said  Gotthold,  with  a  deep 
 sigh,  "  how  evidently  do  I  here  behold 
 shadowed  forth  the  danger  of  my  poor 
 fioul !  When  the  beams  of  temporal  pros- 
 perity play  upon  us  to  our  hearts'  content, 
 so  grateful  are  they  to  corrupt  flesh  and 
 blood,  that,  immersed  in  sordid  pleasure, 
 luxury,  and  security,  we  lose  all  sense  of 
 spiritual  danger,  and  all  thought  of  eter- 
 nity. In  this  state  many  are,  in  fact, 
 suddenly  snatched  away  to  the  eternal 
 ruin  of  their  souls."  Gotthold. 
 
 Many  are  not  able  to  suffer  and  endure 
 prosperity;  it  is  like  the  light  of  tlie  sun 
 to  a  weak  eye ;  glorious,  indeed,  in  itself, 
 but  not  proportioned  to  such  an  instru- 
 ment; Adam  himself  (as  the  Rabbins  say) 
 did  not  dwell  one  night  in  paradise,  but 
 was  poisoned  with  prosperity,  with  the 
 beauty  of  his  fair  wife,  and  a  beauteous 
 tree ;  and  Noah  and  Lot  were  both  right- 
 eous and  exemplary,  the  one  to  Sodom,  and 
 the  other  to  the  old  world,  so  long  as  they 
 lived  in  a  place  in  which  they  were  ob- 
 noxious to  tlie  common  suffering ;  but  as 
 soon  as  the  one  of  them  had  escaped  from 
 drowning  and  the  other  from  burning,  and 
 put  into  security,  they  fell  into  crimes 
 which  have  dishonoured  their  memories 
 for  above  thirty  generations  together,  the 
 crimes  of  drunkenness  and  incest.  Wealth 
 and  a  full  fortune  make  men  licentiously 
 vicious,  tempting  a  man  with  power,  to  act 
 all  that  he  can  desire  or  design  viciouslv. 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 PROSPERITY— Fallen  from. 
 
 Sheep  crowding  for  shade  round  an  old 
 leafless  stump.  It  cannot  shade  them  nnw. 
 Analogy :  a  man  fallen  from  his  prosperity 
 
 and  power  cannot  patronise  now.  None  will 
 seek  hiin  now  but  the  simple.  J.  Foster. 
 PROSPERITY— Friends  in. 
 
 When  the  trees  are  full  of  blossoms  and 
 sweetness,  the  bees  haunt  them  in  crowds, 
 and  hum  among  the  branches  in  all  good 
 temper,  gathering  honey  from  the  flowers. 
 "  See,"  said  Gotthold,  "  here  is  an  image 
 of  temporal  prosperity.  So  long  as  there 
 is  blossom  on  the  trees,  and  honey  in  the 
 blossom,  the  bees  will  frequent  them  in 
 crowds,  and  fill  the  place  with  tlieir  music, 
 but  when  the  blossom  is  over,  and  the 
 honey  gone,  they,  too,  will  disappear.  The 
 same  happens  in  the  world  among  men. 
 In  the  abodes  of  fortune  and  pleasure, 
 friends  are  found  in  plenty ;  but  when 
 fortune  flies  away,  they  depart  along  with 
 it.  Temporal  gain  is  the  world's  honey, 
 and  the  allurement  with  which  you  may 
 entice  it  whithersoever  you  will ;  but 
 where  the  gain  terminates,  there,  like- 
 wise, do  the  love  and  friendship  of  the 
 world  stop.  For  this  reason  let  all  good 
 men  be  advised  to  fly  to  Christ  crucified, 
 who  never  forsakes,  in  their  distress,  those 
 who  truly  seek  him."  Gotthold. 
 
 While  thou  art  fortunate  thou  shalt  have 
 
 frieuds. 
 But  in  adversity  their  friendship  ends. 
 Thou  seest  how  doves  to  new-built  houses 
 
 come. 
 While  as  the  ruin'd  tower  all  birds  do  shun. 
 The  empty  barn  no  vermin  ever  haunt. 
 And  no  friend  comes  to  him  that  is  in  want. 
 While  the  sun  shines  our  shadow  then  will 
 
 stay. 
 But  when  o'ercast  it  vanishes  away. 
 So  do  the  people  follow  fortune's  light, 
 Which  clouded  once,  they   vanish  out  of 
 
 sight.  Ovid. 
 
 PROSPERITY— Security  in. 
 
 0  my  God,  vouchsafe  to  me  Thy  grace, 
 that  I  may  learn  to  rejoice  as  though  I 
 rejoice  not,  and  buy  as  though  I  possessed 
 not,  and  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  it ; 
 for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away 
 (1  Cor.  vii,  30,  31).  In  the  midst  oV 
 pleasures  and  enjoyments  let  me  still  feel, 
 like  the  Psalmist,  that  the  best  of  all  is  to 
 draw  near  unto  Thee ;  and  I  never  forget 
 Thy  fear.  Break  also  the  snares  with 
 which  Satan  endeavours  to  make  a  prey 
 of  my  soul,  but  which,  in  my  misery,  I 
 cannot  see ;  and  for  this  I  shall  laud  and 
 praise  Thee  in  eternity.  Gotthold. 
 
 PROSPERITY— True. 
 
 Real  prosperity  is  not  to  be  estimated 
 by  large  estates  or  great  wealth.  It  is 
 the  blessing  of  the  Lord  that  maketh  rich. 
 It  is  this  which  gives  to  the  possessions  of 
 earth  their  true  value,  and  which  miikes 
 the   little   that   the   righteous   man   hack 
 
PEOSPEEITY— PROTESTANT  CHURCH,  ETC. 
 
 ro5 
 
 tetter  than  all  the  wealth  of  the  wicked. 
 It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  be- 
 cause a  man  has  much  of  this  world's 
 goods  and  gold,  therefore  he  is  prosperous. 
 Why,  his  wealth  may  be  iinder  a  curse. 
 Unblessed  riches  are  burdensome  to  keep, 
 and  they  are  tar  from  being  comfortable  to 
 enjoy.  They  more  frequently  secure  their 
 possessor  than  their  possessor  them.  We 
 see  how  much  such  a  man  has,  and  we  are 
 apt  to  envy  him  ;  did  we  see  how  little  he 
 enjoys,  we  should  be  led  to  pity  him.  It 
 is  not  what  a  man  has,  but  what  a  man 
 is,  that  constitutes  the  secret  of  his  happi- 
 ness. Our  Saviour  tells  us — and  what  a 
 difl'erent  world  it  would  be  if  men  would 
 only  believe  Him  : — "  A  man's  life  con- 
 sistetli  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things 
 he  possesseth."  R.  T.  Jeffrey. 
 
 PROSPERITY— Vahaing. 
 
 A  king  was  sitting  in  a  vessel  with  a 
 Persian  slave.  The  boy  having  never 
 before  seen  the  sea,  nor  experienced  the 
 inconvenience  of  a  ship,  began  to  cry 
 and  lament,  and  his  whole  body  was  in 
 a  tremor.  Notwithstanding  all  the  sooth- 
 ings  that  were  offered,  he  would  not  be 
 pacified.  The  king's  diversion  was  inter- 
 rupted, and  no  remedy  could  be  found. 
 A  philosopher  who  was  in  the  ship,  said, 
 "  If  you  will  command  me,  I  will  silence 
 him.''  The  king  replied,  "  It  will  be  an 
 act  of  great  kindness."  The  philosopher 
 ordered  them  to  throw  the  lad  into  the 
 sea,  and,  after  several  plunges,  they  laid 
 Isold  of  the  hair  of  his  head,  and  dragging 
 him  towards  the  ship,  he  clung  to  the 
 rudder  with  both  his  hands.  When  he 
 got  out  of  the  water  he  sat  down  quietly 
 in  a  corner  of  the  vessel.  The  king  was 
 pleased,  and  asked  how  this  was  brought 
 about.  The  philosophef  replied,  "  At  first 
 he  had  never  experienced  the  danger  of 
 being  drowned ;  neither  knew  he  the  safety 
 of  a  ship."  In  like  manner  he  knoweth 
 the  value  of  prosperity  who  hath  encoun- 
 tered adversity.  0  thou  who  hast  satisfied 
 thine  hunger,  to  thee  a  biirley-loaf  is  be- 
 neath notice  :  that  seems  loveliness  to  me 
 which  in  thy  sight  appears  deformity.  To 
 the  nymphs  of  paradise  purgatory  would 
 be  hell;  but  ask  the  inhabitants  of  hell 
 whether  pui'gatory  is  not  paradise. 
 
 Knight. 
 PROSPERITY  AND  ADVERSITY. 
 
 The  virtue  of  prosperity  is  temperance; 
 the  virtue  of  adversity  is  fortitude.  Pros- 
 perity is  the  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament ; 
 adversity  is  the  blessing  of  the  New,  which 
 carrieth  the  greater  benediction  and  the 
 clearer  revelation  of  God's  favour.  Yet 
 even  in  the  Old  Testament,  if  you  listen 
 to  David's  harp,  you  shall  hear  as  many 
 hcarse-like  airs  as  carols  ;  and  the  pencil 
 of  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  laboured  more  in 
 
 describing  the  afflictions  of  Job  than  the 
 felicities  of  Solomon.  Prosperity  is  not 
 without  many  fears  and  distastes ;  and 
 adversity  is  not  without  comforts  and 
 hopes.  We  see  in  needleworks  and  em- 
 broideries it  is  more  pleasing  to  have  a 
 lively  work  upon  a  sad  and  solemn  ground 
 than  to  have  a  dark  and  melancholy  work 
 upon  a  lightsome  ground  ;  judge,  there- 
 fore, of  the  pleasure  of  the  heart  by  the 
 pleasure  of  the  eye.  Certainly  virtue  is 
 like  precious  odours,  most  fragrant  when 
 they  are  incensed  or  crushed  ;  for  proS' 
 perity  doth  best  discover  vice,  but  ad- 
 versity doth  best  discover  virtue. 
 
 Lord  Bacon. 
 
 PROTESTANT  CHURCH  IN  THE  CHURCH 
 OF  ROME  BEFORE  THE  REFORMATION. 
 The  visible  Protestant  Church  was  in  the 
 grasp  of  the  Romish  Church  ;  and  was  not 
 created,  but  only  emancipated  and  unlocked 
 from  that  grasp,  at  the  era  of  the  Reforma- 
 tion. 
 
 I  will  illustrate  this  by  an  anecdote,  re- 
 corded in  the  travels,  I  think,  of  Lord 
 Lindsay.  That  nobleman  states,  that  on 
 visiting  the  Pyramids  of  Egypt,  he  found 
 in  one  of  those  ancient  repositories  of  the 
 dead,  a  mummy,  which  indicated,  accord- 
 ing to  the  mode  of  interpreting  hiero- 
 glyphics adopted  by  Champollion  and  by 
 Young,  that  it  was  full  two  thousand  years 
 old.  On  opening  the  case,  and  unrolling 
 the  mummy,  he  found  in  its  right  hand  a 
 bulbous  or  rather  tuberous  root.  Lord 
 Lindsay  wondered  whether  vegetable  life 
 could  outlast  an  imprisonment  of  two 
 thousand  years,  and  in  order  to  put  the 
 problem  to  the  test,  he  opened  the  liand  of 
 the  mummy,  took  out  the  vegetable  root, 
 planted  it  in  a  fertile  and  favorable  soil, 
 and  exposed  it  to  the  sunshine  and  the 
 dews  of  heaven,  and  to  his  amazement  and 
 delight,  that  lately  dry  root  shot  up,  and 
 presented  a  stem,  unfolding  a  most  beau- 
 tiful dahlia.  Now,  I  say  the  Protestant 
 Church  before  the  Reformation  was  in  a 
 position  similar  to  that  of  the  dahlia  root  j 
 it  was  compressed  in  the  iron  grasp  of  the 
 most  deadly  despotism.  And  all  that 
 Calvin,  and  Luther,  and  Knox  did,  was  to 
 unlock  the  hand  that  held  it — to  take  out 
 the  concealed  epitome  of  heaven's  high 
 principles — to  plant  in  the  fatherland  of 
 Germany,  of  England,  of  Scotland,  and  of 
 Ireland— an<l  to  place  it  beneath  the  beams 
 of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  and  the  rain 
 drops  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  till  it  took  root 
 and  grew  up,  and  presented,  as  it  does 
 now,  wide-spreading  boughs  crowned  with 
 ten  thousand  blossoms,  destined  to  wave 
 with  immortal  fragrancy,  and  to  constitute 
 the  accumulating  glory  and  the  richest  and 
 holiest  ornaments  of  our  native  land. 
 
 JDr.  Ciiiiiming. 
 45 
 
706 
 
 PROVERBS— Definitions  of. 
 
 The  wisdom  of  many  and  the  wit  of  one. 
 
 Earl  Russell. 
 
 Jewels  five  words  long, 
 That   on   the   stretch'd   forefinger   of  all 
 
 Time 
 Sparkle  for  ever.  Tennyson. 
 
 PROVERBS— Persian. 
 
 The  following  are  a  few  of  the  Persian 
 proverbs : — -"  The  man  who  returns  good 
 for  evil  is  as  a  tree  which  renders  its  shade 
 and  its  fruit  even  to  those  who  cast  stones 
 at  it.  A  man  passes  for  a  sage  when  he 
 seeks  for  wisdom,  but  if  he  thinks  he  has 
 found  it  he  is  a  fool.  The  diamond  fallen 
 into  the  dunghill  is  not  the  less  precious, 
 and  the  dust  raised  by  high  winds  to 
 heaven  is  not  the  less  vile.  An  ass  which 
 bears  its  burden  is  of  more  worth  than  a 
 lion  which  devours  men.  Patience  is  a 
 tree  whose  roots  are  bitter,  but  the  frnit 
 is  very  sweet.  Ten  poor  men  can  sleep 
 tranquilly  upon  a  mat ;  hut  two  kings  are 
 not  able  to  live  at  peace  in  a  quarter  of  the 
 world."  John  Bate. 
 
 PROVERBS— a  Sign  of  "Wisdom. 
 
 The  Scripture  vouches  Solomon  for  the 
 wisest  of  men  ;  and  they  are  his  proverbs 
 that  prove  him  so.  The  seven  wise  men  of 
 Greece,  so  famous  for  their  wisdom  all  the 
 world  over,  acquired  all  that  fame  each  of 
 them  by  a  single  sentence,  consisting  of 
 two  or  three  words.  Dr.  South. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Adaptation  in. 
 
 Nothing  appears  to  me  more  remarkable 
 in  providence,  or  more  clearly  to  attest  the 
 being  and  attitudes  of  an  all-presiding  God, 
 thau  the  perfect  adaptation  of  creatures  to 
 the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed. 
 See  how  the  summer,  that  brings  back  the 
 swallows  to  our  door,  in  myriads  of  insects 
 produces  their  food;  how  those  creatures 
 that  burrow  in  the  soil  have  bodies  shaped 
 like  a  wedge,  and  fore-feet  so  formed  as  to 
 do  the  work  of  a  spade  ;  how  the  animals 
 that  inhabit  arctic  climates  are  wrapped 
 in  furs,  which  man,  for  the  sake  of  their 
 warmth,  is  glad  to  borrow,  and  to  which 
 God,  for  the  protection  of  their  lives,  has 
 given  the  colour  of  the  snowj  how  fur- 
 nished with  hollow  bones  and  downy 
 feathers,  birds  are  adapted  to  float  in  an 
 atmosphere  of  thin  transparent  air  ;  and 
 how  other  creatures  sh)w  of  motion,  and 
 unarmed  for  battle,  and  thus  helplessly 
 exposed  to  their  enemies,  carry  a  strong 
 castle  on  their  back — retiring  into  their 
 shell,  as  men  into  a  fortalice,  safe  from  all 
 attack.  Tlie  student  of  nat\ire  thus  recog- 
 nises, with  adoring  wonder,  the  harmony 
 
 PROVERBS— PROVIDENCE. 
 
 which  God  has  established  between  His 
 creatures  and  their  circumstances. 
 
 Br.  Ghtthrie. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Benevolence  of. 
 
 If  He  moulds  a  world  between  His  palms, 
 and  then  sends  it  wheeling  in  its  orbit,  it 
 is  between  those  palms  which  are  stamped 
 with  the  likeness  of  His  sons  and  daughters, 
 and  so  that  new  work  shall  minister  to 
 their  good.  If  He  divides  a  nation,  it  is 
 always  with  the  hand  that  bears  the  re- 
 meml)rance  of  Zion.  Scripture  itself  tells 
 us  this,  "  When  He  divided  the  nations. 
 He  set  the  bounds  of  the  people  according 
 to  the  number  of  the  children  of  Israel." 
 The  great  wheel  of  Providence,  when  God 
 makes  it  revolve,  works  for  the  good  of  the 
 people  whom  He  hath  called  according  to 
 His  purpose.  There  are  many  strings,  but 
 they  are  all  in  one  hand,  and  they  all  pull 
 one  way,  to  draw  a  weight  of  glory  to  the 
 chosen  :  there  are  many  wheels,  and  innu- 
 merable cogs,  and  as  you  and  I  look  about 
 us,  we  cannot  understand  the  machinery; 
 we  cry,  "0  wheels,  what  do  ye  work?" 
 but  the  end,  the  end,  if  you  stood  there 
 and  saw  the  end  of  everything,  you  would 
 see  that  God  has  stamped  all  the  wheels 
 with  the  memory  of  His  children,  so  that 
 the  result  is  always  good,  and  only  good 
 to  those  whom  He  has  engraven  on  the 
 palms  of  His  hands.  C.  IL.  Sturgeon, 
 
 PROVIDENCE— in  the  Church. 
 
 "  Man's  extremity,"  says  Augastine,  "  is 
 God's  opportunity."  While  Seeker  was  de- 
 ploring the  demoralisation  of  England,  and 
 threatening  to  "  become  absolutely  fatal," 
 and  the  aged  Burnet  saw  "  imminent  ruin 
 hanging  over  the  Church,"  and  "  over  the 
 whole  Reformation ;"  while  Watts  was 
 writing  that  "  religion  was  dying  in  the 
 world,"  and  Butler  that  "  it  had  come  to 
 be  taken  for  granted  that  Christianity  was 
 no  longer  a  subject  of  inquiry,  but  at 
 length  was  discovered  to  be  fictitious ;" 
 when,  in  fine,  the  Anglican  Church  had 
 become  "  an  ecclesiastical  system,  under 
 which  the  people  of  England  had  lapsed 
 into  heathenism,"  and  "  Nonconformity 
 was  rapidly  in  course  to  be  found  nowhere 
 but  in  books,"  and  meanwhile,  across  the 
 channel,rationalistic  infidelity  wasinvading 
 the  strongholds  of  the  Reformation,  and 
 the  French  philosophers  were  spreading 
 moral  contagion  through  Europe.  God  was 
 preparing  the  means,  apparently  discon- 
 nected, but  providentially  coincident,  which 
 were  to  resuscitate  the  "  dying"  faith,  and 
 introduce  the  era  of  modern  evangelism  iu 
 the  Protestant  woi-ld.  A  young  man  born 
 in  an  inn  at  Bristol,  and  struggling  for  his 
 education  as  a  servitor  at  Oxford,  was 
 seeking,  in  agouy  of  spirit,  for  a  purer 
 faith  than  he  could  find  aj-ouud  him,  and 
 
PROVIDENCE. 
 
 V07 
 
 as  he  tells  us,  "lying  prostrate  on  the 
 ground,  for  whole  days,  in  silent  or  vocal 
 prayer."  In  a  few  years  his  eloquence, 
 never,  perhaps,  surpassed  in  the  pulpit, 
 was  to  startle  and  illuminate  all  England, 
 and  the  American  colonies  from  Maine  to 
 Georgia.  From  the  mountains  of  Wales  a 
 youth  of  fortune  entered,  later,  the  same 
 university  as  a  gentleman  commoner;  he 
 was  to  become  the  foreign  administrator 
 of  Methodism,  its  first  bishop  in  America, 
 the  founder  of  its  missions  in  both  Indies, 
 and  of  that  whole  missionary  scheme  which, 
 in  our  day,  enrols  a  larger  number  of 
 converts  from  heathenism  than  all  other 
 Protestant  missions  combined.  From  the 
 mountains  of  Switzerland  came  into  Eng- 
 land, meanwhile,  a  young  man  who  was 
 to  become  the  champion  of  the  Arminian 
 theology  of  the  new  movement,  and  the 
 intimate  counsellor  of  its  leader,  and  whose 
 saintly  life  was  to  leave  it  with  a  greater 
 blessing  than  the  works  of  his  pen. 
 
 But  its  chief  agents  were  in  obscure 
 preparation  in  the  village  of  Epworth,  a 
 rural  community  of  Lincolnshire,  with  a 
 population,  at  the  time,  of  about  two 
 thousand  souls,  occupied  in  the  cultivation 
 and  manufacture  of  hemp  and  flax.  In 
 the  hiiusehold  of  the  Epworth  rectory  can 
 be  traced  its  real  origin,  and  one  of  those 
 pictures  of  p]nglish  rural  life  which  have 
 so  often  given  a  cliarm  to  our  literature, 
 and  which  form,  perhaps,  the  best  example 
 of  the  domestic  virtues  of  religion  tliat 
 Cliristian  civilization  lias  aflbrded.  An 
 "  elect  lady  "  there  trained  the  founder 
 and  legislator  of  Methodism,  and  to  no 
 inconsiderable  degree,  by  impressing  on 
 him  the  traits  of  her  own  extraordinary 
 character ;  and,  under  the  same  nurture, 
 grew  up  by  his  side  its  psalmist,  whose 
 lyrics  were  to  be  heard,  in  less  than  a 
 century,  wherever  the  English  language 
 was  spoken,  and  to  be  "  more  devoutly 
 committed  to  memory,"  says  Southey,  and 
 "  oftener  repeated  upon  a  death-bed,"  than 
 any  other  poems.  Dr.  Sievens. 
 
 PHOVIDENCE— towards  the  Church. 
 
 It  is  not  the  nations  but  the  Church, 
 that  God  has  cherished  as  the  apple  of  His 
 eye.  The  three  great  nationalities,  Jewish, 
 Greek,  and  Roman,  that  stood  together 
 over  the  cradle  of  our  religion,  perished 
 not  till  they  had  ceased  to  be  of  service  to 
 Christ.  Charlemagne,  Chiirles  V, Cromwell, 
 and  Napoleon  were  all  soldiers  of  the 
 Church,  whether  couscious  of  it  or  not— 
 whether  willingly  or  not.  So  now  Fiance 
 will  be  humbled,  or  England,  or  Germany, 
 or  Russia,  or  Turkey ;  one  or  more,  or  all 
 of  thera  together,  just  as  may  be  required 
 in  order  to  the  progress  of  Christian  truth. 
 Christ,  we  may  well  believe,  cares  more 
 for    His    little    baad  of   missionaries    in 
 
 Turkey,  than  for  the  pride  of  imperial 
 courts,  or  all  the  commerce  of  the  Euxine. 
 Here  we  find  a  key  of  the  history  of  other 
 ages  and  nations ;  a  thread  that  will  lead 
 us  out  of  every  labyrinth  of  the  present 
 and  the  future.  Towards  Calvary,  for 
 thousands  of  years,  all  the  lines  of  history 
 converged.  And  now  for  other  thousands 
 of  years,  to  the  end  of  time,  from  Calvary 
 will  the  lines  diverge,  till  "  the  kingdoms 
 of  this  world  have  become  the  kingdoms 
 of  our  Lord,  and  He  shall  reign  for  ever 
 and  ever."  Dr.  Mitchcoc/c. 
 
 PROVIDENCE-as  Clouds. 
 
 1.  Clouds  are  many ;  so  are  the  ways  of 
 God's  Providence. 
 
 2.  Clouds  are  said  to  be  round  about  the 
 Almighty,  and  yet  He  dwelleth  in  the 
 light.  God's  Providences  sometimes  hide 
 Him  from  us,  and  yet  He  works  in  wisdom 
 and  goodness. 
 
 3.  Clouds  are  of  different  size,  colour, 
 kinds  ;  some  as  it  were  transparent,  others 
 opaque,  others  white,  &c.;  so  the  Providence 
 of  God  varies  in  its  appearances,  operations, 
 designs  and  effects. 
 
 4.  Clouds  sometimes  make  the  day  dark, 
 so  Providence  hides  the  light  from  the  soul. 
 
 5.  Clouds  are  at  God's  command,  so  is 
 Providence. 
 
 6.  Clouds  are  beneficial,  so  is  Providence 
 in  its  various  dispensations.  Keach. 
 
 PROVIDEIfCE— in  Creation. 
 
 Many  sorts  of  rare  engines  we  acknow- 
 ledge contrived  by  the  wit  of  man,  but  who 
 hath  ever  made  one  that  could  grow  ?  or 
 that  had  in  it  a  self-improving  power?  A 
 tree,  a  herb,  a  pile  of  grass,  may  upon  this 
 account  challenge  all  the  world  to  make 
 such  a  thing  ;  that  is  to  implant  the  power 
 of  growing  into  anything  to  which  it 
 dotb  not  natively  belong,  or  to  make  a 
 thing  to  which  it  doth.  By  what 
 art  would  they  make  a  seed  ?  and 
 which  way  would  they  inspire  it  with  a 
 seminal  form  ?  And  they  that  think  this 
 globe  of  the  earth  was  compacted  by  the 
 casual,  or  fatal  coalition  of  particles  of 
 matter,  by  what  magic  would  they  con- 
 jure so  many  to  come  together  as  should 
 make  a  clod  ?  You  with  whom  the  daily 
 productions  of  nature  (as  you  call  it)  are 
 so  cheap,  see  if  you  can  do  the  like.  Try 
 your  skill  upon  a  rose.  Yea,  but  you  must 
 have  pre-existent  matter.  But  can  you 
 ever  prove  that  the  Maker  of  the  world  had 
 so  ?  or  even  defend  the  possibility  of  un- 
 created matter?  And  suppose  they  had 
 the  free  agent  of  all  the  matter  between 
 the  crown  oi'  the  head  and  the  moon,  could 
 they  tell  what  to  do  with  it  ?  or  how  to 
 manige  so  as  to  make  it  yield  thera  one 
 single  flower  that  they  might  glory  in  their 
 own  production  ?  John  Howe, 
 
708  PEOVIDEITCE. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Definition  of. 
 
 By  the  Providence  of  God,  generally 
 speaking,  is  meant  His  care  for  every  ob- 
 ject of  nature ;  so  that  His  power  is  unin- 
 terruptedly exercised  in  upholding,  con- 
 trolling, and  directing  every  person  and 
 every  thing,  rendering  all  subservient  to 
 His  glory,  and  the  accomplishment  of  His 
 wise,  holy,  gracious,  merciful,  and  righteous 
 purposes.  As  He  is  everywhere  present 
 in  all  the  perfection  of  His  nature,  nothing 
 escapes  the  observation  of  His  eye,  and 
 nothing  takes  place  but  by  His  agency. 
 His  appointment,  or  His  permission;  for 
 every  creature  is  at  His  disposal.  Inor- 
 ganic matter  is  sustained  in  being  by  His 
 power ;  the  earth  and  the  heavenly  bodies 
 perform  their  revolutions  under  His  direc- 
 tion ;  in  vegetable  nature  His  hand  is  in 
 constant  operation ;  by  His  bounty  the 
 wants  of  the  entire  animal  creation  are 
 daily  supplied ;  and  mankind,  created  in 
 His  image,  endued  with  understanding, 
 End  therefore  under  His  moral  government 
 are  the  objects  of  His  special  regard,  having 
 the  greatest  share  in  His  paternal  love. 
 
 T.  Jackson. 
 PEOVIDENCE— in  Extremities. 
 
 We  find  a  multitude  of  Providences  so 
 timed  to  a  minute,  that,  had  they  fallen 
 out  ever  so  little  sooner  or  later,  they  had 
 signified  but  little  in  comparison  of  what 
 they  now  do.  Certainly,  it  cannot  be 
 casualty,  but  counsel,  that  so  exactly  nicks 
 the  opportunity.  Contingencies  keep  no 
 rules. 
 
 How  remarkable  to  this  purpose  was 
 the  tidings  brought  to  Saul,  that  the 
 Philistines  had  invaded  the  land,  just  as 
 he  was  ready  to  grasp  the  prey  (1  Sam. 
 xxiii,  27).  The  angel  calls  to  Abraham, 
 and  shows  him  another  sacrifice,  just  when 
 his  hand  was  giving  the  fatal  stroke  to 
 Isaac  (Gen.  xxii,  10,  11).  A  well  of  water 
 is  discovered  to  Hagar  just  when  she  had 
 left  the  child  as  not  able  to  see  its  death 
 (Gen.  xxi,  16—19).  Rabshakeh  meets 
 ■with  a  blasting  providence,  hears  a  rumour 
 that  frustrated  his  design,  just  when  ready 
 to  give  the  shock  against  .Jerusalem 
 (Isaiah  xxxvii,  7,  8).  So  when  Haman's 
 plot  against  the  Jews  was  ripe,  and  all 
 things  ready  for  execution,  "  On  that 
 night  could  not  the  king  sleep  "  (Esther 
 vi,  1).  When  the  horns  are  ready  to  gore 
 Judah,  immediately  carpenters  are  pre- 
 pared to  fray  them  away  (Zech.  i,  18 — 21). 
 How  remarkable  was  the  relief  of  Rochelle, 
 by  a  shoal  of  fish  that  came  into  the 
 harbour  when  they  were  ready  to  perish 
 with  hunger,  such  as  they  never  observed 
 either  before  or  after  that  time.  Mr. 
 Dodd  could  not  go  to  bed  one  night,  but 
 feels  a  strong  impulse  to  visit  (though  un- 
 aably)    a    neighbouring    gentleman, 
 
 and  just  as  he  came  he' meets  him  at  his 
 door,  with  a  halter  in  his  pocket,  just 
 going  to  hang  himself.  Dr.  Tate  and  his 
 wife,  in  the  Irish  rebellion,  flying  through 
 the  woods  with  a  sucking  child,  which 
 was  just  ready  to  expire,  the  mother, 
 going  to  rest  it  upon  a  rock,  puts  her  hand 
 upon  a  bottle  of  warm  milk,  by  which  it 
 was  preserved.  A  good  woman,  from 
 whose  mouth  I  received  it,  being  driven 
 to  a  great  extremity,  all  supplies  failing, 
 was  exceedingly  plunged  into  imbelieving 
 doubts  and  fears,  not  seeing  whence  sup- 
 plies should  come ;  when  lo !  in  the  nick 
 of  time,  turning  some  things  in  a  chest, 
 she  unexpectedly  lights  upon  a  piece  of 
 gold,  which  supplied  her  present  wants, 
 till  God  opened  another  door  of  supply. 
 If  these  things  fall  out  casually,  how  is  it 
 that  they  observe  the  very  juncture  of 
 time  so  exactly  ?  This  is  become  pro- 
 verbial in  Scripture.  "In  the  mount  of 
 the  Lord  it  shall  be  seen"  (Gen.  xxii,  14). 
 Flavel. 
 
 PROVIDENCE  (General)— Definition  of. 
 
 General  Providence  is  the  general  pro- 
 vision made  in  the  properties  and  laws  of 
 both  matter  and  mind,  for  the  accomplish- 
 ment of  His  designs.  It  regards  both  mat- 
 ter and  mind  ;  not  only  as  real  existences, 
 but  as  possessing  inherent  properties  and 
 laws,  which,  however,  are  not  self-existent 
 and  self-sufficient, butrequire  the  upholding 
 or  sustaining  power  of  God.  Finney. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— in  a  Honey-Comh. 
 
 Over  the  honey-comb,  in  which  a  vulgar 
 taste,  in  common  with  the  bear,  finds  only 
 the  means  to  gratify  its  appetite,  the  phi- 
 losopher may  bend  with  admiration  and 
 amaze.  He  can  have  little  reflection  who 
 has  not  marked  the  beauty  and  delicacy 
 of  those  cells,  which,  though  built  in  the 
 darkness  of  the  hive,  and  the  work  of  a 
 humble  insect,  man,  with  his  reason  and 
 the  aids  of  art,  attempts  in  vain  to  imitate. 
 Yet  there  is  here  something  more  won- 
 derful than  beauty.  Examine  them  closely, 
 see  how  each  has  the  same  number  of  sides 
 with  its  fellow,  and  is  its  exact  counter- 
 part. In  that  a  child  could  discern  plain 
 evidence  of  design;  but  there  is  a  depth 
 of  wisdom  there  which  only  science  can 
 fathom.  Repair  to  the  study  of  Newton, 
 of  one  who  is  tracking  that  wandering 
 comet  on  its  tiery  path  into  the  far  realms 
 of  space,  or  weighing,  not  the  Alps  or 
 Andes,  but  worlds  in  the  scales  of  science, 
 and  ask  him — for  no  man  else  can  solve 
 the  question,  simple  as  it  seems — to  find 
 out  for  you  the  form  of  the  vessel  which 
 combines  with  the  greatest  strength  the 
 largest  capacity  ?  Having  wrought  out 
 this  problem  by  a  long  series  of  abstruse 
 calculations,  he  presents  the  result.     How 
 
PSOVIDEKCE. 
 
 709 
 
 wonderful !     Tou  find  sucTi  a  vessel  in  the 
 Cfill  of  a  bee-liive  !  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Inexplieable. 
 
 The  events  of  Providence  appear  to  us 
 very  much  like  the  letters  thrown  into  a 
 post-bag,  and  then  sent  forth  on  its  desti- 
 nation.    The  person  who  carries  it — 
 
 Messenger  of  joy 
 Perhaps  to  thousands,  and  of  grief  to  some: 
 To  him  iudili'erent  whether  grief  or  joy. 
 
 Onward  he  moves,  quite  unconcerned  as 
 to  the  nature  of  the  communications  he 
 bears,  or  the  effects  produced  by  them. 
 And  when  we  look  into  that  repository  it 
 may  seem  as  if  its  contents  were  in  inex- 
 tricable confusion,  and  we  wonder  how 
 the  letters,  parcels,  documents,  money  and 
 periodicals  should  ever  reach  their  indi- 
 vidual destination.  But  when  every  letter 
 has  its  special  address  inscribed  upon  it — 
 it  has  the  name  and  residence  of  the  party, 
 and  so  it  shall  in  due  time  fall  into  his 
 hands,  and  bring  its  proper  intelligence. 
 And  what  different  purposes  do  these  let- 
 ters fulfil !  what  varied  emotions  do  they 
 excite !  This  declares  that  friends  are  in 
 health  and  prospering,  this  other  is  the 
 bearer  of  the  news  of  wealth,  or  of  wealth 
 itself,  this  third  tells  us  of  some  crushing 
 disappointment,  and  quenches  long  cher- 
 ished hopes  by  the  tidings  of  the  utter 
 failure  of  deep-planned  schemes — while 
 the  fourth,  with  sable  symbols,  announces 
 to  the  wife  that  she  is  a  widow,  or  to  the 
 parent  that  she  is  childless,  or  to  the  child 
 fondly  cherished  by  the  mother,  that  he  is 
 an  orphan.  Each  has  its  intelligence,  and 
 conveys  it  to  the  party  intended  regardless 
 of  the  emotions  that  are  excited. 
 
 It  is  a  kind  of  picture  of  the  movements 
 of  Providence.  What  a  crowd  of  events 
 huddled  together,  and  apparently  confused, 
 does  it  carry  along  with  it.  Very  divers 
 are  the  objects  bound  up  in  that  bundle, 
 and  very  varied  are  the  emotions  which 
 they  are  to  excite  when  opened  up,  and 
 yet  how  coolly  and  systematically  does  the 
 vehicle  proceed  on  its  way.  Neither  the 
 joy  nor  the  sorrow  which  it  produces 
 causes  it  to  linger  an  instant  in  its  course. 
 But  meanwhile  every  occurrence  or  bundle 
 of  occurrences  is  let  out  at  its  projjer  place. 
 Each  has  a  name  inscribed  upon  it,  and 
 each  has  a  place  to  which  it  is  addressed. 
 Each,  too,  has  a  message  to  carry,  and  a 
 purpose  to  fulfil.  Some  of  these  inspire 
 hope  or  joy,  and  others  raise  fear  and  sor- 
 row. The  events  which  are  unfolded  by 
 the  same  course  of  things,  and  which  fall 
 out  the  same  day,  bring  gladness  to  one, 
 and  land  another  in  deepest  distress.  On 
 the  occurrence  of  the  same  event  you  per- 
 ceive one  weeping  and  another  rejoicing. 
 Some  of  the  dispensations  are  observed  to 
 
 propagate  prosperity  through  a  whole  com- 
 mmiity.  And  these  others  so  black  and 
 dismal,  and  of  which  so  many  arrive  at  the 
 same  time,  carry,  as  they  are  scattered, 
 gloom  into  the  abodes  of  thousands.  But 
 amid  all  this  seeming  confusion,  every  sepa- 
 rate event  has  its  separate  destination.  If 
 pestilence  has  only  some  one  person  devoted 
 to  it  in  a  city  or  community,  that  person 
 it  will  assuredly  find  out,  and  execute  the 
 judgment  of  heaven  regarding  him.  If 
 there  be  a  thousand  persons  allotted  to  it 
 in  a  district,  it  will  not  allow  one  of  the 
 thousand  to  escape.  If  among  the  num- 
 bers who  are  dying  there  be  one  regarding 
 whom  it  has  no  commission  to  serve  upon 
 him,  that  individual  must  remain  un- 
 touched. "A  thousand  shall  fall  at  thy 
 side,  and  ten  thousand  at  thy  right  hand, 
 but  it  shall  not  come  nigh  thee."  It  has 
 a  commission,  and  it  will  execute  it;  but 
 then  it  cannot  go  beyond  its  commission. 
 And  in  regard  to  every  person  to  whom  the 
 event  comes,  it  has  a  special  end  to  accom- 
 plish ;  and  it  bears  a  special  message,  if  he 
 will  but  read  it  and  attend  to  it. 
 
 Carrying  out  this  principle  fully,  the  re- 
 flecting, not  to  speak  of  the  devout  mind, 
 has  ever  found  much  instruction  in  watch- 
 ing the  dispensations  of  Divine  Providence. 
 Dr.  M'Cosh. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Interposition  of. 
 
 One  week-evening  I  was  in  a  dilemma 
 not  unfrequently  known  by  preachers ; 
 that  is,  I  could  not  find  a  text  that  would 
 bite.  The  last  hour  had  arrived,  and  I 
 turned  over  my  Bible  with  solicitude.  At 
 last  1  Cor.  X,  13  struck  with  force  upon 
 my  mind  : — "  There  hath  no  temptation 
 taken  you,  but  swch  as  is  common  to  man  : 
 but  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  sutler 
 you  to  be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able ; 
 but  will  with  the  temptation  also  make  a 
 way  to  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear 
 it."  It  opened  to  my  mind  like  a  dissected 
 map.  I  had  much  enlargement  and  com- 
 fort in  preaching;  and,  finding  that  I 
 should  exceed  the  prudent  limits  of  a  week- 
 evening  service  if  I  finished  then,  I  broke 
 off,  and  promised  to  take  up  the  subject 
 again  that  night  three  weeks.  But  then 
 I  found  it  iuipossible  to  draw  the  people 
 from   home,  as    another   min'ster   w-as   to 
 
 occupy  the  pulpit  of  B chapel  on  the 
 
 following  evening.  Six  weeks  thus  elapsed 
 before  I  could  fulfil  my  promise.  While 
 we  were  on  that  occasion  singing  the 
 second  hymn,  I  saw  under  the  gallery  a 
 man  from  a  neighbouring  village,  whose 
 circumstances  of  domestic  "  temptation  " 
 I  knew  well ;  and,  lifting  up  my  heart  to 
 God,  while  wondering  what  had  brought 
 him  there,  I  said,  "May  you  get  a  blessing!" 
 The  next  morning,  while  preparing  to 
 attend  a  committee  on  some  town's  husi- 
 
710 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 ness,  I  received  a  call  from  him — as  I  sup- 
 posed, for  counsel  and  comfort.  After 
 some  ordinary  conversation,  however,  he 
 said,  "  I  see  you  are  going  out  ;  but  you 
 must  not  go  until  I  have  told  you  some- 
 thing.    Last  night  I  left  my  home  with 
 
 no   purpose  of    attending   B Chapel, 
 
 but  with  a  very  different  purpose.  Yet  I 
 was  constrained  to  come,  as  if  pushed  or 
 carried.  My  mind  was  in  dreadful  distress 
 and  agitation,  and  you  know  my  ease ; 
 but  when  you  showed  how  God  could 
 make  a  way  of  escape  from  our  trials,  light 
 dawned.  I  felt  deliverance  sure.  When 
 I  came  out  of  the  chapel,  I  took  the  bottle 
 of  poison  which  I  had  obtained,  first  to 
 poison  my  wife,  and  then  to  poison  myself, 
 and  I  dashed  it  against  the  chapel  wall. 
 My  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the 
 snare  of  the  fowler." 
 
 The  poor  man  called  upon  me  again 
 before  I  left  the  town,  to  repeat  minutely 
 all  the  circumstances,  that  I  might  have 
 no  doubt  about  the  facts,  but  retain  the 
 full  recollection  of  them,  to  the  glory  of 
 his  great  Deliverer. 
 
 The  ordering  of  the  time,  and  of  the 
 links  of  circumstance,  from  the  hour  of  my 
 perplexity  to  the  foreseen  events  of  that 
 evening  six  weeks  after  when  I  finished 
 the  discourse,  so  opportune  to  the  poor 
 man's  exigency,  marks  and  illustrates  the 
 Providence  of  God  in  a  way  that  ought  to 
 convince  the  gainsayer,  put  to  silence  the 
 ignorance  of  foolish  men,  and  confirm  the 
 faith  of  God's  people  in  His  faithfulness. 
 And  this  record  is  to  the  glory  of  that 
 faithfulness.  West. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Interpositions  of. 
 
 1.  Abraham's  knife  lifted  up — the  angel 
 appears. 
 
 2.  Lot  near  destruction — angels  inter- 
 pose. 
 
 3.  Hagar  and  her  son  dying — the  angel 
 discovers  water. 
 
 4.  Jacob  in  trouble  wrestles  with  the 
 angel — Esau  meets  and  kisses  him. 
 
 5.  Moses  on  the  brink  of  the  sea — the 
 waters  divide. 
 
 6.  Saul's  sword  at  David's  heart — the 
 Philistines  invade  the  land. 
 
 7.  Eabshakeh  insults  God — his  army 
 destroyed  in  twelve  hours. 
 
 8.  Haman  forms  a  plot — the  king  cannot 
 sleep,  lots  are  cast  for  a  lucky  day,  the 
 day  thrown  twelve  months  off. 
 
 9.  Paul  on  the  brink  of  death  by  murder 
 — God  tuins  the  governor's  heart  to  travel 
 forty  miles. 
 
 10.  Peter  on  the  margin  of  ruin — an 
 angels  bursts  his  prison.    JDr.  J.  Campbell. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Justice  of. 
 Just  are  the  ways  of  God, 
 And  justifiable  to  men  j 
 
 Unless  there  be  who  think  net  God  at  all. 
 
 If  any  be,  they  walk  obscure; 
 
 For  of  such  doctrine  never  was  there  school. 
 
 But  the  heart  of  the  fool, 
 
 And  no  man  therein  God  but  himself. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— a  Music-book. 
 
 The  whole  course  and  series  of  Divine 
 Providence  towards  the  saints  is  like  a 
 music-book,  in  every  leaf  whereof  there  is 
 a  song  ready  pricked  for  them,  to  learn 
 and  sing  to  the  praise  of  their  God;  no 
 passage  of  their  life  of  which  they  can  say, 
 "  In  this  I  received  no  mercy  for  which  I 
 should  bless  God."  Gurnall. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Mystery  of. 
 
 In  this  W'orld  we  are  children  standing 
 on  the  bank  of  a  mighty  river.  Casting 
 our  eyes  upward  and  downward,  along  the 
 channel,  we  discern  various  windings  of  its 
 current ;  and  perceive  that  it  is  now  visible, 
 now  obscure,  and  now  entirely  hidden  from 
 our  view.  But  being  far  removed  from  the 
 fountain  whence  it  springs,  and  from  the 
 ocean  into  which  it  is  emptied,  we  are  un- 
 able to  form  any  conceptions  of  the  beauty, 
 usefulness,  or  grandeur  of  its  progress. 
 Lost  in  perplexity  and  ignorance,  we  gaze, 
 wonder,  and  despond.  In  this  situation,  a 
 messenger  from  heaven  comes  to  our  relief^ 
 with  authentic  information  of  its  nature, 
 its  course,  and  its  end;  conducts  us  back- 
 ward to  the  fountain,  and  leads  us  tor- 
 ward  to  the  ocean.  This  river  is  the  earthly 
 system  of  providence  :  the  Bible  is  the  ce- 
 lestial messenger :  and  Heaven  is  the  ocean 
 in  which  all  preceding  dispensations  find 
 their  end.  Dwight. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— in  Nutrition, 
 
 What  mortal  man  that  hath  reason  enough 
 about  him  to  be  serious  and  to  think  awhile, 
 would  not  even  be  amazed  at  the  miracle 
 of  nutrition  ?  or  that  there  are  things  in 
 the  world  capable  of  nourishment ;  or  who 
 would  attempt  an  imitation  here  ?  or  not 
 despair  to  make  anything  like  it,  that  is, 
 to  make  any  nourishable  thing  ?  Are  we 
 not  here  infinitely  outdone  ?  Do  we  not 
 see  ourselves  compassed  about  with  won- 
 ders, and  are  we  not  ourselves  such,  in 
 that  we  see,  and  are,  creatures  from  all 
 whose  parts  there  is  a  continual  defluxion, 
 and  yet  that  receive  a  constant  gradual 
 supply  and  renovation,  by  which  they  are 
 continued  in  the  same  state;  as  the  bush 
 burning,  but  not  consumed  ?  It  is  easy  to 
 give  an  artificial  frame  to  a  thing  that 
 shall  gradually  decay  and  waste,  till  it 
 quite  be  gone  and  disappear.  You  can 
 raise  a  structure  of  snow,  that  would  soon 
 do  that.  But  can  your  manual  skill  com- 
 pose  a  thing  that  like  our  bodies  shall  be 
 continually  melting  away  and  be  continu- 
 
PROVIDENCE. 
 
 711 
 
 ally  repaired,  through  so  long  a  tract  of 
 time  ?  John  Hoive. 
 
 PEOVIDENCE  (Particular)— Definition  of. 
 Particular  Providence  is  that  Divine  in- 
 terference and  control  which  is  required 
 by  the  exigencies  of  moral  government. 
 This  theory  maintains  that  God  is  directly 
 or  indirectly,  actively  or  permissively,  con- 
 cerned in  evei-y  event,  Finney. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Retributions  of. 
 
 How  clear  it  is  to  every  man's  observa- 
 tion, that  the  kindness  and  benefits  that 
 any  persons  have  done  to  the  Lord's  people 
 have  been  rewarded  in  full  measure !  The 
 Egyptian  midwives  refused  to  obey  Pha- 
 raoh's inhuman  command,  and  saved  the 
 male  children  of  Israel.  For  this  the  Lord 
 dealt  well  with  them,  and  built  tliem 
 houses  (Exod.  i,  21).  The  Shunammite 
 was  hospitable  and  kind  to  Elisha;  and 
 God  blessed  her  with  a  son  (2  Kings  iv, 
 9,  17).  Eahab  hid  the  spies;  and  was  ex- 
 empted from  the  common  destruction 
 (Heb.  xi,  31).  Publius,  the  chief  man  in 
 the  island  of  Melita  "courteously"  re- 
 ceived and  lodged  St.  Paul  after  his  ship- 
 wre(;k ;  and  the  Lord  speedily  repaid  him 
 for  that  kindness  by  healing  his  father, 
 who  lay  sick  of  a  bloody  flux  and  fever 
 (Acts  xxviii,  7,  8). 
 
 In  like  manner,  we  find  that  evils  which 
 have  been  done  to  the  people  of  God  have 
 been  repaid  by  a  just  retribution.  Pharaoh 
 and  the  Egyptians  were  cruel  enemies  to 
 God's  Israel,  and  dei^igned  the  ruin  of 
 their  innocent  children ;  and  God  smote 
 all  the  first-born  of  Egypt  in  one  night 
 (Exod.  xii,  29). 
 
 Haman,  erected  a  gallows,  fifty  cubits 
 high,  for  the  execution  of  Mordecai ;  and  God 
 so  ordered  it,  that  himself  and  his  ten  sons 
 hanged  on  it  (Esther,  vii,  10 ;  ix,  13). 
 
 Ahithopel  plots  against  David,  and  gives 
 counsel,  like  an  oracle,  how  to  procure 
 his  fall;  and  that  very  counsel,  like  a 
 loaded  gun,  recoils  upon  himself,  and  pro- 
 cures his  ruin ;  for,  seeing  his  counsel 
 rejected,  it  was  easy  for  him  to  guess  at 
 the  issue,  and  so  at  his  own  fate  (2  Sam. 
 xvii,  17,  23). 
 
 Charles  the  Ninth  made  Paris  to  stream 
 with  Protestant  blood;  and  soon  after  he 
 died  miserably,  blood  streaming  from  his 
 own  body. 
 
 Stephen  Gardiner,  who  burned  so  many 
 of  God's  servants  alive  in  England,  ended 
 his  wretched  life  in  great  torments. 
 
 Maximus,  the  Roman  Emperor,  who 
 i:-sued  a  proclamation  engraved  on  brass, 
 for  the  extermination  of  the  Christian 
 religion,  was  speedily  smitten,  like  Herod, 
 with  a  dreadful  judgment,  so  that  his  phy- 
 sicians could  not  endure  to  come  near  him. 
 
 Hundreds   of   similar  instances    might 
 
 easily  be  produced;  all  of  which  in  effect 
 declare, "  Verily  there  is  a  God  that  judgeth 
 in  the  earth." 
 
 Yea,  so  exact  have  been  the  retributions 
 of  Providence  to  the  enemies  of  the  church, 
 that  not  only  the  same  persons,  but  the 
 same  members  that  have  been  the  instru- 
 ment* of  mischief,  have  been  made  the 
 subjects  of  wrath. 
 
 Tlie  same  arm  that  Jeroboam  stretched 
 out  to  smite  the  Prophet,  God  smites  in 
 return. 
 
 Henry  the  Second,  of  France,  in  a  great 
 rage  against  a  Protestant  counsellor,  com- 
 mitted him  into  the  hands  of  one  of  his 
 nobles  to  be  imprisoned,  saying,  that  he 
 would  see  him  burned  with  his  own  eyes. 
 But  mark  the  righteous  Providence  of  God. 
 Within  a  few  days,  the  same  nobleman, 
 with  a  lance  put  into  his  hands  by  the 
 king,  did,  at  a  tilting  matcli,  run  tlie  said 
 lance  into  one  of  the  kings  eyes,  whereof 
 he  died. 
 
 Yea,  Providence  hath  made  the  very 
 place  of  sinning  the  place  of  punishment 
 (1  Kings  xxi,  19),  "  In  tlie  place  where 
 dogs  licked  the  blood  of  Naboth,  shall  dogs 
 lick  thy  blood ;"  and  the  threatening  was 
 exactly  fulfilled  (2  Kings  ix,  26).  Thus 
 the  Scriptures  are  made  good  by  the  Pro- 
 vidence of  God.  "  Whoso  diggeth  a  pit, 
 shall  fall  therein ;  and  he  that  roUeth  a 
 stone,  it  will  return  upon  him"  (Prov. 
 xxvi,  27).  "  With  what  measure  ye  mete,  it 
 shall  be  measured  to  you  again"  (Matt,  vii, 2). 
 
 If  any  objector  say,  "These  things  may 
 fall  out  casually;  for  many  thousands  of 
 the  Church's  enemies  have  died  in  peace, 
 and  their  end  was  like  that  of  other  men ;" 
 St.  Augustine  has  supplied  the  answer : 
 "  If  no  sin  were  punished  here,  no  Provi- 
 dence would  be  believed;  and  if  every  sin 
 were  punished  here,  no  general  judgment 
 could  be  expected."  Anon. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Retributive. 
 
 When  Napoleon  Bonaparte  had  arrived 
 at  the  dignity  of  Emperor  of  tlie  French, 
 considering  himself  the  founder  of  a  dy- 
 nasty, it  became  a  matter  of  importance  to 
 decide  how  and  by  whom  it  was  to  be  per- 
 petuated. "  He  had  himself  no  offspring, 
 and  therefore  must  choose  a  collateral  heir. 
 In  the  first  place,  the  imperial  crown  was 
 settled  on  Napoleon  Bonaparte  and  his 
 direct  issue  in  the  male  line,  with  the 
 power  of  adoption  under  certain  restric- 
 tions ;  secondly,  on  Joseph  Bonaparte,  and 
 the  heirs  male  of  his  body  ;  and  thirdly,  on 
 Louis  Bonaparte,  and  the  heirs  male  of  his 
 body."  Had  this  arrangement  remained 
 undisturbed,  the  domestic  happiness  of 
 Napoleon  would  apparently  have  remained 
 uninjured,  and  the  whole  of  his  subsequent 
 career  been  totally  dill'erent  from  what  it 
 was.    But  in  an  evil  hour,  listening  to  the 
 
712 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 suggestion  of  an  overweenins:  egotism — 
 which  appears  in  too  nv.in}-  of  his  acts — he 
 resolved  to  divorce  his  lovely  and  noble- 
 minded  consort,  the  accomplished  and  fas- 
 cinating Josephine ;  and  this  for  the  sole 
 and  avowed  object  of  having  an  heir  to  the 
 throne  who  should  be  directly  descended 
 from  himself.  The  retribution  for  this  act 
 of  heartless  injustice  to  Josephine  was 
 signal.  The  alliance  into  which  it  led  him 
 with  Austria  made  him  place  dependence 
 on  that  power  in  an  hour  of  great  emer- 
 gency, only  to  be  betrayed  and  ruined  by 
 its  desertion  of  his  felling  fortunes.  The 
 lieir,  so  fondly  hoped  for,  was  denation- 
 alised by  an  Austrian  education,  and  died 
 in  early  life ;  and  the  wife  for  whom  Jose- 
 phine was  deserted  disgraced  her  imperial 
 marriage  by  the  most  shameless  licentious- 
 ness. But  the  most  singular  part  of  the 
 whole  aifair,  and  that  which  seems  to 
 render  the  retribution  as  complete  as  it  is 
 m^nal,  is,  that  the  original  line  of  succes- 
 sion indicated  by  Napoleon  while  under 
 the  influence  of  his  well-merited  regard 
 for  Josephine,  is  now  literally  and  exactly 
 carried  out.  The  present  Emperor  of  the 
 French  (Louis  Napoleon)  is  the  son  of 
 Louis  Bonaparte  and  Josephine's  daughter 
 Hortense — thus,  the  grandson  of  Josephine. 
 It  would  seem  that  the  will  of  Providence 
 has  punished  the  injustice  of  Napoleon,  by 
 taking  the  succession  to  the  throne  of 
 France  from  the  heir  of  the  proud  and  un- 
 just emperor,  and  giving  it  to  the  heir  of 
 tihe  wronged  and  repudiated  empress. 
 
 Professor  J.  Frost. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— in  a  Snowdrop. 
 
 Let  me  show  you  Providence  in  a  snow- 
 drop— a  flower  we  all  know  and  love,  and 
 hail  as  the  fair  hai-binger  of  spring.  And 
 in  this  I  follow  the  example  of  him  who 
 extracted  from  flowers,  truths  more  beau- 
 tiful than  their  colours,  more  precious  than 
 their  most  fragant  odours.  All  the  plants 
 that  clothe  and  adorn  the  earth  with  such 
 varied  beauty,  and  combining,  as  is  God's 
 way,  utility  with  beauty,  supply  food  to 
 the  animal  creation,  depend  for  their  con- 
 tinued existence  on  their  flowers  turning 
 into  fruit.  Now,  the  fructification  of  the 
 snow-drop  depends,  if  I  may  say  so,  on  the 
 modesty,  in  it  as  elsewhere  the  usual  asso- 
 ciate of  purity,  with  which,  shrinking 
 from  its  own  boldness,  it  hangs  its  beau- 
 tiful head.  Let  it  lift  its  head  up  with  the 
 pride  of  a  lily,  and  this  herald  of  spring 
 perishes  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  like 
 the  race  of  a  childless  man.  Rut  God  has 
 provided  against  such  an  event.  Won- 
 derful and  instructive,  as  teaching  us  how 
 the  greatest  and  smallest  things  in  provi- 
 dence have  often  mutual  and  important 
 connections ;  this  vast  globe,  and  that  little 
 flower,  in  regard  to  their  weight,  have  been 
 
 calculated  the  one  so  to  suit  the  other,  that 
 its  bells  are  and  must  be  pendent.  Drawn 
 downwards  by  the  force  of  gravity,  they 
 assume  a  position  without  which  they  had 
 produced  no  fruit,  yet  one  which  they  had 
 not  assumed,  liad  our  planet  been  no 
 larger  than  Mars  or  Mercury.  See,  then, 
 how  God  takes  care  of  a  humble  flower! 
 how  much  more  of  you  and  your  families, 
 0  ye  of  little  faith  !  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Superintendence  of. 
 There  is  power 
 
 Unseen,  that  rules  the  illimitable  world. 
 
 That  guides  its  motions  from  the  brightest 
 star 
 
 To  the  least  dust  of  this  sin-tainted  mould ; 
 
 While  man,  who  madly  deems  himself  the 
 lord 
 
 Of  all,  is  nought  but  weakness,  and   de- 
 pendence. 
 
 This    sacred    truth,   by    sure    experience 
 tauglit, 
 
 Thou  must  have  learnt,  when  wandering 
 all  alone ; 
 
 Each  bird,  each  insect,  flitting  through  the 
 sky. 
 
 Was  more  suSicient  for  itself  than  thou. 
 
 Thomson, 
 
 PROVIDENCE-Universal. 
 
 By  Him  all  things  consist.  Every  object 
 in  nature  is  impressed  with  His  footprints, 
 and  each  new  day  repeats  the  wonders  of 
 creation.  Yes ;  there  is  not  a  morning  we 
 open  our  eyes,  but  tliey  meet  a  scene  as 
 wonderful  as  tliat  which  fixed  the  gaze  of 
 Adam  when  he  awoke  into  existence.  Nor 
 is  there  an  object,  be  it  pebble  or  pearl, 
 weed  or  rose,  the  flower-spangled  sward 
 beneath,  or  the  star-spangled  sky  above, 
 a  worm  or  an  angel,  a  drop  of  water  or  a 
 boundless  ocean,  in  which  intelligence  may 
 not  discern,  and  piety  may  not  adore,  the 
 Providence  of  Him  who  assumed  our  nature 
 that  He  might  save  our  so.ds.  If  God  is 
 not  in  all  the  thoughts  of  the  wicked,  He 
 is  in  everything  else.  I)r.  Guthrie. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— using  Small  Means. 
 
 In  the  first  planting  of  Christianity, 
 Christ  did  not  choose  eloquent  orators,  or 
 men  of  authority  in  the  courts  of  kings 
 and  emperors,  but  twelve  poor  mechanics 
 and  fishermen ;  and  these  not  sent  toge- 
 ther in  a  troop,  but  some  to  one  country 
 to  conquer  it,  and  some  anotlier;  the 
 most  ridiculous  course,  in  appearance,  for 
 such  a  design  as  could  be  imagined ;  and 
 yet,  in  how  short  a  time  was  the  Gospel 
 spread,  and  churches  planted  by  thein  in 
 the  several  kingdoms  of  the  world!  This 
 the  Psalmist  foresaw  by  the  spirit  of  pro- 
 phecy, when  he  said,  "Out  of  the  mouth 
 of  babes  and  sucklings  hast  Thou  ordained 
 strength,   that   Thou   miglitest   still    the 
 
PROVIDENCE. 
 
 713 
 
 enemy  and  fhe  avenger"  (Psa.  vili,  2).  At 
 the  sound  of  rams'  horns  Jericho  is  de- 
 livered into  the  hands  of  Israel  (Josh,  vi, 
 20).  By  three  hundred  men,  with  their 
 pitchers  and  lamps,  the  huge  host  of  Midian 
 is  discomforted  (Judges  vii,  19).  The 
 Protestants  hesieged  at  Beziers,  in  France, 
 are  delivered  by  a  drunken  drummer,  who, 
 going  to  his  quarters  at  midnight,  rang 
 the  alarm  bell  of  the  town,  not  knowing 
 what  he  did,  and  just  then  were  their 
 enemies  making  their  assault.  And,  as 
 weak  and  improbable  means  have  been 
 blessed  with  success  to  the  Church  in  gene- 
 ral, so,  to  the  preservation  of  its  particular 
 members  also.  A  spider,  by  weaving  her 
 web  over  the  mouth  of  an  oven,  shall  hide 
 a  servant  of  Christ  (Du  Moulin)  from  his 
 enemies,  wlio  took  refuge  there  in  that 
 bloody  Parisian  massacre.  Flavel. 
 
 PROVIDENCE-Views  of. 
 
 Our  views  of  Providence  are  now  partial 
 and  superficial.  We  judge  too  much  by 
 the  appearance  and  present  effect  of  things ; 
 but  in  the  future  life,  we  shall  enjoy  a 
 clearer  understanding  of  them,  and  see  more 
 into  the  reasons  and  connections  of  them. 
 We  are  now  something  like  a  person  who 
 should  pass  judgment  upon  the  interior  of 
 a  watch,  when  he  had  never  seen  one,  nor 
 had  any  perfect  instructions  in  it;  then, 
 we  shall  be  like  the  same  person,  having 
 the  interior  exposed  to  his  view  and  fully 
 explained  in  all  its  parts  and  relations  by 
 one  who  is  intimately  conversant  with  the 
 whole.  Now  we  see  Providence  as  one 
 looking  on  the  back  pnrt  of  a  piece  of  em- 
 broidery; then  as  one  looking  on  the 
 finished  and  proper  side.  Now  we  see  it 
 as  men  see  a  magnificent  stained-glass 
 window  of  a  church  from  the  chuchyard, 
 then  as  one  who  gazes  upon  it  from  the 
 interior  of  the  building.  John  Bate. 
 
 PEOVIDENCE— in  the  "Wind. 
 
 Thei-e  is  another  sense  in  which  these 
 material  agencies  are  working  a  moral  pro- 
 gress, and  so  promoting  the  scheme  of 
 God.  Looking  up  at  the  weathercock, 
 says  the  sage  of  vanity,  "  Woe's  me  for 
 this  weary  wind !  There  it  was  south  this 
 morning,  and  now  it  is  north !  How 
 many  ways  it  blows,  and  never  long  the 
 same !  What's  the  use  of  all  this  whirl- 
 ing ?"  And  if  it  were  only  to  make  the 
 vane  spin  round,  the  air  as  well  might  be 
 stagnate;  there  were  no  need  of  such 
 wasted  power.  But  whilst  the  valetudi- 
 narian is  looking  at  the  vane,  the  wind  is 
 careering  over  a  continent,  and  doing  the 
 Creator's  work  in  a  hundred  lands.  It 
 has  called  at  yon  city,  foetid  with  miasma, 
 and  groaning  with  pestilence;  and  with 
 its  besom  of  swift  pinions  it  has  swept  the 
 plague   away.    '  It  has   looked    into  yon 
 
 haven,  and  found  a  forest  of  laden  ships 
 sleeping  over  their  freights,  and  it  has 
 chased  them  all  to  sea.  And  finding  the 
 harvest  arrested  in  a  broad  and  fertile 
 realm;  the  earth  chapped,  and  the  crops 
 withering,  it  is  now  hurrying  with  that 
 black  armament  of  clouds  to  drench  it  in 
 lifesome  irrigation.  To  narrow  observation 
 or  to  selfishness,  that  wind  is  an  annoyance ; 
 to  faith,  it  is  God's  angel  forwarding  the 
 mighty  plan.  'Tis  a  boisterous  night,  and 
 Pictish  savages  curse  the  noisy  blast  which 
 shakes  their  peat  hovel  round  their  ears; 
 but  that  noisy  blast  has  lauded  the  Gospel 
 on  St.  Andrew's  shore.  It  blows  a  fearful 
 tempest,  and  it  sets  some  rheumatic  joints 
 on  aching ;  but  the  morrow  shows  dashed 
 in  pieces  the  awful  Armada  which  was 
 fetching  the  Spanish  Incjuisition  to  our 
 British  Isle.  The  wind  blows  east  and 
 detains  James'  ships  at  Harwich;  but  it 
 guides  King  William  to  Torbay.  Yes; 
 "  the  wind  blows  south,  and  the  wind 
 blows  north ;  it  whirleth  about  continually, 
 and  returneth  again  according  to  its  cir- 
 cuits."  But  in  the  course  of  these  circuits 
 the  wind  has  blown  to  our  little  speck  of 
 seagirt  happiness  the  Gospel,  and  Protest- 
 antism, and  civil  and  religious  liberty ; 
 and  so,  not  of  our  islet  only,  but  of  our 
 globe  entire,  and  its  continuous  population, 
 so  far  as  the  individual  is  concerned,  so  far 
 as  it  affects  the  weather  index,  in  the  wind 
 there  may  be  little  seeming  grogress ;  nay, 
 so  far  as  concerns  any  plan  which  society 
 purposes  to  itself,  the  favouring  gale  may 
 shift  and  shift  again,  and  the  story  of  a 
 nation  be  little  better  than  the  register  of 
 a  stationary  vane  pirouetting  on  its  windy 
 pivot ;  but  so  far  as  affects  the  scheme  of 
 God,  there  is  an  aura  in  the  universe  which 
 always  drives  one  way.  Predestination  is 
 a  vane  which  never  vibrates,  and  Provi- 
 dence a  wind  which  never  whirls  about. 
 The  breath  of  God's  Spirit,  and  the  strength 
 of  God's  purpose  are  steadily  wafting  our 
 world,  and  all  the  worlds,  in  one  mighty 
 convoy  towards  God's  appointed  haven  in 
 the  distant  future.  Br.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 PROVIDENCE— Wisdom  of. 
 
 All  the  events  of  life  are  precious  to  one 
 that  has  this  simple  connection  with  Christ 
 of  faith  and  love.  No  wind  can  blow 
 wrong,  no  event  be  mistimed,  no  result 
 disastrous.  If  God  but  cares  for  our 
 inward  and  eternal  life,  if  by  all  the  ex- 
 periences of  this  life,  He  is  reducing  it 
 and  preparing  for  its  disclosure,  nothing 
 can  betall  us  but  prospci'ity.  Every  sorrow 
 shall  be  but  the  setting  of  some  luminous 
 jewel  of  joy.  Our  very  mourning  shall  be 
 but  the  enamel  around  the  diamond;  our 
 very  hardships  but  the  metallic  rim  that 
 holds  the  opal,  glancing  with  strange  in- 
 terior fires.  E.  W,  Beecher. 
 
714 
 
 PEO  VIDEN  CE— PS  ALMS. 
 
 PEOVIDEITCE— always  Working. 
 
 God's  work  of  Providence  is  "  His  most 
 holy,  wise,  and  powerful  preserving  and 
 governing  of  all  His  creatures  and  all  their 
 actions."  It  has  no  Sabbath.  No  night 
 suspends  it,  and  from  its  labours  God  never 
 rests.  If,  for  the  sake  of  illustration,  I 
 may  compare  small  things  with  great,  it  is 
 like  the  motion  of  the  heart.  Beating  our 
 march  to  the  grave,  since  the  day  we 
 hegan  to  live,  the  heart  has  never  ceased 
 to  beat.  Our  limbs  grow  weary;  not  it. 
 We  sleep;  it  never  sleeps.  Needing  no 
 period  of  repose  to  recruit  its  strength,  by 
 night  and  day  it  throbs  in  every  pulse ; 
 and  constantly  supplying  nourisliment  to 
 the  meanest  as  well  as  to  the  noblest  organs 
 of  our  frame,  with  mensnred,  steady,  un- 
 tired  stroke,  it  drives  the  blood  along  the 
 bounding  arteries,  without  any  exercise  of 
 will  on  our  part,  and  even  when  the  con- 
 sciousness of  our  own  existence  is  lost  in 
 dreamless  slumbers.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 PROVOCATIONS— Little. 
 
 Slime  men  are  more  vexed  with  a  fly 
 than  with  a  wound;  and  when  the  gnats 
 disturb  our  sleep,  and  the  reason  is  dis- 
 quieted, but  not  perfectly  awakened,  it  is 
 often  seen  that  he  is  fuller  of  trouble  than 
 if  in  the  daylight  of  his  reason  he  were  to 
 contest  with  a  potent  enemy.    Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 PROVOCATIONS— Avoid  giving. 
 
 They  that  govern  elephants  never  ap- 
 pear before  them  in  white;  and  the  masters 
 of  bulls  keep  from  tliem  all  garments  of 
 blood  and  scarlet,  as  knowing  that  they 
 will  be  impatient  of  civil  usages  and  dis- 
 cipline, when  their  natures  are  provoked 
 by  their  proper  antipathies.  Ibid. 
 
 PRUDENCE— Definitions  of. 
 
 Prudence  is  the  act  of  suiting  words  and 
 actions  according  to  the  circumstances  of 
 things,  or  rules  of  right  reason.  Cicero 
 thus  defines  it: — "The  knowledge  of  what 
 is  to  be  desired  or  avoided."  Grove  thus : 
 — "  Prudence  is  an  ability  of  judging  what 
 is  best  iu  the  choice  both  of  ends  and 
 means."  C  Buck. 
 
 Prudence  is  a  virtue  of  the  soul,  nay, 
 the  very  soul  of  virtue,  the  mistress  to 
 guide  the  life  in  goodness.  T.  Adams. 
 
 PRUDENCE— Precedence  of. 
 
 Aristotle  is  praised  for  naming  fortitude, 
 the  first  of  the  cardinal  virtues,  as  that 
 without  which  no  other  virtue  can  steadily 
 be  practised;  but  he  might  with  equal 
 propriety  have  placed  prudence  before  it, 
 since  without  prudence  fortitude  is  mad- 
 ness. S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 PRUDENCE  AND  WISDOM. 
 
 Prudence  is  a  conformity  to  the  rules  of 
 reason,  truth,  and  decency,  at  all  times, 
 and  in  all  circumstances.  It  differs  from 
 wisdom  only  iu  degree;  wisdom  being 
 nothing  but  a  more  consummate  habit  of 
 prudence ;  and  prudence  a  lower  degree  or 
 weaker  habit  of  wisdom.  J.  Mason. 
 
 PSALMS— Book  of. 
 
 The  Greeks  call  this  book  the  Psalter; 
 and  deservedly  give  it  many  high  com- 
 mendations, as  that  it  is  the"  Soul's  Ana- 
 tomy, the  Law's  Epitomy,  the  Gospel's 
 Index,  the  Garden  of  the  Scriptures,  a 
 Sweet  Field  and  Rosary  of  Promises,  Pre- 
 cepts, Predictions,  Praises,  Soliloquies,  &c., 
 the  very  Heart  and  Soul  of  God,  the 
 Tongue  and  Pen  of  David,  a  man  after 
 God's  own  heart;  one  murmur  of  whose 
 Michtam,  or  Maschil,  one  touch  of  whose 
 heavenly  harp  is  far  above  all  the  buskin'd 
 raptures,  garish  phantasms,  splendid  vani- 
 ties, pageants,  and  landscapes  of  profane 
 wits ;  far  better  worthy  to  be  written  in 
 letters  of  gold,  than  Pindar's  seventh  'Ode' 
 in  the  temple  at  Rhodes;  and  far  more  fit 
 to  have  been  laid  up  as  a  rare  and  precious 
 jewel,  in  that  Persian  Casket,  embroidered 
 with  gold  and  pearl,  than  '  Homer's  Iliads,' 
 for  which  it  was  reserved  by  great  Alex- 
 ander. J.  Trapp. 
 
 PSALMS— Excellence  of  the. 
 
 Men  seemingly  the  most  unlikely  to  ex- 
 press entliusiasm  about  any  such  matter — 
 lawyers  and  statists  immersed  deeply  in 
 this  world's  business,  classical  scholars  fa- 
 miliar with  other  models  of  beauty,  other 
 standards  of  art — these  have  been  forward 
 as  the  forwardest  to  set  their  seal  to  this 
 book,  have  left  their  confession  that  it  was 
 the  voice  of  their  inmost  heart,  that  the 
 spirit  of  it  passed  into  their  spirits  as  did 
 the  spirit  of  no  other  book,  that  it  found 
 them  more  often,  and  at  greater  depths  of 
 their  being,  lifted  them  to  higher  heights 
 than  did  any  other — or,  as  one  greatly- 
 suffering  man,  telling  of  the  solace  which 
 he  found  from  this  book  of  Psalms  in  the 
 hours  of  a  long  imprisonment,  has  expressed 
 it — that  it  bore  him  up,  as  a  lark  perched 
 between  an  eagle's  wings  is  borne  up  into 
 the  everlasting  sunlight,  till  he  saw  the 
 world  and  all  its  trouble  for  ever  under- 
 neath him.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 PSALMS— Fulness  of  the. 
 
 Indeed,  when  I  came  to  look  upon  the 
 Psalter  with  a  nearer  observation,  and  an 
 eye  diligent  to  espy  any  advantages  and 
 remedies  there  deposited,  I  found  so  many 
 admirable  promises,  so  rare  variety  of  tho 
 expressions  of  the  mercies  of  God,  so  many 
 consolatory  hymns,  the  commemoration  of 
 
PSALMS-PUNCTUALITY. 
 
 715 
 
 so  many  deliverances  from  dangers  and 
 deaths  and  enemies,  so  many  miracles  of 
 mercy  and  salvation,  that  I  began  to  be 
 so  confident  as  to  believe  there  could  come 
 no  affliction  great  enough  to  spend  so  great 
 a  stock  of  comfort  as  was  laid  up  in  the 
 treasure  of  the  Psalter.  The  saying  of  St. 
 Paul  was  here  verified,  "  If  sin "  and 
 misery  "did  abound,  then  did  grace  more 
 superabound ;"  and  as  we  believe  of  the 
 passion  of  Christ,  it  was  so  great  as  to  be 
 able  to  satisfy  for  a  thousand  worlds,  so  is 
 it  of  the  comforts  of  David's  psalms,  they 
 are  more  than  sufficient  to  repair  all  the 
 breaches  of  mankind.  Bjp.  Taylor. 
 
 PSALMS— Variety  of  the. 
 
 The  Psalms  are  the  manna  of  the 
 Church.  As  manna  tasted  to  every  man 
 like  that  he  liked  best,  so  do  the  Psalms 
 minister  instruction  and  satisfaction  to 
 every  man  in  every  emergency  and  oc- 
 casion. David  was  not  only  a  clear  pro- 
 phet of  Christ  Himself,  but  a  prophet  of 
 every  particular  Christian ;  he  foretells 
 what  I,  what  any,  shall  do,  and  suffer,  and 
 say.  And  as  the  whole  book  of  Psalms  is 
 oleum  ejfusum,  an  ointment  poured  out 
 upon  all  sorts  of  sores,  a  searcloth  that 
 supplies  all  bruises,  a  balm  that  searches 
 all  wounds,  so  are  there  some  certain 
 psalms  that  are  imperial  psalms,  that  com- 
 mand over  all  affections,  and  spread  them- 
 selves over  all  occasions ;  catholic  universal 
 psalms,  that  apply  themselves  to  all  ne- 
 cessities. Dr.  Donne. 
 
 PSALMS  AND  THE  CANTICLES. 
 
 The  Psalms,  the  Canticles,  the  poetic 
 books,  are  the  singing  groves,  the  tinkling 
 rills,  the  pastures  green  [of  the  Bible]. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Samdton. 
 
 PUBLICATIONS— Periodical. 
 
 As  to  religious,  scientific,  and  literary 
 publications,  there  are  now  (1864)  pub- 
 lished monthly  in  London,  of  religious 
 magazines,  186,900  copies ;  temperance 
 publications,  293,000;  useful,  educational, 
 and  entertaining,  337,000  ;  magazines  of  a 
 higher  class  at  Is.  and  upwards,  244,000; 
 and  of  serials  issued  by  the  great  pub- 
 lishers, highly  embellished  and  published 
 at  a  considerable  price,  363,000;  making  a 
 total  monthly  issue  of  these  publications 
 of  3,609,000.  Of  weekly  publications 
 there  are  issued — religious,  289,000;  useful, 
 educational,  and  entertaining,  734,000; 
 journals  containing  novels,  &c.,  1,053,000  : 
 romances  exciting  wonder  and  horror, 
 195,000;  immoral — really  impure — pub- 
 lications, the  issue  of  which  three  years 
 ago  was  stated  to  be  525,000,  was  now 
 reduced  to  9000  ;  free-thinking  literature, 
 under  5000;  total  issue  of  weekly  and 
 monthly  publications,  6,094,950.    And  this 
 
 estimate  excluded  all  the  publications  of 
 the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  and 
 all  the  missionary  publications,  and  all 
 books  issued  in  the  form  of  volumes.  In 
 1831  the  aggregate  circulation  of  monthly 
 magazines  issued  in  London  did  not,  on  a 
 very  liberal  computation,  exceed  125,000, 
 so  that  the  number  now  issued  was  fifteen- 
 fold  greater.  Baines. 
 
 PULPIT— The. 
 
 The  pulpit  (in  the  sober  use 
 Of  its  legitimate,  peculiar  powers) 
 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  ofhce  sacred,  his  credentials  clear. 
 By  him  tlie  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,  arm'd  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 ! 
 
 Coioper. 
 PULPIT— Manner  in  the. 
 
 Dr.  Stonehouse  iised  to  tell  two  lessons 
 of  elocution  which  he  had  one  day  received 
 from  Garrick,  at  the  close  of  the  service. 
 "  What  particular  business  had  you  to  do 
 to-day  when  the  duty  was  over?"  asked 
 the  actor.  "None."  "  Why,"  said  Garrick, 
 "  r  thought  you  must,  from  the  hurry  in 
 which  you  entered  the  desk.  Nothing  can 
 be  more  indecentthan  to  see  a  clergyman  set 
 about  sacred  service  as  if  he  were  a  trades- 
 man, and  wanted  to  get  through  it  as  soon 
 as  possible.  But  what  might  those  books 
 be  which  you  had  on  the  desk  before  you  ?" 
 "  Only  the  Bible  and  Prayer  Book,"  re- 
 plied the  preacher.  "  Only  the  Bible  and 
 Prayer  Book,"  rejoined  the  player.  "  Why, 
 you  tossed  them  about,  and  turned  the 
 leaves  as  carelessly  as  if  they  were  a  day- 
 book  and  ledger."  And  by  the  reproof  of 
 the  British  Boscius  the  doctor  greatly 
 profited;  for  even  among  the  pump-room 
 exquisites  he  was  admired  for  the  perfect 
 grace  and  propriety  of  his  pulpit  manner. 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 PUNCTUALITY— at  Divine  Worship. 
 
 The  Countess  of  Burford,  for  the  last 
 few  years  of  her  life,  had  to  ride  almost 
 
71B 
 
 PUNCTUALITY. 
 
 constantly  o«i  horseTiack,  upwards  of  six- 
 teen miles  to  and  from  the  place  where 
 she  attended  to  hear  the  Gospel,  yet  neither 
 frost,  snow,  rain,  nor  bad  roads  were  suf- 
 ficient to  detain  her  at  home,  nor  to  pre- 
 vent her  being  there  before  the  worship 
 began,  K.  Arvitie. 
 
 A  woman  who  always  used  to  attend 
 public  worship  with  great  punctuality,  and 
 took  care  to  be  always  in  time,  was  asked 
 how  it  was  she  could  always  come  so  early. 
 She  answered,  very  wisely,  "  It  is  a  part 
 of  my  religion,  not  to  disturb  the  religion 
 of  others."  i6id. 
 
 PUNCTUALITY— Evil  of  the  "Want  of. 
 
 I  give  it  as  my  deliberate  and  solemn 
 conviction  that  the  individual  who  is  habitu- 
 ally tardy  in  meeting  an  appointment,  will 
 never  be  respected  or  successful  in  life. 
 
 Dr.  Fisk. 
 PUNCTUALITY— in  doing  Good. 
 
 I  once  attended  an  old  man  on  his  death- 
 bed. He  was  very  lonely,  and  very  poor, 
 and  more  than  fourscore  years  of  age.  He 
 was  naturally  very  shy  and  timid,  and 
 suffering  from  many  unbelieving  doubts 
 and  fears.  It  was  sad  to  see  au  old  man 
 so  far  from  peace  with  his  Father ;  yet  he 
 had  been  a  church  member,  and  had  led 
 what  is  termed  "  a  quiet  inoffensive  life." 
 I  found  him,  however,  very  earnest,  inquir- 
 ing, and  thoughtful ;  but  very  weak  in  his 
 faith,  as  to  the  goodwill  of  God  towards 
 him,  and  in  the  freeness  of  the  gospel 
 ofl'ers  of  pardon  and  grace  to  him.  I  felt 
 much  interested  in  him.  One  afternoon  I 
 was  passing  his  door.  I  had  seen  him  the 
 day  before.  His  illness  seemed  to  be  the 
 lingering  weakness  of  old  age.  It  was 
 within  a  few  minutes  of  my  dinner  hour, 
 and  I  bad  been  labouring  since  morning. 
 A  strong  impulse  seized  me  to  enter  the 
 sick  man's  house.  But  the  flesh  argued 
 for  delay  and  pleaded  fatigue,  and  want  of 
 time,  and  to-morrow,  &c.  Yet  the  words, 
 "  What  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it," 
 rung  in  my  mind. 
 
 I  entered,  and  found  the  old  man  very 
 weak.  "Osir!"  he  exclaimed,  alluding 
 to  a  previous  conversation,  "  is  the  Lord 
 indeed  willing  to  receive  a  poor  sinner  like 
 me?"  I  again  pressed  a  few  truths  upon 
 his  mind ;  and,  when  parting,  I  strongly 
 urged  the  importance  of  believing  in  the 
 love  of  God  to  Him  through  Jesus  Christ. 
 In  bidding  him  farewell,  I  said,  "  As  freely 
 as  I  offer  you  my  hand,  and  with  infinitely 
 more  love,  does  Jesus  offer,  as  i/our 
 Saviour,  every  possible  good,  and  Himself 
 as  the  greatest  good  of  all.  Believe  and 
 thou  shalt  be  saved."  He  seized  my  hand 
 eagerly,  saying,  "I  believe  it!"  and  pro- 
 mised, according  to  my  request,  to  resign 
 
 himself  and  all  his  concerns  in  earnest 
 prayer  into  Christ's  hands  the  moment  I 
 left  his  poor  and  lonely  room.  "  You  will 
 pray  for  me,  sir  ?"  he  asked,  as  I  was  de- 
 parting. "  Yes,"  I  replied.  "  To-day, 
 sir?" — "This  hour,"  was  my  promise; 
 "but,"  I  added,  "no  delay — no,  not  a 
 minute  !  remember  you  are  to  pray  imme- 
 diately to  Jesus,  and  to  tell  Him  all  your 
 cares,  sins,  and  son-ows,  and  to  commit 
 your  soul  to  His  keeping  now  and  for  ever. 
 Farewell."  I  sent  for  a  person  to  sit  by 
 the  old  man,  as  he  seemed  weaker  than 
 usual.  In  about  half  an  hour  after  parting 
 from  him,  the  woman  whom  I  had  requested 
 to  attend  him  came  running  to  my  door 
 with  the  intelligence,  that  she  had  Jound 
 him  dead. 
 
 It  is  now  many  long  years  since  this 
 happened;  and  I  have  so  far  remembered 
 the  impression  which  it  made  upon  me  as 
 to  the  importance  of  doing  at  the  time 
 whatever  work  is  given  us  to  do,  that  I 
 could  relate  not  a  few  remarkable  in- 
 stances (amidst,  alas  !  many  more  neglects) 
 of  the  good  results  of  immediate  attention 
 to  duty,  which  the  memory  of  this  very 
 case  helped  to  enforce.  Br.  Macleod. 
 
 PUNCTUALITY  (Neglect  of)— Cored. 
 
 Amongst  other  follies,  Beau  Brummell 
 had  that  of  choosing  to  be  always  too  late 
 for  dinner.  Wherever  he  was  invited,  he 
 liked  to  be  waited  for.  He  thought  it  was 
 a  proof  of  his  fashion  and  consequence; 
 and  the  higher  the  rank  of  his  entertainer, 
 the  later  was  the  arrival  of  this  impudent 
 parvenu.  The  Marquess  of  Abercorn  had 
 for  some  time  submitted  to  this  oft  re- 
 peated trial  of  his  patience,  but  at  length 
 he  would  bear  it  no  longer.  Accordingly, 
 one  day,  when  he  had  invited  Brummell  to 
 dine,  he  desired  to  have  the  dinner  on  the 
 table  punctually  at  the  time  appointed. 
 The  servants  obeyed,  and  Brummell  and 
 the  cheese  arrived  together.  The  wonder- 
 ing beau  was  desired  by  the  master  of  the 
 house  to  sit  down.  He  vouchsafed  no 
 apology  for  what  had  happened,  but  coolly 
 said,  "  I  hope  Mr.  B.,  cheese  is  not  disa- 
 greeable to  you."  It  is  said  that  Brummell 
 was  never  late  at  that  house  in  future. 
 
 Mrs.  Ojne. 
 PUNCTUALITY— "Want  of. 
 
 A  singular  mischance  has  occurred  to 
 some  of  our  friends.  At  the  instant  when 
 He  ushered  them  on  existence,  God  gave 
 them  a  work  to  do,  and  He  also  gave  thera 
 a  competency  of  time ;  so  much  time,  that 
 if  they  began  at  the  right  moment,  and 
 wrought  with  sufficient  vigour,  their  time 
 and  their  work  would  end  together.  But 
 a  good  many  yeai's  ago,  a  strange  misfor- 
 tune befel  them.  A  fragment  of  their 
 allotted  time  was  lost.     They  cannot  tell 
 
PUNCTUALITY  AND  EXACTNESS— FUEITANS. 
 
 717 
 
 what  became  of  it,  but  sure  enough  it  has 
 dropped  out  of  existence ;  for  just  like  two 
 measuring  lines  hiid  alongside,  the  one  an 
 inch  shorter  than  the  other,  their  work 
 and  their  time  run  parallel,  but  the  work 
 is  always  ten  minutes  in  advance  of  the 
 time.  They  are  not  irregular.  They  are 
 never  too  soon.  Their  letters  are  posted 
 the  very  minute  after  the  mail  is  shut ; 
 they  arrive  at  the  wharf  just  in  time  to  see 
 the  steamboat  off;  they  come  in  sight  of 
 the  terminus  precisely  as  the  station-gates 
 are  closing.  They  do  not  break  any  en- 
 gagement nor  neglect  any  duty  ;  but  they 
 systematically  go  about  it  too  late,  and 
 usually  too  late  by  about  the  same  fatal 
 interval.  Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 PUIfCTUALITY  AND  EXACTNESS. 
 
 Punctuality  and  exactness  are  always 
 taken  in  a  good  sense ;  they  designate  an 
 attention  to  that  which  cannot  be  dis- 
 pensed with;  they  form  a  part  of  one's 
 duty.  Early  habits  of  method  and  regu- 
 larity will  make  a  man  very  exact  in  the 
 performance  of  all  his  duties,  and  particu- 
 larly punctual  in  his  payments.  Exact- 
 ness has  respect  to  our  conduct  or  what  we 
 do  ;  punctuality  to  the  time  and  season  of 
 doing  it.  In  our  accounts  we  should  have 
 exactness;  in  observing  the  hour  or  the 
 day  fixed  upon,  or  the  promise  given,  we 
 should  show  punctuality.  G.  Crahh. 
 
 PUNISHMENT-Futixre. 
 
 Let  the  fairest  star  be  selected,  like  a 
 beauteous  island  in  the  vast  and  shoreless 
 sea  of  the  azure  heavens,  as  the  future 
 home  of  the  criminals  from  the  earth,  and 
 let  these  possess  whatever  they  most  love, 
 and  all  that  it  is  possible  for  God  to  bestow  ; 
 let  them  be  endowed  with  undying  bodies, 
 and  with  minds  which  shall  for  ever  retain 
 their  intellectual  powers;  let  no  Saviour 
 ever  press  His  claims  upon  them,  no  Holy 
 Spirit  visit  them,  no  God  reveal  Himself 
 to  them,  no  Sabbath  ever  dawn  upon  them, 
 no  saint  ever  live  among  them,  no  prayer 
 ever  be  heard  within  their  borders;  but 
 let  society  exist  there  for  ever,  smitten  only 
 by  the  leprosy  of  hatred  to  God,  and  with 
 utter  selfishness  as  its  all  prevailing  and 
 eternal  purpose,  then,  as  sure  as  the  law  of 
 righteousness  exists,  on  which  rests  the 
 throne  of  God  and  the  government  of  the 
 universe,  a  society  so  constituted  must 
 •work  out  for  itself  a  hell  of  solitary  and 
 bitter  suffering,  to  which  there  is  no  limit 
 except  the  capacity  of  a  finite  nature ! 
 Alas  !  the  spirit  that  is  without  love  to  its 
 God  or  to  its  neighbour  is  already  possessed 
 by  a  power  which  must  at  least  create  for 
 its  own  self-torment  a  worm  that  will 
 never  die,  and  a  flame  that  can  never  more 
 be  quenched !  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 PUNISHMENT— Future. 
 
 The  existence  of  future  punishment  and 
 "everlasting  destruction,"  is  an  evidence 
 of  the  goodness,  justice,  and  wisdom  of 
 God;  of  goodness,  in  that  it  is  a  motive 
 to  prevent  sin  and  turn  men  from  evil ; 
 of  justice,  in  that  it  is  the  righteous  doom 
 of  irreclaimable  sinners;  and  of  wisdom, 
 in  that  God  can  thus  make  the  penalty  of 
 sin  a  motive  to  deter  from  sin. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 PUNISHMENT  OP  EVIL  SPIRITS. 
 
 Evil  S]!irits  know  themselves  reserved  in 
 those  chains  of  darkness  for  the  judgment 
 of  the  great  day.  There  is  the  same  wages 
 due  to  their  sins  and  to  ours ;  neither  are 
 the  wages  paid  till  the  work  be  done. 
 They,  tempting  men  to  sin,  must  needs  sin 
 grievously,  in  tempting,  as  with  us  men, 
 those  that  mislead  into  sin,  ofi'end  more 
 than  the  actors.  Not  till  the  upshot  there- 
 fore of  their  wickedness,  shall  they  receive 
 the  full  measure  of  their  coudemnation. 
 
 £p.  Mall. 
 PURE  IN  HEART. 
 
 "  The  pure  in  heart "  are  they  whose 
 hearts  God  hath  "  purified  even  as  He  is 
 pure;"  who  are  purified,  through  faith  in 
 the  blood  of  Jesus,  from  every  unholy  af- 
 fection; who,  being  "cleansed  from  all 
 filthiness  of  fiesh  and  spirit,  perfect  holi- 
 ness in  the  love  and  fear  of  God."  They 
 are,  through  the  power  of  His  gract-, 
 purified  from  pride,  Ijy  the  deepest  poverty 
 of  spirit;  from  anger,  from  every  unkind 
 or  turbulent  passion,  by  meekness  and 
 gentleness;  from  every  desire  but  to  please 
 and  enjoy  God,  to  know  and  love  Him 
 more  and  more,  by  that  hunger  and  thirst 
 after  righteousness  which  now  engrosses 
 their  whole  soul;  so  that  now  they  love 
 the  Lord  their  God  with  all  their  heart, 
 and  with  all  their  soul,  and  mind  and 
 strength.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 PURITANS— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  Puritans  were  men  whose  minds 
 had  derived  a  peculiar  character  from  the 
 daily  contemplation  of  superior  beings  and 
 eternal  interests. 
 
 Not  content  with  acknowledging,  in 
 general  terms,  an  overruling  Providence, 
 they  habitually  ascribed  every  event  to  the 
 will  of  the  Great  Being,  for  whose  power 
 nothing  was  too  vast,  for  whose  inspection 
 nothing  was  too  minute.  To  know  Him, 
 to  serve  Him,  to  enjoy  Him,  was  with 
 them  the  great  end  of  existence.  They 
 rejected  with  contempt  the  ceremonious 
 homage  which  other  sects  substituted  for 
 the  pure  worship  of  the  soul.  Instead  of 
 catching  occasional  glimpses  of  the  Deity 
 through  an  obscuring  veil,  they  aspired  to 
 
718 
 
 PURITY. 
 
 gaze  full  on  His  intoleraMe  brightness,  and 
 to  commune  with  Him  face  to  face.  Hence 
 originated  their  contemjit  for  terrestial 
 distinctions.  Tlie  difference  between  the 
 greatest  and  the  meanest  of  mankind 
 seemed  to  vanish,  when  compared  with  the 
 boundless  interval  which  separated  the 
 •whole  race  from  Him  on  whom  their  own 
 eyes  were  constantly  fixed.  They  recog- 
 nised no  title  to  superiority  but  His  favour ; 
 and,  confident  of  that  favour,  they  despised 
 all  the  accomplishments  and  all  the  dig- 
 nities of  the  world.  If  they  were  un- 
 acquainted with  the  works  of  philosophers 
 and  poets,  they  were  deeply  read  in  the 
 oracles  of  God.  If  their  names  were  not 
 found  in  the  registers  of  heralds,  they  were 
 recorded  in  the  Book  of  Life.  If  their 
 steps  were  not  accompanied  by  a  splendid 
 train  of  menials,  legions  of  ministering 
 angels  had  charge  over  them.  Their 
 palaces  were  houses  not  made  with  hands; 
 their  diadems  crowns  of  glory  which  should 
 never  fade  away.  On  the  rich  and  the 
 eloquent,  ou  nobles  and  priests,  they  looked 
 down  with  contempt;  for  they  esteemed 
 themselves  rich  in  a  more  precious  treasure, 
 and  eloquent  in  a  more  sublime  language ; 
 nobles  by  the  right  of  an  earlier  creation, 
 and  priests  by  the  imposition  of  a  mightier 
 hand.  The  very  meanest  of  them  was  a 
 being  to  whose  fate  a  mysterious  and  ter- 
 rible importance  belonged,  on  whose 
 slightest  action  the  spirits  of  light  and 
 darkness  looked  with  anxious  interest,  who 
 had  been  destined  before  heaven  and  earth 
 were  created,  to  enjoy  a  felicity  which 
 should  continue  when  heaven  and  earth 
 should  have  passed  away.  Events  which 
 shortsighted  politicians  ascribed  to  earthly 
 causes,  had  been  ordained  on  his  account. 
 For  his  sake  empires  had  risen,  and 
 flourished  and  decayed.  For  his  sake  the 
 Almighty  h^d  proclaimed  His  will  by  the 
 pen  of  the  Evangelist,  and  the  harp  of  the 
 prophet.  He  had  been  wrested  by  no 
 common  deliverer  from  the  grasp  of  no 
 common  foe.  He  had  been  ransomed  by 
 the  sweat  of  no  vulgar  agony,  by  the 
 blood  of  no  earthly  sacrifice.  It  was  for 
 him  that  the  sun  had  been  darkened,  that 
 the  rocks  had  been  rent,  that  the  dead  had 
 risen,  that  all  nature  had  shuddered  at 
 the  sufferings  of  her  expiring  God. 
 
 Thus  the  puritan  was  made  up  of  two 
 different  men,  the  one  all  self-abasement, 
 penitence,  gratitude,  passion;  the  other 
 proud,  calm,  inflexible,  sagacious.  He 
 prostrated  himself  in  the  dust  before  his 
 Maker ;  but  he  set  his  foot  on  the  neck  of 
 his  king.  In  his  devotional  retirement, 
 he  prayed  with  convulsions,  and  groans 
 and  tears.  He  was  half  maddened  by 
 glorious  or  terrible  illusions.  He  heard 
 the  lyres  of  angels  or  the  tempting  whis- 
 pers of  fiends.    He  caught  a  gleam  of  the 
 
 beatific  vision,  or  woke  screaming  from 
 dreams  of  everlasting  fire.  Like  Vane, 
 he  thought  himself  intrusted  with  the 
 sceptre  of  the  millennial  year.  Like 
 Fleetwood,  he  cried  in  the  bitterness  of 
 his  soul  that  God  had  hid  His  face  from 
 him.  But  when  he  took  his  seat  in  the 
 council,  or  girt  on  his  sword  for  war,  these 
 tempestuous  workings  of  his  soul  had  lefb 
 no  perceptible  trace  behind  them.  People 
 who  saw  nothing  of  the  godly  but  their 
 uncouth  visages,  and  heard  nothing  from 
 them  but  their  groans  and  whining  liymns, 
 might  laugh  at  them.  But  those  had 
 little  reason  to  laugh  who  encountered 
 them  in  the  hall  of  debate  or  in  the  field 
 of  battle.  These  fanatics  brought  to  civil 
 and  military  affairs  a  coolness  of  judgment 
 and  an  immutability  of  purpose  which 
 some  writers  have  thought  inconsistent 
 with  their  religious  zeal,  but  which  were 
 in  fact  the  necessary  effects  of  it.  The 
 intensity  of  their  feelings  on  one  subject 
 made  them  tranquil  on  every  other.  One 
 overpowering  sentiment  had  subjected  to 
 itself  pity  and  hatred,  ambition  and  fear. 
 Death  had  lost  its  terrors  and  pleasure  its 
 charms.  They  had  their  smiles  and  their 
 tears,  their  raptures  and  their  sorrows,  but 
 not  fur  the  things  of  this  world.  Enthu- 
 siasm had  made  them  Stoics,  had  cleared 
 their  minds  from  every  vulgar  passion  and 
 prejudice,  and  raised  them  above  the  in- 
 fluence of  danger  and  of  corruption.  It 
 sometimes  might  lead  them  to  pursue 
 unwise  ends,  but  never  to  choose  unwise 
 means.  They  went  thi'ough  the  world, 
 like  Sir  Artegal's  iron  man  Talus,  with  his 
 flail  crushing  and  trampling  down  op- 
 pressors, mingling  with  human  beings,  but 
 having  neither  part  nor  lot  in  human  in- 
 firmities, insensible  to  fatigue,  to  pleasure, 
 and  to  pain,  not  to  be  pierced  by  any 
 weapon,  not  to  be  withstood  by  any  barrier. 
 Lord  Macaulay. 
 
 PURITY— Definition  of. 
 
 Purity  is  the  freedom  of  anything  from 
 foreign  admixture;  but  more  particularly 
 it  signifies  the  temper  directly  opposite  to 
 criminul  sensualities,  or  the  ascendancy  of 
 irregular  passions,  C.  Buck. 
 
 PURITY— Elements  of. 
 
 Purity  implies — 1.  A  fixed  habitual  ab- 
 horrence of  all  forbidden  indulgences  in 
 the  flesh.  2.  All  past  impurities,  either 
 of  heart  or  life,  will  be  reflected  on  with 
 shame  and  sorrow.  3.  The  heart  will  be 
 freed  in  a  great  measure,  from  impure  and 
 irregular  desires.  4.  It  will  discover  itself 
 by  a  cautious  fear  of  the  least  degree  of 
 impurity.  5.  It  implies  a  careful  and 
 habitual  guard  against  everything  which 
 tend*  to  pollute  the  mind.  C.  Buck, 
 
PURITY— PURPOSE. 
 
 ri9 
 
 PURITY— Preservation  of. 
 
 Her  life  flows  on  a  sacred  stream. 
 In  whose  calm  depth  the   beautiful   and 
 
 pure 
 Alone  arc  mirrored ;  which,  though  shapes 
 
 of  ill 
 Do  hover  round  its  surface,  glides  in  light, 
 And  takes  no  shadow  of  them. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 PURITY  OF  HEART— Nature  of. 
 
 I  would  have  you  attend  to  the  full 
 significance  and  extent  of  the  term  "  holy." 
 It  is  not  abstinence  from  outward  deeds  of 
 profligacy  alone — it  is  not  a  mere  recoil 
 from  impurity  in  thought.  It  is  that 
 quick  and  sensitive  delicacy  to  which  even 
 the  very  concepticm  of  evil  is  off'ensive  ;  it 
 is  a  virtue  which  has  its  residence  within, 
 which  takes  guardianship  of  the  heart,  as 
 of  a  citadel  or  inviolated  sanctuary,  in 
 which  no  wrong  or  worthless  imagination 
 is  permitted  to  dwell.  It  is  not  purity  of 
 action  that  we  contend  for ;  it  is  exalted 
 purity  of  heart — the  ethereal  purity  of  the 
 third  heaven  ;  and  if  it  is  at  once  settled 
 in  the  heart,  it  brings  the  peace,  the 
 triumph,  and  the  untroubled  serenity  of 
 heaven  along  with  it — I  had  almost  said, 
 the  pride  of  a  great  moral  victory  over 
 the  infirmities  of  an  earthly  and  accursed 
 nature :  there  is  a  health  and  harmony  in 
 the  soul;  a  beauty  which,  though  it 
 eflloresces  in  the  countenance,  and  the 
 outward  path,  is  itself  so  thoroughly  in- 
 ternal, as  to  make  purity  of  heart  the 
 most  distinctive  evidence  of  a  work  of 
 grace  in  time,  the  most  distinctive  guidance 
 of  a  character  that  is  ripening  and  expand- 
 ing for  the  glories  of  eternity.     Chalmers. 
 
 PURITY  OF  LIFE— Attaining. 
 
 See  that  eachhour'sfeelingsand  thoughts 
 and  actions  are  pure  and  true ;  then  will 
 your  life  be  such.  The  wide  pasture  is 
 but  separate  spears  of  grass ;  the  sheeted 
 bloom  of  the  prairies  but  isolated  flowers. 
 
 Anon. 
 PURPOSE— Power  of. 
 
 See  it  in  Martin  Luther.  Se  has  a 
 purpose,  that  miner's  son.  That  purpose  is 
 the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  He  exhausts 
 speedily  the  resources  of  Mansfield,  reads 
 hard,  and  devours  the  lectures  at  Magde- 
 burg, chants  in  the  hours  of  recreation, 
 like  the  old  Minnesingers,  in  the  streets  for 
 bread,  sits  at  the  feet  of  Trebonius  in  the 
 college  at  Eisenach,  enters  as  a  student  at 
 Erfurt,  and  at  the  age  of  eighteen  has  out- 
 stripped his  fellows,  has  a  university  for 
 his  admirer,  and  professors  predicting  for 
 him  the  most  successful  career  of  the  age. 
 Se  has  a  purpose,  that  scholar  of  Mrfurt. 
 That  purpose  is  the  discovery  of  truth,  for 
 in  the  old  library  he  has  stumbled  ou  a 
 
 Bible.  Follow  him  out  into  the  new  world 
 which  that  volume  has  flashed  upon  his 
 soul.  With  Pilate's  question  on  his  lip 
 and  in  his  heart,  he  forgoes  his  brilliant 
 prospect — parts,  without  a  sigh,  with  aca- 
 demical distinction — talces  monastic  vows 
 in  an  Augustine  convent — becomes  the 
 watchman  and  sweeper  of  the  place— goes, 
 a  mendicant  friar,  with  the  convent's  beg- 
 ging-bag, to  the  houses  where  he  had  been 
 welcomed  as  a  friend,  or  had  starred  it  as 
 a  lion — wastes  himself  with  voluntary 
 penances  well-nigh  to  the  grave — studies 
 the  fathers  intensely,  but  can  get  no  light 
 — pores  over  the  Book  itself,  with  scales 
 upon  his  eyes — catches  a  dim  streak  of 
 auroral  brightness,  but  leaves  Erfurt  befoi-e 
 the  glorious  dawn — until  at  last,  in  his  cell 
 at  Wittemberg,  on  his  bed  of  languishing 
 at  Bologna,  and  finally  at  Rome — Pilate's 
 question  answered  upon  Pilate's  stairs — 
 there  comes  the  thrice-repeated  Gospel- 
 whisper,  "The  just  shall  live  by  faith," 
 and  the  glad  evangel  scatters  the  darken- 
 ing and  shreds  oft'  the  paralysis,  and  he 
 rises  into  moral  freedom,  a  new  man  unto 
 the  Lord  1  Se  has  a  purpose,  that  Augus- 
 tine monk.  That  purpose  is  the  Refor- 
 mation !  Waiting  with  the  modesty  of  the 
 hero,  until  he  is  forced  into  the  strife,  with 
 the  courage  of  the  hero  he  steps  into  the 
 breach  to  do  battle  for  the  living  truth. 
 Tardy  in  forming  his  resolve,  he  is  brave 
 in  his  adhesion  to  it.  Not  like  Erasmus, 
 "  holding  the  truth  in  unrighteousness," 
 with  a  clear  head  and  a  craven  heart — not 
 like  Carlstadt,  hanging  upon  a  grand  prin- 
 ciple the  tatters  of  a  petty  vanity — not 
 like  Seckingen,a  wielder  of  carnal  weapons, 
 clad  in  glowing  mail,  instead  of  the  armo'ir 
 of  righteousness  and  the  weapon  of  all 
 prayer — but  bold,  disinterested,  spiritual — 
 he  stands  before  us,  God-prepared  and  God- 
 upheld  —that  valiant  Luther,  who,  in  his 
 opening  prime,  amazed  the  Cardinal  de 
 Vio  by  his  fearless  avowal,  "  Had  I  five 
 heads  I  would  lose  them  all  rather  than 
 retract  the  testimony  which  I  have  borne 
 for  Christ" — that  incorruptible  Luther, 
 whom  the  Pope's  nuncio  tried  in  vain  to 
 bribe,  and  of  whom  he  wrote  in  his  spleen, 
 "  This  German  beast  has  no  regard  for 
 gold  " — that  inflexible  Luther,  who,  when 
 told  that  the  fate  of  John  Huss  would  pro- 
 bably await  him  at  Worms,  said  calmly, 
 "  Were  they  to  make  a  fire  that  would  ex- 
 tend from  Worms  to  Wittemberg,  and 
 reach  even  to  the  sky,  I  would  walk  across 
 it  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  "—that  trium- 
 phant Luther,  who,  in  his  honoured  age, 
 sat  in  the  cool  shadow  and  'mid  the  purple 
 vintage  of  the  tree  himself  had  planted, 
 and  after  a  storraful  sojourn  scaped  the 
 toils  of  the  hunters,  and  died  peacefully  in 
 his  bed — that  undying  Luther,  "who,  being 
 dead,  yet  speaketh,"  the  mention  of  whose 
 
720 
 
 PURPOSE— QUENCHING  THE  SPISIT. 
 
 name  rouses  tlie  ardour  of  the  manly,  and 
 quickens  the  pulses  of  the  free;  whose 
 spirit  yet  stirs,  like  a  clarion,  the  great 
 heart  of  Christendom;  and  whose  very 
 bones  have  so  marvellous  a  virtue,  that, 
 like  the  bones  of  Elisha,  if  on  thein  were 
 stretched  the  corpse  of  an  effete  Protes- 
 tantism, they  would  surely  wake  it  into 
 life  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God. 
 
 TF.  31.  PimsTion. 
 
 PUKPOSE— Steadiness  of. 
 
 Many  who  slumber  in  nameless  graves, 
 or  wander  through  the  tortures  of  a  wasted 
 life,  have  had  memories  as  capacious,  and 
 faculties  as  fine  as  he  (Macaulay),  but  they 
 lacked  the  steadiness  of  purpose,  and 
 patient  thoughtful  labour,  which  multi- 
 plied the  "  ten  talents  "  into  "  ten  other 
 talents  beside  them."  It  is  the  old  lesson, 
 voiceful  from  every  life  that  has  a  moral 
 in  it— from  Bernard  Palissy,  selling  his 
 clothes,  and  tearing  up  his  floor  to  add 
 fiiel  to  the  furnace,  and  wearying  his  wife 
 and  amusing  his  neighbours  with  dreams 
 of  his  white  enamel,  through  the  unre- 
 munerative  years ;  from  Warren  Hastings, 
 lying  at  seven  years  old  upon  the  rivulet's 
 bank,  and  vowing  inwardly  that  he  would 
 regain  his  patrimonial  property,  and  dwell 
 in  his  ancestral  halls,  and  that  there  should 
 be  again  a  Hastings  of  Daylesford ;  from 
 William  Carey,  panting  after  the  moral 
 conquest  of  India,  whether  he  sat  at  the 
 lap-stone  of  his  early  craft,  or  wielded  the 
 ferule  in  the  village-school,  or  lectured  the 
 village  elders  when  the  Sabbath  dawned. 
 It  is  the  old  lesson,  a  worthy  purpose, 
 patient  energy  for  its  accomplishment,  a 
 resoluteness  that  is  undaunted  by  diffi- 
 culties, and,  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
 success.  Ibid. 
 
 PURPOSE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 A  man's  purpose  of  life  should  be  like  a 
 river,  which  was  born  of  a  thousand  little 
 rills  in  the  mountains  ;  and  when  at  last  it 
 has  reac;hed  its  manhood  in  the  plain, 
 though,  if  you  watch  it,  you  shall  see  little 
 eddies  that  seem  as  if  they  had  changed 
 their  minds  and  were  going  back  again  to 
 the  mountains,  yet  all  its  mighty  current 
 flows  changeless  to  the  sea.  If  you  build 
 a  dam  across  it,  in  a  few  hours  it  will  go 
 over  it  witli  a  voice  of  victory.  If  tides 
 check  it  at  its  mouth,  it  is  only  that  when 
 they  ebb  it  can  sweep  on  again  to  the 
 ocean.  So  goes  the  Amazon  or  the  Ori- 
 noco across  a  continent — never  losing  its 
 way  or  changing  its  direction  for  the  thou- 
 sand streams  that  fall  into  it  on  the  right 
 hand  and  on  the  left,  but  only  using  them 
 to  increase  its  force,  and  bearing  them  on- 
 ward in  its  resistless  channel. 
 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 Q. 
 
 QUANTITY  AND  QUALITY. 
 
 I  read  too  much,  I  think  too  much,  I  do 
 too  much,  I  am  too  much.  In  this  much- 
 ness, the  devil  has  his  castle.  God  is  for 
 quality ;  the  devil  for  show  and  quantity. 
 God  commends  to  me  the  "  little  child  ;" 
 the  devil  commends  to  me  the  great  man, 
 the  learned  man,  the  talented  man.  God 
 commends  to  me  the  "  little  flock  ;"  the 
 devil  tempts  me  to  join  my  soul  to  some 
 great  Babylon,  reformed  or  unreformed,  he 
 cares  not  which,  so  that  it  be  Babylon, 
 and  not  the  little  flock.  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 QUARRELS— Preventing. 
 
 Two  things,  well  considered,  would  pre- 
 vent many  quarrels ;  first,  to  have  it  well 
 ascertained  whether  we  are  not  disputing 
 about  terms,  rather  than  things ;  and 
 secondly,  to  examine  whether  that  on  which 
 we  difler  is  worth  contending  about. 
 
 C.  Colton. 
 QUARRELS— Producing. 
 
 In  most  quarrels  there  is  a  fault  on  both 
 sides.  A  quarrel  may  be  compared  to  a 
 spark,  which  cannot  be  produced  without 
 a  flint  as  well  as  a  steel,  either  of  them 
 may  hammer  on  wood  for  ever,  no  tire  will 
 follow.  Ihid. 
 
 QUENCHING  THE  SPIRIT— Ways  of. 
 
 The  Spirit  may  be  quenched  by  follow- 
 ing a  course  of  life  opposite  to  the  cha- 
 racter, operations,  and  relations  of  the 
 Spirit.  For  instance.  He  is  a  Spirit  of 
 truth,  and  we  may  quench  Him  by  imbibing 
 or  following  error.  He  is  a  Spirit  of 
 prayer,  and  we  may  quench  Him  by  re- 
 straining or  neglecting  prayer,  or  praying 
 in  a  manner  contrary  to  His  agency.  He 
 is  a  Spirit  of  love,  and  we  may  quench 
 Him  by  indulging  in  enmity.  He  is  a 
 Spirit  of  zeal,  unity,  holiness,  and  we  may 
 quench  Him  by  giving  way  to  lukewarm- 
 ness,  sin,  and  divisions. 
 
 Tiie  Spirit  of  God  may  be  quenched  in 
 us,  in  the  same  way  in  which  any  particular 
 spirit  or  manifestation  of  spirit,  may  be 
 quenched  in  our  children  or  in  each  other. 
 The  spirit  of  love  in  a  child  may  be 
 quenclied  by  the  example  of  enmity  iu 
 which  parents  may  indulge;  the  spirit  of 
 humility  by  the  nourishment  of  i^ride.  The 
 spirit  of  liberality  in  one  man,  may  be 
 quenched  by  the  reasonings,  persuasions, 
 and  example  of  the  spirit  of  niggardliness 
 in  another  man. 
 
 The  Sj)irit  is  light,  and  as  light  may  be 
 quenched  or  shut  out  from  our  rooms  by 
 shutters,  so  the  Spirit  may  be  quenched 
 within  ns  by  unljclicf,  &.C.  The  S[)irit 
 is   tire,  and  as  iire  may  be  quenched  by 
 
RACE— READING. 
 
 721 
 
 throwing  water  upon  it,  or  depriving  it  of 
 free  action  by  stifling  it ;  so  the  Spirit 
 may  be  quenched  within  us  by  indulging 
 in  any  disposition  or  action  contrary  to 
 His  nature. 
 
 If  you  quench  the  fire  in  your  room,  you 
 lose  the  liglit,  the  heat,  the  comforts,  and 
 all  the  helps  of  it ;  so  when  the  Spirit  is 
 quenched  within  you.  Wlieu  the  spirit  of 
 a  man  is  crushed  or  quenched  within  him, 
 he  is  of  little  worth  for  the  duties  and 
 purposes  of  life;  so  when  the  Spirit  of 
 God  is  quenched  within  you, 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 As  a  man  doth  quench  his  reason  with 
 over  much  wine ;  and  therefore  we  say 
 when  the  wine  is  in,  the  wit  is  out,  because 
 before  he  seems  to  have  reason,  and  now 
 he  seems  to  have  none  j  so  our  zeal,  and 
 our  faith,  and  our  love  are  quenched  with 
 sin.  Every  vain  thought,  and  every  idle 
 word,  and  every  wicked  deed,  is  like  so 
 many  drops  to  quench  the  Spirit  of  God. 
 Some  quench  it  with  the  business  of  this 
 world;  some  quench  with  the  lust  of  the 
 flesh ;  some  quench  with  the  cares  of  the 
 mind;  some  quench  it  witli  long  delays, 
 that  is,  not  plying  the  motion  when  it 
 Cometh,  but  crossing  the  good  thought 
 ith  bad  thoughts,  and  doing  a  thing  when 
 the  Spirit  saith,  Do  it  not ;  as  Ahab  went 
 to  battle  after  he  was  forbidden.  Some- 
 times a  man  shall  feel  himself  stirred  to  a 
 good  work,  as  though  he  were  led  to  it  by 
 the  hand  ;  and  again,  he  shall  be  frightened 
 from  some  evil  thing,  as  though  he  were 
 reproved  in  his  ear;  then,  if  he  resist,  he 
 shall  straight  feel  the  Spirit  going  out 
 of  him,  and  hear  a  voice  pronouncing  him 
 guilty,  and  he  shall  hardly  recover  his 
 peace  again.  Therefore  Paul  saith,  "  Grieve 
 not  the  Spirit ;"  showing  that  the  Spirit 
 is  often  grieved  before  it  be  quenched  ;  and 
 that  when  a  man  begins  to  grieve  and 
 check  and  persecute  the  Spirit  lightly,  he 
 never  ceaseth  until  he  have  quenched  it ; 
 that  is,  until  he  seem  to  have  no  Spirit  at 
 all,  but  walketh  like  a  lump  of  flesh. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 E. 
 
 RACE— Spiritual. 
 
 1.  A  man  that  runs  in  a  race  takes  great 
 care  to  begin  well :  so  he  who  runs  in  the 
 race  to  heaven  ought  to  take  great  care 
 when  and  how  he  begins. 
 
 2.  A  man  that  runs  a  race  ought  to 
 know  the  way  :  so  he  who  runs  the  Chris- 
 tian race. 
 
 3.  A  man  that  runs  a  race  must  put  on 
 a  fit  equijiage;  put  off"  his  upper  clothes 
 and  be  free  from  all  encumbrances  :  so  he 
 who  runs  to  heaven  must  lay  aside  every 
 weighi.,  and  the  sin  which  doth  eabily 
 beset  him. 
 
 4.  A  man  that  would  run  so  as  to  obtain 
 the  prize,  must  not  be  overcharged  with 
 inordinate  eating  and  drinking  :  so  he  who 
 runs  in  the  spiritual  race  must  cherish 
 temperance,  sobriety  (Luke  xxi,  34). 
 
 5.  A  man  that  would  so  run  as  to  ob- 
 tain must  not  lessen  his  pace,  but  must 
 run  swiftly,  constantly ;  not  loiter,  grow 
 careless  and  idle  :  so  of  the  Christian  racer. 
 
 6.  A  man  that  runs  a  race  may  meet 
 with  obstacles  ;  he  must  not  yield  to  them, 
 but  be  the  more  diligent :  so  of  the  Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 7.  Men  that  run  in  a  race,  generally 
 have  spectators:  the  Christian  is  sur- 
 rounded with  clouds  of  witnesses. 
 
 8.  Some  men  commence  well  in  a  race, 
 but  fail  iu  the  course  :  so  in  the  heavenly 
 race. 
 
 9.  Men  in  a  race  run  for  a  prize :  the 
 Christian  runs  for  everlasting  life.  Keach. 
 
 READING— Benefit  of. 
 
 Reading  serves  for  delight,  for  ornament, 
 and  for  ability.  The  crafty  contemn  it; 
 the  simple  admire  it;  the  wise  use  it. 
 Reading  makes  a  full  man ;  conference,  a 
 ready  man ;  and  writing  an  exact  man. 
 He  that  writes  little  needs  a  great  memory; 
 he  that  confers  little,  a  present  wit ;  and 
 he  that  reads  little,  much  cunning  to  seem 
 to  know  that  which  he  does  not. 
 
 TU)rd  Bacon. 
 
 READING— Choice  of  Books  for. 
 
 A  man  of  ability,  for  the  chief  of  his 
 reading,  should  select  such  works  as  he 
 feels  beyond  his  own  power  to  have  pro- 
 duced. What  can  other  books  do  for  him 
 but  waste  his  time  and  augment  his  vanity  ? 
 J.  Foster. 
 READING— Economy  in. 
 
 Few  have  been  sufficiently  sensible  of 
 the  importance  of  that  economy  in  reading 
 which  selects,  almost  exclusively,  the  very 
 first  order  of  books.  Why  should  a  man, 
 except  for  some  special  reason,  read  a  very 
 inferior  book,  at  the  very  time  that  he 
 might  be  reading  one  of  the  highest  order  ? 
 Ibid. 
 READING— Love  of. 
 
 Alexander  was  passionately  fond  of  read- 
 ing; and  lamenting  that  Asia  aflforded  no 
 books  to  amuse  his  leisure,  he  wrote  to 
 Harpalus  to  send  him  the  works  of  Phi- 
 listus,  the  tragedies  of  Euripides,  Sophocles, 
 ^schylus,  and  the  dithyrambics  of  Tha- 
 lestes.  Zimmerman. 
 
 Brutus,  the  avenger  of  the  violated 
 liberties  of  Rome,  while  serving  in  the 
 army  under  Pompey,  employed  among 
 books  all  the  moments  he  could  sjjare  from 
 the  duties  of  his  station;  and  was  even 
 thus  employed  during  the  awful  night 
 4& 
 
722 
 
 READING  -REASON. 
 
 which  preceded  the  celehrated  battle  of 
 Pharsalia,  by  which  the  fate  of  the  empire 
 was  decided.  Zimmerman. 
 
 Pliny  the  elder  employed  a  person  to 
 read  to  him  during  his  meals ;  and  he 
 never  travelled  without  a  book  and  a 
 portable  writing-desk  by  his  side.  He  made 
 extracts  fi-om  every  work  he  read. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 Pliny  the  younger  read  upon  all  occa- 
 sions, whether  riding,  walking,  or  sitting, 
 whenever  a  moment's  leisure  afforded  him 
 an  opportunity.  Ibid. 
 
 BEADING— Object  of. 
 
 Readers  in  general  who  have  an  object 
 beyond  amusement,  yet  are  not  apprised  of 
 the  most  important  use  of  reading,  the  ac- 
 quisition of  power.  Their  knowledge  is 
 not  power ;  and,  too,  the  memory  retains 
 but  the  small  part  of  the  knosvledge  of 
 which  a  book  should  be  full ;  the  grand 
 object,  then,  should  be  to  improve  the 
 strength  and  tone  of  the  mind  by  a  think- 
 ing, analysing,  discriminating,  manner  of 
 reading.  J.  Foster. 
 
 HEADING— Proper. 
 
 A  proper  and  judicious  system  of  reading 
 is  of  the  highest  importance.  Two  things 
 are  necessary  in  perusing  the  mental  labours 
 of  others ;  namely,  not  to  read  too  much, 
 and  to  pay  great  attention  to  the  nature 
 of  what  you  do  read.  Many  people  peruse 
 books  for  the  express  and  avowed  purpose 
 of  consuming  time;  and  this  class  of 
 readers  forms  by  far  the  majority  of  what 
 are  termed  the  "  reading  public."  Others 
 again  read  with  the  laudable  anxiety  of 
 being  made  wiser  ;  and  when  this  object 
 is  not  attained,  the  disappointment  may 
 generally  be  attributed,  either  to  the  habit 
 of  reading  too  much,  or  of  paying  in- 
 sufficient attention  to  what  falls  under 
 their  notice.  UlaJcey. 
 
 READING — Suggestiveness  in. 
 
 You  are  not  to  read  to  borrow  or  steal ; 
 but  you  may  read,  and  frequently  must, 
 for  suggestion  and  inspiration.  The  thing 
 sought,  is  not  what  you  will  get  out  of  the 
 author,  but  what  the  author  will  enable 
 you  to  find  in  yourselves.  A  word  or 
 thought,  a  metaphor  or  allusion,  will  excite 
 your  mind,  and  set  it  off  on  something 
 which  had  occurred  to  you,  or  on  some- 
 thing akin  to  it,  or  may  even  suggest 
 something  new  ;  and  you  will  thus  come 
 to  enrich  your  work,  or  to  adorn  and  per- 
 fect it,  with  some  conception  novel  to 
 yourselves,  which  you  had  not  thought  of, 
 which  the  author  you  were  reading  had 
 never  thought  of,  but  which,  nevertheless, 
 never  would  have  been  produced  but  for 
 
 the  spur  applied  to  your  invention  or 
 memory,  your  heart  or  imagination,  by 
 something  or  other  which  that  author 
 said.  The  thing  is  not  his,  but  yours  ;  yet 
 it  would  not  have  been  yours,  or  you  would 
 not  have  known  that  you  had  it,  or  could 
 create  it,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him.  This 
 is  one  of  the  great  secrets  of  authorship — 
 one  of  the  deepest  mysteries  of  the  craft ! 
 It  may  account  for  things  that  look  like 
 thefts ;  but  it  has  done  far  more  to  adorn 
 books  by  originality  than  it  ever  did  to 
 debase  them  by  imitation.  It  is  like  the 
 harp  and  hand  of  the  Hebrew  minstrel,  in 
 the  analogous  case  of  the  Hebrew  prophet. 
 The  external  operations  of  another's  skill 
 influenced  the  soul,  and  awoke  to  action 
 the  dormant  energies  of  the  gifted  seer. 
 The  sound  of  the  instrument  aroused  and 
 animated  the  prophetic  impulse ;  it  drew 
 forth  from  the  soul  it  touched  what  it  did 
 not  put  there,  but  what  would  not  have 
 come,  nevertheless,  but  for  the  external 
 stimulus  it  brought.  T.  Binny. 
 
 READING— Ways  of. 
 
 Some  men  read  authors  as  gentlemen  use 
 flowers,  only  for  delight  and  smell,  to 
 please  their  fancy  and  refine  their  taste. 
 Others,  like  the  bee,  extract  only  the 
 honey,  the  wholesome  precepts,  leaving 
 the  rest  as  of  little  value ;  in  reading  we 
 should  care  for  both,  though  for  the  last 
 the  most.  The  one  serves  to  instruct  the 
 mind,  the  other  fits  her  to  tell  what  she 
 hath  learned.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 REASON— Definition  of. 
 
 Reason  is  that  faculty  by  which,  fi-om 
 the  use  of  the  knowledge  obtained  by  the 
 other  faculties,  we  are  enabled  to  proceed 
 to  other  and  original  knowledge. 
 
 Wayland. 
 REASON— Insufficiency  of. 
 
 When  the  Parisians  set  up  a  naked 
 prostitute  as  the  goddess  of  reason,  they 
 can  hardly  have  been  aware  what  an  apt 
 type  she  afforded  of  tfieir  reason,  and  in- 
 deed  of  all  reason,  if  that  Divine  name  be 
 not  forfeited  by  such  a  traitorous  act — 
 which  turns  away  its  face  from  heaven, 
 and  throws  off  its  allegiance  to  the  truth 
 as  it  is  in  God.  When  Reason  has  done 
 this,  it  is  stark  naked,  and  ready  to  pros- 
 titute itself  to  every  capricious  lust, 
 whether  of  the  flesh  or  of  the  spirit.  One 
 can  never  repeat  too  often,  that  Reason, 
 as  it  exists  in  man,  is  only  our  intellectual 
 eye,  and  that,  like  the  eye,  to  see,  it  needs 
 light ;  to  see  clearly  and  far,  it  needs  the 
 light  of  heaven.  Hare. 
 
 REASON— without  Truth. 
 
 Polished  steel  will  not  shine  in  the  dark ; 
 no  more  can  reason,  however  refined,  shine 
 
REASON— REASON  AND  FAITH. 
 
 723 
 
 efficaciously  but  as  it  reflects  the  light  of 
 Divine  Truth— shed  from  heaven. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 REASON— Harmony  of  Truth  with. 
 
 Truth  needs  not  at  any  time  fly  from 
 reason,  there  being  an  eternal  unity 
 between  them.  They  are  only  some  private 
 dogmas,  that  may  well  be  suspected  as 
 spurious  and  adulterate,  that  dare  not 
 abide  the  trial  thereof.  And  this  reason 
 is  not  everywhere  so  extinguished  as  that 
 we  may  not,  by  that,  enter  into  the  souls 
 of  men.  What  the  magnetical  virtue  is 
 in  these  earthly  bodies,  that  reason  is  in 
 men's  minds,  which,  when  it  is  put  forth, 
 draws  them  one  to  another. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 REASON— Use  of. 
 
 His  reason  being  created  after  the  image 
 of  God,  man  has  to  use  it  to  discover  the 
 laws  by  which  the  Almighty  governs  His 
 creation,  and  by  making  these  laws  his 
 standard  of  action,  to  conquer  nature  to 
 use ;  himself  a  Divine  instrument. 
 
 Frince  Albert. 
 REASON  AND  FAITH. 
 
 There  are  two  lights  in  man,  as  in 
 heaven — reason  and  faith.  Eeasou,  like 
 Sarah,  is  still  asking,  "  How  can  this  be  ?" 
 Faith,  like  Abraham,  not  disputes,  but 
 believes.  There  is  no  validity  in  moral 
 virtues  ;  civil  men's  good  works  are  a  mere 
 carcase,  without  the  soul  of  faith. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 Faith  can  go  into  the  Old  Testament 
 and  run  as  high  as  Adam,  and  come  back 
 again  to  the  soul,  and  tell  the  soul, 
 I  have  seen  a  man  whom  God  hath 
 pardoned,  that  damned  all  the  world, 
 and  wliy  may  He  not  pardon  thee  ?  Faith 
 can  run  up  to  heaven  and  come  down 
 again  to  the  soul  and  say,  I  have  seen  the 
 glory  there  ;  be  of  good  comfort ;  there  is 
 enough  in  heaven  to  pay  for  all.  Faith 
 can  run  unto  God's  all-sufficiency,  to  God's 
 omnipoteucy,  and  having  viewed  that  well, 
 it  returns  to  the  soul  home  again,  and  says. 
 Be  quiet ;  thereisenough  in  God  alone.  And 
 Faith  having  seated  itself  upon  the  high 
 tower  and  mountain— God's  omnipotency 
 and  all-sufficiency — it  hath  a  great  pros- 
 pect, it  can  look  over  all  the  world,  and 
 look  into  another  world  too.  But  now 
 Eeasou  ;  it  gets  upon  some  little  mole- 
 hill of  creature  ability,  and  if  it  can  see 
 over  two  or  three  hedges  it  is  well.  And, 
 therefore,  oh,  what  a  pain  it  is  to  be  tied 
 to  Reason.  I  suppose  yviu  will  all  say  that 
 if  a  man  were  able  to  go  on  a  journey  of 
 two  or  three  hundred  miles  afoot,  he  were 
 a  very  good  footman ;  yet  if  you  will  tie 
 him  to  carry  a  child  of  four  or  five  years  old 
 w  ith  him,  you  will  say  it  w  ould  be  a  great 
 
 luggage  to  him ;  and  the  man  would 
 say,  "  Pray  let  this  child  be  left  at  home, 
 or  though  he  may  run  along  in  my  hand 
 half  a  mile,  or  go  a  mile  with  me,  yet  not- 
 withstanding, I  must  carry  him  the  rest 
 of  the  way  ;  and  when  I  come  at  any  great 
 water,  or  have  to  go  over  any  hill,  I  must 
 take  him  upon  my  back,  and  that  will  be 
 a  great  burden  to  me."  And  thus  it  is 
 between  Faith  and  Reason.  Reason  at  the 
 best  is  but  a  child  to  Faith.  Faith  can 
 foot  over  mountains  and  difficulties,  and 
 wade  through  afflictions,  though  they  be 
 very  wide,  but  when  Reason  comes  to  any 
 affliction,  to  wade  through  that,  and  to  go 
 over  some  great  difficulties,  then  it  cries 
 out,  and  says,  "  Oh,  Faith,  good  Faith,  go 
 back  again  :  good  Faith,  go  back  again  !" 
 "  No  !"  says  Faith,  "  but  I  will  take  thee 
 upon  my  back,  Reason."  And  so  Faith  is 
 fain  to  do  indeed — to  take  Reason  upon 
 its  back.  But  oh,  what  a  luggage  is 
 Reason  to  Faith  !  Faith  never  works 
 better  than  when  it  works  most  alone. 
 
 W.  Bridge. 
 
 The  eyes  of  Reason  are  the  eyes  of  nature, 
 and  the  eyes  of  nature  cannot  see  into 
 that  which  is  beyond  or  above  nature. 
 Reason  sees  from  nature  to  nature.  Faith 
 sees  from  God  to  God.  Reason  eyes  Di- 
 vine Truth  as  an  infant  an  egg,  viz.,  as  all 
 shell ;  Faith  pierces  the  shell  and  perceives 
 the  bird  of  paradise  abiding  its  time  with 
 folded  wings  and  closed  eyes  within  its 
 house  of  defence.  J.  Fuhford. 
 
 We  would  represent  Reason  and  Faith 
 as  twin-born  ;  the  one  in  form  and  features 
 the  image  of  manly  beauty — the  other,  of 
 feminine  grace  and  gentleness ;  but  to 
 each  of  whom,  alas  !  is  allotted  a  sad  pri- 
 vation. While  the  bright  eyes  of  Reason 
 are  full  of  piercing  and  restless  intelli- 
 gence, his  ear  is  closed  to  sound ;  and  while 
 Faith  has  an  ear  of  exquisite  delicacy  on 
 her  sightless  orbs  as  she  lifts  them  towards 
 heaven,  the  sunbeam  plays  in  vain.  Hand 
 in  hand  the  brother  and  sister,  in  all 
 mutual  love,  pursue  their  way,  through  a 
 world  on  which,  like  ours,  day  breaks  and 
 night  falls  alternate;  by  day  the  eyes  of 
 Reason  are  the  guide  of  Faith,  and  by  night 
 the  ear  of  Faith  is  the  guide  of  Reason. 
 As  is  wont  with  those  who  labour  under 
 these  privations  respectively.  Reason  is 
 apt  to  be  eager,  impetuous,  impatient  of 
 that  instruction  which  his  infirmity  w^ill 
 not  permit  him  readily  to  apprehend ; 
 while  Faith,  gentle  and  docile,  is  ever 
 willing  to  listen  to  the  voice  by  which 
 alone  truth  and  wisdom  can  eft'cctually 
 reach  her.  S.  Rogers. 
 
 REASON  AND  RELIGION. 
 
 We  will  not  give  up  Reason  to  stand 
 
724 
 
 REASON  AND  EELIGION— REDEMPTION. 
 
 always  as  a  priestess  at  the  altars  of  human 
 philosophy.  She  hath  a  more  majestic 
 temple  to  tread,  and  more  beauteous  robes 
 wherein  to  walk,  and  incense  rarer  and 
 more  fragrant  to  burn  in  golden  censers. 
 She  does  well  when  exploring  boldly 
 God's  visible  works.  She  does  better 
 when  she  meekly  submits  to  spiritual 
 teaching,  and  sits,  as  a  child,  at  the  Sa- 
 viour's feet ;  for  then  shall  she  experience 
 the  truth  that  "the  entrance  of  God's 
 words  giveth  light  and  understanding." 
 And,  therelbre,  be  ye  heedful— the  young 
 amongst  you  more  especially — that  ye  be 
 not  ashamed  of  piety,  as  though  it  argued 
 a  feeble  capacity.  Rather  be  assured  for- 
 asmuch as  revelation  is  the  great  strength- 
 ener  of  reason,  that  the  march  of  mind 
 which  leaves  the  Bible  in  the  rear,  is  an  ad- 
 vance like  that  of  our  first  parents  in  pa- 
 radise, towards  knowledge,  but,  at  the  same 
 time,  towards  death.  H.  Melvill. 
 
 REASONS— Worthless. 
 
 His  reasons  are  as  two  grains  of  wheat 
 
 hid  in  two  bushels  of  chaff';  you  shall  seek 
 
 all  day  ere  you  find  them  ;  and,  when  you 
 
 have  them,  they  are  not  worth  the  search. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 RECONCILIATION  WITH  GOD. 
 
 To  effect  this,  all  that  is  necessary  is  to 
 peysuade  the  sinner  to  cease  his  rebellion 
 and  submit  to  Him.  In  Christ  God  is 
 reconciled  to  the  sinner,  and  there  is  no 
 need  to  persuade  Him.  He  is  love,  the 
 sinner  is  enmity.  He  is  light,  the  sinner 
 is  darkness.  He  is  nigh  unto  the  sinner, 
 but  the  sinner  is  afar  off'  from  Him.  The 
 great  object  then  to  be  accomplished  is,  to 
 destroy  the  sinner's  enmity,  that  he  may 
 have  Divine  love;  bring  him  from  his 
 darkness  into  Divine  light;  bring  him 
 from  his  evil  works  nigh  unto  God,  and 
 reconciliation  is  the  result.  John  Bate. 
 
 RECREATION— Evils  of  the  Want  of. 
 Sweet  recreation  barr'd,  what  doth  ensue. 
 But  moody  and  dull  melancholy, 
 Kinsman  to  grim  and  comfortless  despair; 
 And  at  their  heels,  a  huge  infectious  troop 
 Of  pale  distemperatures  and  foes  to  life. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 REDEMPTION— All  Things  Centre  in. 
 
 Tiie  whole  system  of  things  around  us 
 seems  to  me  to  be  constituted  with  a  view- 
 to  redemption — which  comprehends  the 
 discipline  and  education  of  souls.  The 
 wilderness  was  there  waiting,  and  all  the 
 physical  order  of  the  world.  That  was 
 before  man  and  was  made  for  man.  And 
 it  is  all  set  to  the  same  key-note  of 
 struggle,  toil,  and  suffering.  There  is  not 
 a  bit  of  rock  or  a  blade  of  grass — there  has 
 not  been  from  the  creation — which  is  not 
 
 a  mute  memorial  of  struggle,  wounds,  and 
 death.  All  things  travail,  not  simply  be- 
 cause man  has  sinned,  but  because  the 
 redemption  of  the  sinner  is  the  work  for 
 which  "  the  all "  has  been  prepared  by  the 
 Lord.  When  the  Lord  looked  on  from 
 the  height  of  His  eternal  throne,  "  to  the 
 habitable  parts  of  the  earth,  and  His  de- 
 lights were  with  the  sons  of  men,"  was  it 
 Eden  which  He  looked  on  to  with  solemn 
 joy,  or  Calvary  ?  Wps  it  glad  intercourse 
 which  he  foresaw  with  the  loyal  and 
 loving  children  of  Paradise,  or  sad,  costly, 
 but  fruitful  communion  with  the  struggling, 
 suffering  children  of  the  wilderness  ?  Was 
 it  Eden,  or  Ararat,  Canaan,  Egypt,  Sinai, 
 Jerusalem,  Calvary,  and  Christendom,  that 
 His  glance  comprehended  ?  Was  it  the 
 fruit  of  Eden,  or  the  fruit  which  His  tears 
 and  blood  would  win  from  these,  that  He 
 then  set  before  His  sight  ?  Man  and  all 
 things  were  made  in  concert,  to  form  part 
 of  the  same  great  system,  of  which  man's 
 life  was  to  be  the  key-note,  and  man  him- 
 self was  to  be  the  head.  And  the  whole 
 system,  the  whole  structure  of  man  and  of 
 the  world,  is  moulded  to  be  the  theatre  of 
 the  redemption  of  the  sinner.  Not  in 
 Eden,  but  there  on  Calvary,  and  in  heaven, 
 which  is  the  child  of  Calvary,  we  see 
 realised  the  whole  idea  of  God. 
 
 /.  B.  Brown. 
 REDEMPTION— by  Blood. 
 
 "  Through  His  blood."  The  apostle  now 
 teaches  us  that  this  satisfaction  is  espe- 
 cially by  the  blood  of  Christ,  that  is,  by 
 His  death  upon  the  cross,  when  He  poured 
 out  His  heart's  blood,  as  the  last  and 
 greatest  act  of  His  mediatorial  work  on 
 earth,  and  "  brought  in  eternal  redemption 
 for  us."  The  Scriptures  constantly  give  a 
 prominence  to  this  part  of  our  Lord's 
 humiliation  and  bitter  suff'erings.  We  are 
 not  said  to  be  redeemed  by  His  incar- 
 nation, by  His  birth,  by  His  miracles,  by 
 His  doctrine,  not  even  by  His  agony  in  the 
 garden,  though  all  these  were  necessary  to 
 the  ransom — but  by  Sis  blood :  "  Whom 
 God  hath  set  forth  for  a  propitiation 
 through  faith  in  His  blood,"  &c. 
 
 Bj}.  D.  Wilson. 
 REDEMPTION— loss  of. 
 
 There  are  sometimes  rare  and  beautiful 
 wares  brought  into  the  market  that  are 
 invoiced  at  almost  fabulous  rates.  Igno- 
 rant people  wonder  why  they  are  priced  so 
 high.  The  simple  reason  is  that  they  cost 
 so  much  to  procure.  That  luxurious  article 
 labelled  £200  was  procured  by  the  adven- 
 turous hunter,  who,  at  the  hazard  of  his 
 neck,  brought  down  the  wild  mountain 
 goat,  out  of  whose  glossy  hair  the  fabric 
 was  wrought.  Yonder  pearl  that  flashes 
 on  the  brow  of  the  bi-ide  is  precious,  be- 
 cause it  was  rescued  from  the  great  deep 
 
EEDEMPTION— REDEEMER. 
 
 725 
 
 at  the  risk  of  the  pearl-fisher's  life,  as  he 
 was  lifted  into  the  boat  half  dead,  with  the 
 blood  gushing  from  his  nostrils.  Yonder 
 ermine,  flung  so  carelessly  over  the  proud 
 beauty's  shoulder,  cost  terrible  battles  with 
 polar  ice  and  hurricane.  All  choicest 
 things  are  reckoned  the  dearest.  So  is  it, 
 too,  in  heaven's  inventories.  The  universe 
 of  God  has  never  witnessed  aught  to  be 
 reckoned  in  comparison  with  the  redemp- 
 tion of  a  guilty  world.  That  mighty 
 ransom  no  such  contemptible  things  as 
 silver  and  gold  could  procure.  Only  by 
 one  price  could  the  Church  ol  God  be  re- 
 deemed from  hell,  and  that  the  precious 
 blood  of  the  Lamb — the  Lamb  without 
 blemish  or  spot — the  Lamb  slain  from  the 
 foundation  of  the  world.  T.  Cuyler. 
 
 REDEMPTION— Definition  of. 
 
 Redemption  is  the  payment  of  a  price, 
 in  order  to  liberate  a  captive.  This  idea 
 attaches  to  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  The 
 redemption  is  twofold — virtual  and  actual. 
 Virtual  redemption  is  redemption  by  price. 
 Actual  redemption  is  redemption  in  fact; 
 a  claiming  of  the  captive.  With  respect 
 to  the  human  spirit  the  redemption  is 
 actual  as  well  as  virtual.  In  this  world 
 we  are  redeemed  from  the  power  of  sin, 
 Satan,  and  the  hands  of  justice.  The  re- 
 demption of  the  body  is  not  actual,  but 
 only  virtual ;  but  a  time  will  come  when 
 it  will  be  actually  delivered,  when  the 
 captives  of  the  grave  shall  be  claimed. 
 
 J2.  Watson. 
 REDEMPTION— Explained. 
 
 "  In  whom  we  have  redemption."  This 
 explains  the  particular  nature  of  the  de- 
 liverance from  the  kingdom  of  darkness 
 before  spoken  of.  It  was  not  a  mere  rescue, 
 as  a  slave  liberated  by  the  compassion  of 
 his  master ;  nor  as  of  a  debtor  set  free  at 
 his  earnest  entreaties  by  his  creditor  and 
 lord,  as  in  the  parable  of  the  ten  thousand 
 talents;  nor  was  it  accomplished  by  the 
 exertion  of  force  only,  as  Abraham  delivered 
 Lot,  and  David  his  followers  from  the 
 Amalekites  at  Ziklag. 
 
 But  this  deliverance  from  Satan's  domi- 
 nion is  a  redemption,  something  purchased 
 back,  a  rescue  by  a  ransom  price  paid 
 down.  It  imijlies  a  valuable  consideration, 
 as  it  \v  ere,  first  given  ;  a  full  discharge  of 
 all  that  was  due  to  the  law,  righteousness, 
 and  truth  of  God,  by  a  substitute  or  surety, 
 "  a  daysman  coming  between"  the  offended 
 Majesty  of  heaven  and  us,  and  making  a 
 perfect  satisfaction  to  Divine  Justice  on 
 our  behalf.  "  Christ"  hath  in  this  manner, 
 and  no  other,  "redeemed us  from  the  curse 
 of  the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for  as." 
 
 Bp.  D.  Wilson. 
 REDEMPTION— Extent  of. 
 
 The  redemption  of  Christ  reaches  in  its 
 
 merciful  contrivances  and  purposes  to  all 
 mankind.  In  support  of  this  view  con- 
 cerning redemption,  you  may  collect  a  large 
 body  oi  iiresumptive  arguments,  drawn,  for 
 example,  from  the  universal  ruin  of  the 
 human  race  by  sin, — the  impartiality  of 
 God, — and  the  mighty  efficacy  of  our 
 Siiviour's  meritorious  death  ; — of  direct 
 arguments,  founded  on  the  many  declara- 
 tions of  Scripture,  in  which  every  form  of 
 universality  is  employed  to  show  that 
 Clirist  "  gave  Himself  a  ransom  for  all," 
 that  "  He  by  grace  of  God  tasted  death 
 for  every  man,"  and  that  He  is  the  "  pro- 
 pitiation for  the  sins  of  the  lohole  world  ,-" 
 — and  of  incidental  and  auxiliary  argu- 
 ments, such  as  may  be  deduced,  for  in- 
 stance, from  the  benefits  which  are  actually 
 conferred,  for  the  sake  of  Christ's  obe- 
 dience unto  death,"  on  many  who  un- 
 happily reject  the  offers  of  His  saving 
 mercy — from  the  possibility,  as  St.  Paul 
 repeatedly  and  strongly  intimates,  of  their 
 "  perishing  for  whom  Christ  died," — and 
 perhaps  also  from  the  final  resurrection  of 
 all  the  dead,  which  is,  in  itself,  an  in- 
 dubitable result  of  the  provision  of  redemp- 
 tion. Dr.  Hannah. 
 
 REDEMPTION— God's  Character  in. 
 
 God's  character,  like  the  pure  light  of 
 day,  is  one  uniform  and  unbroken  mass  of 
 light.  But  when  we  take  the  prism,  and 
 divide  the  rays,  we  are  surprised  with  their 
 variety  and  brilliancy,  and  wonder  how 
 they  should  all  thus  harmoniously  unite. 
 By  revelation  we  see  how  God's  justice  and 
 mercy.  His  holiness  and  truth,  are  each 
 distinct  attributes  of  the  Godhead ;  by 
 redemption  we  behold,  and  wonder  at,  their 
 gracious  union.  G.  S.  Bowes. 
 
 REDEEMER— Longing  for  a. 
 
 The  worth  of  the  unspeakable  gift  which 
 in  Christ  is  ours,  is  wonderfully  testified 
 by  the  fact  that  all  should  have  been  in 
 one  way  or  another  either  asking  for  that 
 gift,  or  fancying  that  they  had  gotten  it, 
 or  mourning  its  departure,  or  providing 
 substitutes  for  it.  For  however  in  the  one 
 elect  people,  as  the  bearers  of  the  Divine 
 promises,  as  the  central  heart  of  the 
 spiritual  world,  as  the  appointed  inter- 
 preters to  the  rest  of  their  blind  desires, 
 this  longing  after  a  Redeemer  came  out  in 
 greater  clearness  and  in  greater  strength, 
 and  with  no  troubling  disturbing  elements 
 — their  education  being  far  moi-e  directly 
 from  God,  and  being  expressly  aimed  at 
 the  quickening  of  these  longing  to  the 
 highest — yet  were  those  longings  them- 
 selves not  exclusively  theii-s.  They,  in- 
 deed, yearned,  and  knew  what  they 
 yearned  for ;  the  nations  yearued,  and 
 knew  not  for  what.  But  still  they  yearned  ; 
 for  as  the  earth  iu  its  long  polar  night 
 
726 
 
 REFINEMENT— EEGENERATION. 
 
 seeks  to  supply  tlie  absence  of  the  day  by 
 the  generation  of  the  Northern  Lights,  so 
 does  each  people  in  the  long  night  of  its 
 heathen  darkness  bring  forth  in  its  yearn- 
 ing after  the  life  of  Christ,  a  faii.v.  and 
 glimmering  substitute  for  the  same.  From 
 these  dreamy  longings  after  the  break  of 
 day  have  proceeded  oracles,  priests,  sacri- 
 fices, lawgivers,  and  the  like.  Men  have 
 nowhere  given  up  hoping ;  nor  acquiesced 
 in  the  world's  evil  as  the  world's  law. 
 Everywhere  they  have  had  a  tradition  of 
 a  time  when  they  were  nearer  to  God  than 
 now,  a  confident  hope  of  a  time  when 
 they  should  be  brought  nearer  again. 
 
 Archbisliop  Trench. 
 
 REFINEMENT— without  Religion. 
 
 Refinement  is  one  of  the  outworkings  of 
 faith  in  the  spiritual.  It  is  the  lifting  of 
 one's  self  upwards  from  the  merely  sensual, 
 the  eff"ort  of  the  soul  to  etherealise  the 
 common  wants  and  uses  of  life.  A  really 
 refined  man  who  ignores  Christianity  is  a 
 creature  to  beget  wonder.  A  maia  whose 
 sense  of  colour  is  so  exquisite  that  one 
 wrong  shade  cannot  escape  his  eye,  that 
 harmony  of  hues  is  his  soul's  delight,  I 
 marvel  that  that  man's  eye  has  never 
 pierced  the  blue,  and  caught  the  sparkle  of 
 the  gems  that  glow  with  matchless  dyes 
 upon  the  gates  of  the  eternal  city.  A  man 
 whose  ear  is  all  attuned  to  melody,  who 
 has  brought  music  to  its  highest  earthly 
 perfection,  and  stands  entranced  by  the 
 sweetness  of  its  passing  tones,  I  marvel 
 that  he  never  hears  the  ringing  of  the 
 harps  of  heaven.  And  he  who  has  lifted 
 his  affections  until  no  touch  of  grossness 
 ever  defiles  them,  who  has  made  them  pure 
 as  crystal  from  the  taint  of  life's  vulgarity, 
 I  marvel,  more  and  more,  that  along  their 
 edges  plays  no  fire  from  the  celestial 
 treasury  of  love — that  as  the  lightning 
 from  the  earth  leaps  forth  and  joins  and 
 mingles  with  the  lightning  from  the  cloud, 
 his  love  is  not  touched  and  intensified  by 
 the  love  of  God.  What  rapine !  what 
 havoc !  when  such  an  one — his  life  being 
 touched — goes  forth,  naked  and  alone,  to 
 find  that  he  has  stopped  infinitely  short  of 
 any  preparation  which  could  make  the 
 happiness  of  heaven  possible  to  him. 
 
 M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 REFLECTION— Act  of. 
 
 Within  the  deep 
 Still  chambers  of  the  heart,  a  spectre  dim, 
 Whose  tones  are  like  the  wizard  voice  of 
 
 time, 
 Heard  from  the  tomb  of  ages,  points  its 
 
 cold 
 And  solemn  finger  to  the  beautiful 
 And  holy  visions  that  have  passed  away, 
 And  left  no  shadow  of  their  loveliness 
 On  the  dead  waste  of  life.    Q.  D.  Prentice. 
 
 REFLECTION— Definition  of. 
 
 The  operation  of  the  mind  by  which  it 
 turns  its  views  back  upon  itself  and  its 
 operations ;  the  review  or  reconsideration 
 of  past  thoughts,  opinions,  or  decisions  of 
 the  mind,  or  of  past  events.  Webster. 
 
 REFLECTION— Necessity  of. 
 
 A  soul  without  reflection,  like  a  pile 
 Without  inhabitants,  to  ruin  runs. 
 
 Young. 
 
 REFLECTION  AND  FANCY. 
 
 Reflection  sternlj^eonsiderethjnoris  sparing 
 
 to  condemn  evil; 
 But  fancy  lightly  laugheth,  in  the  sun-clad 
 
 garden  of  amusement.  Tupper. 
 
 REFLECTION  AND  REVERIE. 
 
 Reflection  is  a  flower  of  the  mind,  giving 
 
 out  wholesome  fragrance ; 
 But  reverie  is  the  same  flower  when  rank 
 
 and  running  to  seed.  Ibid. 
 
 REGENERATION— Beginning  of 
 
 In  the  creation  of  man  God  began  at 
 the  outside ;  but  in  the  work  of  regenera- 
 tion. He  fii-st  begins  within — at  the  heart. 
 JBunyan. 
 
 REGENERATION— Definitiop  of. 
 
 It  is  that  mighty  change  in  man  wrought 
 by  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  which  the  dominion 
 which  sin  has  over  him  in  his  natural  state, 
 and  which  he  deplores  and  struggles 
 against  iu  his  present  state,  is  broken  and 
 abolished,  so  that  with  full  choice  of  will, 
 and  the  energy  of  right  afl'ection,  he  serves 
 God  freely,  and  runs  in  the  way  of  His 
 commandments.  H.  Watson. 
 
 Regeneration  is  that  mighty  change 
 whereby  a  natural  man  is  made  a  spiritual 
 or  a  new  man  ;  and  he  that  was  a  child  of 
 the  devil,  becomes  by  grace  a  child  of  God. 
 For,  as  by  our  natural  birth  we  are  made 
 in  the  likeness  of  fallen  Adam,  called  "the 
 old  man,"  the  first  man  ;  so,  by  this  spiri- 
 tual birth,  we  become  "new  creatures," 
 spiritual  men,  and  sons  of  God  in  Jesus 
 Christ,  the  second  Adam.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 REGENERATION— Description  of. 
 
 Regeneration  is  neither  more  nor  less 
 than  what  I  may  call  elementary  or  inci- 
 pient sanctification.  It  is  the  implanta- 
 tion of  those  23rinciples  in  the  mind,  and  of 
 those  affections  in  the  heai't,  of  which  the 
 more  full  development  constitutes  a  sanc- 
 tified character,  the  character  of  a  saint. 
 This  might  be  illustrated  from  the  very 
 case  in  nature  that  furnishes  the  figure. 
 The  infant  born  into  the  world  is  the  man 
 in  miniature.  All  the  parts  of  the  body, 
 and  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  are  there 
 in  embryo.     So  the  regenerated  sinner  is 
 
REGENERATIOir. 
 
 r27 
 
 the  saint  in  embryo.  The  new  principles 
 are  there,  the  new  affections  are  thei'e,  the 
 saint  is  there,  but  in  infancy. 
 
 Dr.  Wardlaw. 
 
 REaENERATION— Nature  and  Means  of. 
 
 But  is  there  any  way  by  wliich  the  wild 
 olive  can  be  converted  into  the  fruitful  ; 
 or  any  process  in  the  natural  world  which 
 demonstrates  the  possibility  of  such  a 
 change  ?  Most  assuredly  there  is.  And 
 how  ?  It  is  not  by  subjecting  the  wild 
 olive  to  the  pruning-knife  of  the  husband- 
 man; nor  by  transplanting  it  into  a  soil 
 richly  cultivated ;  nor  by  making  the  ferti- 
 lising influences  of  heaven  to  descend  upon 
 it.  Its  natural  condition,  or  its  essential 
 qualities,  will  never  be  materially  altered 
 by  any  appliances  of  that  kind,  however 
 carefully  observed,  and  however  long  con- 
 tinued. And  though  the  fruit  may  be 
 rendered  n)ore  abundant  than  before,  it 
 will  still  be  the  fruit  of  a  corrupt  tree. 
 It  is  contrary  to  the  laws  of  the  physical 
 ■world  that  it  can  be  otherwise. 
 
 But  if  you  take  a  branch,  and  cut  it  off 
 from  the  wild  olive,  and  engraft  it  into  a 
 good  olive  tree, — a  tree  which  is  distin- 
 guished for  its  fatness,  and  which  brings 
 forth  precious  fruit,  then  what  is  the  re- 
 sult ?  To  adojjt  the  significant  language 
 of  the  Bible  it  is  regenerated.  It  becomes 
 like  a  new  creation.  Old  things  are  passed 
 away,  and  all  things  become  new.  And 
 though  it  may  retain  somewhat  of  its 
 ancient  and  original  characteristics,  never- 
 theless it  is  a  different  kind  of  sap  that  is 
 now  flowing  through  its  veins, — a  different 
 kind  of  blossom  that  is  bursting  forth  from 
 its  foliage, — a  different  kind  of  fruit  that 
 is  gathered  from  its  branches.  In  fact, 
 there  is  a  species  of  conversion.  The 
 noxious  is  turned  into  the  fruitful,  and 
 that  which,  by  itself,  or  in  its  own  nature, 
 was  useless,  or  worse  than  useless,  which 
 was  positively  pernicious,  by  being  incor- 
 porated with  a  precious  or  a  fruit-bearing 
 tree,  is  transformed  into  its  likeness,  and 
 imbibes  its  virtuous  qualities,  and  is  pro- 
 ductive of  its  very  fruit. 
 
 So  it  is  with  the  regeneration  of  the 
 sinner.  By  himself,  or  so  long  as  he  re- 
 mains in  his  natural  condition,  he  is  like  a 
 wild  olive  tree.  He  brings  forth  iniquity, 
 and  nothing  else ;  for  such  is  his  nature ; 
 and  that  nature  can  never  be  altered  by 
 anything  which  he  can  do  for  himself.  He 
 may  lop  off  some  of  the  straggling  branches, 
 or  devote  himself  to  the  accomplishment 
 of  something  like  an  external  reformation. 
 But  that  will  never  change  the  nature  of 
 the  tree,  or  make  any  alteration  in  the 
 quality  of  the  fruit.  But  when  he  is  en- 
 grafted into  Christ,  he  acquires  a  new 
 nature,  and  so  becomes  fruitful  in  good 
 works, — fruitful,  not  because  of  any  virtue 
 
 that  is  inherent  in  himself,  but  because 
 of  the  virtue  which  appertains  to  Christ, 
 in  whom  it  hath  pleased  the  Father  that 
 all  fulness  should  dwell,  and  which,  being 
 drawn  forth  and  imbibed  through  the  exer- 
 cise of  a  true  faith,  transforms  him  into 
 the  likeness  of  the  Divine  image,  and  con- 
 verts him  into  a  tree  of  righteousness,  the 
 planting  of  the  Lord,  that  He  might  be 
 glorified.  Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 REGENERATION— Necessary  for  alL 
 
 A  tbistle-.see^^  would  not  bring  forth  a 
 rose-bush  without  a  change  in  its  nature, 
 any  more  than  a  thistle  groion  would  bear 
 roses  without  a  change.  No  more  will  a 
 child  in  whom  the  seed  of  sin  dwells  grow 
 up  in  the  nature  and  love  of  God,  without 
 regeneration,  any  more  than  the  growing 
 young-man  sinner,  and  the  full-developed 
 sinner.  One  is  as  necessary  as  the  other, 
 and  calls  for  the  same  power  from  above 
 to  accomplish  it.  John  Bate. 
 
 REGENERATION— Necessity  of. 
 
 Regeneration  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
 qualify  you  for  heaven.  None  go  to 
 heaven  but  they  that  are  made  meet  for  it 
 (Col.  i,  12).  As  it  was  with  Solomon's  temple 
 (1  Kings  vi,  7),  so  it  is  with  the  temple 
 above.  It  is  "  built  of  stone,  made  ready 
 before  it  is  brought  thither,"  namely,  of 
 "lively  stones"  (1  Pet.  ii,  5),  "wrought 
 for  the  selfsame  thing  (2  Cor.  v,  5) ;  for 
 they  cannot  be  laid  in  that  glorious  build- 
 ing just  as  they  came  out  of  the  quarry 
 of  depraved  nature.  Jewels  of  gold  are 
 not  meet  for  swine,  and  far  less  jewels  of 
 glory  for  unrenewed  sinners.  Beggars  in 
 their  rags  are  not  meet  for  kings'  houses, 
 nor  sinners  to  "  enter  into  the  king's 
 palace,"  without  the  "raiment  of  needle- 
 work" (Ps.  xliv,  14,  15).  What  wise  man 
 would  bring  fishes  out  of  the  water  to  feed 
 on  his  meadows?  Or  send  his  oxen  to 
 feed  in  the  sea?  Even  as  little  are  the 
 unregenerated  meet  for  heaven,  or  is  heaven 
 meet  for  them.  Boston. 
 
 REGENERATION— a  New  Creation. 
 
 In  passing  from  nature  to  grace  you  did 
 not  pass  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  stage  of 
 the  same  condition — from  daybreak  to 
 sunshine,  but  from  darkest  night  to  dawn 
 of  day.  Unlike  the  worm  which  changes 
 into  a  winged  insect,  or  the  infant  who 
 grows  up  into  a  stately  man,  you  became, 
 not  a  more  perfect,  but  a  "  neio  creature" 
 in  Jesus  Ciirist.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 REGENERATION— Thorough. 
 
 Regeneration  is  a  thorough  real  change 
 (2  Cor.  V,  17).  The  Lord  God  makes  the 
 creature  a  new  creature,  as  the  goklsmitli 
 melts  down  the  vessel  of  dishonour,  and 
 makes  it  a  vessel  of  honour.    Man  is  in 
 
728 
 
 EEJOICING— RELIGION. 
 
 respect  of  his  spiritual  state  altogether 
 disjointed  by  the  tall ;  every  faculty  of  the 
 soul  is,  as  it  were,  dislocated ;  in  regenera- 
 tion the  Lord  looseth  every  joint,  and  sets 
 it  right  again.  Boston. 
 
 It  is  a  change  of  qualities  or  disposition. 
 It  is  not  a  change  of  the  substance,  but  of 
 the  qualities  of  the  soul. 
 
 It  is  a  supernatural  change ;  he  that  is 
 born  again,  is  born  of  the  Spirit. 
 
 It  is  a  change  into  the  likeness  of  God 
 (2  Cor.  iii,  18).  Everything  that  generates, 
 generates  its  like.  The  child  bears  the 
 image  of  the  parent;  and  they  that  are 
 born  of  God,  bear  God's  image. 
 
 It  is  a  universal  change ;  all  things  be- 
 come new  (2  Cor.  v,  17).  It  is  a  blest 
 leaven,  that  leavens  the  whole  lump,  the 
 whole  spirit,  and  soul,  and  body.  .  .  .  One 
 gets  not  only  a  new  head  to  know  religion, 
 or  a  new  tongue  to  talk  of  it ;  but  a  new 
 heart  to  love  and  embrace  it.  When  the 
 Lord  opens  the  sluice  of  grace  on  the  soul's 
 new  birthday,  the  waters  run  through  the 
 whole  man,  to  purify  and  make  him  fruit- 
 fuL  Ibid. 
 
 EEJOICING— Christian. 
 
 Rejoice  with  a  rejoicing  universe.  Re- 
 joice with  the  morning  stars,  and  let  your 
 adoring  spirit  march  to  the  music  of 
 hymning  spheres.  Rejoice  with  the  jocund 
 spring  in  its  gush  of  hope,  and  its  dancing 
 glory,  with  its  swinging  insect-clouds  and 
 its  suffusion  of  multitudinous  song;  and 
 rejoice  with  golden  autumn,  as  he  rustles 
 his  grateful  sheaves,  and  clasps  his  purple 
 hands,  as  he  breathes  his  story  of  fruition, 
 his  anthem  of  promises  fulfilled;  as  he 
 breathes  it  softly  in  the  morning  stillness 
 of  ripened  fields,  or  flings  it  in  J<}oliau 
 sweeps  from  lavish  orchards  and  from 
 branches  tossing  bounty  into  mellow  winds. 
 Rejoice  with  infancy,  as  it  guesses  its  won- 
 dering way  into  more  and  more  existence, 
 and  laughs  and  carols  as  the  field  of  pleasant 
 life  enlarges  on  it,  and  new  secrets  of  de- 
 light flow  in  through  fresh  and  open  senses. 
 Rejoice  with  the  second  youth  of  the 
 heaven-born  soul,  as  the  revelations  of  a 
 second  birth  pour  in  upon  it,  and  the 
 glories  of  a  new  world  amaze  it.  Rejoice 
 with  the  joyful  believer  when  he  sings, 
 "O  Lord!  I  will  praise  Thee;  though 
 Thou  wast  angi-y  with  me,  Thine  anger  is 
 turned,  away,  and  Thou  comfortedst  me. 
 Behold,  God  is  my  salvation."  Rejoice 
 with  him  whose  incredulous  ecstasy  has 
 alighted  on  tiie  great  Gospel-secret,  whose 
 eye  is  beaming  as  none  can  beam  save  that 
 which  for  the  first  time  beholds  the  Lamb ; 
 whose  awe-struck  countenance  and  uplifted 
 hands  are  evidently  exclaiming,  "This  is 
 my  beloved,  and  this  is  my  friend."  Re- 
 joice with  saints  and  angels,  as  they  rejoice 
 
 in  a  sight  like  this.  Rejoice  with  Im- 
 manuel,  whose  soul  now  sees  of  its  travail. 
 Rejoice  with  the  ever  blessed  Three,  and 
 with  a  heaven  whose  work  is  joy.  "  Be 
 glad  in  the  Lord,  and  rejoice  ye  righteous ; 
 and  shout  for  joy,  all  ye  that  are  upright 
 in  heart."  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 REJOICING— Every  Day. 
 
 The  Kalendar  of  the  sinner  has  only  a 
 few  days  in  the  year  marked  as  festival 
 days ;  but  every  day  of  the  Christian's  Ka- 
 lendar is  marked  by  the  hand  of  God  as 
 a  day  of  rejoicing.  Anon. 
 
 RELIGION— ArtificiaL 
 
 When  Archdeacon  Hare  first  visited 
 Rome,  some  of  his  Protestant  friends,  it  is 
 said,  who  knew  his  love  of  art  and  the  per- 
 sonal sympathy  which  he  had  with  the 
 Eteinal  City,  trembled  for  the  effect  it 
 might  produce  upon  his  mind.  These 
 fears  were  groundless.  Rome  was  all  and 
 more  than  all  he  had  imagined.  But  the 
 splendid  vision  left  him  a  stronger  Pro- 
 testant than  it  found  him.  "I  saw  the 
 pope,"  he  used  to  say,  "  apparently  kneel- 
 ing in  prayer  for  mankind ;  but  the  legs 
 that  kneeled  were  artificial;  he  was  in  his 
 chair."  Was  not  that  sight  enough  to 
 counteract  ali  the  sesthetical  impressions 
 of  the  worship,  if  they  had  been  a  hundred 
 times  stronger  than  they  were  ? 
 
 Thus  it  is  with  Romanism,  with  all  mere 
 ritualism  and  other  formalism — the  legs 
 which  kneel  are  artificial.  In  that  charac- 
 teristic symbol,  the  moral  and  mystery  of 
 the  whole  system  comes  out.  Anon. 
 
 RELIGION— Central  Force  of. 
 
 Where  a  spirit  of  religion  is,  there  is 
 the  central  force  of  heaven  itself,  quicken- 
 ing and  enlivening  those  that  are  informed 
 by  it,  in  their  motions  towards  heaven. 
 Plutarch  hath  well  observed, — "  Every 
 nature,  in  this  world,  hath  some  proper 
 centre  to  which  it  is  always  hastening." 
 Sin  and  wickedness  do  not  hover  a  little 
 over  the  bottomless  pit  of  hell,  and  only 
 flutter  about  it;  but  it  is  continually  sink- 
 ing lower  and  lower  into  it.  Neither  docs 
 true  grace  make  some  feeble  essays  towards 
 heaven;  but,  by  a  mighty  energy  within 
 itself,  it  is  always  soaring  up  higher  and 
 higher  into  heaven.  John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION —Changing. 
 
 Every  variation  from  unity  is  a  step  to 
 nullity;  and  when  men  go  from  one  re- 
 ligion to  all,  they  are  in  a  ready  way  to  go 
 from  all  to  none.  Venning. 
 
 RELIGION— Cherishing. 
 
 The  little  infant,  cherishgd  by  the  mother 
 and  blessed  by  God,  will  become  a  man 
 strong  and  useful.     The  little  plant,   tul- 
 
RELIGION. 
 
 729 
 
 turned  by  the  gardener,  and  fostered  by 
 nature,  will  advance  to  perfection,  and 
 bear  much  fruit.  So  your  religion,  though 
 small,  if  cherished  by  you,  and  blest  of  the 
 Spirit,  will  strengthen  and  develop,  until 
 it  permeates  and  covers  your  entire  being. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION — Conscience  no  Judge  in. 
 
 When  a  man  performeth  that  which  his 
 judgment  calls  upon  him  to  do,  he  hnds 
 great  serenity  of  mind,  and  is  like  the 
 upper  region,  wherein  turbulent  meteors 
 make  no  confusion  ;  so  that  you  must  never 
 judge  of  the  truth  of  any  way  in  religion, 
 by  the  comfort  and  peace  of  conscience  you 
 find  therein ;  for  all  Turks,  Jews,  papists, 
 and  heretics,  have  much  quietness  of  con- 
 science in  discharging  that  traditional  re- 
 ligion they  are  brought  up  in,  and  would 
 be  much  troubled  in  conscience  to  deny  or 
 apostatise  from  their  way,  until  their  con- 
 science be  rectified  out  of  Gods  Word. 
 
 Anthony  Bitrgcss. 
 
 RELIGION— Conscience  Misled  in. 
 
 It  is  a  woeful  thing  to  have  a  misled  con- 
 science in  relit:  ion  ;  it  accounts  the  grossest 
 idolatory  accoptable  service,  and  the  most 
 bloody  cruelty  acceptable  and  godly  zeal ; 
 so  that  you  see  a  zealous  man  following  his 
 conscience,  may,  like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  run 
 madly  on  towards  hell,  and  the  more  fierce 
 he  is  the  more  desperate.  Hid. 
 
 With  conscience  misled  in  religion,  we 
 have  Ivuown  men  denounce  all  others  who 
 did  not  conforjn  to  their  creed  and  their 
 ceremonies.  We  have  known  them  sacri- 
 fice time,  money,  almost  life,  to  support 
 their  church  against  others,  because  they 
 did  not  walk  in  their  way.  We  have  read 
 of  persecution,  oppression,  confiscation,  &c., 
 brought  about  by  popes,  kings,  bishops, 
 because  of  conscience ;  which  was  as  far 
 from  the  truth  as  their  doings  were  from 
 mercy  and  love.  John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Constrained. 
 
 The  religion  of  some  people  is  con- 
 strained ;  tliey  are  like  people  who  use  the 
 cold  bath,  not  for  pleasure,  but  necessity 
 and  their  health ;  they  go  in  with  re- 
 luctance, and  are  glad  when  they  get  out. 
 But  religion  to  a  true  believer  is  like  water 
 to  a  fish  ;  it  is  his  element,  he  lives  in  it, 
 and  he  could  not  live  out  of  it.    /.  Newton, 
 
 RELIGION— Counterfeit. 
 
 One  good  sovereign  is  worth  a  thousand 
 counterfeits,  however  dim  the  one  and 
 brilliant  the  other.  One  good,  sound, 
 fruitful  tree  in  an  orchard,  is  by  far  more 
 valuable  than  scores  of  trees  which  may  have 
 form,  but  no  .soundness  and  fruit.  So  one 
 genuine  Chi'istian  is  worth  a  thousand  hy- 
 
 pocrites. One  acceptable  prayer  to  God 
 tloes  more  than  a  million  that  are  rejected, 
 however  simple,  broken,  and  unpolished 
 the  one,  and  however  beautiful  and  logical 
 the  other.  John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Definition  of, 
 
 I  begin  to  see  that  religion  consists  not 
 so  much  in  joyous  feelings  as  in  a  constant 
 exercise  of  devotedness  to  God,  and  in 
 laying  ourselves  out  for  the  good  of  others. 
 Stewart. 
 RELIGION— Difficulties  in. 
 
 Men  do  not  refuse  to  cross  the  ocean 
 because  of  storms ;  or  to  travel  by  rail 
 because  of  accidents  ;  or  to  enter  into  busi- 
 ness because  of  losses ;  or  to  fight  in  the 
 battle-field  because  of  tire,  cannons,  swords, 
 deaths  ;  or  to  study  science  and  philosophy 
 because  of  mysteries :  nor  should  men 
 object  to  the  study  and  practice  of  religion, 
 because  of  the  various  difficulties  which 
 may  stand  connected  with  it.      John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Dignity  of. 
 
 High  on   the   world,  see   where   Keligion 
 
 stands. 
 And  bears  the  open  Volume  in  her  hands  ! 
 With  eyes  upraised,  she  seeks  for  heavenly 
 
 light. 
 To  know  its  doctrines  and  its  laws  aright ; 
 The  cross  of  Christ  she  bears,  and  walks 
 
 abroad, 
 And   holds   communion  with  her   Father 
 
 God. 
 Thus  with  the  Christian  ;  filled  with  love 
 
 Divine, 
 Above   the  world    he   soars  in    heavenly 
 
 clime, 
 The  sacred  cross  his  only  hope  and  stay, 
 The  Book  of  Truth  his  guide  from  day  to 
 
 day.  W.  Holmes. 
 
 RELIGION— not  Exacting. 
 
 Religion  is  no  more  exacting  than  phi- 
 losophy. Far  from  prescribing  to  the 
 virtuous  man  any  sacrifice  that  he  could 
 regret,  it  spreads  a  secret  charm  tipon  its 
 requirements,  and  secures  him  two  inesti- 
 mable advantages — profound  peace  during 
 life  and  sweet  hope  at  the  moment  of  death. 
 Anon. 
 RELIGION— Excellence  of. 
 
 Eeligion,  which  is  the  true  wisdom,  is, 
 as  the  author  of  the  book  uf  Wisdom  speaks 
 of  wisdom,  "a  pure  infiueuce  flowing  from 
 the  glory  of  the  Almighty,  the  brightness 
 of  the  everlasting  light,  the  unspotted  mir- 
 ror of  the  power  of  God,  and  the  image  of 
 His  goodness  ;  she  is  more  beautiful  than 
 the  sun,  and  above  all  the  order  of  the 
 stars  ;  being  compared  with  the  light,  she 
 is  found  before  it"  (Wisd.  vii.  25). 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
730 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 KELIGION— Excellence  of. 
 
 Herein  consists  the  excellency  and  very 
 essence  of  religion — in  exalting  the  soul, 
 in  drawing  it  back  from  mixing  with  the 
 creature,  and  in  bringing  it  into  subjection 
 under  God,  the  first  and  only  good ;  in 
 uniting  it  to  its  proper  object  in  making 
 that  which  was  the  breath  of  God  breathe 
 nothing  but  God.  Anthony  Farindon. 
 
 Religion  is  not  like  the  prophet's  roll, 
 sweet  as  honey  when  it  was  in  his  moiith, 
 but  as  bitter  as  gall  in  his  belly.  Religion 
 is  no  sullen  Stoicism,  no  sour  Pharisaism  : 
 it  does  not  consist  in  a  few  melancholy 
 passions,  in  some  dejected  looks  or  depres- 
 sions of  mind  ;  but  it  consists  in  freedom, 
 love,  peace,  life,  and  power ;  the  more  it 
 3omes  to  be  digested  into  our  lives,  the 
 more  sweet  and  lovely  we  shall  fmd  it  to 
 be.  Those  spots  and  wrinkles  which  cor- 
 rupt miuds  think  they  see  in  the  face  of 
 religion,  are,  indeed,  nowhere  else  but  in 
 their  own  deformed  and  misshapen  appre- 
 hensions. It  is  no  wonder  when  a  defiled 
 fancy  comes  to  be  the  glass,  if  you  have  an 
 unlovely  reilection.  '       John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— False  and  True. 
 
 You  have  Pilate  washing  his  hands  in 
 hypocrisj'-,  as  well  as  you  have  David 
 washing  his  hands  in  innocency.  You 
 have  the  Shechemites  with  their  circum- 
 cision, as  well  as  the  Israelites  with  their 
 circumcision.  You  have  the  SaJducees 
 with  their  doctrine,  as  well  as  the  apostles 
 with  their  doctrine.  You  have  the  Phari- 
 see with  his  prayer,  as  well  as  the  Publican 
 with  his  prayer.  You  have  the  Pythonist 
 with  her  confession,  as  well  as  Peter  with 
 his  confessiou.  You  have  the  Exorcists 
 with  their  Jesus,  as  well  as  Paul  with  his 
 Jesus.  You  have  Satan  with  his  Scripture, 
 as  well  as  Christ  with  His  Scripture.  You 
 have  Cain  with  his  sacrifice,  as  well  as  Abel 
 with  his  sacrifice.  You  have  Esau  with 
 his  tears,  as  well  as  Mary  with  her  tears. 
 You  have  Ahithophel  with  his  wisdom,  as 
 well  as  Solomon  with  his  wisdom.  You 
 have  Zedekiah  with  his  spirit,  as  well  as 
 Elijah  with  his  spirit.  You  have  Jezebel 
 with  her  fasts,  as  well  as  Anna  with  her 
 fasts.  You  have  the  harlot  with  her  vows, 
 as  well  as  Jacob  with  his  vow.  You  have 
 the  devils  with  their  faith,  as  well  as 
 Christians  with  their  faith.     Henry  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— Fear  of  Embracing. 
 
 Many  people  are  afraid  to  embrace  re- 
 ligion, for  fear  they  shall  not  succeed  in 
 maintaining  it. 
 
 Does  the  spring  say,  "I  will  not  come 
 unless  I  can  bring  all  fruits  and  sheaves 
 under  my  wings?"  No.  She  casts  down 
 loving  glances  in  February,  and  in  March 
 
 she  ventures  near  in  mild  days,  but  fa 
 beaten  back  and  overthrown  by  storm  and 
 wind.  Yet  she  returns,  and  finally,  yields 
 the  earth  to  April,  far  readier  for  life  than 
 she  found  it.  The  rains  are  still  cold,  but 
 the  grass  is  growing  green,  and  the  buds 
 are  swelling.  In  May  the  air  is  yet  chilly, 
 but  it  has  the  odour  of  flowers,  and  every 
 day  grows  warmer  till  the  delicious  June, 
 when  all  is  bloom  and  softness,  and  even 
 the  storms  have  nourishment  in  them. 
 Then  come  the  glowing  July  and  the  fervid 
 August,  followed  by  the  glorious  autumn 
 of  harvest  and  victory  ! 
 
 And  shall  nature  do  so  much,  while  we 
 dare  not  attempt  to  overcome  the  coldness 
 and  deadness  of  our  hearts,  and  to  fill 
 them  with  the  summer  of  love  ? 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher, 
 
 RELIGION— Formality  not. 
 
 Formality  is  the  ape  of  piety.  Formalists 
 may  perform  all  the  external  parts  of  re- 
 ligion ;  pray,  fast,  give  alms.  How  devout 
 were  the  Pharisees !  How  humble  was 
 Ahab  !  What  a  reformer  was  Jehu  !  Yet 
 this  was  but  a  formal  show  of  religion. 
 Daedalus,  by  art,  made  images  to  move  of 
 themselves,  insomuch  that  people  thought 
 they  were  living ;  formalists  do  so  coun- 
 terfeit, and  play  a  devotion,  that  others 
 think  they  are  living  saints ;  they  are 
 religious  mountebanks.  T.  IFatson. 
 
 RELIGION— Getting. 
 
 It  is  with  difficulty,  if  at  all,  a  fire 
 kindled  on  the  top  of  the  fuel,  finds  its 
 way  down  into  the  centre  and  the  bottom. 
 So  with  religion  that  is  simply  received 
 into  the  intellect  or  upon  the  surface  of 
 the  heart.  It  is  in  the  one  case  in  danger 
 of  being  absorbed  in  theories  and  specu- 
 lations ;  and  in  the  other,  it  is  in  danger 
 of  quickly  expiring  under  the  stronger  in- 
 fluence of  the  atmosphere  of  this  world. 
 But  if,  like  a  fire,  it  be  kindled  at  the 
 bottom  or  in  the  middle,  and  get  good 
 hold,  it  will,  in  all  probability,  rise  and 
 spread  all  about  the  inner  and  outer  man, 
 until  the  whole  of  his  life  is  abbize  with 
 its  sacred  influences.  John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Gloomy. 
 
 Those  who  lose  all  in  the  Crucifixion  are 
 at  home  in  Gethsemane  and  Calvary,  but 
 strangers  to  Olivet  and  Tabor.  Their 
 hearts,  cold  and  depressed  by  the  undivided 
 subject  of  their  thoughts,  find  in  religion 
 only  the  everlasting  discipline  of  a  loveless 
 penitence, — "darkness  is  over  the  face  of 
 the  earth,"  and  heaven  has  but  a  faint  and 
 distant  starlight  to  compensate  it.  Their 
 very  Sabbaths  are  Good  Fiidays ;  their 
 joy  the  hope  of  future  delivery,  not  the 
 bright  and  cheering  sense  of  present  free- 
 dom. Archer  Butler. 
 
EEIIGION. 
 
 RELIGION— Hearsay. 
 
 Now  see  what  a  hearsay  religion  is. 
 There  are  men  who  helieve  on  authority. 
 Their  minister  believes  all  this  Christianity 
 true,  therefore  so  do  they.  He  calls  this 
 doctrine  essential;  they  echo  it.  Some 
 thousands  of  years  ago  men  communed 
 with  God;  they  have  heard  this,  and  are 
 content  it  should  be  so.  They  have  heard 
 ■with  the  hearing  of  the  ear  that  God  is 
 love — that  the  ways  of  holiness  are  ways 
 of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  peace. 
 But  a  hearsay  belief  saves  not.  The  Corin- 
 thian philosophers  heard  Paul — Pharisees 
 heard  Christ.  How  much  did  the  ear 
 convey  ?  To  thousands  exactly  nothing. 
 He  alone  believes  truth  who  feels  it.  He 
 has  a  religion  whose  soul  knows  by  expe- 
 rience that  to  serve  God  and  know  Him  is 
 the  richest  treasure.  And  unless  truth 
 come  to  you,  not  in  word  only,  but  in 
 power  besides — authoritative  because  true, 
 not  true  because  authoritative — there  has 
 been  no  real  revelation  made  to  you  from 
 God.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 EELIGION— a  Help  in  Life. 
 
 How  it  helps  a  man  to  suffer  and  to 
 toil !  How  it  calms  his  temper  and  soothes 
 his  spirit!  How  it  heals  his  wounds  and 
 anoints  him  with  joy.  "  His  tool  slipped," 
 says  Malan,  in  his  beautiful  tract,  'The 
 Watchmaker  of  Geneva,'  "his  tool  slipped, 
 and  the  wovk  was  spoiled.  He  repeated 
 the  attempt,  and  again  he  was  iinsuccessful. 
 A  slight  and  momeutary  expression  of 
 trouble  appeared  on  his  countenance,  but 
 the  cloud  soon  passed  away.  He  clasped 
 his  hands  and  looked  upward,  while  his 
 lips  moved  as  if  uttering  a  silent  and  fervent 
 prayer;  the  expression  of  trouble  disap- 
 peared— he  resumed  his  work."  And  so 
 mauy  a  good  man  in  his  cottage  or  work- 
 shop, amidst  the  spoiling  of  his  work  or 
 the  breaking  of  his  tools,  or  the  anger  of 
 his  master,  or  the  losing  of  his  employment, 
 or  the  cries  of  his  chiklren,  or  the  sorrows 
 of  his  wife,  or  the  sickness  of  his  body, 
 or  the  trouble  of  his  soul,  finds  prayer  is 
 the  secret  of  peace.  And  in  manifold  ways 
 does  religion  bless  the  poor  man  in  his 
 pilgrimage.  Faith  is  a  rod  with  which  He 
 cleaves  Red  Seas  of  difficulty ;  and  God's 
 Word  is  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  of  fire 
 by  night,  amidst  the  rocks  of  ft  sandy 
 •wilderness.  And  Sabbaths  are  wells  of 
 water;  and  ordinances  are  beautiful  and 
 shady  palm-trees;  and  prayer  brings  down 
 manna  every  morning;  and  the  sight  of 
 the  cross  heals  the  bite  of  fiery  serpents ; 
 and  hope  is  a  spy  going  beforehand,  to 
 bring  back  the  clusters  of  Eshcol.  And 
 then,  at  last,  God's  presence  is  as  the  ark 
 in  the  midst  of  the  river;  and  the  pilgrim 
 passes  dryshod  into  "  the  land  that  flowcth 
 with  milk  and  honey."  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 RELIGION— Influence  of. 
 
 Just  as  the  sim  gleams  over  the  palace 
 and  into  the  cottage,  flushing  alike  with 
 its  splendour  the  council  chamber  of  the 
 monarch  and  the  kitchen  of  the  peasant; 
 as  the  all-pervasive  light  fills  the  vast 
 dome  of  the  sky  and  the  tiny  cup  of  the 
 flower,  so  religion  illumines  at  once  the 
 heaven  of  our  hopes  and  the  earth  of  our 
 cares.  Secularities  become  hallowed  ;  toil 
 brightens  with  the  smile  of  God ;  business 
 becomes  crystalline;  light  from  God  comes 
 through  it  to  us,  glances  from  us  go 
 through  it  to  God.  S.  Coley. 
 
 Freedom  and  felicity  are  inseparable; 
 servitude  is  the  fatal  concomitant  of  vice. 
 When  a  philosopher  was  asked  what  ad- 
 vantage he  obtained  by  the  study  of  philo- 
 sophy, he  replied,  This  among  others,  that 
 if  all  the  laws  were  cancelled,  a  philosopher 
 would  live  as  uniformly  according  to  the 
 rules  of  decency  and  honesty  as  before.  Of 
 the  real  Christian  it  may  be  truly  said, 
 that  were  he  destitute  of  the  restraint  of 
 penal  laws,  he  would,  both  from  choice  and 
 judgment,  be  holy  in  all  manner  of  conver- 
 sation and  godliness.  C.  Buck. 
 
 RELIGION— Inward. 
 
 Inward  religion  without  an  outward 
 show  of  it  is  like  a  tree  without  fruit, 
 useless;  and  outward  show  of  religion 
 without  inward  sincerity  is  like  a  tree 
 without  heart,  lifeless.  Venning. 
 
 RELIGION— Life-giving. 
 
 Religion,  like  that  halsamum  vitice,  being 
 once  conveyed  into  the  soul,  awakens  and 
 enlivens  it,  and  makes  it  renew  its  strength, 
 like  an  eagle,  and  mount  strongly  upwards 
 towards  heaven,  and  so  unitfng  the  soul  to 
 God,  the  centre  of  life  and  strength,  it 
 renders  it  undaunted  and  invincible. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 RELIGION— a  Living  Power. 
 
 Religion  is  not  a  phrase,  but  a  living 
 power ;  and  it  is  often  felt  where  it  is  least 
 displayed.  Some  men's  religion  is  like 
 the  electric  jar  condensed  and  charged 
 with  electricity — on  a  Sunday  it  sparkles 
 in  its  waj',  and  every  one  says.  How  re- 
 ligious such  a  one  is !  But  when  we  see 
 the  same  man  in  the  world,  we  find  his 
 religion  is  like  the  same  jar  discharged, 
 useless,  cold.  The  real  religious  element 
 is  not  like  the  electricity  in  the  jar  that 
 explodes  with  noise,  it  is  felt  giving  fertility 
 to  every  soil,  balance  to  the  orbs  in  the 
 sky,  and  beauty  and  harmony  to  all  around. 
 Its  voice  may  not  be  heard ;  its  thoughts 
 may  not  be  uttered ;  and  yet  it  acts,  and 
 influences,  and  moulds  our  conduct  in  every 
 sphere  into  which  God  in  His  providence 
 may  call  us.  Dr.  Camming 
 
733 
 
 EEIIGIOir. 
 
 RELIGION— Man  without. 
 
 A  man  without  religion  is  like  a  hnrse 
 without  a  bridle.  Anon. 
 
 RELIGION— not  Natural. 
 
 You  need  not  learn  a  man  to  sin ;  this  is 
 natural,  and  therefore  facile,  it  comes  as 
 water  out  of  a  spring-.  It  is  an  easy  thing 
 to  be  wicked  :  hell  will  be  taken  without 
 storm;  but  matters  of  religion  must  be 
 learnt.  To  cut  the  flesh  is  easy,  but  to 
 prick  a  vein  and  not  cut  an  artery  is  hard. 
 The  trade  of  sin  needs  not  to  be  le:irned, 
 but  the  art  of  Divine  contentment  is  not 
 achieved  without  holy  industry. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 RELIGION— No  Old  Age  In. 
 
 Religion,  though  it  hath  its  infancy,  yet 
 hath  it  no  old  age :  while  it  is  iu  its  mi- 
 nority, it  is  always  in  motu;  but  when  it 
 comes  to  its  maturity  and  full  age,  it  will 
 always  be  in  quiete — it  is  then  always  the 
 same,  and  its  years  fail  not,  but  it  shall 
 endure  for  ever.  John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— Partial. 
 
 As  the  boat  cannot  move  rightly  when 
 the  oars  only  on  one  side  are  plied ;  or  as 
 the  fowl,  if  she  use  only  one  wing,  cannot 
 fly  up.  So  religion  consisteth  of  duties  to 
 be  performed,  some  to  God,  and  some  to 
 man ;  some  for  the  first  table  of  the  law, 
 some  for  the  second ;  otherwise  that  re- 
 ligion will  never  profit  that  hath  one  hand 
 wrapped  up,  that  should  be  toward  man  in 
 all  offices  of  charity,  though  the  other  be 
 used  towards  God  in  all  offices  of  piety, 
 
 S2}sncer. 
 
 It  has  been  said  that  men  carry  on  a 
 kind  of  coasting-trade  with  religion.  In 
 the  voyage  of  life  they  profess  to  be  in 
 search  of  heaven,  but  take  care  not  to 
 veutui'e  so  far  into  their  approximations  to 
 it  as  entirely  to  lose  sight  of  the  earth; 
 and  should  their  frail  vessel  be  in  danger 
 of  shipwreck,  they  will  gladly  throw  their 
 darling  vices  overboard,  as  other  mariners 
 their  treasures,  only  to  fish  them  up  again 
 when  the  storm  is  over.  Anon. 
 
 RELIGION— Peaceful. 
 
 The  motions  of  true  practical  religion 
 are  most  like  that  of  the  heavens,  which, 
 though  most  swift,  is  yet  most  silent.  As 
 grace  and  true  religion  is  no  lazy  or  slug- 
 gish thing,  but  in  perpetual  motion ;  so  all 
 the  motions  of  it  are  soft  and  gentle ;  while 
 it  acts  most  powerfully  withiu,  it  also  acts 
 most  peacefully.  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
 Cometh  not  with  observation,"  that  men 
 may  say,  "  Lo  here,  or  lo  there ;"  it  is  not 
 with  the  devouring  fire  coming  after  it,  or 
 a  whirlwind  going  before  it.  The  conflict 
 of  religion  with  sin  and  Satan  is  not  to  be 
 
 known  by  the  rattling  of  the  chariots,  or 
 the  sound  of  an  alarm  ;  it  is,  indeed,  alone 
 transacted  upon  the  inner  stage  of  men's 
 souls  and  spirits,  and  is  rather  a  pacifying 
 and  quieting  of  all  those  riots  and  tumults 
 raised  there  by  sin  and  Satan ;  it  is  rather 
 a  reconciling  the  minds  of  men  to  truth, 
 justice,  and  holiness;  it  is  a  captivating 
 and  subjecting  all  our  powers  and  faculties 
 to  God  and  true  goodness,  through  the 
 ett'ectual  working  of  Divine  love  and  hu- 
 mility. John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— Pedigree  and  Nature  of. 
 
 True  religion  derives  its  pedigree  from 
 heaven  and  constantly  moves  toward 
 heaven  again.  It  is  a  beam  from  God,  as 
 "  every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  is 
 from  above,"  &c. 
 
 Religion  is  a  heaven-born  thing,  the 
 seed  of  God  in  the  spirits  of  men,  whereby 
 they  are  formed  to  a  similitude  and  like- 
 ness of  Himself. 
 
 God  is  the  first  truth  and  primitive 
 goodness;  true  religion  is  a  vigorous  efflux 
 and  emanation  of  both  upon  the  spirits  of 
 men,  and,  therefore,  is  called  "a  parti- 
 cipation of  the  Divine  nature." 
 
 True  religion  is  such  a  communication 
 of  the  Divinity,  as  none  but  the  highest 
 of  created  beings  are  capable  of. 
 
 Ibid. 
 RELIGION— Pleasantness  of. 
 
 It  gives  sunshine  to  the  man;  his  spirit 
 is  genial,  and  his  conduct  glows  with  a 
 radiant  life.  Having  a  soul  full  of  good- 
 ness, he  sees  good  in  everything;  being 
 harmonious  within,  he  hears  music  all 
 round  him ;  he  beats  out  melody  in  every 
 effort ;  his  "  soul  delights  itself  in  fatness ;" 
 he  is  "  blessed  in  his  deed."  Like  a  man 
 marching  to  music,  he  treads  the  path  of 
 life  with  a  joyous  step.  As  a  Christ-re- 
 generated man,  he  is  "satisfied  from  him- 
 self;" his  happiness  springs  up  from  a  good 
 nature  within,  as  a  well  of  water  to  ever- 
 lasting life.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 RELIGION— Pocket-deep. 
 
 Does  your  religion  go  pocket-deep  ? 
 Were  you  converted  only  in  the  upper 
 story — the  old  man  only  scalped — or  was 
 he  killed  dead  ?  Does  your  religion  reach 
 only  down  about  that  "  unruly  "  member, 
 so  that  cut  your  head  oft",  and  soul  and 
 body  would  both  be  damned  ;  or  were  you 
 converted  right  down  through,  from  head 
 to  foot,  "  soul,  body,  and  spirit,"  pocket, 
 pocket-book  and  all  ?  Not  merely  the 
 coppers,  threepenny  pieces,  and  smooth 
 fourpences  ;  but  those  gold  half-sovereigns 
 and  sovereigns,  and  the  five  and  teii  pound 
 notes.  Say,  friend,  when  God  converted 
 you,  did  he  convert  house,  barn,  cellar, 
 corn -cribs,  potato-bins,  meal-bags,  and  all. 
 
EELlGIOiy. 
 
 733 
 
 iTon  have  been  praying  for  a  "deeper 
 work  of  grace" — how  deep  will  you  have 
 it  ?  pocket-deep  ?  You  have  desired  to 
 "  feel  more  deeply  " — how  deep  ?  pocket- 
 deep,  or  do  you  only  want  to  feel  skin- 
 keep  ?  You  don't  feel  as  you  want  to ; 
 well,  perhaps  you  never  will  till  you  feel  in 
 your  foclcet  more. 
 
 Just  think  about  these  matters,  will 
 you  ?  You  feel  for  your  brother ;  well, 
 just  feel  in  yo\yc  pocket.  You  feel  for  the 
 poor ;  well,  feel  in  your  pocket.  You  feel 
 for  "  the  cause  j"  well,  feel  in  your  pocket. 
 You  feel  for  poor  preachers ;  ^\  ell,  feel  in 
 your  pocket.  And  if  you  feel  there  you 
 will  make  others /eeZ,  and  feel  very  thank- 
 ful, too,  that  God  has  some  servants  whose 
 religion  is  pocket-deep, 
 
 "  O,  I  don't  believe  in  talking  so  much 
 about  pecuniary  matters."  You  don't,  eh  ? 
 Ah,  well,  I  think  your  religion  is  not  quite 
 pocket-deep  yet.  Try  again — get  a  little 
 nearer  Him  who  "  was  rich  "  and  "  became 
 poor"  for  you.  You  feel  rather  pleased 
 when  God's  blessings  come  rolling  into 
 your  purse  and  dwelling — that's  all  right, 
 but  the  Lord  Jesus  said,  "  It  is  more 
 hlessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  Now, 
 don't  shrug  your  shoulders  so,  I'm  not 
 going  to  beg  a  sixpence  from  you ;  don't 
 be  alarmed,  I  wouldn't  ask  you  to  give  me 
 a  crown  for  all  the  money  you  have  in  the 
 world.  Don't  fret ;  all  I  want  to  know  is 
 whether  your  religion  is  pocket-deep  or 
 not.  Just  think  of  it  a  little.  I  don't  ask 
 whether  you  would  scatter  everything  to 
 the  four  winds  if  you  knew  the  Lord  was 
 coming  so  that  you  couldn't  use  it;  but 
 whether  you  are  as  ready  to  open  "  the 
 bag  "  now  when  it  can  be  of  use,  as  at  some 
 other  time,  when  it  will  be  scattered  in 
 haste  and  fear,  and  do  no  one  x^w  good, 
 and  perhaps  will  do  much  hurt,  as  has 
 often  been  the  case  iu  time  past. 
 
 In  a  word,  is  your  religion  pocket-deep, 
 or  is  it  only  skin-deep  ?  Anon. 
 
 EELIGION— Practical. 
 
 When  Diogenes  heard  Zeno  with  subtile 
 arguments  endeavouring  to  prove  that 
 there  was  no  motion,  he  suddenly  starts  up 
 and  walks;  Zeno  asking  the  cause  thereof, 
 said  Diogenes,  "  Hereby  I  confute  you,  and 
 prove  that  there  is  motion."  Walking 
 with  God  is  the  best  way  to  confute  them 
 that  think  religion  to  be  but  a  notion ; 
 living  religion  will  prove  that  there  is 
 religion.  Venning. 
 
 RELIGION— Preparation  for. 
 
 Some  persons  in  thinking  of  religion, 
 imagine  that  they  should  bring  themselves 
 into  a  certain  condition  of  moral  excellence 
 before  they  seek  religion  j  which  is  very 
 much  like  a  person  sick  waiting  until  he 
 is  well  before  he  send  for  the  physician ; 
 
 or  an  invalid  convalescent  waiting  until  he 
 fully  recover  before  he  seek  a  change  of 
 air  and  place;  or  a  hungry  man  waiting 
 until  his  appetite  is  satisfied  before  he  sit 
 down  to  eat ;  or  a  person  shivering  with 
 cold  waiting  until  he  is  warm,  before  he 
 go  to  the  fire.  You  go  to  the  physician 
 lecause  you  are  sick ;  to  the  fresh  air  or 
 place  because  you  need  it;  to  the  food 
 because  you  are  hungry;  to  the  fire 
 because  you  are  cold.  In  the  same  way 
 you  should  seek  religion  and  the  Saviour, 
 as  you  are,  because  you  have  need. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
 RELIGION— Refining  Influence  of. 
 
 It  has  been  said  that  true  religion  will 
 make  a  man  a  more  thorough  gentleman 
 than  all  the  courts  in  Europe.  And  it  is 
 true ;  you  may  see  simple  labouring  men 
 as  thorough  gentlemen  as  any  duke,  simply 
 because  they  have  learned  to  fear  God ; 
 and  fearing  Him,  to  restrain  themselves, 
 which  is  the  very  root  and  essence  of  all 
 good  breeding.  And  such  a  man  was 
 Abraham  of  old, — a  plain  man,  dwelling  in 
 tents,  helping  to  tend  his  own  cattle, 
 fetching  in  the  calf  from  the  field  him- 
 self, and  dressing  it,  for  the  guests  with  his 
 own  hands,  but  still,  as  the  children  of 
 Heth  said  of  him,  a  mighty  prince,  not 
 merely  in  wealth  of  flocks  and  herds,  but  a 
 prince  in  heart.  C.  Kingsley, 
 
 RELIGION— Reviving. 
 
 How  hard  it  is  to  revive  a  fire  that  is 
 nearly  gone  out ;  you  stir  it,  you  put  fresh 
 kindling  upon  it,  you  blow  it ;  and  with  all 
 your  pains  it  sometimes  defies  you.  Is  it 
 not  so  in  trying  to  revive  religion  in  a 
 heart  or  a  church  where  it  has  almost  ex- 
 pired ?  John  Bate, 
 
 RELIGION— Self-commending. 
 
 As  there  would  need  nothing  else  to  de- 
 ter and  aflright  men  from  sin  but  its  own 
 ugliness  and  deformity,  were  it  presented 
 to  a  naked  view  and  seen  as  it  is ;  so  no- 
 thing would  more  efi'ectually  commend  re- 
 ligion to  the  minds  of  men  than  the  dis- 
 playing and  unfolding  the  excellencies  of 
 its  nature,  than  the  true  native  beauty 
 and  inward  lustre  of  religion  itself;  neither 
 the  evening,  nor  the  morning,  star  could 
 so  sensibly  commend  itself  to  our  bodily 
 eyes,  and  delight  them  with  its  shining 
 beauties,  as  true  religion  (which  is  an  un- 
 defiled  beam  of  the  uncreated  light)  would 
 to  a  mind  capable  of  conversing  with  it. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— Sinister  Motives  in. 
 
 Of  how  many  may  it  be  said,  as  Tacitus 
 of  Galba,  no  man  fitter  to  be  an  emperor, 
 if  he  had  not  been  an  emperor ;  how  many 
 
734 
 
 RELIGION, 
 
 have  been  good  commonwealth's  men,  gal- 
 lant patriots,  till  tliey  came  to  be  states- 
 men ;  as  if  men  minded  goodness  only  to 
 make  them  great,  and  then  bid  it  farewell, 
 as  he  that  always  had  a  fishing-net  spread 
 on  his  table  till  he  got  a  bishopric,  and  then 
 caused  it  to  be  laid  aside,  saying,  he  had 
 ■what  he  fished  for.  Venning. 
 
 RELIGION— Sphere  of. 
 
 True  religion  never  finds  itself  out  of 
 the  infinite  sphere  of  the  Divinity,  and 
 wherever  it  finds  beauty,  harmony,  good- 
 ness, love,  ingenuousness,  wisdom,  holiness, 
 justice,  and  the  like,  it  is  ready  to  say,  here, 
 and  there  is  God  :  wheresoever  any  such 
 perfections  shine  out,  a  holy  mind  climbs 
 up  by  these  sunbeams,  and  raises  itself  up 
 to  God.  John  Smith. 
 
 RELIGION— Standard  of. 
 
 All  religion  must  be  Scripture  religion, 
 all  worship  Scripture  worship,  all  zeal 
 Scripture  zeal ;  so  that  let  a  man  have 
 never  such  sublime  knowledge,  and  such 
 burning  zeal,  yet  if  it  be  not  according 
 to  the  law  and  the  testimony,  there  is 
 no  light  in  them,  Isa.  viii,  20.  It  is  but  a 
 vain  worship  of  God,  because  God  doth  not 
 require  this,  as  our  Saviour  instructeth. 
 Matt.  XV,  9 ;  so  that  the  sum  of  all,  and 
 that  into  which  all  religion  must  be  re- 
 solved into  at  hist,  is  the  Scrij^ttires,  the 
 Word  of  God ;  for  if  you  once  lay  this 
 aside,  why  should  not  the  Turkish  devotion 
 be  as  good  as  thine  ?  Why  should  not  the 
 Mahommedan  zeal  be  as  acceptable  as 
 thine,  but  only  this  makes  the  difiTerence : 
 what  may  be  proved  by  Scripture  is 
 approved  of  by  God;  so  that  all  those 
 arguments,  "  It's  my  conscience;  I  verily 
 think  I  am  bound  to  do  thus.  It's  upon 
 my  spirit ;  I  find  much  comfort  and  much 
 sweetness  in  religion ;"  all  this  is  nothing, 
 for  all  false  religions  can  and  do  say  this  : 
 but  hast  thou  the  Word  of  God  to  warrant 
 thee  ?  doth  that  justify  thee  ?  all  things 
 else  are  but  an  empty  shadow. 
 
 Anthony  Burgess. 
 
 RELIGION— Stronger  than  Science. 
 
 Skill  and  science  have  wrought  wonders. 
 The  world  stands  amazed  at  their  achieve- 
 ments. They  have  tamed  fierce  beasts  of 
 prey,  and  brought  even  the  elements  of 
 nature  into  subjection.  They  have  spanned 
 the  ocean,  annihilated  distance,  joined  re- 
 mote continents,  given  life  to  steam,  a 
 tongue  to  the  wire,  and  a  voice  to  the 
 lightning.  But  there  are  passions  in  the 
 human  heart  more  fierce  than  beasts  of 
 prey,  and  disturbing  forces  more  tumul- 
 tuous than  nature's  stormy  winds  and 
 tempests,  and  more  difficult  of  control 
 than  the  subtle  but  omnipotent  element 
 of    electricity.      Ko    mere    hiiaaaii    skill 
 
 can  master  these.  Christian  science,  the 
 science  taught  in  the  school  of  Christ,  alone 
 can  enable  you  to  obtain  the  mastery  here. 
 E.  Roberts. 
 RELIGION— Sunday. 
 
 The  religion  of  some  men  is  well  repre- 
 sented by  their  shops  of  business  on  the 
 Sunday.  The  windows  are  closed,  doors 
 are  locked,  and  no  trade  is  carried  on,  but 
 the  goods  are  there  all  the  same  as  any 
 other  day;  so  with  them,  they  put  up  the 
 sign  of  religion  by  going  to  church  or 
 chapel ;  they  cease  from  apparent  business, 
 but  the  world,  sin,  and  Satan,  are  perhaps 
 as  securely  in  their  hearts  as  their  goods  in 
 their  shop,  and  they  only  want  the  Sunday 
 to  pass,  and  they  are  as  unlike  religion  as 
 their  shops  are  unlike  Sunday. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 RELIGION— Tasting. 
 
 The  Gauls  when  they  had  tasted  the 
 sweet  wine  of  Italy,  asked  where  tha 
 grapes  grew,  and  would  never 'be  quiet  till 
 they  came  there  ;  they  who  taste  the  sweet 
 wine  of  true  religion,  its  consolations,  &c., 
 will  never  rest  until  they  come  into  its  fulj 
 enjoyment.  Venning 
 
 RELIGION— Temporal  Good  of. 
 
 A  poor  man  who  had  been  a  follower  of 
 Jesus  about  twelve  months,  thus  spoke  of 
 the  temporal  good  he  had  derived  from 
 religion  since  he  had^embraced  it : — "  This 
 year  I  have  had  a  good  crop  on  my  little 
 piece  of  land ;  1  have  got  a  fat  pig  in  my 
 sty,  and  some  money  in  my  pocket :  last 
 year  this  time,  I  had  nothing ;  the  whole 
 went  to  the  public-house.  I  know  religion 
 is  a  good  thing  for  body  as  well  as  soul." 
 
 Another  man,  brother  of  the  above,  some 
 time  afterwards  spoke  in  a  meeting  of 
 Christians  to  the  effect  that  when  he  was 
 unconverted  (about  ten  months  before)  he 
 "  could  keep  nothing  in  the  house  or  in  his 
 pocket;  but  now  he  had  always  something 
 good  to  eat,  could  pay  his  way,  and  could, 
 carry  some  money  in  his  purse  more  than 
 he  needed  for  present  expenses." 
 
 Another  poor  man  who  was  converted 
 in  the  same  revival  as  the  above,  stated  in 
 the  presence  of  his  brethren,  and  within 
 my  hearing,  that  he  knew  he  was  at  least 
 fifty  shillings  better  oft"  in  the  world  for 
 religion.  He  had  been  converted  about 
 ten  months.  So  true  is  the  Scripture  state- 
 ment, "  Godliness  is  profitable  unto  all 
 things."  John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Triumphs  of. 
 
 All  the  greatest  things  ever  done  in  the 
 world  have  been  done  by  the  instigations 
 and  the  holy  elevations  of  the  religious 
 capacity.  We  shall  never  have  done  hear- 
 ing, I  suppose,  of  Regulus  and  Curtius, 
 and  such  like  specimens  of  the  Eomau 
 
RELIGION. 
 
 735 
 
 virtue,  great  in  death ;  but  the  whole 
 army  of  the  martyrs,  comprising  thousands 
 of  women,  and  even  many  small  children, 
 dying  firmly  in  the  refusal  to  deny  the 
 I;ord  Jesus,  are  a  full  match  and  more,  by 
 the  legion,  for  the  harvest  of  the  Romans. 
 "What  but  the  mighty  mastership  of  reli- 
 gion has  ever  led  a  people  up  through 
 civil  wars  and  revolutions,  into  a  regenera- 
 ted order  and  liberty  ?  What  has  planted 
 colonies  for  a  great  history  hut  religion  ?  the 
 most  august  and  most  beautiful  structures 
 of  the  world  have  been  temples  ofTeligion, 
 crystallizations,  we  may  say,  of  worship. 
 The  noblest  charities,  the  best  fruits  of 
 learning,  the  richest  discoveries,  the  best 
 institutions  of  law  and  justice,  every 
 greatest  thing  the  world  has  seen,  repre- 
 sents, more  or  less  directly,  the  fruitful- 
 ness  and  creativeness  of  religion. 
 
 Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 EELIGION— One  True. 
 
 The  sky  which,  whether  studded  with 
 azure  stars  or  hung  in  gold  and  purple,  or 
 one  azure  field  over  which  the  sun  wheels 
 his  glowing  course,  presents  always  a 
 glorious,  occasionally  presents  a  veiy  ex- 
 traordinary appearance.  Not  one  but  two 
 suns  are  there  :  and  in  the  Arctic  regions, 
 as  if  to  compensate  the  long  periods  when 
 their  skies  are  left  to  perpetual  night,  there 
 are  sometimes  three  blazing  away  in  bril- 
 liant rivalry,  and  shedding  increase  of 
 light  on  sparkling  icebergs  and  the  dreary 
 ■wastes  of  snow.  Yet,  though  there  were 
 not  three  but  three  hundred  suns,  only  one 
 of  them  could  be  a  true  sun.  The  other 
 which  are  produced  by  a  peculiar  state  of 
 the  atmosphere,  being,  though  bright,  yet 
 mere  images,  are  analogous,  to  borrow  a 
 familiar  illustration,  to  the  multiplied 
 candles  that  shine  on  the  silvered  facets  of 
 a  reflector.  As  with  these  suns,  so  is  it 
 with  the  various  religious  systems  of  the 
 world.  They  are  many  ;  numbered  not  by 
 units,  but  hundreds.  Almost  every  new 
 country  that  voyagers  have  discovered  has, 
 with  new  trees,  and  new  flowers,  and  new 
 animals,  presented  a  new  form  of  faith. 
 The  world  has  no  building  big  enough  to 
 hold  all  the  gods  that  men  do  worship. 
 Yet,  though  greater  in  number,  and  much 
 greater  in  essential  difierences  than  the 
 races  of  mankind — for,  differing  in  colour 
 and  contour  as  the  negro  and  the  white 
 man  do,  they  meet  in  Adam  ;  God  having 
 made  of  one  blood  all  the  families  of  the 
 earth — among  these  many  religions  there 
 is  but  one  true,  the  rest  are  false — false  as 
 the  mock  suns  of  an  Arctic  sky.  For  as 
 God  is  one,  truth  is  one  ;  and  though  the 
 true  may  be  separated  from  the  false  by  a 
 line  as  sharp  as  the  edge  of  a  razor,  still 
 they  stand  as  irreconcilable  as  if  they  were 
 parted  by  the  whole  distance  of  the  poles.  | 
 
 There  are  "lords  many  and  gods  many," 
 yet  but  one  true  God ;  even  so  there  are 
 many  faiths  and  forms  of  religion,  and 
 yet  but  one  "pure  and  undefiled  before 
 God."  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 RELIGION— Truthful. 
 
 He  that  tells  a  lie  for  his  religion,  or 
 goes  about  by  fraud  and  imposture  to  gain 
 proselytes,  either  dare  not  trust  his  cause, 
 or  dare  not  trust  God.  True  religion  is 
 open  in  its  articles,  honest  in  its  prose- 
 cutions, just  in  its  conduct,  innocent  when 
 it  is  accused,  ignorant  of  falsehood,  sure  in 
 its  truth,  simple  in  its  sayings ;  and  (as 
 Julius  Capitolinus  said  of  emperor  Verus) 
 it  is  "morum  simplicium,  et  quce  adum- 
 brare  nihil  possit;"  it  "covers,"  indeed, 
 "a  multitude  of  sins,"  by  curing  them, 
 and  obtaining  pardon  for  them  ;  but  it  can 
 dissemble  nothing  of  itself ;  it  cannot  tell 
 or  do  a  lie  ;  but  it  can  become  a  saci'ifice  ; 
 a  good  man  can  quit  his  life,  but  never  his 
 integrity.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 RELIGION— Use  of 
 
 A  mirror  is  of  use  as  it  reflects  the  ob- 
 jects which  are  placed  before  it ;  and  that 
 mirror  is  the  most  perfect  which  reflects 
 the  objects  in  nearest  conformity  to  what 
 they  are  in  themselves.  So  religion  in  man 
 is  of  use  as  it  expresses  the  truths  of  God 
 its  Author ;  and  it  is  the  most  perfect 
 when  it  expresses  them  in  nearest  con- 
 formity to  the  revelations  of  them  as  con- 
 tained in  the  Scriptures.  John  Bate. 
 
 RELIGION— Valued. 
 
 The  esquire  of  a  village  called  one  day 
 upon  a  poor  labouring  man,  and  said  to 
 him,  "Why,  Jacob,  I  hear  that  you  have 
 become  a  Methodist!"  "Yes,  master,  I 
 have,"  said  Jacob,  "  and  I  find  that  religion 
 is  a  very  good  thing,  and  if  you  would 
 come  and  offer  me  all  the  money  and  pro- 
 perty which  you  have,  I  would  not  give  up 
 what  little  religion  I  have  for  the  whole 
 of  it."  John  Bate, 
 
 iElian  reports  of  one  Nicostratus  that, 
 being  a  skilful  artificer,  and  finding  a 
 curious  piece  of  art,  he  was  so  much  taken 
 with  it  that  a  spectator,  beholding  him 
 very  intent  in  viewing  the  workmanship, 
 asked  him  what  pleasure  he  could  take  in 
 gazing  so  long  upon  such  an  object  ?  He 
 answered,  "  Had'st  thou  my  eyes  thou 
 wouldst  be  as  much  ravished  as  I  am." 
 So  may  we  say  of  carnal  persons  ;  had  they 
 the  hearts  and  dispositions  of  believers, 
 they  would  be  as  much  delighted  with  all 
 means  of  communion  with  God,  as  they 
 are,  and  account  that  their  privilege 
 which  now  they  esteem  their  vexation. 
 
 C.  Buck. 
 
736 
 
 EELIGION— RELIGION  AND  REASON. 
 
 EELIGION— Whole  of. 
 
 When  a  man  is  told  that  the  whole  of 
 religion  is  summed  up  in  the  love  of  God 
 and  the  love  of  man,  he  is  ready  to  cry  out 
 like  Charoba,  in  Gebir,  at  the  first  sight  of 
 the  sea,  "Is  this  the  mighty  ocean?  Is 
 tl)is  all  ?"  Yes  !  all :  but  how  small  a 
 part  of  it  do  your  eyes  survey  !  Only  trust 
 yourself  to  it ;  launch  out  upon  it ;  sail 
 abroad  over  it ;  you  will  find  it  has  no 
 end ;  it  wiU  carry  you  round  the  world. 
 
 Han. 
 EELIGION— Of  the  World. 
 
 The  tendency  of  the  world's  religion 
 just  now  is,  to  reject  the  blood  and  to 
 glory  in  a  Gospel  which  needs  no  sacrifice, 
 no  "  Lamb  slain."  Thus  they  go  "in  the 
 way  of  Gain"  (Jude  11).  Cain  refused 
 the  blood,  and  came  to  God  without  it. 
 He  would  not  own  himself  a  sinner  con- 
 demned to  die,  and  needing  the  death  of 
 another  to  save  him.  This  was  man's  open 
 rejection  of  God's  own  way  of  life.  Fore- 
 most in  this  rejection  of  what  is  profanely 
 called  by  some  scoffers,  "the  religion  of 
 the  shambles,"  we  see  the  first  murderer  ; 
 and  he  who  would  not  defile  his  altar  with 
 the  blood  of  a  lamb  pollutes  the  earth  with 
 his  brother's  blood.  Br.  Bonar. 
 
 EELIGION— Wrangling  for. 
 
 Men  will  wrangle  for  religion  ;  write  for 
 it ;  fight  for  it ;  die  for  it ;  anything  but — 
 live  for  it.  C.  Colton. 
 
 EELIGION  FOE  ALL. 
 
 Keligion  is  like  the  coin  of  a  realm,  in- 
 tended for  all  classes  of  the  people  ;  and 
 circulates  among  all  classes.  It  is  like  the 
 air,  the  common  source  and  sustainer  of 
 life  to  all  men.  It  is  like  the  sun,  giving 
 light  to  all  who  walk  with  open  eyes  in 
 its  rays.  John  Bate. 
 
 EELIGION  IN  BUSINESS. 
 
 The  earnest  spirit  of  business  (and  men 
 must  be  earnest,  or  they  will  do  nothing), 
 the  earnest  spirit  of  business  must  be  met 
 and  controlled — must  be  suffused  and  sanc- 
 tified by  a  still  more  earnest  spirit  of  re- 
 ligion. A  hollow  and  heartless  i)iety  can 
 never  guide  such  a  business  spirit  as  Hale 
 possessed,  and  such  as,  in  these  days 
 especially,  all  successful  men  must  possess. 
 Strength  must  be  combined  with  strength  ; 
 earnestness  must  contri.d  earnestness.  Zeal 
 must  pierce  into,  and  exalt  and  purify 
 zi.-al.  Faith  in  eternal  things,  in  the  soul, 
 in  God,  in  Christy  in  the  Spiiit,  in  heaven, 
 must  be  clear  eagle-eyed,  seeing  at  a  dis- 
 tance, looking  through  clouds  and  storms. 
 Love  to  God  must  be  a  blazing  fire,  like 
 that  on  Elijah's  altar,  which  licked  up  the 
 water,  dust,  and  stones  that  filled  the 
 trenches. 
 
 Say  not  such  mighty  faith,  such  fervent 
 love,  are  impossible  in  this  world  of  bustle, 
 toil,  and  care.  For  Hale  has  demonstrated 
 that  the  thing  was  practicable  ;  and  so  has 
 William  Wilberforce ;  and  so  has  Mr. 
 Hardcastle,  the  merchant ;  and  so  has 
 Thomas  Fowell  Buxton,  the  brewer ;  and 
 so  has  Joseph  John  Gurney,  the  banker, 
 and  many  more.  Amidst  the  heats  of 
 secular  employments  they  cooled  their 
 burning  brows  by  opening  windows  that 
 looked  into  eternity,  and  let  in  breezes 
 that  came  blowing  from  the  land  where 
 angels  dwell.  And  when  their  souls' 
 chariot-wheels  were  ready  to  catch  fire  by 
 the  friction  of  their  secular  activity,  faith 
 in  other  things  and  love  to  other  things 
 was  like  cold  water  dropping  down  to  pre- 
 vent the  flames.  The  world  did  not  carry 
 them  away,  did  not  overpower,  and  con- 
 quer, and  burn  them  up.  They  remained, 
 after  all,  masters  of  the  world  and  of 
 themselves,  through  the  constant  faith  they 
 had  that  they  were  the  servants  of  God  and 
 of  Christ.  J.  Stourjhton. 
 
 EELIGION  AND  EEASON. 
 
 When  pure  religion  and  pure  reason  are 
 compared — when  in  their  entireness  they 
 are  contemplated  in  connection,  it  will  be 
 found  that  religion  is  much  larger  than 
 reason ;  that  they  may  be  compared  to 
 two  circular  planes,  the  one  of  immensftly 
 vaster  circumference  than  the  other  ;  that 
 consequently,  many  parts  of  religion  are 
 beyond  reason — deeper  than  reason— loftier 
 than  reason  ;  that  there  is  a  border  round 
 the  edge  of  religion,  which  reason  does  not 
 touch ;  that  when  the  former  surpasses 
 the  latter  there  is  no  opposition,  but  that 
 where  they  come  within  a  common  measure- 
 ment, there  they  agree — there  they  corre- 
 si)ond — there  they  fit  and  cohere  together 
 as  exactly  as  two  planes  with  polished  sur- 
 faces. Within  a  certain  degree,  the  corre- 
 spondence of  reason  and  religion  may  be 
 demonstrated,  the  perfect  reasonableness 
 of  Christianity  may  be  shown.  From  prin- 
 ciple to  principle,  duty  to  duty,  institute 
 to  institute,  we  may  go  on  making  our  ap- 
 peal to  the  unsophisticated  understanding, 
 in  the  apostle's  words,  "I  speak  as  unto 
 wise  men,  judge  ye  what  I  say."  And  if 
 what  we  can  understand  should  be  reason- 
 able, we  may  conclude  that  the  rest  is 
 reasonable.  "If,"  as  Boyle  says,  "God 
 vouchsafes  to  discover  to  us,  in  respect  of 
 His  nature  and  attributes,  what  we  can- 
 not know  without  His  information ;  and 
 since  we  know  that  whatever  He  says  must 
 be  true,  we  have  more  reason  to  believe 
 what  He  says  of  Himself  and  Divine  things, 
 than  what  we  should  be  able  to  guess  at 
 about  them  by  the  analogj'  of  things  of  an 
 infinitely  distant  nature." 
 
 IMd. 
 
EELIGIOUS— EEPENTANCE. 
 
 737 
 
 RELIGIOUS— Being. 
 
 It  must  be  understood  that  "heing  re- 
 ligious "  is  not  a  work  apart  by  itself,  but 
 a  spirit  of  faith  and  righteousness  flowing 
 out  from  the  centre  of  a  regenerated  heart 
 into  all  the  enjoyments  and  intercourse 
 of  the  world.  Not  merely  the  preacher  in 
 the  pulpit,  and  the  saint  on  his  knees,  may 
 do  the  work  of  religion,  but  the  mechanic 
 who  smites  with  the  hammer,  and  drives 
 the  wheel ;  the  artist  seeking  to  realise  his 
 pure  ideal  of  the  beautiful ;  the  mother  in 
 the  gentle  offices  of  home  ;  the  statesman 
 in  the  forlorn  hope  of  liberty  and  justice ; 
 and  the  philosopher  whose  thought  treads 
 reverently  among  the  splendid  mysteries 
 of  the  universe.  Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 EELIGIOUS  CHARACTER— Variety  in. 
 
 We  ought,  if  rightly  minded,  to  rejoice 
 in  the  exuberance  and  variety  of  the 
 spiritual  gifts  possessed  by  Christians,  just 
 as  we  delight  in  the  rich  variety  of  nature, 
 or  in  that  of  the  Word  of  God.  There  are 
 many  lines  of  thought  in  religion,  many 
 forms  which  practical  and  personal  piety 
 takes,  although,  of  course,  they  are  all 
 animated  by  the  same  essential  principles. 
 St.  John  and  St.  Paul  were  both  equally 
 devoted  to  the  cause  and  person  of  our 
 Lord,  yet  no  two  men  ever  existed  who 
 manifested  this  devotion  in  shapes  more 
 different.  Both  these  members  held  of  the 
 Head  by  a  living  union,  but  they  discharged 
 for  the  Head  functions  altogether  diff'erent. 
 Let  us  not  conceive  of  all  genuine  religion 
 as  moving  in  one  groove  of  feeling  and 
 practice,  and  refuse  to  acknowledge  any 
 man  as  a  Christian,  because  he  does  not 
 run  upon  our  particular  groove.  There 
 are  several  points  of  view  from  which 
 Christianity  may  be  surveyed ;  and  al- 
 tho\igh  it  be  one  and  the  same  object, 
 frc^n  whatever  point  we  look,  yet  eyes 
 placed  on  different  levels  will  see  it  grouped 
 in  diff'erent  perspectives.       Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 RELIGIOUS  MAN— Pleasure  of  the. 
 
 The  pleasure  of  the  religious  man  is  an 
 easy  and  portable  pleasure,  such  a  one  as 
 he  carries  about  in  his  bosom,  without 
 alarming  either  the  eye  or  the  envy  of  the 
 world.  A  man  putting  all  his  pleasure 
 into  this  one,  is  like  a  traveller's  putting 
 all  his  guoils  into  one  jewel ;  the  value  is 
 the  same,  and  the  convenience  greater. 
 
 Dr.  South. 
 
 REMORSE— Agonies  of. 
 
 The  mind  that  broods  o'er  guilty  woes 
 
 Is  like  the  scorpion  girt  by  fire; 
 In  circle  narrowing  as  it  glows. 
 The  flames  around  their  captive  close. 
 Till  inly  searched  by  thousand  throes, 
 
 And  maddening  in  her  ire, 
 One  sad  and  sole  relief  she  knows, 
 
 The  sting  she  nourished  for  her  foes. 
 Whose  venom  never  yet  was  vain, 
 Gives  but  one  pang  and  cures  all  pain. 
 And  darts  into  her  desperate  brain  j 
 So  do  the  dark  in  soul  expire. 
 Or  live  like  scorpion  girt  by  fire. 
 So  writhes  the  mind  Remorse  has  riven, 
 Unfit  for  earth,  undoomed  for  heaven. 
 Darkness  above,  despair  beneath, 
 Around  it  flame,  within  it  Death. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 REMORSE— Definition  of. 
 
 Remorse  is  the  echo  of  a  lost  virtue. 
 
 Bulwer  Lytton 
 
 REMORSE— Prerogative  of  Man. 
 
 Remorse  i?  a  man's  dread  prerogative, 
 and  is  the  natural  accompaniment  of  his 
 constitution  as  a  knowing,  voluntary  agent, 
 left  in  trust  with  his  own  welfare  and  that 
 of  others.  Remorse,  if  we  exclude  the 
 notion  of  responsiliility,  is  an  enigma  in 
 human  nature,  never  to  be  explained. 
 
 Isaac  Taylor. 
 
 REMORSE— Torments  of. 
 
 Remorse  not  only  turns  God  and  His 
 creation  against  us,  but  turns  us  against 
 ourselves,  makes  the  soul  act  like  the  ser- 
 pent, which  stings  itself  to  death.  "  Think 
 not,"  says  Cicero,  "that  guilt  requires  th«> 
 burning  torches  of  the  furies  to  agitate 
 and  torment  it.  Frauds,  crimes,  remem- 
 brances of  the  past,  terrors  of  the  future — 
 these  are  the  domestic  furies  that  are  ever 
 present  to  the  mind  of  the  impious." 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 REMORSE  AND  PENITENCE. 
 
 There  is  a  difference  between  remorse 
 and  penitence.  Remorse  is  the  conscious- 
 ness of  wrong-doing  with  no  sense  of  love. 
 Penitence  is  that  s;ime  consciousness,  with 
 the  feeling  of  tenderness  and  gratefulness 
 added.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 REPENTAKCE— Calls  to. 
 
 Wherever  we  may  be,  there  are  voices 
 which  call  us  to  repentance.  Nature,  as 
 well  as  our  whole  life,  is  full  of  them,  only 
 our  ears  are  heavy  and  will  not  hear. 
 There  is  an  awakening  call  in  the  rolling 
 thunder,  whi('h  is  a  herald  of  infinite 
 mnjesty  —  in  the  lightning,  which  darts 
 down  before  thee,  carrying  with  it  destruc- 
 tion— in  the  stars,  which  look  down  upon 
 thee  from  such  remote  regions,  as  if  they 
 would  say,  "  How  far,  0  man !  art  thou 
 cast  out  from  thy  home ! " — in  the  flower 
 of  the  field,  which,  in  its  transient  bloom- 
 ing and  fiding,  depicts  thy  own  brief 
 existence  upon  earth  —  in  the  midnight 
 hour,  when  the  church-bell  strikes  upon 
 thy  ear,  like  the  pulse  of  time,  which 
 rapidly  hastes  away,  and  calls  out  to  thee, 
 47 
 
REPENTANCE. 
 
 to  hasten  to  save  tliy  soul.  Nay,  where 
 are  we  not  siirroundcd  by  awakening  voices 
 of  this  nature  ?  They  sit  upon  the  tomb- 
 stones of  our  chureliyards,  and  their 
 language  is,  "  It  is  appointed  unto  men 
 once  to  die,  and  after  that  the  judgment." 
 Their  warning  voice  resounds  from  every 
 funeral  car  that  rolls  past  thee.  It  may 
 be  heard  on  every  birthday  which  thou 
 celebratest ;  in  every  fit  of  illness  by  which 
 thou  art  attacked ;  in  every  danger  that 
 threatens  thy  life  ;  as  well  as  in  that  secret 
 uneasiness  which  incessantly  steals  through 
 thy  soul.  Br.  Kmmmacher. 
 
 EEPENTANCE— not  Censurable. 
 
 If  a  man  has  murdered  his  friend  and 
 benefactor,  and  if,  when  brought  to  re- 
 pentance, we  find  him  labouring  under  the  j 
 heaviest  sorrow,  it  is  not  his  repentance 
 that  we  condemn,  but  the  crime  which 
 brought  this  distress  upon  him.  In  like 
 manner  the  griefs  of  the  penitent  are  to 
 be  charged,  not  to  the  account  of  religion, 
 as  so  many  drawbacks  from  its  felicity  ; 
 but  to  the  account  of  sin,  as  so  many 
 additions  to  the  dreadful  catalogue  of  its 
 mischiefs,  and  pains,  and  plagues.  In  re- 
 pentance itself,  considered  as  contrition  for 
 sin  and  hatred  to  it,  arising  from  a  timely 
 discovery  of  our  guilt  and  danger,  there 
 is  no  ground  for  pain,  but  much  for  grati- 
 tude and  satisfaction.  It  never  needeth  to 
 be  repented  of.  Dr.  Bunting. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Danger  of  Delaying. 
 
 There  be  many  to-morrow  Christians  that 
 set  their  day  with  God ;  at  such  a  day  they 
 will  repent,  and  not  before,  as  if  they  had 
 the  lordship  of  time,  and  the  monopoly  of 
 grace ;  whereas  time  and  grace  are  only 
 at  God's  disposing,  as  St.  Ambrose  saith, 
 "  God  hath  promised  pardon  to  the  peni- 
 tent, but  He  hath  not  promised  to-morrow 
 to  the  negligent."  As  St.  Augustine  saith, 
 "  He  that  gives  pardon  to  the  penitent, 
 doth  not  always  give  repentance  to  the 
 sinner."  If  I  put  God  oft'  to-day,  He  may 
 put  me  oft'  to-morrow  ;  if  I  put  oft'  this 
 hour  of  grace,  I  may  never  have  another 
 gracious  hour ;  to-day  if  I  put  by  His 
 hands  of  mercy,  to-morrow  He  may  stretch 
 out  His  hand  of  justice.  It  is  true,  whilst 
 I  have  time,  I  may  come  in ;  but  it  is  also 
 true,  when  I  would  come  in,  I  may  not 
 have  time.  This  is  certain,  when  I  repent 
 I  shall  have  mercy ;  but  this  is  as  certain, 
 when  1  would  have  mercy  I  may  not  find 
 rej)entance.  Anon. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Definitions  of. 
 
 Repentance  unto  life  is  a  saving  grace, 
 whereby  a  sinner,  out  of  a  true  sense  of 
 his  sin,  and  an  apprehension  of  the  mercy 
 of  God  in  Christ,  doth,  with  grief  and 
 hatred  of  his  sin,  turn  from  it  unto  God, 
 
 with  full  purpose  of  and  endeavour  after 
 new  obedience.  Assembly's  Catechlsin. 
 
 Repentance  is  that  sorrow  of  mind  which 
 arises  from  a  sense  of  sins  committed,  and 
 of  a  vicious  habit  contracted  by  customary 
 sinning,  as  also  from  a  conviction  of  guilt 
 and  fear  of  punishment;  and  which  pro- 
 duces a  desire  of  deliverance,  a  serious  en- 
 deavour after  a  better  change  of  life,  and 
 an  observance  to  all  the  Divine  command- 
 ments. Limborch. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Description  of. 
 
 On  bended  knees,  replete  with  godly  grief. 
 
 See,  where  the  mourner  kneels  to  seek 
 relief; 
 
 No  "  God  I  thank  Thee,"  freezes  on  his 
 tongue. 
 
 For  works  of  merit  that  to  him  belong ; 
 
 Deep  in  his  soul  conviction's  ploughshare 
 rings. 
 
 And  to  the  surface  his  corruption  brings ; 
 
 He  loathes  himself,  in  lowest  dust  he  lies. 
 
 And  all  abased  "  Unclean,  unclean,"  he 
 cries. 
 
 From  his  full  heart  pours  forth  the  gush- 
 ing plea, 
 
 "  God  of  the  lost,  be  merciful  to  me  !" 
 
 The  light  of  life  descends  in  heavenly  rays. 
 
 And  angels  shout,  and  sing,  "  Behold,  he 
 prays."  W.  Holmes, 
 
 REPENTANCE— Incomplete. 
 
 1.  He  that  leaves  not  all  sin  ;  2.  He 
 that  leaves  sin  only  outwardly  ;  3.  He 
 that  leaves  sin  because  he  cannot  commit 
 it ;  4.  He  that  leaves  sin  out  of  sinister 
 respects  ;  5.  He  that  leaves  one  sin  for 
 another;  6.  He  that  leaves  sin  but  for  a 
 time ;  7.  He  that  leaves  sin,  but  does  not 
 endeavour  to  subdue  it ;  8.  He  that  so 
 turns  from  sin  as  not  to  turn  to  God — has 
 not  had  complete  repentance.       Clarkson. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Late. 
 
 Late  repentance  is  seldom  true,  but  true 
 repentance  is  never  too  late.  Venning. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Nature  of. 
 
 Repentance,  as  explained  by  John's 
 ministry,  is  a  conviction  of  the  fact  of 
 sin,  but  a  sharp  and  painful  conviction.  A 
 conviction  that  never  produced  humility, 
 never  sighed,  never  wept,  never  "  wept 
 apart,"  and  never  sought  solitude  for  the 
 purpose  of  prayer  and  reflection,  is  not 
 that  which  is  an  element  of  true  repent- 
 ance. It  is  a  serious  and  painful  appre- 
 hension of  danger.  Hence  John  asked  the 
 Pharisees  and  Sadducees  that  came  to  his 
 baptism,  "  Who  hath  warned  you  to  flee 
 from  the  wrath  to  come  ?  " 
 
 Repentance  is  an  humble  confession  of 
 sin.  The  people  confessed  generally  to 
 John  J   for  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
 
EEPENTANCE— REPROACHES. 
 
 739 
 
 enter  into  the  particulars  of  each  case ; 
 but  to  God  thejf  confessed  their  sins  in 
 detail. 
 
 Repentance  is  fruitful.  Under  its  in- 
 fluence the  churl  becomes  liberal ;  the  un- 
 just becomes  righteous  ;  and  those  who 
 had  formerly  been  careless  of  their  spiritual 
 interests  wait  upon  God  in  the  use  of  every 
 means  of  grace. 
 
 Repentance  is  despairing,  but  hopeful. 
 The  people  who  were  awakened  under 
 John's  ministry  felt  that  in  themselves 
 there  was  no  help;  and  he  taught  the 
 whole  of  them  to  wait  for  Christ  the 
 Saviour.  S.  Watson. 
 
 REPENTANCE— Refusal  of. 
 
 If  we  refuse  to  repent  now,  we  do  not 
 so  much  refuse  to  do  our  own  duty  as  to 
 accept  of  a  reward.  It  is  the  preatest  and 
 dearest  blessing  that  ever  God  gave  to 
 men,  that  they  may  repent :  and  therefore 
 to  deny  it  or  to  delay  it,  is  to  refuse 
 health,  brought  by  the  skill  of  the  Phy- 
 sician; it  is  to  refuse  liberty  indulged  to 
 us  by  our  gracious  Lord.  £p.  Tai/tor, 
 
 REPENTANCE— Tears  of. 
 
 Very  different  from  the  tears  which  are 
 shed  over  outward  goods  which  have  de- 
 parted, or  inward  desires  which  have  been 
 disappointed,  are  those  tears  which  our 
 Lord  blesseth,  when  He  said,  "  Blessed 
 are  ye  that  weep  now,  for  ye  shall  laugh." 
 Those  are  the  tears  of  repentance  which 
 Peter  shed  when  he  went  out  and  wept 
 bitterly ;  the  tears  with  which  Mary  Mag- 
 dalene washed  her  Lord's  feet,  wiping 
 them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  They 
 are  the  tears  which  burst  from  our  hearts, 
 ■when  we  looked  upon  Him  whom  we 
 pierced,  and  weep  as  a  mother  that  weep- 
 eth  for  her  only  son.  E.  Irving. 
 
 REPENTANCE— True  and  Fake. 
 
 False  repentance  is  the  offspring  of  fear; 
 true,  of  light  from  heaven,  which  makes 
 sin  appear  exceedingly  sinful.  False  re- 
 pentance seeks  relief  from  its  fears,  and 
 builds  its  hope  on  better  obedience,  sus- 
 picious of  the  atonement  made  on  the 
 cross ;  true,  confides  in  this  alone,  having 
 the  heart  sprinkled  with  the  blood  of 
 Christ  from  an  evil  conscience.  False  re- 
 pentance can  consist  with  an  aversion  to 
 God  and  His  law ;  in  true,  there  is  a  love 
 to  both.  False  repentance  is  temporary 
 respecting  gross  sins,  and  then  settles  into 
 a  despicable  form  of  religion;  true,  is  an 
 abiding  self-abasement  before  God,  for 
 which  there  appears  abundant  cause,  from 
 growth  in  the  knowledge  of  Him  and  of 
 ourselves.  In  false  repentance  some  be- 
 loved lust  or  base  temper  is  spared,  and  a 
 partial  obedience  is  offered  up  to  God ;  in 
 true,  the  change  is  universal,  and  followed 
 
 with  all  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  False  re- 
 pentance will  lead  a  man  to  obey  God  only 
 so  far  as  he  may  without  persecution  or 
 reproach ;  true,  is  content  to  go  through 
 evil  repoi't,  content  with  the  praise  of  God, 
 let  men  think  or  do  as  they  please.     Venn, 
 
 REPENTANCE  UNTO  DEATH. 
 
 There  is  a  repentance  unto  death.  Ju- 
 das's  repentance  was  the  torturing  anguish 
 of  an  awakened  conscience.  There  was  in 
 it  self-condemnation,  "  I  have  sinned;"  but 
 I  there  was  no  true  contrition,  no  broken 
 spirit,  no  melting  of  heart  toward  God. 
 The  regret  for  having  sinned,  springing 
 from  no  other  cause  than  horror  of  sin's 
 punishment,  is  many  a  time  felt  very 
 dreadfully  on  the  bed  of  death  by  the 
 ungodly  who  are  dying  in  their  sins ;  and 
 it  is  most  fearfully  realised  and  exemplified 
 in  hell  itself.  Br.  Wardlaw. 
 
 REPENTANCE  AND  FAITH. 
 
 Repentance  is  faith's  usher,  and  dews 
 all  her  way  with  tears.  Repentance  reads 
 the  law  and  weeps;  faith  reads  the  Gospel 
 and  comforts.  Repentance  looks  on  the 
 rigorous  brow  of  Moses,  faith  beholds  the 
 sweet  countenance  of  Christ  Jesus. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 REPROACHERS— Character  of. 
 
 One  compares  a  reproacher  to  the  stone 
 that  struck  down  Nebuchadnezzar's  image, 
 whose  head  was  of  gold,  and  the  breast  and 
 upper  parts  silver,  and  the  feet  clay;  the 
 stone  came  and  struck  the  feet,  the  clay, 
 and  struck  it  down  ;  so  reproachers  do  not 
 look  at  the  gold  and  silver,  the  parts  and 
 graces  of  God's  people,  but  if  there  be  any 
 elai/,  any  infirmities  or  sins,  they  strike  at 
 t/iem,  and  so  fell  them  down.  Erasmus 
 tells  of  one  who  collected  all  the  lame  and 
 defective  verses  in  Homer's  Works,  but 
 passed  over  all  that  were  excellent.  So 
 these,  if  they  can  spy  anything  defective 
 and  evil,  they  observe  it,  and  gather  all 
 they  can  together,  but  will  take  no  notice 
 of  that  which  is  good  and  praiseworthy; 
 like  the  kite  who  flies  over  the  fair 
 meadows  and  flowers,  and  lights  only  upon 
 the  carrion,  or  like  flies  that  love  only  to 
 be  upon  the  sore,  galled  places  of  the 
 horse's  back.  Jeremiah  Burroughs. 
 
 REPROACHES  —Treating. 
 
 As  St.  Paul :  when  the  viper  came  upon 
 his  hand,  he  shaked  it  off;  some  would 
 have  swelled,  and  almost  died  at  the  very 
 sight  of  such  a  thing,  but  he  did  but  shake 
 it  off.  And  so  should  we  do  by  our  re- 
 proaches ;  when  reproaches  are  opposed 
 they  do  grow  ;  as  hair,  the  more  it  is  cut 
 the  more  it  grows,  when  they  are  despised 
 they  will  vanish  away.  Ibid, 
 
7-10 
 
 EEPROACHES— RESIGNATION. 
 
 EEPKOACHES— Treating. 
 
 Pericles,  rs  he  was  sitting  before  others 
 in  a  meeting,  a  foul-mouthed  fellow  railed 
 upon  him  all  the  day  long  ;  at  night,  when 
 it  was  dark,  and  the  meeting  broke  up,  the 
 fellow  followed  him  and  railed  at  him,  even 
 to  his  door,  and  he  took  no  notice  of  him 
 wliat  he  said;  but  when  he  came  home, 
 this  is  all  he  said  to  him,  "  It  is  dark,  I 
 pray  let  my  man  light  you  home." 
 
 Jeremiah  Burrouglis. 
 
 We  know  many  times  Christ  Himself 
 took  no  notice  of  a  gi'eat  deal  of  evil  that 
 was  said  against  Him,  so  that  the  rulers 
 wondered,  "  How  is  it  that  they  lay  these 
 things  to  your  charge,  and  you  answer 
 nothing?"  Ibid. 
 
 If  reproached  as  a  dissembler,  study 
 to  be  the  more  bland,  candid,  ingenuous, 
 and  sincere.  If  reproached  for  covetous- 
 ness,  labour  to  manifest  a  larger  measure 
 of  beneficence,  generosity,  and  Christian 
 charity.  If  reproached  for  pride,  cultivate 
 more  assiduously  the  mind  of  Christ  in 
 its  self-renunciation  and  genuine  humility. 
 If  reproached  as  a  bigot,  cherish  more 
 earnestly  the  brotherly  kindness  and  love 
 which  say,  "  Grace  be  with  all  them  who 
 love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity  and 
 truth."  John  Bate. 
 
 REPEOOr— FideL'ty  in  Giving. 
 
 The  Rev.  .Joseph  Alleine  was  very  faith- 
 ful and  impartial  in  administering  reproof. 
 Once,  when  employed  in  a  work  of  this 
 kind,  he  said  to  a  Christian  friend,  "  I  am 
 now  going  about  that  which  is  likely  to 
 make  a  very  dear  aud  obliging  friend  be- 
 come an  enemy.  But,  however,  it  cannot 
 be  omitted ;  it  is  better  to  lose  man's 
 favour  than  God's."  But,  so  far  from  be- 
 coming his  enemy  for  his  conscientious 
 faithfulness  to  him,  he  rather  loved  him 
 the  more  after,  as  long  as  he  lived. 
 
 J.  WIntecross, 
 
 REPROOF— of  a  Good  Man, 
 
 The  reproof  of  a  good  man  resembles 
 fuller's  earth :  it  not  only  removes  the 
 gpots  from  our  character,  but  it  rubs  ofl" 
 when  it  is  dry.  Wilkinson. 
 
 REPROOF— Taking. 
 
 Some  persons  take  reproof  goodhu- 
 mouredly  enough,  unless  you  are  so  un- 
 lucky as  to  hit  at  a  sore  place.  Then  they 
 wince  and  writhe,  and  start  up,  and  knock 
 you  down  for  your  impertinence,  or  wish 
 you  good  morning.  S.are. 
 
 Lais  broke  her  looking-glass,  because  it 
 showed  the  wrinkles  of  her  face;  many 
 men  are  angry  with  them  that  tell  them 
 
 their  faults,  when  they  should  be  angry 
 only  with  the  faults  that  are  told  thera. 
 
 Venning. 
 RESIGNATION— Desired. 
 Come,  Resignation,  spirit  meek, 
 And  let  me  kiss  thy  placid  cheek, 
 And  read  in  thy  pale  eye  serene 
 Their  blessing,  who  by  faith  can  wean 
 Their  hearts  froui  sense,  and  le.irn  to  love 
 God  only,  and  the  jovs  above.  Keble. 
 
 RESIGNATION— Happy  in. 
 
 A  brother  -^.nd  sister  were  once  playing 
 in  the  field,  when  he  lost  a  ring  which  was 
 the  Chriitmas  gift  of  a  friend,  his  choicest 
 earthly  treasure.  After  searching  for  it  in 
 vain,  he  went  with  many  tears  to  a  retired 
 spot,  kneeled  aud  prayed.  And  did  God 
 answer  his  prayer,  so  that  he  found  the 
 ring  ?  No.  But  said  the  little  boy,  "  He 
 made  me  hapjiy  to  lose  it."  Christian 
 mother,  have  you  lost  your  only  earthly 
 treasure,  and  have  you  gone  to  the  throne 
 of  grace  in  prayer,  and  foand  that  though 
 you  could  not  iind  again  your  much-loved 
 child,  God  has  made  you  happy  to  lose  it. 
 Have  you,  bereaved  wife  ?  Husband  ?  Sis- 
 ter ?  Brother  ?  Friend  ?  Oh,  when  we  can 
 feel  happy  to  lose  any  blessing  which  our 
 Heavenly  Father  has  given  us,  and  then 
 taken  away,  we  are  beautifully  resigned  to 
 His  will.  John  Bate. 
 
 RESIGNATION— Nature  of. 
 
 Pain's  furnace-heat  within  me  quivers, 
 
 God's  breath  upon  the  flame  doth  blow  j 
 And  all  my  heart  in  anguish  shivers 
 And  trembles  at  the  fiery  glow : 
 And  yet  I  whisper:  As  God  ivill! 
 And  in  His  hottest  fire  stand  still. 
 He  comes,  and  lays  my  heart,  all  heated. 
 
 On  the  hard  anvil,  minded  so. 
 Into  His  own  fair  shape  to  beat  it 
 
 With  His  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow : 
 
 And  yet  I  whisper  :  As  God  will  ! 
 And  at  His  heaviest  blows  hold  still. 
 He  takes  ray  softened  heart  and  beats  it; 
 
 The  sparks  fly  oflf  at  every  blow ; 
 
 He  turns  it  o'er  and  o'er  and  heats  it, 
 
 And  lets  it  cool,  and  makes  it  glow  : 
 
 And  yet  I  whisper :  As  God  will ! 
 
 And  in  His  mighty  hand  hold  stilL 
 
 Wliy  should  I  murmur  ?  for  the  sorrow 
 
 Thus  only  longer-lived  would  be ; 
 Its  end  may  come,  and  will  to-morrow. 
 When  God  has  done  His  work  in  me. 
 So  I  say  trusting  :  As  God  mil ! 
 And,  trusting  to  the  end,  hold  still. 
 
 He  kindles,  for  my  profit  purely, 
 
 Affliction's  glouing,  fiery  brand; 
 And  all  His  heaviest  blows  are  surely 
 Inflicted  by  a  Master  hand : 
 
 So  I  say  praising  :  As  God  icill! 
 And  hope  in  Him,  and  sufi'er  still. 
 
 Julius  Sturm. 
 
RESIGNATION— RESOLUTIONS. 
 
 741 
 
 EE3IGNATI0N— Support  of. 
 
 Away,  away  with  vain  complaints ; 
 
 My  God  !  I  own  Thy  gentle  sway ; 
 Grateful  for  all  Thy  mercy  grants. 
 
 Resigned  to  all  it  takes  away. 
 Upheld  by  Thee  I  need  no  aid ; 
 
 Assured  by  Thee  I  feel  no  fear. 
 Why  should  I  doubt  what  Thou  hast  said  ? 
 What  can  I  need  when  Thou  art  near  ? 
 
 Henceforth  let  human  weal  or  woe. 
 
 At  Thy  command,  my  trial  prove ; 
 For  both  are  welcome,  while  I  know 
 
 That  both  are  measured  out  by  love. 
 And  be  it  mine  with  equal  joy. 
 
 To  do,  or  suffer,  Thy  behest. 
 Let  duty  now  each  thought  employ, 
 
 And  patience  guide  me  to  my  rest. 
 
 Bella. 
 
 RESIGNATION  OP  ALL  TO  GOD. 
 
 Since  'tis  Thy  sentence  I  should  part 
 With  the  most   precious  treasure  of   my 
 
 heart, 
 I  freely  that  and  more  resign  ; 
 My  heart  itself,  as  its  delights,  is  Thine. 
 IVIy  little  all  I  give  to  Thee  : 
 Thou  gav'st  a  greater  gift.  Thy  Son,  to 
 
 me. 
 Take  all,  great  God  !  I  will  not  grieve ; 
 But  still  will  wish  that  I  had  still  to  give. 
 I  hear  Thy  voice  ;  Thou  bidd'st  me  quit 
 My  paradise ;  I  bless  and  do  submit : 
 I  will  not  murmur  at  Tliy  word, 
 Kor    beg    Thy   angel   to   sheath    up   his 
 
 sword.  Kehle. 
 
 RESOLUTION— Benefit  of. 
 
 A  good  resolution  is  the  most  fortifying 
 armour  a  good  man  can  wear.  That  can 
 defend  him  against  all  the  unwelcome 
 shuffles  that  the  poor  rude  world  can  put 
 upon  him.  Without  this,  like  hot  iron  he 
 hisses  at  every  drop  that  finds  him  ;  but 
 with  it  he  can  be  a  servant  as  well  as  a 
 lord;  and  have  the  same  pleasantness  in 
 the  shakes  of  fortune,  that  he  carries  in  her 
 softest  smiles.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 RESOLUTION— Necessity  of. 
 
 Resolution  is  necessary  to  guard  us 
 against  dejection ;  for  the  world  will  beat 
 that  man  whom  fortune  buffets.  And  un- 
 less, by  this,  he  c;m  ward  off  the  blows,  he 
 will  be  sure  to  feel  the  greatest  burden  in 
 his  own  mind.  A  wise  man  makes  trou- 
 ble less  by  fortitude :  but  to  a  fool  it  becomes 
 heavier  by  stooping  to  it.  Ibid. 
 
 RESOLUTION— Power  of. 
 
 It  was  resolution  made  Empedocles  sa- 
 crifice himself  to  the  flames  of  Etna.  It 
 was  resolution  made  Anaxarchus,  when  his 
 bones  were  crushed,  make  sport  with  his 
 torments,  and  cry  out  "  Break,  break  the 
 carcase  of  Anaxarchus,  but  his  mind  you 
 
 shall  never  break."  It  was  resolution  made 
 Regulusfling  himself  intothemerciless  arms 
 of  his  enemies,  and  suffer  himself  to  be  stung 
 and  pricked  to  death.  It  was  resolution 
 made  Attains  sit  down  cheerfully  in  the 
 fiery  chair  his  persecutors  had  prepared  for 
 him,  and  say,  "  It's  not  we  that  do  eat 
 children,  but  it's  you  that  devour  innocent 
 Christians."  It  was  resolution  made  Blan- 
 dina  encourage  her  fellow-Cliristian, though 
 she  was  wounded,  torn,  bruised,  racked, 
 and  miserably  handled.  It  was  resolution 
 made  Job  bear  his  losses,  and  ulcers,  with 
 invincible  magnanimity.  It  was  resolution 
 made  David  run  through  a  troop  and  leap 
 over  walls  (Ps.  xviii,  29).  It  was  his  reso- 
 lution made  these  words  drop  from  him  : 
 "  I  have  sworn,  and  will  perform  it,  that  I 
 will  keep  Thy  righteous  judgments.  I  will 
 speak  of  Thy  testimonies  before  kings,  and 
 will  not  be  ashamed.  And  I  will  delight  my- 
 self in  Thy  commandments.  My  hands  will 
 I  lift  up  unto  Thy  precepts,  which  I  have 
 loved ;  and  I  will  meditate  in  Thy  statutes" 
 (Ps.  cxix,  46—48, 106).  Anthoni/  Horneck. 
 
 RESOLUTION— against  Sin. 
 
 "  I  said,  I  will  take  heed  to  my  ways, 
 that  I  sin  not  with  my  tongue ;  I  will 
 keep  my  mouth  with  a  bridle,  while  the 
 wicked  are  before  me"  (Ps.  xxxix,  1). 
 David  highly  resolves  so  to  bridle  and  muz- 
 zle up  his  moutli,  that  he  would  not  break 
 out  into  any  impatient  or  unbeseeming 
 speeches,  that  might  give  the  wicked  any 
 advantage  to  reproach  Religion,  or  to  blas- 
 pheme the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  Anselme 
 was  a  man  of  holy  resolution :  "  I  had  ra- 
 ther," saith  he,  "  go  to  hell  pure  from  sin, 
 than  to  heaven  polluted  with  that  filth." 
 And  saith  another,  "  I  will  rather  leap  into 
 a  bonfire,  than  wilfully  to  sin  against  (ioil." 
 T.  Brooks. 
 
 RESOLUTIONS— Deceitful. 
 
 Epictetus  tells  us  of  a  gentleman  re- 
 turning from  banishment,  who  in  his  jour- 
 ney towards  home,  called  at  his  house,  told 
 a  sad  story  of  an  imprudent  life,  the  great- 
 est part  of  which  being  now  spent,  he  was 
 resolved  for  the  future  to  live  philo^oplii- 
 cally,  and  entertain  no  business,  to  be  can- 
 didate for  no  employment,  not  to  go  to  the 
 court,  nor  to  salute  Cajsar  with  ambitions 
 attendances,  but  to  study  and  worship  tlu? 
 gods,  and  die  willingly,  when  nature  or 
 necessity  called  him.  It  may  be  this  man 
 believed  himself,  but  Epictetus  did  not. 
 And  he  had  reason ;  for  letters  from  Caj- 
 sar  met  him  at  the  doors,  and  invited  him 
 to  court ;  and  he  forgot  all  his  promises, 
 which  were  warm  upon  his  lips;  and  grew 
 populous,  secular,  and  ambitious,  and  gave 
 the  gods  thanks  for  his  preferment.  Thus 
 many  men  leave  the  world,  when  their 
 fortune  has  left  them ;  and  they  are  severe 
 
742 
 
 EESOLUTIONS— RESTITUTION. 
 
 and  philosophical,  and  retired  for  ever,  if 
 for  ever  it  be  impossible  to  return;  but 
 let  a  prosperous  sunshine  warm  and  refresh 
 their  sadness,  and  make  it  but  possible  to 
 break  their  purposes,  and  there  needs  no 
 more  temptation,  their  own  heart  is  enough; 
 they  are  like  "  Ephraim  in  the  day  of 
 battle,  starting  aside  like  a  broken  bow." 
 B^.  Taylor. 
 
 EESOLUTIONS— Transient. 
 
 Theocritus  tells  of  a  fisherman  that 
 dreamed  he  had  taken  "  a  fish  of  gold,"  on 
 which,  being  overjoyed,  he  made  a  vow  that 
 he  would  never  fish  more;  but  when  he 
 waked  he  soon  declared  his  vow  to  be  null, 
 because  he  found  his  golden  fish  was  es- 
 caped away  through  the  holes  of  his  eyes, 
 when  he  first  opened  them.  Just  so  we 
 do  in  the  purposes  of  religion.  Sometimes, 
 in  a  good  mood,  we  seem  to  see  heaven 
 opened,  and  all  the  streets  of  the  new 
 Jerusalem  paved  with  gold  and  precious 
 stones,  and  we  are  ravished  with  spiritual 
 apprehensions,  and  resolve  never  to  return 
 to  the  low  afiections  of  the  world  and  the 
 impulse  adherences  of  sin ;  but  when  this 
 fiash  of  lightning  is  gone,  and  we  converse 
 again  with  the  inclinations  and  habitual 
 desires  of  our  false  hearts,  those  other  de- 
 sires and  fine  considerations  disband  and 
 the  resolutions  taken  in  that  pious  fit  melt 
 into  indifl"erence  and  old  customs. 
 
 Hid. 
 
 fiESPONSIBILITY— Individual. 
 
 Daniel  Webster  was  once  asked,  "  What 
 is  the  most  important  thought  you  ever 
 entertained?"  He  replied,  after  a  moment's 
 reflection,  "  The  most  important  thought 
 I  ever  had,  was  my  individual  responsibi- 
 lity to  God."  Anon. 
 
 RESPONSIBILITY— Moral. 
 
 To  be  morally  responsible,  a  man  must 
 be  a  free,  rational,  moral  agent.  1.  He 
 must  be  in  present  possession  of  his  reason, 
 to  distinguish  truth  from  falsehood.  2.  He 
 must  also  have  in  exercise  a  moral  sense, 
 to  distinguish  right  from  wrong.  3.  His 
 will,  in  its  volitions  or  executive  acts,  must 
 be  self-decided,  i.  e.  determined  by  its 
 own  spontaneous  affections  and  desires.  If 
 any  of  these  are  wanting,  the  man  is  in- 
 sane, and  neither  free  nor  responsible. 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 REST— Description  of. 
 
 We  are  told  in  a  certain  legend  that  one 
 day  Rabbi  Judah  and  his  brethren,  the 
 seven  pillars  of  wisdom,  sat  in  the  Temple 
 on  a  feast  day,  dututing  about  rest.  One 
 said  that  it  was  to  have  attained  sufficient 
 wealth,  yet  without  sin.  The  second,  that 
 it  was  fame  and  praise  of  all  men.  The 
 third,  that  it  was  the  possession  of  power 
 
 to  rule  the  state.  The  fourth,  that  it  con- 
 sisted only  in  a  happy  home.  The  fifth,  that 
 it  must  be  in  the  old  age  of  one  who  is  rich, 
 powerful,  famous,  surrounded  by  children's 
 children.  The  sixth,  said  that  all  that 
 were  vain,  unless  a  man  kept  all  the  ritual 
 law  of  Moses.  And  Rabbi  Judah,  the 
 venerable,  the  tallest  of  the  brothers,  said, 
 "  Ye  have  all  spoken  wisely,  but  one  thing 
 more  is  necessary :  he  can  only  find  rest, 
 who  to  all  these  things  addeth  this,  that 
 he  keepeth  the  tradition  of  the  elders." 
 
 There  sat  in  the  court  a  fair-haired  boy, 
 playing  with  his  lilies  in  his  lap,  and 
 hearing  the  talk,  dropped  them  with  asto- 
 nishment from  his  hands,  and  looked  up — 
 that  boy  of  twelve,  and  said,  "  Nay,  nay, 
 fathers,  he  only  loveth  rest  who  loves  his 
 brother  as  himself,  and  God  with  his  whole 
 heart  and  soul !  He  is  greater  than  wealth 
 and  fame  and  power,  happier  than  a 
 happy  home,  happy  without  it,  better  than 
 honoured  age,  he  is  a  law  to  himself,  and 
 above  all  tradition."  The  doctors  were 
 astonished.  They  said.  When  Christ  cometh, 
 shall  He  tell  us  greater  things  ?  And  they 
 thanked  God ;  for,  they  said,  old  men  are 
 not  always  wise  ;  yet  God  be  praised,  that 
 out  of  the  mouth  of  this  young  suckling 
 has  His  praise  become  perfect.   T.  Farker. 
 
 REST— True. 
 
 True  rest  is  not  attain'd  by  spending  of 
 
 the  year 
 In  pleasure,  soft,  sweet  shades,  down  beds, 
 
 and  dainty  cheer. 
 These  leave  the  soul  as  empty  of  content, 
 As  doth  a  di'eam,  when  time  of  sleep  is 
 
 spent. 
 There's  more  true  joy  in  godly  sorrow's 
 
 tears. 
 Than  in  sin's  pleasures ;  he  that  truly  fears 
 The   God  of  heaven,  and  humbly  walks 
 
 with  Him, 
 He,   he's   the   man  that  hath   a  heaven 
 
 within.  Venning. 
 
 RESTITUTION— Definition  of. 
 
 Restitution  is  that  act  of  justice  by 
 which  we  restore  to  another  that  of 
 which  we  have  unjustly  deprived  him. 
 
 J.  Farrar. 
 
 RESTITUTION— Necessity  of. 
 
 There  is  a  story  of  a  man  who  gave  much 
 alms  to  the  poor,  who,  walking  one  day 
 very  solitary,  an  angel  met  him  in  likeness 
 of  a  man,  and  walking  with  him,  brought 
 him  at  last  to  a  deep  valley,  where  was  a 
 pit  burning  with  fire  and  brimstone,  and 
 therein  three  gibbets ;  upon  one  of  them 
 did  hang  a  man  by  the  tongue,  upon 
 another  a  man  by  the  hands,  and  on  the 
 third  hung  no  man  at  all.  The  good  man, 
 much  marvelling  at  the  strangeness  of 
 such  a  sight,  asked  the  angel  what  the 
 
EESURRECTION. 
 
 743 
 
 men  were  that  Tianged  in  those  tormenting 
 flames.  He  told  him  that  he  which 
 hanged  by  the  tongue  was  his  grandfather, 
 who  purchased  the  hind  and  house  wherein 
 he  now  dwelt,  by  false  oaths,  lying,  and 
 perjury,  and  was  therefore  hanged  by  the 
 tongue;  and  that  the  other  was  his  own 
 father,  who  by  strong  hand  Icept  that 
 which  his  father  before  him  had  wickedly 
 gotten;  and  that  the  third  gallows  was 
 prepared  for  him,  unless  he  made  restitu- 
 tion, and  so  the  angel  vanished.  The  man 
 being  left  alone,  went  sadly  home,  and  the 
 next  day  sent  for  the  true  owners  and 
 restored  the  lands  unto  them ;  whereat  his 
 wife  and  children  were  much  amazed, 
 saying  that  he  would  make  them  all  beg- 
 gars. "  Oh,"  says  he,  "  it  is  better  to  beg 
 a  little  while  in  this  world  than  to  burn 
 for  ever  in  the  world  to  come;  better  to 
 lose  hou-^e  and  lands  here,  than  to  be  de- 
 prived of  God  and  goodness  hereafter." 
 This  may  be  a  story,  but  the  moral  is  good, 
 and  setteth  out  unto  us,  that  ill-gotten 
 goods  mver  prosper  in  the  end,  and  that 
 there  is  a  necessity  of  restoring  what  hath 
 been  unjustly  taken  away.  Spencer. 
 
 EESURRECTION— Bodies  of  the. 
 
 We  shall  have  b(jdies  after  the  resurrec- 
 tion, for  "  all  that  are  in  their  graves 
 shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
 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."  Our  bodies  will,  of  course, 
 be  of  a  less  spiritual  nature  than  the  soul, 
 otherwise  two  souls  will  be  conjoined  in  one 
 person.  We  naturally  suppose  that  the 
 object  of  the  body  will  be  to  relate  the  soul 
 to  an  external  world ;  as  glass,  in  the 
 telescope,  through  a  grosser  object  than  the 
 eye,  helps  vision,  so  the  body  will  aid  the 
 soul  hereafter,  as  here.  Tliis  we  all  admit. 
 iV^.  Adams. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Body  of  the. 
 
 1.  The  body  of  the  resurrection  will  be 
 as  strictly  identical  with  the  body  of  death, 
 as  the  body  of  death  is  with  the  body  of 
 birth. 
 
 2.  Each  soul  will  have  an  indubitable 
 intuitive  consciousness  that  its  new  body  is 
 identical  with  the  old. 
 
 3.  Each  friend  will  recognise  the  indi- 
 vidual characteristics  of  the  soul  in  the  per- 
 fectly transparent  expression  of  the  new 
 body.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Difficulties  Met. 
 
 Against  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testa- 
 ment on  this  subject  many  philosophic  dif- 
 ficulties have  been  nr.:ed.  But  none  of 
 these,  that  have  fallen  under  our  notice, 
 are  insuperable.  For  example,  the  infidel 
 objector  is  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how,  after 
 
 Wycliffe's  corpse  was  burnt  to  ashes,  and 
 these  ashes  were  cast  into  the  river ;  carried 
 into  the  sea,  and  thence  dispersed  in  a 
 thousand  directions,  the  particles  can  ever 
 again  be  reunited.  The  Christian  philo- 
 sopher sees  no  difficulty  in  the  case.  Did 
 any  of  these  changes  happen  to  the  Re- 
 former's body  irrespectively  of  those 
 natural  laws  which  God  has  ordained  ? 
 And,  if  even  so,  is  it  not  just  as  easy  for 
 Him  to  reverse  their  action  as  it  was  to 
 give  them  that  action  originally  ?  It  is  a 
 well-known  chemical  law,  that,  by  the  use 
 of  proper  agencies,  bodies  thoroughly  dis- 
 solved  may  be  recovered  and  restored  to 
 their  pristine  shape.  A  single  illustration 
 may  suffice.  If  we  throw  a  lump  of  solid 
 camphor  into  a  vessel  of  spirits  of  wine,  it 
 will  soon  be  completely  dissolved ;  never- 
 theless, by  diluting  the  spirits  of  wine  with 
 water,  we  may  recover  the  camphor  in  tiie 
 form  of  a  setliment ;  nay,  with  the  loss  of 
 a  few  grains,  we  may  restore  it  to  its  ori- 
 ginal shape.  So,  too,  of  a  silver  vase  dis- 
 solved in  aqua-fortis.  Beyond  all  contro- 
 versy, these  experiments  are,  in  the  eyes 
 of  the  philosopher,  far  less  marvellous  than 
 the  act  of  reconstituting  a  dispersed, 
 disorganized  body ;  and  yet,  bearing  in 
 mind  the  infinite  power  of  Jehovah,  we 
 can  conceive  it  just  as  easy  for  Him  thus 
 to  restore  originally  as  to  create.       Anon. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Doubt  of  the,  removed. 
 
 I  am  about  to  relate  to  you  one  of  the 
 strong  emotions  of  my  life.  I  found  my- 
 self in  the  crypt  of  a  church  at  Palermo. 
 My  friends  and  I  had  gone  down  into  it 
 without  exactly  knowing  where  we  went, 
 and  walked  with  more  of  surprise  than 
 terror  between  a  double  line  of  skeletons. 
 And  yet  the  spectacle  was  ghastly  enough. 
 Those  perpendicular  dead  bodies,  dressed 
 in  brown  garments  that  hung  loosely 
 around  their  bony  limbs,  with  crossed 
 hands,  holding  some  sort  of  shield,  with 
 their  names  written  on  it,  had  fallen  into 
 dislocated  attitudes,  even  more  grotesque 
 than  horrible.  The  portals  of  our  Gothic 
 church  cathedrals  have  no  representations 
 that  equal  this.  And  yet  we  were  not 
 conscious  of  any  terror.  Death  presented 
 us,  indeed,  with  his  material  aspect,  his 
 sad,  repulsive  aspect,  but  the  likeness  of 
 humanity  was  still  there. 
 
 With  one  word,  we  felt  God  could  call 
 those  dry  bones  to  life  again. 
 
 The  next  chamber  had  a  more  appalling 
 spectacle  in  reserve.  All  along  the  walls 
 — as  in  the  cabin  of  some  great  ship — were 
 ranged  berths  of  equal  lengths,  and  on 
 these,  dressed  in  gorgeous  attire,  hands 
 gloved,  lay  corpses  of  women,  with  dis- 
 coloured faces,  empty  eye-sockets,  siinken 
 features,  hollow  mouth,  and  wreaths  of 
 roses  upon  their  heads.     Tiiere  were  hun- 
 
714 
 
 RESURRECTION. 
 
 drcds  upon  hundreds  of  them,  in  all  the 
 po.iip  of  their  court  dresses,  and  a  nau- 
 seating smell,  the  cold,  faint  smell  of  death, 
 rose  from  the  vaults  where  the  bodies 
 were  drying. 
 
 In  the  presence  of  these  faces  with  their 
 beauty  so  inexorably  destroyed,  of  this 
 ghastly  satire  on  worldly  vanities,  I  felt 
 my  blood  congeal.  But  when  at  the  end 
 of  the  passage,  lit  by  our  guide's  torch,  a 
 well  yawned  before  us,  and  he  lowered  the 
 red  and  smoking  light  he  held  to  show  it 
 better;  when  I  saw  that  }\:ime\ess  detrihis, 
 damp,  pestilential,  which  overflowed  the 
 well's  mouth,  and  when  our  guide  said, 
 •'  This  is  the  dust  of  those  yonder ;  when 
 they  have  lain  their  time,  we  throw  them 
 in  here,"  I  remained  almost  lifeless  with 
 horror. 
 
 With  my  hand  half  plunged  in  those 
 ashes,  luoking  at  what  they  li;ul  left  on 
 my  fingers,  a  despairing  doubt  flashed 
 blightingly  across  my  soul. 
 
 As  I  fled  in  haste  from  that  fatal  crypt, 
 and  mounted  with  unsteady  step  the  stair 
 that  led  us  back  into  the  nave,  just  where 
 the  daylight  began  to  appear,  I  suddenly 
 saw  four  letters  carved  mi  the  wall,  I. N.U.I. 
 Tlien  a  voice  resounded  very  near  my 
 heart — "  Believest  thou,  that  I  am  alle  to 
 do  this  ?" 
 
 Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews, 
 yea  verily,  Thou  wilt  do  it ! 
 
 From  that  day  I  have  never  for  a  mo- 
 ment doubted  of  the  resurrection  of  the 
 dead.  Madame  de  Gas^arin. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Emblems  ol  the. 
 
 God  has  filled  all  nature  with  continual 
 emljlems  of  this  doctrine.  He  has  given 
 a  great  number  of  illustrations  in  the  ar- 
 rangements of  nature  and  Providence. 
 A\hat  is  night  but  the  death  of  day? 
 What  is  morning  but  its  resurrection  from 
 the  shades  of  d;irkness  ?  What  is  winter 
 but  the  death  of  the  year  ?  In  the  dead 
 leaves  you  see  emblems  of  death  scattered 
 wherever  you  go.  Wliat  is  spring  but  a 
 resurrection  ?  Look  at  that  unsightly  seed 
 without  any  apjiearance  of  life  thrown  into 
 the  eaith;  and  then  the  particles  sepa- 
 rating there  springs  up  the  plant !  Behold 
 it  unfolding,  and  budilhig,  and  blossoming, 
 and  casting  its  fragrance  all  around  :  that 
 is  its  resurrection.  We  see  the  insect 
 tribe  give  tlieir  eviilencc;  living  irequently 
 and  absolutely  in  different  states  and  ele- 
 ments; sometimes  crawling,  as  a  worm, 
 then  lying  in  apparent  torpur;  then  burst- 
 ing the  shell,  and  with  wings  of  beauty 
 and  activity  skimming  the  atmosphere. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Glorious. 
 
 I  have  hailed  that  glorious  sun  at  his 
 rising,  and  stood  entranced  at  his  setting 
 
 beams ;  I  have  looked  up  to  heaven  at  mid- 
 night, and  mused  on  the  moon  and  stars, 
 when  none  but  God  was  with  me.  I  have 
 sat  silent  and  solitary  in  my  closet,  and 
 thought  over,  one  by  one,  my  Saviour's 
 miracles;  I  have  pictured  to  my  mind  the 
 Almighty  moulding  the  earth  of  the  fresh 
 creation  into  a  human  form,  and  breathing 
 the  breath  of  life  into  the  nostrils  of 
 Adam  ;  but  never  has  my  heart  been  so 
 agitated  as  when  I  have  thought  of  Je- 
 hovah coming  forth  at  the  blast  of  the 
 last  trumpet  to  summon  together  the  scat- 
 tered dust  of  the  corpse  and  mould  it  into 
 a  body  spiritual,  incorruptible,  imuiortal, 
 radiant  as  the  sun,  and  fashioned  after  the 
 glorious  body  of  the  God-man. 
 
 Dr.  Thomson. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Hope  in  a. 
 
 We  may  rejoice  that  the  disc'ple  of 
 Christ  may  go  shouting  into  the  grave, 
 "O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?"  Ciiiist 
 himself  has  been  in  it,  and  sanctified  it, 
 and  blessed  it.  Besides,  the  grave  can 
 only  receive  and  claim  the  poorer  part  of 
 us.  It  only  takes  the  body;  while  the 
 soul,  the  immortal  part,  escapes  its  power. 
 You  know  you  can  seem  to  see  things 
 when  the  eye  is  shut,  and  you  dream  of 
 things  when  asleep.  And  so  the  soul  can 
 live,  and  think,  and  act,  when  the  body  is 
 in  the  grave.  You  will  sleep  in  the  grave 
 a  long,  long  time,  but  not  always.  God 
 can,  and  will  raise  up  the  body  again.  He 
 is  able.  Do  you  see  that  beautiful  little 
 liumm'ng-bird  dancing  from  flower  to 
 flower,  like  a  spirit  of  flowers  ?  He  was 
 once  confined  to  the  little  mummy  shell, 
 but  God  brought  him  out.  See  that 
 looking-glass ;  how  perfectly  you  can  see 
 your  iace  and  form,  and  every  hair  on  your 
 forehead  in  it!  But  had  you  seen  the 
 coarse  sand  lie  on  the  sea-shore,  before  the 
 workmen  began,  would  yovi  think  that 
 they  could  make  such  a  thing  from  that 
 sand  ?  So  God  will  raise  us  up  from  the 
 grave  by  His  wisdom  and  power. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 RESURRECTION— Honr  of  the. 
 
 Anticipate  the  hour. 
 
 When,  at  the  archangel's  voice,  the  slum- 
 bering dust 
 
 Shall  wake,  nor  earth,  nor  sea,  withhold 
 her  dead ; 
 
 When   starting  at   the  crash  of  bursting 
 tombs. 
 
 Of  mausoleums  rent,  and  p  ramids 
 
 Heaved  from  their  base,  the  tyrant  of  the 
 grave, 
 
 Propp'd  on  his  broken  sceptre,  while  the 
 crown 
 
 Falls    from  his  head,  beholds  his  prison- 
 house 
 
 Emptied  of  habitants ;  beholds 
 
RESUERECTIOH". 
 
 745 
 
 Mortal  in  Immortality  a>>sorb'cl, 
 Cun-ui)tible  in  iucorruption  lost.   Oisborne. 
 
 EESUERECTION— as  the  Morning. 
 
 I.  The  morning  comes  after  the  night; 
 so  the  resurrection  will  come  after  the 
 night  of  this  world  is  past  away.  "  The 
 night  is  far  spent,"  &c. 
 
 II.  The  murniug  is  often  longed  for  ;  so 
 the  saints  of  Christ  wait  for,  and  greatly 
 desire  tliat  the  day  of  their  consummate 
 blessedness  may  come. 
 
 III.  The  morning  disperses  the  darkness 
 and  brings  light,  which  maizes  mnnifest  all 
 things;  so  the  resurrection  shall  make 
 known    the    hidden    things    of    darkness. 
 
 (1)  It  shall  reveal  the  characters  of  men ; 
 
 (2)  Lay  open  tlieir  hearts;  (3)  Clear  up 
 many  of  the  mysteries  of  life ;  (4)  Dis- 
 cover the  difference  between  the  rigliteous 
 and  wicked,  and  show  their  final  destina- 
 tion. 
 
 IV.  Towards  the  morning  the  morning 
 star  appears,  which  gives  notice  of  the  day; 
 so  towards  the  morning  of  the  resurrec- 
 tion, many  signs  and  wonders  shall  appear 
 (JIatt.  xx"iv,  33). 
 
 V.  When  the  morning  is  come  the  sun 
 rises  and  usliers  in  tlie  day;  so  at  tlie 
 resurre(;tion,  Jesus,  tlie  Sun  of  Eightcoiis- 
 ness,  shall  appear  and  bring  in  the  day  of 
 eternity. 
 
 VI.  The  morning  brings  joy  and  glad- 
 ness, birds  sing,  children  sing,  &c.;  so  at 
 tlie  resurrection  joy  and  gladness  shall  be 
 to  the  righteous.  Saints  and  angels  shall 
 join  to  sing  harvest-home.  &c. 
 
 VII.  In  the  morning  persons  arise  from 
 their  beds ;  so  then  all,  good  and  bad,  shall 
 come  out  of  their  graves. 
 
 VIII.  We  can  often  tell  what  kind  of  a 
 day  we  shall  have  by  the  kind  of  morning ; 
 so  then  they  who  have  a  part  in  the  lirst 
 resurrection  shall  reign  with  Christ;  but 
 those  who  have  a  p  irt  in  the  second  shall 
 be  cast  into  the  lake  of  tire.  Keach» 
 
 EESURHECTION— Eeasons  against  the. 
 
 First  it  is  alleged  that  the  resumption 
 of  bodies  resolved  to  dust  and  ashes  is 
 agiiinst  common  sense  and  reason.  Am. 
 It  is  above  reason,  but  not  against  reason. 
 For  impotent  and  miserable  man,  as  ex- 
 perience showeth,  can  by  art  even  of  ashes 
 make  the  curious  workmanship  of  ghiss; 
 why  then  may  we  not  in  reason  think,  that 
 the  oniniputent  and  everlasting  God  is  able 
 to  rai-e  men's  bodies  out  of  the  dust  ? 
 Secondly,  it  is  Siiid  that  men's  bodies  being 
 dend  are  turned  intodust.and  soare  mingled 
 with  the  bodies  of  beasts  and  other  crea- 
 tures, and  one  man's  body  with  another, 
 and  that  by  reason  of  this  confusion  men 
 cannot  possibly  rise  with  their  own  bodies. 
 Arts.  Howsoever  this  is  impossible  wit  h  men, 
 yet  it  is  possible  with  (iod.     For  Ue  that 
 
 in  the  beginning  was  aMe  tocrente  all  things 
 of  nothing,  is  much  more  able  to  make  every 
 man's  body  at  the  resurrection,  of  his  own 
 matter,  and  to  distinguish  the  dust  of  men's 
 bodies  from  the  dust  of  beasts;  and  the 
 dust  of  one  man's  body  from  another.  The 
 goldsmith  by  his  art  can  sunder  divers 
 metals  one  from  another,  and  some  men 
 out  of  one  metal  can  draw  another,  why 
 then  should  we  think  it  impossible  for  the 
 Almighty  to  do  the  like?  It  may  be  fur- 
 ther objected  thus :  a  man  is  eaten  by  a 
 wolf  the  wolf  is  eaten  by  a  lion,  the  lion  by 
 the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  fowls  of  the 
 air  eaten  again  by  men ;  again,  one  man  is 
 eaten  of  another  as  it  is  usual  among  canni- 
 bals. Now,  the  body  of  that  man  which  is 
 turned  into  so  many  substances,  especially 
 into  the  body  of  another  man,  cannot  rise 
 again;  and  if  the  one  doth,  the  other  doth 
 not.  Ans.  This  reason  is  but  a  cavil  of 
 man's  brain;  for  we  must  not  think  that 
 whatsoever  entereth  into  the  body,  and  is 
 turned  into  the  substance  thereof,  nmst  rise 
 again,  and  become  a  part  of  the  body  at 
 the  resurrection;  but  every  man  shall  then 
 have  so  much  substance  of  his  own  as  sh^dl 
 make  his  body  to  be  entire  and  perfect; 
 though  another  man's  tlesh  once  eaten  be 
 no  part  thereof.  Again,  it  is  urged,  that 
 because  ilesh  and  blood  cannot  enter  into 
 the  kingdom  of  God,  therefore  the  bodies 
 of  men  shall  not  rise  again.  Ans.  By  tlesh 
 and  blood  it  is  not  meant  the  bodies  of 
 men  simply,  but  the  bodies  of  men  as  they 
 are  in  weakness,  without  glory,  subject  to 
 corruption.  For  flesh  and  blood  in  scrip- 
 ture signifies  sometime  the  original  sin  and 
 corruption  of  nature,  and  sometime  man's 
 nature  subject  to  miseries  and  infirmities, 
 or  the  body  in  con  uption  before  it  be  glo- 
 rified, and  so  it  must  be  understood  in  this 
 place.  }V.  Perkins. 
 
 RESUilRECTION— Eesemblances  of  the. 
 
 Both  philosophei'S  and  also  divines  have 
 written  of  the  Phccnix,  tluit  first  she  is 
 consumed  to  ashes  by  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
 and  that  afterward  of  her  aslies  ariseth  a 
 young  one:  and  in  this  manner  is  her  kind 
 preserved.  Again,  swallows,  worms,  and 
 flies,  which  have  lien  dead  in  the  winter 
 season,  in  the  spring,  by  the  virtue  of  the 
 sun's  heat,  revive  again;  so,  likewise,  men 
 tall  in  swoons  and  trances,  being  for  a  time 
 without  breath  or  show  of  life,  and  yet 
 afterward  come  again.  And  so  (to  use 
 Piiul's  exatnple),  before  the  corn  can  grow 
 and  bear  fruit,  it  must  first  be  cast  inio  the 
 ground,  and  there  rot.  And  if  this  were 
 not  seen  by  experience,  men  would  not 
 believe  it.  Again,  every  present  day  is  as 
 it  were  de;)d  and  buried  in  the  night  fol- 
 lowing, and  afterwards  it  returns  again 
 the  next  morning.  Lastly,  we  road  how 
 the  old  prophets  raised  some  from  death. 
 
746 
 
 RESUREECTIOIT— EETIEEMENT. 
 
 and  our  Saviour  Christ,  raissd  Lazarus 
 among  the  rest,  that  had  been  four  days 
 in  the  grave  and  stank;  and  why,  then, 
 should  any  think  it  impossible  for  God  to 
 raise  all  nien  to  life  ?  W.  Perkins. 
 
 EESURRECTION— as  the  Spring. 
 
 Let  us  look  at  spring  as  a  type  of  the 
 general  resurrection.  The  Bible  looks 
 upon  it  in  this  light  (1  Cor.  xv,  36 — 41). 
 
 First — Spring  life  is  a  resuscitation. 
 It  is  not  properly  a  new  creation ;  it  grows 
 out  of  the  past.  The  seeds  of  all  have 
 flourished  on  the  earth  before.  Some  have 
 remained  dormant  for  centuries.  So  in  the 
 resurrection,  each  raised  body  will  be,  in 
 some  way,  the  outcome  of  a  body  that  lived 
 before.  Secondly — Spring  life  is  a  resusci- 
 tation from  apparently  extinct  life.  "  That 
 which  thou  sowe.st  is  not  quickened  except 
 it  die."  It  is  not  until  signs  of  life  are 
 gone  that  germination  begins.  It  is  even 
 so  with  the  resurrection.  Tlie  resurrection 
 body  starts  from  the  grave  ages  after  all 
 signs  of  life  are  gone.  Thirdly — Spring 
 life  is  a  resuscitation  against  tchich  many 
 antecedent  objections  might  have  been  raised. 
 That  the  verdure,  and  bud,  and  flower, 
 that  now  cover  the  face  of  the  earth, 
 should  start  from  little  grains  that  had 
 turned  to  dust,  would  be  a  priori  as  im- 
 probable as  that  all  the  generations  of  men 
 shall  stand  up  again  upon  the  earth.  You 
 see  spring  life  "swallowing  up  death  in 
 victory  ;"  and  so  it  will  be  in  the  resur- 
 raction. 
 
 Tlie  seed,  the  insentient  seed. 
 
 Buried  beneath  the  earth,  and  rolled  in 
 
 the  soil. 
 Starts  from  its  dusty  bed. 
 Responsive  to  the  voice  of  spring, 
 And  covers  mead  and  mountain, 
 Fields  and  forests,  with  its  life. 
 Myriads  of  creatures,  too,  that  lay 
 As  dead  as  dust  on  every  inch  of  ground, 
 Touched  by  the  vernal  ray, 
 Spring  from  their  little  graves,  and  sport 
 On   beauteous  wings  iu  fields  of  sunnied 
 
 air. 
 Shall  this  be  so  ?  shall  plants  and  worms 
 Come  forth  to  life  again  ?     And  oh  shall 
 
 man 
 Descend  into  his  grave  to  rise  no  more  ? 
 Shall  he,  the  master  of  this  world, 
 Image  and  ofl'spring  of  the  fontal  life, 
 Through  endless  ages  sleep  in  dust  ? 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 RESURRECTION  OF  CHRIST— Evidences 
 
 of  the. 
 
 The  manifestation  of  Himself  was  full 
 and  clear,  and  for  this  end  He  stayed  forty 
 days  on  the  earth  after  His  resurrection. 
 Ilis  body  was  now  become  spirltvia',  and 
 could    appear   when    and    to    whom    He 
 
 pleased.  And  He  appears: — 1.  To  Mary 
 Magdalene.  2.  To  two  disciples  going  to 
 Emmaus.  3.  To  Cephas.  4.  To  the  twelve. 
 5.  To  five  hundred  brethren  together.  6 
 To  James.  7.  To  all  the  apostles,  and 
 that  several  times.  Thomas  must  not  only 
 see  Him,  but  with  his  hands  and  fingers 
 feel  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  the  scars  of 
 His  wounds.  They  eat  and  drink  with 
 Him,  receive  instructions  and  commissions 
 from  Him,  and  see  Him  taken  up  into 
 heaven.  Stephen,  Paul,  and  John  the 
 divine,  saw  Him  after  He  was  ascended 
 into  heaven.  The  soldiers  who  were  set  to 
 guard  the  sepulchre  are  forced  to  be 
 witnesses  as  of  His  death,  so  of  His  resur- 
 rection. The  coming  down  of  the  Holy 
 Ghost  upon  the  apostles,  the  miracles  done, 
 the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  received  in  His 
 name,  and  the  faith  of  the  world  in  Him 
 do  testify  to  the  same ;  so  that  there  can 
 be  no  reason  in  the  world  to  doubt  His 
 resurrection  (Acts  i,  3),  Lawson. 
 
 RETIREMENT— Christian. 
 
 It  was,  I  confess,  too  lavish  an  expression 
 which  the  hermit  in  Sulpitius  used,  that 
 he  toho  was  visited  by  men  could  not  be 
 visited  by  angels ;  yet  in  some  respects  he 
 said  true ;  and  he  that  doth  not  love  to  be 
 alone  sometimes,  is  not  like  to  receive  the 
 visits  of  these  ministering  spirits. 
 
 It  was  in  retirement  that  Elijah  raised 
 the  dead  child.  And  by  the  river  Chebar 
 it  was,  in  a  lonely  place,  that  God  appeared 
 to  Ezekiel;  so  He  revealed  Himself  to 
 Moses  in  the  bush,  when  at  a  great  dis- 
 tance  from  men,  and  crowds  of  people  j 
 and  therefore  it  was  excellent  advice  which 
 St.  Chrysostom  gave  to  a  man  who  in- 
 tended for  salvation :  "  Depart  from  the 
 highway,  and  transplant  thyself  in  some 
 enclosed  ground,  for  it  is  hai'd  for  a  tree 
 that  stands  by  the  wayside  to  keep  her 
 fruit  till  it  be  ripe." 
 
 What  St.  Basil  saith  of  a  solitary  life, 
 may  in  a  great  measure  be  applied  to  such 
 retirement.  It  is  the  school  where  men 
 are  taught  celestial  doctrine,  and  Divine 
 arts  and  sciences  are  infused  by  nothing  so 
 soon  as  by  this  discipline.  This  is  a  garden 
 of  delights,  where  virtue,  like  glittering 
 flowers,  send  forth  their  grateful  odours. 
 Here  giows  the  red  rose,  fervent  charity. 
 Here  rises  the  milk-white  lily,  chastity. 
 Here  the  myrtle  of  mortification  is  seen, 
 and  the  frankincense  of  prayer  is  here  to 
 be  found.  O  retirement  the  joy  of  sanc- 
 tified minds,  and  seat  of  all  spiritual  guests. 
 Thy  virtue  is  the  same  with  that  of  the 
 Babylonian  furnace  for  by  faitli  thou 
 keepest  off"  the  burning  heats  of  lust. 
 Thou  art  that  oven,  where  the  vessels  of 
 honour  are  prepared.  Great  stoi-ehouse 
 of  heavenly  wares,  where  all  the  rich  me"- 
 chandise   of    the   Spirit    is    hoarded    up. 
 
EETRIBUTION— REVELATIOir. 
 
 747 
 
 Vast  shop  of  spiritual  exercises,  where  the 
 soul  comes  to  be  restored  to  her  Creator's 
 image,  and  returns  to  the  purity  of  her 
 original. 
 
 Thou  makest,  indeed,  the  lips  pale  with 
 fiisting,  but  makest  the  soul  fat  and 
 flourishing.  Thou  makest  the  good  man 
 stand  in  the  castle  of  his  own  clarified 
 mind,  and  look  down  with  contempt  on 
 this  nether  world. 
 
 Sacred  tent,  where  our  holy  war  is  carried 
 on,  camp  of  God,  tower  of  David,  where 
 hang  a  thousand  shields,  all  fit  to  keep  off 
 the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil !  Field,  where 
 the  Lord's  battles  are  fought,  where  the 
 soul  fights  against  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh 
 against  the  soul. 
 
 O  retirement!  the  happy  place  where 
 vices  die,  and  virtues  live,  and  where  men 
 learn  what  it  is  to  arrive  to  perfection. 
 Great  ladder  of  Jacob,  whereby  men  climb 
 to  heaven,  and  angels  come  down  to  men. 
 Sweet  and  golden  way,  whereby  a  Christian 
 goes  home  to  his  Father's  house  !  Bath  of 
 the  soul !  Death  of  sin  !  Purgatory  of 
 filthiuess !  Thou  destroyest  the  secret  in- 
 trigues of  pride,  washest  away  the  nasti- 
 ness  of  sin,  and  elevates  the  soul  to  the 
 brightness  of  angels.        Anthony  Sorneck. 
 
 RETRIBUTION— Social. 
 
 Society  is  like  the  echoing  hills.  It 
 gives  back  to  the  speaker  his  words ; 
 groan  for  groan,  song  for  song.  Wouldest 
 thou  have  thy  social  scenes  to  resound  with 
 music?  then  speak  ever  in  the  melodious 
 strains  of  truth  and  love.  "  With  what 
 measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  measured  to 
 you  again."  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 REVELATION— Harmony  of. 
 
 The  great  rule  in  question  is,  that  every 
 part  of  a  revelation  from  God  will  be  con- 
 sistent with  every  other  part,  as  indeed  it 
 must  be;  for  to  afiirm  this  would  be  no 
 more  than  to  aflarm  that  with  God  is  "  no 
 variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning." 
 As  revelation  is  multiplied,  fresh  disclosures 
 will  break  upon  mankind ;  but  forasmuch 
 as  from  the  beginning  it  is  the  revelation 
 of  a  Being  who  is  always  the  same,  these 
 disclosures  must  be  always  in  harmony,  so 
 that  none  of  the  latter  can  be  contrary  to 
 the  former.  Of  course  it  does  not  follow 
 that  every  doctrine  of  the  more  recent 
 revelation  is  to  be  found  in  the  more 
 ancient ;  this  would  go  far  towards  denying 
 any  increase  in  the  amount  of  revelation ; 
 but  it  does  follow,  that  nothing  can  be 
 advanced  in  the  more  recent  at  variance 
 ■with  truths  advanced  in  the  more  ancient, 
 whatever  the  additions  to  the  sum  total  of 
 truth  communicated.  We  contend  for  such 
 consistency  as  this,  as  the  nece.-.sary  charac- 
 teristic of  a  series  of  revelations,  and  we 
 maintain  it  to  be  found  in  those  successive 
 
 disclosures  whicli  we  acknowledge  as  divine. 
 We  take  the  Bible  into  our  hands,  and 
 examine  diligently  its  several  parts,  de- 
 livered in  various  ages  to  mankind.  There 
 is  a  mighty  growth  in  the  discoveries  of 
 God's  nature  and  will,  as  time  rolls  on 
 from  creation  to  redemption ;  but  as  know- 
 ledge is  increased,  a  brighter  light  is 
 thrown  on  the  Divine  purposes  and  dealings. 
 There  is  never  point  at  which  we  are 
 brought  to  a  pause  by  the  manifest  con- 
 tradiction of  one  part  and  another.  It  is 
 the  wonderful  property  of  the  Bible — a 
 property  which  it  could  not  have,  except  as 
 the  word  of  the  Omniscient  and  Immutable, 
 and  which  as  His  word  it  cannot  be  with- 
 out— that  it  never  withdraws  any  truth 
 once  advanced,  and  never  adds  new  without 
 giving  fresh  force  to  the  old.  In  reading 
 the  Bible  we  always  look,  as  it  were,  on 
 the  same  landscape;  the  only  difference 
 being,  as  we  take  in  more  of  its  statements, 
 that  more  and  more  of  the  mist  is  rolled 
 away  from  the  horizon,  so  that  the  eye 
 can  include  a  broader  sweep  of  beauty.  If 
 we  hold  converse  with  patriarchs  occupying 
 the  earth  whilst  yet  in  its  infancy,  and 
 then  listen  to  Moses  as  he  legislates  for 
 Israel,  and  then  to  prophets  throwing 
 open  the  future,  and  then  to  apostles  as 
 they  publish  the  mysteries  of  a  new  dis- 
 pensation, we  find  the  disclosures  always 
 bearing  with  more  or  less  distinctness  on 
 one  and  the  same  object.  The  later 
 speakers,  if  we  may  use  such  illustration, 
 turn  towards  us  a  larger  portion  than  the 
 former  of  the  illuminated  hemisphere;  but 
 as  the  mighty  globe  turns  majestically  on 
 its  axis,  we  feel  that  the  oceans  and  lands 
 which  come  successively  into  view  are  but 
 constituent  parts  of  the  same  glorious 
 world.  There  is  the  discovery  of  new  ter- 
 ritories, but  as  fast  as  discovered  the  ter- 
 ritories combine  to  make  up  one  planet  j 
 there  is  the  announcement  of  new  truths, 
 but  as  fast  as  announced  they  take  their 
 place  as  parts  of  one  immutable  system. 
 Yes,  there  is  vast  diflereuce  between  the 
 epistles  of  St.  Paul,,  and  the  Psalms  of 
 David,  or  the  prophecies  of  Isaiali ;  but  it 
 is  the  difference,  as  we  have  just  said, 
 between  the  landscape  whilst  the  morning 
 mist  yet  rests  on  half  its  villages  and  lak^s, 
 and  the  same  outspread  of  scenery,  when 
 the  noontide  sun  irradiates  every  spire  and 
 every  rivulet.  It  is  the  dift'erenee  between 
 the  moon,  as  she  turns  towards  us  only  a 
 thin  crescent  of  her  illuminated  disc,  and 
 when  in  the  fulness  of  her  beauty  she  walks 
 our  firmament  and  scatters  our  night.  It 
 is  no  new  landscape  which  opens  on  our 
 gaze,  as  the  town  and  the  forest  coine  out 
 from  the  shadow,  and  fill  up  the  blanks  in 
 the  glorious  panorama;  it  is  no  new  planet 
 which  comes  travelling  in  its  majesty,  as 
 the  crescent  deepens  into  the  circle,  and 
 
74.8 
 
 REVELATIO:^. 
 
 the  line  of  fiiint  light  gives  place  to  the 
 rich  globe  of  silver;  and  it  is  no  fresh 
 system  of  religion,  which  is  made  known 
 to  the  dwellers  on  tliis  creation,  as  the 
 brief  notices  given  to  patriarchs  expand  in 
 the  institutions  of  the  law,  under  the  te;ich- 
 ino-s  of  prophecy,  till  at  length  in  the  days 
 of  Christ  and  His  apostles  tliey  burst  into 
 magnificence,  and  till  a  world  with  re- 
 deniption.  It  is  throughout  the  same 
 system — a  system  for  the  rescue  of  men 
 tlirough  the  interference  of  a  Surety  ;  and 
 revelation  has  been  only  the  gradual  de- 
 velopment of  this  system— the  drawing  up 
 another  fold  of  the  veil  from  the  landscape, 
 the  adding  another  stripe  of  light  to  the 
 crescent ;  "so  that  the  early  fathers  of  our 
 race,  and  ourselves,  on  whom  have  fallen 
 the  ends  of  the  world,  look  on  the  same 
 arrangements  forhuman  deliverance,  though 
 to  them  there  was  nothing  but  a  cloudy 
 expanse,  with  lu-re  and  there  a  prominent 
 landmark,  whilst  to  us,  though  the  horizon 
 loses  itself  in  the  far-off  eternity,  every 
 ohject  of  personal  interest  is  exhibited  in 
 beauty  and  distinctness.  -ST.  Melvill. 
 
 REVELATION— above  Human  Nature. 
 
 It  is  an  historical  fact  which  has  not  been 
 sufficiently  noticed,  that  human  nature  is 
 always  below  revelation.  This  fact  indi- 
 cates the  Divine  origin  of  revelation. 
 Great  discoveries  are  usually  the  product 
 of  preceding  ages  of  thought.  One  mind 
 develops  the  idea  ;  but  it  is  the  fruitage  of 
 the  age  ripened  in  that  mind.  A  pearl  is 
 found  ;  but  the  location  had  been  indicated 
 by  previous  researches.  But  revealed  re- 
 ligion is  something  different  from  this.  It 
 is  separate  from  and  superior  to  the  thought 
 of  the  age.  It  calls  the  wisdom  of  the 
 world  foolishness,  and  introduces  a  new 
 stand-point  and  starting-point,  around 
 which  it  gathers  what  was  valuable  in  the 
 old,  and  destroys  the  remainder.  Hence 
 it  will  always  be  found  true  that  a  struggle 
 is  necessary  to  bring  up  the  human  mind, 
 and  keep  it  up  to  the  level  of  revealed 
 religion,  and  that  revealed  religion  pro- 
 duces the  struggle.  The  human  mind 
 naturally  falls  below  it;  hence  frequent 
 struggles  are  necessary  to  restore  it  from 
 its  rela])ses.  Even  those  who  profess  to 
 be  the  friends  of  the  dispensation  retro- 
 grade so  soon  as  its  power  is  in  anywise 
 abated  ;  and  new  applications  of  the  same 
 power  have  to  be  made  to  rescue  them, 
 and  bring  them  up  again  nearer  to  the 
 requirements  of  their  dispensation. 
 
 J.  B.  Walker. 
 
 EEVELATION— Light  of. 
 
 A  solitary  traveller  lands  upon  some 
 unknown  coast  at  morning  twilight.  Mists 
 veil  the  landscape,  and  obscure  the  sky. 
 Adjacent  things  assume  unreal  shapes,  and 
 
 distant  ones  are  still  more  shrouded  with 
 vagueness  and  uncertainty.  Upwards  he 
 walks  along  the  beach,  whose  paths  are 
 washed  by  each  returning  tide,  obliterating 
 every  step  of  man.  He  looks  around,  in 
 this  uncertainty,  for  something  to  direct 
 him.  With  strained  eyes  he  sees,  or  thinks 
 he  sees,  the  adjacent  town ;  yet  all  may  be 
 but  fancy  or  illusion.  That  which  he  takes 
 to  be  the  neighbouring  spire,  may  only  be 
 some  tall  and  upright  tree ;  and  that  which 
 seems  the  body  of  the  church,  may  prove  a 
 mound  or  hillock.  Yet,  on  he  goes — be- 
 lieving, hoping,  seeking — when,  lo  !  the 
 sun  rises  !  mists  disperse,  uncertainty  rolls 
 westward  her  thick  clouds  of  obscurity, 
 and  all  the  landscape  brightens  beneath  his 
 view,  in  the  full  blaze  of  day. 
 
 Thus  it  is  with  the  man  who  fondly 
 seeks  in  nature's  twilight  to  find  out  God, 
 or  understand  Him  to  perfection.  And  so 
 irradiating  is  the  light  of  revelation  when 
 it  dawns  upon  the  soul.  ^agg. 
 
 REVELATION— Limited. 
 
 But  it  may  be  further  asked,  Wliy  this 
 revelation  sh.ould  have  been  communicated 
 to  the  Jews  alone,  and  other  nations  not 
 allowed  to  partake  of  its  benefits  ?  Now, 
 to  this  we  have  no  right  to  expect  an 
 answer,  further  than  as  an  answer  is  fur- 
 nished by  observation  on  the  whole  course 
 of  Divine  providence.  We  might  quite  as 
 well  ask,  why  one  nation  enjoys  a  better 
 climate  than  another  ?  why  among  men 
 there  are  native  differences  of  talent  and 
 disposition  ?  why  one  man  is  made  to  live 
 under  a  government  which  oppresses  his 
 mind,  and  another  under  social  influences 
 which  give  all  its  faculties  free  scope  and 
 excitement  ?  why  one  man's  religious  in- 
 terests are  made  from  the  first  to  flourish 
 under  the  fostering  influence  of  parental 
 care,  while  another  is  exposed  from  infancy 
 to  every  kind  of  moral  contamination? 
 The  question  respecting  the  abstract  justice 
 of  such  inequalities,  may  or  may  not  1)6 
 a  question  hard  to  answer ;  but  such  as  it 
 is,  it  relates  to  the  whole  acknowledged 
 course  of  the  Divine  administration  of  the 
 world's  affairs,  and  cannot  therefore,  with 
 any  propriety,  be  made  a  ground  of  distrust 
 as  to  the  Divine  origin  or  essential  fitness 
 of  the  Mosaical  dispensation.  It  applies 
 quite  as  much  to  Christianity  as  it  does  to 
 .Tudaism ;  and  not  more  to  either  than  it 
 does  to  the  endless  variety  of  hunmn  for- 
 tunes and  conditions.  Dr.  Kitto. 
 
 REVELATION— Necessity  of. 
 
 If  Adam  needed  to  hear  his  Father's 
 voice,  sounding  amid  the  fair  bowers  and 
 the  unshaded  glory  of  Paradise,  surely 
 much  more  does  this  prodigal  world,  that 
 has  gone  astray  from  Him,  need  to  hear  a 
 Father's  voice  asking  after  us,  and  the  first 
 
EEYEITGE— REVIVAL. 
 
 749 
 
 intimations  of  a  Father's  desire,  that  the 
 lost  may  be  found,  and  the  dead  at  lencrth 
 become  alive.  Dr.  Gumming. 
 
 EEVENGE— Definition  of. 
 
 Revenge  is  the  inflicting  of  pain  upon 
 the  ]>erson  who  has  injured  or  offended  us, 
 further  than  the  just  ends  of  punif^hment 
 or  reparation  require.  Foley. 
 
 HE  VENGE— Determined. 
 
 You  may  have  read  of  a  real  instance  of 
 a  Spaniard,  wlio,  being  injured  by  another 
 inhabitant  of  the  same  town,  resolved  to 
 destroy  him ;  the  other  was  apprised  of 
 this,  and  removed  with  the  utmost  secrecy, 
 as  he  thought,  to  another  town  at  a  con- 
 sidenible  distance,  where,  however,  he  had 
 not  been  more  than  a  day  or  two,  before 
 he  found  that  his  enemy  also  was  there. 
 He  removed  in  the  same  manner  to  several 
 parts  of  the  kingdom,  remote  from  each 
 other ;  but  in  every  place  quickly  perceived 
 his  deadly  pursuer  was  near  him.  At  last 
 lie  went  to  South  America,  where  he  had 
 enjoyed  his  security  but  a  very  short  time, 
 before  his  relentless  pursuer  came  up  with 
 him,  and  accomplished  his  purpose. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 EEVENGE— Injuries  of. 
 
 Revenge  commonly  hurts  both  the 
 ofterer  and  sufferer ;  as  we  see  in  a  foolish 
 bee,  which  in  her  anger  invenometh  the 
 flesh,  and  loseth  her  sting,  and  so  lives  a 
 drone  ever  after.  Bp.  Hall. 
 
 EEVENGE— Meanness  of. 
 
 Revenge  is  a  cruel  word ;  manhood,  some 
 call  it,  but  it  is  rather  doghood.  The 
 manlier  any  man  is,  the  milder  and  more 
 mercitul,  as  David  (2  Sam.  i,  12),  and 
 Julius  Cffisar,  who,  when  he  had  Pompey's 
 head  presented  to  him,  wept  and  said, 
 *'  I  seek  not  revenge,  but  victory." 
 
 John  Trq^jp. 
 
 EEVENGE— Pleasure  of. 
 
 The  pleasure  of  revenge  is  like  the  plea- 
 sure of  eating  chalk  and  coals;  a  foolish 
 disease  made  the  appetite,  and  it  is  enter- 
 tained with  an  evil  reward ;  it  is  like  the 
 feeding  of  a  cancer  or  a  wolf;  the  man  is 
 restless  until  it  be  done,  and  when  it  is, 
 every  man  sees  how  infinitely  he  is  removed 
 from  satisfaction  or  felicity.      Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 EEVZWGE— Ponishment  o£ 
 
 On  him  that  takes  revenge,  revenge  shall 
 be  taken,  and  by  a  real  evil  he  shall  dearly 
 pay  for  the  goods  that  are  but  airy  and 
 fantastical ;  it  is  like  a  rolling  stone,  which, 
 when  a  man  hath  forced  up  a  hill,  will 
 return  upon  hira  with  a  greater  violence, 
 and  break  those  bones  whose  sinews  gave 
 it  motion.  Ibid. 
 
 REVENGE— Spirit  of. 
 All  the  stored  vengeances  of  heaven  fall 
 On  her  ungrateful  top !     Strike  her  young 
 
 bones, 
 Ye  taking  airs,  with  lameness! — 
 You  nimble  lightnings,  dart  your  blinding 
 
 flames 
 Into  her  scornful  eyes !  Infect  her  beauty, 
 You  fen-sucked  fogs,  drawn  by  the  power- 
 ful sun, 
 To  fall  and  blast  her  pride.      Shaliespeare. 
 
 REVIVAL— Definition  of  a. 
 
 Revival  in  religion  is  that  process  by 
 which  there  is  in  the  minds  of  men  through- 
 out a  church,  or  a  district,  a  return  from  a 
 religious  languor,  or  recovery  from  moral 
 apathy,  to  a  universal  and  general  sen- 
 sitiveness to  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
 Spirit  operating  by  religious  truths  and 
 ordinances.  Dr.  J.  T.  Jcnkyti. 
 
 REVIVAL— Description  of  a. 
 
 A  revival  is  the  spring  of  religion,  the 
 renovation  of  life  and  gladness,  it  is  the 
 season  in  which  young  converts  burst  into 
 existence  and  beautiful  activity.  The 
 Church  resumes  her  toil  and  labour  and 
 care  with  freshness  and  energy.  The  air 
 all  around  is  balmy  and  diffusing  the 
 sweetest  odours.  The  whole  landscape 
 teems  with  living  promises  of  abundant 
 liarvest  of  righteousness  and  peace.  It  is 
 the  jubilee  of  holiness.  A  genial  warmth 
 jiervades  and  refreshes  the  whole  Ch-jrch. 
 Showers  of  "  vernal  delight  and  joy  "  de- 
 scend gently  and  copiously.  Delightful 
 inliuences  are  wafted  by  every  breeze. 
 Where  the  dead  leaves  of  winter  still 
 linger,  the  primrose  and  the  daisy  spring 
 up  in  modest  loveliness.  Trees  long  barren 
 put  forth  the  buds  of  beauty  and  power. 
 The  whole  valley  is  crowned  With  fragrant 
 and  varied  blossoms.  Toriiis  of  beauty 
 bloom  on  every  side,  and  Zion  is  tl^e  joy 
 of  the  ^hole  earth.  If  the  spirit  that 
 renews  the  face  of  the  eaith  b  a  spirit  of 
 beauty,  in  the  ek-gance  of  the  gjrms,  the 
 tints  of  the  buds,  the  verdiu-e  of  the  foliage, 
 the  splendonr  of  the  blossoms,  and  the 
 witching  glories  of  the  matured  Iruits 
 of  nature,  "bow  great  is  His  beauty," 
 when  acting  out  His  lovely  and  holy  per- 
 fections in  revivals  of  religion.  "In  that 
 da_)  shall  the  Lord  of  Hosts  be  for  a  crown 
 of  glory,  and  for  a  diadem  of  beauty  unto 
 the  residue  of  His  people."  This  is  His 
 promise  concerning  these  seasons  of  re- 
 freshing from  His  presence ;  "  I  will  be  as 
 tlie  dew  unto  Israel :  he  shall  grow  as  the 
 lily,  and  cast  forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon. 
 His  branches  shall  spread,  and  his  beauty 
 shall  be  as  the  olive-tree,  and  liis  smell  as 
 Lebanon.  They  that  dwell  nnier  his 
 shadow  shall  return,  Lhey  shall  iti,viV£  as 
 
750 
 
 EEVIVAL— RICHES. 
 
 the  corn,  and  grow  ns  the  vine ;  the  scent 
 thereof  shall  be  as  the  wine  of  Lebanon." 
 
 Br.  J.  T.  Jenkyn. 
 REVIVAL— Effects  of  a. 
 
 In  the  revival  shadowed  in  the  vision  of 
 the  valley  of  dry  bones,  there  was  first  a 
 noise,  and  then  a  shaking  throughout  all 
 the  plain.  Revivals  always  produce  vigor- 
 ous stirrings  in  a  church,  and  excitement 
 in  a  neighbourhood.  The  smooth  and 
 chilling  ice  of  the  frigid  latitudes  of  for- 
 mality is  disturbed  and  broken  up,  and  all 
 the  barks  and  ships  that  were  frozen  in 
 them  are  set  at  lilierty.  The  snows  of 
 winter  are  melted  from  the  face  of  the 
 earth,  and  all  men  awaken  to  activity  and 
 labour.  Revivals  disturb  the  formalist, 
 the  indolent,  the  lukewarm,  and  the 
 wicked.  They  produce  a  turbulence  in 
 the  conscience,  an  agitation  in  the  mind, 
 tumult  in  the  emotions,  commotion  in  the 
 sympathies,  and  vigorous  animation  in  all 
 the  faculties.  H'id. 
 
 Revivals  make  men  devise  liberal  things. 
 Money  leaves  the  heart  and  gets  to  the 
 hand,  and  the  hand  conveys  it  to  the 
 treasury  of  Christ.  Hid. 
 
 The  members  of  the  Church  increase; 
 the  piety,  zeal,  unity,  strength,  benevolence 
 of  the  Church  increase ;  preaching  becomes 
 more  direct,  energetic,  and  soul-saving; 
 •  devils  rage,  wicked  men  persecute,  hypo- 
 crites deride.  Christians  rejoice,  and  angels 
 are  jubilant.  John  Bate. 
 
 REVIVALS— Ancient  and  Modern. 
 
 The  Acts  of  the  Apostles  supplies  us 
 with  a  permanent  and  sure  test  by  which 
 we  can  try  and  prove  the  genuineness  or 
 the  spuriousness  of  modern  revivals.  The 
 revival  of  the  day  of  Pentecost  was  indis- 
 putably a  genuine  production  of  the 
 Spirit.  If  we  reject  any  moderti  revivals 
 for  any  developments  which  appeared  in 
 the  revival  of  Pentecost,  we  reject  a  true 
 and  real  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  In 
 tracing  the  analogy  between  the  early  and 
 modern  revivals,  it  is  not  intended  that 
 their  character  is  identical,  but  similar. 
 .  1.  They  both  originate  in  a  spirit  of 
 humble,  united,  and  expectant  prayer. 
 
 2.  Both  commence  with  the  ministers 
 of  Christ. 
 
 3.  Both  are  open  and  public,  and  at- 
 tract public  attention. 
 
 4.  Both  are  liable  to  misrepresentation, 
 derision,  and  mockery. 
 
 5.  Both  are  produced  and  maintained  by 
 the  same  kind  of  preaching. 
 
 6.  Both  affect  the  bodily  frame  and  the 
 animal  feelings  of  men. 
 
 7.  Both  produce  numerous  conversions. 
 
 8.  Both  give  a  powerful  impulse  to 
 benevolence. 
 
 9.  Both  exert  a  strong  and  mighty  in- 
 fluence on  public  opinion. 
 
 10.  Both  are  permanent  in  their  effects. 
 
 Br.  T.  W.  Jenkyn. 
 
 RICHES— not  always  Blessings. 
 
 Zenophon  tells  us,  that  when  Cyrus  gave 
 Artabasus,  one  of  his  courtiers,  a  cup  of 
 gold,  he  gave  Chrysantas,  his  favorite, 
 nothing  at  that  time  but  a  kiss,  which  oc- 
 casioned this  speech  from  Artabasus  to 
 Cyrus,  "  Sir,  the  cup  you  gave  me  was  riot 
 so  good  gold  as  the  kiss  you  gave  Chrysan- 
 tas." God  gives  wicked  men  many  times 
 gold  but  without  kisses,  and  godly  men 
 kisses  but  without  gold;  yet  they Tnay  say, 
 there  is  more  gold  in  their  kisses  than  in 
 others'  gold.  Venning. 
 
 RICHES— Danger  of. 
 
 Riches  may  be  a  blessing  or  may  be  a 
 curse,  according  to  the  state  of  our  hearts. 
 A  draught  of  water  refreshes  a  healthy 
 man,  but  it  only  increases  the  thirst  of  one 
 afflicted  with  dropsy.  Molten  metal  may- 
 be safely  poured  into  a  dry  mould,  but  if 
 the  mould  be  damp  it  will  violently 
 burst  asunder.  So  the  ungodly  soul  is 
 carried  still  nearer  to  eternal  ruin  by  the 
 acquisition  of  earthly  riches.  And  just  as 
 the  wretched  gambler  who  loses  in  almost 
 every  game,  and  hovers  in  rags  round  the 
 gaming-table,  is  as  much  a  gambler  and 
 infatuated  with  the  lust  of  play  as  his  suc- 
 cessful neighbour,  so  many  a  man's  soul 
 has  been  ruined  by  "the  love  of  money," 
 although  he  had  but  little  money  to  love. 
 The  love  of  money  often  leads  men  on 
 to  grievous  sins,  just  as  the  little  red  flags 
 at  Spanish  bull-tights  excite  and  irritate 
 the  bull,  whilst  the  matador  (whose  part 
 it  is  to  slay  the  animal)  seizes  his  oppor- 
 tunity to  plunge  his  sword  into  the  animal's 
 shoulder.  The  devil  does  not  often  angle 
 with  a  bare  hook.  Anon. 
 
 Mr.  Cecil  had  a  rich  hearer,  who,  when 
 a  young  man,  had  solicited  his  advice,  but 
 who  had  not  for  some  time  had  an  inter- 
 view with  him.  Mr.  C —  one  day  went  to 
 his  house  on  horseback,  being  unable  to 
 walk  ;  and,  after  the  usual  salutations,  ad- 
 dressed him  thus  :  "  I  understand  you  are 
 very  dangerously  situated !"  Here  he 
 paused,  and  his  friend  replied,  "  I  am  not 
 aware  of  it,  sir."  "  I  thought  it  was  proba- 
 ble you  were  not,  and  therefore  I  have 
 called  on  you.  I  hear  you  are  getting 
 rich ;  take  care,  for  it  is  the  road  by  wliich 
 the  devil  leads  thousands  to  destruction  !" 
 This  was  spoken  with  such  solemnity  and 
 earnestness,  that  it  made  a  deep  and  lasting 
 impression.  Arvine. 
 
 RICHES— Deceitfulness  of. 
 
 Ah,  how  many  threadbare  souls  are  to 
 
EICHES. 
 
 751 
 
 be  found  under  sillcen  cloaks  and  gown! 
 How  often  are  worldly  riches  like  hang- 
 men ;  they  hide  men's  faces  with  a  cover- 
 ing, that  they  may  not  see  their  own  end, 
 and  then  they  hang  them.  And  if  they 
 do  not  hang  you,  they  will  shortly  leave 
 you  ;  they  make  themselves  wings  and  flee 
 away.  When  one  was  commending  the 
 riches  and  wealth  of  merchants;  I  do  not 
 love  that  wealth  (saith  a  heathen)  that 
 hangs  upon  ropes :  if  they  break,  the  ship 
 miscarrieth,  and  all  is  lost.  He  is  rich 
 enough,  says  St.  Jerome,  that  lacketh  not 
 bread,  and  high  enough  in  dignity  that  is 
 not  forced  to  serve.  J.  Brooks. 
 
 RICHES— Definition  of. 
 
 I  cannot  call  riches  better  than  the 
 "  baggage  "  of  virtue ;  the  Roman  word  is 
 better,  "  impedimenta."  For  as  baggage 
 is  to  an  army,  so  are  riches  to  virtue.  It 
 cannot  be  spared  nor  left  behind,  but  it 
 hindereth  the  march ;  yea,  and  the  care  of 
 it    sometimes    loseth    or    disturbeth    the 
 
 victory. 
 
 Bp.  Meynolds. 
 
 RICHES— Doubling. 
 
 You  want  to  double  your  riches,  and 
 without  gambling  or  stock-jobbing.  Share 
 it.  Whether  it  be  material  or  intellectunl, 
 its  rapid  increase  will  amaze  you.  What 
 would  the  sun  have  been,  had  he  folded 
 himself  up  in  darkness  ?  Surely  he  would 
 have  gone  out.     So  would  Socrates. 
 
 This  road  to  wealth  seems  to  have  been 
 discovered  some  three  thousand  years  ago. 
 At  least  it  was  known  to  Hesiod,  and  has 
 been  recommended  by  him  in  the  one  pre- 
 cious line  he  has  left  us.  But  even  he 
 complains  of  the  fools,  who  did  not  know 
 that  half  is  more  than  the  whole.  And 
 ever  since,  though  mankind  have  always 
 been  in  full  chase  after  riches,  though  they 
 have  not  feared  to  follow  Columbus  and 
 Gama  in  chase  of  it,  though  they  have 
 waded  through  blood,  and  crept  through 
 fiilsehood,  and  trampled  on  their  own  hearts, 
 and  been  ready  to  ride  on  a  broomstick  in 
 chase  of  it,  very  few  have  ever  taken  the 
 road,  albeit  the  easiest,  the  shortest  and 
 the  surest.  Sare. 
 
 RICHES— Exposure  of. 
 
 Riches  are  but  a  shield  of  wax  against  a 
 Bword  of  power.  The  larger  state,  the 
 fairest  mark  for  misfortune  to  shoot  at. 
 Eagles  catch  not  after  flies;  nor  will  the 
 Hercules  of  ambition  lift  up  his  club  but 
 against  these  giants.  There  is  not  in 
 poverty  that  matter  for  a  great  man's 
 covetous  fire  to  work  upon.  If  Naboth 
 had  had  no  vineyard  to  prejudice  the  com- 
 mand of  Ahab's  lordship,  he  had  saved 
 both  his  peace  and  life.  Violent  winds 
 blow  through  a  hollow  willow,  or  over  a 
 poor  shrub,  and  let  them  stand,  while  they 
 
 rend  a-pieces  oaks  and  great  cedars,  that 
 oppose  their  great  bodies  to  the  furious 
 blasts.  The  tempests  of  oppressing  power 
 meddle  not  with  the  contemptible  quiet 
 of  poor  labourers,  but  shake  up  rich  men 
 by  the  very  roots,  that  their  blasted  for- 
 tunes may  be  fit  timber  for  their  own 
 building.  T.  Adams. 
 
 RICHES— Fleeting. 
 
 Can  any  man  saj'  that  the  wild  fowl  in 
 his  grounds  are  his,  which  suddenly  take 
 their  wings  and  fly  away,  and  for  awhile 
 make  a  stay  in  another  man's  field,  and 
 thereby  give  a  like  property  to  the  second 
 as  they  did  to  the  first  ?  No  more  can 
 any  man  call  riches  truly  his,  which,  like 
 winged  birds,  shift  their  owners,  and  haste 
 from  one  to  another.  Sjmrstowe. 
 
 RICHES— Gaining. 
 
 Hearken  to  Solomon,  and  beware  of 
 hasty  gathering  of  riches  :  "  He  who  makes 
 haste  to  be  rich  shall  not  be  innocent." 
 The  poets  feign  that  when  Plutus  (which 
 is  riches)  is  sent  from  Jupiter,  he  limps, 
 and  goes  slowly  ;  but  when  he  is  sent  from 
 Pluto,  he  runs,  and  is  swift  of  foot ;  mean- 
 ing that  riches  gotten  by  good  means  and 
 just  labour  pace  slowly  ;  but  when  they 
 come  by  the  death  of  others  (as  by  the 
 course  of  inheritance,  testaments,  and  the 
 like)  they  come  tumbling  upon  a  man: 
 but  it  might  be  applied  likewise  to  Pluto, 
 taking  him  for  the  devil ;  for  when  riches 
 come  from  the  devil  (as  by  fraud  and  op- 
 pression, and  unjust  means)  they  come 
 upon  speed.  The  ways  to  enrich  are  many, 
 and  most  of  them  foul ;  parsimony  is  one 
 of  the  best,  and  yet  is  not  innocent ;  for  it 
 withholdeth  men  from  works  of  liberality 
 and  charity.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 RICHES— Grasping. 
 
 A  young  person  once  mentioned  to  Dr. 
 Franklin  his  surprise  that  the  possession 
 of  riches  should  be  attended  with  undue 
 solicitude,  and  instanced  a  merchant,  who, 
 in  possession  of  unbounded  wealth,  was  as 
 busy,  and  much  more  anxious,  than  the 
 most  industrious  clerk  in  his  counting- 
 house.  The  doctor,  in  reply,  took  an  apple 
 from  a  basket,  and  presented  it  to  a  child 
 in  the  room,  who  could  hardly  grasp  it  in 
 his  hand.  He  then  gave  him  a  second, 
 which  filled  the  other;  and  choosing  a 
 third,  remarkable  for  its  size,  he  off'ered 
 that  also.  The  child,  after  many  ineftec- 
 tual  attempts  to  hold  the  three  apples, 
 dropped  the  last  on  the  carpet,  and  burst 
 into  tears.  "  See,"  said  the  doctor,  "there 
 is  a  little  man  with  more  riches  than  he  can 
 enjoy."  Anon. 
 
 RICHES— m-gained. 
 
 "  He  that  maketh  haste  to  be  rich  shall 
 
752 
 
 EICHES— SICHES  AND  HONOURS. 
 
 not  he  anprmisliecl."  Lot  hasted  to  acquire 
 wealth.  For  a  while  all  seems  fair ;  but 
 soon  every  worldly  prospect  is  blasted, 
 aud  he  erids  his  days  a  degraded  tenant 
 of  tiie  desolate  cave  of  Zoar.  Ahab  envied 
 Naboth  the  enjoyment  of  his  vineyard, 
 and  Jehoialvim  by  unjust  means  grasped 
 all  that  came  within  his  reach ;  but  both 
 of  them  soon  ended  their  career  in  deep 
 disgrace.  JE".  L.  Magoon. 
 
 RICHES— Love  of. 
 
 Some  have  been  so  wedded  to  their  riches, 
 that  they  liave  used  all  the  means  they 
 could  to  take  them  with  them.  Athena3us 
 reporteth  of  one,  tliat  at  the  hour  of  his 
 death  he  devoured  many  pieces  of  gold, 
 and  sewed  the  rest  in  his  coat,  command- 
 ing that  they  should  be  ail  buried  with 
 hira.  Hermocrates  being  loath  that  any 
 man  should  enjoy  his  goods  after  him, 
 made  himself,  by  his  will,  heir  of  his  own 
 goods,  Grey. 
 
 EICHES— Piercing. 
 
 Riches  are  called  thorns;  such  thorns 
 may  be  touched,  but  not  rested  upon. 
 Canst  thou  set  thine  heart  upon  a  thorn 
 without  piercing  thyself  through  with 
 many  sorrows  ?  Veniiing. 
 
 RICHES— Use  of. 
 
 That  good  which  is  in  riches  lieth  alto- 
 gether in  their  use ;  like  the  woman's  box 
 of  ointment,  if  it  be  not  broken  and  poured 
 out  for  the  sweet  refreshment  of  Jesus 
 Christ  in  His  distressed  members,  they 
 lose  their  worth;  therefore  the  covetous 
 man  may  truly  write  upon  his  rusting 
 heaps,  TItese  are  good  for  nothing.  Chry- 
 sostom  tells  us  that  he  is  not  rich  that 
 lays  up  much,  but  lays  out  much,  for  it  is 
 all  one,  not  to  have,  as  not  to  use ;  I  will, 
 therefore,  be  the  richer  by  a  charitable 
 laying  out,  while  the  worldling  shall  be 
 the  poorer  by  his  covetous  hoarding  up. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 RICHES— of  the  Wicked. 
 
 Such  riches  are  deceitful  shadows,  which 
 cover  an  apparent  good  under  an  undoubted 
 evil ;  they  are  hands  that  take  their  master 
 by  the  throat ;  they  are  poignards  with  a 
 golden  haft,  which  delight  the  eyes  with 
 vain  seemingp,  and  pierce  the  heart  with 
 mortal  wounds  j  they  are  precipices  fur- 
 nished with  precious  jen  els,  such  as  Hello- 
 gabalus  desired  to  illustrate  his  death 
 with ;  they  are  heights  which  are  not 
 measured  Imt  by  their  falls ;  they  are 
 deadly  poisons  steeped  in  a  golden  cup. 
 
 N.  Caussin. 
 
 RICEEE— TS'orthless. 
 
 Even  in  this  world  the  most  valuable 
 things  are  those  which  richeS  ca;:not  pro- 
 
 cure, viz.,  respect,  sympathy,  and  affection  ; 
 and  we  are  oiten  reminded  of  the  fable  of 
 Midas,  who  had  the  avarice  to  request  of 
 the  god  Bacclius  that  whatever  he  touched 
 might  be  turned  into  gold;  but  when  the 
 very  meat  he  was  about  to  eat  turned  into 
 gold,  Jlidas  soon  entreated  Bacchus  to  re- 
 call the  fatal  privilege.  We  are  told  that 
 the  wealthy  ancients  used  sometimes  to 
 dissolve  pearls  in  wine  to  heal  their  mala- 
 dies, but  we  do  not  learn  that  they  were 
 any  better  for  the  costly  medicine. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 Mr.  Jeremiah  Burroughs,  a  pious  minis- 
 ter, mentions  the  case  of  a  rich  man,  who, 
 when  he  lay  on  his  sick  bed,  called  for  his 
 bags  of  money  ;  and  having  laid  a  bag  of 
 gold  to  his  heart,  after  a  little  while  he 
 bade  them  take  it  away,  saying,  "  It  will 
 not  do  !  it  will  not  do  !"  Arvine. 
 
 RICHES  IN  THE  HEART. 
 
 Some  years  before  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
 A.  Fuller,  a  friend  had  taken  him  to  the 
 bank,  where  one  of  the  clerks  to  whom  he 
 iiad  occasion  to  speak  showed  him  sume 
 ingots  of  gold.  Mr.  Fuller  seemed  to 
 tarry  as  he  balanced  one  of  them  in  his 
 hand,  while  his  companion  was  in  haste  to 
 be  gone.  Thoughtfully  eyeing  the  gold, 
 he  said,  as  he  laid  it  down,  "  How  much 
 better  is  it  to  have  this  in  the  hand  than 
 in  the  heart."  J.  Whitecross. 
 
 RICHES  AND  HONOURS— Vanity  of. 
 
 A  distinguished  man  lay  on  his  death- 
 bed, when  a  great  mark  of  distinction  and 
 honour  was  brought  to  him.  Turning  a 
 cold  glance  on  the  treasure  he  would  once 
 have  clutched  with  an  eager  grasp,  he  said, 
 with  a  sigh,  "  Alas  !  this  is  a  very  fine  thing 
 in  this  country,  but  I  am  going  to  a  country 
 where  it  will  be  of  no  use  to  me."  Who 
 can  reflect,  without  sadness,  on  the  closing  ■ 
 moments  of  the  gallant  General  Neil  ?  His 
 life-long  dream  had  been  to  obtain  the 
 little  baton  and'^ribbon  of  Marshal  of 
 France.  He  could'  not  slaep  after  seeing 
 it  conferred  on  McMahon,  as  a  reward  of 
 valour  in  the  battle  of  Magenta.  Before 
 the  next  engagement,  he  told  his  friends 
 that  this  time  he  would  win  the  prize 
 he  so  much  coveted.  The  conflict  waa 
 over,  and  they  sought  him  anxiously  upon 
 the  gory  fiefd.  They  found  him  almost 
 crushed  beneath  his  war-horse,  and  the 
 practised  eye  of  the  surgeon  told  him  that 
 life  would  soon  be  over.  Word  was  sent 
 to  the  emperor,  who  quickly  arrived,  and 
 taking  from  bis  own  breast  the  badge  of 
 Marshal  of  France,  he  placed  it  above  the 
 heart  of  his  faithful  follower.  The_  life- 
 long dream  was  reahsed,  and  with  a  single 
 tl'.rob  of  exultant  joy  and  gratitude  lio 
 threw    his    arms    about   the    neck    of   his 
 
EICHES  AUD  RELIGION— EIGHTEOUS 
 
 753 
 
 sovereign — the  next  instant  he  fell  back 
 in  the  embrace  of  a  stronger  king. 
 
 0,  how  can  we  struggle,  and  toil,  and 
 distract  our  hearts  from  the  one  great  pur- 
 pose of  life,  simply  to  gather  about  us 
 possessions  which,  though  they  may  be 
 very  fine  things  in  this  country,  "  will  be 
 of  no  use  to  us  in  the  country  we  are  so 
 shortly  going  to."  Dr.  Haven. 
 
 RICHES  AND  RELIGION. 
 
 A  fanatic  bans  all  wealth  and  all  worldly 
 care  as  the  deportment  of  the  devil.  Christ 
 says,  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that  trust  in 
 riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
 He  does  not  say  the  divided  heart  has  no 
 religion,  but  it  is  a  dwarfed,  stunted, 
 feeble  religion.  Many  such  a  Christian  do 
 you  find  among  the  rich  and  the  titled, 
 who,  as  a  less  encumbered  man,  might 
 liave  been  a  resolute  soldier  of  the  Cross ; 
 but  he  is  only  now  a  realization  of  the  old 
 Pagan  fahle— a  spiritual  giant  buried  under 
 a  mountain  of  gold.  Oh  !  many,  many 
 such  we  meet  in  our  higher  classes,  pining 
 with  a  nameless  want,  pressed  by  a  heavy 
 sense  of  the  wearinessof  existence,  strength- 
 less  in  the  midst  of  affluence,  and  incapable 
 even  of  tasting  the  profusion  of  comfort 
 which  is  heaped  around  them. 
 
 F.  W.  Molertson. 
 RIDICULE— Tendency  of. 
 
 A  turn  for  the  ridiculous,  the  lowest  and 
 last  species  of  wit,  is  a  thing  to  be  shunned, 
 for  it  often  terminates  in  grossness  and 
 brutality.  The  following  fable  may  illus- 
 triite  the  degradation  of  mind  and  taste  to 
 which  it  may  lead  : 
 A  bee  and  beetle  chanced  to  meet, 
 
 One  sunny  day,  upon  a  rose ; 
 His  neighbour  thus  the  bee  did  greet. 
 
 Although,  mpan\vhile,he  held  his  nose: — 
 "  I  wonder  much  to  meet  you  here, 
 
 For  surely  you  don't  feast  on  roses  ?" 
 The  beetle  answered  with  a  sneer, 
 
 "  1  know  the  idle  fool  supposes 
 That  in  a  rose  there's  nouglit  but  honey. 
 
 You  think  a  flower,  so  fair  to  view, 
 With  breath  so  sweet,  and  cheek  so  sunny. 
 
 Is  only  made  for  things  like  you ! 
 But, — prithee,  do  not  look  so  sour, — 
 
 A  thing  that  hath  a  nose  like  mine 
 May  turn  the  breath  of  sweetest  flower — 
 
 Of  rose,  carnation,  columbine — 
 To  odours  fetid  as  the  air 
 
 Where  beetles  love  to  delve  and  dine. 
 Each  has  his  gift  for  foul  or  fair — 
 
 You  buzz,  have  yours,  and  I  have  mine !" 
 S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 RIDICULE— Treatment  of. 
 Betray  mean  terror  of  ridicule,  thou  shalt 
 
 find  fools  enough  to  mock  thee ; 
 But  answer  thou  their  language  with  con- 
 tempt, and  the  scoffers  will  lick  thy 
 feet.  Tupper. 
 
 RIGHT  IS  MIGHT. 
 
 As  sure  as  God  liveth,  as  sure  as  the 
 Holy  One  of  Israel  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
 the  Almighty,  Right  is  Might,  and  ever 
 was,  and  ever  shall  be  so.  Holiness  is 
 might :  Meekness  is  might :  Patience  is 
 might :  Humility  is  might :  Self-denial  and 
 Self-sacrifice  is  might:  Faith  is  might: 
 Love  is  might:  every  gift  of  the  Spirit 
 is  nught.  The  Cross  was  two  pieces  of 
 dead  wood;  and  a  helpless,  unresi.-ting 
 Man  was  nailed  to  it :  yet  it  was  mightier 
 than  the  world,  and  triumphed,  and  will 
 ever  triumph  over  it.  Heaven  and  earth 
 shall  ])ass  away,  but  no  pure,  holy  deed, 
 or  word,  or  thought.  On  the  other  band, 
 might,  that  which  the  children  of  earth 
 call  so,  the  strong  wind,  the  earthquake, 
 the  fire,  perishes  through  its  own  violence, 
 self-exhausted  and  self-consumed ;  as  our 
 age  of  the  world  has  been  allowed  to  wit- 
 ness in  the  mo>t  signal  example.  For 
 many  of  us  remember,  and  they  who  do 
 not  have  heard  from  their  fathers,  how 
 the  mightiest  man  on  earth,  he  who  had 
 girt  himself  with  all  might  except  that  of 
 right,  burst  like  a  tempest-cloud,  burnt 
 himself  out  hke  a  conflagration,  and  only 
 left  the  scars  of  his  ravages  to  mark  where 
 he  had  been.  Who  among  you  can  look 
 into  an  infant's  face,  and  not  see  a  power 
 in  it  mightier  than  all  the  armies  of  Attila 
 or  Napoleon  ?  Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 RIGHTEOUS-Iuture  of  the. 
 
 The  righteous  "  shall  shine  as  the  sun  " 
 in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  How 
 pure  the  sun  !  his  beams  are  undefiled  by 
 all  the  pollutions  of  this  polluted  world ; 
 the  rigliteous  shall  be  "  without  spot  or 
 wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing."  How  useful 
 the  sun  !  he  lights  distant  worlds  with  his 
 beams,  he  is  the  life  of  the  system.  The 
 righteous  shall  serve  God  and  His  universe 
 day  and  night.  How  glorious  is  the  sun '. 
 he  stands  alone  in  the  heavens  the  obje*'> 
 of  universal  admiration.  The  righteou* 
 shall  be  "made  kings  and  priests  uiitv» 
 God."  They  shall  shine  for  ever,  yes.  and 
 ever  brighten  as  they  shine.  The  sun  has 
 not  increased  in  splendour  for  thousands 
 of  years,  nor  does  it  light  any  more  worlds 
 than  it  did  at  first ;  but  the  righteous  shall 
 increase  in  splendour,  they  shall  advance 
 "  from  glory  to  giory."  They  shall  brigb<-en 
 their  lustre,  widen  their  orbits,  and  extend 
 their  influence  in  the  boundless  future. 
 
 Br.  Thomas. 
 RIGHTEOUS— Reward  of  the. 
 
 We  have  no  means  of  fully  knowing 
 what  Christ  signifies  by  "reward;"  judg- 
 ing, however,  by  the  displays  of  His  bounty 
 in  nature,  and  by  His  "exceeding  great 
 and  precious  promises,"  we  may  infer 
 somewhat  of  its  grandeur  and  pei  maneuce. 
 48 
 
754 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— RIGHTEOUSNESS  OP  THE  LAW. 
 
 We  read  of  the  "  crown  of  life  "  and  an  in- 
 heritance, incorruptible,  uudeRled,  and  that 
 fadeth  not  away  ;  the  good  doer  is  not  to 
 receive  a  wreath  of  laurel,  or  parsley,  or 
 pine,  such  as  was  given  at  the  Isthmian  and 
 Nemean  games,  but  is  to  be  adorned  with 
 a  chaplet  of  amaranth, — the  good  doer  is 
 not  to  wander  in  a  perishing  Eden,  but  in 
 a  paradise  whose  beauty  and  fruitage,  and 
 fragrance  are  endless  as  eternity. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Parlcer. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— Hungering  for. 
 
 If  hunger  for  the  corru])t  bread  of  nature 
 was  the  fall  of  man,  if  the  actual  eating 
 of  the  same  developed  in  man  the  corrupt 
 body  of  flesh ;  then  a  hunger  for  the  incor- 
 ruptible bread  of  righteousness  is  an  evi- 
 dence that  the  new  life  in  Christ  is 
 awakened  in  man,  and  the  actual  eating  of 
 that  new  aud  living  bread,  which  is  the 
 flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man,  will  develop  again 
 in  man  the  incorruptible  nature.  As 
 sensual  souls  abstain  from  the  Eternal 
 Bread,  and  surrender  body  and  soul  to 
 natnre's  bread,  the  holiest  souls  have  at 
 times  abstained  from  nature's  bread  in 
 order  to  turn  their  longing  appetite  wholly 
 to  the  bread  of  eternity.  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— Imputed. 
 
 When  we  walk  abroad  on  a  beautiful 
 day,  and  survey  a  landscape  lit  up  by  the 
 beams  of  a  summer  sun,  our  eye  catches  a 
 variety  of  colours  lying  on  the  surface  of 
 this  landscape, — there  is  the  yellow  of  the 
 golden  grain,  the  green  of  the  pasture  land, 
 the  dark  brown  of  those  thick-planted 
 copses,  the  silver  gleam  of  the  stream 
 which  winds  through  them,  the  faint  blue 
 of  distant  hills  seen  in  perspective,  the 
 more  intense  blue  of  the  sky,  the  purple 
 tinge  of  yonder  sheet  of  water ;  but  none 
 of  these  colours  reside  in  the  landscape, 
 they  are  not  the  properties  of  the  material 
 objects  on  which  they  rest.  All  colours 
 are  wrapped  up  in  tiie  sunlight,  which,  as 
 is  well  known,  may  be  seen  resolved  into 
 its  elementary  colours  in  the  prism  or  rain- 
 bow. Apart  from  the  sunlight  no  oliject 
 has  any  coli>ur :  as  is  shown  by  the  fact 
 that,  as  soon  as  light  is  withdrawn  from 
 the  landscape,  the  colours  fade  from  the 
 robe  of  Nature.  The  difference  of  colour 
 in  different  objects,  while  the  sun  is  shining 
 is  produced  by  some  subtle  dilference  of 
 texture  or  superficies,  which  makes  each 
 object  absorb  certain  rays,  and  reflect 
 certain  other  rays,  in  different  proportions. 
 Now  Christ  is  the  Sun  of  Rigliteousness, 
 in  Whom  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the 
 Godhead  bodily — the  fair  colour  of  every 
 grace  and  Cliristian  virtue.  When  Christ  is 
 shining  upon  the  heart,  then  these  virtues 
 ari'  manifested  there,  by  one  Christian  graces 
 of  one  deacription,  by  another  of  another. 
 
 according  to  their  different  receptivity  and 
 natural  temperament,  just  as,  when  the 
 sun  is  shining,  colours  are  thrown  upon  a 
 landscape,  and  reflected  by  the  ditterent 
 objects  in  ditterent  proportions.  But  as 
 no  part  of  the  landscape  has  any  colour 
 in  the  absence  of  the  sun,  nor  can  acquire 
 any  independently  of  the  sun,  so  Christians 
 have  no  grace  except  from  Christ,  nor  hold 
 any  virtue  independently  of  Him. 
 
 i>r.  Goulbourn. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— Need  of. 
 
 Righteousness  is  God's  first  requirement 
 and  our  first  need.  For  this  the  hypocrite 
 toils,  as  he  clothes  his  nakedness  with 
 filthy  rags;  for  this  the  humble  hunger 
 and  thirst ;  for  this  the  law  rages  like  the 
 sea  in  a  storm ;  and  this  in  Divine  perfec- 
 tion the  Lord  Jesus  has  wrought  out,  and 
 brought  in,  and  offered  free.  Arnot. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— its  own  Reward. 
 
 As  every  flower  hath  its  sweet  smell ;  so 
 every  good  action  hath  its  sweet  reflection 
 upon  the  soul ;  and  as  Cardeii  saith,  that 
 every  precious  stone  hath  some  egregious 
 virtue  ;  so  righteousness  is  its  own  reward, 
 though  few  men  think  so  and  act  accord- 
 ingly. F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS— Threefold. 
 
 There  is  a  glorifying  righteousness  of 
 men  in  the  world  to  come,  and  there  is  a 
 justifying  and  a  sanctifying  righteousness 
 here.  The  righteousness,  wherewith  we 
 shall  be  clotlied  in  the  world  to  come,  is 
 both  perfect  and  inherent.  That  whereby 
 here  we  are  justified  is  perfect  but  not  in- 
 herent. That  whereby  we  are  sanctified  is 
 inherent,  but  not  perfect.  Hooker. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS  OP  PAITH. 
 
 The  righteousness  which  is  of  faith 
 speaketh  in  this  wise, — "  Say  not  in  thine 
 heart,  Who  shall  ascend  into  heaven  ?  that 
 is  to  bring  down  Christ  from  above,"  (as 
 though  it  were  some  impossible  task  which 
 God  required  thee  previously  to  perform,  in 
 order  to  thine  acceptance)  :  "  or.  Who  shall 
 descend  into  tlie  deep  ?  that  is,  to  bring  up 
 Christ  from  the  dead;"  (as  though  that 
 were  still  remaining  to  be  done,  for  the 
 sake  of  which  thou  wert  to  be  accepted). 
 "  But  what  saith  it  ?  The  word"  (accord- 
 ing to  the  tenor  of  which,  thou  mayest 
 now  be  accepted  as  an  heir  of  life  eternal), 
 "  is  nigh  thee,  even  in  thy  mouth  and  in 
 thy  heart,  that  is,  the  word  of  faith,  which 
 we  preach ;"  the  new  covenant  which  God 
 hath  now  established  with  sinful  man, 
 through  Christ  Jesus.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS  OP  THE  LAW. 
 
 The  righteousness  which  is  of  the  law 
 speaketh  on  this  wise  :   "  Thou,  0  man  of 
 
RIGHTEOUSNESS  OF  LAW  AND  FAITH— SABBATH. 
 
 755 
 
 God,  stand  fast  in  love,  in  the  image  of 
 God,  wherein  thou  art  made.  If  thou  wilt 
 remain  in  life,  keep  the  commandments, 
 which  are  now  written  in  thy  heart.  Love 
 the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart.  Love 
 as  thyself  every  soul  that  He  hath  made. 
 Desire  nothing  but  God.  Aim  at  God  in 
 every  thought,  in  every  word  and  work. 
 Swerve  not  in  one  motion  of  body  or  soul 
 from  Him  thy  murk,  and  the  prize  of  thy 
 high  calling.  And  let  all  that  is  in  thee 
 praise  His  holy  name,  every  power  and 
 faculty  of  thy  soul,  in  every  kind,  in  every 
 degree,  and  at  every  moment  of  thine 
 existence.  This  do  and  thou  shall  live  : 
 thy  light  shall  shine,  thy  love  shall  flame 
 more  and  more,  till  thou  art  received  up 
 into  the  house  of  God  in  the  heavens,  to 
 reign  with  Him  for  ever  and  ever." 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 RIGHTEOUSNESS  OF  LAW  AND  FAITH. 
 
 What  is  the  difference  then  between  the 
 righteousness  tohich  is  of  the  Law,  and  the 
 righteousness  tohich  is  of  Faith  ?  Between 
 the  first  covenant,  or  the  Covenant  of 
 Works,  and  the  second,  the  Covenant  of 
 Grace  ?  The  essential,  unchangeable  dif- 
 ference is  this :  the  one  supposes  him  to 
 whom  it  is  given  to  be  already  holy  and 
 happy,  created  in  the  image  and  enjoying 
 the  favour  of  God;  and  prescribes  the  con- 
 dition whereon  he  might  continue  therein 
 in  love  and  joy,  life  and  immortality.  The 
 other  supposes  him  to  whom  it  is  given  to 
 be  now  unholy  and  unhappy,  fallen  short 
 of  the  glorious  image  of  God,  having  the 
 wrath  of  God  abiding  on  him,  and  hasten- 
 ing through  sin,  whereby  his  soul  is  dead 
 to  bodily  death,  and  death  everlasting. 
 And  to  a  man  in  this  state,  it  prescribes 
 the  condition  whereon  he  may  recover  the 
 favour  and  the  image  of  God,  may  retrieve 
 the  life  of  God  in  his  soul,  and  be  restored 
 to  the  knowledge  and  the  love  of  God, 
 which  is  the  beginning  of  life  eternal. 
 
 Ibid. 
 ROD— Passing  under  the. 
 I  saw  when  a  father  and  mother  had  leaned 
 
 On  the  arms  of  a  dear  cherished  son. 
 And  the  star  in  the  future  grew  bright  in 
 their  gaze, 
 
 As  they  saw  the   proud  place  he  had 
 won ; 
 And  the  fast  coming  evening  of  life  pro- 
 mised fair. 
 
 And  its  pathway  grew  smooth  to  their 
 feet. 
 And   the   star-light   of    Love    glimmered 
 bright  at  the  end. 
 
 And  the  whispers  of  Fancy  were  sweet ; 
 But  I  saw  when  they  stood  bending  low 
 o'er  the  grave 
 
 Where   their  hearts'  dearest  hope  had 
 been  laid. 
 
 And  the  star  had  gone  down  in  the  dark- 
 ness of  night. 
 And  joy  from  their  bosom  had  fled. 
 But  the  Healer  was  there,  and  His  arms 
 were  arouud. 
 And  He  led  them  with  tenderest  care. 
 And  He  showed  them  a  star  in  the  bright 
 upper  world — 
 'Twas  their  star  shining  brilliantly  there ! 
 They  had  each  heard  a  voice — 'twas  the 
 
 voice  of  their  God, 
 "  I  love  thee,   I  love  thee — pass   under 
 the  rod  !"  M.  S.  £.  Dana. 
 
 RUMOUR— Description  of. 
 
 Rumour's  a  pipe 
 Blown  by  surmises,  jealousies,  conjectures ; 
 And  of  so  easy  and  plain  a  stop,       [heads, 
 That  the  blunt  monster  with  uncounted 
 The  still,  discordant,  wavering  multitude, 
 Can  play  upon  it.  Shakesjpeare. 
 
 RUMOUR— Exaggeration  of. 
 The  flying  rumours  gather'd  as  they  roll'd; 
 Scarce  any  tale  was  sooner  heard  than  told. 
 And  all  who  told  it  added  something  new. 
 And  all  who  heard  it,  made  enlargement 
 
 too ;  [grew. 
 
 In  every  ear  it  spread,  on  every  tongue  it 
 £ope. 
 RUMOUR— Swiftness  of. 
 
 Rumour  was  the  messenger 
 Of  defamation,  and  so  swift  that  none 
 Could  be  the  first  to  tell  an  evil  tale; 
 And  was  without  so  infamous  for  lies, 
 That  he  who  of  her  sayings  on  his  creed 
 The  fewest  entered,   was  deemed   wisest 
 
 man.  Follock. 
 
 S. 
 
 SABBATH— Benefit  of. 
 
 The  Sabbath  is  God's  special  present  to 
 the  working  man,  and  one  of  its  chief 
 objects  is  to  prolong  his  life,  and  preserve 
 efficient  his  working  tone.  In  the  vital 
 system  it  acts  like  a  compensation-pond; 
 it  replenishes  the  spirits,  the  elasticity, 
 and  vigour,  which  the  last  six  days  have 
 drained  away,  and  supplies  the  force  which 
 is  to  fill  the  six  days  succeeding;  and  in 
 the  economy  of  existence,  it  answers  the 
 same  purpose  as,  in  the  economy  of  in- 
 come, is  answered  by  a  savings'-bank. 
 The  frugal  man  who  puts  aside  a  pound 
 to-day,  and  another  pound  next  month, 
 and  who  in  a  quiet  way  is  always  putting 
 by  his  stated  pound  from  time  to  time, 
 when  he  grows  old  and  frail,  get  not  only 
 the  same  pounds  back  again,  but  a  good 
 many  pounds  besides.  And  the  conscien- 
 tious man,  who  husbands  one  day  of  ex- 
 istence every  week  ;  who,  instead  of  allow- 
 ing the  Sabbath  to  be  trampled  and  torn 
 
756 
 
 SABBATH. 
 
 in  the  hurry  and  scramhl*  of  life,  treasures 
 it  devoutly  up — the  Lord  of  the  Sabbath 
 keeps  it  for  liiin,  and,  in  length  of  days 
 and  a  hale  old  age,  gives  it  back  with 
 usury.  The  savings' -bank  of  human  ex- 
 istence is  the  weekly  Sabbath. 
 
 Dr.  Blailie. 
 SABBATH— Blessings  of  the. 
 
 It  is  impossible  to  estimate  the  blessed 
 effect  produced  upon  a  nation's  health  and 
 happiness  when,  on  the  return  of  each 
 Sunday,  millions  are  thus  set  free  from 
 toil ;  when  the  ledger  is  closed  on  the 
 desk  ;  when  the  hammer  rests  upon  the 
 anvil,  and  the  wheel  in  the  factory ;  when 
 the  mine,  sends  forth  its  crowds  into  the 
 light  and  glory  of  this  new-born  day ; 
 and  when  men  can  rest  their  wearied 
 frames,  or  tread  the  green  earth  or  hoary 
 mountain  and  breathe  the  fresh  air,  and 
 look  calmly  upon  the  blue  sky  overhead, 
 or  listen  to  the  sounding  stream  or  beating 
 sea-wave;  and  when  the  very  dumb  cattle 
 partake  of  the  universal  blessing,  though 
 as  unconscious  as  many  of  their  masters  of 
 the  loving  Hand  which  has  bestowed  it. 
 On  this  day  that  Saviour,  who  was  Himself 
 so  often  wearied,  who  as  a  man  knows 
 what  is  in  man,  and  who  sympathiseth 
 with  his  every  want,  seems  yet  to  address 
 all  his  brethren  with  the  gracious  invi- 
 tation, "  Come  here,  and  rest  a  while." 
 
 Dr.  Macleod. 
 SABBATH— Change  of  the. 
 
 The  first  day  of  the  week  was  every- 
 where celebrated  for  the  Christian  Sabbath, 
 and  which  is  not  to  be  passed  over  v/ithout 
 observing,  as  far  as  appears  from  Scripture, 
 there  is  nowhere  any  dispute  about  the 
 matter.  There  was  controversy  concern- 
 ing circumcision,  and  other  points  of  the 
 Jewish  religion,  whether  they  were  to  be 
 retained  or  not,  but  nowhere  do  we  read 
 concerning  the  change  of  the  Sabbath. 
 There  were  indeed  some  Jews  converted  to 
 the  Gospel,  who  as  in  some  other  things 
 they  retained  a  smack  of  their  old  Judaism, 
 so  they  did  in  the  observance  of  days 
 (Rom.  xiv,  5  ;  Gal.  iv,  10),  but  yet  not 
 rojectlng  or  neglecting  the  Lord's  day. 
 They  celebrated  it  and  made  no  manner 
 of  scruple,  it  appears,  concerning  it ;  but 
 they  would  have  their  old  festival  days 
 too ;  and  they  disputed  not  at  all,  whether 
 the  Lord's  day  were  to  be  celebrated,  but 
 whether  the  Jewish  Sabbath  ought  not  to 
 be  celebrated.  Lightfoot. 
 
 SABBATH— Doctrine  of  the. 
 
 The  Doctrine  of  the  Sabbath  is  one 
 combined  with  the  moral  history  of  the 
 world,  and  is  dovetailed  into  the  religious, 
 the  physical,  the  social,  and  the  prospective 
 life  of  man.  When  God  instituted  His 
 day,  did  He  not  intend  by  this  to  signify 
 
 that  even  with  Him  labour  has  rest,  and 
 the  most  stupendous  monuments  of  His 
 power,  their  ulterior  designs  in  something 
 much  quieter  than  the  opus  operatum  of 
 their  formation  ? 
 
 Rightly  understood,  the  doctrine  of  the 
 Sabbath  is  the  rationale,  not  merely  of 
 man  and  the  world,  but  of  the  universe. 
 It  attests,  in  opposition  to  the  phantasies 
 of  Atheism,  the  existence  of  all  things  by 
 One  Sovereign  will,  which  began  its  opera- 
 tions when  it  listed,  and,  in  like  manner, 
 ceased  whenever  its  own  purposes  had  been 
 wrought  out. 
 
 The  Sabbath  is  the  oracle  of  the  first 
 line  of  the  Bible,  eternally  outspoken; 
 "  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven 
 and  the  earth."  With  Him,  as  the  Author 
 of  all  things,  there  was  "  a  beginning"  and 
 ending,  in  utter  contrariety  to  the  notion 
 that  Nature  was  an  eternal  birth  of  some 
 power  co-existent  with,  not  anterior  to, 
 itself — an  eternal  emanation,  whose  out- 
 goings have  no  periods  of  surceasing,  and 
 utterly  excluding  the  doctrine  of  final 
 causes.  Q.  Steward. 
 
 SABBATH— Necessity  of  the. 
 
 Although  the  night  apparently  equalises 
 the  circulation  well,  yet  it  does  not  suffi- 
 ciently restore  its  balance  for  the  attain- 
 ment of  a  long  life.  Hence  one  day  in 
 seven,  by  the  bounty  of  Providence,  is 
 thrown  in  as  a  day  of  compensation  to 
 perfect  by  its  repose  the  animal  system. 
 You  may  easily  determine  this  question  by 
 trying  it  on  beasts  of  burden.  Take  that 
 fine  animal,  the  horse,  and  work  him  to 
 the  full  extent  of  his  powers  every  day  of 
 the  week,  or  give  him  rest  one  day  in 
 seven,  and  you  will  socm  perceive,  by  the 
 superior  vigour  with  which  he  perfbi-ms 
 his  functions  on  the  other  six  days,  that 
 this  rest  is  necessary  to  his  well-being. 
 Man,  possessing  a  superior  nature,  is  borne 
 along  by  the  very  vigour  of  his  mind,  so 
 that  the  injury  of  continued  diurnal  exer- 
 tion and  excitement  in  his  animal  system, 
 is  not  so  immediately  apparent  as  it  is  in 
 the  brute;  but,  in  the  long-run,  it  breaks 
 down  more  suddenly  ;  it  abridges  the 
 length  of  his  life  and  that  vigour  of  his 
 old  age,  which  (as  to  mere  animal  power) 
 ought  to  be  the  object  of  his  preservation. 
 
 .  .  ,  .  This  is  said  simply  as  a  phy- 
 sician, and  without  reference  at  all  to  the 
 theological  question.  Br.  Farre. 
 
 SABBATH— Recognised  hy  the  Church. 
 
 This  characteristic  feature  of  the  first 
 day  of  the  week  is  one  of  the  most  remark- 
 able in  the  history  of  the  world.  In 
 mountain  recesses,  in  rural  hamlets,  in 
 hoary  cathedrals,  and  humble  chapels,  in 
 ships  far  off  on  the  sea,  in  the  distant 
 wilderness    settlemeat,   amidst    the   must 
 
SABBATH— SACEIPICE. 
 
 757 
 
 civilised  nations  and  amonprst  the  rudest 
 barbarians,  wherever  the  Christian  cotn- 
 muulty  exists,  there,  as  a  rule,  is  found 
 Christian  worship  upon  this  day.  From 
 the  snows  of  Labrador  in  the  north  to  the 
 Coral  Islands  in  the  south,  from  the  plains 
 of  India  in  the  east,  across  Africa  and 
 Europe,  and  on  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  of 
 the  far  west,  when  the  sun  ushers  in  this 
 day  of  the  Lord,  it  ushers  in  a  day  of 
 worship  for  all  ranks  and  conditions  of 
 men.  On  tliis  day  tens  of  thousands  of 
 Ciiristian  ministers  read  from  the  Bil)le, 
 and  oiler  up  prayer  in  the  midst  of  millions 
 who  gather  around  them,  listening  to  their 
 words  or  joining  in  their  devotions,  while 
 angels  bear  the  mighty  hallelujah  chorus 
 of  praise  rising  from  the  earth  to  the 
 throne  of  God.  It  is  not  too  much  to 
 say,  that  without  the  Sunday,  the  Church 
 of  Christ  could  not  as  a  visible  society  exist 
 on  earth.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 SABBATH— Types  and  Uses  of  the. 
 
 Hail  to  the  day,  which  He,  who  made  the 
 heaven, 
 
 Earth,  and  their  armies,  sanctified  and 
 blest. 
 
 Perpetual  memory  of  the  Maker's  rest ! 
 
 Hail  to  the  day,  when  He,  by  whom  was 
 given 
 
 New  life  to  man,  the  tomb  asunder  riven. 
 
 Arose!  That  day  His  Church  doth  still 
 confess, 
 
 At  once  Creation's  and  Redemption's  feast. 
 
 Sign  of  a  world  called  forth,  a  world  for- 
 given. 
 
 Welcome  that  day,  the  day  of  holy  peace. 
 
 The  Lord's  own  day !    to  man's  Creator 
 
 0W°(1, 
 
 And  man's  Redeemer;  for  the  soul's  in- 
 crease 
 In  sanctity,  and  sweet  repose  bestowed ; 
 Type  of  the  rest  when  sin  and  care  shall 
 
 cease. 
 The  rest  remaining  for  the  loved  of  God  ! 
 
 Bp.  Mant. 
 SABBATH— Word  for  the. 
 
 I  never  knew  a  man  to  escape  failures, 
 in  either  mind  or  body,  who  worked  seven 
 days  in  a  week.  Sir  R.  Feel. 
 
 SABBATH— World  without  a. 
 
 I  hold  that  a  world  without  a  Sabbath 
 would  be  like  a  man  without  a  smile,  like 
 a  summer  without  flowers,  and  like  a 
 homestead  without  a  garden.  It  is  the 
 joyous  day  of  the  whole  week. 
 
 S.  W.  Beeclier. 
 SABBATHS— Use  of. 
 
 Through  the  week  we  go  down  into  the 
 valleys  of  care  and  shadow.  Our  Sabbaths 
 shouid  be  hills  of  light  and  joy  in  God's 
 presence ;  and  so,  as  time  rolls  by,  we  shall 
 go  on  from  mountain  top  to  mountain  top. 
 
 till  at  last  we  catch  the  glory  of  the  gate, 
 and  enter  in  to  go  no  more  out  for  ever. 
 
 R.  W.  Beeclier. 
 SACRIFICE— Christian. 
 
 The  sacrifice  of  the  Jew  was  the  lamb, 
 the  heifer,  firstfruits,  &c.  The  sacrifice  of 
 the  Christian  is  Jesus,  who  gave  Himself 
 for  him.  Not  only  so ;  but  the  Christian 
 himself  is  a  sacrifice  to  Jesus,  living,  holy, 
 acceptable  ;  and  with  the  Christian  all  that 
 he  has.  For  we  cannot  conceive  that  Christ 
 should  have  the  Ciiristian  and  not  his  pro- 
 perty, any  more  than  that  the  Christian 
 should  have  Christ  and  not  the  benefits  of 
 His  grace.  As  St.  Paul  says,  that  God 
 with  Christ  has  given  us  all  things,  so  the 
 believer  with  the  sacrifice  of  himself  has 
 sacrificed  all  he  has  to  Christ.    John  Bate. 
 
 As  in  the  law  of  Moses  there  were  three 
 kinds  of  sacrifice — Immolations,  Libations, 
 and  Victims.  Immolations,  which  were 
 made  of  the  fruits  of  tlie  earth  ;  Libations 
 of  liquors,  as  oil  and  wine  ;  Victims,  of 
 living  creatures ;  so,  likewise,  God  requires 
 that  we  give  Him  our  actions  for  fruits, 
 our  aft'ections  for  liquors,  and  ourselves  for 
 victims.  2>l.  Caussin. 
 
 SACRIFICE- of  Christianity. 
 
 She  demands  of  us  the  sacrifice  of  body 
 and  soul  to  God.  But  wherefore  ?  Because 
 we  have  fallen  from  our  original  righteous- 
 ness ;  because  we  are  propense  to  forbidden 
 objects ;  because  we  are  guilty,  enslaved, 
 blind,  erring  creatures.  What  would  never 
 be  thought  of  by  a  person  in  health,  and 
 never  be  urged  upon  him,  may  be,  and  is 
 perfectly  reasonable  for  one  sinking  with 
 disease.  To  a  shipwrecked  mariner  that 
 becomes  most  reasonable  which  would  be 
 conti-ary  to  common  reason  were  he  sailing 
 with  a  favorable  wind.  '  A  prisoner  con- 
 demned to  die  by  the  laws  of  his  country 
 may  and  ought,  in  reason,  to  sue  for  pardon 
 and  submit  to  whatever  conditions  his 
 prince  imposes.  Thus  all  the  self-denial  of 
 Christianity,  its  penitence,  its  difficulties, 
 its  afflictions,  its  separation  from  the  sins 
 of  the  world,  its  humility,  its  vigilance,  its 
 holy  fear,  ai-e  most  reasonable  under  the 
 circumstances  in  wliich  man  is  placed,  and 
 with  the  eternity  wliich  is  before  him. 
 
 Bp.  B.  Wilson. 
 SACRIFICE— Christ's. 
 
 We  have  read  of  Leonidas  and  his  brave 
 three  hundred  compatriots  stoppino:  the 
 ravaging  march  of  the  Persians  at  Ther- 
 mopylro,  and  devoting  themselves  to  the 
 salvation  of  their  country.  We  have  read 
 of  the  King  of  the  Locrians,  who,  when 
 his  son  had  broken  the  laws,  the  demand 
 of  which  was  that  both  his  eyes  sliould 
 be  put  out,  mitigated  the  punishment  by 
 giving  in  exchange  for  one  of  them  an  eye 
 
753 
 
 SACEIFICE— SAINT. 
 
 of  his  own ;  thus  enduring,  self-devotedly, 
 a  part  of  the  suffering  allotted  to  his  child. 
 We  have  read  of  the  queen  who  sucked  the 
 poison  from  the  wound  of  the  king  her 
 consort,  though  convinced  that  death  would 
 be  the  consequence  of  her  heroic  act.  We 
 have  read  of  the  Polish  servant,  who,  when 
 pursued  by  wolves,  first  gave  up  his  horse 
 to  be  devoured,  then  yielded  up  his  own 
 body  to  the  rapacious  animals  to  stay  their 
 pursuit,  while  his  master  and  mistress — the 
 Count  and  Countess  Podotsky — got  safely 
 within  the  walls  of  the  adjacent  city.  And 
 numerous  have  been  the  instances  wherein 
 soldiers  have  caught  the  death  blows  in- 
 tended for  their  commanders — not  merely 
 risking,  but  devoting  their  own  lives  for 
 the  salvation  of  a  life  which  they  held  to 
 he  more  ira])ortant  than  their  own.  And 
 is  such  conduct  reprobated  by  the  general 
 mass  of  mankind  ?  Is  it  pointed  out  as  an 
 abuse  of  the  instinct  of  self-preservation, 
 an  impropriety,  a  discordance  with  the 
 general  tenor  of  experience,  and  irrecon- 
 cilable with  the  facts  of  the  physical  uni- 
 verse ?  Far  from  it.  Why,  then,  should 
 the  sacrifice  of  Christ  ?  T.  Eagg. 
 
 SACRIFICE— Doctrine  of. 
 
 All  nations  have  oiTered  sacrifice  to  some 
 beings  whom  they  have  deified.'  There  is 
 no  region  where  the  pilgrim's  foot  can 
 travel  where  you  will  not  find  ofi'erings, 
 some  sanguinary,  some  libidinous,  some 
 foolish,  but  all  to  propitiate  the  anger, 
 or  secure  the  protection  of  some  fancied 
 object  of  worship.  There  comes  a  cry 
 groaning  out  of  the  great  heart  of  hu- 
 manity, "  What  is  the  acceptable  sacri- 
 fice ?"  Strange  divinations  and  sti-eaming 
 altars;  cakes  for  the  queen  of  heaven,  and 
 prostrations  before  the  brazen  image : 
 children  for  the  insatiate  Moloch  passing 
 through  the  scorching  fire — these  are  the 
 responses  from  classical  and  pagan  times. 
 African  Fetishism,  Hindoo  immolations, 
 and  Burman  cruelties,  and  the  atrocities 
 of  savage  cannibalism — these  are  the  hollow 
 answers  from  the  uninstructed  consciences 
 of  heathens.  Cold  morality  and  rubrical 
 exactitude,  and  sacramental  efficacy,  and 
 ascetical  self-denial — these  are  the  polite 
 and  conventional  theories  of  modern  for- 
 malism. And  so  they  are  successively 
 offered,  and  the  worshippers  look  and 
 strain  their  eyes  eagerly  for  the  accept- 
 ing fire.  All  is  silent.  The  clouds  are 
 dark  above,  and  there  is  no  voice,  nor 
 any  that  regardeth  the  cold,  and  proud, 
 and  cruel  sacrifice.  But  yonder,  crouch- 
 ing in  very  humbleness  of  attitude,  with 
 eye  that  he  almost  fears  to  lift,  but  that 
 yet,  struggling  through  their  tears,  fasten 
 their  far,  deep  gaze  upon  the  crucified, 
 there  is  a  poor,  contrite  sinner  without 
 an  offering,  save  that  he  offers  himself; 
 
 without  a  plea,  save  that  lie  is  guilty, 
 and  that  Christ  hath  died  ;  without  a 
 hope,  save  in  the  multitude  of  God's 
 tender  mercies :  and  clouds  roll  harmlessly 
 away,  and  the  sky  clears,  and  the  lambent 
 fire  leaps  down,  and  the  voice  speaks  from 
 the  Man  at  the  right  hand,  "  The  sacrifices 
 of  God  are  a  broken  and  a  contrite  spirit ; 
 a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart  God  will  not 
 despise."  W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 SACRIFICE  (Doctrine  of)— Universal. 
 
 In  addition  to  the  fact  that  life  is  daily 
 sacrificed  for  the  sustentation  of  life,  the 
 belief  of  a  higher  sacrifice  would  also  seem 
 to  be  one  of  man's  most  unconquerable  in- 
 stincts. Search  for  him  when  we  will,  or 
 where  we  will,  in  every  age  of  the  world, 
 in  every  country  under  heaven,  sunk  in 
 ignorance  and  barbarism,  or  raised  to  the 
 highest  pitch  of  civilisation,  that  doctrine, 
 more  or  less  developed,  still  is  his  com- 
 panion. He  slays  the  victim  as  an  offering 
 to  God  ;  or  he  punishes  himself,  morally  or 
 physically,  as  an  expiation  of  his  sin.  And 
 whence  the  universal  prevalence  of  such  an 
 idea  ?  It  is  idle  to  speak  of  it  as  the 
 result  of  superstition.  Blindness  and  ig- 
 norance can  lead  to  no  such  uniformity  of 
 result.  If  in  some  one  dark  nation  of  an- 
 tiquity, or  among  some  one  of  the  races  of 
 mankind,  such  a  notion  as  expiation  had 
 been  discovered,  it  might,  with  sufficient 
 reason  have  been  assigned  to  superstition 
 as  its  originator.  If  a  few  of  those  nations 
 or  races,  had  seemed  strangely  to  agree  in 
 such  a  doctrine,  it  might  have  been  ac- 
 counted a  remarkable  fact,  an  illustration 
 of  the  doctrine  "  of  transmitted  instincts ;" 
 and  would,  among  Ethnologists  have  been 
 considered  a  powerful  evidence  of  their 
 indentity  of  origin.  But  the  idea  is  as  ex- 
 tensive as  the  species.  Its  universal  pre- 
 valence is  an  irrefragable  evidence  of  one 
 out  of  two  facts.  It  is  either  a  proof  that 
 the  doctrine  was  taught  by  the  common 
 progenitor  of  mankind,  to  whom  it  was  in 
 some  way  supernaturally  communicated; 
 or  that  it  was  an  instinct  implanted  by  the 
 Author  of  our  being,  which,  like  all  other 
 instincts,  must  meet  with  its  appropriate 
 answer.  T.  Ragg. 
 
 SAINT— True. 
 
 A  true  saint  is  a  divine  landscape  or  pic- 
 ture, where  all  the  rare  beauties  of  Christ  are 
 lively  portrayed  and  drawn  forth.  He  hath 
 the  same  spirit,  the  same  judgment,  the  same 
 will,  with  Jesus  Christ.  T.  Watson. 
 
 SAINT— in  the  World. 
 
 Some  rivers,  as  historians  tell  us,  pass 
 through  others  without  mingling  with 
 them  ;  just  so  should  a  saint  pass  through 
 this  world.  Venning, 
 
SAINTS. 
 
 759 
 
 SAINTS— Comvprlscns  of." 
 
 Saints  are  compared  to  the  Sun ;  to  the 
 Stars ;  Lights ;  Mount  Zion ;  Lebanon  ; 
 Treasure  ;  Jewels ;  Gold ;  Vessels  of  gold 
 and  silver ;  Stones  of  a  crown ;  Lively 
 stones  ;  Babes  ;  Little  children  ;  Obedient 
 children ;  Members  of  the  body ;  Soldiers  ; 
 Eunners  in  a  race ;  Wrestlers ;  Good  ser- 
 vants; Strangers  and  Pilgrims;  Sheep; 
 Lambs  ;  Calves  of  the  stall ;  Lions ;  Eagles; 
 Doves  ;  Thirsting  deer  ;  Good  fishes ;  Dew 
 and  showers ;  W^atered  gardens  ;  Unfailing 
 springs ;  Vines ;  Branches  of  the  vine ; 
 Pomegranates ;  Good  figs  ;  Lilies  ;  Willows 
 by  the  water  courses ;  Trees  ])lanted  by 
 rivers;  Cedars  in  Lebanon;  Palm-trees; 
 Com ;  Wheat ;  Salt.  John  Bate. 
 
 SAINTS— Corruptions  of. 
 
 Saints  should  do  by  their  corruptions,  as 
 Saul  was  commissioned  to  do  to  Amalck 
 (1  Sam.  XV,  3),  "  Go  and  smite  Amalek, 
 and  utterly  destroy  all  that  they  have,"&e.; 
 yea  they  should  do  as  Joshua,  who  withdrew 
 not  his  hand  until  he  had  utterly  destroyed 
 the  inhabitants  of  Ai.  He  that  is  mer- 
 ciful to  sin  is  cruel  to  his  own  soul. 
 
 Venning. 
 SAINTS— God's  Care  of  the. 
 
 Sooner  than  one  of  them  should  be  for- 
 gotten. He  would  forget  the  government 
 of  the  world  ;  and  would  suffer  the  nations 
 to  take  their  course,  rather  than  lose  sight 
 of  one  of  His  little  ones.  As  long  as  a  rose 
 of  His  planting  blooms  on  the  earth,  this 
 desert  is  to  Him  a  delightful  garden,  and 
 He  leaves  heaven  to  tend  and  nourish  this 
 plant.  And  happy  are  ye  who  are  the  weak 
 of  the  flock,  the  poor  and  needy  above 
 others !  It  would  seem  that  you  lie  the 
 nearest  to  His  heart.        Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 SAINTS— Jewels  of  God. 
 
 The  saints  are  God's  jewels.  Tliey  are 
 highly  esteemed  by  Him  and  are  dear  to 
 Him  ;  they  are  comely  with  the  comeliness 
 that  He  puts  upon  them,  and  He  is  pleased 
 to  glory  in  them  ;  they  are  a  royal  diadem 
 in  His  hand.  He  loolss  upon  them  as  His 
 own  proper  goods.  His  choice  goods.  His 
 treasure,  laid  up  in  His  cabinet,  and  the 
 furniture  of  His  closet  (Ps.  cxxx,  4) ;  the 
 rest  of  the  world  is  but  lumber  in  com- 
 parison with  them.  M,  Henry. 
 
 SAINTS— Names  of  the. 
 
 The  names  and  phrases  which  the  Spirit 
 of  God  employs,  in  the  Scriptures,  to  set 
 forth  the  character  of  the  saints,  are  nu- 
 merous and  suggestive.  The  following 
 selection  will  illustrate : 
 
 "  Beloved  brethren  ;  Blessed  of  the  Lord  ; 
 Blessed  of  the   Father;    Beloved  of  God; 
 Brethren;    Brethren  of  Christ;   Believers  i 
 called  of  Jesus  Christ;   Children   of  the  I 
 
 Lord ;  Children  of  God ;  Children  of  the 
 Living  God ;  Children  of  the  Father ; 
 Children  of  the  Highest;  Children  of 
 Abraham  ;  Children  of  Jacob  ;  Children  of 
 the  Promise ;  Children  of  the  free-woman ; 
 Children  of  the  kingdom ;  Children  of 
 Zion;  Children  of  the  bride-chamber; 
 Children  of  light;  Children  of  the  day; 
 Children  of  the  resurrection  ;  Chosen  gene- 
 ration ;  Chosen  ones ;  Chosen  vessels ; 
 Christians;  Counsellors  of  peace;  Dear 
 children;  Disciples  of  Christ;  Elect  of 
 God  ;  Epistles  of  Christ ;  The  Excellent ; 
 Fai.thful  brethren  in  Christ ;  The  Faithful ; 
 The  Faithful  in  the  land;  Fellow  citizens; 
 Fellow  heirs  ;  Fellow  servants ;  Friends  of 
 God ;  Friends ;  the  Godly  ;  Heirs  of  God  ; 
 Heirs  of  the  grace  of  life;  Heirs  of  the 
 kingdom  ;  Heirs  of  promise  ;  Heirs  of  Sal- 
 vation ;  Hidden  ones ;  Holy  brethren ; 
 Holy  and  mighty  people;  Holy  nation; 
 Holy  people ;  Holy  priesthood ;  Holy  seed ; 
 Joint  heirs  with  Christ ;  the  Just;  Kings 
 and  Priests  unto  God ;  Kingdom  of  priests ; 
 Lambs  ;  Lights  of  the  world  ;  Little  chil- 
 dren ;  Lively  stones ;  Members  of  Christ ; 
 Men  of  God  ;  Obedient  children  ;  Peculiar 
 people  ;  Peculiar  treasure ;  People  of  God ; 
 People  of  God's  pasture ;  People  of  inheri- 
 tance ;  People  near  unto  God  ;  People  pre- 
 pared for  the  Lord;  People  saved  of  the 
 Lord  ;  Pillars  in  the  temple  of  God  ;  Ran- 
 somed of  the  Lord ;  Redeemed  of  the  Lord ; 
 The  Righteous ;  Royal  priesthood ;  Salt  of 
 the  earth  ;  Seed  of  Abraham ;  Seed  of  the 
 Blessed  of  the  Lord ;  Servants  of  Christ ; 
 Servants  of  the  Lord;  Servants  of  the 
 Most  High  God;  Servants  of  righteous- 
 ness; Sheep  of  Christ;  Sheep  of  the  flock ; 
 Sheep  of  God's  hand ;  Sheep  of  God's  pas- 
 ture; Witnesses  for  God ;  Sojourners  with 
 God ;  Sons  of  God ;  Sons  of  the  living 
 God ;  the  Lord's  freemen;  the  Lord's  peo- 
 ple ;  Trees  of  righteousness ;  Vessels  unto 
 honour ;  Vessels  of  mercy."        John  Bate, 
 
 SAINTS— Sins  of. 
 
 Noah  was  guilty  of  drunkenness ;  Abra- 
 ham, and  Sarah,  and  Isaac  were  guilty  of 
 falsehood ;  Jacob  was  a  deceiver ;  M  oses 
 was  rash  and  angry  ;  Aaron  made  a  golden 
 calf  for  the  people  to  worship  at  the  foot 
 of  Sinai,  while  God  was  giving  the  law 
 above;  David  was  guilty  of  complicated 
 crimes ;  James  and  John  shosved  a  revenge- 
 ful spirit;  Peter  denied  the  Lord  Jesus. 
 There  is  scarcely  a  Scripture  character, 
 excepting  that  of  Christ,  but  has  some  stain 
 upon  it,  during  some  part  of  its  history. 
 
 This  fact  is  often  used  as  an  argument 
 against  the  Bible  and  its  religion.  But  it  is 
 more  eftectual  in  using  it  as  an  argument  in 
 favour  of  the  Bible  and  its  religion.  There 
 is  no  sanction  given  to  their  sins.  They 
 are  censured  and  condemned.  The  account 
 of  their   punishment   is   recorded.     They 
 
7W 
 
 SAINTS— SALVATION. 
 
 are  recnnlecl  as  warnins^s  to  future  a^es. 
 Tlie  record  of  these  f.iuits  is  iiu  evidence 
 of  the  hon3sty,  candour  and  authenticity 
 of  the  Bible. 
 
 Had  the  Scripture  characters  been  repre- 
 sented as  faultless,  the  Bible  would  h:ive 
 been  incredible.  Men  would  have  seeu 
 that  there  were  none  such  in  these  days, 
 and  they  would  have  said,  either  that 
 religion  had  lost  its  power,  or  never  had 
 any.  But  as  it  is,  the  accounts  of  Scrip- 
 ture and  the  actual  state  of  Christians  are 
 in  perfect  harmony,  Lewis. 
 
 In  a  great  naval  contest  of  England,  we 
 are  told  that  one  ship  ran  aground  so  as  to 
 be  entirely  out  of  reach  of  the  enemy,  but 
 contributed  very  much  to  the  victory,  by 
 serving  as  a  beacon  to  the  other  ships 
 bearing  down  into  action.  It  was  not  a 
 way  of  contributing  to  victory  which  any 
 brave  captain  would  choose,  but  it  would 
 be  a  matter  of  rejoicing  even  in  this  way, 
 to  serve  one's  country.  Aiul  so,  though 
 we  would  not  choose  that  holy  men  of  old 
 should  have  fallen  into  sins,  we  rejoice  that 
 that  the  great  Captain  of  our  salvation  is 
 making  use  of  their  failures  to  swell  the 
 triumphs  of  His  people,  and  to  bring  glory 
 to  His  great  name.  Ibid. 
 
 SAINTS— Unknown. 
 
 The  history  of  nearly  half  the  period 
 from  the  creation  to  the  present  day  would 
 have  been  entirely  lost  but  for  the  Bible. 
 The  earliest  heathen  authors  whose  writings 
 have  descended  to  us  lived  only  about  nine 
 hundred  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ, 
 so  that  all  the  knowledge  of  more  than  two 
 thousand  years  previous  is  treasured  up  in 
 the  first  few  books  of  Scripture.  And  even 
 there,  the  notices  which  are  given  are  very 
 brief  and  imperfect.  Of  sxich  a  man  as 
 Enoch,  so  holy  and  accepted  that  "  he  was 
 traiislated  that  he  should  not  see  death," 
 we  have  no  further  information  than  is 
 comprised  in  a  few  lines.  How  many, 
 then,  eminent  for  piety,  may  have  lived 
 and  died  to  us  unknown  !  As  there  are 
 stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  so  distant  as 
 to  be  yet  undiscovered  to  ns,  but  which 
 may  hereafter  be  revealed  in  some  day  of 
 more  perfect  science,  so  are  there  saints 
 equal,  perliaps,  to  many  of  those  recorded 
 in  Scripture,  whom  we  have  never  heard 
 of,  but  with  whom  we  may  be  acquainted 
 in  a  i'uture  state.  Ibid. 
 
 SALVATION— for  All. 
 
 If  I  were  to  come  as  an  accredited  agent 
 to  you  from  the  upper  sanctuary  with  a 
 letter  of  invitation  to  you,  with  your  name 
 and  address  on  it,  you  would  not  doubt 
 your  warrant  to  accept  it.  Well,  here  is 
 tlie  Bible — your  invitation  to  come  to 
 Christ — it  does  not  bear  your  name  and 
 
 address,  but  it  says,  "  Whosoever," — tha^ 
 takes  you  in ;  it  says  "  all," — that  takes 
 you  in  :  it  says,  "  if  an,!/, — that  takes  you 
 in.  What  can  be  surer  and  freer  than 
 that  ?  Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 SALVATION— Buying. 
 
 A  man  may  as  well  think  of  buying  light 
 from  the  sun ;  or  air  from  the  atmosphere ; 
 or  water  from  the  well-spring  ;  or  minA'als 
 from  the  earth ;  or  fish  from  the  sea,  &c., 
 as  think  of  buying  salvation  from  God, 
 with  any  kind  of  price.  The  sun  gives  his 
 light,  the  atmosphere  its  air,  the  well- 
 spring  its  water,  the  earth  its  minerals,  the 
 sea  its  fish :  all  man  has  to  do  is  to  take 
 them  and  use  them.  So  God  has  given 
 salvation  to  man.  All  he  has  to  do  is  to 
 use  it,  in  the  use  of  means,  and  enjoy  it. 
 
 John  Hate. 
 SALVATION— Certain  of. 
 
 Four  travellers,  not  very  well  acquainted 
 with  the  cross-road  they  were  journeying, 
 began  to  look  out  for  a  finger-post.  Soon 
 after  this  one  of  them  cried  out,  "  I  think 
 I  can  see  one  yonder,  in  the  distance ;" 
 "  and  I  believe  that  I  can  see  it  too,  about 
 half-a-niile  off,"  rejoined  another;  "  and  I 
 am  almost  certain  that  I  can  see  it,"  added 
 the  third,  "  it  stands  up  higher  than  the 
 hedges."  "  Well,  well !"  said  the  fourth, 
 "you  may  be  right,  or  you  may  be  wrong, 
 but  we  had  better  make  the  best  of  our 
 way  to  it,  for  while  we  keep  at  such  a  dis- 
 tance, whether  it  be  a  finger-post  or  not, 
 it  will  be  of  little  use  to  us." 
 
 Now  I  want  you  all  to  draw  near  to  the 
 Saviour  of  sinners,  and  not  to  be  satisfied 
 with  "  thinking,"  or  "  believing,"  or  be'ng 
 "  almost  certain "  that  He  is  your  Re- 
 deemer ;  1  want  you  to  see  Him  as  your 
 Saviour,  as  distinctly  as  you  can  see  the 
 sun  in  the  skies,  and  to  break  out  with  all 
 the  conviction  and  fervency  of  Thomas  the 
 Apostle,  "  My  Loi'd  and  my  God !"  John 
 XX,  28.  G.  Mogridge. 
 
 SALVATION— Charm  of. 
 
 Salvation !  What  music  is  there  in  that 
 word,  music  that  never  tires,  bat  is  always 
 new,  tluit  always  rouses  yet  always  rests  us! 
 It  holds  in  itself  all  that  our  hearts  would 
 say.  It  is  sweet  vigour  to  us  in  the  morn- 
 ing, and  in  the  evening  it  is  contented 
 peace.  It  is  a  song  that  is  always  singing 
 itself  deep  down  in  the  delighted  soul. 
 Angelic  ears  are  ravished  by  it  up  in 
 heaven;  and  our  Eternal  Father  Himself 
 listens  to  it  with  adorable  complacency. 
 It  is  sweet  even  to  Him  out  of  wiiosemind 
 is  the  music  of  a  thousand  worlds.  To  be 
 saved  !  What  is  it  to  be  saved  in  the 
 fullest  and  utmost  meaning  ?  Who  can 
 tell  ?  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard. 
 It  is  a  rescue,  and  from  such  a  shipwreck  ! 
 It  is  a  rest,  and  in  such  an  unimagina,blQ 
 
SALVATION. 
 
 761 
 
 home!  It  is  to  lie  down  for  ever  in  the 
 bosom  of  God  in  an  endless  rapture  of  in- 
 satiable contentment.      Dr.  F.  IV.  Faber. 
 
 SALVATION— Common. 
 
 The  Go-jiel  river  of  life  does  not  branch 
 ont  into  divers  streams.  There  is  not  a 
 broad  sweep  of  water  for  the  rich,  the  in- 
 tellectual, and  the  cultivated,  and  a  little 
 scant  runnel  where  the  poor  may  now  and 
 then  come  and  get  healed  by  the  side  of  its 
 precarious  wave.  There  is  no  costly  sana- 
 torium beneath  whose  shade  patrician  le- 
 prosy may  get  by  itself  to  be  fashionably 
 sprinkled  and  healed.  Naaraan  with  all 
 his  retinue  watching,  must  come,  and  dip, 
 and  ])lange  like  common  men  in  Jordan. 
 There  is  no  sort  of  salvation  except  the  one 
 ransom  and  deliverance  that  is  purchased 
 for  rich  and  poor  together  by  the  sacrifice 
 of  the  Lord  Jesus  Cln-ist,  and  the  poor 
 beggar,  his  garment  ragged  from  the  havoc 
 of  a  hundred  storms,  and  his  flesii  bleeding 
 from  the  ulcers  of  a  hundred  wounds,  may 
 dip  easrerly  into  the  same  Betliesda,  and 
 emerge  unscarred  and  comely  as  a  child. 
 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 Wherefore  is  this  called  the  common 
 salvation  ? — Three  reasons  may  perhaps  be 
 assigned  for  this. 
 
 1.  It  is  in  that  which  all  the  sacred 
 writers,  notwithstanding  their  diversity  of 
 aires  and  gifts,  are  agreed  in  teachi' g. 
 The  Old  Testament  writers  understood  it 
 less  than  the  New ;  but  they  all  died  in 
 the  faith  of  it.  They  "  testified  of  the 
 sufferings  of  Christ,  and  of  the  glory  that 
 should  follow.  To  him  gave  all  the 
 prophets  witness." 
 
 2.  It  is  that  which  is  addressed  to  sin- 
 ners in  common,  without  distinction  of 
 character  or  nation.  The  messages  of 
 grace  under  the  Old  Testament  were  prin- 
 cipally addressed  to  a  single  nation;  but 
 under  the  Gospel  they  are  addressed  to  all 
 nations,  to  "  every  creature."  The  Gospel 
 feast  is  spread,  and  all  are  pressed  to  par- 
 take of  it,  whatever  has  been  their  previous 
 character. 
 
 3.  It  is  that  in  which  all  believers,  not- 
 withstanding their  different  attainments 
 and  advantages,  are  in  substance  agreed 
 There  may  be  great  darkness,  imperfec- 
 tions, and  error,  and  many  prejudices  for 
 and  against  distinctive  names ;  but  let  the 
 doctrine  of  the  cross  be  stated  simply,  and 
 it  must  approve  itself  to  a  renewed  heart. 
 A  real  Christian  cannot  object  to  either  of 
 these  things  which  may  be  considered  as 
 belonging  to  the  common  salvation — to 
 the  necessity  of  it,  the  vicarious  medium 
 of  it,  the  freeness  of  it,  or  the  holy  efficacy 
 of  it.  Let  us  tlierefore  "  give  all  diligence" 
 in  attending  to  "  the  common  salvation." 
 
 A.  Fuller. 
 
 SALVATION— Degrees  in. 
 
 Salvation  may  be  presented  to  yonr 
 notice  as  consisting  of  four  successive 
 steps : 
 
 First,  conversion  ;  at  whatever  period  of 
 life,  or  by  whatever  instrumentality  accom- 
 plished. 
 
 Secondly,  sanctification  ;  carried  on  from 
 thence  to  the  end  of  life,  whether  long  or 
 short. 
 
 Thirdly,  the  happiness  of  the  disem- 
 bodied spirit,  which  we  call  death. 
 
 Lastly,  the  reunion  of  the  spirit  with  the 
 body,  risen  and  fashioned  like  Christ's 
 glorious  body.  Dr.  M'Neile. 
 
 SALVATION— by  Faith  and  Grace. 
 
 Faith  saves,  and  grace  saves ;  faith  as 
 the  instrument,  and  grace  as  the  Divine 
 efficacy  ;  faith  the  channel,  and  grace  the 
 heavenly  stream;  faith  t'le  finger  that 
 touches  the  garment's  fringe,  and  grace 
 the  virtue  that  pours  from  the  Saviour's 
 heart.  Faith  cannot  scale  the  dreadful 
 precipice  from  whicii  nature  has  fallen,  but 
 it  can  lay  hold  on  the  rope  which  grace 
 has  let  down  even  into  his  hands  from  the 
 top,  and  which  will  draw  up  again  with  all 
 the  burden  faith  can  bind  to  it.  And  this 
 is  all  the  mystery  of  faith's  saving.  Christ 
 reaches  down  from  heaven,  and  faith 
 reaches  up  from  earth,  and  each  hand 
 grasps  the  other;  one  in  weakness,  the 
 other  in  power.  Dr.  Hoge. 
 
 SALVATION— Free. 
 
 Shall  the  husbandman,  for  the  sake  of 
 the  harvest,  waste  his  strength  and  bear 
 the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  then, 
 when  the  ripe  corn  tempts  the  sickle,  in 
 very  wantonness  refuse  to  reap,  and  let  it 
 be  destroyed  ?  Shall  the  Lord  Jesus  un- 
 dertake to  suffer  for  us — shall  he  actually 
 toil,  and  groan,  and  grieve,  and  die  for  us 
 — and  then  let  the  fruit  of  all  His  sutl'er- 
 ings  be  1  st,  and  leave  us  to  perish  in  our 
 sins  ?  No,  it  cannot  be.  It  is  impossible 
 to  exaggerate  the  certainty  and  freeness  of 
 that  salvation  that  is  in  Christ  for  all  who 
 will  but  lay  hold  of  it.  It  is  impossible 
 that  anything  in  the  universe  can  lie  be- 
 tween you  and  eternal  life,  if  you  but 
 accept  it  as  "  the  gift,"  of  God  through 
 Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Caird. 
 
 SALVATION— Freeness  of. 
 
 Jesus  symbolised  the  freeness  of  His  sal- 
 vation by  the  freeness  with  which  He 
 bestowed  the  temporal  blessings  of  His 
 life.  He  fed  the  multitudes  with  loaves 
 and  fishes  to  entire  satisfaction,  and  made 
 them  no  charge.  He  healed  the  sick  which 
 no  other  physicians  could  heal,  but  He  de- 
 livered no  bill  of  expense.  He  opened  the 
 eyes  of  the  blind,  &c. ;  but  in  no  instance. 
 
762 
 
 SALVATIOIT. 
 
 did  He  seek,  ask,  desire,  or  receive  compen- 
 sation. John  Bate. 
 
 SALVATION — Freeness  and  Fulness  of. 
 
 There  are  two  precious  words  often  used 
 in  the  mouth  of  Christ.  "  Whosoever  will, 
 let  him  take  the  water  of  life  freely"  (Rev. 
 xxii,  17).  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in 
 ]Mfy  name,  that  will  I  do"  (John  xiv,  13). 
 "  Whosoever"  is  on  the  outside  of  the  gate, 
 and  lets  in  all  who  choose.  "  Whatsoever" 
 is  on  the  inside,  and  gives  those  who  enter 
 the  free  range  of  all  the  region  and  trea- 
 sury of  grace.  "  Whosoever"  makes  salva- 
 tion/ree,  "  whatsoever"  makes  it  full. 
 
 Anon. 
 SALVATION— Gladness  of. 
 
 Is  hope  sweet  where  despair  had  almost 
 heguu  to  reign  ?  Is  it  a  joy  to  be  eman- 
 cipated from  a  shameful  slavery,  or  set  free 
 from  a  noxious  dungeon  ?  Is  it  gladness 
 to  be  raised  as  if  by  miracle  from  a  bed  of 
 feebleness  and  suffering  to  sudden  health 
 and  instantaneous  vigour  ?  Then  what  a 
 gladness  must  salvation  be !  For,  as  there 
 is  no  earthly  misery  like  sin,  so  is  there  no 
 deliverance  like  that  with  which  Jesus 
 makes  us  free.  Words  will  not  tell  it. 
 Thought  only  can  think  it,  and  it  must  be 
 thought  out  of  an  enlightened  mind  and  a 
 burning  heart,  dwelt  on  tor  a  long,  long 
 while.  Dr.  F.  W.' Fahei: 
 
 SALVATION— Glory  and  Love  of  God  in. 
 
 In  the  salvation  of  man,  God  was  un- 
 doubtedly moved  by  love  to  man  and  his 
 own  glory.  It  is  an  imperfect  vision  that 
 sees  but  one  motive.  This  subject  may  be 
 compared  to  those  binary  stars  which  ap- 
 pear to  the  naked  eye  but  one,  yet  when 
 brought  into  the  field  of  the  telescope,  re- 
 solve themselves  into  two  shining  orbs,  that 
 roll  in  brightness  and  beauty  around  a 
 common  but  invisible  centre.  i)r.  Guthrie. 
 
 SALVATION— Greatness  of. 
 
 Of  the  various  views  we  can  take  of  this 
 blessed  work,  this  is  the  most  suitable,  to 
 consider  it  as  the  most  glorious  deliverance 
 that  ever  was  or  will  be.  Other  remark- 
 able deliverances  of  God's  people  are  con- 
 sidered as  shadows  and  figures  of  this: 
 Moses,  Joshua,  David,  and  Zerubabel,  were 
 types  of  this  great  Joshua;  according  to 
 his  name,  so  is  he,  Jksus  a  Deliverer.  The 
 number  of  the  persons  delivered,  show  the 
 glory  of  this  deliverance  to  be  unparalleled  ; 
 it  was  but  one  single  nation  that  Moses 
 delivered,  though  indeed  it  was  a  glorious 
 deliverance,  relieving  sixty  thousand  at 
 once,  and  a  great  deal  more,  but  this  was 
 incomparably  more  extensive.  The  Apostle 
 John  calls  the  multitude  of  the  redeemed, 
 a  multitude  that  no  man  could  number 
 (Hev.   vii,   9),   of   all    nations,   Idudreds. 
 
 people,  and  tongues.  Tlie  unparalleled  glory 
 of  this  deliverance  appears  not  only  in  the 
 number  of  the  delivered,  but  also  in  the 
 nature  of  the  deliverance.  It  was  not 
 men's  bodies  only  that  it  delivered,  but  im- 
 mortal souls,  more  valuable  than  the  world 
 (Matt,  xvi,  26).  It  was  not  from  such  a 
 bondage  as  that  of  Egypt,  but  one  as  far 
 beyond  it  as  eternal  misery  is  worse  than 
 temporal  bodily  toil:  so  that  nothing  can 
 equal  the  wretchedness  of  the  state  from 
 which  they  are  delivered,  but  the  blessed- 
 ness of  that  to  which  they  are  brought. 
 
 J.  Maclaurin. 
 
 SALVATION— Human  Means   Unavailing 
 
 for. 
 
 When  some  one  was  enlarging  to  Cole- 
 ridge on  the  tendency  for  good  of  some 
 scheme  which  was  expected  to  regenerate 
 the  world,  the  poet  flung  up  into  the  air 
 the  down  of  a  thistle  which  grew  by  the 
 road  side,  and  went  on  to  say,  the  tendency 
 of  that  thistle  is  towards  China;  but  I 
 know,  with  assured  certainty,  that  it  will 
 never  get  there — nay,  it  is  more  than  pro- 
 bable, that,  after  sundry  eddyings  and  gy- 
 rations up  and  down,  backwards  and  for- 
 wards, it  will  be  found  somewhere  near  the 
 place  where  it  grew.  Such  has  ever  been 
 the  issue  of  those  boasted  schemes  of  human 
 wisdom  which  have  professed  to  change 
 the  heart  of  man.  Human  nature  is  in 
 this  respect  like  the  salt  sea — all  the  rivers 
 that  run  into  it  have  not  changed  its  salt- 
 ness.  Tlie  sun  is  daily  evaporating  its 
 waters  ;  but  does  not  drink  up  one  particle 
 of  that  saline  ingredient.  If  men  will 
 drink  of  its  bitter  waters,  they  sicken  and 
 madden,  and  die.  It  is  thus  with  that 
 malignant  nature  which  we  inherit  and 
 propagate,  all  human  means  have  failed  to 
 purify  it,  and  it  stimulates  to  madness, 
 disease  and  death.  Dr.  McCosh. 
 
 SALVATION— Instantaneous.      - 
 
 God  can  do  much  work  in  a  short  time. 
 Many  are  the  examples  in  the  Acts  of  the 
 Apostles  of  God's  working  this  faith  in 
 men's  hearts,  even  like  lightning  falling 
 from  heaven.  So  in  the  same  hour  that 
 Paul  and  Silas  began  to  preach  the  gaoler 
 repented,  believed,  and  was  baptised;  as 
 were  three  thousand  by  St.  Peter  on  the 
 day  of  Pentecost,  who  all  repented  and 
 believed  on  his  first  preaching.  And, 
 blessed  be  God,  there  are  now  many  living 
 proofs  that  he  is  still  mighty  to  s;ive. 
 
 J,  Wesley. 
 
 SALVATION— Knowledge  of. 
 
 When  the  "Royal  Charter"  was  lost, 
 one  of  the  few  saved  passengers  was  asked 
 how  he  had  escaped  when  so  many  perished? 
 He  did  not  know;  he  could  not  tell;  all 
 he  could  say  in  the  matter  was  that  he  re- 
 
SALVATION. 
 
 763 
 
 membered  Low  the  irresistible  waters 
 swept  him  off  from  where  he  stood;  he 
 was  plunged  iuto  the  deep,  and  then  sud- 
 denly found  himself  cast  upon  the  shore. 
 He  was  saved  though  he  could  not  tell 
 how.  This  is  not  the  case  with  the  Gospel 
 salvation.  He  who  is  saved  from  his  sins, 
 saved  from  hell,  and  saved  into  heaven  at 
 last,  possesses  the  knowledge  of  how  he  was 
 saved  in  every  instance  and  in  every  de- 
 gree. He  knows  that  it  is  by  the  un- 
 merited mercy  of  God,  through  the  infinite 
 merit  of  the  Saviour's  blood.  He  believed 
 and  was  saved,  John  Bate. 
 
 SALVATION— Neglecting. 
 
 Most  of  the  calamities  of  life  are  caused 
 by  simple  neglect.  By  neglect  of  educa- 
 tion children  grow  up  in  iguorance;  by 
 neglect  a  farm  grows  up  to  weeds  and 
 briars ;  by  neglect  a  house  goes  to  decay ; 
 by  neglect  of  sowing  a  man  will  have  no 
 harvest;  by  neglect  of  reaping,  the  harvest 
 would  rot  in  the  fields.  No  worldly  in- 
 terest can  prosper  where  there  is  neglect ; 
 and  why  may  it  not  be  so  in  religion  ? 
 There  is  nothing  in  earthly  afiiiirs  that  is 
 valuable  that  will  not  be  ruined  if  it  is  not 
 attended  to — and  why  may  it  not  be  so 
 with  the  concerns  of  the  soul  ?  Let  no  one 
 infer,  therefore,  that  because  he  is  not  a 
 drunkard,  or  an  adulterer,  or  a  murderer, 
 that  therefore  he  will  be  saved.  Such  an 
 inference  would  he  as  irrational  as  it  would 
 be  for  a  man  to  infer  that  because  he  is 
 not  a  murderer  his  farm  will  produce  a 
 harvest ;  or  that  because  he  is  not  an  adul- 
 terer therefore  his  merchandise  will  take 
 care  of  itself.  Salvation  would  be  worth 
 nothing  if  it  cost  no  effort;  and  there  will 
 be  no  salvation  where  no  effort  is  put  forth. 
 Dr.  A.  Barnes. 
 
 Simply  "neglect  the  great  salvation" — 
 ind  you_will  make  your  everlasting  ruin 
 sure.  Many  foolish,  faithless  parents  have 
 stood  by  the  grave  of  a  child  which  they 
 dug  with  their  own  hands.  How  ?  Did 
 they  administer  slow  poison,  or  strike  an 
 assassin-knife  through  the  young  heart  ? 
 No;  but  they  killed  their  child  just  as  surely, 
 by  simple  neglect  of  the  first  laws  of  health. 
 Many  a  father,  too,  has  wruug  his  hands 
 in  agony  before  a  prison-cell  which  held  a 
 ruined  son,  or  over  the  letter  which  told 
 him  of  a  son's  disgrace,  and  on  those  very 
 hands  rested  the  guilt  of  that  boy's  ruin. 
 Why  ?  Had  they  led  that  son  into  Sab- 
 bath-breaking, or  theft,  or  profligacj'  ?  No; 
 but  they  had  let  the  youth  alone,  and  left 
 him  to  rush  into  them  unrestrained.  i\"ip^- 
 lect  was  the  boy's  ruin.  There  is  no  need 
 that  the  man  in  a  skiff  amid  Niagara's 
 rapids  should  row  towards  the  cataract ; 
 resting  on  his  oars  is  quite  enough  to  send 
 him  over  the  awful  verge. 
 
 It  is  the  neglected  wheel  that  capsizes 
 the  vehicle,  and  maims  for  life  the  passen- 
 gers. It  is  the  neglected  leak  that  sinks 
 the  ship.  It  is  the  neglected  field  that 
 yields  briars  instead  of  bread.  It  is  the 
 neglected  spark  kindling  near  the  magazine 
 wliose  tremendous  explosion  sends  its  hun- 
 dreds of  mangled  wretches  into  eternity. 
 The  neglect  of  an  officer  to  throw  up  a 
 rocket  on  a  certain  night  caused  the  fall  of 
 Antwerp,  and  postponed  the  deliverance  of 
 Holland  for  twenty  or  more  years.  The 
 neglect  of  a  sentinel  to  give  an  alarm  hin- 
 dered the  fall  of  Sebastopol,  and  resulted 
 in  the  loss  of  many  thousand  lives. 
 
 T.  Cuyler. 
 SALVATION— Power  of. 
 
 What  was  it  by  which  the  Lord  prepared 
 Edwards,  the  Wesleys,  and  Whitfield,  to 
 herald  the  blessed  Jesus  to  the  multitudes 
 with  such  simplicity  and  power  ?  Just 
 this  very  experience  of  full  salvation. 
 
 What  was  it  that  gave  Luther  power  to 
 break  his  own  Roman  fetters  and  become 
 the  champion  of  the  free  ?  Just  this  ex- 
 perience of  the  power  of  Jesus  in  him  for 
 full  salvation. 
 
 What  was  it  that  gave  the  apostles  power 
 to  come  forth  into  the  light  themselves, 
 and  shed  the  light  in  such  ettulgence  upon 
 a  benighted  world?  Christ  the  Sun  of 
 Righteousness  risen  in  their  own  souls. 
 
 W.  E.  Boardman, 
 SALVATION— Safety  of. 
 
 Men  appoint  walls  and  bulwarks  for 
 salvation,  but  God  appoints  salvation  for 
 walls  and  bulwarks.  Salvation  is  often 
 without  walls  and  bulwarks,  and  walls  and 
 bulwarks  without  salvation.  Salvation  is 
 the  safer  safeguard.  Venning, 
 
 SALVATION— SelKng. 
 
 Judas  sold  his  salvation  very  cheap,  for 
 thirty  pieces  of  silver ;  and  yet  they  that 
 paid  the  money,  paid  very  dear,  for  they 
 bought  their  own  damnation.  Ibid. 
 
 SALVATION— not  by  "Worlrs. 
 
 Observe  what  happens  when  the  cry 
 rises  at  sea — "  A  man  overboard  !"  With 
 others  on  deck  you  rush  to  the  side,  and, 
 leaning  over  the  bulwarks  with  beating 
 heart,  you  watch  the  place  where  the  rising 
 air-bells  and  boiling  deep  tell  that  he  has 
 gone  down.  After  some  moments  of  breath- 
 k'ss  anxiety  you  see  his  head  emerge  from 
 the  wave.  Now,  that  man,  I  shall  suppose 
 is  no  swimmer — he  has  never  Jearned  to 
 breast  the  billows,  yet,  with  the  first 
 breath  he  draws,  he  begins  to  beat  the 
 water ;  with  violent  efforts  he  attempts  to 
 shake  ofi"  the  grasp  of  death,  and  by  the 
 play  of  limbs  and  arms,  to  keep  his  head 
 from    sinking.      It    may   be    that    these 
 
7G4, 
 
 SALVATI02T  IN  CHRIST— SANCTIFICATION 
 
 stnigi^les  but  exhaust  his  strength,  and 
 sink  him  all  the  sooner:  nevertheless,  that 
 drowning:  one  makes  instinctive  and  con- 
 vulsive efforts  to  save  himself.  So,  when 
 first  brought  to  feel  and  cry,  "  I  perish," 
 — when  the  horrible  conviction  rushes  into 
 the  soul  that  we  are  lost,  when  we  feel 
 ourselves  goiiig  down  beneath  a  load  of 
 guilt  into  the  depth  of  the  wrath  of  God, 
 our  first  effort  is  to  save  ourselves.  Like 
 a  drowning  man,  who  will  clutch  at  straws 
 and  twigs,  we  seize  on  anything,  however 
 wnrtldess,  that  promises  salvation.  Thus, 
 alas !  many  poor  souls  toil  and  spend 
 weary  unprofitable  years  in  the  attempt  to 
 establish  a  righteousness  of  their  own,  and 
 find  in  the  deeds  of  the  law  protection 
 from  its  curse.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 SALVATION  IN  CHRIST. 
 
 Our  salvation  is  in  Christ  and  with  Him, 
 but  not  APART  from  Him.  When  a  bank 
 note  or  a  gold  coin  is  put  into  my  hands, 
 my  money  is  in  that,  not  apart  from  it. 
 When  a  deed  is  signed,  sealed,  recorded, 
 and  delivered  to  me,  my  title  is  in  my  deed, 
 and  not  apart  from  it.  My  bank  note  or 
 gold  coin  will  pay  my  debt  and  pay  my 
 journeying  expenses.  My  deed  will  ensure 
 me  my  farm.  Even  so  in  Christ  I  have 
 my  debt  cancelled,  my  journeying  support, 
 and  ray  heavenly  inheritance  all  secure. 
 
 W.  E.  Boardman. 
 
 SANCTIFICATION— Definition  of. 
 
 Sauctilicati(m  when  used  in  the  New 
 Testament  with  reference  to  persons,  is 
 being  "renewed  in  the  spirit  of  their 
 minds."  In  the  substance  of  its  import, 
 when  so  used,  it  accords  with  regeneration, 
 w  hich  is  incipient  sanctification  or  holiness, 
 the  im]>lanting  of  its  germs  or  principles 
 into  the  heart.  Sanctificatimi  is  the  grow- 
 ing establishment  and  unfolding  of  those 
 princijiles.  Ibid. 
 
 SANCTIFICATION— Nature  of. 
 
 It  is  to  be  consecrated.  Sanctifying  is 
 the  same  with  consecrating,  that  is,  setti.ig 
 apart  from  common  and  profane  to  holy 
 and  spiritual  uses,  as  persons,  places,  ves- 
 sels, times,  were  under  the  Old  Testament. 
 In  allusion  to  which,  all  true  believers  are 
 a  people  sanctified,  that  is,  set  apart  for 
 God,  separated  from  the  world  and  sin, 
 and  vanity,  to  be  the  Lord's  peculiar 
 people;  His  temple;  priests  to  Him 
 anointed  for  that  purpose  (Ps.  iv,  3). 
 
 P.  Henry. 
 SANCTIFICATION— Eetaining. 
 
 You  cannot  attend  better  to  your  sanc- 
 tification. than  by  reflecting  how  you  may 
 ijumerse  yourselves  ever  deeper  into  the 
 love  of  God,  and  bathe  more  continually 
 in  the  waves  of  His  grace. 
 
 Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 SANCTIFICATION  (Entire)  —Attaining, 
 
 You  are  all  agreed,  we  may  be  saved 
 from  all  sin  before  death.  The  substance 
 then  is  settled.  But,  as  to  the  circum- 
 stance,  is  the  chnnge  instantaneous  or 
 gradual?  It  is  both  one  and  the  other. 
 From  the  moment  we  are  justified,  there 
 may  be  a  gradual  sanctification,  or  a  grow- 
 ing in  grace,  a  daily  advance  in  the  know- 
 ledge and  love  of  God.  And  if  sin  ceased 
 before  death,  there  must,  in  the  nature  of 
 the  thing,  be  an  instantaneous  change. 
 There  must  be  a  last  moment  wherein  it 
 does  exist,  and  a  first  moment  wherein  it 
 does  not  exist.  But  should  we,  in  preach- 
 ing, insist  on  both  one  and  the  other? 
 Certainly,  we  must  insist  on  the  gradual 
 change ;  and  that  earnestly  and  continually. 
 And  are  there  not  reasons  why  we  should 
 insist  on  the  instantaneous  also  ?  If  there 
 be  such  a  blessed  change  before  death, 
 should  we  not  encourage  all  believers  to 
 expect  it?  And  the  rather  because  con- 
 stant experience  shows  the  more  earnestly 
 they  expect  this,  the  more  swiftly  and 
 steadily  does  the  gradual  work  of  God  go 
 on  in  their  souls.  The  more  watchful  they 
 are  against  all  sin,  the  more  careful  to 
 grow  in  grace,  the  more  zealous  of  good 
 works,  and  the  more  punctual  their  atten- 
 dance on  all  the  ordin:inces  of  God 
 Whereas  just  the  contrary  effects  are  ob 
 served  whenever  the  expectation  ceases. 
 They  are  saved  by  hope;  by  this  hojie  of  a 
 total  change,  saved  with  a  gradually  in- 
 creasing salvation.  Destroy  this  hope, 
 and  that  salvation  stands  still;  or  rather, 
 decreases  daily.  Therefore,  whoever  would 
 advance  the  gradual  change  in  believers 
 should  strongly  insist  upon  the  instan- 
 taneous. J.  Wesley. 
 
 SANCTIFICATION  (Entire)— not  by  Death. 
 
 1.  We  nowhere  find  the  promises  of  en- 
 tire sanctification  restricted  to  the  article 
 of  death,  either  expressly  or  in  fair  in- 
 ference from  any  passage  of  Holy  Scrip- 
 tures. 
 
 2.  We  nowhere  find  the  circumstance 
 of  the  soul's  union  with  the  body  repre- 
 sented as  a  necessary  obstacle  to  its  entire 
 sanctification. 
 
 3.  From  those  passages  of  Scripture 
 which  connect  our  entire  sanctification 
 with  subsequent  habits  and  acts  to  be  ex- 
 hibited  in  the  conduct  of  believers  before 
 death. 
 
 4.  Those  passages  which  require  us  to 
 bring  firth  those  graces  and  virtues  which 
 are  usually  called  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 
 SANCTIFICATION  (Entire)— Necessary. 
 
 Pardon  itself  would  be  worthless  with- 
 out an  entire  «itange  of  disposition;  this. 
 
SATAN. 
 
 therefore  is  the  great  object  to  he  perse- 
 veringrly  sought  after.  A  few  sighs  and 
 tears  in  the  evening  of  life  we  fondly 
 deem  will  gain  our  pardon ;  but  who  that 
 has  ever  yet  reflected,  by  the  lights  of 
 common  experience  upon  the  constitution 
 of  the  human  heart,  will  say  that  a  few 
 sighs  and  tears  will  change  the  nature? 
 Plainly,  then,  you  are  omitting  the  chief 
 element  of  this  great  revolution  in  the 
 relations  between  yon  and  God ;  infatuated 
 to  calculate  at  all  upon  a  barely  possible 
 future,  you  are  doubly  infatuated  when 
 you  leave  out  of  your  calculation  the  prin- 
 cipal item  in  the  reckoning.  The  pardon 
 will  open  the  gates  of  the  king's  palace 
 to  the  guest;  hut  those  gates  are  equally 
 open  for  his  rejection,  if  he  lack  tlie  wed- 
 ding garment.  Archer  Butler. 
 
 SATAN— as  an  Angel  of  Light. 
 
 It  is  observed  by  some  that  God  never 
 suffered  the  devil  to  assume  any  human 
 shape,  but  with  some  character  whereby 
 his  body  might  be  distinguished  from  the 
 true  body  of  a  man;  and  surely  the  devil 
 cannot  so  exactly  counterfeit  an  angel  of 
 light,  but  that,  by  a  discerning  mind,  he 
 may  be  distinguished  from  him;  as  they 
 say  a  beggar  can  never  act  a  prince  so 
 cunningly,  but  that  his  behaviour,  some- 
 times sliding  into  the  coarse  way,  and 
 principles  of  his  education,  will  betray  the 
 meanness  of  his  pedigree  to  one  of  a  truly 
 noble  extraction.  A  base  imitation  will 
 always  fall  short  of  the  copy  from  whence 
 it  is  taken ;  and  though  sin  and  error  may 
 take  up  the  mantle  of  truth,  and  clothe 
 themselves  with  it,  yet  he  that  is  inwardly 
 acquainted  with  truth,  and  an  ingenuous 
 lover  and  pursuer  of  it,  will  be  able  to 
 find  out  the  imposture;  he  will  be  able  to 
 see  through  the  veil  into  the  naked  de- 
 formity of  them.  John  Smith. 
 SATAN— Food  of. 
 
 The  raven  croaks  and  flaps  his  wings 
 above  corruption,  and  riots  in  luxury  on  the 
 carcasses  of  the  dead;  so  Satan  feeds  his 
 infernal  appetite  upon  the  corrupt  and 
 dead  souls  of  mankind.  Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 SATAN— Personality  of. 
 
 It  is  a  living  spirit  with  whom  we  have 
 to  contend — as  it  is  a  "  living  God  "  whom 
 we  have  to  aid  us.  It  is  no  abstract  law 
 or  ideal  conception  of  evil,  as  some  have 
 dared  to  theorise ;  but  a  being  personal 
 and  conscious,  and  distinctively  active,  as 
 ourselves,  though  with  faculties  immea- 
 surably beyond  us ;  a  being  profound  in 
 purpose,  subtle  in  arrangement,  bold  in 
 enterprise,  undaunted  in  execution ;  a 
 being  who  knows  us  far  better  than  we 
 know  ourselves,  and  hates  us  far  more  in- 
 tensely than  even  his  worst  inspirations 
 Lave  instigated  us  to  hate  one  another ;  a 
 
 being  whose  compass  of  possible  activity, 
 extending  through  every  region  where 
 temptation  can  extend,  seems  for  a  time 
 permitted  to  span  the  universe,  and  even 
 (if  we  may  dare  to  interpret  certain  mys- 
 terious intimations  of  Holy  Writ)  to 
 darken  by  his  occasional  presence,  for 
 some  unfathomable  purpose,  the  council 
 chamber  of  the  Omnipotent  Himself. 
 
 Archer  Butler. 
 SATAN— Promises  of. 
 
 "  I  have  read  of  King  Canute,"  says'  an 
 excellent  minister,  "  that  promised  to  make 
 him  the  highest  man  in  England  who 
 should  kill  King  Edmund  his  rival ;  which, 
 when  one  had  performed,  and  expected  his 
 reward,  he  commanded  him  to  be  hung  on 
 the  highest  tower  in  London.  So  Satan 
 pi-omises  great  things  to  people  in  pursuit 
 of  their  lusts,  but  he  puts  them  off  with 
 great  mischief.  The  promised  crown  turns 
 to  a  halter ;  the  promised  comfort  to  a 
 torment ;  the  promised  hononr  into  shame ; 
 the  promised  consolation  into  desolation  ; 
 and  the  promised  heaven  turns  into  a  hell." 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 SATAN— Snares  of. 
 
 Satan  is  busy  in  planting — 
 Snares  in  thy  substance  j  snares  attend  thy 
 
 want; 
 Snares  in  thy  credit;  snares  in  thy  disgrace; 
 Snares  in  thy  high  estate ;  snares  in  thy 
 
 base ; 
 Snares  in  thy  quiet ;  snares  in  thy  com- 
 motion; 
 Snares  in  thy  diet ;  snares  in  thy  devotion ; 
 Snares  are  above  thy  head,  and  snares  be- 
 neath ; 
 Snares  in  thy  sickness  j  snares  are  in  thy 
 death.  Quarles. 
 
 SATAN— Subtilty  of. 
 
 An  enemy  before  he  besiegeth  a  city, 
 surroundeth  it  at  a  distance  to  see  whera 
 the  wall  is  tlie  weakest,  best  to  be  battered, 
 lowest,  easiest  to  be  scaled,  ditch  narrowest 
 to  be  bridged,  shallowest  to  be  waded 
 over,  what  place  if  not  regularly  fertified, 
 where  he  may  approach  with  least  danger, 
 and  assault  with  most  advantage ;  so  Satan 
 walketh  about  surveying  all  the  powers 
 of  our  souls,  where  he  may  most  probably 
 lay  his  temptations,  as  whether  our  under- 
 standings are  easier  corrupted  with  error, 
 or  our  fancies  witli  levity,  or  our  wills  with 
 frowardness,  or  our  afl'ections  with  excess, 
 Sj)encer. 
 SATAN — Temptations  of. 
 
 The  camelion,  when  he  lies  on  the  grass 
 to  catch  flies  and  grasshoppers,  taketh 
 upon  him  the  colour  of  the  grass,  as  the 
 polypus  doth  the  colour  of  the  rock  under 
 which  he  lurketh,  that  the  fish  may  boldly 
 come  near  him  without  any  suspicion  of 
 danger. 
 
7G6 
 
 SATAN  AND  CONFESSION  OF  SIN— SCANDAL. 
 
 In  like  manner,  Satan  turnetli  liiniself 
 into  that  shape  which  we  least  fear,  and 
 sets  before  us  such  objects  of  temptation 
 as  are  most  agreeable  to  our  natures,  that 
 so  he  may  the  sooner  draw  us  into  his  net ; 
 he  sails  with  every  wind,  and  blows  us  that 
 way  which  we  incline  ourselves  through 
 the  weakness  of  nature.  Is  our  knowledge 
 in  matter  of  faith  deficient  ?  He  tempts 
 us  to  error.  Is  our  conscience  tender? 
 He  tempts  us  to  scrupulosity,  and  too 
 nnich  preciseness.  Hath  our  conscience, 
 like  the  ecliptic  line,  some  latitude  ?  He 
 tempts  us  to  carnal  liberty.  Are  we  bold 
 spirited  ?  He  tempts  us  to  presumption. 
 Are  we  timorous  and  distrustful?  He 
 tempteth  us  to  desperation.  Are  we  of  a 
 flexible  disposition?  He  tempteth  us  to 
 inconstancy.  Are  we  stiff?  He  labours 
 to  make  obstinate  heretics,  schismatics,  or 
 rebels  of  us.  Are  we  of  an  austere  temper  ? 
 He  tempteth  us  to  cruelty.  Are  we  soft 
 and  miki  ?  He  tempteth  us  to  indulgence 
 and  foolish  pity.  Are  we  hot  in  matters 
 of  religion  ?  He  tempteth  us  to  blind 
 zeal  and  superstition.  Are  we  cold  ?  He 
 tempteth  us  to  Laodiceau  lukewarmness. 
 Thus  doth  he  lay  his  traps,  that  one  way 
 or  other,  he  may  ensnare  us.  Spencer. 
 
 SATAN  AND  CONFESSION  OP  SIN. 
 
 That  old  man-slayer  knoweth  well,  that 
 as  sin  is  the  soul's  sickness,  so  confession 
 is  the  soul's  vomit,  and  that  there  is  no 
 way  to  purge  the  sick  soul  but  upwards. 
 He  therefore  holdeth  the  lips  close,  that 
 the  heart  mav  not  disburden  itself. 
 
 J.  Trapp. 
 
 SATAN  VANQUISHED. 
 
 There  is  a  story  how  the  devil  appeared 
 to  a  dying  man,  and  showed  him  a  parch- 
 ment roll,  which  was  very  long,  wherein 
 was  written  on  every  side  the  sins  of  the 
 poor  sick  man,  which  were  many  in  num- 
 ber ;  and  there  were  also  written  the  idle 
 words  he  had  spoken  in  his  life,  together 
 with  the  false  words,  the  unchaste  words, 
 and  angry  words;  afterwards  came  his 
 vain  and  ungodly  words;  and,  lastly,  his 
 actions,  digested  according  to  the  com- 
 mandments ;  whereupon  Satan  said,  "  See 
 here,  behold  thy  virtues;  see  here  what 
 thy  examination  must  be."  Whereupon 
 the  poor  sinner  answered,  "  It  is  true,  but 
 thou  hast  not  set  down  all,  for  thou 
 shouldst  have  added,  and  set  down  here 
 below,  '  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth 
 us  from  all  our  sins ;'  and  this  also  should 
 not  have  been  forgotten,  that  '  Whosoever 
 believeth  in  Him  sliall  not  perish,  but  have 
 everlasting  life.'  "  Whereupon  the  devil 
 vanished.  Thus,  if  the  devil  should  muster 
 up  our  sins,  and  set  them  in  order  before 
 us,  let  but  Christ  be  named  in  a  faithful 
 
 way,  and  he  will  give  back,  and  fly  away 
 with  all  speed. 
 
 "My  sins  are  great  I  do  confess. 
 And  of  a  scarlet  dye ; 
 But  Jesu's  blood  can  wash  me  clean. 
 As  God  does  testify."        Bogatzky. 
 
 SATISFACTION  OP  DIVINE  JUSTICE. 
 
 The  satisfaction  of  Divine  justice  by 
 the  death  of  Christ  consists  in  this — that 
 a  wise  and  gracious  provision  on  the  part 
 of  the  Father  having  been  voluntarily 
 carried  into  effect  by  the  Son,  the  just  God 
 has  determined  it  to  be  as  consistent  with 
 the  ends  of  law  and  government  to  forgive 
 all  who  have  true  "  faith  in  the  blood  of 
 Christ"  the ajjpointed propitiation  for  sin, 
 as  though  they  had  all  been  personally 
 punished  for  their  transgressions. 
 
 R.  Watson. 
 SCANDAL— Hearing. 
 
 A  man  who  takes  delight  in  hearing  the 
 faults  of  others,  shows  sufficiently  that  he 
 has  a  true  relish  of  scandal,  and  conse- 
 quently the  seeds  of  this  vice  within  him. 
 If  his  mind  is  gratified  with  hearing  the 
 reproaches  which  are  cast  on  others,  he 
 will  find  the  same  pleasure  in  relating 
 them,  and  be  the  more  apt  to  do  it,  as  he 
 will  naturally  imagine  every  one  he  con- 
 verses with  is  delighted  in  the  same 
 manner  with  himself.  Addison. 
 
 SCANDAL— Motives  to. 
 
 It  generally  takes  its  rise  either  from  an 
 ill-will  to  mankind,  a  private  inclination 
 to  make  ourselves  esteemed  an  ostentation 
 of  wit,  and  vanity  of  being  thought  in  the 
 secrets  of  the  world ;  or  from  a  desire  of 
 gratifying  any  of  these  dispositions  of 
 mind  in  those  persons  with  whom  we  con- 
 verse.  Addison. 
 
 SCANDAL— Recipe  for. 
 
 The  cultivation  of  good  nature,  follow- 
 ing after  charity,  such  as  St.  Paul  describes 
 in  1  Cor.  xiii,  and  speaking  of  others  as 
 we  would  have  them  speak  of  us,  accord- 
 ing to  the  spirit  of  the  golden  rule,  would 
 very  soon  cure  the  moral  disease  of  scandal 
 in  all  who  are  cursed  with  it.  John  Bate. 
 SCANDAL— Speaking. 
 He  that  shall  rail  against  his  absent  friends. 
 Or  hears  them  scandalis'd,  and  not  defends ; 
 Sports  with  their  fame,  and  speaks  what- 
 
 e'er  he  can. 
 And  only  to  be  thought  a  witty  man ; 
 Tells  tales  and  brings  his  friends  in  dis- 
 
 esteem ; 
 That  man's  a  knave ; — be  sure  beware  of 
 
 him.  Creech. 
 
 SCANDAL— Spread  of. 
 
 There  is  a  lust  in  man  no  charm  can  tame. 
 
 Of  loudlypublishing  his  neighbour's  shame; 
 
SCANDAL- SCHISM. 
 
 767 
 
 On  engle's  wings  immortnl  scandals  flyj 
 While  virtuous  actions  are  but  born  and 
 die.  Karvey. 
 
 SCANDAL— Untruthfulness  in. 
 
 In  every  scandal  there  is  the  warp  and 
 the  woof;  it  is  seldom  that  some  grouud 
 cannot  be  had  to  work  ui)on.  The  woof 
 may  be  a  fact  wholly  perverted,  but  upon 
 it  the  liar  may  weave  his  warp,  his  figure 
 of  detraction  and  scandal ;  and  it  comes 
 out  all  in  one  piece,  and  no  man  can  say 
 that  there  is  not  some  truth  in  it,  though 
 if  the  truth  were  picked  out,  the  lie  would 
 stand  by  itself,  a  clean  and  absolute  lie. 
 Mr.  Wilberforce  relates  an  instance  re- 
 garding himself.  He  found  himself  held 
 up  to  the  public  ridicule  in  an  unfriendly 
 journal,  the  author  of  the  slander  having 
 given  the  following  instance  of  Mr.  Wil- 
 berforce's  alleged  Pharisaism  ;  "  He  was 
 lately  seen,"  says  the  journal,  "walking 
 up  and  down  in  the  Bath  Pump-Room  " 
 (at  a  watering  place  of  great  and  fashion- 
 able resort),  "  reading  his  prayers,  like  his 
 predecessors  of  old  who  prayed  in  the 
 corner  of  streets  to  be  seen  of  men." 
 
 Mr.  Wilberforce  remarks,  "as  there  is 
 generally  some  light  circumstance  which 
 perverseness  turns  into  a  charge  of  re- 
 proach, I  began  to  reflect,  and  I  soon 
 found  the  occasion  of  the  calumny.  I  was 
 walking  in  the  pump  room  in  conversa- 
 tion with  a  friend ;  a  prayer  was  quoted 
 from  Horace,  the  accuracy  of  which  was 
 questioned;  and  as  I  had  a  Horace  in  my 
 pocket  I  took  it  out  and  read  the  words. 
 This  was  the  bit  of  wire  which  fiictious 
 malignity  sharpened  into  a  pin  to  pierce 
 my  reputation."  Dr.  Cheever. 
 
 SCEPTICISM— Modern. 
 
 I  put  you  on  your  guard  against  the 
 scepticism  of  our  time.  And  do  you  think 
 that  I  am  about  to  enlarge  upon  the  scep- 
 ticism of  Rousseau,  of  Diderot,  of  Voltaire, 
 of  Bolingbroke,  of  Hobbes,  and  of  Hume — 
 that  was  swept  away  with  their  ashes,  and 
 is  buried.  The  great  scepticisms  of  our 
 time  are  —  market  scepticism,  political 
 scepticism,  and  religious  scepticism.  Men 
 who  feel  that  it  would  be  wicked  to  sacri- 
 fice great  pecuniary  interests  for  the  sake 
 of  principle ;  men  who  think  it  would  be  a 
 tempting  of  Providence  to  refuse  profitable 
 business  speculations,  to  leave  profitable 
 situations,  or  to  refuse  dividends  of  evil ; 
 men  whose  consciences  will  not  permit 
 them,  as  the  members  of  a  corporation,  to 
 expose  its  wickedness;  men  who  stand  in 
 the  market  and  feel  that  they  have  a  right 
 to  do  anything  that  wins, — these  men  are 
 infidels.  You  need  not  tell  me  that  they 
 believe  in  the  Bible ;  they  believe  in  the 
 Bible  just  as  I  believe  in  birds'  nest  in 
 winter — nests  that  have  no  birds  in  them. 
 
 They  believe  in  an  empty  Bible — a  Bible 
 of  the  letter,  and  not  a  Bible  of  the  spirit, 
 which  says  to  a  man,  "  Sacrifice  your  right 
 band  before  you  do  your  integrity." 
 
 S.  W\  Beecher. 
 
 SCEPTICISM— Reason  for. 
 
 Those  who  would  draw  conclusions  un- 
 favorable to  Christianity  from  the  circum- 
 stances that  many  believers  have  turned 
 sceptics,  but  few  sceptics  believers,  have 
 forgotten  the  answer  of  Arcesilaus,  to  one 
 that  asked  liim  why  many  went  from  other 
 sects  to  the  Epicurians,  but  none  from  the 
 Epicurians  to  the  other  sects.  "  Because," 
 said  he,  "of  men,  some  are  made  eunuchs, 
 but  of  eunuchs  never  any  were  made  men." 
 In  matters  of  religion  it  too  often  happens 
 that  belief  goes  before  examination,  and 
 we  take  our  creed  from  our  nurse,  but  not 
 our  conviction.  If  the  intellectual  food 
 should  afterwards  rise  upon  the  stomach, 
 it  is  because  in  this  unnatural  order  of 
 things,  the  act  of  swallowing  has  preceded 
 the  ceremony  of  tasting.  C.  Colton. 
 
 SCEPTICISM— Retraction  of. 
 
 Laplace's  great  intellect  could  occupy 
 itself  during  a  lifetime  with  the  sublimest 
 truths  of  astronomy  to  no  better  purpose 
 than  to  deny  the  existenceof  the  Almighty 
 Maker  of  the  universe;  impiously  to  in- 
 sinuate that  the  supposed  useful  purposes 
 of  our  system  could  have  been  accom- 
 plished otherwise,  and  better,  than  at 
 present!  and,  finally,  to  discard  religion, 
 and  the  sanctions  which  it  derives  from  a 
 future  existence  and  its  conditions,  as  a 
 cruel  imposture  practised  upon  the  ignorant 
 credulity  of  mankind !  It  is  right,  how- 
 ever, to  state,  that  M.  Laplace,  not  long 
 before  his  death,  intimated  to  a  distin- 
 guished English  philosopher  (Professor 
 Sedgwick)  a  great  change  of  opinion. 
 Having  spoken  to  him  earnestly  on  the 
 religious  character  of  our  endowments  and 
 course  of  academical  study,  M.  Laplace 
 added :  "  I  think  this  right ;  and  on  this 
 point  I  deprecate  any  great  organic 
 changes  in  your  system :  for  I  have  lived 
 long  enough  to  know — what  at  one  time  I 
 did  not  believe — that  no  society  can  he  up- 
 held in  happiness  and  honour  witJiout  the 
 sentiments  of  religion."  This  remarkable 
 statement  is  made  on  the  authority  of 
 Professor  Sedgwick  himself,  who  says  it  is 
 in  the  very  words  of  Laplace,  "  as  nearly 
 as  I  can  translate  them." 
 
 Samuel  Warren. 
 
 SCHISM— ApplicabiUty  of. 
 
 Schism  can  have  no  place  but  among 
 the  members  of  Christ,  i-eal  or  supposed,  of 
 His  body.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with 
 the  separation  which  the  people  of  God 
 make  from  the  people  of  the  world.     A 
 
768 
 
 SCHISM- SCSISMS. 
 
 schism  among  the  people  of  God,  is,  when 
 being  divided  in  their  judgments,  and 
 alienated  in  their  affections,  they  _  are 
 separated  from  each  other,  and  divided 
 into  parties.  J-  Beaumont. 
 
 SCHISM— Causes  of. 
 
 But  we  know  of  a  Church  founded  hy 
 an  apostle,  presided  over  for  a  time  by  an 
 apostle,  which  was  full  of  schisms.  This 
 was  the  Church  of  Corinth.  (See  1  Cor. 
 first  three  chapters.) 
 
 These  scliisms  were  marked  by  "  differ- 
 ences of  mind  and  judgment  j"  and  by 
 "  envying,  strife,  and  divisions."  Its  "  Pro- 
 testantism" may,  no  doubt,  have  occasioned 
 this. 
 
 But  along  with  these,  and  partly  their 
 cause,  partly  their  effect,  there  was  a 
 warm  attachment  to  particular  ministers. 
 From  the  sameness  of  human  nature  in 
 every  age,  we  can  quite  understand  how 
 each  party  would  glory  in  the  minister 
 around  whom  it  rallied.  "  We  are  of 
 Apollos !"  some  may  have  suid.  "  We  do 
 not  admire  Peter.  He  is  too  much  of  a 
 Jew  for  us;  besides,  he  denied  his  Lurd, 
 and  dissembled  along  with  Barnabas  at 
 Antioch.  We  prefer  our  miuistei-  even  to 
 Paul.  He  is  a  much  more  eloquent  man  ; 
 of  a  much  more  commanding  figure  and 
 ajipearance  ;  and  how  profound  he  is  in  his 
 knowledge  of  tlie  Scriptures !"  "  We  are 
 of  Paul,"  cried  others  ;  "  for  he  was  chosen 
 specially  by  Christ ;  and  he  has  been  ho- 
 noured'by  Christ  more  than  all;  and  does 
 not  the  Church  of  Corinth  owe  its  very 
 existence  to  his  preaching  and  labours  ? 
 It  is  a  siiame  to  belong  to  any  other  !" 
 
 "We  cling  to  Peter!"  said  a  third 
 party;  "he  lived  with  Christ  when  He 
 was  on  earth,  saw  His  miracles,  heard  His 
 words,  was  treated  after  the  resurrection 
 with  S23ecial  love,  and  received  from  Him  a 
 special  commission  to  feed  His  sheep. 
 Apoilos  is  no  ajiostle ;  and  as  for  Paul,  he 
 persecuted  tlie  Church,  and  confesses  him- 
 self that  he  is  not  meet  to  be  called  an 
 apostle.  Apollos  is  good,  Paul  better,  but 
 Peter  is  best !"  "  We  belong  to  neither," 
 others  might  have  biasted;  "  your  divisions 
 are  so  many,  your  diilerences  so  great, 
 that  we  have  retired  from  all  your  meet- 
 ings in  weariness ;  we  are  of  Ciirist  only, 
 and  call  no  man  master  but  Him;  you 
 should  all  join  the  CAmi-ians,"  Such 
 were  some  of  the  schisms;  and  to  the 
 schismatics  Paul  said :  "  Ye  are  yet  carnal : 
 for  whereas  there  is  among  you  envying, 
 and  strife,  and  divisions,  are  ye  not  carnal, 
 and  walk  as  men  ?  For  while  one  saith,  I 
 am  of  Paul ;  and  another,  I  of  Apollos ; 
 are  ye  not  carnal  P"  Ur.  Jdacleod. 
 
 SCHISM— Cure  of. 
 
 What,  then,  was  Paul's  method  of  curing 
 
 schism,  and  of  making  men  truly  one,  who 
 had  been  "divided?" 
 
 He  directed  every  eye,  and  every  heart, 
 and  every  spirit,  to  one  object,  Jesus 
 Christ,  the  personal  Saviour,  the  centre 
 and  source  of  unity  ;  in  fellowship  with 
 whom  all  men  find  their  fellowship  with 
 each  other. 
 
 "  We  preach  Christ  crucified."  "  I  de- 
 termined not  to  know  anything  among 
 you  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  Him  crucified." 
 "  For  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay 
 than  that  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ." 
 These  are  his  declarations.  And  his  con- 
 clusion from  this  great  and  blessed  prin- 
 ciple is  just  what  we  might  expect :  "  He 
 that  glorieth,  let  him  glory  in  the  Lord." 
 "  Let  no  man  glory  in  men :  for  all  things 
 are  yours ;  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or 
 Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or 
 things  present,  or  things  to  come  •  all  are 
 yours;  and  ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is 
 God's.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 Surely  our  schisms  may  be  healed,  if 
 there  be  a  Saviour  to  heal  them  ! 
 
 Without  even  becoming  one  Church  out- 
 wardly (which  is,  compai-atively  speaking, 
 unimportant),  we  might  be  one  inwardly, 
 and  enjoy  more  of  the  blessedness  of  loving 
 and  being  loved.  We  might  in  God's  sight 
 be  better,  though  in  man's  sight  we  might 
 do  less.  If  we  are  ever  to  deliver  our 
 brother  from  evil,  correct  error  in  him, 
 and  lead  him  to  all  truth,  we  must  first 
 love  him.  In  one  word,  all  will  go  well 
 with  us,  our  schisms  will  be  healed,  our 
 envyings  cease,  our  carnal  boastings  and 
 gloryings  depart,  when  we  can  lay  down 
 self  at  the  Cross,  and  resolve,  like  Paul, 
 "  to  know  nothing  save  Jesus  Chkist,  and 
 Him  crucified." 
 
 "  Pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem :  they 
 shall  prosper  who  love  thee.  For  my 
 brethren  and  companions'  sakes,  I  will 
 now  say.  Peace  be  within  thee  !  Because 
 of  the  house  of  the  Lord  our  God,  I  will 
 seek  thy  good."  Ibid. 
 
 SCHISM— Definitions  of. 
 
 Schism  literally  signifies  a  rent,  clift, 
 fissure;  in  its  general  acceptation  it  sig- 
 nifies division  or  separation  ;  but  is  chiefly 
 used  In  speaking  of  separations  happening 
 from  diversity  of  opinions  among  people  of 
 the  same  religion  and  faith.  All  separa- 
 tions, however,  must  not,  properly  sjieak- 
 ing,  be  considered  as  schisms.        C.  Buck. 
 
 A  schism  implies  a  causeless,  or  pre- 
 sumptuous, or  hostile  separation  from  a 
 church.  IV.  L.  Thornton. 
 
 SCHISMS— Effects  of. 
 
 The  schisms  in  the  Church  of  Christ  are 
 deeply  to  be  lamented,  on  many  accounts, 
 by  those  who  have  any  regard  lor  all  that 
 
SCIENCE— SCRIPTURES. 
 
 is  raluable  and  worth  preserving  amongst 
 men  ;  and,  although  we  are  willing  to  hope 
 and  to  believe  with  Paley,  that  the  rent 
 has  not  reached  the  foundation,  yet  are 
 these  differences  (though  not  in  essentials) 
 most  particularly  to  be  lamented,  because 
 they  prevent  the  full  extension  of  the 
 glorious  light  of  the  Gospel  throughout  the 
 world.  Tliese  differences  among  ourselves 
 furnish  those  whom  we  would  attempt  to 
 convert,  with  this  plausible,  and  to  them  I 
 fear  unanswerable,  argument : — With  what 
 iace  can  you  Christians  attempt  to  make 
 us  converts  to  your  faith,  when  you  have 
 not  yet  decided  amongst  yourselves  what 
 Christianity  is  ?  Surely  it  will  be  time 
 enough  to  make  proselytes  of  others,  when 
 you  yourselves  are  agreed.  For  Calvin 
 damns  the  Pope,  and  the  Pope  damns 
 Calvin  ;  and  the  only  thing  in  which  they 
 agree, is  in  damning  Socinns;  while  Socinus, 
 in  his  turn,  laughs  at  both,  and  believes 
 neither.  C.  Colton. 
 
 SCIENCE— only  an  Agent. 
 
 We  glory  in  the  conquests  of  science, 
 but  we  look  upon  science  as  merely  an 
 agent.  Science  may  be  a  botanist,  but  who 
 started  the  vital  tluid  in  the  veins  of  the 
 herb  and  flower  ?  Science-  may  be  a  geol- 
 ogist, but  who  wrote  the  rock- covered  page, 
 v.liose  hieroglyphics  she  would  translate  ? 
 Science  may  be  an  astronomer,  but  who 
 built  the  worlds,  who  projected  the  comets, 
 whose  mysterious  paths  she  traces?  Science 
 may  be  an  agrioulturalist,  she  may  open 
 the  earth's  breast  and  cast  in  most  precious 
 seed,  but  if  the  fountains  of  dew  be  stayed, 
 science  herself  will  die  of  thirst !  Be  it 
 observed,  then,  that  science  is  an  agent, 
 not  a  cause,  and  that  while  we  rejoice  in 
 its  agency,  we  are  bound  to  acknowledge 
 the  goodness,  and  mercy  of  the  Infinite 
 INTELLIGENCE.  Dr.  J.  Parker. 
 
 SCIENCE— Godless, 
 
 Godless  science  rend  snatures  only  as 
 Milton's  daughters  did  Hebrew;  rightly 
 syllabling  the  sentences,  but  utterly  ig- 
 norant of  the  meaning,  S.  Coley. 
 
 SCIENCE  AND  THE  BIBLE. 
 
 The  thing  to  be  lamented  is,  that  the 
 moment  men  of  science  get  hold  of  a  fact 
 they  instantly  begin  to  set  it  in  opposition 
 to  God's  word.  But  the  vaunted  "  fact " 
 of  Tuesday  often  takes  another  shape  on 
 Wednesday,  and  by  Thursday  is  found  to 
 be  no  fact  at  all.  The  truth  is  that  geo- 
 logy, as  a  science,  consists  mainly  of  pro- 
 bable guesses.  "That  field  of  pent,"  says 
 Sir  Charles  Lyell,  "  has  probably  been  7000' 
 years  in  course  of  formation."  "  No,"  re- 
 plies a  friend  of  his  own,  in  a  published 
 criticism,  "  I  think  it  quite  possible  that  it 
 has  only  been  700  years  iu  growing."     A 
 
 piece  of  pottery  is  found  in  the  valley  of 
 the  Nile,  and  a  geologist  immediately 
 argues  that  it  must  have  lain  there  more 
 than  20,000  years.  But  an  antiquary  soon 
 points  out  marks  upon  it  which  show  it  to 
 be  less  than  2000  years  old.  Yet  it  is 
 upon  guesses  of  this  kind,  which  do  not 
 amount  to  a  tenth  part  of  a  proof,  that  the 
 Lyells  and  Owens  and  Colensos  venture 
 Ijoldly  to  assert  that  it  is  clear  that  Moses 
 knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  subject  on 
 which  he  was  writing.  Just  in  the  same 
 spirit  do  Bunsen  and  his  followers  unhesi- 
 tatingly assert  that  the  growth  of  lan- 
 guages proves  that  the  world  must  be  more 
 than  20,000  years  old.  We  refer  them  to 
 the  confusion  of  tongues  described  by 
 Moses,  whicrh  at  once  dissipates  their  dream. 
 "  Oh  !  but  that  was  a  miracle,"  they  reply, 
 "  and  we  have  made  up  our  minds  never  to 
 believe  a  miracle."  Very,  well,  gentlemen, 
 there  we  must  leave  you ;  for  men  who 
 make  up  their  minds  before  inquiring  are 
 not  acting  like  reasonable  beings.  A  dozen 
 other  little  juntoes  are  now  at  work  in  the 
 same  laudable  fashion.  One  set  is  not 
 quite  certain  that  man  was  "  developed  " 
 out  of  an  ape.  Well,  and  what  was  the 
 ape  "developed"  out  of?  They  do  not 
 know.  Our  comfort  in  all  this  is,  that 
 this  influenza  will  wear  itself  out  like  the 
 Tractarian,  or  like  the  infidel  fashion  of 
 the  days  of  Bolingbroke.  Men  have  been 
 striving  to  get  rid  of  the  Bible  and  its  in- 
 convenient morality  for  nearly  these  two 
 thousand  years;  but  they  were  never 
 further  off  from  their  end  than  they  are 
 at  present.  ^arl  Shaftesbury. 
 
 SCIENCES— Human. 
 
 Human  sciences  are  like  gaslights  in  the 
 streets.  They  serve  our  purpose  only  while 
 the  heavens  are  dark.  The  brighter  the 
 sky,  the  more  dim  and  useless  they  become. 
 When  noontide  floods  the  town,  they  are 
 buried  though  they  burn.  No  sooner  will 
 the  sun  of  absolute  truth  break  on  the 
 firmament  of  our  souls,  than  all  the  lights 
 of  our  poor  logic  shall  go  out.  Knowledge, 
 it  shall  vanish  away.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Adaptation  of  the. 
 
 How  marvellous  is  the  adaptation  of 
 Scripture  for  the  race  for  whom  it  was 
 revealed !  In  its  pages  every  conceivable 
 condition  of  human  experience  is  reflected 
 as  in  a  mirror.  In  its  words,  every  struggle 
 of  the  heart  can  find  appropriate  and  force- 
 ful expression.  It  is  absolutely  inexhaust- 
 ible in  its  resources  for  the  conveyance  of 
 the  deepest  feelings  of  the  soul ;  it  puts 
 music  into  the  speech  of  the  tuneless  one 
 and  rounds  the  periods  of  the  unlettered 
 into  an  eloquence  which  no  orator  can 
 rival.  It  has  martial  odes  to  brace  the 
 warrior's  courage,  and  gainful  proverbs  to 
 4U 
 
770 
 
 SCRIPT  UEES. 
 
 teach  the  merchant  wisdom :  all  mental 
 moods  can  represent  themselves  in  its 
 amplitude  of  words.  It  can  translate  the 
 doubt  of  tlie  perplexed,  it  can  articulale 
 the  cry  of  the  contrite;  it  fills  the  tongue 
 of  the  joyous  with  carols  of  thankful  glad- 
 ness, and  it  gives  sorrow  words,  lest  grief, 
 that  does  not  speak,  should  whisper  to  the 
 heart  and  bid  it  break.  Happy  we,  my 
 friends,  who  in  all  the  varieties  of  our 
 religious  life,  have  this  copious  manual 
 divinely  pi-ovided  to  our  hand. 
 
 W.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 Neither  let  ns  leave  out  of  sight,  when 
 we  are  taking  into  account  the  provision 
 which  Scripture  makes  for  nourishing  the 
 faithful  in  all  the  stages  of  their  spiritual 
 life  and  growth,  that  infinite  condescension, 
 according  to  which,  like  the  prophet  wlio 
 made  himself  small  that  he  might  stretch 
 himself  limb  for  limb  upon  the  dead  child, 
 it,  in  some  sort  contracts  itself  to  our  little- 
 ness, that  we,  in  return,  may  become  able 
 to  expand  ourselves  to  its  greatness.  We 
 see  this  gracious  condescension  in  nothing 
 more  strongly  than  in  that  teaching  by 
 parables  and  similitudes,  which  there  occu- 
 pies so  prominent  a  place. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 It  is,  as  it  is  commonly  expressed,  a  ford, 
 wherein  a  lamb  may  wade,  and  an  elephant 
 swim.  And  herein  is  the  infinite  wisdom 
 of  God  seen,  in  wreathing  together  plain 
 truths  with  obscure,  that  He  might  gain 
 the  more  credit  to  His  Word ;  by  the  one 
 instructing  the  ignorance  of  the  weakest, 
 by  the  other,  puzzling  and  confounding  the 
 understanding  of  the  wisest.  This  also  adds 
 a  beauty  and  ornament  to  the  Scriptures ; 
 as  the  beauty  of  the  world  is  set  off  by  a 
 graceful  variety  of  hills  and  valleys,  so  it  is 
 in  the  Scripture ;  there  are  sublime  truths 
 wliich  the  most  aspiring  reason  of  man 
 cannot  overtop ;  and  there  are  more  plain 
 and  easy  truths,  in  which  the  weakest 
 capacity  may  converse  with  delight  and 
 satisfaction ;  no  man  is  ollended  with  his 
 garden  for  having  a  shady  thicket  in  it ; 
 no  more  should  we  be  offended  with  the 
 word  of  God,  that  among  so  many  fair  and 
 open  walks,  we  here  and  there  meet  with 
 a  thicket,  which  the  eye  of  human  reason 
 cannot  look  through.  £p.  Hopkins. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Christ  in  the. 
 
 We  should  consider  the  Word  to  be  as  a 
 mirror  into  which  Christ  looks  down  from 
 heaven  ;  and,  then,  we  looking  into  it  see 
 His  face  rellected  as  in  a  glass — darkly,  it 
 is  true,  but  still  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  a 
 blessed  preparation  for  seeing  Him  as  we 
 shall  see  Him  face  to  face.  This  volume 
 contains  Jesus  Christ's  letters  to  ns,  per- 
 fumed by  His  love.     These  pages  are  the 
 
 garments  of  onr  King,  and  they  all  smell 
 oi  myrrh,  and  aloes,  and  cassia.  Scripture 
 is  the  golden  chariot  in  which  Jesus  rides, 
 and  it  is  paved  with  love  for  the  daugliters 
 of  Jerusalem.  The  Scriptures  are  the 
 swaddling  bands  of  the  holy  child,  Jesus, 
 unrol  them  and  you  find  your  Saviour. 
 Talk  not  to  us  of  bodies  of  divinity — the 
 only  body  of  divinity  is  the  person  oi' 
 Christ.  As  for  theology,  Christ  is  the  true 
 theology  —  the  incarnate  Word  of  God  ; 
 and  if  you  can  comprehend  Him  you  have 
 grasped  all  truth.  lie  is  made  unto  us 
 wisdom  ;  getting  Him  you  have  the  wisdom 
 of  the  Scriptures.  The  quintessence  of  the 
 Word  of  God  is  Christ.  Distil  the  book— 
 and  reach  its  essential  quality,  and  you 
 have  discovered  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
 Son  of  God,  and  the  King  of  the  Jews. 
 He  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  holy  Scrip- 
 ture. C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Difference  in  the. 
 
 While  we  fully  and  entirely  concede  that 
 "  all  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of 
 God" — that  every  sentence  of  it  has  an 
 object  and  a  significance  of  its  own  (though 
 it  may  not  be  always  apparent  to  us  what 
 that  object  and  significance  may  be) — and, 
 moreover,  that  there  is  a  living  unity  in 
 the  whole  volume,  in  virtue  of  which  we 
 justly  class  together  the  various  compo- 
 sitions in  it,  and  call  the  whole  of  them  by 
 one  name,  "The  Bible;"  we  cannot  per- 
 ceive that  every  part  of  the  Bible  should 
 be  of  equal  weight  and  importance.  The 
 human  body  is  entirely  pervaded  by  the 
 soul,  which  is  the  life  thereof;  the  ex- 
 tremities have  life  in  them,  as  well  as  the 
 great  vessels ;  and  even  those  parts  of  the 
 frame  which  are  not  endowed  with  sensi- 
 bility (like  the  hair  and  the  nails),  even 
 those,  so  long  as  animal  life  is  in  the  body, 
 have  the  principle  of  vegetable  life  abiding 
 in  them,  and  show  that  they  have  it  by 
 their  growth.  Moreover,  every  organ  and 
 member  of  the  body  has  its  function ;  no 
 part  of  it  has  Nature  made  in  vain,  thou;.;ii 
 it  be  true  indeed  that  there  are  certain 
 parts,  the  functions  of  which  have  not  as 
 yet  been  made  out  by  the  science  of  Anat- 
 omy. An  eyelash,  though  so  slight  a  thing, 
 has  a  most  important  office ;  and  the  great 
 number  of  parts,  whose  functions  are  well 
 ascertained,  makes  it  in  the  highest  degree 
 improbable  that  there  should  be  any  part 
 without  a  function.  Again,  the  unity  of 
 the  body  is  a  well-known  and  generally 
 admitted  fact,  which  has  been  made  thft 
 basis  of  many  illustrations,  both  in  Sacred 
 and  Profane  Literature. 
 
 But  while  this  is  admitted,  it  cannot  be 
 inferred  hence  that  all  parts  of  the  body 
 are  of  equal  moment  —  that  there  is  as 
 much  vitality  in  the  hair  as  in  the  veins, 
 or  that  an  operation  on  the  teeth  would  be 
 
SCRIPTURES. 
 
 771 
 
 as  critical  and  dangerous  as  the  excision  of 
 the  pound  of  flesh,  which  the  Jew  proposed 
 to  take  from  the  region  of  the  merchant's 
 heart.  Now  apply  this  illustration  to  the 
 matter  in  hand.  The  Bible  is  pervaded  hy 
 the  Spirit  of  God  in  every  part.  We  dare 
 not  say  of  a  single  text,  "  The  Spirit  of 
 God  is  absent  here."  Even  where  we  may 
 he  ignorant  what  use  it  has,  the  text  may 
 serve  the  purpose  (a  very  useful  one  surely) 
 of  humbling  us  and  teaching  us  our  own 
 ignorance.  Tiie  Bible,  moreover,  is  one 
 living,  organized  whole ;  considering  the 
 immense  variety  of  compositions  in  it — 
 their  difference  in  style,  date,  in  occasion, 
 in  authorship — there  is  a  marvellous  har- 
 mony in  its  different  parts,  as  is  attested 
 by  the  great  body  of  marginal  references 
 in  any  chapter  to  remote  books.  We  may 
 admit  all  this  decidedly,  and  yet  fall  very 
 far  short  of  saying  that  one  part  of  the 
 Bible  is  as  precious  to  us  as  another,  or 
 that  we  would  as  soon  part  with  the 
 history  of  our  Lord's  Passion,  as  with  St. 
 Paul's  message  to  Timothy  to  bring  his 
 cloak  and  his  parchments.     Dr.  Qoulburn. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Inexhaustible. 
 
 The  very  idea  of  such  a  book,  which  is 
 for  all  men,  and  for  all  the  life  of  every 
 man,  is  that  it  should  have  treasures  which 
 it  does  not  give  up  at  once,  secrets  which 
 it  yields  slowly,  and  only  to  those  that  are 
 its  intimates;  with  rich  waving  harvests 
 on  its  surface,  but  with  precious  veins  of 
 metal  hidden  far  below,  and  to  be  attained 
 only  by  search  and  labour.  Nothing  would 
 be  so  fatal  to  its  lasting  influence,  to  the 
 high  purposes  which  it  is  meant  to  serve, 
 as  for  any  to  be  able  to  feel  that  he  had 
 used  it  up,  that  he  had  worked  it  through, 
 that  henceforth  it  had  no  "  fresh "  or 
 "  pastures  new "  to  which  to  invite  him 
 to-morrow.  Even  where  this  did  not 
 utterly  repel  him,  where  he  maintained 
 the  study  of  this  book  as  a  commanded 
 duty,  his  chief  delight  and  satisfaction  in 
 the  handling  of  it  would  have  departed  ; 
 he  no  longer  would  draw  water  with  joy 
 from  these  wells  of  salvation,  for  tliey 
 would  be  to  him  fresh  fountains  no  more. 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Method  in. 
 
 This  complaint  of  the  want  of  method 
 in  Scripture,  what  is  it  in  fact  but  this, 
 that  it  is  not  dead,  but  living  ?  that  it  is 
 no  herbarium,  no  horttis  siccus,  but  a 
 garden? — a  wilderness,  if  men  choose  to 
 call  it  so ;  but  a  wilderness  of  sweets,  with 
 its  flowers  upon  their  stalks  —  its  plants 
 freshly  growing,  the  dew  upon  their  leaves, 
 the  mould  about  their  roots — with  its  lowly 
 hyssops  and  its  cedars  of  God.  And  when 
 men  say,  that  there  is  want  of  method  in 
 it,  they  would  speak  more  accurately  if 
 
 they  said  that  there  was  want  of  system  ; 
 for  the  highest  method,  even  the  method 
 of  the  Spirit,  may  reign  where  system 
 there  is  none.  Method  is  divine,  is  in- 
 separable from  the  ideas  of  God  and  of 
 order ;  but  system  is  of  man,  is  a  help  to 
 the  weakness  of  his  faculties,  is  the  arti- 
 ficial arrangement  by  which  he  brings 
 within  his  limited  ken  that  which  in  no 
 other  way  he  would  be  able  to  grasj)  as 
 a  whole.  That  there  should  be  books  of 
 systematic  theology  —  books  with  their 
 plan  and  scheme  thus  lying  on  their 
 very  surftice  and  meeting  us  at  once — 
 this  is  most  needful  ;  but  most  needful, 
 also,  that  Scripture  should  not  be  such  a 
 book.  The  dearest  interests  of  all,  of  wise 
 men  equally  as  of  women  and  children^ 
 demand  this.  Archbishop  Trench 
 
 SCRIPTURES  (Old  Testament)  —  Christ's 
 Reference  to. 
 Our  Lord  referred  to  the  Bible  as  a 
 whole — to  the  Bible  in  its  grand  divisions, 
 to  the  Bible  in  its  separate  books.  Con- 
 sidering the  small  narrative  we  have,  we 
 may  suppose  that  our  Lord's  references 
 were  much  greater.  But  here  we  have 
 distinct  references  to  Genesis,  Exodus, 
 Numbers,  Leviticus,  Deuteronomy,  Samuel, 
 the  1st  Kings,  the  2nd  Kings,  the  Psalms, 
 the  Proverbs,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel, 
 Daniel,  Hosea,  Micah,  Joel,  Zechariah,  and 
 Malachi.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Clirist,  to  whom 
 I  look  as  the  supreme  authority  in  all  re- 
 ligious matters— the  Divine  Saviour,  God 
 manifest  in  the  flesh, — used  the  Bible  as  we 
 urge  all  the  world  to  use  the  Bible.  He 
 read  it  in  private,  storing  it  in  His  memory, 
 used  it  in  His  devotions,  went  to  it  for 
 comfort  in  His  sorrows,  for  strength  under 
 temptation,  and  died  with  its  words  upon 
 His  lips.  As  a  teacher,  He  referred  to  it 
 at  the  beginning  of  His  ministry,  through- 
 out His  ministry,  up  to  the  close  of  His 
 ministry,  after  His  resurrection.  He  re- 
 ferred to  it  as  a  book  peculiar,  a  book 
 paramount,  a  book  divine.  And  therefore 
 may  I  not  be  encouraged  to  read  it,  and 
 trust  to  it  as  the  guide  of  my  life,  for 
 strength  in  my  perils,  for  comfort  in  my 
 sorrows  ?  If  good  enough  for  the  Master, 
 is  it  not  good  enough  for  the  servant  ? 
 
 ^\  UalL 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Personality  of  the. 
 
 The  position  before  us  is,  that  we  our- 
 selves, and  such  as  we,  are  the  very  persons 
 whom  Scrijiture  speaks  of,  and  to  whom,  as 
 men,  in  every  variety  of  persuasive  form,  it 
 makes  its  condescending,  though  celestial 
 appeal.  The  point  worthy  of  observation 
 is,  to  note  how  a  book  of  the  description, 
 and  the  compass  which  we  have  represented 
 Scripture  to  be,  possesses  this  versatility 
 of  power ;  this  eye,  like  that  of  a  portrait, 
 
772 
 
 SCPvIPTUEES. 
 
 uniformly  fixed,  upon  us,  turn  lohere  we 
 will.  Miller. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Properties  of  the. 
 
 The  properties  of  Scriptures  may  be 
 summarily  enumerated  as  follows: — 1.  All 
 of  it  is  clear  and  intelligible  enough  to 
 persons  who  sincerely  desire  to  contbim 
 the  heart  and  life  accordingly.  2.  The 
 Word  of  God  is  found  to  be  of  special 
 ettect  upon  the  heart  for  conviction,  con- 
 version, instruction,  and  comfort  iu  all  ages 
 and  nations  ;  and  hereby  evinces — 3.  its 
 Divine  authority  ;  whence  it  follows — 4- 
 That  it  is  the  standard  for  determining 
 every  controversy  in  matters  of  foith.  5. 
 It  is  perfect,  as  containing  whatever  is 
 necessary  to  be  known  and  believed  in 
 order  to  salvation.  6.  It  is  also  profitable, 
 as  containing  nothing  irrelevant  or  useless. 
 7.  The  providence  of  God  has  watched  over 
 it,  so  that  it  retains  its  purity  unsullied, 
 and  can  be  enjoyed  now,  as  it  ever  could 
 be  from  the  beginning.  Bengel. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Search  the. 
 
 The  full  and  thorough  knowledge  of  any- 
 thing is  only  got  by  searching.  There  is 
 a  ship  at  sea;  a  heavy  fog  has  come  onj 
 there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  all  round  about, 
 the  very  stars  are  shut  out  of  view,  and  no 
 longer  serve  to  guide  the  vessel's  course ; 
 and  as  the  man  at  the  mast-head  hoarsely 
 cries  out,  "  Breakers  ahead !"  and  the  crew 
 furl  the  sails,  and  the  helmsman  turns  the 
 wheel,  what  is  the  captain  about,  old  sailor 
 as  he  is,  now  poring  over  his  charts,  and 
 now  glancing  at  the  compass,  and  now 
 loudly  giving  his  orders  ?  What  can  he 
 mean  by  looking  so  often  and  so  eagerly 
 at  that'map-looking  thing  of  his?  That 
 is  his  chart  by  which  his  course  is  guided, 
 and  he  is  searching  it  to  find  where  he  is, 
 and  how  he  may  steer  his  ship  in  safety — 
 to  keep  clear  of  a  rock  here,  and  a  shallow 
 there,  and  make  a  good  passage  through 
 the  channel,  and  save  his  crew  and  his 
 cargo,  and  at  length  gain  the  harbour.  So 
 says  the  great  teacher,  "  Search  the  Scrip- 
 tures." J.  R.  WiUon. 
 
 SCRIPTURES- Silence  of  the. 
 
 It  was  said  by  one  wise  and  good  man  of 
 another — by  Baxter  of  Judge  Hale — that 
 more  might  be  learned  from  his  questions 
 than  from  another  man's  answers.  With 
 yet  higher  truth  might  it  be  said  that  the 
 silence  of  Scripture  is  oftentimes  more  in- 
 structive than  the  speech  of  other  books ; 
 so  that  it  has  been  likened  to  a  "  dial  in 
 which  the  shadow  as  well  as  the  light  in- 
 forms us."  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— not  for  the  Slothful. 
 
 Holy  Scripture  is  not  a  book  for  the 
 slothlul:   it  is  not  a  book  which  can  be 
 
 interpreted  without,  and  apart  from,  and 
 by  the  deuiers  of,  that  Holy  Spirit  by  whom 
 it  came.  Rather  is  it  a  field,  upon  the 
 surface  of  which,  if  sometimes  we  gather 
 manna  easily  and  without  labour,  and 
 given,  as  it  were,  freely  to  our  hands,  yet 
 of  which  also,  many  portions  are  to  be  cul- 
 tivated with  pains  and  toil,  ere  they  will 
 yield  food  for  the  use  of  man.  This  bread 
 of  life  also  is  to  be  often  eaten  in  the 
 wholesome  sweat  of  our  brow. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Study  of  the. 
 
 God  has  not  made  the  Scriptures  like  an 
 artificial  garden,  wherein  the  walks  are 
 plain  and  regular,  the  plants  sorted  and 
 set  in  order,  the  fruits  ripe  and  flowers 
 blown,  and  all  things  fully  exposed  to  our 
 view  ;  but  rather  like  an  uncultivated  lield, 
 where,  indeed,  we  have  the  ground  and 
 hidden  seeds  of  all  precious  things,  but 
 nothing  can  be  brought  to  any  great 
 beauty,  order,  fulness,  or  maiurity,  with- 
 out our  industry — nor  indeed  with  it,  un- 
 less the  dew  of  His  grace  descend  upon 
 it,  without  whose  blessing  this  spiritual 
 culture  will  thrive  as  little  as  the  labour 
 of  the  husbandman  without  showers  of 
 rain.  Ibid. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Sublimity  of  the. 
 
 All  other  sciences  are  but  poor  and  beg- 
 garly element",  if  compared  with  this. 
 What  doth  the  naturalist,  but  oidy  busy 
 himself  in  digging  a  little  drossy  know- 
 ledge out  of  the  entrails  of  the  earth  ?  the 
 astronomer  who  ascends  highest,  mounts 
 no  higher  than  the  celestial  bodies,  the 
 stars  and  planets ;  which  are  but  the  out- 
 works of  heaven.  But  the  Scripture 
 pijrceth  much  farther,  and  lets  us  into 
 heaven  itself:  there  it  discovers  the  ma- 
 jesty»nd  the  glory  of  God  upon  His  throne, 
 the  Eternal  Son  of  God  sitting  at  His  riglit 
 hand  making  a  prevailing  and  authorita- 
 tive intercession  for  us,  the  glittering  train 
 of  cherubims  and  seraphims,  an  innume- 
 rable company  of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of 
 just  men  made  perfect;  so  that,  indeed, 
 when  you  have  this  book  laid  open  before 
 you,  you  have  heaven  itself,  and  all  the  in- 
 conceivable glories  of  it  laid  open  to  your 
 view.  Bp.  Sopkins. 
 
 SCRIPTURES— Writers  of  the. 
 
 The  rhetorical  and  poetical  beauties  of 
 Scripture  are  not  merely  incidental.  Its 
 authors  wrote,  not  for  glory  or  display,  not 
 to  astonish  nor  amaze  their  brethren,  lut 
 to  instruct  them,  and  make  them  better. 
 They  wrote  for  God's  glory,  not  their  own ; 
 they  wrote  for  the  world's  advantage,  not 
 to  aggrandise  themselves.  Demosthenes 
 composed  his  most  splendid  oration  in 
 order  to  win  the  crown  of  eloquence;  and 
 
SECEET— SELF. 
 
 773 
 
 the  most  elaborate  effort  of  ancient  oratory 
 — the  panegyric  to  whifh  Isocrates  devoted 
 fifteen  years — was  just  an  essay  written 
 for  a  in-he.  How  diS'erent  the  circum- 
 stances in  which  the  speech  on  Mars'  Hill 
 was  spoken,  and  the  farewell  sermon  in  the 
 upper  chamber  at  Troas.  Herodotus  and 
 Thucydides  composed  their  histories  with 
 a  view  to  popular  applause;  and  Pindar's 
 fiery  pulse  beat  faster  in  prospect  of  the 
 great  Olympic  gathering,  and  the  praises 
 of  assembled  Greece.  How  opposite  the 
 circumstances  in  which  the  seer  of  Horeb 
 penned  his  faithful  story,  and  Isaiah  and 
 Jeremiah  poured  forth  their  fearless  de- 
 nunciations of  popular  sins.  The  most 
 superb  of  modern  historians  confesses  the 
 flutter  which  he  felt  when  the  last  line  of 
 his  task  was  written,  and  he  thought  that 
 perhaps  his  fame  was  established.  A  more 
 important  history  concludes:  "  These  things 
 are  written  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus 
 is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God ;  and  that 
 believing,  ye  might  have  life  through  His 
 name."  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 SECEET— Intrusting  a. 
 
 You  should  be  careful  not  to  intrust 
 another  unnecessarily  with  a  secret  which 
 it  may  be  a  hard  matter  for  him  to  keep, 
 and  which  may  expose  him  to  somebody's 
 displeasure  when  it  is  hereafter  discovered 
 that  he  was  the  object  of  your  confidence. 
 Your  desire  tor  aid  or  for  sympathy  is  not 
 to  be  indulged  by  dragging  other  people 
 into  your  misfortunes.  There  is  as  much 
 responsibility  in  imparting  your  own 
 sei'rets,  as  in  keeping  those  of  your  neigh- 
 bour. Barley. 
 
 Trust  not  him  with  your  secrets  who, 
 when  left  alone  in  your  room,  turns  over 
 your  papers.  Lavater. 
 
 SECEET— Keeping  a.  ' 
 
 To  those  who  cannot  keep  a  secret,  we 
 commend  an  anecdote  of  Charles  II  of  Eng- 
 land, which  ought  to  be  engraved  upon  the 
 heart  of  every  man.  When  importuned  to 
 communicate  something  of  a  private  nature, 
 the  subtle  monarch  said,  "Can  you  keep 
 a  secret  ?"  "  Most  faithfully,"  returned 
 the  nobleman.  "  So  can  I,"  was  the  la- 
 conic and  severe  answer  of  the  king. 
 
 S.  a.  Goodrich. 
 
 Be  thou  assured,   if  words  be  made  of 
 
 breath. 
 And    breath   of   life,   I  have  no   life  to 
 
 breathe 
 What  thou  hasfc  said  to  me. 
 
 Shakesjpeare. 
 SECEETS— Coveting. 
 
 None  are  so  fond  of  secrets  as  those  who 
 do  not  mean  to  keep  them ;  such  persons  I 
 
 covet  secrets,  as  a  spendthrift  co\'ets  money 
 — for  the  purpose  of  circulation.     C.  Collon. 
 
 SECEETS— Disclosing. 
 
 To  disclose  a  friend's  secrets,  though  it 
 be  not  treason,  it  is  treachery,  it  is  most 
 unchristian ;  a  word  may  be  spoken  iu 
 secret,  which,  when  it  is  trumpeted  out, 
 may  occasion  quarrels  or  law-suits.  He 
 that  cannot  keep  a  matter  committed  to 
 him,  is  like  a  vessel  that  runs  out,  or  a  sick 
 stomach  that  cannot  keep  meat,  but  brings 
 it  up  again.  He  that  publisheth  his  friend's 
 secrets  doth  publish  his  own  shame. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 SECULAEISTS— Blunder  of. 
 
 Those  persons  make  a  great  blunder 
 who,  under  the  name  of  Secularists,  pro- 
 pose, as  their  distinguishing  characteristic, 
 to  attend  to  the  present  life,  and  ignore 
 the  next.  Their  philosophy  is  grievously 
 at  fault  as  well  as  their  religion,  when  they 
 pioponnd  the  maxim  that  our  business  is 
 with  the  duties  of  the  condition  in  which 
 we  are,  and  not  with  speculations  regard- 
 ing the  condition  in  which  we  may  possi- 
 bly be.  You  cannot  let  the  next  world 
 alone ;  it  will  not  let  you  alone.  From 
 within  the  veil  it  stretches  out  its  line  and 
 grasps  us.  We  are  so  constituted  that  we 
 cannot  shake  oft'  that  grasp.  You  might 
 as  well  say,  we  shall  live  on  the  fruits  of 
 the  earth,  and  have  no  relations  with  the 
 air  of  heaven,  as  say  we  shall  confine  our 
 view  to  time,  and  have  nothing  to  do  with 
 eternity.  In  point  of  fact,  as  all  history 
 declares,  false  views  of  a  future  life  exercise 
 a  preponderating  influence  on  the  present 
 conduct  of  the  majority  of  mankind.  You 
 cannot  discharge  from  the  human  mind  all 
 conceptions  and  expectations  about  a  fu- 
 ture life,  and  so  leave  it  empty.  You  miglit 
 as  well  projiose  to  make  a  universal  vacuum 
 round  the  globe  by  means  of  an  air-pump. 
 Conceptions  of  the  future,  practically 
 powerful  on  the  present,  there  must  and 
 will  be  in  the  minds  of  men;  the  only 
 question  open  is,  whether  they  shall  be 
 true  or  liaise.  Arnot. 
 
 SELF. 
 
 Flesh  is  the  anagram  of  self;  and  iu 
 Scripture  'tis  all  one  to  walk  after  the  fiesh 
 and  to  seek  one's  self:  if,  then,  men  walk 
 after  the  flesh,  they  shall  die;  for  every 
 man's  perdition  is  of  Inmself.         Venning. 
 
 SELF— Deliverance  from. 
 
 When  that  idle  self  is  no  longer  main- 
 tained within  us  at  the  dear  expense  of  our 
 peace,  comfort,  safety,  and  eternal  hope — 
 an  idol  that  engrossed  the  whole  substance 
 of  our  souls,  that  exhausted  and  devoured 
 the  strength  and  vigour  of  our  spirits, 
 which  it  doth  not  maintain  and  cannot 
 
774 
 
 SELF— SELF-CONFIDENCE. 
 
 repair,  which  consumes  our  time,  which 
 keeps  all  our  faculties  and  powers  in  a 
 continual  exercise  and  hurry,  to  make  a 
 costly,  a  vain,  an  unlawful  provision  for  it. 
 How  great  is  the  ease  and  pleasure  which 
 we  feel  in  being  delivered  from  that  soul- 
 wasting  monster,  that  was  fed  and  sus- 
 tained at  a  dearer  rate,  and  with  more 
 costly  sacrifices  and  repasts  than  can  be 
 paralleled  by  either  sacred  or  other  history ; 
 that  hath  made  more  desolation  in  tlie 
 souls  of  men  than  ever  was  made  in  their 
 towns  and  cities,  where  idols  were  served 
 only  by  human  sacrifices,  or  monstrous 
 creatures  satiated  with  only  such  refec- 
 tion J  or  where  the  lives  and  safety  of  the 
 most  were  to  be  bought  out  by  the  con- 
 stant successive  tribute  of  the  blood  of 
 not  a  few :  that  hath  devoured  more,  and 
 preyed  more  cruelly  upun  human  lives, 
 than  Moloch  or  Minotaur.  When  this 
 monstrous  idol  is  destroyed  and  trodden 
 down,  what  a  jubilee  doth  it  make  !  what 
 Fongs  of  triumph  and  praise  doth  it  furnish 
 and  supply  to  the  poor  soul,  now  delivered 
 and  redeemed  from  death  and  bondage  ! 
 
 John  Rowe. 
 SELF— God  more  than. 
 
 A  saint  cares  not  how  ill  it  goes  with 
 him  so  it  go  well  with  Jesus  Christ ;  he 
 saith,  as  Mephiboshetb  to  David  (2  Sam. 
 xix,  30),  Yea  let  him  take  all;  inasmuch 
 as  my  lord  the  king  is  come  again  in  peace 
 unto  his  house.  So  it  may  go  well  with 
 God's  name,  Moses  cares  not  though  his 
 be  blotted  out  of  the  book  of  life ;  and  said 
 John,  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  de- 
 crease ;  this  my  joy,  therefore,  is  fulfilled. 
 
 Venning. 
 SELF— Slaves  to. 
 
 Alexander  could  conquer  the  legions  of 
 Persia,  but  he  could  not  conquer  his  pas- 
 sions. Ca;sar  triumphed  in  a  hundred 
 battles,  but  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  desire 
 of  being  a  king.  Bonaparte  vanquished 
 nearly  the  whole  of  Europe,  but  he  could 
 not  vanquish  his  own  ambition.  And  iu 
 humbler  life,  nearer  home,  in  our  own 
 every  day  affairs,  most  of  us  are  drawn 
 aside  from  the  path  of  duty  and  discretion, 
 because  we  do  not  resist  some  temptation 
 or  overcome  some  prejudice. 
 
 S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 SELF— Victory  over. 
 
 A  man  that  is  born  a  conqueror  over  his 
 own  corruptions,  and  over  himself,  he  is 
 greater  than  ever  was  the  greatest  con- 
 queror; and  it  is  better  to  be  made  in  this 
 kind  a  victor  over  his  own  passions,  than 
 to  be  universal  emperor  of  all  the  world. 
 Saith  Seneca,  there  are  many  men  tliat 
 have  subdued  principalities,  -  kingdoms, 
 cities,  towns,  and  countries,  and  brou-ht 
 them  under  their  own  umsLery ;  but  there 
 
 are  few  that  have  guided  themselves,  but 
 still  there  is  a  tiger  within  them,  that  dis- 
 graceth  and  obscureth  their  outward  con- 
 quest by  reason  of  foul  seethings,  and  cor- 
 ruption in  their  own  flesh ;  therefore,  for 
 a  man  to  get  the  victory,  and  to  overcome 
 himself,  is  to  get  the  victory,  and  to  over- 
 come all  the  world;  for  man  is  a  micrO' 
 cosm,  a  little  world,  as  St.  Austin  saith. 
 
 Dat/. 
 SELF-COMMAND. 
 
 The  command  of  one's  self  is  the  greatest 
 empire  a  man  can  aspire  unto,  and,  conse- 
 quently, to  be  subject  to  our  passions  the 
 most  grievous  slavery ;  neither  is  there  any 
 triumph  more  glorious  than  that  of  the 
 victory  obtained  of  our  selves,  where, 
 whilst  the  conflict  is  so  short,  the  reward 
 shall  ever  last.  Drexelius, 
 
 SELF-COMPLACENCE. 
 
 Self-complacence,  that  is,  greatly  de- 
 lighting in  one's  self,  or  in  the  goods 
 which  he  fancieth  himself  to  enjoy,  or  in 
 the  works  which  he  performeth;  when 
 men  in  contemplation  of  their  works  and 
 achievements  go  strutting  about,  and 
 saying,  with  that  vain  prince,  "  Is  not  thij 
 great  Babylon  that  I  have  built  ?"  when, 
 reflecting  on  their  possessions,  they  ap- 
 plaud and  bless  themselves,  like  the  rich 
 man  in  the  Gospel ;  "  Soul."  saith  he, 
 looking  upon  his  accumulated  store, 
 "  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  \\\)  for  many 
 years."  JJr.  Barrow. 
 
 SELF-CONCEIT. 
 
 None  are  so  seldom  found  alone,  and 
 are  so  soon  tired  of  their  own  company  as 
 those  coxcombs  who  are  on  the  best  terms 
 with  themselves.  C.  Colton. 
 
 SELF-CONDEMNATION— in  Another. 
 
 We  many  times  condemn  others  and 
 therein  pass  sentence  against  ourselves : 
 thus  Judah  said  of  Tamar,  Bring  her 
 forth  and  let  her  be  burnt,  not  considering 
 that  he  spake  the  word  against  his  own 
 soul.  Thus  David  to  Nathan,  The  man 
 that  hath  done  this  thing  shall  die,  not 
 considering  that  he  was  the  man. 
 
 Yenning. 
 SELF-CONFIDENCE. 
 
 When  men,  beyond  reason,  and  without 
 regard  unto  God's  providence,  do  rely 
 upon  themselves  and  their  own  abilities, 
 imagining  that,  without  God's  direction 
 and  help,  by  the  contrivances  of  their  own 
 wit  and  discretion,  by  the  prevalency  of 
 their  own  strength  and  courage,  by  their 
 industrious  care,  resolution  and  activity, 
 they  can  compass  any  design,  they  can 
 attain  any  good,  they  can  arrive  at  the 
 utmost  of  their  desires,  and  become  suf- 
 
SELP-CONSEQUENCE— SELF-DENIAI. 
 
 775 
 
 ficiently  happy — then  do   they  manifest, 
 Belt-confidence.  Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 SELF-CONSEQUENCE. 
 
 Beware  of  too  sublime  a  sense 
 Of  your  own  worth  and  consequence. 
 The  man  who  dreams  himself  so  fireat, 
 And  his  importance  of  such  weight, 
 That  all  around  in  all  tl]at's  done 
 Must  move  and  act  for  him  alone, 
 Will  learn  in  school  of  tribulation, 
 The  folly  of  his  expectation.        Cowper. 
 
 SELF-CONTKOL— Importance  of. 
 
 If  a  person  mounts  a  high-spirited  horse 
 it  is  important  that  he  should  be  able  to 
 control  him,  otherwise  he  may  be  dashed 
 in  pieces.  If  an  engineer  undertakes  to 
 conduct  a  locomotive,  it  is  necessary  that 
 he  should  be  able  to  guide  or  check  the 
 panting  engine  at  his  pleasure,  else  his 
 own  life  and  the  lives  of  others  may  be 
 sacrificed.  But  it  is  still  more  indispensable 
 that  an  individual,  who  is  entrusted  with 
 the  care  of  himself,  should  be  able  to 
 govern  himself.  S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 SELF-CULTURE. 
 
 A  shop-boj'  with  a  fixed  and  genuine 
 aspiration  after  knowledge  will  scarcely 
 fail  to  find  education.  The  power  to  act 
 nobly  and  effectively  may  exist  with  little 
 book  knowledge.  To  know  living  men,  to 
 liave  sat  long  under  the  stern  but  thorough 
 teaching  of  experience,  to  have  a  sympathy 
 open  to  the  unnumbered  influences  of  ex- 
 haustless  and  ever  healthful  nature,  may 
 set  a  man  above  those  who  have  studied 
 all  things  at  second  hand,  as  seen  through 
 other  eyes  and  represented  by  feeble 
 human  speech.  P.  Bayne. 
 
 SELF-DECEPTION. 
 
 Many  destroy  themselves  by  false  lights, 
 who  being  wedded  to  their  own  opinions, 
 and  adoring  the  chimeras  of  their  spirit, 
 think  themselves  full  of  knowledge,  just, 
 and  happy ;  that  the  sun  riseth  only  for 
 them,  and  that  all  the  rest  of  the  world  is 
 in  darkness;  they  conceive  that  they  have 
 the  fairest  stars  for  coiiductors  ;  but  at  the 
 end  of  their  career  they  find  (too  late)  that 
 th's  pretended  life  was  but  an  ignis  fatuus, 
 which  led  them  to  a  precipice  of  eternal 
 flames.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 SELF-DENIAL— Christian. 
 
 The  good  Christian  is  not  one  who  has 
 no  inclination  to  sin  (for  we  have  all  the 
 seed  of  sin  in  us),  but  one  who,  being  sen- 
 sible of  such  inclinations,  denieth  them 
 continually,  and  suflereth  them  not  to 
 grow  into  evil  actions.  Every  day  deny 
 yoin-self  some  satisfaction  —  your  eyes, 
 objects  of  mere  curiosity ;  your  tongue, 
 everything  that  may  feed  vanity,  enmity;  I 
 
 palate,  dainties;  the  ears,  flattery,  and 
 whatever  corrupts  the  heart;  the  body, 
 ease,  and  luxury,  bearing  all  the  incon- 
 veniences of  life  (for  the  love  of  God),  cold, 
 hunger,  restless  nights,  ill-health,  un- 
 welcome news,  the  fault  of  servants,  con- 
 tempt, ingratitude  of  friends,  malice  of 
 enemies,  calumnies,  our  own  failings, 
 lowness  of  spirit,  the  struggle  in  over- 
 coming our  corruptions,  bearing  all  these 
 with  patience  and  resignation  to  the  will 
 of  God.  Do  all  this,  as  unto  God,  with 
 the  greatest  privacy.  All  ways  are  in- 
 different to  one  who  has  heaven  in  his  eye, 
 as  a  traveller  does  not  choose  the  pleasant- 
 est  but  the  shortest  and  safest  way  to  his 
 journey's  cud,  and  that  is  the  way  of  the 
 cross,  which  Jesus  Christ  made  choice  of, 
 and  sanctified  it  to  all  His  followers. 
 
 Bishop  T.  Wilson. 
 
 Self-denial-  Nature  and  Reasons  of. 
 
 But  what  is  self-denial  ?  Wherein  are 
 we  to  deny  ourselves  ?  And  whence  does 
 the  necessity  of  this  arise  ?  I  answer — 
 the  will  of  God  is  the  supreme,  unalterable 
 rule  for  every  intelligent  creature ;  equally 
 binding  every  angel  in  heaven,  and  every 
 man  upon  earth.  Nor  can  it  be  otherwise; 
 this  is  the  natural,  necessary  result  of  the 
 relation  between  creatures  and  their 
 Creator.  But  if  the  will  of  God  be  our 
 one  rule  of  action,  in  everything,  great 
 and  small,  it  follows,  by  undeniable  con- 
 sequence, that  we  are  not  to  do  our  own 
 will  in  anything.  Here,  therefore,  we  see 
 at  once  the  nature,  with  the  ground  and 
 reason,  of  self-denial.  It  is  the  den,>ing 
 or  refusing  to  follow  our  own  will,  from  a 
 conviction  that  the  will  of  God  is  the  only 
 rule  of  action  to  us.  And  we  see  the 
 reason  thereof,  because  we  are  creatures; 
 because  "  it  is  He  that  hath  made  us,  and 
 not  we  ourselves." 
 
 This  reason  for  self-denial  must  hold 
 even  with  regard  to  the  angels  of  God  in 
 heaven;  and  with  regard  to  man,  innocent 
 and  holy  as  he  came  out  of  the  hands  of 
 his  Creator.  But  a  farther  reason  for  it 
 arises  from  the  condition  in  which  all  men 
 are  since  the  fall.  We  are  all  now  "  shajien 
 in  wickedness,  and  in  sin  did  our  mother 
 conceive  us."  Our  nature  is  altogether 
 corrupt,  in  every  power  and  faculty.  And 
 our  will,  depraved  equally  with  the  rest, 
 is  wholly  bent  to  indulge  our  natural  cor- 
 ruption. On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  will 
 of  God  that  we  resist  and  counteract  that 
 corruption,  not  at  some  times  or  in  some 
 things  only,  but  at  all  times  and  in  all 
 things.  Here,  therefore,  is  a  farther 
 ground  for  constant  and  universal  self- 
 deinal. 
 
 To  illustrate  this  a  little  further.  The 
 will  of  God  is  a  path  leading  straight  to 
 God.     The  will  of  man,  wnich  once  nm 
 
11Q 
 
 SELF-DENIAL— SELF-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 pnrallel  with  it,  is  now  another  path,  not 
 oiily  (lill'erent  from  it,  but  in  our  present 
 stiite,  directly  contrary  to  it :  it  leads  from 
 God.  If,  tlierefore,  we  walk  in  the  one, 
 we  must  necessarily  quit  the  other.  We 
 cannot  walk  in  both.  Indeed,  a  man  of 
 faint  heart  and  feeble  hands  may  go  in 
 two  ways,  one  after  the  other.  But  he 
 cannot  walk  in  two  ways  at  the  same  time, 
 follow  his  own  will,  and  follow  the  will  of 
 God:  he  must  choose  the  one  or  the 
 other;  denying  God's  will  to  follow  his 
 own;  or  denying  himself  to  follow  the 
 will  of  God. 
 
 Now,  it  is  undoubtedly  pleasing  for  the 
 time  to  follow  our  own  will,  by  indulging, 
 in  any  instance  that  offers,  the  corruption 
 of  our  nature.  But  by  following  it  in  any 
 thing,  we  so  far  strengthen  the  perverse- 
 ness  of  our  will ;  and,  by  indulging  it,  we 
 continually  increase  the  corruption  of  our 
 nature.  So  by  the  food  v/hich  is  agree- 
 able to  the  palate,  we  often  increase  a 
 bodily  disease.  It  gratifies  the  taste,  but 
 it  inflames  the  disorder.  It  brings  pleasure, 
 but  it  also  brings  death. 
 
 Gn  the  whole,  then,  to  deny  ourselves 
 Is  to  deny  our  own  will  where  it  does  not 
 lall  into  the  will  of  God,  and  that  however 
 pleasing  it  may  be.  It  is  to  deny  ourselves 
 any  pleasure  which  does  not  spring  from, 
 and  lead  to  God :  that  is,  in  etiect,  to  re- 
 fuse going  out  of  our  way,  though  it  may 
 be  into  a  pleasant,  flowery  path  ;  to  refuse 
 what  we  know  to  be  deadly  poison,  though 
 agreeable  to  the  taste.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 SELF-DENIAL— Practice  of. 
 
 Panting  after  perfe<:tion,  he  (Dr.  Jud- 
 son)  strove  to  subdue  every  sinful  habit 
 and  senseward  tendency.  Finding  that 
 for  want  of  funds  the  Mission  was  languish- 
 ing, he  cast  into  the  treasury  his  patri- 
 monial estate.  Finding  that  his  nicety 
 and  love  of  neatness  interfered  with  his 
 labours  among  the  filthy  Karens,  he  sought 
 to  vanquish  this  rejjugnance  by  nursing 
 those  sick  of  most  loathsome  diseases. 
 Finding  that  his  youthful  love  of  fame  was 
 not  utterly  extinguished,  he  threw  into 
 the  fire  his  correspondence,  including  a 
 letter  of  thanks  he  had  received  from  the 
 Governor-General  of  India,  and  every  docu- 
 ment which  might  contribute  to  his  post- 
 humous renown.  And  finding  that  his 
 soul  still  clave  unto  the  earth,  he  took 
 temporary  leave  of  all  his  friends,  and 
 retired  into  a  hut  on  the  edge  of  the 
 jungle,  and,  subsisting  on  a  little  rice,  for 
 several  weeks  he  gave  himself  entirely  to 
 communion  with  God.      Dr.  T.  Hamilton. 
 
 SELF-DENIAL— for  Religion. 
 
 A  gentleman  in  Paris,  who  had  been 
 educated  in  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  be- 
 came heir  to  a  very  large  fortune,  which 
 
 was  left  by  an  uncle,  who  also  belonged  to 
 the  Roman  church.  Soon  after  this  he  be- 
 came a  Christian  in  consequence  of  reading 
 a  New  Testament,  and  considered  it  his 
 duty  to  join  the  Protestant  Christians  iu 
 Paris;  but  he  tliought  within  himself  had 
 his  uncle  known  that  he  would  be  con- 
 verted to  the  Christian  faith  he  would  not 
 have  left  him  his  money.  "  Very  well," 
 said  he,  "I  must  h;ind  over  that  money 
 again  to  my  uncle's  family,  and  remain  the 
 faithful  believer  of  the  pure  doctrines  of 
 Christianity."  F.  Martin. 
 
 SELF-DEPENDENCE. 
 
 I  lately  happened  to  notice,  with  some 
 surprise,  an  ivy,  which,  finding  nothing  to 
 cling  to  beyond  a  certain  point,  had  shot 
 off  into  a  bold  elastic  stem,  with  an  air  of 
 as  much  independence  as  any  branch  of 
 oak  in  the  vicinity.  So  a  human  being 
 thrown,  whether  by  cruelty,  justice,  or 
 accident,  from  all  social  support  and  kind- 
 ness, if  he  have  any  vigour  of  spirit,  and 
 be  not  in  the  bodily  debility  of  either 
 childhood  or  age,  will  begin  to  act  for  him- 
 self with  a  resolution  which  will  appear 
 like  a  new  faculty.  J.  Foster. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION— Nature  of. 
 
 Sum  up  at  night  what  thou  hast  done  by 
 
 day ; 
 And  in  the  morning,  what  thou  hast  to  do. 
 Dress  and   undress   thy  soul ;    mark   the 
 
 decay  [too 
 
 And  growth  of  it ;  if  with  thy  watch,  that 
 Be  down,  then  wind  up  both.     Since  we 
 
 shall  be 
 Most   surely  judged,  make   thy  accounts 
 
 agree.  Herbert. 
 
 SELF-EXAMINATION— Wisdom  of. 
 
 'Tis  greatly   wise  to  talk   with    our    past 
 
 hours,  [heaven. 
 
 And  ask  them  what  report  they  bore  to 
 And  how  they  might  have  borne  more  wel- 
 
 come  news.  I'ouiiff. 
 
 SELF-FREEDOM. 
 
 In  the  midst  of  events  which  seem  to 
 bespeak  predestination,  man  still  feels  that 
 he  is  free.  The  planets  wheel  through  the 
 heavens;  the  eaith  revolves  on  its  axis, 
 and  performs  its  vast  annual  circuit ;  the 
 seasons  come  and  go ;  the  clouds  rise  and 
 vanish ;  the  rain,  the  hail,  and  the  snow 
 descend ;  and  in  all  this  man  has  no  voice. 
 There  is  a  system  of  government  above, 
 beyond,  and  around  him,  declaring  a 
 sovereignty  which  takes  no  counsel  of 
 him.  But  still,  in  the  midst  of  all  this, 
 man  possesses  a  consciousness  of  freedom. 
 S.  G.  Goodrich. 
 
 SELF-GOVERNMENT— Nobility  of. 
 
 In  the  little  world  within    the  breast 
 
SELF-HATEE— SELF-LOVE. 
 
 777 
 
 there  are  stntinns  of  rank,  dominion,  au- 
 tliority,  to  which  we  iiiay  aspire,  or  from 
 which  we  may  fall.  There  is  an  inward 
 slavery,  haser  than  any  bodily  servitude ; 
 there  is  an  inward  rule  and  governance  of 
 a  man's  spirit,  an  object  of  loftier  am- 
 bition far  than  the  possession  of  any 
 earthly  crown  or  sceptre.  For  self- 
 government  is  indeed  the  noblest  rule  on 
 earth.  The  highest  sovereignty  is  that  of 
 the  man  who  can  say,  "  He  hath  made  us 
 kings  unto  God."  The  truest  conquest  is 
 where  the  soul  is  "bringing  every  thought 
 into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of  Christ." 
 The  monarch  of  his  own  mind  is  the  only 
 real  potentate.  Caird. 
 
 SELF-HATER. 
 
 None  can  more  truly  hate  himself  than 
 he  who  loves  himself  with  such  a  pernicious 
 love,  as  becoming  by  it  wholly  dissolved  in 
 voluptuousnej^s,  he  is  neither  able  to  ob- 
 tain :inything  of  himself,  or  to  deny  himself 
 anything.  Drexelius. 
 
 SELF-IGNORANCE. 
 
 Man,  who  busies  himself  in  knowing  all 
 things  else,  is  of  nothing  more  ignorant 
 than  of  himself.  The  eye,  which  beholds 
 otlier  things,  cannot  see  its  own  shape ; 
 and,  so,  the  soul  of  man,  whereby  he 
 understands  other  objects,  is  usually  ig- 
 norant of  its  own  concernments.  Now,  as 
 the  eye  which  cannot  see  itself  directly, 
 may  see  itself  refiexively  in  a  glass,  so 
 God  hath  given  us  His  Scripture,  which 
 St.  James  compares  to  a  glass  (James  i,  23), 
 and  liolds  this  before  tlie  soul,  wherein  is 
 represented  our  true  state  and  idea. 
 
 Bp.  Sop  Jc  ins. 
 
 SELF-INSPECTION— Overstrained. 
 
 By  undue  and  overstrained  self-inspection 
 the  mind  is  apt  to  become  morbid  and  de- 
 pressed, and  to  breed  scruples,  which  tease 
 and  harass  without  producing  any  real 
 fruit.  The  man  becomes  a  valetudinarian 
 in  religion,  full  of  himself,  his  symptoms, 
 his  ailments,  the  delicacy  of  his  moral 
 health ;  and  valetudinarians  are  always  a 
 plague,  not  only  to  themselves,  but  to 
 everybody  connected  with  them. 
 
 Dr.  Goulhurn. 
 SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 
 
 Some  persons  no  sooner  get  into  a  diffi- 
 culty or  quarrel,  than  they  immediately 
 begin  to  give  their  version  of  the  affair  to 
 other  parties,  and  commence  a  discourse  of 
 self-justification.  They  may  effect  their 
 object  with  the  thoughtless  and  weak- 
 rninded;  but  with  all  wise  and  sound- 
 judging  persons,  they  will  create  strong 
 suspicions  of  guilt.  Innocence  can  afford 
 to  be  silent  and  leave  her  cause  with  them 
 that   know   her    most.     Guilt   cannot   be 
 
 quiet;  but  must  make  a  great  bluster 
 with  a  view  to  wipe  out  its  reproaches 
 from  conscience,  and  to  allay  the  fears 
 which  it  suspects  in  the  minds  of  others 
 concerning  it.  John  Bate. 
 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE— Definition  of. 
 
 Self-knowledge  is  that  acquaintance  with 
 ourselves,  which  shows  us  what  we  are,  and 
 do,  and  ought  to  be,  in  order  to  our  living 
 comfortably  and  usefully  here,  and  happily 
 hereafter.  J.  Mason. 
 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE- Importance  of. 
 
 Knoio  tliyself  is  one  of  the  most  useful 
 and  comprehensive  precepts  in  the  whole 
 moral  system ;  and  it  is  well  known  in 
 bow  great  a  veneration  this  maxim  was 
 held  by  the  ancients ;  and  in  how  high 
 esteem  the  duty  of  self-examination  is 
 necessary  to  it.  Thales,  the  Milesian,  the 
 prince  of  the  philosopherSj  who  flourished 
 about  A.  M.  3.>30,  and  was  contemporary 
 with  Josiah  king  of  Judah,  is  said  to  be 
 the  first  author  of  it ;  who  used  to  say, 
 that  "  for  a  man  to  know  himself  is  the 
 hardest  thing  in  the  world  "  (see  Stanley's 
 '  Life  of  Thales ').  It  was  afterwards 
 adopted  by  Chylon,  the  Lacedemonian ; 
 and  is  one  of  those  three  precepts  which 
 Pliny  affirms  to  have  been  consecrated  at 
 Delphos  iu  golden  letters.  It  was  after- 
 wards greatly  admired,  and  frequently 
 adopted  by  others,  till  at  length  it  acquired 
 the  authority  of  a  divine  oracle,  and  was 
 supposed  to  have  been  given  originally  by 
 Apollo  himself.  Of  which  general  opinion 
 Cicero  gives  us  this  reason ;  "  because  it 
 hath  such  a  weight  of  sense  and  wisdom 
 in  it,  as  appears  too  great  to  be  attributed 
 to  any  man."  And  this  opinion,  of  its 
 coming  originally  from  Apollo  himself, 
 perhaps  was  the  reason  that  it  was  written 
 in  golden  capitals  over  the  door  of  his 
 temple  at  Delijhos.  Ihid. 
 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE-Means  of. 
 
 The  means  of  it  is  self-examination;  the 
 end  of  it  is  self-government  and  self-enjoy- 
 ment. It  principally  consists  in  the  know- 
 ledge of  our  souls,  which  is  attained  by  a 
 particular  attention  to  their  various  powers, 
 capacities,  passions,  inclinations,  operations, 
 state,  happiness,  and  temper.  For  a  man's 
 soul  is  properly  himself  (Matt,  xvi,  26, 
 comi>ared  with  Luke  ix,  25).  The  body  is 
 but  the  house  ;  the  soul  is  the  tenant  that 
 inhabits  it ;  the  body  is  the  instrument ; 
 the  soul  the  artist  that  direct  it. 
 
 Ihii. 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE— Way  to. 
 
 Learn  God,  thou  shalt  know  thyself. 
 
 Tupper. 
 SELF-LOVE— Origin  of. 
 
 By  the  entrance  of  sin  into  the  world. 
 
■78 
 
 SELF-PEAI3E— SELF-SLAVES. 
 
 man  was  deprived  of  tlie  love  of  liis 
 Creator ;  and  his  soul,  which  was  still 
 great,  and  still  capable  even  of  an  infinite 
 passion,  retaininj^  only  the  latter,  this  im- 
 mediately diffused  itself,  and  overflowed 
 all  the  mighty  space  which  had  been 
 evacuated  by  the  love  of  God.  And  thus 
 we  came  to  love  only  ourselves,  and  to  love 
 ourselves  infinitely;  that  is,  to  love  all 
 things  with  respect  only  to  ourselves. 
 
 I'ascal. 
 SELF-PRAISE— Success  of. 
 
 Self-praise  occasionally  succeeds  with  ig- 
 norant and  credulous  persons;  very  seldom 
 with  those  who  have  much  knowledge  of 
 the  world.  He  who  can  make  a  discerning 
 mind  think  more  highly  of  him  for  what 
 he  says  of  liimself.  must,  without  douht.be 
 a  person  of  unusual  ability  and  address. 
 He  must  deserve  all  the  praise  he  bestows 
 on  himself,  for  successful  self-praise  is  the 
 last  triumph  of  genius,  G.  W.  Hervey. 
 
 SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS— Definition  of. 
 
 Self-righteousness,  that  is,  no  righteous- 
 ness at  all — a  righteousness  in  its  own  eyes, 
 which  can  never  be  a  righteousness  in  the 
 eyes  of  God — a  righteousness  in  which  the 
 impure  are  to  purify  the  impure,  and  the 
 unjust  to  justify  the  unjust.  Mare. 
 
 SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS— Unavailing. 
 
 What  is  all  righteousness  that  men  de- 
 vise? 
 
 What,  but  a  sordid  bargain  for  the  skies  ? 
 
 But  Christ  as  soon  would  abdicate  His  own, 
 
 As  stoop  from  heaven  to  sell  the  proud  a 
 throne.  Cowper. 
 
 SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS— Unsatisfying. 
 
 No  man  can  quench  his  thirst  with 
 sand,  or  with  water  from  the  Dead  Sea ; 
 so  no  man  can  find  rest  from  his  own  cha- 
 racter, however  good,  or  from  his  own  acts, 
 however  religious.  Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS— Vanity  of. 
 
 Phidias,  the  great  sculptor,  was  em- 
 ployed by  the  Athenians  to  make  a  statue 
 of  the  goddess  Diana,  and  he  succeeded  so 
 well  as  to  produce  a  chef-d'oeuvre.  But 
 the  artist  became  enamoured  of  his  own 
 work,  and  was  so  anxious  that  his  name 
 should  go  down  to  posterity  that  he  secretly 
 engraved  his  name  in  one  of  the  folds  of 
 the  drapery;  which,  when  the  Athenians 
 discovered,  they  indignantly  banished  the 
 man  who  had  polluted  the  sanctity  of  their 
 goddess.  So  would  self-righteous  sinners 
 act  with  the  pure,  spotless  robe  of  Hiin 
 who  knew  no  sin.     Let  them  beware. 
 
 O.  S.  Boioes. 
 SELF-SACRIFICE— Nature  of. 
 
 Sclf-sacrjtice  for  its  own  sake  is  no  reli- 
 
 gious act  at  all.     If  you  give  up  a  meal 
 
 for  the  sake  of  showing  power  over  self, 
 or  for  the  sake  of  self-discipline,  it  is  the 
 most  miserable  of  all  delusions.  You  are 
 not  more  religious  in  doing  this  than  be- 
 fore. This  is  mere  self-culture,  and  self- 
 culture  being  occupied  for  ever  about  self, 
 leaves  you  only  in  that  circle  of  self  from 
 which  religion  is  to  free  you;  but  to  give 
 up  a  meal  that  one  you  love  may  have  it, 
 is  properly  a  religious  act — no  hard  and 
 dismal  duty,  because  made  easy  by  af- 
 fection. To  bear  pain  for  the  sake  of 
 bearing  it,  has  in  it  no  moral  qualities  at 
 all,  but  to  bear  it  rather  than  to  surrender 
 truth,  or  in  order  to  save  another  is  posi- 
 tive enjoyment,  as  well  as  ennobling  to  the 
 soul.  Did  you  ever  receive  even  a  blow 
 meant  for  another,  in  order  to  shield  that 
 other  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  there  was 
 actual  pleasure  in  the  keen  pain  far  beyond 
 the  most  ra])turous  thrill  of  nerve  which 
 could  be  gained  from  pleasure  in  the  midst 
 of  painfulness  ?  Is  not  the  mystic  yearn- 
 ing of  love  expressed  in  words  most  purely 
 thus.  Let  me  sufi"er  for  him  ? 
 
 This  element  of  love  is  that  which  makes 
 this  doctrine  an  intelligible  and  blessed 
 truth.  So  sacrifice  alone,  bare  and  unre- 
 lieved, is  ghastly,  unnatural,  and  dead; 
 but  self-sacrifice  illuminated  by  love,  is 
 warmth  and  life  ;  it  is  the  death  of  Christ, 
 the  life  of  God,  the  blessedness  and  only 
 proper  life  of  man. 
 
 F.  W.  Holer 'son. 
 SELF-SLAVES. 
 
 There  have  been  men  who  could  disci- 
 pline and  control  armed  legions  in  the  most 
 perilous  encounters,  but  who  never  learnt 
 the  art  of  self-control.  They  knew  nothing 
 of  fear  in  the  most  deadly  strifes,  when  the 
 slain  around  them  were  numbered  by  thou- 
 sands, but  they  have  cowardly  shrunk  from 
 the  contest  with  self.  They  have  man- 
 fully fought  for  the  liberties  and  honour  of 
 their  country,  but  they  have  been  the 
 meanest  slaves  in  the  inner  world  of  the 
 heart.  Hosts  of  vile  passions,  like  ghastly 
 spectres,  peopled  their  souls,  and  they  have 
 never  dared  to  look  them  in  the  face  or  to 
 take  one  of  them  as  a  prisoner  of  war.  In- 
 stead of  dragging  them  to  the  altar  and 
 slaying  them  like  deadly  foes  before  the 
 Lord,  they  have  succumbed  to  them  ;  nay, 
 more,  treacherous  to  their  highest  and  best 
 interests,  they  have  cherished  and  fostered 
 them.  Bold  as  they  may  have  been  else- 
 where, they  proved  themselves  too  craven- 
 hearted  to  assault  these  internal  enemies 
 or  to  chase  them  away  from  the  field  of 
 the  heart.  It  is  a  lamentable  fact,  never- 
 theless a  feet,  that  some  of  earth's  greatest 
 heroes  have  been  the  basest  moral  cow-ards. 
 As  the  reward  of  their  victories  they  have 
 been  adorned   with  robes  of  office,  their 
 
SELF-WILL— SENSATION. 
 
 770 
 
 breasts  have  been  declied  with  stars,  and 
 made  to  flash  with  gems.  And  well  they 
 might,  for  beneath  that  glittering  robe 
 was  a  heart  stained  with  foulest  blots  and 
 infamous  crimes.  The  gems,  in  many 
 cases  were  all  outside.  Not  a  single  star 
 of  virtue  studded  the  heart  or  beautified 
 the  soul.  Within,  like  their  own  field  of 
 carnage,  was  full  of  dead  men's  bones, 
 moral  putrefaction  and  death. 
 
 E.  Roberts. 
 SELF-WILL— Character  of. 
 
 Self-will  is  the  prince  of  death  and  dark- 
 ness, which  is  at  continual  enmity  with 
 heaven ;  and  the  filthiness  and  poison  of  the 
 serpent.  This  is  the  seed  of  the  evil  spirit 
 which  is  perpetually  at  enmity  with  the 
 seed  of  God  and  the  heaven-born  nature; 
 its  design  and  scope  is,  with  a  giant-like 
 pride,  to  climb  up  into  the  throne  of  the 
 Almighty,  and  to  establish  an  unbounded 
 tyranny  in  contradiction  to  the  will  of 
 God,  wliich  is  nothing  else  but  the  issue 
 and  efilux  of  His  eternal  and  unbounded 
 goodness.  John  Smith. 
 
 SELF-WILL— Fruits  of. 
 
 It  is  only  when  a  man  will  not  enter 
 into  his  Father's  counsels ;  toill  not  sutler 
 the  highest  tastes  to  develop  themselves, 
 and  the  higher  appetites  to  indulge  their 
 cravings  with  the  bread  of  God  ;  will  grovel 
 when  God  gives  him  wings  to  soar ;  will  go 
 on  the  belly  snake-like  when  God  lifts  him 
 and  his  front  face  to  face  with  heaven ; 
 will  clamour  for  flesh  when  the  bread  of 
 God  is  in  his  very  hand;  it  is  only  then, 
 when  the  evil  becomes  deadly,  and  deepens 
 into  spiritual  sin  of  the  darkest  dye  and 
 most  incurable  malignity,  tliat  God  stays 
 His  hand,  and  closes  His  witness,  with- 
 draws His  guardian  angel,  and  leaves  the 
 will  to  itself.  J.  B.  Brown. 
 
 SELF-WILL— Idolatry. 
 
 He  that  will  not  submit  himself  to,  nor 
 comply  with,  the  eternal  and  uncreated 
 will,  but,  instead  of  it,  endeavours  to  set 
 up  his  own  will,  makes  himself  the  most 
 real  idol  in  the  world,  and  exalts  himself 
 against  all  that  is  called  God,  and  ought 
 to  be  worshipped.  To  worship  a  graven 
 image,  or  to  make  cakes  and  burn  incense 
 to  the  queen  of  heaven,  is  not  a  worse 
 idolatry  than  it  is  for  a  man  to  set  up  self- 
 will,  to  devote  himself  to  the  serving  of  it, 
 and  to  give  up  himself  to  a  compliance 
 with  his  own  will,  as  contrary  to  the  Divine 
 and  Eternal  Will.  John  Smith. 
 
 SELF-WILL— Power  over. 
 
 A  true  Christian  that  hath  power  over 
 his  own  will,  may  live  nobly  and  happily, 
 and  enjoy  a  dear  heaven  within  the  seren- 
 ity of  his  mind  perpetually.     When  the  sea 
 
 of  this  world  is  most  rough  and  tempes. 
 tuous  about  him,  then  he  can  ride  safely  to 
 anchor  within  the  haven,  by  a  sweet  com- 
 pliance of  his  will  with  God's  will 
 
 Like  a  strong  man  keeping  his  house,  he 
 preserves  his  goods  in  safety ;  and  when 
 God  calls  for  him  out  of  this  state  of  mor- 
 tality, he  finds  in  liimself  a  power  to  lay 
 down  his  own  life,  neither  is  it  so  much 
 taken  from  him,  as  quietly  and  freely  sur- 
 rendered up  by  him.  John  Smith. 
 
 SELF-WILL— Spring  of  Evil. 
 
 This  is  the  true  source  and  spring  of  all 
 that  envy,  malice,  bitterness  of  spirit, 
 malcontentedness  and  impatience,  of  all 
 those  black  and  dark  passions,  those  inor- 
 dinate desirey  and  lusts,  that  reign  in  the 
 hearts  and  lives  of  wicked  men. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 SELFISH-MAN— Description  of  the. 
 Look  at  the  selfish  man  !  see  how  he  locks 
 Tight   in   his    arms    his    mortgages   and 
 
 stocks ! 
 While   deeds   and  titles   in  his  hand  he 
 
 grasps,  [clasps. 
 
 And  gold  and  silver  close  around  him 
 But    not    content   with   this,   behind    he 
 
 drags 
 A  cart  well  laden  with  the  pondrous  bags; 
 The   orphans'   wailings  and   the  widow's 
 
 woe, 
 From  mercy's  fountain  cause  no  tears  to 
 
 flow : 
 He  pours  no  cordial  in  the  wounds  of  pain  ; 
 Unlocks  no  prison,  and  unclasps  no  chain  ; 
 His  heart  is  like  the  rock  where  sun  nor 
 
 dew 
 Can  rear  one  plant  or  flower  of  heavenly 
 
 hue. 
 No  thought  of  mercy  there  may  have  its 
 
 birth. 
 For  helpless  misery  or  suffering  worth ; 
 The  end  of  all  his  life  is  paltry  pelf. 
 And   all   his  thoughts  are   centred  on — 
 
 himself; 
 The  wretch  of  both  worlds;  for  so  mean 
 
 a  sum, 
 "  First  starved  in  this,  then  damned  in  that 
 
 to  come."  W.  Holmes. 
 
 SELFISHNESS  AND  BENEFICENCE. 
 
 The  ant  is  a  type  of  selfishness  in  that  it 
 works  purely  for  itself;  the  bee  is  a  type 
 of  beneficence,  because  it  works  for  the 
 good  of  others.  Christians,  like  the  bee, 
 should  direct  their  labours  for  tiie  good  of 
 the  public  and  the  glory  of  Christ,  then 
 shall  they  be  rewarded  in  themselves  with 
 the  honey  of  lieaven's  blessing,  and  be  the 
 means  of  giving  to  others  the  honey  oi  the 
 Gospel.  John  Bate. 
 
 SENSATION— Highest. 
 
 The  higliest  pleasure  of  sensation  comes 
 
780 
 
 SENSE— SERMOl^S. 
 
 through  tho  eve.  She  ranlcs  above  all  the 
 rest  of  t!ie  senses  in  dignity.  He  whose 
 eye  is  so  refined  by  discipline  that  he  can 
 repose  with  pleasure  upon  the  serene  out- 
 line of  beautiful  form,  has  reached  the 
 purest  of  the  sensational  raptures. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 SEJJ'SE— Carnal. 
 
 I  have  read  of  a  glass  kept  in  an  idol 
 temple  in  Smyrna,  that  would  make  beau- 
 tiful things  appear  deformed,  and  de- 
 formed things  appear  beautiful;  carnal 
 sense  is  such  a  glass  to  wicked  men,  it 
 makes  heavenly  things  which  are  beauti- 
 ful to  appear  deformed,  and  earthly  things 
 which  are  deformed  to  appear  beautiful. 
 
 Venning. 
 SENSES— Doors  for  Sin. 
 
 The  senses  are  the  cinque-ports  by  which 
 sin  is  let  out  and  taken  in.  The  ingress 
 and  egress  of  sin  is  by  the  senses,  and 
 much  of  our  danger  lieth  there,  partly  be- 
 cause there  are  so  many  objects  that  suit 
 with  our  distempers,  that  do  by  them  in- 
 sinuate themselves  into  the  soul,  and  there- 
 fore things  long  since  seemingly  dead  will 
 soon  revive  again  and  recover  life  and 
 strength.  Manton. 
 
 SENSIBILITIES— Developed. 
 
 Blackthorn  shows  its  blossoms  before  its 
 leaves.  Analogy :  sensibilities  developed 
 before  reason  is  sufficiently  expanded  to 
 protect  them.  J.  Foster. 
 
 SENSIBILITIES  —Fine. 
 
 Fine  sensibilities  are  like  woodbines,  de- 
 lightful luxuries  of  beauty  to  twine  round 
 a  solid,  upright  stem  of  understanding ;  but 
 very  poor  things,  if,  unsustained  by  strength, 
 they  are  lefb  to  creep  along  the  ground. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 SENSUALIST,  VOLUPTUAEY,  EPICURE. 
 
 The  sensualist  lives  for  the  indulgence  of 
 his  senses,  the  voluptuary,  from  voluntas, 
 pleasure,  is  devoted  to  his  pleasures,  and 
 as  far  as  these  pleasures  are  the  pleasures 
 of  sense,  the  voluptuary  is  a  sensualist : 
 the  ejyioure,  from  epicurus,  is  one  who 
 makes  the  pleasures  of  sense  his  god,  and 
 in  this  sense  he  is  a  sensualist  and  a  volup- 
 tuary. In  the  application  of  these  terms, 
 however,  the  sensualist  is  one  who  is  a  slave 
 to  the  grossest  appetites;  thevoliiptuari/\s 
 one  who  studies  his  pleasures  so  as  to  make 
 them  the  most  valuable  to  himself;  the 
 epicure  is  a  species  of  voluptuary  who 
 practices  more  than  ordinary  refinement 
 in  the  choice  of  his  pleasures.      O.  Cralb. 
 
 SENSUALITY— Sordid. 
 
 Sordid  and  infamous  sensuality,  the 
 most  dreadful  evil  that  issued  from  the 
 box  of  Pandora,  corrupts  every  heart,  and 
 
 eradicates  every   virtue.     Fly!   wherefore 
 dost  thou  linger  ?     Fly,  cast  not  one  look 
 behind    thee ;  nor    let    even  thy  thought 
 return  to  the  accursed  evil  for  a  moment. 
 Fenelon. 
 
 SENTIMENTALISM— Definition  of. 
 
 What  we  mean  by  sentimentalism  is 
 that  state  in  which  a  man  speaks  deep  and 
 true,  not  because  he  feels  them  strongly,  but 
 because  he  perceives  that  they  are  beauti- 
 ful, and  that  it  is  touching  and  fine  to  say 
 them — things  which  he  fain  would  feel, 
 and  fancies  that  he  does  feel. 
 
 F.  W.  Rolertson. 
 SERMON— Best. 
 
 He  is  the  best  artist  that  can  most  livelily 
 and  powerfully  display  Jesus  Christ  before 
 the  people,  evidently  setting  Him  forth  as 
 crucified  among  tliem  :  and  that  is  the  best 
 sermon  that  is  most  full  of  Christ,  not  of 
 art  and  language.  J.  Flavel. 
 
 SERMON— WeU-Studied. 
 
 Once,  when  in  Boston,  during  the 
 latter  part  of  his  life,  Dr.  West  was  in- 
 vited by  Dr.  Clarke,  of  the  first  Church,  to 
 preach  for  him.  About  an  hour  before  the 
 services  were  to  commence.  Father  West 
 requested  his  friend  to  give  him  a  text. 
 At  this  Dr.  Clarke  was  alarmed,  and  asked 
 if  it  were  possible  that  he  was  going  to 
 preach  without  notes  and  with  no  other 
 preparation.  "Come,  come,"  said  Father 
 West,  "  it  is  my  way,  give  me  a  text."  Dr. 
 Clarke  selected  Romans  xiv,  22  :  "  Wliat 
 if  God,  willing  to  show  His  wrath,  and 
 make  His  power  known,  endured  with 
 long-suffering  the  vessels  of  wrath  fitted 
 to  destruction."  Di\  West  looked  over  the 
 Bible  a  few  minutes,  turning  down  leaves 
 here  and  there,  and  then  went  into  the 
 church,  where  he  preached  a  cogent,  logical 
 discourse,  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes 
 long,  on  that  perplexing  subject.  The 
 strong  men  of  the  congregation  were  in- 
 tensely interested,  and  Dr.  Clarke,  on 
 coming  from  the  pulpit,  exclaimed,  "  Why 
 Father  West,  it  would  have  taken  me 
 three  months  to  prepare  such  a  discourse." 
 "  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  I  have 
 been  studying  it  out  twenty  years." 
 
 Dr.  Sprague. 
 SERMONS— Long. 
 
 There  is  nothing  against  which  a 
 preacher  should  be  more  guarded  than 
 length.  "  Nothing,"  says  Lamont,  "  can 
 justify  a  long  sermon.  If  it  be  a  good  one, 
 it  need  not  be  long  ;  and  if  it  be  a  bad  one, 
 it  ought  not  to  be  long."  Luther,  in  the 
 enumeration  of  nine  qualities  of  a  good 
 preacher,  gives  as  the  sixth,  "That  he 
 should  know  when  to  stop."  Boyle  has  an 
 essay  on  patience  under  long  preaching. 
 This  was  never  more   wanted   since   the 
 
SERMOITS— SERVANTS. 
 
 781 
 
 Commonwealth  tlian  now,  in  our  own  day, 
 especially  among  our  young  divines  and 
 academics,  who  seem  to  think  that  their 
 pertormances  can  never  he  too  much 
 attended  to.  I  never  err  this  way  myself 
 hut  my  conviction  always  laments  it ;  and 
 for  many  years  after  I  hegan  preaching, 
 I  never  offended  in  this  way.  I  never 
 exceeded  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  at 
 most.  I  saw  one  excellency  was  witliin 
 my  reach — it  was  brevity,  and  I  deter- 
 mined to  obtain  it.  TF.  Jay. 
 
 SEEMOIiS— Making. 
 
 Whilst  Thomas  Shepherd,  a  contempo- 
 rary of  Jonathan  Edwards,  was  on  his  dy- 
 ing bed,  several  young  ministers  came  to 
 ste  him.  He  looked  at  them  with  great 
 interest  and  solemnity  and  uttered  these 
 •weighty  words;  "  Your  work  is  great,  and 
 calls  for  great  seriousness.  As  to  myself, 
 I  can  say  three  things — that  the  study  of 
 every  sermon  cost  me  tears  ;  that  before  I 
 preached  a  sermon  I  got  good  by  it  my- 
 self j  and  that  I  always  went  up  into  the 
 pulpit  as  if  I  were  to  give  my  account  to 
 my  Mabter."  J.  Q.  Wilson. 
 
 SERMONS— Preaching  Printed. 
 
 Bishop  Burnet,  at  one  of  his  visitations, 
 M'hen  the  name  of  a  very  old  clergyman 
 wa>  called  over  (of  whom  a  private  com- 
 pla  nt  had  been  made  that  the  parish  could 
 n'  t  endure  liim,  he  gave  such  bad  sermons), 
 g!  avely  chided  the  poor  parson :  "  I  am 
 told,  Mr.  — ,  that  your  parish  is  very  well 
 satisfied  with  you  in  many  respects ;  but 
 they  are  much  discontented  with  your  ser- 
 mons. Now,  theie  is  no  excuse  for  this; 
 for,  instead  of  preaching  extempore,  as  I  am 
 told  you  sometimes  do,  or  giving  them  your 
 own  compositions,  you  have  only  to  preach 
 good  printed  sermons,  and  they  will  have 
 no  cause  to  complain."  "  May  it  please 
 your  lordship,"  replied  the  clergyman, 
 "  you  have  been  wholly  misinformed.  I 
 have  long  been  in  the  habit  of  preaching 
 printed  sermons,  and  those  I  have  preferred 
 are  your  lordshii^'s."  Anon. 
 
 SEHMONS— Writing. 
 
 Henry  Melvill  is  the  most  popular 
 preacher  in  London.  He  prepares  and 
 preaches  but  one  sermon  in  a  week, 
 wliich  he  always  writes  twice,  very  often 
 three  times.  Professor  Park,  in  his  elo- 
 quent memoir  of  the  late  Mr.  Homer,  com- 
 municates the  following  facts  : — "  The 
 editor  of  Massllon's  Lent  Sermons  regards 
 it  as  a  prodigy  that  he  finished  a  discourse 
 in  so  short  a  time  as  ten  or  t  elve  days. 
 This  eminent  preacher  sometimes  rewrote  a 
 single  sermon  fifteen  or  even  twenty  times. 
 A  distinguished  scholar  in  our  own  land  re- 
 wrote the  most  useful  of  his  sermons  thir- 
 
 teen or  fourteen  times,  and  laboured  in 
 connection  with  a  literary  friend  two  whole 
 days  on  as  many  sentences.  A  living  di- 
 vine, who  has  been  called  the  prince  of  nur 
 pulpit  orators,  spent  a  fortnight  on  a  single 
 discourse,  which  has  already  accomplished 
 more  good  tlian  4000  which  were  written 
 by  another  of  our  pastors,  at  the  rate  of  two 
 a  week.  On  the  blank  leaf  of  one  of  Dr. 
 Griffin's  manuscripts,  it  appeared  that  his 
 discourse  had  been  preached  ninety  times  ! 
 Thus  it  had  lieen  touched  and  retouched, 
 reviewed  and  i-e-written,  till,  so  far  as  the 
 author's  power  availed,  it  was  perfected. 
 
 W.  Balkam. 
 
 SERVANT— Good. 
 
 A  good  servant  considers  himself  bound 
 by  the  laws  of  God,  as  well  as  of  man,  to 
 be  strictly  honest,  just,  and  faithful,  with 
 regard  to  everything  committed  to  his 
 charge ;  he  will  not  content  himself  with 
 eye  service,  but  is  as  careful  of  his  master's 
 property  as  if  it  were  his  own,  and  that 
 equally  as  much  in  his  absence  as  when 
 his  master  is  present  with  him.  He  obeys 
 all  the  just  and  reasonable  commands  of 
 his  master  with  zeal  and  pleasure.  He 
 does  not  stand  in  need  of  admonitions  to 
 the  performance  of  his  duty,  nor  reproaches 
 for  the  omission  of  it.  He  treats  his 
 master  with  respect  in  his  presence,  and 
 never  slanders  him  when  out  of  his  hear- 
 ing. He  endeavours  to  jn-omote  the  same 
 fidelity  amongst  his  fellow  servants  which 
 he  constantly  practices  iiiniself,  and  if  they 
 will  act  otherwise  he  tlilnks  it  liis  duty  to 
 acquaint  his  master  with  their  conduct. 
 If  his  master  is  a  m;in  of  piety,  he  respects 
 him  the  more  for  it,  and  esteems  it  a  great 
 privilege  to  attend  with  him  at  public 
 worship,  and  to  have  the  benefit  of  his 
 precepts  and  examjjle.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 SERVANTS— Faithful. 
 
 A  shepherd  had  driven  part  of  his  flock 
 to  a  neigbouring  fair,  leaving  his  dog  to 
 watch  the  remainder  during  that  day  and 
 the  next  night,  expecting  to  revisit  them 
 in  the  morning.  Unfortunately,  however, 
 when  at  the  fair,  the  shepherd  forgot  both 
 his  dog  and  sheep,  and  did  not  return 
 home  till  the  morning  of  the  third  day. 
 His  first  inquiry  was,  whether  his  dog  had 
 been  visited  ?  The  answer  was,  "  No." 
 "  Then  he  must  be  dead,"  replied  the 
 shepherd,  with  a  tone  and  gesture  of  an- 
 guish ;  "for  I  know  he  was  too  faithful  to 
 desert  his  charge."  He  instantly  repaired 
 to  the  heath.  The  dog  had  just  sufficient 
 strength  remaining  to  crawl  to  his  master's 
 feet  and  express  his  joy  at  his  return,  and 
 almost  immediately  after  expired. 
 
 If  this  shepherd's  dog  was  so  faithful  to 
 his  master  and  work,  how  much  more 
 should   all   servants  be   faithful    to    their 
 
783 
 
 SERVANTS— SERVICE  OF  GOD. 
 
 Mnster  who  is  in  heaven,  and  to  the  work 
 which  He  has  appointed  them  on  earth  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 SERVANTS— Treatment  of. 
 
 I  am  quite  sure  that  no  one  would  have 
 to  compLiin  of  servants  if  they  would  both 
 bear  in  mind  the  sensitiveness  which  is 
 already  produced  by  the  improved  educa- 
 tion of  tlie  class  from  which  they  are 
 taken,  and,  while  they  carefully  avoid  the 
 peremptory  tone  of  command  which  is  too 
 common,  trust  them  more.  Many  a  well- 
 intentioned  lady,  moreover,  keeps  up  a 
 spirit  of  small  but  chronic  resentment  in 
 her  household  by  supervision  in  those 
 matters  which  lie  outside  the  covenant 
 between  mistress  and  servant.  Servants,  for 
 example,  should  never  be  compelled  to  do 
 their  shopping  and  see  their  friends  on  the 
 sly.  Let  them  have  the  privilege  of  en- 
 tertaining some  of  their  acquaintances, 
 and  going  out  to  do  their  own  inevitable 
 business.  Arrange,  if  possible,  for  your 
 servants  to  have  a  party  of  their  own 
 friends  some  day  when  you  are  away  from 
 home  yourself.  When  you  are  absent  for 
 a  time,  bring  back  some  little  present ;  not 
 an  offensively  good  book,  but  such  a  knick- 
 knack  as  is  decorative  rather  than  severely 
 useful.  Do  not  be  too  censorious  about 
 bonnets  and  hoops.  Rather  give  your 
 maid  some  article  of  dress  which  is  dainty, 
 and  yet  becoming,  aud  thus  win  her  con- 
 fidence, by  assuming  the  righteousness  of 
 a  certain  amount  of  personal  self-respect. 
 Meet  the  inevitable  weaknesses  of  youth, 
 good  looks  and  high  spirits,  half-way,  and 
 let  your  own  good  taste  and  better  culti- 
 vation lead  them  aright.  Do  not  snift'  at 
 them,  and  send  them  oft'  at  a  tangent,  thus 
 possibly  driving  them  into  defiant  and 
 outrageous  extremes.  Above  all,  be  cour- 
 teous. Do  not  claim  as  a  prerogative  of 
 gentility  to  speak  sharply  to  those  who 
 are  required  to  answer  yon  with  respect. 
 It  seems  to  me  that  servants  are  sometimes 
 expected  to  be  the  most  gentle  in  the 
 household,  and  to  keep  rules  of  politeness 
 which  their  betters  are  exempted  from 
 observing.  If  you  treat  your  equal  with 
 courtesy,  who  is  privileged  to  resent  an 
 impertinence,  how  much  more  cautious 
 should  you  be  in  yoar  tone  towards  those 
 from  whom  you  demand  a  respectful 
 demeanour.  Chambers. 
 
 SERVICE  OF  GOD— Activity  in  the. 
 
 Tins  angel  (who  delivered  Peter),  like 
 the  other  angels  of  Grod — like  the  angel 
 that  hurried  Lot — appears  in  a  kind  of 
 solemn  haste.  "  Arise  up  quickly,"  he 
 says ;  "  gird  thyself."  These  spirits,  when 
 their  purpose  is  etfected,  do  not  stand  in 
 wonderment  at  their  own  exploits — they 
 take   no   breathing  time — they   want   no 
 
 leisure  to  rest  from  the  toil  and  contem- 
 plate the  coniiuest.  It  is  a  very  ordinary 
 thing  to  them — it  excites  no  particular 
 surprise  or  elation  in  their  minds — they  do 
 not  think  of  repose.  So  should  it  be  with 
 the  servants  of  God  on  earth.  They  should 
 not  stand  still,  wondering  at  their  own 
 doings,  or  think  they  deserve  a  year's 
 holiday  after  the  labour  of  one  exploit ; 
 they  also  should  be  in  solemn  haste — their 
 time  is  all  too  short.  Not  an  hour  should 
 pass,  after  their  greatest  effort,  without 
 preparing  for  some  new  service. 
 
 John  Foster. 
 
 SERVICE  OF  GOD— Heart  in  the. 
 
 God  marks  how  I  speak,  and  how  you 
 hear,  and  how  we  pray  in  this  place ;  and 
 if  it  come  not  from  the  heart.  He  repels  it 
 as  fast  as  it  goes  up,  like  the  smoke  which 
 climbs  towards  heaven,  but  never  comes 
 there.  Man  thinks  when  he  hath  the  gift, 
 he  hath  the  heart  too ;  but  God,  when  He 
 hath  the  gift,  calls  for  the  heart  still.  The 
 Pharisee's  prayer,  the  harlot's  vow,  the 
 traitor's  kiss,  the  sacrifice  of  Cain,  the 
 feast  of  Jezebel,  the  oblations  of  Ananias, 
 the  tears  of  Esau,  are  nothing  to  Him,  but 
 still  He  cries,  Bring  thy  heart  or  bring 
 nothing ;  like  a  jealous  husband  when  he 
 hath  a  wife,  yet  he  is  jealous  whether  he 
 hath  her  heart ;  so  whatsoever  thou  do, 
 yet  God  is  jealous  still  and  respects  not 
 what  thou  doest,  but  whether  thou  do  it 
 from  the  heart,  that  is,  of  mere  love  to- 
 ward Him.  If  Pilate  had  washed  his 
 heart  when  he  washed  his  hands,  he  had 
 been  cleaner  than  Naaman  when  he  came 
 out  of  Jordan  ;  if  the  Shechemites  had  cir- 
 cumcised their  hearts  when  they  circum- 
 cised their  flesh,  they  had  saved  their  souls 
 when  they  had  lost  their  lives  ;  if  Cain  had 
 oftered  his  heart  when  he  offered  the  fruits, 
 his  offering  had  been  as  acceptable  as  Abel's. 
 But  as  swine's  flesh  was  like  sheep's  flesh, 
 yet  was  not  accepted,  because  it  came  from 
 an  imclean  beast ;  so  Cain's  offering,  Pi- 
 late's wasliing,  the  Shechemites'  circum- 
 cision, the  Pharisee's  prayer,  and  fasts,  and 
 alms,  were  as  fair  as  the  apostles' ;  yet  they 
 had  no  reward,  but  "  tvoe  to  you  hypO' 
 crites,"  because  they  w.anted  the  heart, 
 which  is  like  the  fire  that  kindleth  the 
 sacrifice.  Henry  Smith, 
 
 SERVICE  OF  GOD— Reasonable. 
 
 Eight  reason  acquiesces  in  and  approves 
 of  the  dedication  and  sacrifice  of  every- 
 thing we  have  and  are  to  the  hono\ir  of 
 our  God.  It  is  infinitely  right  and  fit  to 
 engage  ourselves  unto  the  Lord ;  it  is  pro- 
 portionate to  His  excellencies,  and  to  our 
 state  and  wants.  The  way  of  obedience 
 approves  itself  to  the  mind  of  man,  and  is 
 sanctioned  by  the  approbation  of  his  in- 
 most soul.     We,  then,  treat  God  as  He  is ; 
 
SERVICE  OF  GOD— SICKNESS. 
 
 783 
 
 wo  act  agreeably  to  His  nature  and  our 
 relations  to  Him.  Till  we  do  this,  we  act 
 most  irrationally;  we  "walk  in  a  lie." 
 Sinners  "  who  conform  themselves  to  this 
 world,"  and  refuse  to  dedicate  their  bodies 
 and  souls  to  God,  choose  a  most  unreason- 
 able part;  so  unreasonable,  that  at  the  last 
 day  they  will  be  condemned  out  of  their 
 own  mouths;  and  conscience  will  goad 
 them,  as  "  the  worm  that  never  dies," 
 with  its  keen  but  just  reproaches  through 
 eternity.  Bp.  D.  Wilson. 
 
 Whoever  entered  into  the  service  of 
 God  with  all  his  heart,  as  the  Scripture 
 directs,  never  found  his  reason  rise  ia  re- 
 bellion against  him,  any  more  than  when 
 as  a  servant  he  serves  his  master,  or,  as  a 
 subject,  he  serves  his  king ;  or,  as  a  child, 
 he  obeys  his  parents.  The  service  of  God 
 is  in  such  harmony  with  reason,  that  it  is 
 only  when  engaged  in  it  that  man  dis- 
 covers his  reason  to  occupy  its  proper  place, 
 and  to  exercise  itself  in  its  own  legitimate 
 functions.  God  is  a  being  of  infinite  per- 
 fect reason ;  and  can  we  imagine  Him  to 
 require  a  service  from  His  creatures  con- 
 trary either  to  Himself  or  to  them  ? 
 
 John  Bate. 
 SEEVICE  OP  GOD— Selfish. 
 
 Many  men  seek  themselves  in  seeking 
 God ;  and  serve  Him  that  they  may  serve 
 themselves  of  Him.  Venning. 
 
 SERVICE  OF  GOD— Sinister. 
 
 Some  men  are  kind  to  others  but  for 
 their  own  ends,  and  when  they  have  once 
 attained  the  end  for  which  they  were 
 kind,  there's  an  end  of  their  kindness ; 
 they  will  serve  you  for  their  needs,  and 
 when  you  have  served  their  needs,  you 
 shall  observe  that  they  will  neither  serve 
 nor  observe  you  any  longer.  Alas,  do  not 
 men  serve  God  thus  !  Doth  not  rich  Jacob 
 forget  to  pay  what  poor  Jacob  did  promise. 
 Venning. 
 SICK-BED  PROMISES. 
 
 Some  make  many  fair  promises  of  obe- 
 dience, but  it  is  on  the  rack,  and  in  the 
 furnace,  or  as  children  under  the  rod : 
 "  0,  if  I  might  but  recover  this  sickness, 
 or  be  eased  of  this  affliction,  I  would  then 
 be  a  new  man,  and  redeem  my  misspent 
 time !"  And  yet  many  of  these,  like 
 Pharaoh,  when  they  have  any  respite,  find 
 out  ways  to  shift  and  delude  their  own 
 promises,  and,  like  melted  metal  taken  out 
 of  the  furnace,  return  again  unto  their 
 own  hardness.  So  a  good  divine  observes 
 of  the  people  of  this  land,  in  the  time  of 
 the  great  sweat  in  King  Edward's  days 
 (I  wish  we  could  find  even  so  much  in 
 these  days  of  calamity  which  we  are  fallen 
 into),  as  long  as  the  heat  of  the  plague 
 lasted,  there  was  crying   out,   "  ^feccavi. 
 
 mercy,  good  Lord,  mercy,  mercy  !"  Then 
 lords  and  ladies,  and  people  of  the  best 
 sort,  cried  out  to  the  ministers,  "  For  God's 
 sake  tell  us  what  we  shall  do  to  avoid  tlie 
 wrath  of  God  ;  take  these  bags ;  pay  so 
 much  to  such  an  one  whom  I  deceived ;  so 
 much  restore  unto  another,  whom,  in  bar- 
 gaining I  overreached ;  give  so  much  to 
 the  poor,  so  much  to  pious  uses,"  &c.  But 
 after  the  sickness  was  over,  they  were  just 
 the  same  men  as  they  were  before.  Thus, 
 in  time  of  trouble,  men  are  apt  to  make 
 many  prayers  and  covenants,  to  cry  unto 
 God,  "  Arise,  and  save  us,  deliver  us  this 
 time ;"  they  inquire  early  after  God,  and 
 flatter  Him  with  their  lips,  and  own  Hiia 
 as  their  God  and  Rock  of  Salvation,  and 
 presently  "  start  aside  like  a  deceitful  bow." 
 As  Austin  notes,  that,  in  time  of  calamity, 
 that  the  very  heathens  would  flock  unto 
 the  Christian  churches,  to  be  safe  amongst 
 them.  And  when  the  Lord  sent  ^  lions 
 among  the  Samaritans,  then  they  sent  to 
 inquire  after  the  manner  of  His  worship 
 (2  Kings  xvii,  25,  26).  Thus  many  men's 
 covenants  are  founded  only  in  terrors  of 
 conscience.  They  throw  out  their  sins,  as 
 a  merchant  at  sea  his  rich  commodities  in 
 a  tempest,  but  in  a  calm  wish  for  them 
 again.  Bjp.  Bei/nolds. 
 
 SICKNESS— Benefit  of. 
 
 Health  and  the  sun  have  been  always 
 sung  and  praised ;  I  will  now  celebrate 
 sickness  and  shade.  I  will  celebrate  thee, 
 bodily  sickness,  when  thou  layest  thy  hand 
 on  the  head  and  heart  of  man,  and  sayest 
 to  the  suflerings  of  his  spirit,  "  Enough  !" 
 Thou  art  called  on  earth  an  evil ;  ah  !  how 
 often  art  thou  a  good,  a  healing  balsam, 
 under  whose  benign  influence  the  soul 
 rests  after  its  hard  struggles,  and  its  wild 
 storms  are  still !  More  than  once  hast 
 thou  prevented  suicide,  and  preserved  from 
 madness.  The  terrible,  the  bitter  words 
 which  destroy  the  heart  are  by  degrees 
 obliterated  during  the  feverish  dreams  of 
 illness ;  the  terrors  which  lately  seemed  so 
 near  us  are  drawn  away  into  the  distance ; 
 we  forget — God  be  thanked  ! — we  forget, 
 and  when,  at  last,  we  arise  with  exhausted 
 strength  from  the  sick  bed,  our  souls  often 
 awake,  as  out  of  a  long  night,  into  a  new 
 morning.  So  many  things,  during  the  ill- 
 ness of  the  body,  conspire  to  soften  the 
 feelings ;  the  still  room — the  mild  twilight 
 tln-ough  the  window-curtains — the  low 
 voices — and  then,  more  than  all,  the  kind 
 words  of  those  who  surround  us — their  at- 
 tention— their  solicitude — perhaps  a  tear 
 in  their  eyes — all  this  does  us  good — does 
 us  essential  good ;  and  when  the  wise  Solo- 
 mon enumerated  all  the  good  tilings  which 
 have  their  time  upon  earth,  he  forgot  to 
 celebrate  sickness  among  the  rest. 
 
 FrederiLa  Bremer. 
 
734 
 
 SICKNESSES— SIMPLICITY  IN  LANGUAGE. 
 
 SICKITESSES— Moral. 
 
 One  is  sick  of  an  overflowing  of  the  gall, 
 another  of  the  vertigo  of  inconstancy,  an- 
 other of  the  choking  squiuancy  of  curses 
 and  blasphemies ;  one  of  the  boulimy  of 
 gluttony,  another  of  the  pleuritical  stitches 
 of  envy  ;  one  of  the  contracting  crainp  of 
 coveteousness,  another  of  the  atrophy  of 
 unproficiency ;  one  is  hide-bound  v\ith 
 pride,  another  is  consumed  with  emula- 
 tion ;  another  rotten  with  corrupt  desires  ; 
 and  we  are  so  much  the  sicker,  if  we  feel 
 not  these  distempers.  B^.  Hall. 
 
 SILENCE— Power  in. 
 
 In  silence  mighty  things  are  wrought — 
 
 Silently  builded,  thought  on  thought, 
 
 Truth's  temple  greets  the  sky  : 
 And  like  a  citadel  with  towers. 
 The  soul,  with  her  subservient  powers, 
 
 Is  strengthened  silently. 
 
 Soundless  as  chariots  on  the  snow. 
 The  saplings  of  the  forest  grow 
 
 To  trees  of  mighty  growth  ; 
 Each  nightly  star  in  silence  burns. 
 And  every  day  in  silence  turns 
 
 The  axle  of  the  earth. 
 
 The  silent  frost,  with  mighty  hand. 
 Fetters  the  rivers  and  the  land 
 
 With  universal  chain ; 
 And,  smitten  by  the  silent  sun. 
 The  chain  is  loosed,  the  rivers  run, 
 
 The  lands  are  free  again. 
 
 0,  Source  unseen,  of  life  and  light. 
 Thy  secrecy  of  silent  might 
 
 If  we  iu  bondage  know 
 Our  hearts,  like  seeds  beneath  the  ground, 
 By  silent  force  of  life  unbound, 
 
 iilove  upward  from  below.  T.  T.  Lynch. 
 
 SILENCE— Wisdom  in. 
 
 Most  men  speak  when  they  do  not  know 
 how  to  be  silent.  Seldom  do  you  see  any 
 one  silent,  when  to  speak  is  of  no  profit. 
 He  is  wise  who  knows  when  to  hold  his 
 peace.  Tie  your  tongue,  lest  it  be  wanton 
 and  luxuriate ;  keep  it  within  the  banks  ;  a 
 rapidly  flowing  river  soon  collects  mud. 
 
 Amlrose. 
 
 SILENCE  OF  GOD  IN  CREATION. 
 
 When  He  spake  all  things  into  being, 
 the  everlasting  silence  remained  unbroken. 
 No  stir  was  seen,  no  commotion  felt.  The 
 starting  into  life  of  ten  thousand  times  ten 
 thousand  millions  of  angels  from  the  deep 
 abyss  of  eternity,  created  no  noise.  The 
 creation  of  millions  upon  millions  of  worlds, 
 by  the  fiat  of  His  matchless  power,  was 
 dune  in  noiselessness  and  peace. 
 
 Dr.  F.  W.  Faher. 
 SIMPLICITY— Difficult. 
 
 Some  able  and  excellent  men  are  never 
 
 able  to  get  down  to  the  level  of  children. 
 A  man  of  this  class,  a  learned  theologiciil 
 professor,  was  once  engaged  to  address  a 
 Sunday  School.  He  read  a  number  of 
 verses  from  the  Bible,  and  then  said, 
 "  Children,  I  intend  to  give  you  a  sum- 
 mary of  the  truth  tauglit  in  this  portion 
 of  the  Scripture."  Here  the  pastor  touched 
 him,  iind  suggested  that  he  had  better 
 explain  to  the  school  what  "  summary " 
 meant.  So  he  turned  round  and  said  to 
 the  children,  "  Your  pastor  wants  me  to 
 explain  what  summary  means,  and  I  will 
 do  so.  Well,  children,  summary  is  an 
 abbreviated  synopnis  of  a  thing."        Anon. 
 
 SIMPLICITY— Mistaking. 
 
 There  is  a  great  mistake  made  on  the 
 subject  of  simplicity.  There  is  one  sim- 
 plicity of  circumstances;  another  simplicity 
 of  heart.  These  two  must  not  be  con- 
 founded. It  is  common  to  talk  of  the 
 humble  poor  man,  and  the  proud  rich  man. 
 Let  not  these  ideas  be  inseparably  blended 
 together.  There  is  many  a  man  who  sits 
 down  to  a  meal  of  bread  and  milk  on  a 
 wooden  table,  whose  heart  is  as  proud  as 
 the  proudest  whose  birth  is  royal.  There 
 is  many  a  one  whose  voice  is  heard  in  the 
 public  meeting,  loudly  descanting  on  regal 
 tyranny  and  aristocratic  insolence,  who,  in 
 his  own  narrow  circle,  is  as  much  a  tyrant 
 as  any  oppressor  who  ever  disgraced  the 
 throne.  And  there  is  many  a  man  who 
 sits  down  to  daily  pomp,  to  whom  gold 
 and  silver  are  but  as  brass  and  tin,  and 
 who  bears  in  the  midst  of  it  all  a  meek, 
 simple  spirit,  and  a  "  heart  refrained  as  a 
 weaned  child."  Many  a  man  who  lives 
 surrounded  with  homage,  and  hearing  the 
 applause  and  flattery  of  men  perpetually, 
 on  whose  heart  the.~e  things  fall  flat  and 
 dead,  without  raising  one  single  emotion 
 of  fluttered  vanity.  F.  W.  Eoherlson. 
 
 SIMPLICITY  OF  HEART. 
 
 The  man  of  pure  and  simple  heart 
 Through  life  disdains  a  double  part; 
 He  never  needs  the  screen  of  lies. 
 His  inwai'd  bosom  to  disguise.        Gay. 
 
 SIMPLICITY  IN  LANGUAGE. 
 
 Be  simple,  he  unafi'ected,  be  honest  in 
 your  speaking  and  writing.  Never  use  a 
 long  word  where  a  short  one  will  do.  Call 
 a  spade  a  spade,  not  a  well-known  ohlong 
 instrument  of  manual  husbandry  ;  let  home 
 be  home,  not  a  residence ;  a  place  a  place, 
 not  a  locality  ;  and  so  of  the  rest.  Where 
 a  short  word  will  do,  you  always  lose  by 
 using  a  long  one.  You  lose  in  clearness ; 
 you  lose  in  honest  expression  of  your  mean- 
 ing ;  and,  in  estimation  of  all  men  who 
 are  qualified  to  judge,  you  lose  in  repu- 
 tation for  ability.  Tiie  only  true  way  lo 
 shine,  even  iu  this  talse  world,  is   to   be 
 
785 
 
 modest  and  unassuming.  Falsehood  may 
 be  a  very  thick  crust,  but  in  the  course 
 of  time,  truth  will  find  a  place  to  break 
 through.  Elegance  of  language  may  not 
 be  in  the  power  of  all  of  us;  but  simplicity 
 and  straightforwardness  are.  Write  much 
 as  you  would  speak ;  speak  as  you  think. 
 If  with  your  inieriors,  speak  no  coarser 
 than  usual ;  if  with  your  superiors,  no 
 finer.  Be  what  you  say ;  and,  within  the 
 rules  of  prudence,  say  what  you  are. 
 
 DeoM  Alford. 
 
 SIN— Besetting. 
 
 The  bosom  sin  in  grace  exactly  resembles 
 a  strong  current  in  nature,  which  is  setting 
 full  ujjon  dangerous  shoals  and  quicksands. 
 If,  in  your  spiritual  computation,  you  do  not 
 calculate  upon  your  besetting  sin,  upon  its 
 force,  its  ceaseless  operation,  and  its  artful- 
 ness, it  will  sweep  you  on  noiselessly,  and 
 with  every  appearance  of  calm,  but  surely 
 and  efl"ectually,  to  your  ruin.  So  may  we 
 see  a  gallant  ship  leave  the  dock,  fairly  and 
 bravely  rigged,  and  with  all  her  pennons 
 flying ;  and  the  high  sea,  when  she  has 
 cleft  her  way  into  it,  is  unwrinkled  as  the 
 brow  of  childhood,  and  seems  to  laugh  with 
 many  a  twinkling  smile  ;  and  when  night 
 falls,  the  moonbeam  dances  upon  the  wave, 
 and  the  brightness  of  the  day  has  left  a 
 delicious  balminess  behind  it  in  the  air,  the 
 ship  is  anchored  negligently  and  feebly, 
 and  all  is  then  still  save  the  gentle  drowsy 
 gurgling,  which  tells  that  water  is  the 
 element  in  which  she  floats ;  but  in  the 
 dead  of  the  night  the  anchor  loses  its 
 hold,  and  then  the  current,  deep  and 
 powerful,  bears  her  noiselessly  whither  it 
 will ;  and  in  the  morning  the  wail  of  des- 
 peration rises  from  her  decks,  for  she  has 
 fallen  on  the  shoal,  and  the  disconsolate- 
 ness  of  the  dreary  twilight,  as  the  breeze 
 springs  with  the  daybreak,  and  with  rude 
 impact  dashes  her  planks  angrily  against 
 the  rock,  contrasts  strangely  with  the  com- 
 fort and  peacefulness  of  the  past  evening. 
 Such  was  the  doom  of  Judas  Iscariot. 
 Blessed  with  the  companionship  of  our 
 Lord  Himself,  dignified  with  the  Apostle- 
 ship,  and  adorned  with  all  the  high  graces 
 which  that  vocation  involved,  he  was  blinded 
 to  the  under-current  of  his  character,  which 
 set  in  the  direction  of  the  mammon  of 
 unrighteousness,  and  which  eventually  en- 
 sured for  him  an  irretrievable  fall. 
 
 Br.  Goulhurn. 
 
 SIN— Blinding  of. 
 
 It  is  among  the  most  potent  of  the 
 energies  of  sin,  that  it  leads  astray  by 
 blinding,  and  blinds  by  leading  astray ; 
 that  the  soul  of  man,  like  the  strong 
 champion  of  Israel,  must  have  its  "  eyes 
 put  out,"  when  it  would  be  "  bound  with 
 
 fetters  of  brass,"  and  condemned  "  to  grind 
 in  the  prison  house"  (Judges  xvi,  21). 
 
 Archer  Butler. 
 SIN— Burden  of. 
 
 Sin  Is  an  intolerable  burden  (Isa.  i,  3) ; 
 such  as  presseth  down  (Heb.  xii,  1) ;  a 
 burden  it  is  to  God  (Amos  ii,  13) ;  to 
 Christ  it  was  when  it  made  Him  sweat 
 water  and  blood;  to  the  angels  when  it 
 break  their  backs  and  sunk  them  into 
 hell ;  to  men,  under  whom  the  very  earth 
 groaneth,  the  axletree  thereof  is  ever  ready 
 to  crack,  &c.  It  could  not  bear  Koi-ah 
 and  his  company,  and  spewed  out  the 
 Canaanites,  &c.  John  Trapp. 
 
 SIN— as  Clouds. 
 
 1.  Clouds  sometimes  obstruct  the  bene- 
 ficial influences  of  heaven  co\ning  upon  the 
 earth  ;  so  sin  prevents  the  blessings  of  the 
 Saviour's  Gospel  flowing  into  the  hearts  of 
 men. 
 
 2.  Clouds  have  their  origin  in  the  earth ; 
 sin  in  its  origin  is  beneath  and  not  above. 
 
 3.  Clouds  are  often  charged  with  evil — 
 the  electric  fluid — the  fearful  storm  ;  so  is 
 sin  filled  with  the  most  woeful  evils  to 
 humanity. 
 
 4.  Clouds  sssume  every  variety  of  shape, 
 colour,  and  duration  ;  so  sin  has  no  set 
 form,  but  varies  according  to  persons,  cir- 
 cumstances, times,  and  places. 
 
 5.  Clouds  cannot  be  dispersed  by  any 
 human  agency ;  nor  can  sin  be  forgiven 
 by  any  power  less  than  Divine. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 SIN— Covering. 
 
 To  cover  the  sin  which  lies  on  the  con- 
 science with  a  layer  of  earnest  efforts  to 
 do  right  will  not  take  the  sin  away;  the 
 underlying  sin  will  assimilate  all  the  dead 
 works  that  may  be  heaped  ujjon  it,  and 
 the  result  will  be  a  greater  mass  of  sin. 
 
 Arnot. 
 SIN— Cunning. 
 
 Oh,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 
 Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 SIN— Curse  of. 
 
 O  sin  I  how  hast  thou  curst  us  !  Thou 
 hast  thrown  up  a  barrier  between  ourselves 
 and  God;  with  thy  chilling  breath  thou 
 hast  extinguished  the  light  of  our  house- 
 hold joys ;  thou  hast  unstrung  our  harp, 
 and  filled  the  air  with  discordant  cries ; 
 thou  hast  unsheathed  the  sword,  and 
 bathed  it  in  human  blood ;  thou  hast  dug 
 every  grave  in  the  bosom  of  the  fair  earth ; 
 but  for  thee  we  should  not  have  known  tb« 
 name  of  widow  or  orphan,  tear  and  sigh, 
 sorrow  and  death  ;  but  for  thee  our  hearts 
 had  been  untorn  by  a  pang,  and  our  joy 
 pm'e  as  the  ecstacies  of  heaven. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Parker. 
 50 
 
SIN— Curse  on. 
 
 Look  outward ;  and  behold  a  curse  in 
 the  creature,  vanity,  emptiness,  vexation, 
 disappointments  ;  every  creature  armed 
 with  a  sting,  to  revenge  its  Maker's 
 quarrel. 
 
 Look  inward;  and  behold  a  curse  in  the 
 conscience,  accusing,  witnessing,  condemn- 
 ing, baling  to  the  tribunal  of  vengeance ; 
 first  defiling  with  the  allowance,  and  after 
 terrifying  with  the  remembrance  of  sin. 
 
 Look  upward ;  and  behold  a  curse  in 
 the  heavens ;  the  wrath  of  God  revealed 
 from  thence  unon  all  unrighteousness. 
 
 Look  downward ;  and  behold  a  curse  in 
 the  earth ;  death  ready  to  put  a  period  to 
 all  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and  like  a  trap- 
 door to  let  down  into  hell,  where  nothing 
 of  sin  will  remain  but  the  worm  and  the 
 fire. 
 
 Look  into  the  Scripture,  and  see  the 
 curse  there  described  ;  an  everlasting 
 banishment  from  the  glory  of  God's  pre- 
 sence; an  everlasting  destruction  by  the 
 glory  of  His  power.  Bp.  Reynolds. 
 
 SIN— Death  of. 
 
 There  is  nothing  so  hard  to  die  as  sin. 
 An  atom  may  kill  a  giant,  a  word  may 
 break  the  peace  of  a  nation,  a  spark  burn 
 up  a  city ;  but  it  requires  earnest  and  pro- 
 tracted struggles  to  destroy  sin  in  the  soul. 
 Dr.  TJiomas. 
 SIN— Debasement  of. 
 
 Keuben  by  incest  lost  his  dignity;  and 
 though  he  was  the  first-born,  he  could  not 
 excel  (Gen.  xlix.  4).  God  made  us  in  His 
 own  image,  a  little  lower  than  the  angels ; 
 but  sin  hath  debased  us.  Before  Adam 
 sinned,  he  was  like  an  herald  that  hath  his 
 coat  of  arms  upon  him  ;  all  reverence  him, 
 because  he  carries  the  king's  coat-of-arms ; 
 but  let  this  coat  be  pulled  off,  and  he  is 
 despised,  no  man  regards  him.  Sin  hath 
 done  this ;  it  hath  plucked  off  our  coat  of 
 innocency,  and  now  it  hath  debased  us, 
 and  turned  our  glory  into  shame  (Dan. 
 xi,  21).  "  And  there  shall  stand  up  a  vile 
 person."  This  was  spoken  of  Antiochus 
 Epiphanes,  who  was  a  king,  and  his  name 
 signifies  illustrious;  yet  sin  had  degraded 
 him,  he  was  a  vile  person.  T.  Watson. 
 
 SIN— Deceitfulness  of. 
 
 When  a  man  sinneth,  he  thinketh  with 
 himself,  I  will  do  this  no  more ;  after, 
 another  sin  promiseth  as  much  profit  as 
 that,  and  he  saith  again,  I  will  do  this  no 
 more ;  presently  another  sin  promiseth  as 
 much  profit  as  that,  and  he  saith  again,  I 
 will  do  this  and  no  more. 
 
 This  is  the  property  of  sin  to  spur  a 
 man  forward,  until  he  commit  that  which 
 he  condemneth  himself,  that  he  may  be 
 tormented  of  his  own  conscience. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 SIN— Deceitfulness  of. 
 
 It  hath  many  secret  ways  of  insinuating ; 
 it  is  like  a  Delilah;  it's  like  Jael  to  Sisera; 
 sin  is  a  sweet  poison,  it  tickleth  while  it 
 stabbeth ;  the  first  thing  that  sin  doth  is 
 to  bewitch,  then  to  put  out  the  eyes,  then 
 to  take  away  the  sense  and  feeling;  to  do 
 to  a  man  as  Noah's  daughter's  did  to  him, 
 make  him  drunk,  and  then  he  doth  he 
 knoweth  not  what.  As  Joab  came  with 
 a  kind  salute  to  Abner,  and  thrust  him 
 under  the  fifth  rib,  while  Abner  thought 
 of  nothing  but  kindness,  so  sin  comes 
 smiling,  comes  pleasing  and  humouring 
 thee,  while  it  giveth  thee  a  deadly  stab. 
 
 Anthony  Burgess, 
 
 Sin  is  composed  of  nought  but  subtle 
 wiles. 
 
 It  fawns  and  flatters,  and  betrays  by 
 smiles ; 
 
 'Tis  like  the  panther,  or  the  crocodile. 
 
 It  seems  to  love,  and  promises  no  wile, 
 
 It  hides  its  sting,  seems  harmless  as  a 
 dove; 
 
 It  hugs  the  soul,  and  hates  Avhen  't  vows 
 most  love. 
 
 It  plays  the  tyrant  most  by  gilded  pills, 
 
 It  secretly  ensnares  the  souls  it  kills. 
 
 Sin's  promises  they  all  deceitful  be. 
 
 Does  promise  wealth,  but  pay  us  poverty; 
 
 Does  promise  honour,  but  doth  pay  us 
 shame ; 
 
 And  quite  bereaves  a  man  of  his  good 
 name ; 
 
 Does  promise  pleasure,  but  doth  pay  us 
 sorrow ; 
 
 Does  promise  life  to-day,  pays  death  to- 
 morrow. 
 
 No  thief  so  vile,  nor  treacherous  as  sin. 
 
 Whom  fools  do  hug,  and  take  much  plea- 
 sure in.  Keach. 
 
 SIN— Definition  of. 
 
 Sin  is  a  defect,  or  an  inclination,  or 
 action  repugnant  to  the  law  of  God, 
 offending  God,  and  making  him  that 
 sinneth,  together  with  all  his  posterity, 
 guilty  of  temporal  and  eternal  punish- 
 ment, except  remission  be  granted  for  the 
 Son  of  God  our  Mediator. 
 
 Archbishop  Parlcer. 
 
 SIN— Destruction  by  One. 
 
 You  may  be  saved  from,  you  cannot  be 
 saved  in,  your  sins.  One  sin,  even  one  !  is 
 the  "  dead  fly,  that  maketh  the  apothe- 
 cary's ointment  to  stink  ; "  —  the  fatal 
 leak,  which,  however  small  and  concealed 
 from  the  public  eye,  if  not  stopped,  fills 
 and  sinks  the  ship.  Hell  enters  at  the 
 smallest  breach  of  God's  la\y,  and  the 
 smallest  sin  is  thus  an  enormous  evil. 
 
 Dr.  Chuthrie. 
 
SIN— Excuses  for. 
 
 Serpens  decepit  was  Eve's  plea,  and  she 
 pleaded  but  truth,  for  the  serpent  had,  in- 
 deed, beguiled  her ;  St.  Paul  hath  said  it 
 after  her  twice  over.  Esau,  after  he  had 
 sold  his  birthright  his  own  self,  yet  accused 
 his  brother  for  supplanting  him.  Aaron 
 for  making  the  calf,  and  Saul  for  sparing 
 the  cattle,  both  contrary  to  God's  express 
 command,  yet  both  lay  it  upon  the  people. 
 Others  have  done  the  like,  and  still  do, 
 and  will  do  to  the  world's  end.  But  alas  ! 
 these  fig-leaves  are  too  thin  to  hide  our 
 nakedness;  all  these  excuses  are  insufficient 
 to  discharge  us  from  being  the  authors  of 
 our  own  destruction.  Bj).  Sanderson. 
 
 SIN— Paith  in. 
 
 Were  a  cup  of  pleasant  wine  put  into 
 you  hands  and  you  knew  for  certain  that 
 a  deadly  poison  was  mixed  up  witb  the 
 wine,  which  would  rack  you  with  the 
 fiercest  pains,  and  ere  long  tear  soul  and 
 body  in  sunder — who  would  drink  it  ?  who 
 would  not  dash  it  from  him  forthwith  ? 
 Yet,  if  we  had  but  faith,  we  should  know 
 and  feel  that  sin  is  deadlier  than  the  dead- 
 liest poison,  that  it  racks  us  with  fiercer 
 pains,  and  gives  us  over  to  a  more  terrible 
 dissolution.  For  it  cuts  us  off  from  God, 
 fi'om  Him  who  is  the  only  source  of  all 
 blessing  and  peace.  Archdeacon  Mare. 
 
 SIN— as  Fire. 
 
 1.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  the  forms  in  which 
 it  exists — fire  exists  in  two  states  ;  the 
 insensihly  latent,  and  the  sensibly  active. 
 
 2.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  its  tendency  to 
 spread  itself. 
 
 3.  Sin  is  like  fiLre  in  its  power  of  chang- 
 ing everything  to  its  own  nature. 
 
 4.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  its  repelling  energy. 
 
 5.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  its  devouring  capa- 
 bility. 
 
 6.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  its  power  to  inflict 
 pain. 
 
 7.  Sin  is  like  fire  in  its  susceptibility  of 
 being  extinguished.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 Sin  is  like  fire  in  that  it  will  never  die 
 out  while  it  is  supplied  with  suitable  fuel. 
 Unpardoned  by  grace,  it  wiU  be  its  own 
 fuel,  and  burn  for  ever.  John  Bate. 
 
 SIN— First. 
 
 The  first  sin — that  is  still  running  like 
 currents  of  fire  through  all  the  ramifica- 
 tions of  humanity;  the  first  sin,  that  has 
 made  the  earth  heave,  surge,  groan,  and 
 travail  together  in  pain  —  robbed  heaven 
 of  some  of  its  brightest  ornaments — built 
 the  great  state  prison  of  hell,  kindled  its 
 first  fires,  and  awakened  groans  that  never 
 end.  Br.  Beaumont. 
 
 W.  787 
 
 SIN  (First)— Effects  of  the. 
 
 There  was  a  time  when  all  the  sin  which 
 was  in  the  world  was  enclosed  in  one  sinful 
 wish  in  the  breast  of  one  woman.  She  had 
 permission  to  eat  of  every  tree  but  one, 
 but  that  one  God  prohibited,  saying,  "  In 
 the  day  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt 
 surely  die."  A  transient  thought,  imme- 
 diately repressed  or  disapproved,  would 
 not  have  been  sin ;  for,  as  MUton  says, 
 
 "  Evil  into  the  mind  of  God  or  man 
 May  come  and  go,  so  unapproved,  and 
 
 leave 
 No  spot  or  blame  behind ; " 
 
 but  she  indulged  that  wish,  and  hankered 
 after  that  fruit ;  and  in  that  sinful  wish 
 all  the  sin  of  the  earth  once  lay.  That 
 wish  became  an  act ;  and  now  let  him  who 
 would  write  the  sins  and  woes  of  earth 
 first  count  for  us  the  snow  flakes  of  five 
 thousand  winters,  and  tell  us  the  number 
 of  drops  in  all  the  rivers  and  oceans.  "  By 
 one  man's  disobedience  many  were  made 
 sinners ; "  and  their  history  is  the  history 
 of  wars,  lust,  intemperance,  violence.  O 
 sin !  what  hast  thou  done  ?  What  canst 
 thou  not  do  ?  N.  Adams. 
 
 SIN— Fleeing  from. 
 
 We  often  say,  "  Flee  from  sin  as  fi-om 
 the  face  of  a  serpent."  Perhaps  very  few 
 of  you  know  how  a  man  feels  when,  for  the 
 first  time,  he  finds  himself,  as  I  remember 
 finding  myself,  within  a  few  inches  of  a 
 serpent — when  he  sees  the  cobra  di  capelia 
 rearing  its  head  ready  to  strike,  and  knows 
 that  one  stroke  of  those  fangs  is  death,  cer- 
 tain death.  That  moment  he  experiences  a 
 varied  passion,  impossible  to  describe ;  fear, 
 hatred,  loathing,  the  desire  to  escape,  the 
 desire  to  kill,  aU  rush  into  one  moment, 
 making  his  entire  being  thrill.  Now,  take 
 two  men,  one  is  in  the  face  of  that  serpent, 
 the  other  is  in  the  presence  of  the  old  ser- 
 pent called  Satan,  the  devil.  One  is  in 
 danger  of  the  sting,  the  other  is  in  danger 
 of  committing  sin.  Which  of  the  two  has 
 most  reason  to  flee  ?  0,  thou  that  art 
 tempted  to  sin  this  day  against  God,  flee 
 from  sin  as  from  the  face  of  a  serpent — a 
 far  deadlier  serpent  is  that  old  serpent  the 
 devil  than  the  other.  Fear  every  sin — 
 "  abhor  it."  The  Apostle's  word  is  not  dis- 
 like it,  disapprove  of  it,  have  a  distaste 
 for,  an  aversion  to  it;  it  is  not  even  the 
 ordinary  word  hate,  but  a  word  much 
 stronger  than  any  of  these — a  word  which 
 in  the  original  is  never  used  except  this 
 once  in  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament. 
 The  literal  u^eaning  of  it  seems  to  be.  Hate 
 it  as  you  would  hate  the  River  Styx  ;  and 
 to  the  people  to  whom  he  wrote  the  idea 
 conveyed  was.  Hate  it  as  you  would  hate 
 the  way  to  hell.     So  it  is  the  way  to  hell. 
 
7S8 
 
 SIN. 
 
 Hate  it  always  as  you  would  hato  the  way 
 to  hell.  W.  Arthur ^ 
 
 SIN — Forgiveness  of. 
 
 The  forgiveness  that  is  with  God  is  such 
 as  becomes  Him,  such  as  is  suitable  to  His 
 i^reatness,  goodness,  and  other  excellences 
 of  His  nature,  such  as  that  therein  He  will 
 be  known  to  be  God.  It  is  not  like  that 
 narrow,  difficult,  halving  and  manacled  for- 
 giveness that  is  found  amongst  men,  when 
 any  such  thing  is  found  amongst  them ; 
 but  it  is  full,  free,  boundless,  bottomless, 
 absolute — such  as  becomes  His  nature  and 
 excellences.  It  is,  in  a  word,  forgiveness 
 that  is  with  God,  and  by  the  exercise 
 whereof  He  will  be  known  so  to  be.  If 
 there  be  any  pardon  with  God,  it  is  such 
 as  becomes  Him  to  give  :  when  He  par- 
 dons He  will  abundantly  pardon.  Go  with 
 your  half-forgiveness,  limited,  conditional 
 l^ardons  with  reserves  and  limitations,  unto 
 the  sons  of  men  ;  it  may  be  it  may  become 
 them— it  is  like  themselves  :  that  of  God 
 is  absolute  and  perfect,  before  which  our 
 sins  are  as  a  cloud  before  the  east  wind 
 and  the  rising  sun.  Hence  He  is  said  to 
 do  this  work  with  His  whole  heart  and  His 
 whole  soul,  freely,  bountifully,  largely,  to 
 indulge  and  forgive  unto  us  our  sins,  and 
 to  cast  them  unto  the  bottom  of  the  sea — 
 unto  a  bottomless  ocean,  an  emblem  of  in- 
 tinite  mercy.  Dr.  J.  Owen. 
 
 SIN— the  Greatest  Evil. 
 
 Saith  the  judgment  of  a  Christian,  "  Sin 
 is  the  greatest  evil  in  all  the  world,  'tis 
 the  only  thing  that  God  abhors,  and  that 
 brought  Jesus  Christ  to  the  cross,  that 
 damns  souls,  that  shuts  heaven,  and  that 
 has  laid  the  foundation  of  hell.  Or,  it  is 
 the  pricking  thorn  in  my  eye,  the  deadly 
 arrow  in  my  side,  the  two-edged  sword 
 that  hath  wounded  my  conscience,  and 
 slain  my  comforts,  and  separated  between 
 God  and  my  soul,  O,  it  is  that  which  hath 
 hindered  my  prayers,  and  embittered  my 
 mercies,  and  put  a  sting  into  all  my  crosses, 
 and,  therefore,  I  can't  but  disapprove  of 
 it,  and  disallow  of  it,  and  condemn  it  to 
 death ;  yea  to  hell,  from  whence  it  came." 
 "  I  thus  preach,  and  thus  think,"  saith 
 Chrysostom,  "that  it  is  more  bitter  to  sin 
 against  Christ,  than  to  suffer  the  torments 
 of  hell."  T.  Brooks. 
 
 SIN — Given  up  to. 
 
 "  Ephraim  is  joined  to  idols,  let  him 
 alone !"  is  to  my  mind  among  the  most 
 awful  sentences  in  the  word  of  God.  How 
 often  does  it  happen,  in  the  h-'story  of 
 these  wilful  sinners  of  the  flesh,  that  after 
 a  while  all  things  seem  to  smile  upon  them 
 and  prosper  them  according  to  their 
 heart's  desires.  Are  they  mad  for  gold  ? 
 gold  seems  to  roll  in   upon   them.     Are 
 
 they  mad  for  pleasure  ?  their  seductive 
 arts  arc  successful,  and  victims  come 
 readily  to  their  lure.  Are  they  mad  for 
 drink  ?  those  around  them,  kindred, 
 friends,  cease  to  strive  with  them,  and 
 give  it  up  as  hopeless;  shame,  too,  aban- 
 dons them,  they  may  wallow  in  beer  or 
 gin,  nobody  cares.  It  is  very  wonderful 
 to  see  how  often,  if  a  man  is  bent  on  an 
 end  which  is  not  God's  end,  God  gives  it 
 him,  and  it  becomes  his  curse.  God  does 
 not  curse  us;  He  leaves  us  to  ourselves; 
 that  is  curse  enough,  and  from  that  curse 
 what  arm  can  save  us !  We  will  have  it, 
 and  we  shall  have  it.  We  leap  through 
 all  the  barriers  which  He  has  raised  around 
 us  to  limit  us,  yea,  tliough  they  be  rings 
 of  blazing  fire,  we  will  through  them  and 
 indulge  our  lust;  and  in  a  moment  He 
 sweeps  them  all  out  of  .our  path — perhaps 
 roses  spring  to  beguile,  where  flames  so 
 lately  blazed  to  warn.  "  Flesh,  give  us 
 flesh  to  eat !  This  manna  does  not  tickle 
 the  palate  nor  fire  the  blood.  We  will 
 have  flesh!"  "Yes!  here  is  flesh.  You 
 shall  have  it ;  see  here,  in  this  blank  wil- 
 derness, the  flesh  is  falling  round  you  in 
 showers.  Kill  and  eat;  there  is  nothing 
 to  hinder  you ;  gorge  yourselves,  here  is 
 plenty;  and  then  lie  down  to  sleep — the 
 sleep  of  sated  lust  shall  be  your  grave." 
 
 J.  B.  Brown. 
 
 SIN— Growth  of. 
 
 Just  as  the  sinner  does  not  note  the 
 lines  of  deformity  settling  day  by  day  over 
 his  countenance,  so  neither  does  he  discern 
 the  lineaments  of  moral  repulsiveness  daily 
 deepening  into  his  soul.  Anon. 
 
 SIN— Hateful  Nature  of. 
 
 From  the  scheme  of  man's  redemption 
 we  learn  that  sin  must  be  something  far 
 more  hateful  in  its  nature,  something  of  a 
 deeper  malignity,  than  is  generally  under- 
 stood. It  could  be  no  inconsiderable  evil 
 that  could  require  such  a  remedy  as  the 
 humiliation  of  the  secoud  person  in  the 
 Godhead.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
 any  light  cause  would  move  the  merciful 
 Father  of  the  universe  to  expose  even  an 
 innocent  man  to  unmerited  sufierings. 
 What  must  be  the  enormity  of  that  guilt, 
 which  God's  mercy  could  not  pardon  till 
 the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  had  under- 
 gone its  punishment?  How  great  must 
 be  the  load  of  crime,  which  could  find  no 
 adequate  atonement  till  the  Son  of  God 
 descended  from  the  bosom  of  the  Father, 
 clothed  Himself  with  flesh,  and  being 
 found  in  fashion  as  a  luan,  submitted  to  a 
 life  of  hardship  and  contempt,  to  a  death 
 of  ignominy  and  pain ! 
 
 From  this  scheme  we  learn  further,  that 
 the  good  or  ill  conduct  of  a  man  is  a  thing 
 of  far  more  importance  and  concern  in  the 
 
SIN. 
 
 789 
 
 moral  system  than  is  generally  imagined. 
 Man's  deviation  from  his  dnty  was  a  dis- 
 order, it  seems,  in  the  moral  system  of  the 
 universe,  for  which  nothing  less  than 
 Divine  wisdom  could  devise  a  remedy — the 
 remedy  devised  nothing  less  than  Divine 
 wisdom  and  power  could  apply.  Man's 
 disobedience  was,  in  the  moral  world,  what 
 it  would  be  in  the  natural,  if  a  planet 
 were  to  wander  from  its  orbit,  or  the  con- 
 stellations to  start  from  their  appointed 
 seats.  It  was  an  evil  for  which  the  regular 
 constitution  of  the  world  had  no  cure, 
 which  nothing  but  the  immediate  inter- 
 position of  Providence  could  repair. 
 
 J3p.  Sorsley. 
 SIN— Hatred  of. 
 
 We  never  so  truly  hate  sin,  as  when  we 
 hate  it  for  its  own  ugliness  and  deformity ; 
 as  we  never  love  God  so  truly,  as  when  we 
 love  Him  for  His  own  beauty  and  excel- 
 lency. If  we  calculate  aright,  as  we  shall 
 find  nothing  better  than  God  Himself,  for 
 which  we  should  love  Him ;  so  neither 
 shall  we  find  anything  worse  than  sin 
 itself,  for  which  we  should  hate  it. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
 It  is  a  saying  of  Anselm,  "  If  hell  were 
 on  one  side,  and  sin  on  the  other,  I  would 
 rather  leap  into  hell,  than  wiUiny.ly  sin 
 against  my  God."  1    h  alson. 
 
 SIN-  ludestructibility  of. 
 
 If  you  cut  a  gash  in  a  man's  head  you 
 may  heal  it,  but  you  can  never  rub  out, 
 nor  wash  out,  nor  cut  out  the  scar.  It 
 may  be  a  witness  against  you  in  his  corpse ; 
 still  it  may  be  covered  by  the  coffin  or 
 hidden  in  the  grave;  but  then  it  is  not 
 till  decomposition  shall  take  place,  that  it 
 shall  entirely  disappear.  But  if  you  smite 
 a  soul,  the  scar  remains;  no  coffin  or 
 grave  shall  hide  it ;  no  revolution,  not  even 
 the  upturning  of  the  physical  universe, 
 shall  obliterate  it;  no  fire,  not  even  the 
 eternal  furnaces  of  hell  shall  burn  it  out. 
 
 Dr.  Thomson. 
 SIN — Indulgence  in. 
 
 He  that  allows  himself  in  any  sin,  or 
 useth  any  unnatural  dalliance  with  any 
 vice,  does  nothing  else,  in  reality,  than 
 entertain  an  incubus  dajraon ;  he  prostitutes 
 a  wanton  soul,  and  forces  it  to  commit 
 lewdness  with  the  devil  itself. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 SIN — without  Infancy. 
 
 Sin  is  the  only  thing  in  the  world  which 
 never  had  an  infancy,  that  knew  no  minority. 
 Dr.  South. 
 SIN — Influence  of  a  Single. 
 
 During  the  summer  of  1853,  I  was  an 
 invalid,  writes  a  gentleman,  and  was  in- 
 
 duced, on  the  recommendation  of  my  jjhy- 
 sician,  to  go  to  the  Hydropathic  Estab- 
 lishment at  Sudbrook  Park,  near  Rich- 
 mond, in  Surrey.  During  my  sojourn 
 there,  I  was  one  day  walking  through  the 
 romantic  grounds  and  park  with  some 
 friends  and  the  proprietor.  Dr.  Ellis,  when 
 the  doctor  drew  our  attention  to  a  large 
 sycamore  tree,  decayed  to  the  core. 
 
 "  That  fine  tree,"  said  he,  "  was  killed 
 by  a  single  worm." 
 
 In  answer  to  our  inquiries,  we  found 
 that  about  two  years  previously,  the  tree 
 was  as  healthy  as  any  in  the  park,  when 
 a  wood-worm,  about  three  inches  long,  was 
 observed  to  be  forcing  its  way  under  the 
 bark  of  the  trunk.  It  caught  the  eye  of 
 a  naturalist  who  was  staying  at  the  estab- 
 lishment. He  remarked,  "  Let  that  worm 
 alone.  Doctor,  and  it  will  kill  the  tree." 
 This  seemed  very  improbable,  but  it  was 
 agreed  that  the  black-headed  worm  should 
 not  be  disturbed. 
 
 After  a  time,  it  was  found  that  the 
 worm  had  tunnelled  its  way  a  considerable 
 distance  under  the  bark.  The  next  sum- 
 mer the  leaves  of  the  ti-ee  dropped  off  very 
 early,  and  in  the  succeeding  year  it  was  a 
 dead,  rotten  thing ;  and  the  hole  made  by 
 the  worm  might  be  seen  in  the  very  heart 
 of  the  once  noble  trunk. 
 
 "Ah,"  said  one  who  was  present,  "let 
 us  learn  a  lesson  from  that  dead  tree. 
 How  many,  who  once  promised  fair  for 
 usefulness  in  the  world  and  the  Church, 
 have  been  ruined  by  a  single  sin .'" 
 
 Anon. 
 
 SIN — as  leprosy. 
 
 I.  The  leprosy  was  small  in  its  beginning 
 and  spreading  in  its  tendency ;  so  is  sin. 
 
 II.  The  leprosy  was  loathsome  and  de- 
 filing in  its  nature ;  so  is  sin. 
 
 III.  The  leprosy  was  incurable  by  human 
 agency;  the  priest  could  teach  the  law 
 concerning  a  cure;  the  leper  could  ob- 
 serve the  law;  but  only  the  invisible 
 power  of  God  could  efl'ect  a  cure;  so  is 
 sin. 
 
 IV.  The  leprosy  was  fatal  in  its  conse- 
 quences, if  uncured  by  God ;  so  is  sin. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 SIN— Lethargy  of. 
 
 Sin,  by  its  deadly  infusions  into  the 
 soul  of  man,  wastes  and  eats  out  the  innate 
 vigour  of  the  soul,  and  casts  it  into  such  a 
 deep  lethargy,  as  that  it  is  not  able  to 
 recover  itself.  John  Smith. 
 
 SIN— Love  of. 
 
 It  is  worse  to  love  sin  than  to  commit 
 it.  A  man  may  commit  sin  through  a 
 temptation,  or  out  of  ignorance ;  and  when 
 he  knows  it  to  be  sin,  he  is  sorry  for  it  j 
 but  he  that  loves  sin,  his  will  is  in  the  sin. 
 
7C0 
 
 SIS. 
 
 and  tliat  aggravates  it,  and  is  like  the  dye 
 
 which  makes  the  wool  of  a  crimson  colour. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 St.  Austin  in  his  youth  was  in  the  habit 
 of  praying  against  lust  and  uncleanness, 
 and  secretly  desired  that  God  would  not 
 hear  him.  How  many  now-a-days,  like 
 him  pray  against  sin,  but  desire  not  to  be 
 heard,  because  of  the  inward  secret  love 
 which  they  have  to  some  particular  habi- 
 tuated sins !  Anon. 
 
 SIN— Memory  of. 
 
 A  rich  landlord  once  cruelly  oppressed  a 
 poor  widow.  Her  son,  a  little  boy  of  eight 
 years,  saw  it.  He  afterwards  became  a 
 puinter,  and  painted  a  life-likeness  of  the 
 dark  scene.  Years  afterwards  he  placed  it 
 where  the  man  saw  it,  he  turned  pale, 
 trembled  in  every  joint,  and  oflered  any 
 sum  to  purchase  it  that  he  might  put  it 
 out  of  sight.  Thus  there  is  an  invisible 
 puinter  drawing  on  the  canvass  of  the  soul 
 a  life-likeness  reflecting  correctly  all  the 
 passions  and  actions  of  our  spiritual  history 
 on  earth.  Eternity  will  reveal  them  to 
 every  man.  We  must  meet  our  earth-life 
 again.  Anon. 
 
 SIN— Misery  of  the  Bondage  of. 
 
 Of  all  miseries  the  bondage  of  sin  is  the 
 most  miserable.  It  is  worse  than  sorrow, 
 worse  than  pain.  It  is  a  ruin  that  no 
 otlier  ruin  is  like  unto.  It  troubles  all 
 the  peace  of  life.  It  turns  sunshine  into 
 darkness.  It  embitters  all  pleasant  fount- 
 ains, and  poisons  the  very  blessings  of  God 
 which  should  have  been  for  our  healing. 
 It  doubles  the  burdens  of  life,  which  are 
 heavy  enough  already.  It  makes  death  a 
 terror  and  a  torture,  and  the  eternity 
 beyond  the  grave  an  infinite  and  intolerable 
 blackness.  Alas  !  we  have  felt  the  weigh- 
 tiness  of  sin,  and  know  that  there  is 
 nothing  like  it.  Life  has  brought  many 
 sorrows  to  us,  and  many  fears.  Oar  hearts 
 have  ached  a  thousand  times.  Tears  have 
 flowed.  Sleep  has  fled.  Food  has  been 
 nauseous  to  us,  even  when  our  weakness 
 craved  for  it.  But  never  have  we  felt  any- 
 thing like  the  dead  weight  of  sin.  What, 
 then,  must  a  life  of  such  sins  be  ?  What 
 must  be  a  death  in  sin  ?  What  the  irre- 
 vocable eternity  of  unrepented  sin  ? 
 
 Dr.  F.  W.  Faber. 
 
 SIN — Multiplication  of. 
 
 Ambition  leads  Absolom  to  conspiracy, 
 conspiracy  to  open  rebellion,  rebellion  to 
 his  father's  concubines ;  at  last  to  the  oak, 
 where  he  hung  with  three  darts  in  his  side. 
 For  sin,  says  Basil,  like  unto  a  stone  that 
 is  cast  into  the  water,  multiplies  itself  by 
 infinite  circles.     The   sins   of  our   v— ^h 
 
 hasten  us  to  the  sins  of  our  age ;  and  the 
 sins  of  our  age  look  back  upon  the  follies 
 of  our  youth  ;  pride  feathers  my  ambition, 
 and  ambition  swells  my  pride ;  gluttony  is 
 a  pander  to  my  lust,  and  my  lust  a  steward 
 to  my  gluttony.  Sins  seldom  end  where 
 they  begin,  but  run  on,  till  they  be  infinite 
 and  innumerable.  Anthony  Farindon. 
 
 SIN— Obstacle  to. 
 
 The  Almighty  placed  cherubims  and  a 
 flaming  sword  to  keep  man  from  returning 
 to  Paradise,  to  the  tree  of  life;  but  He 
 has  placed  Himself  in  all  the  terror, 
 grandeur,  loveliness,  and  majesty  of  His 
 character  between  sin  and  man,  to  pre- 
 vent him  touching  the  accursed  tiling. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 SIN — Odiousness  of. 
 
 Sin  is  an  odious  thing ;  the  devil's  drivell 
 or  vomit ;  the  coi-ruption  of  a  dead  soul ; 
 the  Jilt hiness  offiesh  and  spirit. 
 
 J.  Trapp. 
 SIN— One. 
 
 If  but  one  sin  be  unsold,  the  man  con- 
 tinue still  a  bondslave  of  hell.  By  one 
 little  hole  a  ship  will  sink  into  the  bottom 
 of  the  sea.  The  stab  of  a  penknife  to  the 
 heart  will  as  well  destroy  a  man  as  all  the 
 daggers  that  killed  Caesar  in  the  senate 
 house.  The  soul  will  be  strangled  with 
 one  cord  of  vanity,  as  well  as  with  all  the 
 cart-ropes  of  iniquity  ;  only  the  more  sins, 
 the  more  plagues  and  fiercer  flames  in  hell; 
 but  he  that  lives  and  dies  impenitent  in 
 one,  it  will  be  his  destruction.  One  dram 
 of  poison  will  dispatch  a  man,  and  one 
 reigning  sin  will  bring  him  to  endless 
 misery.  R.  Bolton. 
 
 SIN— of  One  Nature. 
 
 Sin  is  of  one  nature  all  the  world  over ; 
 for  though  a  liar  is  not  a  drunkard,  nor  a 
 swearer  a  whoremonger,  nor  either  pro- 
 perly a  murderer,  yet  they  are  all  of  a 
 church,  all  branches  of  the  one  wicked  root, 
 all  of  kin ;  they  have  but  one  father,  the 
 devil,  as  Christ  said  to  the  professing  Jews, 
 the  visible  Chm-ch  of  that  age ;  He  slighted 
 their  claims  to  Aljraham  and  Moses,  and 
 plainly  told  them,  "That  he  that  com- 
 mitteth  sin,  was  the  servant  of  sin." 
 
 W.  Fenn. 
 SIN — Permission  of. 
 
 The  eff"orts  of  men  to  explain  this  throws 
 no  more  light  upon  it  than  a  candle  upon 
 a  widely  extended  landscape  veiled  in  mists 
 and  wrapped  in  midnight  darkness. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 SIN— Pleasures  of. 
 
 The  Persian  king  gave  Themistocles  a 
 goodly  pension,  assigning  Magnesia,  with 
 the  revenue  of  fifty  talents  for  his  bread, 
 Iwimpsacum  for  his  wine,  and  Myos  for  his 
 
SIN. 
 
 791 
 
 meat;  but  all  the  while  he  fed  high  and 
 drunk  deep,  he  was  infinitely  afflicted  and 
 cveiytliing-  went  cross  to  his  undertaking, 
 and  he  could  not  Lring  his  ends  about  to 
 betray  his  country;  and  at  last  he  mingled 
 poison  with  his  wine  and  drank  it  off, 
 having  first  entreated  his  friends  to  steal 
 for  him  a  private  grave  in  his  own  country. 
 Such  are  the  pleasures  of  the  most  pompous 
 and  flattering  of  sins;  their  meat  and 
 drink  are  good  and  pleasant  at  first,  and 
 it  is  plenteous  and  criminal ;  but  its  em- 
 ployment is  base,  it  is  so  against  a  man's 
 interest,  and  against  wliat  is,  and  ought  to 
 be,  dearest  to  him,  that  he  cannot  persuade 
 his  better  parts  to  consent,  but  must  fight 
 against  them  and  all  their  arguments. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 The  pleasures  of  sin  say  unto  us  as  Jael 
 said  to  Sisera,  Turn  in  my  lord,  turn  in  to 
 me,  fear  not ;  and  if  we  ask  water,  they 
 will  give  us  milk,  and  bring  butter  in  a 
 lordly  dish ;  but  when  we  are  turned  in, 
 they  (as  she  did  Sisera)  cover  us  with  a 
 mantle,  and  finding  us  (by  their  luUings) 
 to  fall  ftist  asleep,  they  put  their  hand  to 
 the  nails,  and  their  right  hand  to  the  work- 
 man's hannner,  and  with  this  hammer  they 
 smite  us,  piercing  and  striking  through 
 our  temples;  at  their  feet  we  bow,  we 
 fall ;  where  we  bow,  there  we  fall  down 
 dead  (Judges  iv,  18,  19;  v,  25,  26,  27). 
 Their  lips  indeed  drop  like  the  honey- 
 comb, and  their  mouth  is  smoother  than 
 oil ;  but  their  end  is  bitter  as  wormwood, 
 sharp  as  a  two-edged  sword,  their  feet  go 
 down  to  death,  and  their  steps  take  hold 
 on  hell  (Pi-ov.  v,  3 — 5).  With  much  fair 
 speech  tliey  cause  us  to  yield,  with  the 
 flattering  of  their  lips  they  force  us,  and 
 little  think  we,  that  we  go  as  an  ox  to  the 
 slaughter,  and  as  a  fool  to  the  stocks,  till  a 
 dart  strike  through  our  liver,  as  a  bird 
 hasteth  to  the  snare,  and  knoweth  not 
 that  it  is  for  his  life  (Prov.  vii,  21—2.3). 
 
 Venning. 
 SIN— Poison  of. 
 
 Sin  is  a  basilisk  whose  eyes  are  full  of 
 venom  ;  if  the  eye  of  thy  soul  see  her  first, 
 it  reflects  her  own  poison  and  kills  her ;  if 
 she  see  thy  soul,  unseen,  or  seen  too  late, 
 with  her  poison  she  kills  thee ;  since, 
 therefore,  thou  canst  not  escape  thy  sin, 
 let  not  thy  sin  escape  thy  observation. 
 
 Quarles. 
 SIN— Profitlessness  of. 
 
 Walking  in  the  country,  I  went  into  a 
 barn,  where  I  found  a  thresher  at  his 
 work.  I  addressed  him  in  the  words  of 
 Solomon,  "  My  friend,  in  all  labour  there 
 is  profit !"  But  what  was  my  surprise, 
 when,  leaning  on  his  flail,  he  answered, 
 and  with  much  energy,  "Ko,  Sir;  that  is 
 
 the  truth,  but  there  is  one  exception  to  it : 
 I  have  long  laboured  in  the  service  of  sin, 
 but  I  got  no  profit  by  my  labour."  "  Then," 
 answered  I,  "you  know  somewhat  of  the 
 Apostle's  meaning  when  he  asked,  Whut 
 fruit  had  ye  in  those  things  tvhereof  ye  are 
 noiu  ashamed?"  "Thank  God,"  he  re- 
 plied, "  I  do;  and  I  also  know,  that  now, 
 being  freed  from  sin,  and  having  become  a 
 servant  unto  righteousness,  I  have  my 
 fruit  unto  holiness,  and  the  end  everlasting 
 life."  W.  Jay. 
 
 SIN — Providence  in  regard  to. 
 
 If  you  ask,  how  far  God's  providence  is 
 concerned  about  sin :  we  reply,  that  it  is 
 concerned  about  it  four  ways:  First,  in 
 morally  hindering  the  internal  commission 
 of  it  before  it  is  committed.  Secondly,  in 
 providentially  hindering  (at  times)  the  ex- 
 ternal commission  of  it,  when  it  has  been 
 intentionally  committed.  Thirdly,  in  mark- 
 ing, bounding,  and  overruling  it,  wliile  it 
 is  committed.  And,  fourthly,  in  bringing 
 about  means  of  properly  pardoning  or 
 exemplarily  punishing  it,  after  it  has  been 
 committed.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 SIN— Punishment  of. 
 
 It  is  not  only  justice  to  the  law  that  re- 
 quires punishment  of  its  transgression  by 
 the  monarch,  but  love  to  the  peace,  purity, 
 and  honour  of  t!ie  subjects  of  his  kingdom. 
 It  is  not  only  justice  to  the  father's  au- 
 thority that  requires  and  leads  him  to 
 chastise  his  sou  for  disobedience,  but  love 
 to  the  rest  of  the  family,  that  they  may 
 not  imitate  his  sin  nor  be  corrupted  by  it. 
 So  with  God.  He  punishes  sin,  not  only 
 upon  principles  of  justice,  but  upon  the 
 ground  of  love.  John  Bate. 
 
 SIN— Kemorse  of. 
 
 It  is  said  that  on  the  wall  of  one  of  the 
 Egyptian  pyramids  is  written,  "The  im- 
 pious  shall  commit  iniquity  without  recom- 
 pense, but  not  without  remorse."  Does 
 not  this  ancient  inscription  of  heathenism 
 receive  its  corroboration  from  the  Scrip- 
 tures, and  the  experience  of  every  sinner 
 in  the  present  day  ?  Ibid. 
 
 SIN — Eepulsiveness  of. 
 
 To  one  capable  of  appreciating  moral 
 beauty,  sin  is  discord,  disorder,  deformity ; 
 horrible  is  a  boy  growing  into  a  villain,  "or 
 a  full-grown  villain  maturing  into  a  devil ; 
 beautiful,  a  youth  rising  up  to  virtuous 
 manhood,  or  a  man  ripening  into  an  angel 
 of  God.  As  a  mansion  forsaken  of  man 
 and  occupied  with  serpents  and  wild  beasts, 
 so,  to  a  pure  eye,  is  a  sinful  soul. 
 
 Dr.  Thomson. 
 
 SIN — the  Same  Everywhere. 
 
 There  is  a  plague,  we  will  say,  in  London, 
 
792  S] 
 
 which  is  cutting  down  a  thousand  in  a  day. 
 yien  think  aud  speak  of  it  as  an  awful 
 scourge.  But  you  are  at  Bath,  or  Carlisle, 
 sick  with  the  plague,  alone,  and  you  are 
 ready  to  die.  There  is  no  ditlerence 
 between  your  plague  and  the  plague  in 
 London.  All  the  symptoms  which  the 
 thousand  victims  in  London  have,  you 
 exhibit ;  but  you  are  not  in  a  community 
 where  the  disease  is  triumphant.  But  it 
 IS  killing  you ;  it  does  no  more  in  London, 
 only  that  it  has  gained  the  upper  hand, 
 and  puts  the  inhabitants  to  flight. 
 
 In  like  manner,  sin,  disobedience  to 
 God,  and  the  dislike  of  Him  from  which  it 
 springs,  is  the  same  in  substance  every- 
 where. If  we  dislike  God,  His  attributes, 
 His  requirements,  His  prohibitions,  and  if 
 infinite  mischief  is  not  the  consequence,  it 
 is  because  our  influence  is  hemmed  in  and 
 overruled ;  just  as  we  might  have  a  con- 
 tagious disorder,  and  yet  such  preventives 
 be  employed  as  would  keep  it  from  doing 
 much  harm.  If.  Adams. 
 
 SIN — Striving  against. 
 
 Where  are  the  heroes  "  who  resist  unto 
 blood  striving  against  sin  ?"  Should  we 
 weep  or  laugh  at  the  foolishness  of  man- 
 kind, childishly  spending  their  indignation 
 and  force  against  petty  evils,  and  main- 
 taining a  friendly  peace  with  the  fell  and 
 mighty  principle  of  destruction.  It  is 
 just  as  if  men  of  professed  courage,  em- 
 ployed to  go  and  find  and  destroy  a  tiger 
 or  a  crocodile  that  has  spread  alarm  or 
 havoc,  on  being  asked  at  their  return, 
 "  Have  you  done  the  deed  ?"  should  reply, 
 "  We  have  not  indeed  destroyed  the  tiger 
 or  crocodile,  but  yet  we  have  acted  he- 
 roically; we  have  achieved  something 
 great,  we  have  killed  a  wasp."  Or,  like 
 men  engaged  to  exterminate  a  den  of 
 murderers,  who  being  asked  at  their  re- 
 turn, "  Have  you  accomplished  the  venge- 
 ance ?"  should  say,  "  We  have  not  de- 
 stroyed any  of  the  luurderers ;  we  did  not 
 deem  it  worth  while  to  attempt  itj  but, 
 we  have  lamed  one  of  their  dogs." 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 SIN— Temporal  Evils  of. 
 
 It  is  the  Trojan-horse,  it  hath  sword  and 
 famine,  and  pestilence  in  the  belly  of  it. 
 Sin  is  a  coal,  that  not  only  blacks  but 
 burns.  Sin  creates  all  our  troubles;  it 
 puts  gravel  into  our  bread,  wormwood  in 
 our  cup.  Sin  rots  the  name,  consumes  the 
 estate,  buries  relations.  Sin  shoots  the 
 flaying  roll  of  God's  curses  into  a  family 
 and  kingdom  (Zech.  v,  4).  It  is  reported 
 of  Phocas,  having  built  a  wall  of  mighty 
 strength  about  his  city,  there  was  a  voice 
 heard,  "  Sin  is  in  the  city,  and  that  will 
 throw  down  the  wall."  T.  Watson. 
 
 SIN —Tendency  of. 
 
 As  they  say  of  true  holiness  and  Chris- 
 tianity,  Christi  sarcina  pennas  habet — 
 Christ's  burden,  which  is  nothing  else  but 
 true  godliness,  is  a  winged  thing,  and 
 bravely  bears  itself  upwards  upon  its  own 
 wings,  soaring  aloft  towards  God;  so  we 
 may  say  of  all  impiety,  diaholi  sarcina 
 fondus  hahet — the  devilish  nature  is  always 
 within  the  central  attractions  of  hell,  and 
 its  own  weight  instigates  and  accelerates 
 its  motion  thither.  John  Smith. 
 
 SIN— Training  of. 
 
 The  evil  spirit  called  sin  may  be  trained 
 up  to  politeness,  and  made  to  be  genteel 
 sin ;  it  may  be  elegant,  cultivated  sin ;  it 
 may  be  very  exclusive  and  fashionable  sin ; 
 it  may  be  industrious,  thrifty  sin;  it  may 
 be  a  great  political  manager,  a  great  com- 
 mercial operator,  a  great  inventor  ;  it  may 
 be  learned,  scientific,  eloquent,  higlily 
 poetic  siu !  still  it  is  sin,  and,  being  that, 
 has,  in  fact,  the  same  radical  or  funda- 
 mental quality  that,  in  its  ranker  and  less 
 restrained  conditions,  produces  all  the  most 
 hideous  and  revolting  crimes  of  the  world. 
 Dr.  Bushnell. 
 SIN— Tyranny  of. 
 
 When  sin  is  let  in  as  a  suppliant,  it  re- 
 mains as  a  tyrant.  The  Arabs  have  a  fable 
 of  a  miller  who  w^as  one  day  startled  by  a 
 camel's  nose  thrust  in  the  window  of  the 
 room  where  he  was  sleeping.  "  It  is  very 
 cold  outside,"  said  the  camel,  "  I  only  want 
 to  get  my  nose  in."  The  nose  was  let  in, 
 then  the  neck,  and  finally  the  whole  body. 
 Presently  the  miller  began  to  be  extremely 
 inconvenienced  at  the  ungainly  companion 
 he  had  obtained  in  a  i-oom  certainly  not 
 large  enough  to  hold  both.  "  If  you  are 
 inconvenienced,  you  may  leave,"  said  the 
 camel ;  "  as  for  myself,  I  shall  stay  where 
 I  am."  John  Bate. 
 
 Tyranny  is  always  obnoxious  to  its  vic- 
 tim. Bnt  you  would  feel  it  to  be  the 
 worst  of  all  tyranny,  to  be  all  but  intole- 
 rable, if  your  tyrant  resided  constantly  in 
 your  own  family  circle,  obtruding  his  hate- 
 ful surveillance,  his  despotic  interference, 
 into  your  most  secret  hours  of  retirement. 
 But  here,  surely,  is  a  worse  tyranny  still; 
 when  the  tyrant  follows  you,  not  merely 
 to  your  home,  to  the  domestic  circle,  to 
 the  closet,  but  penetrates  your  own  breast, 
 and  resides  perpetually  within  your  own 
 bosom.  And  yet  how  certain  is  it  that 
 a  pampered  appetite,  an  ungovernable  pas- 
 sion, does  wield  such  a  tyrannous  sway 
 over  the  soul !  Is  it  not  the  case,  may  we 
 not  say  to  such  an  one,  that  Conscience, 
 Duty,  Sense  of  Right,  that  in  you  which 
 ought  to  rule  your  being,  has  been  ener- 
 vated  and   enfeebled,   and  bereft    of   all 
 
snr. 
 
 793 
 
 power  to  govern  your  conduct  ?  Have  not 
 a  fierce  democracy  of  lusts  and  passions 
 driven  conscience  from  its  throne  within 
 your  breast  ?  Do  you  not  feel  that  they, 
 and  not  you,  are  the  masters  ?  That  when 
 temptation  comes  in  its  strength,  though 
 you  see  what  is  right,  you  cannot  resist 
 it  ?  Over  your  own  tlioughts  and  desires, 
 your  own  will  and  working,  is  it  not  so 
 that  often  you  have  no  more  command 
 than  the  sea  over  its  waters,  or  forest  trees 
 over  their  motions,  as  they  bend  to  the 
 blast  ?  Caird. 
 
 SIIT — Universal. 
 
 The  existence  of  sin ;  of  sin,  as  an  ac- 
 knowledged fact — of  sin  as  an  acknow- 
 ledged evil  which  has  not  only  tainted  the 
 nature,  but  which  has  poured  its  corrup- 
 tion upon  every  part  of  every  man  ;  found 
 everywhere,  alike  in  the  crowded  city 
 streets,  and  among  the  scantier  tribes  of 
 the  Savannah  ;  alike  where  refiuement  and 
 civilisation  gild  and  softan  crime,  and 
 where  in  the  swarthy  bearded  Druse  it 
 reigns  tameless  as  the  pennon  that  flutters 
 upon  the  lance  of  his  djeereed ;  alike  in 
 sordid  man  and  lost  woman,  in  generous 
 youth  and  smiling  babe — in  all  circum- 
 stances,  in  all  countries,  in  all  parallels  of 
 latitude,  in  all  diversities  of  language, 
 there  is  no  escape,  and  there  is  no  excep- 
 tion from  this  disastrous  uniformity  of  evil. 
 The  fountfi.in  has  been  corrupted,  and  the 
 streams  of  necessity  must  flow  polluted 
 and  impure.  Every  mouth  must  be  stopped, 
 for  all  the  world  is  guilty  before  God. 
 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 SIN — Unpardonable. 
 
 We  would  have  you  observe  most  care- 
 fully that  it  cannot  be  the  greatness  of  the 
 sin  which  strikes  out  its  perpetrator  from 
 pardon.  If  you  would  not  limit  or  deny 
 the  virtues  of  Christ's  sacrifice,  you  must 
 hold  that  the  sin  cannot  be  connnitted 
 which  in  itself  is  too  great  to  be  pardoned. 
 It  were  to  shake  the  whole  fabric  of  the 
 atonement  to  suppose  that  a  man's  guilt 
 may  exceed  the  efficacy  of  the  one  great 
 propitiation.  Find  me  an  offence  too  great 
 to  be  pardoned,  and  you  find  me  an  argu- 
 ment with  which  to  undermine  the  whole 
 Christian  system.  And  yet  it  is  certain 
 that  Scripture  speaks  of  an  unpardonable 
 sin,  so  that  some  kind  or  degree  of  offence 
 excludes  from  forgiveness.  Let  us  see  how 
 these  statements  may  be  reconciled.  Christ 
 Jesus,  by  His  death,  made  all  sin  capable 
 of  forgiveness,  provided  the  sinner  put 
 faith  in  His  sacrifice.  Hence  there  is  no 
 sin  for  which  the  Gospel  does  not  proffer 
 pardon,  if  he  who  have  committed  it  repent 
 and  believe  in  Christ.  But  if  the  sin  con- 
 sist in  rejection  of  the  Gospel,  there  has 
 been  no  provision  for  this — this  from  the 
 
 very  nature  of  the  case,  is  not  included  in 
 what  shall  be  forgiven,  because  it  is  the 
 refusal  of  the  alone  mode  of  forgiveness. 
 For,  if  the  Bible  be  true,  there  is  but  one 
 way  in  which  sin  can  be  pardoned,  and  no 
 sin  the  pardon  of  which,  if  sought  in  that 
 way,  can  fail  to  be  obtained.  This  one 
 way,  as  you  are  aware,  is  by  the  virtues  of 
 Christ's  death,  appropriated  by  repentance 
 aud  faith.  But  let  this  one  way  be  re- 
 jected j  let,  that  is,  the  sin  consist  in  putting 
 deliberately  from  us  the  alone  provided 
 remedy,  and  of  course  it  is  unpardonable ; 
 not  because  too  aggravated  to  be  pardoned, 
 but  because  its  very  essence  is  the  rejection 
 of  the  only  method  of  pardon.  The  disease 
 is  incurable,  not  because  too  inveterate  for 
 a  remedy,  but  because  it  consists  in  throw- 
 ing the  remedy  away.  And  thus  we  be- 
 lieve, that  deliberate  and  determined  re- 
 jection of  the  Christian  religion,  such  as 
 was  that  of  the  men  who,  when  the  last 
 crowning  evidence  was  given,  refused  to 
 be  convinced  by  the  manifestations  of  the 
 Spirit,  is  the  single  sin  for  which  no 
 pardon  is  provided  or  promised.  Ay,  and 
 we  believe  that  even  this  sin  is  unpar- 
 donable only  through  its  own  nature — 
 only  through  its  consisting  in  a  rejection 
 of  pardon.  S.  Melvill. 
 
 SIN  (Unpardonable)— Pardonable. 
 
 If  we  may  assert  what  will  sound  like 
 contradiction,  the  yery  man  who  has  com- 
 mitted the  unpardonable  sin  may  yet  be 
 pardoned.  There  is  no  impossil)ility  against 
 his  pardon,  for  whilst  he  lives  we  have  no 
 right  to  pronounce  it  impossible  that  he 
 should  repent  and  acknowledge  Christ; 
 and  if  he  repent  and  acknowledge  Christ, 
 the  whole  Bible  is  our  warrant  that  he  will 
 be  forgiven,  that  he  will  be  saved.  It  is 
 not  that  there  is  not  virtue  in  the  oblation 
 of  the  Lamb  of  God  to  take  away  the 
 guiltiness  of  infidelity,  or,  what  is  a  vast 
 deal  more  aggravated,  the  guiltiness  of 
 apostaoy.  It  is  only  that  infidelity  and 
 apostacy  by  their  very  nature  place  the 
 deepest  of  all  gulfs  between  the  sinner 
 and  the  Redeemer,  so  separating  the  two 
 that,  upon  all  human  calculation,  it  seems 
 impossible  that  they  should  come  into 
 union.  We  know  that  no  man  can  turn 
 unto  Christ  except  through  the  influence 
 of  the  Spirit  of  God.  If,  then,  a  man  hath 
 so  withstood  this  Divine  agent  as  to  pro- 
 voke the  being  left  to  himself;  if  he  have 
 blasphemed  and  vilified  the  Spirit  so  as  to 
 have  quenched  it,  we  may  fairly  declare  of 
 this  man  that  he  has  committed  the  un- 
 pardonable sin  ;  and  yet  not  because  his 
 sin  is  too  heinous  for  the  provided  expiation, 
 but  only  because  it  consists  in  wearing  out 
 and  alienating  that  Celestial  Being  who 
 alone  can  enable  us  to  appropriate  the 
 e.\piation.     We  do  not  pronounce  it  im- 
 
(Qi 
 
 SIN— SIN  AND  HELL. 
 
 possiljle  that  tliis  man  should  be  forgiven ; 
 not,  at  least,  in  one  sense,  if  it  be  in 
 another.  He  is  still  a  living  thing — a 
 thing  with  a  heart — a  thing  with  a  con- 
 science ;  the  sun  yet  rises  upon  him  ;  the 
 earth  yet  yields  him  its  fruits ;  the  minis- 
 trations of  the  Gospel  are  yet  going  for- 
 ward around  him  ;  and  therefore  we  do  not 
 pronounce  his  pardon  impossible.  We  know 
 that  a  man's  sentence  is  never  indelibly 
 written  before  his  death.  I  must  know 
 that  the  last  sun  has  risen  upon  an  in- 
 dividual, or  rather  that  the  pulse  is  at  its 
 last  beat ;  and  yet  that  the  heart  retains  all 
 its  obduracy  and  callousness,  ere  I  can  feel 
 in  regard  of  this  individual  that  he  has 
 hopelessly  departed,  and  that  there  is  no 
 possibility  of  bringing  him  within  the 
 border  line  of  mercy.  S.  MelvlU. 
 
 SIN— "Wages  of. 
 
 "  The  wages  op  sin  is  death."  Rome 
 say,  The  wages  of  sin  is  conscience;  some 
 The  wages  of  sin  is  discipline ;  some.  The 
 wages  of  sin  is  imprisonment  for  a  great 
 iudednite  jjeriod  for  the  purpose  of  punish- 
 ment and  restoration.  Let  us  adhere  to 
 the  Bible:  "The  wages  of  sin  is  death." 
 If  you  call  it  figurative,  the  laws  of  rhetoric 
 teach  us  that  a  meaning  totally  opposite 
 to  the  nature  of  a  figure  cannot  be  true. 
 The  ruling  idea  conveyed  by  the  word 
 death  is  termination.  If  you  search  the 
 Bible  for  instances  in  vvJiich  death  means  a 
 limited  infliction,  and  so  reduce  one  side 
 of  the  equation  in  tlie  passage  from  which 
 the  text  is  taken,  you  must,  by  necessity, 
 reduce  the  other  side,  and  thus,  so  much 
 as  you  diminish  death,  you  must  diminish 
 life,  for  if  death  be  not  death,  neither  is 
 life  eternal  life. 
 
 Notice  also  the  two  contrasted  words  in 
 the  verse  from  which  the  text  is  taken ; 
 "  The  wages  of  sin  is  death  ;  but  the  gift 
 of  God  is  eternal  life,  through  Jesus  Christ 
 our  Lord."  Death  for  sin  is  "  wages  "— 
 something  earned  or  merited.  Eternal 
 life  is  not  "  wages  "  to  us;  it  is  to  angels. 
 The  law  is  the  angels'  gospel.  They  stand 
 by  .obedience.  But  to  us  eternal  life,  if 
 we  have  it,  is  without  works — a  gift,  un- 
 merited, free.  Having  forfeited  heaven  by 
 sin,  God  stands  ready  to  give  it  to  us  on 
 certain  terms ;  the  terms  and  method  them- 
 selves being  no  less  wonderful  than  the  gift. 
 N.  Adams. 
 SIN— Work  of. 
 
 Sin  wastes  and  wears  out  the  vigour  of 
 soul  and  body ;  feeds  upon  all  our  time 
 and  strength,  and  exhausts  it  into  the 
 services  of  lust.  Sickness  is  a  chargeable 
 thing  ;  a  consumption  at  once  to  the  per- 
 son and  to  the  estate.  The  poor  woman 
 in  the  Gospel,  which  had  an  issue  of  blood, 
 "  spent  all  that  she  had  on  physicians,  aud 
 
 was  never  the  better;" — so  poor  sinners 
 empty  all  the  powers  of  soul,  of  body,  of 
 time,  of  estate,  everything  within  their 
 reach,  upon  their  lusts ;  and  are  as  un- 
 satisfied at  last  as  at  the  first  (Eccles.  i,  8). 
 Like  a  silkworm,  which  works  out  his  own 
 bowels  into  such  a  mass  wherein  himself 
 is  buried,  it  weareth  them  out,  and  sucketh 
 away  the  radical  strength  in  the  service  of 
 it,  and  yet  never  giveth  them  over ;  but  as 
 Pharaoh's  taskmasters  exacted  the  brick 
 when  they  had  taken  away  the  straw,  so 
 lust  doth  consume  and  weaken  natural 
 strength,  in  the  obedience  of  it ;  and  yet 
 when  nature  is  exhausted,  the  strength  of 
 lust  is  as  great,  and  the  commands  as 
 tyrannous  as  ever  before  (Isai.  Ivii,  10; 
 Jer.  ii,  25).  We  are  to  distinguish  between 
 the  vital  force  of  the  faculties,  and  the 
 activity  of  lust  which  sets  them  on  work, 
 that  decays  and  hastens  to  death  ;  but  sin 
 retains  its  strength  and  vigour  still; 
 nothing  kills  that  but  the  blood  of  Christ, 
 and  the  decay  of  nature  ariseth  out  of  the 
 strength  of  sin.  The  more  any  man,  in 
 any  lust  whatsoever,  makes  himself  a  ser- 
 vant of  sin,  and  the  more  busy  and  active 
 he  is  in  that  service,  the  more  will  it  eat 
 into  him  and  consume  him ;  as  the  hotter 
 the  fever  is,  the  sooner  is  the  body  wasted 
 aud  dried  up  by  it.  J3j>.  Itegnolds. 
 
 SIN  AND  AFFLICTION. 
 
 The  Ermyn  rather  chooseth  to  die  than 
 defile  her  beautifid  skin.  There  is  more 
 evil  in  a  drop  of  sin  than  in  a  sea  of 
 affliction ;  affliction  is  but  like  a  rent  in  a 
 coat,  sin  a  prick  at  the  heart.  In  affliction 
 there  is  some  good ;  in  this  lion  thei-e  is 
 some  honey  to  be  found.  "  It  is  good  for 
 me  that  1  was  afflicted"  (Psa.  cxix,  71). 
 St.  Augustine  saith,  "  Affliction  is  God's 
 flail  to  thresh  oft'  our  husks ;  not  to  con- 
 sume but  refine."  There  is  no  good  in 
 sin,  it  is  the  spirit  and  quintessence  of 
 evil.  Sin  is  worse  than  hell ;  for  the  pains 
 of  hell  only  are  a  burden  to  the  creature ; 
 but  sin  is  a  burden  to  God.  "  I  am  pressed 
 under  your  iniquities,  as  a  cart  is  pressed 
 under  the  sheaves  "  (Amos  ii,  13). 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 SIN  AND  HELL. 
 
 Sin  and  hell  are  so  twined  and  twisted 
 up  together,  that  if  the  power  of  sin  be 
 once  dissolved,  the  bonds  of  death  and  hell 
 will  also  fall  asunder.  Sin  and  hell  are  of 
 the  same  kind,  of  the  same  lineage  and 
 descent ;  as,  on  the  other  side,  true  holiness 
 or  religion,  and  true  happiness,  are  but 
 two  several  notions  of  one  thing,  rather 
 than  distinct  in  themselves.  Religion  de- 
 livers us  from  hell,  by  instating  us  in  a 
 possession  of  true  life  and  bliss.  Hell  is 
 rather  a  nature  than  a  place ;  and  heaven 
 cannot  be   so  truly  defined  by  auyth.ng 
 
SIN  AND  REMORSE— SINNER. 
 
 795 
 
 without  us,  as  by  something  that  is  witli- 
 in  us.  John  Smith. 
 
 SIN  AND  REMORSE. 
 
 Sin   and  hedgehogs   are  horn   without 
 spikes,  but  how  they  prick  and  wound  after 
 
 their  birth  we  all  know. 
 
 Eichter. 
 
 SINNER— Desperate. 
 
 Like  the  gambler  who  hath  lost  at  one 
 venture  nearly  all  his  property,  and  thinks 
 he  may  risk  the  remainder,  being  so  small ; 
 the  desperate  sinner,  feeling  that  he  hath 
 lost  his  peace  of  conscience,  acts  as  if  the 
 commission  of  farther  crimes  would  make 
 him  no  worse  than  he  really  is. 
 
 Dr.  McCosh. 
 
 SINNER— Divine  Drawing  of  the. 
 He  on  the  rock  may  bid  us  stand,  and  see 
 The  outskirts  of  His  march  of  mystery. 
 His  endless  warfare  with  man's  wilful 
 heart ;  [shows ; 
 
 First,  His  great  power  He  to  the  sinner 
 Lo !  at  His  angry  blast  the  rocks  unclose. 
 And  to  their  base  the  trembling  moun- 
 tains part. 
 
 Yet  the  Lord  is  not  here :  'tis  not  by  power 
 He  will  be  known — but  darker  tempests 
 lower ;  [ground : 
 
 Still,  sullen  heavings  vex  the  labouring 
 Perhaps  His  Presence  thro'  aU  depth  and 
 height,    .  [light. 
 
 Best  of  all  gems,  that  deck  His  crown  of 
 The  haughty  eye  may  dazzle  and  con- 
 found, 
 
 God  is  not  in  the  earthquake  j  but  behold 
 
 From  Sinai's  caves  are  bursting,  as  of  old. 
 
 The  flames  of  His  consuming  jealous  ire. 
 
 Woe  to  the  sinner,  should  stern  Justice 
 
 prove 
 His  cliosen  attribute ; — but  He  in  love 
 Hri'-tes  to  proclaim,  "God  is  not  in  the 
 fire." 
 
 The  storm  is  o'er — and  hark  !  a  still  small 
 
 voice. 
 Steals  on  the  ear,  to  say,  Jehovah's  choice 
 Is  ever  with  the  soft,  meek,  tender  soul ; 
 By  soft,  meek,  tender  ways  He  loves   to 
 
 draw 
 The  sinner,  startled  by  His  ways  of  awe  : 
 H<>re  is  our  Lord,  and  not  where  thun- 
 ders roll.  Keble. 
 
 SINNER— Folly  of  the. 
 
 Sin  is  the  greatest  folly,  and  the  sinner 
 the  greatest  fool  iii  the  world.  There  is 
 no  such  madness  in  the  most  pitiful  lunacy. 
 Think  of  a  man  risking  eternity,  and  his 
 evei'lasting  happiness,  on  the  uncertain 
 chance  of  surviving  another  year.  Think 
 of  a  man  purchasing  a  momentary  plea- 
 sure at  the  cost  of  endless  pain.  Think 
 of  a  dying  man  scorning  a  Saviour's  love. 
 
 Think  of  a  man  braving  the  wrath  of  God. 
 Think  of  a  man  rejecting  an  immortal 
 crown.  What  convert  to  God  can  review  his 
 life,  and  look  back  upon  his  unconverted 
 state,  without  saying  with  David,  "  Lord, 
 I  was  as  a  beast  before  Thee." 
 
 Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 SINNER— in  a  Holy  Church. 
 
 As  a  wen  looks  worse  on  a  face  of  beauty, 
 and  a  skull  on  a  bank  of  snow,  so  a  sinner 
 in  a  holy  church,  most  uncomely  and  loath- 
 some. Ibid. 
 
 SINNER— Position  of  a. 
 
 How  critical  the  position  of  a  serious  re' 
 fleeting  sinner  !  He  stands  upon  the  sum- 
 mit of  a  hill,  pondering  which  side  he  will 
 descend.  It  is  said  that  the  waters  of  the 
 Missouri  and  Columbia  rivers  originate 
 within  a  few  yards  of  each  other,  upon  the 
 top  of  the  Rocky  mountains.  As  the  rain 
 descends  upon  that  lofty  point,  how  slight 
 a  breath  of  air  from  east  to  west  will  waft 
 the  drops  to  one  side  or  the  other ;  but 
 when  they  have  commenced  their  down- 
 ward course  upon  the  mountain  side,  how 
 hard  to  arrest  their  progress.  They  mingle 
 with  other  streams,  dashing  and  foaming 
 over  precipices,  and  through  dark  ravines, 
 till  they  are  merged  in  the  deep  current  of 
 a  mighty  river,  rolling  with  resistless  power 
 towards  the  ocean.  Those  upon  the  west 
 side  are  borne  out  to  be  rocked  upon  the 
 ever-heaving  bosom  of  the  broad  and  calm 
 Pacific.  Those  upon  the  east,  are  hurled 
 into  the  raging  billows  of  the  stormy  At- 
 lantic, to  be  made  the  sport  of  a  thousand 
 tempests.  At  their  commencement,  how- 
 near  and  how  much  alike  ;  but  in  their  end 
 how  widely  separated  ! 
 
 Impenitent  friend,  in  whose  bosom  a 
 faithful  monitor  is  now  heard,  saying, 
 "  Listen  to  the  voice  of  wisdom ;  enter, 
 while  you  may,  the  gate  of  life,"  it  may 
 be  that  you  now  stand  upon  the  top  of 
 that  mountain.  On  the  one  side  of  you, 
 far  out  of  sight,  lies  the  ocean  of  God's 
 love,  with  which  the  river  of  life  is  con- 
 nected—  an  ocean  shoreless,  cloudless, 
 pacific;  on  the  other  side,  the  foaming 
 billows  of  His  wrath,  equally  shoreless,  sun- 
 less, tempestuous;  and  a  muddy  stream 
 rushes  from  your  feet  into  that  bottomless 
 abyss.  A  breath  may  convey  you  now  to 
 one  of  these  streams  or  the  other.  A  heed- 
 less word,  a  look,  a  laugh,  a  sneer,  an 
 amusement,  a  trifling  book,  a  business  call, 
 may  waft  you  to  the  declivity  towards  that 
 boisterous  ocean.  A  tear,  a  sigh,  a  kind 
 word,  a  pressure  of  the  hand  of  Christian 
 sympathy,  a  verse  of  the  Bible,  a  page 
 of  pious  reading,  under  the  blessing  of  the 
 Spirit,  may  bear  you  to  the  other  side.  O, 
 beware,  for  your  soul's  sake  beware,  to 
 what  infiuences  you  yield  at  this  moment. 
 
r96 
 
 SINNER— SI^NE£S. 
 
 Decide  for  God  nnd  lieaven  while  you  may. 
 Embark  upon  that  river  of  life,  and  drink 
 of  its  soul-refreshing  waters.  Linger  not 
 on  that  fearful  summit,  where  one  step 
 may  plunge  you  into  that  tide  whose  dark 
 waters  will  bear  you  to  a  hopeless,  return- 
 less  distance  from  God,  from  peace,  from 
 heaven !  Anon. 
 
 SINNER— Sleepy. 
 
 Two  or  three  miles  above  the  falls  of 
 Niagara,  an  Indian  canoe  was  one  day  ob- 
 served floating  quietly  along,  with  its 
 paddle  upon  its  side.  At  first  it  was  sup- 
 posed to  be  empty ;  no  cne  could  imagine 
 that  a  man  v.-ould  expose  himself  to  such 
 well  known  and  imminent  danger.  But  a 
 turn  in  the  current  soon  gave  the  travel- 
 lers a  sight  of  an  Indian  lying  idly  asleep 
 at  the  iDottom.  Thej'  were  shocked,  and 
 called  aloud,  but  he  did  not  hear ;  they 
 shouted  iu  an  agony  of  pity  and  alarm  ; 
 but  he  was  deaf  to  their  saving  cry.  It 
 chanced  that  the  current,  which  was  now 
 hurrying  along  with  increased  speed  as  it 
 neared  the  fatal  precipice,  drove  the  little 
 boat  against  a  point  of  rock  with  such 
 violence,  that  it  was  whirled  round  and 
 round  several  times.  He's  safe!  He's 
 safe !  cried  the  spectators;  joyfully ;  the 
 man  is  safe ;  that  shock  must  wake  him. 
 But,  alas !  no.  Fatigue,  or  drunkenness 
 (to  which  savages  are  particularly  addicted), 
 had  so  oppressed  his  senses,  that  it  seemed 
 more  like  death  than  sleep  which  held 
 him ;  it  was  indeed  the  sleep  of  death. 
 All  hope  was  gone,  and  they  hurried  along 
 the  shore  in  alarm  to  seethe  end.  It  soon 
 came,  for  the  torrent  was  now  rolling  so 
 rapidly,  that  they  could  scarcely  keep  pace 
 with  the  object  of  their  interest.  At  length 
 the  roar  of  the  water,  which  had  been 
 hitherto  almost  buried  within  the  high 
 banks  below,  by  a  sudden  change  of  the 
 wind  broke  upon  them  with  double  violence. 
 This  dreadful  noise,  with  which  the  Indian 
 ear  was  so  familiar,  did  at  last  arouse  him. 
 He  was  seen  to  start  up  and  snatch  his 
 paddle.  But  it  was  too  late;  the  same 
 dunning  sound  which  had  roused  him  from 
 insensibility,  told  him  at  the  same  time, 
 that  it  was  in  vain  to  seek  for  safety  now 
 by  rowing;  nor,  indeed,  had  he  time  to 
 try  ;  upright  as  he  stood,  he  went  over  the 
 awful  precipice,  and  the  boat  and  its  oc- 
 cupant were  seen  no  more. 
 
 J.  WMtecross. 
 
 SINNER  COMING  TO  CHRIST. 
 
 He  who  would  know  in  His  own  soul 
 Christ's  ability  to  save  must  come  to  Him ; 
 of  course  not  actually,  but  spiritually — 
 come  unto  Him  in  one  of  those  wonderful 
 translations  of  human  spirits  which  faith 
 accomplishes,  as  it  takes  them  within  the 
 veil,  and  gives  substance  to  what  is  hoped 
 
 for,  and  evidence  of  what  is  unseen — trans- 
 lations which  make  a  man,  as  Paul  says, 
 to  "see  Him  who  is  invisible;"  come  to 
 Him  as  the  needle  to  the  magnet,  drawn 
 by  the  attraction  of  His  mercy  ;  come  to 
 Him  as  the  disciple  to  the  teacher,  learn- 
 ing under  His  secret  teaching;  come  to 
 Him  as  a  patient  to  the  physician,  to  tell 
 of  agony,  and  entreat  aid  ;  come  to  Him 
 as  a  sinner  to  his  Saviour,  yearning  for 
 salvation ;  come  to  Him  as  an  angel  to  his 
 God,  reverencing,  loving,  adoring,  serving; 
 yes,  come  to  Him  spiritually,  as  Mary  did 
 personally,  sitting  at  His  feet  on  choice  of 
 the  good  part;  come  to  Him  spiritually, 
 as  Nicodemus  did  personally,  seeking  light 
 uj^on  the  inner  darkness ;  come  to  Him 
 spiritually,  as  the  penitent  woman  did 
 personally,  loving,  weeping  much,  because 
 much  had  been  forgiven  her  ;  come  to  Hira 
 spiritually,  as  John  did  personally,  leaning 
 with  the  repose  of  trust  upon  His  bosom, 
 and  feeding  upon  His  living  bread  which 
 He  gives.  C.  J.  P.  JEyre. 
 
 SINNERS— Carelessness  of. 
 
 Sinners  are  like  idle  swimmers,  that  go 
 carelessly  floating  down  the  stream,  rather 
 than  exert  themselves  to  swim  against  the 
 current  and  gain  the  bank.  They  must 
 reach  the  sea  at  last,  and  when  they  hear 
 the  breakers,  and  see  the  foaming  crests  of 
 the  waves,  they  become  alarmed,  but  it  is 
 too  late ;  the  stream  is  now  too  strong  for 
 them,  their  limbs  are  benumbed  and  ener- 
 vated from  want  of  exertion  ;  and  unfitted 
 and  unprepared,  they  are  hurried  into  the 
 ocean  of  eternity.  Anon. 
 
 Socrates  in  his  time  wondered  when  he 
 observed  statuaries,  how  careful  they  were, 
 and  how  industrious  to  make  stones  like 
 men,  and  men  in  the  mean  time  turning 
 themselves  into  very  blocks  and  stones. 
 The  case  is  ours ;  men  walk  not  as  men 
 that  have  souls  to  be  saved,  many  walk  as 
 if  they  had  nothing  but  bellies  to  fill,  and 
 backs  to  clothe,  fancies  to  be  tickled  with 
 vanity,  eyes  and  ears  to  look  after  plea- 
 sm-e,  brains  to  entertain  empty  notions, 
 and  tongues  to  utter  them ;  as  for  their 
 souls  they  serve  them  to  little  other  pur- 
 pose, than  as  salt  to  keep  their  bodies  from 
 stinking.  Spencer. 
 
 SINNERS— Comparisons  of. 
 
 The  following  are  some  of  the  phrases 
 which  the  Scriptures  use  to  set  foi-th  the 
 state  and  character  of  sinners.  They  are 
 compared  to  —  "Abominable  branches; 
 Ashes  under  the  feot ;  Bad  fishes;  Beasts; 
 the  Blind ;  Brass  and  iron ;  Briars  and 
 thorns;  Bulls  of  Bashan  ;  Carcasses  trod- 
 den under  feet;  Chaft';  Clouds  without 
 water ;  Corn  blasted  ;  Corrupt  trees ;  Deaf 
 adders;    Dogs;  Dross;    Early  dew    that 
 
passeth  away;  Evil  figs;  Fading  oaks; 
 Fiery  oven ;  Fire  of  thorns ;  Fools  build- 
 ing upon  sand ;  Fuel  of  fire  ;  Garden  with- 
 out water;  Goats;  Grass;  Grass  on  the 
 house-tops ;  Green  bay-trees ;  Green  herbs ; 
 Heath  in  the  desert ;  Horses  rushing  into 
 the  battle ;  Idols  ;  Lions  greedy  of  prey ; 
 Melting  wax ;  Morning  clouds ;  Moth- 
 eaten  garments;  Passing  whirlwinds; 
 Potsherds ;  Raging  waves  of  the  sea ; 
 Keprobate  silver ;  Scorpions  ;  Serpents  ; 
 Smoke ;  Stony  ground ;  Stubble  ;  Swine ; 
 Tares  ;  Troubled  sea  ;  Visions  of  the  night ; 
 Wandering  stars;  Wayward  children; 
 Wells  without  water ;  Whited  sepulchres ; 
 Wild  ass's  colts."  John  Bate. 
 
 SINNERS— Influence  of  Mercy  on. 
 
 We  become  worse  for  God's  mercy,  and 
 think  it  will  be  always  holiday,  and  are 
 like  the  crystal  of  Arabia,  hardened  not  by 
 cold,  but  made  crusty  and  stubborn  by  the 
 warmth  of  the  Divine  fire,  by  its  refresh- 
 ments and  mercies.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 SINNERS— Names  of. 
 
 The  Scriptures  employ  a  variety  of 
 terms  and  phrases  by  which  to  designate 
 sinners.  Of  these  the  following  is  a  se- 
 lection :  —  "  Children  of  transgression  ; 
 Children  in  whom  is  no  faith  ;  Children  of 
 this  world  ;  Children  of  pride ;  Children  of 
 fools  ;  Children  of  the  wicked  one ;  Child- 
 ren of  Belial ;  Children  of  the  devil ;  Child- 
 ren that  will  not  hear  the  law  of  the  Lord; 
 Children  that  are  corrupters ;  Cursed  child- 
 ren ;  Impudent  children ;  Lying  children  ; 
 Men  of  the  world ;  Haters  of  God ;  Gene- 
 ration of  vipers ;  Evil  generation ;  Evil 
 men ;  Enemies  of  all  righteousness ;  Evil 
 doers;  People  laden  with  iniquity;  Re- 
 bellious peoi^le ;  Rebellious  house ;  Bp- 
 bellious  children ;  Seed  of  falsehood ;  Seed  ' 
 of  evil  doers  ;  the  Scornful ;  Reprobates  ; 
 Perverse  and  crooked  generation ;  Ser- 
 pents ;  Servants  of  sin ;  Servants  of  cor- 
 ruption ;  Sinful  generation ;  Sons  of  Belial ; 
 Sottish  children  ;  Wicked  of  the  earth  ; 
 Vessels  of  wrath  ;  the  Ungodly  ;  Unprofit- 
 able servants ;  Wicked  servants  ;  Wicked 
 does ;  Workers  of  iniquity  ;  Stubborn  and 
 rebellious  generation,"  &c.         John  Bate. 
 
 SINNERS— Power  of  God  to  punish. 
 
 He  is  not  only  able  to  cast  wicked  men 
 into  hell,  but  he  can  most  easily  do  it. 
 Sometimes  an  earthly  prince  meets  with  a 
 great  deal  of  difficulty  to  subdue  a  rebel, 
 that  has  found  means  to  fortify  himself, 
 and  has  made  himself  strong  by  the  num- 
 bers of  his  followers.  But  it  is  not  so 
 ■with  God.  There  is  no  fortress  that  is  any 
 defence  from  the  power  of  God.  Though 
 Land  join  in  hand,  and  vast  multitudes  of 
 God's  enemies  combine  and  associate  them- 
 selves, they  are  easily  broken   in   pieces; 
 
 797 
 
 they  are  as  great  heaps  of  light  chaff 
 before  the  whirlwind;  or  large  quantities 
 of  dry  stubble  before  devouring  flames- 
 We  find  it  easy  to  tread  on  and  crush  a 
 worm  that  we  see  crawling  on  the  earth; 
 so  it  is  easy  for  us  to  cut  or  singe  a  slender 
 thread  that  anything  hangs  by  ;  thus  easy 
 is  it  for  God,  when  He  pleases,  to  cast  His 
 enemies  down  to  hell.  What  are  we,  that 
 we  should  think  to  stand  before  Him  at 
 whose  rebuke  the  earth  trembles,  and 
 before  whom  the  rocks  are  thrown  down  ? 
 Jonathan  Edwards. 
 SINNERS— Secure. 
 
 There  are  two  sorts  of  secure  sinners; 
 those  who  vaunt  it  in  the  confidence  of 
 their  own  righteousness ;  and  those  who 
 are  secure  through  an  insensibility  of  their 
 own  wickedness.  B]}.  Mo^pJcins. 
 
 SINNERS— Solitude  of. 
 
 Their  closet  is  empty,  and  they  are  un- 
 able to  say  anything  to  us  of  the  "  Friend 
 of  solitude,"  nothing  of  His  open  ear  for 
 their  complaints,  nor  of  His  open  bosom 
 for  their  cares.  Empty  as  their  closet  is 
 likewise  their  heart.  Ah,  it  is  only  a 
 gloomy  world,  unvisited  by  Divine  com- 
 munications, bare  of  all  experience  of 
 Divine  influence,  and  a  wild  thoroughfare 
 of  the  gloomy  spirits  of  carnal  thoughts 
 and  passions  !  Their  whole  existence  is 
 void  and  desolate.  They  see  no  Jacob's 
 ladder  reaching  up  to  heaven;  they  ex- 
 perience no  scenes  like  those  on  Horeb 
 and  Tabor ;  they  hear  no  steps  of  an  in- 
 visible Deity  at  their  side ;  and  guidance, 
 visitation,  and  answers  to  prayer,  are 
 words  to  them  without  marrow  and  sub- 
 stance. Br.  Krummacher. 
 
 SINNERS— Subterfuges  of. 
 
 There  are  persons  who  have  no  other 
 ground  for  regarding  themselves  as  morally 
 right,  except  the  absence  of  certain  vices. 
 Thds  the  miser  congratulates  himself  on 
 his  not  having  run  into  debt  by  extrava- 
 gance, while  the  thoughtless  spendthrift 
 rejoices  that  he  is  not  so  narrow-minded 
 and  contracted  in  his  feelings  and  dis- 
 position as  the  miser.  The  drunkard 
 boasts  that  he  is  not  dishonest,  and  the 
 cunning  deceitful  man  tells  you  with  an 
 air  of  triumph,  that  he  is  not  intemperate. 
 The  man  of  dull  temperament,  whose  soul 
 resembles  a  day  of  mists,  without  torrents 
 of  rain,  indeed,  but  permanently  cold;  not 
 absolutely  dark,  indeed,  but  disclosing  none 
 of  the  distant  landscapes  on  which  the  eye 
 of  faith  delights  to  repose ;  never  bright- 
 ened by  the  sunshine  of  hope,  or  warmed 
 by  the  ardour  of  fervent  charity ;  such  an 
 one  assumes  superiority,  because  he  keeps 
 free  from  violent  excitement,  and  extricates 
 himself  from  difficulties  into  which  others, 
 
SINCERITY-SINS  OF  OMISSION. 
 
 by  their  impetuosity,  contrive  to  plunge. 
 Thus  every  man  would  infer,  from  the 
 absence  of  some  one  sin,  the  presence  of  a 
 positive  virtue.  But  the  conclusion  is  evi- 
 dently an  unsound  one.  The  poet  Milton 
 paints  the  fallen  ajigels  as  each  possessing 
 a  distinctive  character — one  swayed  by  a 
 love  of  gold,  another  by  a  love  of  splen- 
 dour, and  a  third  by  fraud,  and  another  by 
 force ;  yet  this  difference  of  characteristic 
 has  never  been  reckoned  as  excusing  the 
 rebellion  of  any,  and  just  as  little  can  the 
 diversity  of  man's  character  be  held  as  ex- 
 cusing the  sin  of  any  given  individual. 
 That  soil  would  be  described  as  polluted 
 wliich  produced  only  weeds,  and  this, 
 though  it  did  not  produce  every  kind  of 
 weed,  though  the  soil  at  the  tropics  did 
 not  yield  the  same  species  as  the  soil  in 
 the  arctic  regions.  We  hold  that  every 
 man's  nature  is  re;Uly  sinful,  even  when  it 
 can  be  shown  that  the  man  of  cold  tem- 
 perament is  not  guilty  of  every  sin  into 
 which  the  man  of  more  fervent  spirit  is 
 apt  to  fall.  Dr.  3IcCosh. 
 
 SINCERITY— Ease  of. 
 
 He  who  is  sincere  hath  the  easiest  task 
 in  the  world,  for  truth  being  always  con- 
 sistent with  itself,  he  is  put  to  no  trouble 
 about  his  words  and  actions ;  it  is  like  tra- 
 velling in  a  plain  road,  which  is  sure  to 
 bring  you  to  your  journey's  end  better 
 than  by-ways  in  which  many  lose  them- 
 selves. J.  Beaumont. 
 
 SIITCESITY— Excellency  of. 
 
 The  plainer  the  diamond,  the  more  it 
 sparkles  ;  the  plainer  the  heart  is,  the  more 
 it  sparkles  in  God's  eye.  What  a  com- 
 mendation did  Clirist  give  Nathaniel — 
 "  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is 
 no  guile  !"  T.  Watson. 
 
 SINCERITY— Nature  of. 
 
 Sincerity  is  to  speak  as  we  think,  to  do 
 as  we  pretend  and  profess,  to  perform  and 
 make  good  what  we  promise,  and  really  to 
 be  what  we  would  seem  and  appear  to  be. 
 It  creates  confidence  in  those  we  have  to 
 deal  with,  and  saves  the  labour  of  many 
 inquiries.  Archbishop  Tillolson. 
 
 SINCERITY— Pre-eminence  of. 
 
 Sincerity ! 
 Thou  fii'st  of  virtues,  let  no  mortal  leave 
 Thy   onward    path,   although    the    earth 
 
 should  gape, 
 And  from  the  gulf  of  hell  destruction  cry, 
 To  take  dissimulations  winding  way. 
 
 Some. 
 SINCERITY— in  Religion. 
 
 Sincerity  is  an  essential  attribute  of  per- 
 sonal religion ;  it  consists  in  acting  from 
 good  motives,  and  with  uniform  integrity 
 in  our  commerce  with  the  world ;  it  is  pro- 
 
 duced by  faith  in  Christ,  supported  by 
 Divine  love  and  filial  fear,  and  generally 
 distinguished  by  an  amiable  self-difEdence, 
 and  a  firm  reliance  on  the  free  grace  of 
 God;  all  other  virtues  derive  not  only 
 their  lustre,  but  their  very  existence,  fi-om 
 this  excellent  principle.  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 All  who  profess  the  Gospel  and  have  not 
 sincerity,  are  as  clouds  without  water, 
 trees  without  fruit,  or  lamps  without  oil ; 
 but  those  who  love  God  with  undivided 
 hearts,  participate  a  constant  succession  of- 
 pleasures  in  His  approbation  and  in  their 
 own  minds,  Ihid. 
 
 SINS— Classes  of. 
 
 There  are  two  classes  of  sins.  There  are 
 some  sins  by  which  man  crushes,  wounds, 
 malevolently  injures  his  brother ;  those  sins 
 which  speak  of  a  bad,  tyrannical,  and  selfish 
 
 heart There  are  other  sins  by  which 
 
 a  man  injures  himself.  There  is  a  life  of 
 reckless  indulgence;  there  is  a  career  of 
 yielding  to  ungovernable  propensities, 
 which  most  surely  conducts  to  wretched- 
 ness and  ruin,  but  makes  a  man  an  object 
 of  compassion  rather  than  of  condemnation. 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 SINS — Increasing. 
 
 Sins  are  like  circles  in  the  water  when 
 a  stone  is  thrown  into  it,  one  produces 
 another.  When  anger  was  in  Cain's  heart, 
 murder  was  not  far  oif.  M.  Henry. 
 
 SINS— Small. 
 
 The  eye  is  so  delicately  fine  in  its  con- 
 struction, and  so  exceeding  tender  in  its 
 susceptibilities,  that  the  minutest  particle 
 of  dust  occasions  the  greatest  pain ;  so  it 
 is  with  the  soul  of  the  man  which  has  been 
 born  again  of  the  Spirit.  The  least  com- 
 mission of  sin  or  neglect  of  duty  gives  it 
 instant  pain  and  discomfort. 
 
 John  Bate, 
 
 The  pores  of  the  skin  are  so  very  nume- 
 rous and  fine  that  the  sharper  the  needle 
 the  more  quickly  the  sensation;  that  the 
 imperceptible  spikes  of  the  nettle  coming 
 in  contact  with  the  hand  creates  consider- 
 able pain.  So  with  the  soul  and  the  small 
 sins  of  life.  Ibid. 
 
 SINS  OF  CHILDREN. 
 
 Many  mourn  at  the  death  of,  and  for 
 the  death  of  their  children,  who  never 
 mourn  for  the  sins  of  their  children,  but 
 truly  noble  was  that  queen's  speech,  who 
 said,  I  had  rather  see  my  son  die  thnn  siu. 
 Venning^ 
 SINS  OF  OMISSION. 
 
 The  whole  of  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of 
 
 St.  Matthew  is  employed  to  teach  us  that 
 
 sins  of  omission  will  constitute  the  prin- 
 
 I  ciple  cause  of  a  sinner's  condemnation  at 
 
SITUATIONS— SLANDERER. 
 
 799 
 
 the  last  day.  The  foolish  virgius  were 
 excluded  from  the  marriage  feast,  not  for 
 having  betrayed  the  bridegroom,  but  be- 
 cause tliey  were  unprepared  to  receive 
 him.  The  slothful  servant  is  cast  into 
 outer  darkness,  not  for  having  robbed 
 another  of  his  talent,  but  for  the  non-im- 
 provement of  his  own.  J.  Crouch. 
 
 SITUATIONS. 
 
 It  is  not  the  situation  which  makes  the 
 man,  but  the  man  who  makes  the  situa- 
 tion. The  slave  may  be  a  freeman.  The 
 monarch  may  be  a  slave.  Situations  are 
 noble  or  ignoble  as  we  make  them. 
 
 F.  W.Rolertson. 
 
 SLANDER— Description  of. 
 
 The  tongue  of  the  slanderer  is  a  de- 
 vouring fire,  which  tarnishes  whatever  it 
 touches;  which  exercises  its  tury  on  the 
 good  grain,  equally  as  on  the  chaff;  on  the 
 profane  as  on  the  sacred ;  which,  where- 
 ever  it  passes,  leaves  only  desolation  and 
 ruin;  digs  even  into  the  bowels  of  the 
 earth,  and  fixes  itself  on  things  the  most 
 hidden  ;  turns  into  vile  ashes  what  only  a 
 moment  before  had  appeared  to  us  so 
 precious  and  brilliant;  acts  with  more 
 violence  and  danger  than  ever  in  the  time 
 when  it  was  aj^parently  smothered  up  and 
 almost  extinct ;  which  blackens  what  it 
 cannot  consume,  and  sometimes  sparkles 
 and  delights  before  it  destroys.  Massillon. 
 
 'Tis  slander 
 Whose   edge  is  sharper  than  the   sword, 
 
 whose  tongue  [breath 
 
 Outvenoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile  ;  whose 
 Rides  on  the  posting  winds,  and  doth  belie 
 All  corners  of  the  world,  kings,   queens, 
 
 and  states,  [grave 
 
 Maids,  matrons ;  nay,  the  secrets  of  the 
 This  viprous  slander  enters.     ShaJcef^eare. 
 
 SLANDER— Not  Heeding.' 
 
 When  the  senate  informed  Augustus  of 
 what  some  had  said  of  him,  "  Tush,"  said 
 he,  "  we  are  not  at  leisure  to  listen  to  every 
 slander  that's  raised  of  us."  A  Christian 
 should  be  (as  is  said  of  Severus  the  emperor) 
 careful  of  what  is  to  be  done  by  him,  but 
 careless  of  what  is  said  of  him.       Venning. 
 
 SLANDER— Mischief  of. 
 And  over  the  laurels  of  full-blown  Fame, 
 And  the  tender  shoots  of  the  young  Good 
 Name,  [flame. 
 
 He   stamped   with  his   merciless  hoof  of 
 
 And  he  left  its  print  on  each. 
 And  backwards  and  forwards  he  wriggled 
 
 his  tail. 
 Through   rose-trimmed  garden,  and   lily- 
 strewn  vale, 
 Marking  his  course  by  a  loathsome  trail, 
 Like  a  snail  track  over  a  peach.    Anon. 
 
 SLANDER— Poisonous. 
 
 This  slander  is  compared  to  poison — "the 
 tongue  is  an  unruly  evil,  full  of  deadly 
 poison."  'J'he  deadliest  poisons  are  those 
 for  which  no  test  is  known  ;  there  are 
 poisons  so  destructive  that  a  single  drop 
 insinuated  into  the  veins  produces  death  in 
 three  seconds,  and  yet  no  chemical  science 
 can  separate  that  virus  from  the  contami- 
 nated blood,  and  show  the  metallic  par- 
 ticles of  poison  glittering  palpably,  and  say. 
 "  Behold  it  is  there."        F.  W.  Robertson, 
 
 SLANDER— Prevalence  of. 
 
 The  world  with  calumny  abounds, 
 The  whitest  virtue  slander  wounds ; 
 There  are  whose  joy  is,  night  and  day. 
 To  talk  a  character  away  : 
 Eager  from  rout  to  rout  they  haste. 
 To  blast  the  generous  and  the  chaste. 
 And  hunting  reputation  down. 
 Proclaim  their  triumphs  through  the  town. 
 Tope. 
 
 SLANDER— Subjects  of. 
 
 That   thou   art  blamed  shall  not  be  thy 
 
 defect ; 
 For  slander's  mark  was  ever  yet  the  fair ; 
 So  thou  be  good,  slander  doth  not  approve 
 Thy  worth  the  greater.  Shakespeare. 
 
 SLANDERER— Description  of  the. 
 
 Slander,  the  foulest  whelp  of  Sin.  The  man 
 In  whom  this  spirit  entered  was  undone ; 
 His  tongue  was  set  on  fire  of  hell ;  his  heart 
 Was  black  as  death;  his  legs  were  faint 
 
 with  haste 
 To  propagate  the  lie  his  soul  had  framed ; 
 His  pillow  was  the  peace  of  families 
 Destroyed,  the  sigh  of  innocence  reproached. 
 Broken  friendships, and  thestrifeof  brother- 
 hoods, [clock 
 Yet  did  he  spare  his  sleep,  and  hear  the 
 Number  the  midnight  watches,  on  his  bed 
 Devising  mischief  more ;  and  early  rose. 
 And   made   most  hellish   meals   of    good 
 
 men's  names. 
 From  door  to  door  you  might  have  seen 
 
 him  speed. 
 Or  placed  amidst  a  group  of  gaping  fools. 
 And  whispering  in  their  ears  with  his  foul 
 lips.  [made 
 
 Peace  fled  the  neighbourhood  in  which  he 
 His  haunts ;  and,  like  a  moral  pestilence. 
 Before  his  breath  the  healthy  shoots  and 
 
 blooms 
 Of  social  joy  and  happiness  decayed. 
 Fools  only  in  his  company  were  seen. 
 And  those  forsaken  of  God,  and  to  them- 
 selves 
 Given  up.     The  prudent  shunned  him  and 
 
 his  house 
 As  one  who  had  a  deadly  moral  plao-ue. 
 
 Fdllock. 
 
800 
 
 SLANDERER— SLAVERY. 
 
 SLANDERER— Words  of  the. 
 
 In  the  drop  of  vonom  which  distils  from 
 the  sting  of  the  smallest  insect,  or  the 
 spikes  of  the  nettle-leaf,  there  is  concen- 
 trated the  quintessence  of  a  poison  so 
 subtle  that  the  microscope  cannot  distin- 
 guish it,  and  yet  so  virulent  that  it  can 
 inflame  the  blood,  irritate  the  whole  con- 
 stitution and  convert  day  and  night  into 
 restless  misery  ;  so  it  is  sometimes  with  the 
 words  of  the  slanderer.     F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 SLAVERY— Mental. 
 
 Slavery  is  that  which  cramps  powers. 
 The  worst  slavery  is  that  which  cramps 
 the  noblest  powers.  Worse,  therefore, 
 than  be  who  manacles  the  hands  and 
 feet  is  he  who  puts  fettei-s  on  the  mind, 
 and  pretends  to  demand  that  men  shall 
 think  and  believe  and  feel  thus  and  thus, 
 because  others  so  believed,  and  thought, 
 and  felt  before.  Ibid. 
 
 SLAVERY— Moral. 
 
 Go  to  the  intemperate  man  in  the 
 morning,  when  his  head  aches,  his  hand 
 trembles,  his  throat  burns,  and  his  whole 
 frame  is  relaxed  and  unstrung  ;  he  is 
 ashamed,  hates  his  sin,  would  not  do  it. 
 Go  to  him  at  night,  when  the  power  of 
 habit  is  on  him  like  a  spell,  and  he  obeys 
 the  mastery  of  bis  craving.  He  can  use 
 the  language  of  Rom.  vii,  "  That  which  he 
 would,  he  does  not ;  but  the  evil  that  he 
 hates,  that  he  does."  Observe,  he  is  not 
 in  the  possession  of  a  true  self.  It  is  not 
 he,  but  sin  which  dwelleth  in  him,  that 
 does  it.  A  power  which  is  not  his  com- 
 mands him  against  himself.  And  that  is 
 slavery.  Ibid. 
 
 Is  a  man  free,  just  because  there  are  no 
 fetters  on  his  limbs,  and  he  is  not  the  in- 
 mate of  a  prison  ?  Call  you  a  despot  ne- 
 cessarily free,  because  his  will  is  law,  and 
 there  is  none  to  control  him  in  a  single 
 purpose  or  a  single  desire  ?  You  know 
 better  than  this.  You  know  that  there  is 
 often  immeasurably  more  of  freedom  with 
 the  slave  than  with  the  tyrant,  with  the 
 captive  than  with  the  jailer.  There  are 
 fetters  of  the  spirit,  there  are  mental 
 chains,  forged  of  such  material,  and  fast- 
 ened with  such  strength,  that  he  who 
 wears  them  may  sit  upon  a  throne,  and  be 
 unspeakably  more  a  bondsman  than  many 
 a  wretched  thing  that  is  bound  in  a  dun- 
 geon. An  exiled  king  had  learned  this 
 truth  ;  for  James  II  on  his  death-bed  thus 
 addressed  his  son — "  There  is  no  slavery 
 Tike  sin,  and  no  liberty  like  God's  service." 
 Was  not  the  dethroned  monarch  right  ? 
 What  think  you  of  the  fetters  of  bad 
 habits  ?  What  think  you  of  the  chains  of 
 indulged  lust?     The  drunkard  who  can- 
 
 not resist  the  craving  for  the  wine,  know 
 you  a  more  thorough  captive  ?  The  covet- 
 ous man,  who  toils  night  and  day  for 
 wealth,  what  is  he  but  a  slave  ?  The 
 sensual  man,  the  ambitious  man,  the  worldly 
 man — those  who,  in-  spite  of  the  remon- 
 strances of  conscience,  cannot  break  away 
 from  enthralment — what  are  they,  if  not 
 the  subjects  of  a  tyranny  than  which  there 
 is  none  sterner,  and  none  more  degrading  ? 
 S.  Melvill. 
 
 SLAVERY  (Moral)— the  Greatest. 
 
 There  can  be  no  greater  slavery  than 
 that  of  the  individual  over  whom  his  own 
 passions  and  his  own  habits  domineer.  Can 
 he  be  called  his  own  master,  who  is  always 
 at  the  bidding  of  an  imperious  lust,  and 
 must  yield  to  an  nppetite  whenever  it 
 solicits  gratification  ?  Is  it  the  fine  form 
 of  civil  government  beneath  which  that 
 man  lives,  or  is  it  the  total  absence  of  ex- 
 ternal restraint,  which  will  induce  you  to 
 pronounce  that  man  free  who  is  governed 
 by  his  own  inward  corruption,  so  that  he 
 cannot  withstand  the  desires  of  the  flesh  ? 
 Is  the  ambitious  man  a  free  man,  who  can- 
 not refuse  to  foljow  the  phantom  which 
 beckons  him  ?  Is  the  covetous  man  a  free 
 man,  whom  money  compels  to  drudge  for 
 it,  and  yet  forbids  to  use  it  ?  Is  the  sensual 
 man  a  free  man,  who  has  so  little  power 
 over  himself  that  he  cannot  abstain  from 
 his  pleasures  even  when  sure  of  their 
 proving  his  tormentors  ?  It  is  idle  to  talk 
 of  liberty,  whilst  you  are  the  servants  of 
 sin.  I  may  cross  seas  and  mountains  to 
 reach  a  land  of  freedom  ;  but  if  I  am  my- 
 self a  tyrant,  the  prison  is  everywhere,  and 
 nothing  but  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  prac- 
 tically applied,  will  enable  a  man  to  throw 
 ofl:'  the  shackles  by  which  he  is  naturally 
 bound.  Ibid. 
 
 SLAVERY— Moral  and  Physical. 
 
 What  slavery  is  like  the  slavery  of  sin  ? 
 In  every  other  case  there  is  hope;  there 
 are  lulls,  at  least,  and  intervals  of  anguish  ; 
 there  are  alleviations,  though  perhaps  they 
 may  be  few  and  rare ;  there  is  patience, 
 there  is  prayer ;  there  may  be  the  comfort 
 of  the  cherished  Spirit  of  God  in  the  inner 
 heart ;  there  is  death,  in  which  the  con- 
 summation of  earthly  tyranny  works  its 
 own  cure,  and  the  slave  is  fi-ee  for  ever ; 
 but  in  the  slavery  of  sin,  there  is  no  hope, 
 no  lull,  no  check,  no  flight,  no  patience,  no 
 prayer,  no  inward  peace  of  a  religious  spirit 
 counterbalancing  the  outward  misery  of  the 
 fettered  limbs  ;  and  death,  the  limit  of  the 
 one  slavery,  is  hut  the  terrible  "  beginning 
 of  the  end  "  of  the  other;  when  Sin,  which 
 has  been  allowed  to  rule  in  the  heart  and 
 members  during  life,  declares  itself  visibly 
 and  unmistakably,  to  be  the  very  tyrant  of 
 souls  himself,  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  to 
 
SLAVERY— SLEEP. 
 
 801 
 
 wliose  sway  his  slave  is  consigned  to  all 
 eternity.  Dr.  Moberly. 
 
 SLAVERY— Opinions  on. 
 
 American  slavery,  the  vilest  that  ever 
 saw  the  sun.  The  sum  of  all  villanies. — 
 John  Wesley. 
 
 Slavery  is  inconsistent  with  the  genius 
 of  republicanism — it  lessens  the  sense  of 
 the  equal  riglits  of  mankind  and  habitn- 
 ates  us  to  tyranny  and  oppression. — Luther 
 Martin,  of  Md. 
 
 It  [slavery]  is  so  odious  that  nothing 
 can  be  sufficient  to  support  it  but  positive 
 Liw. — Lord  Mansfield. 
 
 It  is  injustice  to  permit  slavery  to  remain 
 for  a  single  hour. —  W^ilUam  Pitt. 
 
 Slavery  is  contrary  to  the  fundamental 
 law  of  all  societies. — Montesquieu. 
 
 Slavery,  in  all  its  forms,  in  all  its  de- 
 grees, is  a  violation  of  Divine  law,  and  a 
 degradation  of  human  nature. — Brissot. 
 
 Those  are  raen-stealers  who  abduct, 
 k'^ep.  sell,  or  buy  slaves  or  freemtn. — 
 Orotius. 
 
 Shivery  is  detrimental  to  virtue  and 
 industry. — Beattie. 
 
 Slavery  is  a  system  of  outrage  and 
 robbery. — Socrates. 
 
 Slavery  is  a  system  of  the  most  com- 
 pli'te  injustice. — Plato. 
 
 While  men  despise  fraud,  and  loathe 
 raiiine,  and  abhor  blood,  they  will  reject 
 wilh  indignation  the  wild  and  guilty  phan- 
 tasy that  man  can  hold  property  in  man. 
 — Brougham. 
 
 Slavery  is  a  state  so  improper,  so  de- 
 grading, so  ruinous  to  the  feelings  and 
 capacities  of  human  nature,  that  it  ought 
 not  to  be  suffered  to  exist. — Burke. 
 
 No  man  is  by  nature  the  property  of 
 atiother. — Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 A  system  [slavery]  which  is  not  only 
 opposed  to  all  the  principles  of  morality, 
 but,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  pregnant  with 
 appalling  and  inevitable  danger  to  the 
 Republic. — Baron  Humboldt. 
 
 Every  man  has  a  property  in  his  own 
 person  ;  this  nobody  has  a  right  to  but 
 himself.  — Locke. 
 
 It  perverts  human  reason,  and  induces 
 men  endowed  with  logical  powers  to  main- 
 tain that  slavery  is  sanctioned  by  the 
 Christian  religion. — John  Q.  Adams. 
 
 Natural  liberty  is  the  gift  of  the  bene- 
 ficent Creator  of  the  whole  human  race. — 
 Alexander  Mamilton. 
 
 Slavery  is  an  atrocious  debasement  of 
 human  nature. — Franklin. 
 
 It  [slavery]  impairs  our  strength  as  a 
 community,  and  poisons  our  morals  at  the 
 fountain  head. — Judge  Gaston,  of  N.  C. 
 
 The  evils  of  this  system  [slavery]  can- 
 not be  enumerated. — Geo.  W.  Summers, 
 ofVa. 
 
 Sir,  I  envy  neither  the  heart  nor  the 
 
 head  of  that  man  from  the  North,  who 
 rises  here  [in  congress]  to  defend  slavery 
 from  principle. — John  Randolph. 
 
 We  have  found  that  this  evil  [slavery] 
 has  preyed  upon  the  very  vitals  of  the 
 Union,  and  hns  been  prejudicial  to  all  the 
 States  in  which  it  has  existed. — James 
 Monroe. 
 
 The  abolition  of  domestic  slavery  is  the 
 greatest  object  of  desire  in  these  colonies, 
 where  it  was  unhappily  introduced  in  their 
 infaat  state. — Thos.  Jefferson. 
 
 I  can  only  say  that  there  is  not  a  man 
 living  who  wishes  more  sincerely  than  I  do 
 to  see  a  plan  adopted  for  the  abolition  of 
 it  [slavery]. —  George  Washington. 
 
 Not  only  does  the  Cliristian  religion, 
 but  nature  herself,  cry  out  against  the 
 state  of  Slavery. — Pope  Leo  X. 
 
 We  further  reprobate  by  our  Apostolic 
 authority,  all  the  above  oftences  [traffic  in 
 slaves  and  holding  them  in  slavery]  as 
 utterly  unworthy  of  the  Christian  name. 
 — Pope  Gregory  XVL 
 
 SLEEP— Caprice  of. 
 
 Sleep  is  no  servant  of  the  will ; 
 
 It  has  caprices  of  its  own  : 
 When  courted  most  it  lingers  still. 
 When  most  pursued  'tis  swiftly  gone. 
 Bowring 
 
 SLEEP— Comfort  of. 
 
 Oh  !  thou  best  comforter  of  the  sad  heart. 
 
 When  fortune's  spite  assails — come,  gentle 
 
 sleep,  [art 
 
 The  weary  mourner  soothe  !  For  well  the 
 Thou  know'st  in  soft  forgetfulness  to  steep 
 The  eyes  which  sorrow  taught  to  watch 
 
 and  weep.  Mrs.  Tighe. 
 
 SLEEP— Description  of. 
 
 Sleep,  death's  beautiful  brother — fairest 
 phenomenon — poetical  reality— thou  sweet 
 collapsing  of  the  weary  spirit ;  thou  mys- 
 tery that  everyone  knows  ;  thou  remnant 
 of  primeval  innocence  and  bliss,  for  Adam 
 slept  in  Paradise.  To  sleep — there's  a 
 drowsy  mellifluence  in  the  very  word  that 
 would  almost  serve  to  interpret  its  mean- 
 ing— to  shut  up  the  senses  and  hoodwink 
 the  soul;  to  dismiss  the  world;  to  escape 
 from  one's  self;  to  be  in  ignorance  of  our 
 own  existence  ;  to  stagnate  upon  the  earth, 
 just  breathing  out  the  hours,  not  living 
 them — "  Doing  no  mischief,  only  dreaminj; 
 of  it;"  neither  merry  nor  melancholy,  some- 
 thing between  both,  and  better  than  either. 
 Best  friend  of  frail  humanity,  and,  like  all 
 other  friends,  it  is  best  estimated  in  its  loa*- 
 Longfellow. 
 
 SLEEP— Equality  in. 
 
 What  is  the  difference  between  the  rich 
 and  poor  during  the  hours  of  sleep  ? 
 Wliatever  inequalities  there  may  be  in  the 
 
802 
 
 SIEEP— SMALL  THINGS. 
 
 wakeful  hours,  in  tlie  hours  of  slumber 
 tliey  are  alike.  If,  however,  there  is  a 
 ditlerence,  it  is  mostly  in  favour  of  the 
 poor,  their  sleep  being  sounder  and  sweeter 
 than  the  rich.  And  how  much  of  human 
 life  passes  away  in  sleep.  John  Bate. 
 
 SLEEP— Peace  of. 
 
 Come  sleep,  O  sleep  !    the  certain  tnot  of 
 peace. 
 The  baiting  place  of  wit,  the  balm  of  woe ; 
 The  poor  man's  wealth,  the  prisoner's  re- 
 lease. 
 The  impartial  judge  between  the  high 
 and  low.  Sir  Philip  Sydney. 
 
 Kind  sleep  affords 
 The  only  boon  the  wretched  mind  can  feel ; 
 A  momentary  respite  from  despair. 
 
 Murphy. 
 
 SLEEP— Pleasures  of. 
 
 May  Morpheus  shed  his  benignant  in- 
 fluence upon  your  eyelids,  that  are  now 
 heavy  with  watcliing,  and  diffuse  a  pleas- 
 ing languor  through  your  limbs,  that  are 
 fatigued  by  labour !  May  he  cause  the 
 most  delightful  dreams  to  sport  around 
 you ;  fill  your  imagination  with  gay  ideas  ; 
 and  keep  far  from  you  whatever  might 
 chase  them  away  too  soon  !  Fenelon. 
 
 SLEEP— Relation  to  Death. 
 
 Sleep  is  Death's  younger' brother,  and  so 
 like  him  that  I  never  dare  trust  him  with- 
 out my  prayers.  Sir  T.  Broivn. 
 
 SLEEP— Rest  of. 
 
 Tired  nature's  sweet  restorer,  balmy  sleep ! 
 He,  like  the  world,  his  ready  visit  pays. 
 Where   fortune   smiles — the   wretched  he 
 forsakes.  Young. 
 
 When  tir'd  with  vain  rotations  of  the  day. 
 Sleep  winds  us  up  for  the  succeeding  dawn. 
 Ibid. 
 SLEEP -Security  in. 
 
 When  one  asked  Alexander  how  he  could 
 sleep  so  soundly  and  securely  in  the  midst 
 of  danger,  he  told  them  that  Parmenio 
 watched;  he  might  well  sleep  when  Par- 
 menio watched.  Oh  how  securely  may 
 they  sleep,  over  whom  He  watches,  that 
 never  slumbers  nor  sleeps  ?  "1  will,"  said 
 David,  "  lay  me  down  and  sleep,  for  Thou 
 Lord  makest  me  to  dwell  in  safety." 
 
 Venning. 
 
 SLEEP— Visions  of. 
 
 O  magic  sleep !  O  comfortable  bird. 
 
 That  broodest  o'er  the  troubled  sea  of  the 
 
 mind 
 Till  it  is  hush'd  and  smooth  !  O  unconfined 
 Restraint !  imprison'd  liberty  !  great  key 
 To  golden  palaces,  strange  minstrelsy. 
 
 Fountains  grotesque,  new  trees,  bespangled 
 
 caves : 
 Echoing  grottoes  full  of  tumbling  waves. 
 And  moonlight ;  ay,  to  all  the  mazy  world 
 Of  silvery  enchantment !  who,  unfurl'd 
 Beneath  thy  drowsy  wing  a  triple  hour. 
 But  renovates  and  lives.  Keats. 
 
 SLEEP— to  the  Wicked. 
 
 God  gives  sleep  to  the  bad,  in  order 
 that  the  good  may  be  undisturbed. 
 
 Sadi. 
 SLOTH— Description  of. 
 Sloth    lay    till    mid-day,    turning    on   his 
 
 couch. 
 Like  ponderous  door  upon  its  weary  hinge; 
 And  having  rolled  him  out,  with  much  ado. 
 And  many  a  dismal  sigh,  and  vain  attempt. 
 He  sauntered  out,  accoutred  carelessly — 
 With  half-oped,  misty,  unobservant  eye. 
 Somniferous,  that  weighed  the  object  down 
 On  which  its  burden  fell — an  hour  or  two; 
 Then  with  a  groan  retired  to  rest  again. 
 
 Pollock. 
 SLOTH— Evils  of. 
 
 Sloth  is  an  inlet  to  disordfir,  and  makes 
 way  for  licentiousness,  Pei  o  that  have 
 nothing  to  do  are  t^uickly  tired  of  tlieir 
 own  company.  Collier. 
 
 SLOTH— Issue  of. 
 
 See  the  issue  of  your  sloth  ; 
 Of  sloth  comes  pleasure,  of  pleasure  comes 
 
 riot, 
 Of  riot   comes  disease,  of  disease   comes 
 
 spending,  [tlieft, 
 
 Of  spending  comes  want,   of  want  comes 
 And  of  theft  comes  hanging. 
 
 Ben  Jonson. 
 SMALL  THINGS— Attention  of  God  to. 
 
 He  upholds  the  sparrow's  wing,  clothes 
 the  lily  with  His  own  beautifying  hand, 
 and  numbers  the  hairs  of  His  children.  He 
 holds  the  balancings  of  the  clouds.  He 
 maketh  the  small  drops  of  rain.  [He 
 numbers  every  blade  of  grass  in  the  fields, 
 and  atom  of  sand  on  the  ocean's  shores.] 
 He  descends  to  an  infinite  detail,  and 
 builds  a  little  universe  in  the  smallest 
 things.  He  carries  on  a  process  of  growth 
 in  every  tree  and  flower,  and  living  thing  ; 
 accomplishes  in  each  an  internal  organi- 
 zation, and  works  the  functions  of  an  in- 
 ternal laboratory,  too  delicate  for  eye  or 
 instrument  to  trace.  He  articulates  the 
 members  and  impels  the  instincts  of  every 
 living  mote  that  shines  in  the  sunbeam.  . 
 .  .  .  God  is  as  careful  to  finish  the 
 mote  as  the  planet,  both  because  it  consists 
 only  with  His  perfection  to  finish  eveiy- 
 thing,  and  because  the  perfection  of  His 
 greatest  structures  is  the  result  of  per- 
 fection in  their  smallest  parts  or  particles. 
 On  this   patience  of  detail  rests   all  the 
 
SMALL  THINGS. 
 
 803 
 
 glory  and  order  of  the  created  universe, 
 spiritual  and  material.  God  could  thunder 
 the  year  round ;  He  could  shake  the  ribs 
 of  the  world  with  perpetual  earthquakes ; 
 He  could  blaze  on  the  air,  and  brush  the 
 affrighted  mountains  each  day  with  His 
 comets.  But  if  He  could  not  feed  the 
 grass  with  His  dew,  and  breathe  into  the 
 little  lungs  of  his  insect  family — if  He 
 could  not  expend  His  care  on  small  things, 
 and  descend  to  an  interest  in  their  per- 
 fection. His  works  would  be  only  crude 
 and  ilisjointed  machines,  compounded  of 
 mistakes  and  malformations,  without  beauty 
 and  order,  and  fitted  to  no  perfect  end. 
 
 Br.  Bushnell. 
 
 It  has  been  ascertained  beyond  doubt, 
 that  in  perceiving  the  tint  of  the  scarlet 
 geranium  our  eyes  are  affected  by  undula- 
 tions, recurring  482  millions  of  times  in  a 
 second  ;  that  before  we  can  appreciate  the 
 tint  of  the  yellow  blossoms  of  the  gorse  or 
 laburnum,  512  millions  of  millions  of  vibra- 
 tions must  have  taken  place ;  and  that  to 
 discriminate  the  colour  of  the  violet,  not 
 less  than  707  millions  of  millions  of  move- 
 ments must  have  been  communicated  to 
 the  fibrilla  of  our  retina  !  Todd. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS— Great  Effects  of. 
 
 The  great  effects  produced  by  the  co- 
 operation of  small  causes  is  in  nothing 
 better  illustrated  than  in  the  productions 
 of  that  form  of  life  which  we  commonly 
 call  microscopic.  The  great  bars  wliich  are 
 impediments  to  commerce  at  the  mouths 
 of  our  principal  rivers  and  at  the  entrances 
 to  the  great  harbours  of  the  world,  are 
 many  of  them  formed  almost  wholly  by  the 
 labours  of  animalcules,  who  have  deposited 
 their  small  skeletons  and  shells  in  a  form 
 that  we  call  sand,  but  which  is  wholly  dis- 
 tinct from  the  ordinary  sand  of  the  shores 
 or  river  sides.  In  the  geological  investi- 
 gations of  the  last  few  years,  it  has  been 
 abundantly  demonstratetl  that  vast  rocky 
 formations  in  various  parts  of  the  world 
 are  in  fact  animalcule  formations.  The 
 Pyramid  of  Cheops  is  built  of  a  white  stone 
 composed  largely  of  animal  concretions, 
 commonly  known  as  nummulites,froni  their 
 resemblance  to  small  coins.  The  Mokat- 
 tam  hills  of  Egypt,  from  which  the  stone 
 of  the  pyramid  was  obtained,  show  not 
 only  the  remnins  of  trees  and  even  of 
 forests,  but  every  variety  of  shell  from  the 
 sea-water,  and  the  masses  of  rock  are  held 
 together  by  dense  agglomerations  of  these 
 small  nummulites.  These,  however,  are 
 large  animals  compared  with  those  which 
 form  bars  at  river  mouths.  The  latter  are 
 usually  of  microscopic  smallness,  invisible 
 to  the  naked  eye,  yet  in  their  great  num- 
 ber doing  work  equal  to  the  work  of  men 
 for  ages.     For  he  woul     be  an  adveuta 
 
 rous  man  that  would  undertake  to  dam  up 
 the  mouth  of  New  York  harbour,  as  these 
 infinitesimally  small  animals  seem  deter- 
 mined to  do,  and  have  already  largely  suc- 
 ceeded in  doing.  Dr.  Razen. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS— Great  Things  in. 
 
 Wisdom  sees  the  great  in  the  small. 
 What  could  be  more  trivi;il  than  the  heav- 
 ing of  the  lid  of  a  tea-kettle  ?  Yet,  in  that 
 motion  lay  the  germ  of  ocean  steamers, 
 railways  and  mills. 
 
 Development  dilates  the  small  into  the 
 great.  By  that  law  sparks  flame  into  con- 
 flagrations, fountains  flow  into  streams,  and 
 the  minute  swells  into  the  magnificent. 
 The  seeds  of  many  a  world-famed  change 
 were  dropped  in  silence,  —  night  dews 
 watered  them  when  ho  eyes  looked  on ; 
 but  at  length  they  bore  fruit  in  the  hearts 
 of  millions ;  and  the  harvest  of  them  waved 
 over  all  the  breadth  of  a  continent. 
 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS— Importance  of. 
 
 An  on-looker  observing  the  slight  taps 
 given  to  a  statue  by  Canova,  spoke  as  if  lie 
 thought  the  artist  to  be  trifling;  but  was 
 rebuked  by  this  reply — "  The  touches  which 
 you  ignorantly  hold  in  such  small  esteem 
 are  the  very  things  which  make  the  dif- 
 ference between  the  failure  of  a  bungler 
 and  the  chef  d'oeuvre  of  a  master.         Ibid. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS— Influence  of. 
 
 It  is  hard  to  say  what  is  really  little : 
 many  things  which  appear  so,  turn  out  to 
 be  possessed  of  an  importance  beyond  our 
 foresight,  and  run  on  to  issues  over  which 
 we  have  no  control.  The  diffiei'ence  of  an 
 inch  in  the  fall  of  a  rain-drop  on  a  roof 
 may  determine,  according  to  the  slope  it 
 hits,  the  whole  course  of  its  percolations, 
 and  decide  which  of  two  seas  it  shall  finally 
 reach,  though  their  waters  are  wide  of  each 
 other  as  the  opposite  shores  of  a  kingdom. 
 If  we  did  not  believe  in  the  reign  of  a  God, 
 it  would  be  terrible  to  think  that  life  has 
 in  it  turns  equally  decisive. 
 
 For  instance,  Cromwell  was  actually  ou 
 board  a  ship  in  the  Thames,  one  of  a  com- 
 pany s-t  upon  emigrating  from  the  country 
 which  afterwards  he  ruled ;  when,  lo,  be- 
 fore she  could  get  oil',  down  came  an  "  or- 
 der in  council "  forbidding  them  to  sail. 
 Had  the  monarch  been  prescient,  how 
 gladly  would  he  have  let  them  go !  Crom- 
 well  turned  back  to  his  fens,  to  become 
 thereafter  the  victor  of  Marston  Moor,  and 
 Naseby,  and  Worcester  fights ;  and  to  give 
 that  sharp  Whitehall  lesson  to  Royalists 
 which  a  wit  of  the  last  age  said  has  made 
 kings  ever  since  awake  with  a  crick  in 
 their  necks  on  Charles  the  Martyr's  day. 
 
 Take  another  case ;  money  freely  oflTered 
 by  an  actor,  cheered,  aided,  and  held  back 
 
804 
 
 SHALL  THINGS— SMILE. 
 
 Bonaparte  from  suicide.  Had  the  gene- 
 rosity of  Talina  been  wanting  to  that 
 nameless,  un patronised,  needy  adventurer, 
 who  can  tell  what  the  liistory  of  the  nine- 
 teenth century  would  have  been  ?  We 
 only  know  that,  following  that  loan,  came 
 thrones  emptied,  kingdoms  redistributed, 
 million?  slain,  Wellington  a  duke,  and  the 
 third  Napoleon  an  Emperor.  S.  Coley. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS— Make  aU  Things. 
 
 The  principal  of  all  things  entrails  made 
 
 Of  smallest  entrails;  bone  of  smallest 
 bone ; 
 
 Blood,  of  small  sanguine  drops  reduced  to 
 one; 
 
 Gold,  of  small  grains ;  earth,  of  small  sands 
 compacted ; 
 
 Small  drops  to  water,  sparks  to  fire  con- 
 tracted. Jjucretius. 
 
 SMALL  THINGS  OF  LIFE. 
 
 It  is  to  be  observed  that,  even  as  the 
 world  judges,  small  things  constitute  almost 
 the  whole  of  life.  The  great  days  of  the 
 year,  for  example,  are  few,  and  when  they 
 come  they  seldom  bring  anything  great  to 
 us.  And  the  matter  of  all  common  days 
 is  made  up  of  little  things,  or  ordinary  and 
 state  transactions.  Scarcely  once  in  a 
 year  does  anything  really  remarkable  befall 
 us.  If  I  were  to  begin  and  give  an  inven- 
 tory of  the  things  you  do  in  a  single  day, 
 your  muscular  motions,  each  of  which  is 
 accomplished  by  a  separate  act  of  will,  the 
 objects  you  see,  the  words  you  utter,  the 
 contrivances  you  frame,  your  thoughts, 
 passions,  gratifications,  and  trials,  many 
 of  you  would  not  be  able  to  hear  it  recited 
 with  sobriety.  But  three  hundred  and 
 sixty  five  such  days  make  up  a  year,  and  a 
 year  is  a  twentieth,  fiftieth,  or  seventieth 
 part  of  your  life.  And  thus,  with  the  ex- 
 ception of  some  few  striking  passages,  or 
 great  and  critical  occasions,  perhaps  not 
 more  than  five  or  six  iu  all,  your  life  is 
 made  up  of  common,  and,  as  men  are  wont 
 to  judge,  unimportant  things.  But  yet,  at 
 the  end,  you  have  done  an  amazing  work, 
 and  fixed  an  amazing  result.  You  stand  at 
 the  bar  of  Gtid,  and  look  back  on  a  life 
 made  up  of  small  things — but  yet  a  life 
 how  momentous  for  good  or  evil ! 
 
 Dr.  Buslinell. 
 
 SMALL  AND  GREAT  THINGS— Law  of. 
 
 In  Ethics  as  in  Physics,  the  same  princi- 
 ples operate  in  things  mighty  and  minute 
 alike. 
 
 "  The  self-same  law  that  moulds  a  tear, 
 And  bids  it  trickle  from  its  source. 
 That  law  preserves  the  earth  a  sphere, 
 And  moves  the  planets  in  their  course." 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 SMILE— Beautifdl. 
 
 A  beautiful  smile  is  to  the  female  coun- 
 tenance what  the  sunbeam  is  to  the  land- 
 scape :  it  embellishes  an  inferior  face,  and 
 redeems  an  ugly  one.  Lavater. 
 
 SMILE— Definitions  of  a. 
 
 It  is  the  colour  which  love  wears,  and 
 cheerfulness,  ajid  joy — these  three.  It  is 
 the  light  in  the  window  of  the  face,  by 
 which  the  heart  signifies  to  father,  husband, 
 or  friend,  that  it  is  at  home  and  waiting. 
 E.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 Laughter  is  day,  and  sobriety  is  night; 
 and  a  smile  is  the  twilight  that  hovers 
 gently  between  both,  more  bewitching 
 than  either.  Ibid. 
 
 SMILE— Face  without  a. 
 
 A  face  that  cannot  smile  is  like  a  bud 
 that  cannot  blossom,  and  dries  up  on  the 
 stalk.  Ibid. 
 
 SMILES— Kinds  of. 
 
 There  are  many  kinds  of  smiles,  each 
 having  a  distinct  character.  Some  an- 
 nounce goodness  and  sweetness;  others 
 betray  sarcasm,  bitterness,  and  pride; 
 some  soften  the  countenance  by  their 
 languishing  tenderness;  others  brighten 
 by  their  spiritual  vivacity.  Lavater. 
 
 A  disagreeable  smile  distorts  the  lines  of 
 
 beauty,  and  is  more  repulsive  than  a  frown. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 All  smiles  are  not  alike.  The  cheer- 
 fulness of  vanity  is  not  like  the  cheer- 
 fulness of  love ;  the  smile  of  gratified  pride 
 is  not  like  the  radiance  of  goodness  and 
 truth.  The  rains  of  summer  fall  alike 
 upon  all  trees  and  shrubs;  but  when  the 
 storm  passes,  and  every  leaf  hangs  a  drip, 
 each  gentle  puff"  of  wind  brings  down  the 
 putty  shower,  and  every  drop  brings  with 
 it  something  of  the  nature  of  the  leaf  or 
 blossom  on  which  it  hung;  the  roadside 
 leaf  yields  dust,  the  walnut  leaf  bitterness ; 
 some  flowers  poison,  while  the  grape- 
 blossom,  the  rose,  the  sweet  briar,  lend 
 their  aroma  to  the  twinkling  dew,  and 
 send  them  down  in  perfumed  drops.  And 
 so  it  is  with  smiles,  which  every  heart  per- 
 fumes according  to  its  nature — selfishness 
 is  acrid;  pride,  bitter;  goodwill,  sweet 
 and  fragrant.  S.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 What  a  sight  there  is  in  that  word 
 smile — it  changes  like  a  chameleon.  There 
 is  a  vacant  smile,  a  cold  smile,  a  smile  of 
 hate,  a  satiric  smile,  an  aflected  smile; 
 but,  above  all,  a  smile  of  love.  Ralihurton. 
 SMILE— Peculiar  to  Mankind. 
 
 A  smile !  Nothing  on  earth  can  smile 
 but  man.     Gems  may  flash  reflected  light ; 
 
SMILES— SOLITUDE. 
 
 805 
 
 but  what  is  a  diamond-flash  compared  with 
 an  eye-flasli  and  mirth-Hash  ?  Flowers 
 cannot  smile  :  this  is  a  charm  that  even 
 they  cannot  claim.  It  is  the  prerogative 
 of  man.  M.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 SMILES— Villain. 
 
 A  picture  of  a  precipice  reflected  in  a 
 deep  pit,  transcendently  beautiful !  A 
 small  cascade  from  the  top  falling  and 
 fretting  on  point  after  point  of  the  rocky 
 precipice.  Most  beautiful  aquatic  green, 
 in  many  recesses  of  the  precipice  nourished 
 by  this  water.  I  wandered  and  gazed 
 here  five  years  since.  Dismal  sombre  look 
 of  the  farthest  point  of  the  shelving  rock, 
 visible  down  through  the  dark  water  of 
 the  pit.  Pretty  innocent  dimples  on  the 
 surface  of  this  jjit,  caused  by  a  gentle 
 breath  of  air.  Analogy  —  Deep  villain 
 smiles.  J.  Foster. 
 
 SMOKER— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  pipe,  with  solemn  interposing  puff, 
 Makes  half  a  sentence  at'.  i  time  enough  ; 
 The  dozing  sages  drop  the  drowsy  strain, 
 Then   jjause,   and   puff — then   speak,  and 
 
 pause  again. 
 Such  often,  like  the  tube  they  so  admire, 
 Important  triflers!  have  more  smoke  than 
 
 fire. 
 Pernicious   weed!    whose    scent    the   fair 
 
 annoys 
 Unfriendly  to  society's  chief  joys. 
 The  worst  effect  is  banishing  for  hours 
 The  sex  whose  presence  civilises  ours. 
 Thou  art  indeed  the  drug  a  gardener  wants. 
 To  poison  vermin  that  infest  his  plants; 
 But  are  we  so  to  wit  and  beauty  bliud. 
 As  to  despise  the  glory  of  our  kind. 
 And  show  the  softest  minds,  and  fairest 
 
 forms 
 As  little  mercy  as  the  grubs  and  worms  ? 
 They  dare  not  wait  the  riotous  abuse 
 Thy  thirst-creating  steams  at  length  pro- 
 duce, 
 When  wine  has  given  indecent  language 
 
 birth 
 And  forced  the  flood-gates   of  licentious 
 
 mirth ; 
 For  sea-born  Venus  her  attachment  shows 
 Still  to  that  element  from  which  she  rose. 
 And  with  a  quiet  whi(th  no  fumes  disturb, 
 Sips  meek  infusions  of  a  milder  herb. 
 
 Couipcr. 
 
 SNEEES  OP  MEN. 
 
 What  would  the  nightingale  care  if  the 
 toad  despised  her  singing  ?  She  would 
 still  sing  on,  and  leave  the  cold  toad  to  his 
 dark  shadows.  And  what  care  I  for  the 
 sneers  of  men  who  grovel  upon  earth  ?  I 
 will  still  sing  on  in  the  ear  and  bosom  of 
 God  E.  IF.  Beecher. 
 
 SOBRIETY— Definition  of. 
 
 Sobriety  is  that  virtue  which  keeps  a 
 medium  in  the  pleasures  that  arise  from 
 eating  and  drinking,  with  respect  both  to 
 the  quantity  and  quality  thereof. 
 
 Limborch. 
 
 SOCIETY— a  Household. 
 
 Society  is  a  great  household,  of  which 
 God  is  the  Master.  Distribution  of  labour, 
 varieties  of  secular  employment,  are  ac- 
 cording to  His  will.  Professioiis  and 
 trades  are  all  spheres  of  Divine  service,  in 
 which  the  Sovereign  Proprietor  employs 
 mortals  as  His  workmen.  He  who  gives 
 angels  in  heaven  thtir  work  to  do,  gives 
 the  children  of  Adam  their  work  to  do. 
 
 J.  Stoiighton. 
 
 SOCIETY— Selection  of. 
 
 Reject  the  society  of  the  vicious  ;  shun 
 the  agreeable  infidel  and  the  accomplished 
 profligate.  Lay  it  down  as  a  fixed  rule, 
 that  no  brilliancy  of  connection,  no  allure- 
 ment of  rank  or  fashion,  no  agreeableness, 
 no  wit  or  flattery,  shall  tempt  you  to  asso- 
 ciate with  profligate  or  openly  irreligious 
 men.  Make  this  an  absolute  rule,  ft  is 
 impossible  not  to  suffer  by  its  neglect.  If 
 you  do  not  fall  into  their  vices,  still  your 
 heart  will  be  esti-anged  from  the  love  of 
 God.  Gresley. 
 
 SOLILOQUIES— Vain. 
 
 Such  vain  soliloquies  do  men  ordinarily 
 make  : — Thou  hast  (saith  a  man  to  himselt) 
 rare  endowments  of  soul,  and  wonderful 
 skill  and  ability  in  this  and  that  matter; 
 thou  art  master  of  excellent  things  ;  thou 
 hast  managed  very  important  business, 
 hast  accouii>lished  hard  designs,  hast 
 achieved  brave  feats,  with  great  wit  and 
 industry ;  thou  hast  framed  and  vented 
 very  curious  orations,  very  facetious 
 speeches,  very  nervous  and  pithy  dis- 
 courses; thou  hast  put  obligations  upon 
 this  man  and  that;  thou  hast  got  much 
 credit  and  interest  among  men ;  the  world 
 much  looketh  on  thee,  loveth  and  prizcth 
 thee  hugely,  resoundeth  with  thy  fame 
 and  praise;  surely  thy  worth  is  notable, 
 thy  deserts  are  egregious ;  bow  happy  art 
 thou  in  being  such  a  pei'son,  in  performing 
 such  things,  in  enjoying  such  advantngt's  ! 
 Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Company  in. 
 
 Let  us  march,  therefore,  intrepidly  wher- 
 ever we  are  led  by  the  course  of  human 
 accidents.  Wherever  they  lead  us,  on  what 
 const  soever  we  are  thrown  by  them,  we 
 shall  not  find  ourselves  absolutely  strangeis. 
 We  shall  meet  with  men  and  women,  crea- 
 tures of  the  same  figure,  endowed  with  the 
 same  faculties,  and  born  under  the  same 
 
8C8 
 
 SOLITUDE. 
 
 laws  of  nature.  We  shall  see  the  same 
 virtues  and  vires,  flowing  from  the  same 
 general  principle*,  but  varied  in  a  thou- 
 sand different  and  contrary  modes,  accord- 
 ing to  that  intinite  variety  of  laws  and 
 customs  which  are  established  for  the  same 
 universal  end,  the  preservation  of  society. 
 We  shall  feel  the  same  revolution  of  seasons, 
 and  the  same  sun  and  moon  will  guide  the 
 course  of  our  year.  The  same  azure  vault, 
 bespangled  with  stars,  will  be  everywhere 
 spread  over  our  heads.  There  is  no  part 
 of  the  world  from  whence  we  may  not 
 admire  those  planets,  which  roll,  like  ours, 
 in  different  orbits  round  the  same  central 
 sun ;  from  whence  we  may  not  discover  an 
 object  still  more  stupendous,  that  army 
 of'  fixed  stars,  hung  up  in  the  immense 
 space  of  the  universe,  innumerable  suns, 
 whose  beams  enlighten  and  cherish  the 
 nnknown  worlds  which  roll  around  them  ; 
 and  whilst  I  am  ravished  by  such  contem- 
 plations as  these,  whiUt  my  soul  is  thus 
 raised  up  to  heaven,  it  imports  me  little 
 «\hat  ground  I  tread  upon. 
 
 Lord  Bolinglrole. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Description  of. 
 
 There  are  two  kinds  of  ?olitude ;  the 
 first  consisting  of  insulation  in  space ;  the 
 other  of  isolation  of  the  spirit.  The  first 
 is  simply  separation  by  distance.  When 
 we  are  seen,  touched,  heard  by  none,  we 
 are  said  to  be  alone.  And  all  hearts  respond 
 to  the  truth  of  that  saying,  This  is  not 
 solitude :  for  sympathy  can  people  our 
 solitude  with  a  crowd.  The  fisherman  on 
 the  ocean  alone  at  night  is  not  alone  when 
 he  remembers  the  earnest  longings  which 
 are  arising  up  to  heaven  at  home  for  his 
 safety.  The  traveller  is  not  alone  when 
 the  faces  which  will  greet  him  on  his  arri- 
 val seem  to  beam  upon  him  as  he  trudges 
 on.  The  solitary  student  is  not  alone 
 when  he  feels  tliat  human  hearts  will 
 respond  to  the  truths  which  he  is  preparing 
 to  address  to  them. 
 
 The  other  is  loneliness  of  souL  There 
 are  times  when  hands  touch  ours,  but  only 
 send  an  icy  chill  of  unsympathising  indif- 
 ference to  the  heart ;  when  eyes  gaze  into 
 ours,  but  with  a  glazed  look  which  cannot 
 read  into  the  bottom  of  our  souls ;  when 
 words  pass  from  our  lips,  but  only  come 
 hack  as  an  echo  reverberated  without  reply 
 through  a  dreary  solitude;  when  the  mul- 
 titude throng  and  press  us,  and  we  cannot 
 say  as  Christ  said,  "  Somebody  hath  touched 
 me ;"  for  the  contact  has  been  not  between 
 soul  and  soul,  but  only  between  form  nnd 
 form.  F.  W.  Eolertson. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Disadvantages  of. 
 
 "  Obstinacy  and  pride,"  says  Plato,  "arc 
 the  inevitable  consequences  of  a  solitary 
 life;"  and  the  frequency  of  the  fact  cer- 
 
 tainly justifies  the  observation.  Eetired, 
 secluded  characters,  having  no  opportunity 
 of  encountering  the  opinions  of  others,  or 
 of  listening  to  any  other  judgment  than 
 their  own,  establish  a  species  of  tyranny 
 over  their  understandings,  and  check  that 
 free  excursion  of  the  intellect  which  the 
 discovery  of  truth  requires.  They  rejeiit 
 with  disdain  the  close  investigations  of 
 logic,  and  repel  all  attempts  to  examine 
 their  arguments,  and  expose  their  fallacies. 
 'J'heir  pre-conceived  opinions,  which  they 
 dignify  with  the  appellation  of  settled 
 truths;  and  mistake  for  indisputable  axioms, 
 hiive  infixed  themselves  so  deeply  in  their 
 minds,  that  they  cannot  endure  the  idea 
 of  their  being  rooted  out  or  removed  ;  and 
 they  are  fearful  of  submitting  them  to  the 
 test  of  controversy,  only  because  they  were 
 originally  received  without  due  examina- 
 tion, and  have  been  confirmed  by  the  im- 
 plicit consent  and  approbation  of  their 
 inferiors  and  dependants.         Zimmerman. 
 
 SOLITUDE— God  in. 
 
 When  we  withdraw  from  human  inter- 
 course into  solitude,  we  are  more  particu- 
 larly committed  in  the  presence  of  the 
 Divinity  ;  yet  some  men  retire  into  solitude 
 to  devise  or  perpetrate  crimes.  This  is 
 like  a  man  going  to  meet  and  brave  a  lion 
 in  his  own  gloomy  desert,  in  the  very  pre- 
 cincts of  his  dread  abode.  J.  Foster. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Longing  for. 
 
 Oh,  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness, 
 
 Some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade. 
 
 Where  rumour  of  oppression  and  deceit, 
 
 Of  unsuccessful  or  successful  war. 
 
 Might  never  reach  me  more!     My  ear  is 
 
 pain'd. 
 My  soul  is  sick,  with  every  day's  report 
 Of  wrong  and  outrage,  with  which  earth 
 
 is  fill'd.  Cowper. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Man  of. 
 
 The  man  with  a  taste  for  solitude  is 
 generally  a  great  reader,  and  has  an 
 imaginative  sympathy  with  alien  circum- 
 stances of  life.  He  tastes  the  wealth  of 
 Croesus,  he  touches  Juliet's  lips,  he  groans 
 with  Job  under  the  exhortations  of  his 
 friends.  By  this  curious  sympathy,  he 
 projects  himself  into  distant  times  anc 
 lands.  He  passes  into  Abraham's  tent ;  for 
 him  Pharaoh  is  not  a  mummy ;  Cleopatra 
 has  not  lost  her  swarthy  bloom.  He 
 peoples  vacancy;  he  selects  his  friends 
 from  the  race,  and  depends  neither  for 
 solace  nor  amusement  nor  interest  on  coti- 
 tcmporary  acquaintance.  The  man  who  is 
 familar  with  Homer  and  Shakespeare  need 
 not  tear  his  hair  because  Tompkins  omits 
 to  leave  his  card.  And,  in  this  way, 
 knowing  all  forms  and  conditions  of  lite — 
 success,    reverse,   health,   illness,   wealth, 
 
SOLITUEE- SORROWS. 
 
 807 
 
 poverty — tlie  vicissitudes  of  fortune  do  not 
 sin-prise  hiui,  or  take  him  oft"  his  guard. 
 If  he  is  called  upon  to  fight,  he  fights  like 
 a  general  on  ground  which  he  has  carefully 
 reconnoitred.  In  whatever  circumstances 
 he  is  placed,  he  is  never  lonely ;  such  a 
 man  has  companionship  on  a  throne  or  in 
 a  dungeon.  Wherever  he  goes  he  is  walk- 
 ing in  human  footsteps,  and  he  knows  in 
 whose  footsteps  he  walks.  1  can  feel  no 
 pain  which  some  one  has  not  felt  before 
 me ;  and  no  valuable,  spiritual  or  material, 
 can  come  into  my  possession  which  has 
 not  already  belonged  to  some  one. 
 
 JEiieas  Sage. 
 
 SOLITUDE— Pleasures  of. 
 
 There  is  a  pleasure  in  the  pathless  woods  ; 
 
 There  is  rapture  on  the  lonely  shore ; 
 There  is  society  where  none  intrudes. 
 
 By  the  deep  sea,  and  music  in  its  roar. 
 
 I  love  not  man  the  less,  but  nature  more 
 From  these  our  interviews,  in  which  I  steal 
 
 From  all  I  may  be,  or  have  been  before. 
 To  mingle  with  the  universe,  and  feel 
 What  I  can  ne'er  express,  yet  cannot  all 
 conceal.  Lord  Byron. 
 
 SOLITUDE— -Worldly. 
 
 Unhappy  he  !  who  from  the  first  of  joys — 
 
 Society — cut  off,  is  left  alone 
 
 Amid  this  world  of  death.     Day  after  day. 
 
 Sad  on  the  jutting  eminence  he  sits. 
 
 And  views  the  main  that  ever  tolls  below ; 
 
 Still  fondly  forming  in  the  farthest  verge. 
 
 Where   the  round  ether  mixes  with  the 
 
 wave. 
 Ships,  dim-discover'd,  dropping  from  the 
 
 clouds ; 
 At  evening,  to  the  setting  sun  he  turns 
 A  mournful  eye,  and  down  his  dying  heart 
 Sinks  helpless.  Thomson. 
 
 SORROW — Comfort  in. 
 
 I  say  there  is  comfort,  real  and  deep,  in 
 thinking  that  the  path  of  sorrow  we  tread 
 has  been  beaten  smooth  and  wide  by  the 
 feet  of  the  best  that  ever  trod  this  world ; 
 that  our  blessed  Saviour  was  a  Man  of 
 Sorrows,  and  that  the  best  of  His  Church 
 have  been  suffered  to  journey  by  no  other 
 path  tlian  that  their  Master  went.  It  is 
 not  alone  that  the  mourner  travels  through 
 this  vale  of  tears;  apostles  and  prophets 
 are  of  the  company;  saints  and  martyrs 
 go  with  him  ;  and  the  sorrowful  face  of  the 
 Great  Kedeemer,  though  sorrowful  now  no 
 more,  remains  for  ever  with  the  old  look  of 
 brotherly  sympathy  to  His  servants'  eyes 
 and  hearts.  Nothing  hath  come  to  us, 
 nothing  will  come  to  us,  but  has  been 
 shared  by  better  men.  Search  out  the 
 human  being  suffering  the  sharpest  sor- 
 row, and  we  can  match  it  in  the  best  of 
 the  Church  of  God.  Boi/d. 
 
 SORROW— Discipline  of. 
 
 Sorrow  is  the  noblest  of  all  discipline. 
 Our  nature  shrinks  from  it,  but  it  is  not 
 the  less  for  the  greatness  of  our  nature.  It 
 is  a  scourge,  but  there  is  healing  in  its 
 stripes.  It  is  a  chalice,  and  the  drink  is 
 bitter,  but  strength  proceeds  from  the  bit- 
 terness. It  is  a  crown  of  thorns,  but  it 
 becomes  a  wreath  of  light  on  the  brow 
 which  it  has  lacerated.  It  is  a  cross  on 
 which  the  spirit  groans,  but  every  Calvary 
 has  an  Olivet.  To  every  place  of  cruci- 
 fixion there  is  likewise  a  place  of  ascension. 
 The  sun  that  was  shrouded  is  unveiled,  and 
 heaven  opens  with  hopes  eternal  to  the 
 soul,  which  was  nigh  unto  despair. 
 
 S.  Giles. 
 
 SORROW— Path  of. 
 
 The  path  of  sorrow,  and  that  path  alone. 
 Leads  to  the   land  where   sorrow  is   un- 
 known ;. 
 No  trav'ller  ever  reach'd  that  blest  abode, 
 Who  found  not  thorns  and  briars  on  his 
 road.  Cowjper. 
 
 SORROW  OP  THE  WORLD. 
 
 The  sorrow  of  the  world,  though  it  seem 
 a  thick  homogeneous  covering  over  all 
 human  life,  is  yet  made  up  of  as  many  dif- 
 ferent kinds  as  that  carpet  of  green  which 
 covers  the  earth.  Here,  it  is  chiefly  the 
 pain  of  a  diseased  body ;  and  there,  the 
 eating  canker  of  a  discontented  mind.  At 
 one  time  the  loss  of  property,  at  another, 
 the  loss  of  friends,  is  the  more  immediate 
 cause  of  grief.  Some  are  distressed  be- 
 cause they  cannot  get  this  world's  good, 
 and  others  because  they  must  soon  part 
 with  that  which  they  have  gotten. 
 
 Arnot. 
 SORROWS— Hidden. 
 
 Many  a  heart  and  countenance  wears  a 
 semblance  of  gladness,  only  to  conceal  its 
 deep  sorrow.  We  cannot  always  judge  ot 
 a  man  by  what  he  seems.  Looking  at  the 
 sea  of  life,  we  see  it  studded  over  with 
 white  sails  and  gay  pennons,  and  sjiarkling 
 waves;  we  forget  its  eddying  whirljiools 
 and  treacherous  reefs  and  brooding  storms. 
 How  little  do  God's  minister's  know,  in 
 looking  down  from  their  pulpits  on  ap- 
 parently bright  faces,  gay  attire,  and  un- 
 dimmed  eyes,  how  many  breaking  hearts 
 there  are ;  sorrows  too  deep  for  utterance, 
 with  which  a  stranger  dare  not  inter- 
 meddle !  No,  we  cannot  let  all  that  looks 
 happy  pass  for  unmingled  joy.  It  is  often 
 the  reverse ;  like  the  wretched  singer  on 
 the  street,  who,  passing  from  door  to  door, 
 struggles  to  warble  her  gleeful  songs. 
 Singing !  It  is  a  poor  counterfeit  of 
 crushirig  sorrow.  Singing !  The  tones 
 are  joyous;  but  little  does  the  passer  by 
 know  of  the  long  tale  of  woe — the  widow's 
 
SOEEOWS— SOUI. 
 
 agony,   tbe   orplian's    tears,   the   desolate  | 
 hearth,  which  is  muffled  aud  dissembled 
 under  that  apparent  "  glee."  Macdujf. 
 
 SORROWS— False  Remedy  for. 
 
 You  that  in  your  sorrows  give  yourselves 
 to  mirth  and  pastime,  and  merry  meetimrs, 
 thinking  thereby  to  drive  them  away,  you 
 do  rather  increase  and  augment  them. 
 Just  like  the  pelican,  of  whom  it  is  reported, 
 that,  being  naturally  afraid  of  fire,  the 
 shepherds  are  wont  to  carry  some  coals 
 and  lay  them  by  her  nest,  and  the  poor 
 silly  creature  keeps  fluttering  with  her 
 wings,  thinking  thereby  to  extinguish  and 
 put  them  out,  but  does  but  inflame  and 
 kindle  them ;  and  by  this  means  the  fire 
 burns  both  her  nest  and  self  too.  So,  for 
 us  to  go  to  worldly  joys  and  pastimes  to 
 quench  the  sorrows  and  troubles  of  our 
 minds,  is  the  ready  way  rather  to  increase 
 than  remove  them.  Christopher  Love. 
 
 SOUL— Anger  in  the. 
 
 A  gentleman  in  India  once  raised  a  tiger 
 cub.  His  kindness  seemed  to  eradicate 
 the  ferocity  of  its  nature,  and  it  grew  up 
 as  a  pet.  One  day  its  owner,  being  alone 
 with  it  in  his  library,  caressed  it  and  gave 
 it  his  hand  to  lick.  The  rough  tongue  of  the 
 animal  grazed  his  skin,  and  gave  it  its  first 
 taste  of  blood.  Then  its  ferocious  nature 
 awoke.  Fury  gleamed  from  its  eyes,  and 
 crouching  itself,  it  made  ready  to  spring 
 upon  its  master.  Fortunately  the  gentle- 
 man had  a  loaded  pistol  on  his  table,  and 
 saved  his  life  by  shooting  his  former  pet. 
 
 Let  this  fact  illustrate  a  valual)]e  truth. 
 Let  the  sleeping  ferocity  of  the  tiger, 
 waked  by  the  taste  of  blood,  stand  for  a 
 figure  of  that  slumbering  passion  in  your 
 breast,  which  needs  but  the  taste  of  strong 
 temptation  to  rise  into  a  fearful  life,  and 
 break  over  the  feeble  defences  which  a 
 maltreated  conscience  and  pride  of  cha- 
 racter may  have  built  up  in  the  soul  to 
 protect  its  virtue.  One  moment  of  trium- 
 phant passion  may  suffice  to  undo  the  work 
 of  half  a  lifetime.  Dr.  Jeffers. 
 
 SOUL— Assimilation  of. 
 
 The  soul  is  always  stamped  with  the 
 same  characters  as  are  engraven  upon  the 
 end  it  aims  at,  and,  while  it  converses 
 with  it,  and  sets  itself  before  it,  "  it  is 
 turned  as  wax  to  the  seal,"  to  use  that 
 phrase  in  Job.  Man's  soul  conceives  all 
 its  thoughts  and  imaginations  before  his 
 ends,  as  Laban's  ewes  did  their  young 
 before  the  rods  in  the  watering-troughs. 
 He  that  pursues  any  worldly  interest  or 
 earthly  thing  as  his  end,  becomes  himself 
 also  "earthly;"  and  the  more  the  soul 
 directs  itself  to  God,  the  more  it  becomes 
 godlike,  deriving  a  print  of  that  glory  and 
 beauty  upon  itself  with  which  it  converseth, 
 
 as  it  is  excellently  set  forth  by  the  apostle  • 
 "  But  we  all,  with  open  face,  beholding,  as 
 in  a  glass,  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are 
 changed  into  the  same  image,  from  glory 
 to  glory."  The  Spirit  of  ambition  and 
 popularity,  that  so  violently  transports  tlie 
 minds  of  men  into  a  pursuit  of  vain  glory, 
 makes  them  as  vain  as  that  popular  air 
 they  live  upon ;  the  spirit  of  this  world, 
 that  di-aws  forth  a  man's  designs  after 
 worldly  interests,  makes  him  as  unstable, 
 inconstant,  tumultuous,  and  perplexed  a 
 thing  as  the  world  is.  On  the  contrary, 
 the  spirit  of  true  religion,  steering  and 
 directing  the  mind  and  life  to  God,  makes 
 it  a  uniform,  stable,  and  quiet  thing,  as 
 God  Himself  is;  it  is  only  true  goodness 
 in  the  soul  of  man,  guiding  it  steadily  and 
 unif  irmly  towards  God,  directing  it  and 
 all  its  actions  to  the  one  last  end  and  chief 
 good,  that  can  give  it  a  true  consistency, 
 and  composeduess  within  itself. 
 
 John  Smilh. 
 
 SOUL— Beauty  of  the. 
 
 And  what  is  it  that  constitutes  the 
 beauty  of  the  soul  ?  All  that  God  has 
 made  is  lovely  according  to  its  kind. 
 Look  at  the  little  flower,  aud  see  what 
 beauties  beam  upon  us  there.  Contem- 
 plate the  firmament  above  us,  the  meet 
 type  of  Jehovah's  immensity,  and  mark 
 the  surpassing  loveliness  which  is  there. 
 Or  examine  the  winged  insect  which 
 buzzes  around  us,  only,  perhaps,  to  vex 
 and  annoy— there  are  more  beauties  and 
 more  marks  of  wisdom  in  that  little  thing, 
 than  the  science  of  man  has  yet  been  aide 
 to  tell.  Now  if  even  these  mean,  these 
 transient  and  ephemeral  things,  are  clothed 
 in  loveliness  by  God,  may  we  not  expect  a 
 more  exquisite  beauty  in  that  immortal 
 thing,  the  soul  of  man  ?  It  was  once  in 
 the  image  of  God  ;  it  is  capable  of  wearing 
 that  image  again.  And  what  is  it  that 
 constitutes  its  beauty  ?  It  is  holiness. 
 It  is  purity,  like  the  purity  of  God.  It  is 
 perfection  like  His  perfection.  Dr.Tweedie. 
 
 Men  talk  of  Beauty — of  the  earth  and  sky. 
 And  the  blue  stillness  of  sweet  inland 
 waters. 
 And  search  all  language  with  a  lover's  eye 
 For  flowers  of  praise   to   deck   earth's 
 glorious  daughters. 
 And  it  is  well  within  the  soul  to  cherish 
 
 Such  love  for  all  things  beautiful  around. 
 But  there  is  Beauty  that  can  never  perish — 
 A  hidden  path  no  "  vulture's  eye  "  hath 
 found. 
 Vaitdy  ye  seek  it  who  in  Sense  alone 
 Wander  amid  the  sweets  the  world  hath 
 given ; 
 As  vainly  ye  who  make  the  Mind  the  throne, 
 While  the  Heart  bends  a  slave,  iufuUed, 
 driven. 
 
SOTTL. 
 
 Thou  who  wouldst  know  what  beauty  this 
 
 can  be, 
 Look  on  the  sunlight  of  the  Soul's  deep 
 
 pui-ity.  Anon. 
 
 SOUL— after  Death. 
 
 All  the  analogies  in  nature  are  against 
 the  supposition  that  the  disappearance, 
 through  death,  of  the  manifestation  of  the 
 living  jiowers  possessed  by  our  fellow-crea- 
 tures infers  the  extinction  of  t'nose  powers, 
 however  intimate  we  may  conceive  the  re- 
 lation to  be  whi(!h  may  subsist  between 
 soul  and  body.  Take,  for  instance,  a  piece 
 of  silver,  and  immerse  it  in  diluted  nitric 
 acid,  and  the  affinity  of  the  acid  and  the 
 metal  will  cause  them  to  unite,  a  brisk  ac- 
 tion will  ensue,  and  in  a  short  time  the  sil- 
 ver will  be  entirely  dissolved,  and  yet  the 
 liquid  will  remain  as  limpid  as  before. 
 What  then  has  become  of  the  solid  piece 
 of  silver  ?  Its  hardness,  lustre,  tenacity, 
 specific  gravity,  in  a  word,  all  the  charac- 
 teristics whicli  distinguished  it  as  a  metal, 
 are  gone,  its  very  form  has  vanished,  and 
 tlie  hard,  splendid,  opaque,  ponderous  metal 
 that  we  saw  existing  but  a  few  moments 
 before  is  apparently  annihilated.  Shall  we 
 conclude,  then,  that  the  metal  is  really 
 destroyed,  because  its  presence  is  no  longer 
 appreciable  by  our  senses  ?  We  must  so 
 conclude  on  the  principles  of  infidelity. 
 But  stay  :  place  a  piece  of  copper  in  the 
 solution,  to  which  it  has  a  stronger  affinity 
 than  to  silver,  and  the  latter  will  be  disen- 
 gaged and  fall  to  the  bottom  in  brilliant 
 metallic  crystals,  and  the  quantity  thus  de- 
 posited will  correspond  exactly  with  the 
 weight  of  the  metal  dissolved,  and  the  par- 
 ticles may  be  melted  and  the  piece  repro- 
 duced in  its  original  form.     R.  W.  Landis. 
 
 SOUL— Degradation  of  the. 
 
 Speak  I  to  men  v/ho,  though  their 
 frames  are  bent  and  hardened  by  toil,  were 
 nevertheless  created  in  God's  image — who, 
 though  their  hands  are  so  busily  engaged 
 with  this  world,  are  ]iossessed  of  undying 
 souls  ?  And  need  I  tell  them  what  a  de- 
 gradation it  is,  what  an  act  of  violence  to 
 their  better  nature,  when  that  soul  is 
 uncared  for,  when  its  wonderful  faculties 
 are  permitted  to  lie  dormant,  entombed 
 in  the  body  as  in  a  living  grave !  Ah 
 me!  to  think  of  such  a  soul  being  made 
 to  grind  like  a  blinded  Samson  at  the 
 wheel  of  your  sensual  pleasures — when  it 
 has  a  wing  scarcely  inferior  to  the  seraph's 
 in  strength,  and  might  yet  prove  capable 
 of  a  flight  as  high  !  To  think  of  its  being 
 confined  to  the  duties  of  the  workshop, 
 seldom  rising  above  the  question.  What 
 wages  can  I  earn  ? — when  the  boundless 
 universe  is  its  proper  field  of  discovery, 
 and  does  not  afford  it  a  too  ample  range ! 
 To  tliink  of  its  being  made  the  drudge  of 
 
 the  body,  knowing  no  better  employment 
 than  to  pamper  its  lusts,  when  it  could 
 make  the  highest  world  its  footstool,  and 
 while  suns  and  systems  roll  in  all  their 
 grandeur  at  its  feet,  could  levy  tril)ute 
 from  them  all !  The  degradation  of  such 
 a  soul  can  neither  be  described  nor  ima- 
 gined. In  vain  do  we  look  around  us  to 
 find,  or  exercise  the  imagination  to  conceive 
 of,  anything  that  will  adequately  illustrate 
 its  extent.  1  have  thought  of  the  eagle, 
 which,  soaring  aljove  the  range  of  human 
 vision,  gazes  with  unfaltering  eye  on  the 
 splendour  of  the  noonday  sun,  and  basks 
 in  his  golden  beams.  I  have  thought  of 
 the  degradation  of  the  noble  bird  when 
 chained  to  a  stone  in  the  dungeon  wall ; 
 I  thought  of  an  angel  smitten  with  in- 
 sanity, its  noble  intellect  deranged,  leaving 
 the  heaven  where  in  its  youth  it  soared 
 and  sang,  to  find  employment  in  heaping 
 together  the  dust  of  the  earth.  I  have 
 thought,  too,  of  the  king  reduced  to  the 
 condition  of  the  beggar  ;  and  thus  have  I 
 attempted  to  picture  by  comparison  the 
 most  deplorable  calamity — the  waste,  the 
 destruction  of  a  human  soul.  But  I  have 
 tried  in  vain.  Its  degradation  cannot  be 
 described  by  any  illustration  which  the 
 universe  can  furnish,  or  the  imagination 
 create.  Our  lamentations  indicate  what 
 we  cannot  measure  nor  describe.  "  How 
 are  the  mighty  fallen  !  Sow  has  the  gold 
 become  dim  ;  and  the  most  fine  gold 
 changed !"  Landels. 
 
 SOUL— Dependency  of  the. 
 
 There  are  some  plants  which  grow  right 
 up  erect  in  their  own  sturdy  self-sufficiency; 
 and  there  are  some  feeble  ones  which  take 
 hold  with  their  hands  and  clasp  and  climb. 
 The  soul  of  man  is  like  these  last.  Even  in 
 his  best  estate  he  was  not  meant  to  grow  in- 
 sulated and  stand  alone.  He  is  not  strong 
 enough  for  that.  He  has  not  within  himself 
 resources  sufficient  to  fill  himself.  He  is  not 
 fit  to  be  his  own  all-in-all.  The  make  of  his 
 mind  is  an  out-going,  exploring,  petitionary 
 make.  The  soul  of  man  is  a  clasping,  cling, 
 ing  soul,  seeking  to  something  over  which  it 
 can  spread  itself,  and  by  means  of  which  it 
 can  support  itself.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 God  has  formed  the  soul  of  man  of  a 
 leaning,  dependent  make ;  and  for  the 
 healthy  growth  and  joyful  development  of 
 that  soul  it  is  essential  that  he  should 
 have  some  object  far  higher  and  nobler 
 than  himself,  to  dispread  his  desires  and 
 delights  upon.  That  object  is  revealed  in 
 the  Gospel.  That  object  is  Immanuel. 
 His  divinity  is  the  Almighty  prop,  able  to 
 sustain  the  adhering  soul,  so  that  it  shall 
 never  perish  nor  come  into  condemnation 
 — the  omnipotent  support  which  bears  the 
 clinging  spirit  loftily  and  securely,  so  that 
 
810 
 
 SOUL. 
 
 the  whitling'  temptattons  which  vex  it 
 cannot  rend  it  from  the  Tree  of  Life,  and 
 that  the  mudd^v  plush,  which  soils  and 
 lieats  into  the  earth  its  sprawling  neigh- 
 bours, cannot  tarnish  the  verdant  serenity 
 and  limpid  glories  of  its  flowering  head. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 SOUL — Divine  Life  in  the. 
 
 Just  as  if  the  temperature  of  this 
 northern  hemisphere  were  raised  suddenly, 
 and  a  mighty  tropical  river  were  to  pour 
 its  fertilising  inundation  over  the  country, 
 the  result  would  be  the  impartation  of  a 
 vigorous  and  gigantic  growth  to  the  vege- 
 tation already  in  existence,  and  at  the  same 
 time  the  development  of  life  in  seeds  and 
 germs  which  had  long  lain  latent  in  the 
 soil,  incapable  of  veu'etation  in  the  unkindly 
 climate  of  their  birth.  Exactly  in  the 
 same  way,  the  flood  of  a  Divine  life,  poured 
 suddenly  into  the  souls  of  men,  enlarged 
 and  ennobled  qualities  which  had  been 
 used  already,  and  at  the  same  time  devel- 
 oped powers  which  never  could  have  be- 
 come apparent  in  the  cold,  low  temperature 
 of  natural  life.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 SOUL— Doors  of  the. 
 
 The  door  by  which  the  world  enters  the 
 soul,  in  the  act  of  opening,  shuts  the  door 
 by  which  heaven  enters.  Hence  it  happens 
 that  those  who  have  their  door  constantly 
 open  towards  the  world, have  their  door  con- 
 stantly shut  towards  heaven.  While  worldly 
 gains  and  pleasures,  scenes  and  sounds,  are 
 freely  entering  tlie  soul  by  an  open  door,  the 
 King  of  Heaven  stands  knocking  at  tlie 
 shut  door.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the 
 door  freely  opens  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  to 
 heavenly  gains  and  joys,  the  door  by  which 
 the  world  enters  closes.  The  worldly  door 
 being  shut,  the  Lord  Jesus  and  the  soul  ban- 
 quet together.  The  soul  is  then  in  her  glory, 
 she  is  dead  to  the  world,  and  the  world  is 
 dead  to  her.  J.  JPulsford. 
 
 SOUL— Faculties  of  the. 
 
 1.  The  intellectual.  This  class  includes 
 all  those  faculties  in  difi'erent  ways  con- 
 cerned in  the  general  function  of  knowinir ; 
 as  the  reason,  the  imagination,  the  bodily 
 senses,  and  the  moral  senses  (when  con- 
 sidered as  a  mere  source  of  knowledge  to 
 the  understanding). 
 
 2.  The  emotional.  This  class  includes 
 all  those  feelings  which  attend  in  any 
 manner  the  exercises  of  the  other  faculties. 
 
 3.  Will. 
 
 It  will  be  observed  that  the  functions  of 
 the  conscience  involve  faculties  belonging 
 to  both  the  first  and  second  class. 
 
 A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 SOUL— False  Props  of  the. 
 
 in&i  as  in  a  nei^lected  garden  you  may 
 
 see  the  poor  creepers  making  shift  to  sus- 
 tain themselves  as  best  they  can;  one 
 convolvulus  twisting  round  another,  and 
 both  dragging  on  the  ground;  a  clematis 
 leaning  on  the  door,  which  will  by-and-by 
 open  and  let  the  whole  mass  fall  down ;  a 
 vine  or  a  passion-flower  wreathing  round  a 
 prop  which  all  the  while  chafes  and  cuts 
 it ;  so  in  this  fallen  world  it  is  mournful 
 to  see  the  efforts  which  human  souls  are 
 making  to  get  some  sufficient  object  to 
 lean  upon  and  twine  round.  One  clasps  a 
 glittering  prop,  and  it  scathes  him.  The 
 love  of  money  blasts  his  soul,  and  it  hangs 
 round  its  self-chosen  stay  a  blighted, 
 withered  thing.  Another  spreads  himself 
 more  amply  over  a  broad  surface  of  creature 
 comforts — a  snug  dwelling,  and  a  well- 
 furnished  library,  and  a  pleasant  neigh- 
 bourhood, with  the  command  of  everything 
 which  heart  can  wish,  or  fortune  buy ; 
 but  death  opens  the  door,  and,  with  nothing 
 but  vacancy  to  bear  upon,  he  falls  over  on 
 the  oth^r  side,  a  helpless  and  dejected 
 being.  And  a  still  greater  number  groping 
 about  along  the  ground,  cleave  to  one 
 another,  and  intertwine  their  tendrils  mu- 
 tually, and  by  forming  friendships  and 
 congenial  intimacies,  and  close  relations, 
 try  to  satisfy  their  leaning,  loving  nature 
 in  this  way.  But  it  answers  little  end. 
 The  make  of  man's  soul  is  upward,  and 
 one  climber  cannot  lift  another  oft"  the 
 ground.  And  the  growth  of  man's  soul 
 is  luxuriant,  and  that  growth  must  be 
 stifled,  checked,  and  scanty,  if  he  have  no 
 larger  space  over  which  to  diflfuse  his  aspi- 
 rations, his  affections,  and  his  efforts,  than 
 the  surface  of  a  fellow  ere  iture's  soul. 
 
 Br.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 SOUL— Flowers  of  the. 
 
 Meekness,  Humility,  Purity,  Peace,  Con- 
 tentment, Gentleness,  Love,  Joy,  are  the 
 flowers  of  the  human  soul,  and  the  fruits 
 of  the  Holy  Spirit.  If  we  are  often  struck 
 with  the  charm  and  sweetness  of  the  hu- 
 man soul,  as  it  looks  upon  us  from  the 
 eyes  and  countenance  of  corrupt  material- 
 ism, what  exquisiteness  of  form  and  co- 
 louring, and  what  sweetness  of  expression, 
 will  the  perfected  spirit  give  to  its  own 
 heavenly  countenance  !  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 SOUL— Greatness  of  the. 
 
 The  soul  endow^ed  with  understanding, 
 reason,  wit,  judgment,  will,  memory,  ima- 
 gination; the  soul,  which  in  an  instant 
 flieth  from  pole  to  pole ;  descends  to  the 
 centre,  and  mounts  up  to  the  top  of  the 
 world ;  which  in  one  instant  is  in  a  thou- 
 sand several  places ;  which  fathoms  the 
 universe  without  touidiing  it ;  which  goes, 
 glisters,  sparkles;  which  ransacks  all  the 
 treasuries  and  magazines  of  nature  ;  which 
 finds    out   all    sorts   of   iuveutions,  which 
 
SOUL. 
 
 811 
 
 frameth  arts,  which  governeth  states, which 
 ordereth  worlds.  N.  Caussin. 
 
 SOUL— God's  Eest  in  the. 
 
 There  is  a  sublime  sense  in  which  His 
 kingdom  in  souls  is  His  rest — "  Rest  in 
 His  love."  The  highest  view  of  "  the  joy 
 of  salvation  "  is  that  it  is  the  Lord's  own 
 Sabbath  reflected  in  the  souls  of  His 
 people.  The  indescribable  calm,  the  glo- 
 rious sunshine,  the  Divine  plenitude  of  His 
 human  soul,  alighting  like  a  dove  from  the 
 heavenly  places  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock 
 and  the  bosom  of  the  wilderness,  to  make 
 all  gladsome  and  Divine,  where  otherwise 
 all  would  be  dreary  and  as  death's  shadow. 
 G.  Steward. 
 
 SOUL— Harmony  of  the. 
 
 For  as  in  the  body,  when  the  principal 
 pnrts,  as  the  heart  and  liver,  do  their 
 oliices,  and  all  the  inferior,  smaller  vessels 
 act  orderly  and  duly,  there  arises  a  sweet 
 eiijoyment  upon  the  whole,  which  we  call 
 health  ;  so  in  the  soul,  when  the  supreme 
 faculties  of  the  will  and  understanding 
 move  regularly,  the  inferior  passions  and 
 alTections  following,  there  arises  a  serenity 
 and  complacency  upon  the  soul,  infinitely 
 beyond  the  greatest  bodily  pleasures,  the 
 highest  quintessence  and  elixir  of  worldly 
 delights.  There  is  in  this  case  a  kind  of 
 fr 'grance  and  spiritual  perfume  upon  the 
 conscience  ;  much  like  what  Isaac  spoke  of 
 his  sou's  garments,  "  that  the  scent  of 
 them  was  like  the  smell  of  a  field  which 
 tlie  Lord  had  blessed."  Such  a  freshness 
 and  flavour  is  there  upon  the  soul,  when 
 diiily  watered  with  the  actions  of  a  virtuous 
 life.  Dr.  South. 
 
 ECUL — Hoa,viness  of. 
 
 There  are  days  which  rise  sadly,  which 
 proceed  without  the  sun,  which  are  extin- 
 guished without  a  glow.  The  trees  are  leaf- 
 less ;  the  fields  have  no  verdure;  clouds  hang 
 their  dark-gray  folds  on  every  side  of  the 
 horizon.  And  our  life  has  these  pallors, 
 these  glooms.  A  disgust  of  all  things  in- 
 vades the  soul ;  a  disgust  of  ourselves,  a 
 hundred  times  greater  than  of  others  ;  the 
 wretchedness  of  a  combat  where  defeat  has 
 followed  on  defeat ;  secret  shocks  to  our 
 faith  itself.  Oh,  in  these  moments  how 
 we  sigh  for  our  deliverance  ;  for  the  splen- 
 dour of  truth  J  for  the  hallelujah  of  the 
 skies.  llaclame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 SOUL— Influence  of  Gold  on  the. 
 
 A  lighted  piece  of  paper  laid  flat  on  a 
 piece  of  metal  will  go  out,  for  the  metal 
 absorbs  the  heat,  and  starves  the  flame ; 
 so  does  gold,  laid  close  to  the  soul,  cause 
 the  holy  flame  of  love  to  God  to  shrink  and 
 die.  The  heart  cannot  embrace  both  God 
 and  money ;  and,  therefore,  if  it  give  its 
 
 afl^ection  and  solicitude  to  the  latter,  it  ia 
 guilty  of  idolatry  (Col.  iii,  5).  Anon. 
 
 SOUL— Insufficiencies  for  the. 
 
 Certainly,  beloved,  when  a  man  can  sow 
 grace  in  the  furrows  of  the  field,  when  he 
 can  fill  his  barns  with  glory,  when  he  can 
 plough  up  heaven  out  of  the  earth,  and 
 extract  God  out  of  the  creatures,  then  he 
 may  be  able  to  find  that  in  them  which 
 shall  satisfy  his  desires.  But  till  then,  let 
 a  man  have  all  the  exquisitest  curiosities 
 of  nature  heaped  into  one  vessel;  let  him 
 be  moulded  out  of  the  most  delicate  ingre- 
 dients and  noblest  principles  that  the  world 
 can  contribute  ;  let  there  be  in  his  body  a 
 concurrency  of  all  beauty  and  feature ;  in 
 his  nature,  an  eminence  of  all  sweetness 
 and  ingenuity;  in  his  mind,  a  conspiration 
 of  the  politest  and  most  choice  varieties  of 
 all  kinds  of  learning;  yet  still  the  spirit  of 
 that  man  is  no  whit  more  valuable  and 
 precious,  no  whit  more  proportionable  to 
 eternal  iiappiness,  than  the  soul  of  a  poor 
 and  illiterate  beggar.  Bp.  Eei/nolds. 
 
 SOUL— Insurance  of  the. 
 
 A  friend  of  mine  once  applied  to  a  man 
 to  insure  his  property  in  a  Fire  Office,  of 
 which  he  was  an  agent.  The  man  treated 
 the  request  with  indifference,  and  said  his 
 property  was  secure  enough  as  it  was,  and 
 he  did  not  fear  the  fire.  A  few  days  after- 
 wards the  fire  broke  out  in  some  part  of 
 the  premises,  and  consumed  all  he  had. 
 He  met  the  agent  a  few  days  after,  and 
 said,  "  O,  Mr.  — ,  I  wish  I  had  taken  your 
 advice  and  insured  my  property  in  your 
 ofiice.     I  am  a  ruined  man." 
 
 How  important  it  is  to  make  sure  the 
 soul  against  the  fires  of  hell.  Many 
 sinners  now  treat  the  Gospel  and  its  mi- 
 nisters with  indifference;  they  think  their 
 souls  are  secure  enough  as  they  are ;  they 
 do  not  dread  the  fire  of  Divine  vengeance. 
 But  in  an  hour  they  know  not  their  souls 
 shalt  be  engulphed  in  the  consuming 
 flames  ;  and  when,  alas,  it  is  too  late,  they 
 shall  wish  they  had  accepted  the  invita- 
 tions of  the  Gospel  to  believe  and  be 
 saved.  John  Bate. 
 
 SOUL— Life  of  the. 
 
 The  Divine  life  of  the  soul  is  not  to  be 
 fed  and  nourished  by  the  profound  dis- 
 coveries  of  science,  or  the  recondite  axioms 
 of  philosophy,  or  the  brilliant  flowers  of 
 genius,  or  the  dreams  of  a  poetical  imagi- 
 nation. It  ascends  to  a  higher  and  a 
 diviner  source  ;  it  aspires  towards  the  ali- 
 ments of  its  native  clime.  The  bread  that 
 comes  down  from  heaven,  and  the  water 
 that  flows,  pure  as  crystal,  from  beneath 
 the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb,  can 
 alone  feed,  and  nourish,  and  refresh  this 
 
812 
 
 SOUL. 
 
 liiddon  principle.  Jesus  is  its  sustenance ; 
 and  the  Gospel,  as  it  untblils  Him  in  His 
 glory  and  grace,  is  the  spiritual  granary 
 from  whence  its  daily  food  is  drawn.  To 
 this  it  repairs,  otlentimes  pressed  with 
 hunger,  or  panting  with  thirst,  weary  and 
 exhausted,  drooping  and  faint,  and  it  finds 
 its  doctrines  and  its  precepts,  its  promises 
 and  its  admonitions,  its  exhortations  and 
 revelations,  a  "  feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast 
 of  wines  on  the  lees :  of  fat  things  full  of 
 marrow,  of  wines  ou  the  lees  well  refined." 
 Dr.  Wiuslow. 
 
 SOUL— loss  of  the. 
 
 The  vanity  of  the  purchase  and  the  value 
 of  the  loss,  is  such  that  no  man,  conscious 
 of  his  immortality  in  the  next  state,  but 
 must  acknowledge  that  he  is  au  infinite 
 loser  and  prodigious  fool,  that  gains  tlie 
 world  hy  the  loss  of  his  soul.  It  is  said  of 
 the  ancient  Germans,  that  in  their  com- 
 merce with  the  Romans,  receiving  silver 
 for  their  amber,  that  has  no  virtue  but  to 
 draw  straws  to  it,  they  were  amazed  at  the 
 pi-ice.  And  certainly  the  great  tempter 
 cannot  but  wonder  at  the  foolish  exchange 
 that  men  make,  in  giving  their  immortal 
 souls  to  him  for  perishing  vanities ;  and 
 having  this  scornful  advantage  will  much 
 more  upbraid  them  hei  eaf ter,  than  ever  he 
 allured  them  here. 
 
 Hence  it  was  a  good  saying  of  one  to  a 
 great  lord,  upon  his  showing  him  his  stately 
 house  and  pleasant  gardens  :  "  Sir,  you  had 
 need  make  sure  of  heaven,  or  else  when 
 you  die,  you  will  be  a  very  great  loser." 
 Yes,  "  and  what  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he 
 gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own 
 soul  ?"  W.  Bates. 
 
 SOUL— Meditative. 
 
 As  "the  skin  of  Moses'  face  shone" 
 when  he  liad  been  holding  converse 
 with  the  Lord  on  Mount  Sinai,  so  will 
 the  soul  that  ascends  to  "  Mount  Sion," 
 and  meditates  on  the  "city  of  the  living 
 God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,"  with  all  its 
 appropriate  and  Divine  accompaniments, 
 reflect  in  some  degree  its  loveliness  and 
 splendour ;  according  to  that  beautiful 
 similitude  of  St.  Paul,  where  he  is  de- 
 scribing the  excellency  of  the  Gospel  dis- 
 pensatiim :  "  We  all,  with  open  face, 
 beholding  as  in  a  glass,"  or  mirror,  "  the 
 glory  of  the  Lord,  are  changed  into  the 
 same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as 
 by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord."         Bp.  Mant. 
 
 SOUL— Only  One. 
 
 God,  saith  Chrysostom,  hath  given  a  man 
 two  eyes  ;  if  he  lose  one  he  hath  another  : 
 but  he  hath  but  one  soul ;  if  he  lose  that 
 it  is  irrecoverable,  it  can  never  be  made  up 
 again.  T.  Watson. 
 
 SOUL — Opinions  aljont  the. 
 
 Musicians  think  our  souls  are  harmonies  ; 
 
 Piiysicians  hold  that  they  complexions 
 be; 
 Epicures  make  them  swarms  of  atomies  ; 
 
 Which  do  by  chance  into  our  bodies  flee. 
 
 One  thinks  the  soul  is  air ;  another  fire, 
 Another  blood,  diffused  about  the  heart  j 
 
 Another  saith  the  elements  conspire. 
 And  to  her  essence  each  doth  yield  a 
 part. 
 
 Some   think  one    gen'ral  soul   fills   every 
 
 brain. 
 
 As  the  bright  sun  sheds  lights  in  every 
 
 star ; 
 
 And  others  think  the  name  of  soul  is  vain. 
 
 And  that  we  only  well-mix'd  bodies  are. 
 
 Thus  these  great  clerks  their  little  wisdom 
 show. 
 While    with    their    doctrines    they   at 
 hazard  play ; 
 Tossing  their  light  opinions  to  and  fro, 
 To  mock  the  lewd,  as  learn'd  iu  this  as 
 they; 
 For  no  crazed  brain  could  ever  yet  pro- 
 pound. 
 Touching  the   soul  so  vain  and  fond  a 
 thought, 
 But  some  among  these  masters  have  been 
 found. 
 Which,  in  their  schools,  the  self-snme 
 thiiig  have  taught.  Sir  J.  Davies. 
 
 SOUL— Passions  of  the. 
 
 How  mighty  are  the  passions  of  the 
 soul,  how  strong  its  hate.  When  once  it 
 penetrates  an  object,  its  hold  is  unshaken. 
 The  principle  that  binds  the  planets  lets 
 go  its  grasp  in  the  wreck  of  dissolving 
 nature ;  but  mortal  hate  rises  victorious 
 over  the  dissolution  of  all  things.  Survey 
 its  love.  The  shock  of  battle,  the  loss  of 
 all  things,  the  flames  of  the  martyr's  stake, 
 death  itself,  which  destroys  everything  pliy- 
 sical,  cannot  shake  it,  for  "  it  is  stronger 
 than  death."  Behold  its  ambition.  Earth 
 is  lost  in  it,  as  a  drop  in  the  ocean.  The  uni- 
 verse cannot  fill  it.  Measure  now  the  depths 
 of  its  deathless  passions,  and  then  all  the 
 depths  of  its  capacity  to  suffer.  O  for  some 
 fountain  to  cool  its  passions  !  O  for  some 
 balm  to  heal  its  wounds  !  O  for  some  atio-^ 
 dyne  to  moderate  its  pulsations.  Religion 
 leads  to  "  a  fountain  filled  with  blood,  drawn 
 from  Immanuel's  veins."        £p.  Thomson. 
 
 Love  fools  her,  ambition  mocks  her, 
 coveteousness  rusts  her,  lusb  enflames  her; 
 hope  tickles  her,  pleasure  melts  her,  despair 
 depresses  her,  anger  burns  her,  hatred  sours 
 her,  envy  gnaws  her,  jealousies  prick  her, 
 revenge  exasperates  her,  cruelty  hardens 
 her,  fear  freezes  her,  and  sorrow  consumes 
 her.  2f.  Caussin. 
 
SOUI. 
 
 813 
 
 SOUL— Portion  of  the. 
 
 A  great  thinker  has  said,  "  Give  a  man 
 half  a  universe,  and  he  will  at  once  quarrel 
 with  the  holder  of  the  other  half.  What 
 he  needs  is  God's  infinite  universe  all  to 
 himself."  I  do  not  think  God's  infinite 
 universe  would  do.  I  think  David  com- 
 prehended it  better  when  he  said,  "  My 
 soul  pauteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God." 
 There  is  that  in  man  which  the  knowledge 
 of  the  living  God  only  can  satisfy,  which 
 having  God,  has  all  things  in  Him. 
 
 J.  B.  Brown. 
 
 SOUL— Punishment  of  the. 
 
 The  more  gross  the  subject,  the  less  sus- 
 ceptible of  pain ;  as  a  beast  cannot  sutler 
 as  a  man,  nor  a  man's  body  as  his  soul. 
 Hence  the  soul  being  the  highest,  tenderest 
 and  most  susceptible  part  of  man,  it  is 
 curable  of  the  greatest  punishment.  And 
 the  more  intelligent  and  refined  the  soul, 
 the  more  sensibly  will  the  punishment  be 
 felt.  John  Bate. 
 
 SOUL— Kegenerate. 
 
 The  regenerate  soul  hath  three  principal 
 faculties,  as  the  natural  bodj'  hath  three 
 principal  members :  the  eye,  hand,  and  foot. 
 In  the  soul  the  eye  is  knowledge,  the  hand 
 is  faith,  the  foot  is  obedience.  The  soul 
 without  knowledge  is  like  Bartimeus, 
 blind  J  without  faith,  like  the  man  with  the 
 withered  hand ;  without  obedience,  like 
 Mephibosheth,  lame.  T.  Adams. 
 
 SOUL— Religion  in  the. 
 
 Religion  in  the  soul  of  man  is  like  some 
 precious  thing  in  a  vessel  of  ill-seasoned 
 timber.  Not  only  does  the  rough  wear  of 
 this  rude  world  sore  batter  it,  but  the 
 burning  sun  of  secularity,  the  glow  of  daily 
 business,  is  enough  to  fill  it  full  of  flaws 
 and  fissures ;  and  it  is  only  by  putting  it 
 to  steep  overuight  in  the  pool  of  Siloah 
 that  the  chinks  will  close,  and  the  craclied 
 and  leaky  firkin  be  rendered  fit  for  another 
 morning's  use.  Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 SOUL— Responsible  for  the. 
 
 "  Two  things  a  master  commits  to  his 
 servant's  care,"  saith  one — "  the  child  and 
 the  child's  clothes."  It  will  be  a  poor  ex- 
 cuse for  the  servant  to  say  at  his  master's 
 return,  "  Sir,  here  are  all  the  child's  clothes 
 neat  and  clean ;  but  the  child  is  lost !" 
 Much  so  with  the  account  that  many  will 
 give  to  God  of  their  souls  and  bodies  at 
 the  great  day.  "  Lord,  here  is  my  body  ; 
 I  was  very  grateful  for  itj  I  neglected 
 nothing  that  belonged  to  its  content  and 
 welfare ;  but  as  for  my  soul,  that  is  lost 
 and  cast  away  for  ever;  I  took  little  care 
 and  thought  about  it  \"  Flavel. 
 
 SOUL— Ruin  of. 
 
 Suppose  a  luxuriant  harvest,  shooting 
 into  perfection,  waving  in  the  wind,  ripen- 
 ing in  the  sun,  and  flattering  the  fond  hope 
 of  the  husbandman  by  the  fair  promise  of 
 abundance.  Should  you  see  this  hope 
 blasted,  and  the  whole  produce  of  the  fields 
 destroyed  by  a  universal  blight,  or  an  over- 
 whelming tempest,  you  would  weep  over 
 the  desolation,  and  turn  with  horror  from 
 the  scene.  Suppose  a  community,  cemented 
 by  friendship,  inspired  by  patriotism,  obe- 
 dient to  the  laws,  rising  in  opulence,  in 
 dignity,  in  character  :  Again,  suppose  it 
 divided  by  suspicion,  irritated  by  parties, 
 distracted  by  violence  ;  its  cities  depopu- 
 lated, its  fields  drenched  with  the  blood  of 
 their  inhabitaiits,  and  anarchy  and  civil 
 discord  completing  its  destruction.  Were 
 you  witness  of  this  mournful  tragedy; 
 were  you  spectators  of  these  actsof  violence, 
 did  you  behold  this  "  wide-spread  ruin," 
 what  language  could  describe  the  agitation 
 of  your  feelings  ? 
 
 But  what  are  these  when  compared  to 
 the  destruction  of  man  ?  What  can  so  affect 
 our  feelings,  as  the  soul  of  man  in  ruins  ? 
 This  fair  temple  of  God,  broken  down  by 
 vice,  and  made  the  abode  of  every  frightful 
 monster  and  detestable  abomination  !  This 
 efflux  of  the  Divinity,  sinking  into  de- 
 pravity, and  wretchedness,  and  infamy,  till 
 it  is  swept  by  the  besom  of  destruction 
 and  driven  by  an  avenging  God  into  the 
 pit  of  everlasting  misery.  R.  Watson. 
 
 SOUL— Seeking. 
 
 When  Archimedes  had  found  out  the 
 resolution  of  a  question  in  mathematics,  he 
 cried  out,  as  one  ravished,  "  I  have  found  it, 
 I  have  found  it ;"  so  when  a  soul  that  has 
 been  seeking  Jesus  Christ,  meets  with 
 Him,  she,  ravished  with  joy,  cries  out,  "  I 
 have  found  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth." 
 
 Venning. 
 SOUL— Thirsty. 
 
 Artaxerxes,  ready  to  perish  of  thirst,  was 
 constrained  to  drink  puddle  water,  of  which 
 he  professed  that  he  never  drank  wine 
 with  more  delight.  To  the  thirsty  soul 
 every  bitter  thing  is  sweet.  Ibid. 
 
 SOUL— Value  of  the. 
 
 The  whole  visible  world,  comprehending 
 the  heavens  and  the  earth,  is  not  equal  in 
 value  to  a  single  soul.  The  world  knows 
 not  that  it  exists,  is  not  entertained  with 
 its  own  beauty,  is  altogether  lumpish  and 
 passive ;  whereas  the  soul  has  capacities  for 
 knowledge,  virtue,  and  happiness,  which 
 God  alone,  who  is  iufinite,  can  fill. 
 
 R.  Grove. 
 SOUL— a  "Watchful. 
 
 A  watchful  soul  is  a  soul  upon  the  win 
 
 in-, 
 
814 
 
 SOUL -SPIRIT. 
 
 a  soul  out  of  gunshot,  a  soul  upon  a  rock,  a 
 soul  in  a  castle,  a  soul  above  the  clouds,  a 
 soul  held  fast  in  everlasting  arms. 
 
 T.  BrooJcs. 
 
 SOUL— Youth  of  the. 
 
 You  Lave  heard  of  persons  in  extreme 
 age,  whose  spirits  have  been  dead  to  every 
 thing  earthly,  and  who  have  long  ceased 
 to  hear  familiar  voices ;  but  on  being  asked 
 whether  they  knew  Jesus,  have  shown 
 that,  in  the  ground  of  their  spiritual 
 nature,  they  were  younger  than  in  their 
 youth.  It  would  seem  that  the  spirit  had 
 retired  deeply  within,  to  dwell  at  coiirt 
 with  Jesus,  and  would  not,  therefore,  re- 
 spond to  calls  from  the  flesh,  and  the 
 world.  But  within  the  dead  body,  and  at 
 a  considerable  depth  from  the  withered 
 face,  the  spirit  abides  young  and  genial  as 
 spring  flowers,  and  serene  as  the  everlast- 
 ing stars  ;  and  only  touch  the  ripht  cord, 
 and  you  shall  see  tlie  spirit  come  forth  and 
 spread  the  sunshine  of  youth  over  the 
 furrows  of  age.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of 
 centuries  or  millenniums  to  write  one  mark 
 of  age  on  the  soul  where  Jesus  is. 
 
 J.  Fulsford. 
 
 SOUL  IN  THE  BODY. 
 
 Our  soul  is  in  our  body,  as  the  bird  is  in 
 the  shell,  which  soon  breaks,  and  the  bii-d 
 flies  out :  the  shell  of  the  body  breaking, 
 the  soul  flies  into  eternity.         T.  Watsun. 
 
 SOULS— Earthly. 
 
 Such  souls  as  are  here  lodged,  as  Plato 
 speaks,  are  "  heavy  behind,"  and  are  con- 
 tinually pressing  down  to  this  world's 
 centre :  and  though,  like  the  spider,  they 
 may  appear  sometime  moving  up  and  down 
 aloft  in  tlie  air,  yet  they  do  but  sit  in 
 the  loom,  and  move  in  that  web  of  their 
 own  gross  fancies,  which  they  fasten  and 
 pin  to  some  earthly  thing  or  other. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
 S0ULS-Fe3hle. 
 
 Feeble  souls  are  like  those  tracks  of  land 
 which  have  neither  depth  nor  richness  of 
 soil,  yet,  however  arid,  produce  something 
 to  serve  the  world.  The  sandy  and  stormy 
 deserts  of  the  Cajie  are  covered  with  heath 
 of  every  line  and  form  to  beautify  the 
 scene  and  to  charm  the  traveller's  eye. 
 Even  so  the  feeblest  soul  can  display  some 
 phase  of  feeling  and  character  that  shall 
 add  a  beauty  to  its  sphere.  The  world 
 wants  the  heath  as  well  as  the  oak,  and 
 the  genial  heavens  shine  alike  on  both. 
 "  Even  the  most  feeble  are  necessary." 
 
 Br.  Thomas. 
 
 SOULS— Restless. 
 
 As  that  snow-white  dove  of  Noah's  ark 
 cpuld  Hud  no  rest  for  its  weary  wings  amid  I 
 
 the  wild  expanse  of  earth's  moving  waters 
 so  there  are  souls  which  are  ever  on  the 
 wing,  hovering  over  the  changing,  transient 
 tilings  of  this  world,  seeking  the  rest  of 
 peace,  but  cannot  find  it.  The  dove  found 
 rest  by  returning  to  the  ark,  so  may  the 
 weary  soul  by  going  to  Christ. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 SOULS— Thin. 
 
 There  are  some  men's  souls  that  are  so 
 thin,  so  almost  destitute  of  what  is  the 
 true  idea  of  soul,  that  were  not  the  guardian 
 angels  so  keen-sighted,  they  would  alto- 
 gether overlook  them.         S.  W.  Beeeher. 
 
 SOULS  FULL  OF  GOD. 
 
 The  souls  of  those  men  that  are  full  of 
 God,  as  the  name  of  Elijah  is,  which  in- 
 cludes two,  if  not  three,  of  the  Divine 
 names  in  it,  cannot  but  draw  our  eyes 
 toward  them  ;  but  then  they  so  dazzle  us 
 with  their  lustre  and  brightness,  they 
 strike  us  into  such  amazement  at  their 
 perfections,  that  the  weakness  of  man's 
 nature  hath  been  apt  to  give  no  less  than 
 Divine  veneration  to  such  persons. 
 
 Bp.  BatricJc. 
 
 SPEECH— Description  of. 
 
 Speech  is  the  golden  harvest  that  followeth 
 the  flowering  of  thought ; 
 
 Yet  oftentimes  runneth  it  to  husk,  and  the 
 gains  be  withered  and  scanty. 
 
 Speech  is  reason's  brother,  and  a  kingly 
 prerogative  of  man. 
 
 That  likeneth  him  to  his  Maker,  who  spake, 
 and  it  was  done : 
 
 Spirit  may  mingle  with  spirit,  but  sense 
 requireth  a  symbol; 
 
 And  speech  is  the  body  of  a  thought,  with- 
 out which  it  were  not  seen.      Tupper. 
 
 Speech  is  indeed  the  rudder  that  steeteth 
 human  afl'airs,  the  spring  that  setteth  the 
 wheels  of  action  on  going.        Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 Speech  is  a  child  of  thought,  which  the 
 mind  always  travaileth  and  teemeth  with, 
 and  which  after  its  birth  is  wont  in  fea- 
 tures to  resemble  its  parent.  Ibid. 
 
 SPEECH— a  Test  of  Mental  Character. 
 
 Speech  is  commonly  judged  the  truest 
 character  of  the  mind,  and  the  surest  test 
 of  inward  worth,  as  that  which  discloseth 
 the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  which  un- 
 locketh  the  closet  of  the  breast,  whicii 
 draws  the  soul  out  of  her  dark  recesses 
 into  open  light  and  view,  which  rendereth 
 our  thoughts  visible,  and  our  intentions 
 palpable.  Ibid 
 
 SPIRIT— Activity  of. 
 
 Inertness  is  the  quality  of  matter;  nei- 
 
SPIRIT. 
 
 815 
 
 ther  dust  nor  globe  would  ever  move,  were 
 it  not  set  in  motion  by  a  foreign  force. 
 And  whilst  life  in  trees  and  flesh  moves,  it 
 ever  moves  by  impulses  over  which  it  has 
 no  control ;  hence  in  these  forms  it  moves 
 in  the  beaten  track  of  ages.  Each  plant 
 acts  under  the  same  circumstances  in  the 
 same  way — rejects  and  appropriates,  as  did 
 the  first  parent  of  its  kind  which  grew  in 
 the  garden  of  Eden.  Each  individual  of 
 the  various  tribes  of  earth,  and  air,  and 
 sea,  does  the  same  thing,  in  tlie  same  man- 
 ner as  did  its  primal  sire.  But  spirit  we 
 consider  self-moving  and  self-controlling. 
 Each  chooses  its  own  line  of  action  and  de- 
 termines its  own  pace.  Each  is  a  distinct 
 fountain  of  influences,  outpouring  streams 
 that  never  flowed  before;  a  self-acting 
 machine  performing  evolutions  and  pro- 
 ducing results,  the  like  of  which  has  never 
 been  before  and  never  will  be  ai;aiu. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 SPIRIT— Earthly. 
 
 That  is  a  very  earthly  and  flat  spirit  in 
 religion  which  sinks,  like  the  lees  to  the 
 bottom ;  or  rather,  it  is  like  that  terra 
 damnata  which  the  chymists  speak  of 
 having  no  vigour,  life,  or  activity  left  in  it, 
 being  truly  dead  to  Gou,  and  reprobate  to 
 anything  of  heaven.  John  Smith. 
 
 SPIRIT— Heavenly. 
 
 The  spirit  which  is  from  heaven  is  always, 
 out  of  an  inbred  nobleness  which  bears  it 
 up,  carried  upwards  again  towards  heaven 
 from  whence  it  came,  powerfully  resisting 
 all  things  that  would  deprive  it  of  God,  or 
 hinder  from  returning  to  its  original ;  it  is 
 always  moving  upwards  in  an  even  and 
 steady  way  towards  God,  from  whence  it 
 came,  leaving  the  dark  regions  of  hell  and 
 death  under  it ;  it  resists  hell  and  darkness 
 by  assimilating  and  conforming  itself  to 
 God ;  it  resists  darkness  in  the  armour  of 
 light ;  it  resists  death  and  destruction  by 
 the  power  of  Divine  love.  Ibid. 
 
 SPIRIT— Identity  of. 
 
 There  is  no  permanent  identity  in  any 
 corporeal  organisation  ;  such  organisation 
 is  composed  of  particles,  all  of  which  are  in 
 a  state  of  constant  flux.  Corporeally  the 
 man  cannot  say  that  he  is  the  same  as  he 
 was  wiien  a  youth.  The  body  is  like  a 
 river  ;  every  particle  is  in  rapid  flow — in 
 constant  circulation — and  is  the  same  only 
 in  form  and  function,  never  a  moment  the 
 same  in  all  its  materials.  But  wc  think  of 
 spirit  as  being  ever  the  same  in  essence;  a 
 simple  indivisible  substance,  that  can  never 
 lose  a  particle  of  itself,  and  that  can  never 
 have  any  new  element  wrought  into  its 
 being.  It  may  change  its  conditions,  it 
 may  vary  its  moods,  it  may  alter  its  realms 
 of  action,  and  new  thoughts  and  feelings 
 
 may  stream  through  it  in  endless  succes- 
 sion ;  but  in  its  essence  it  is  evermore  the 
 same;  the  everlastingly  identical  ego,  or 
 self  of  being.  Truly  does  Dr.  Reid  re- 
 mark, "  that  all  mankind  place  their  per- 
 sonality in  something  that  cannot  be  divi- 
 ded, or  consist  of  parts."         Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 SPIRIT— Reflectiveness  of. 
 
 By  this  we  mean,  the  power  to  turn 
 back  upon  itself,  study  its  own  nature, 
 translate  its  own  sensations  into  ideas,  and 
 create  a  w(jrld  of  thought  of  its  own — a 
 power  to  rise  from  the  particular  to  the 
 universal — the  discordant  to  the  harm(.- 
 nious — the  creature  to  the  Creator — a 
 power  to  link  the  most  solitary  fact  in  fel- 
 lowship with  an  eternal  principle,  and 
 bring  the  wildest  and  harshest  sounds  into 
 the  scale  of  intellectual  music — a  power 
 which,  from  the  facts  of  its  own  conscious- 
 ness, builds  up  a  superstructure  for  itself  m 
 which  it  can  live  asanindei)endent  monarch, 
 secure  from  all  foreign  invaders  and  inde- 
 pendent of  all  help ;  where  it  can  worship 
 as  a  seraph  under  the  ever-brightening 
 rays  of  God — a  power  by  which  the  mind 
 reads  the  philosophy,  feels  the  poetry,  and 
 chants  the  anthems  writ  on  creation's 
 hieroglyphic  page.  Brutes  have  no  such 
 power  as  this ;  the  universe  is  nothing  but 
 sensation  to  them ;  it  gives  them  no  idea  ; 
 they  cannot  spell  a  word  from  any  part  of 
 its  various  and  vast  revelations. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 SPIRIT— Religionsness  of. 
 
 By  this  we  mean  a  tendency  to,  and  ca- 
 pacity for,  worship.  In  the  tribes  of  irra- 
 tional existences  around  us  we  discover  no 
 
 such  principle  as  this But  sjpirit 
 
 we  regard  as  the  offspring  of  the  "  Father 
 of  spirits,"  partaking  of  His  essence,  pos- 
 sessing the  filial  element  as  its  primary  im- 
 pulse ;  and  having,  therefore,  both  a  native  . 
 tendency  and  a  moral  obligation  to  reve- 
 rence, praise,  and  serve  Him.  Spirit  feels 
 itself  morally  related  to  Him,  has  its  eye 
 wistfully  fixed  upon  Him ;  and  its  heart 
 "  cries  out  for  the  living  God." 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 SPIRIT— Superiority  of. 
 
 The  whole  system  of  bodies,  the  firma- 
 ment, the  stars,  the  earth,  the  kingdoms  of 
 it,  are  not  fit  to  be  opposed  in  value  to  the 
 lowest  mind  or  spirit ;  because  spirit  is 
 endued  with  the  knowledge  and  apprehen- 
 sion of  all  this,  whereas  bodt/  is  utterly 
 stupid  and  insensible.  Fascal. 
 
 SPIRIT— Uncompounded. 
 
 All  material  existences  are  combinations. 
 All  vegetables  and  animals  are  compounds 
 of  various  elements  ;  abstract  one  of  their 
 constituent  principles,  and  they  cease  to 
 
816 
 
 SPIEIT  OP  GOD— SPIEITUAL  LIFE. 
 
 be.  Indeed  it  is  probable,  there  is  nothing 
 that  we  know  of,  even  in  tlie  inorganic 
 world  of  matter  that  is  a  simple  substance. 
 Probably  the  next  race  of  chemical  analy- 
 sists  will  find  that  oxygen,  nitrogen,  and 
 such  substances,  which  are  now  considered 
 elemental,  are  but  compositions.  But  we 
 think  of  spirit  as  an  uncompounded  princi- 
 ple— as  something  that  is  not  made  up  of 
 parts — something  that  you  caimot  divide — 
 that  you  can  take  nothing  from,  and  put 
 nothing  to.  Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 SPIRIT  OF  GOD— First-Frnits  of  the. 
 
 There  are  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit  in 
 a  believer,  as  there  are  the  first-fruits  of 
 the  agriculturalist  from  the  ground  of  his 
 possession.  The  first  conviction  of  sin ; 
 the  first  repentance  for  sin ;  the  first  prayer 
 for  mercy ;  the  first  exercise  of  saving  faith 
 in  Jesus ;  the  first  comfort  through  be- 
 lieving; the  first  sense  of  the  Divine 
 favour ;  the  first  hope  of  heaven ;  the  first 
 victory  over  temptation  and  sin;  the  first 
 realisation  of  the  fulfilment  of  a  Divine 
 promise ;  the  first  self-denial ;  the  first 
 cross  taken  up  and  borne  for  Christ's  sake ; 
 the  first  word  for  the  Saviour;  the  first 
 sermon  preached  for  the  truth;  the  fir^^t 
 tract  or  book  publislied  for  instruction  in 
 righteousness.  How  valuable  are  these 
 first-fruits !  John  Bate. 
 
 SPIRIT  OF  GOD— as  Wind. 
 
 1.  The  wind  is  of  a  subtle  and  invisible 
 nature,  passeth  the  power  of  reason  to 
 search  it  out.  The  Spirit  is  invisible,  and 
 works  invisibly,  and  cannot  be  known  by 
 the  natural  man  (1  Cor.  ii,  14). 
 
 2.  The  motion  of  the  wind  is  very  quick  ; 
 the  Spirit  is  very  quick,  and  swift  in  His 
 motion. 
 
 3.  The  motion  of  the  wind  is  various, 
 blows  in  various  degrees,  from  various 
 sources,  at  various  times,  and  has  various 
 eff"ects.  So  also  does  the  Spirit  in  His 
 influences,  operations,  and  eft'ects. 
 
 4.  The  wind  works  powerfully,  and 
 irresistibly.  It  turns  up  the  cedars  of 
 Lebanon  by  the  roots ;  rends  mountains, 
 and  breaks  the  rocks,  &c.  So  the  Spirit 
 breaks  hard  hearts ;  roots  up  the  trees  of 
 unrighteousness  ;  overturns  the  mountains 
 of  pride ;  bends  the  mighty  will ,  conquers 
 the  lusts  of  the  fiesh,  &c. 
 
 5.  The  wind  dissolves  thick  clouds,  and 
 tends  to  purify  the  air.  .So  the  Spirit  dis- 
 pei-ses  the  clouds  of  doubt,  fear,  unbelief, 
 and  worldliness ;  and  thus  purifies  the 
 heart  and  life  from  their  corruptions. 
 
 6.  The  wind  is  a  most  searching  and 
 penetrating  nature  :  so  is  the  Spirit ;  He 
 searches  the  heart  in  all  its  desires,  thoughts, 
 motives,  aflections,  &,c. 
 
 7.  The  wind  is  of  great  service  to  the 
 world,  and  we  could  not  live  witlwut  it. 
 
 Equally  serviceable  and  essential  is  the 
 Spirit  for  the  spiritual  world,  and  there 
 can  be  no  spiritual  life,  action,  progress, 
 and  glory,  without  Him.  John  Bate. 
 
 SPIRITS — Curiosity  concerniug. 
 
 I  have  been  reading  some  of  Milton's 
 amazing  descriptions  of  spirits,  of  their 
 manner  of  life,  their  powers,  their  bound- 
 less liberty,  and  the  scenes  which  they  in- 
 habit or  traverse  ;  and  my  wonted  enthu- 
 siasm kindled  high.  I  almost  wish  for  death 
 and  wondered  with  great  admiration  what 
 that  life,  and  what  those  strange  regions 
 really  are,  into  which  death  will  turn  the 
 spirit  free  !  I  cannot  wonder,  and  I  can 
 easily  pardon,  that  this  intense  and  sublime 
 curiosity  has  sometimes  demolished  the 
 corporeal  prison,  by  flinging  it  from  a 
 precipice,  or  into  the  sea.  Milton's  de- 
 scription of  Uriel  and  the  Sun  revived  the 
 idea  which  I  have  before  indulged  as  an 
 imagination  of  sublime  luxury,  of  commit- 
 ting myself  to  the  liquid  element  (sup- 
 posing some  part  of  the  sun  a  liquid  fire), 
 of  rising  on  its  swells,  flashing  amidst  its 
 surges,  darting  upwards  a  thousand  leagues 
 on  the  spiry  point  of  a  flame,  and  then 
 falling  again  fearless  into  the  fervent  ocean. 
 O !  what  is  it  to  be  dead ;  what  is  it  to 
 shoot  into  the  expansion,  and  kindle  into 
 the  ardours  of  eternity;  what  is  it  to 
 associate  with  resplendent  angels ! 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  DARKNESS. 
 
 The  tree  that  waves  its  branches  so 
 freely  in  the  great  expanse,  and  spreads 
 out  its  leafy  surface  towards  heaven,  so 
 eager  for  light  and  for  heat,  struck  its 
 root  in  secret,  underground,  in  great  dark- 
 ness and  bondage.  Take  heed  that  you  do 
 not  undervalue  your  time  of  spiritual  dark- 
 ness and  conflict.  The  joy  of  eternity  often 
 strikes  its  root  in  very  bitterness  of  spirit. 
 Meekly  fulfil  all  your  groaning,  and 
 patiently  abide  your  time  in  darkness, 
 "  looking  unto  Jesus."  Do  you  know  that 
 you  would  not  so  painfully  feel  your  dark- 
 ness, if  the  Holy  Sunlight  did  not  underlie 
 it  ?  The  diviner  the  sunlight  at  the 
 centre,  the  painfuUer  is  the  encompassing 
 night.  J.  Pulsford. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  LIFE— Growth  in. 
 
 Why  do  you  plant  anything,  but  in 
 order  that  it  may  grow  and  become  larger, 
 stronger,  bear  flower  and  fruit  ?  Be  sure 
 God  has  planted  us  in  His  garden,  Christ's 
 Church,  for  no  other  reason.  Consider 
 again.  What  is  life  but  a  continual  grow- 
 ing, or  a  continual  decaying  ?  If  a  tree 
 does  not  get  larger  and  stronger  year  by 
 year,  is  not  that  a  sure  sign  that  it  is  un- 
 healthy, and  that  decay  has  begun  in  it, 
 that  it  is  unsound  at  heart  ?  And  what 
 happens    then  ?      It    begins    to    become 
 
SPIRITUAL  LIFE— SPIRITUAL  MIND. 
 
 817 
 
 weaker  and  smaller,  and  cankered  and 
 choked  with  surf  and  moss  till  it  dies.  If 
 a  tree  is  not  growing,  it  is  sure  in  the  long 
 run  to  be  dying  ;  and  so  are  our  souls.  If 
 they  are  not  growing,  they  are  dying ;  if 
 they  are  not  getting  better,  they  are  get- 
 ting worse.  This  is  why  the  Bible  com- 
 pares our  souls  to  trees — not  out  of  a  mere 
 pretty  fancy  of  poetry,  but  for  a  great, 
 awful,  deep,  world-wide  lesson,  that  every 
 tree  in  the  fields  may  be  a  pattern,  a  warn- 
 ing, to  us  thoughtless  men,  that  as  that 
 tree  is  meant  to  grow,  so  our  souls  are 
 meant  to  grow.  As  that  tree  dies  unless 
 it  grows,  so  our  souls  must  die  unless  they 
 grow.     Consider  that !  C.  Kingsley. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  LIFE— Impulses  not. 
 
 There  is  no  organic  life  without  growth 
 in  nature ;  and  there  is  no  spiritual  life 
 without  growth  in  grace.  I  say,  no  spiritual 
 life, — no  continuous  state  of  life.  Spiritual 
 impulses  there  may  be  many.  Impulses, 
 however,  are  not  life,  though  they  may 
 originate  or  restore  life.  Here  we  resort 
 to  natui'e  for  an  illustration.  There  is  an 
 agency  connected  with  life  called  gal- 
 vanism. You  may  galvanise  a  paralysed 
 limb,  and  by  galvanism  may  restore  the 
 circulation,  and  so  restore  life  to  it.  But 
 the  galvanism  is  not  the  life  ;  it  only  rouses 
 the  dormant  powers  of  life.  Galvanism  is 
 a  certain  development  of  electricity,  the 
 same  mysterious  agent  which  in  another 
 form,  darts  to  and  fro  among  the  clouds 
 of  heaven.  The  life  of  the  limb,  on  the 
 other  hand,  consists  in  its  answering  the 
 purposes  for  which  it  was  made,  in  its 
 habitual  subservience  to  the  will,  in  the 
 power  of  contracting  and  relaxing  its  mus- 
 cles, when  the  will  gives  it  notice  to  do  so. 
 Now,  the  professing  Christian,  who  is  not 
 siDiritually  alive,  is  a  paralysed  member  of 
 the  body  of  Christ.  Impulses  from  a 
 heavenly  agent,  the  Holy  Ghost,  are  ever 
 and  anon  sent  through  the  medium  of 
 God's  ordinances  in  the  body  of  Christ, 
 and  impart  a  convulsive  fitful  motion  even 
 to  those  limbs  which  are  paralysed.  It 
 does  not,  however,  follow  that  the  paralysed 
 limbs  are  restored.  In  some  cases  they 
 may  be ;  in  some  they  may  not.  At  all 
 events,  the  fitful  movement  of  the  limb  is 
 one  thing,  its  permanent  vitality  another. 
 Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  LIFE— Liberty  of  the. 
 
 The  heavenly  life  imparted  is  liberty, 
 and  truth,  and  peace ;  it  is  the  removal  of 
 bondage,  and  darkness,  and  pain.  So  far 
 from  being  a  mechanical  constraint,  as 
 some  would  represent,  it  is  the  removal  of 
 the  iron  chain  with  which  guilt  had  bound 
 the  sinner.  It  acts  like  an  army  of  liber- 
 ation to  a  down-trodden  country ;  like  the 
 warm  breath  of  spring  to  the  frost-fettered 
 
 tree.  For  the  entrance  of  true  life,  or 
 living  truth.  Into  man's  soul,  must  be 
 liberty,  not  bondage.  "  The  truth  shall 
 make  you  free."  Dr.  Bonar. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  LIFE— Power  of  God  in. 
 
 It  is  not  only  the  fii'st  act  of  conversion 
 which  displays  Divine  power,  but  the  whole 
 of  the  Christian's  career,  until  he  comes  to 
 perfection,  is  a  clear  display  of  the  same. 
 The  spiritual  life  may  be  likened  unto  the 
 hurning  bush  which  Moses  saw  in  Horeb ; 
 it  burnt,  but  it  was  not  consumed.  Such 
 is  the  Christian — like  a  bush,  he  is  most 
 fitting  fuel  for  the  flame;  yet  the  flame 
 does  not  hurt  him.  It  kindles  about  him, 
 but  he  is  not  destroyed.  Or  the  Christian 
 life  may  be  likened  to  loalJcing  upon  tvater. 
 As  Peter  trod  the  waves  and  did  not  sink 
 so  long  as  his  faith  looked  to  Jesus,  so  the 
 believer  every  day,  in  every  footstep  that 
 he  takes  is  a  living  miracle.  Faith,  too,  in 
 its  life,  may  be  compared  to  flying — "They 
 shall  mount  up  on  wings  as  eagles."  "  I 
 bear  you  as  upon  eagles'  wings."  The 
 believer  every  day  takes  venturesome 
 flights  into  the  atmosphere  of  heaven, 
 rises  above  the  world,  leaves  its  cares  and 
 its  wants  beneath  his  feet,  and  that,  tooi 
 with  no  other  wings  but  those  of  faith  and 
 love.  Herein  is  a  continued  and  splendid 
 miracle  of  the  Divine  power. 
 
 C.  E.  Sjpurgeon. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  LIFE— Signs  of. 
 
 Growth  in  the  animal  and  vegetable 
 world  is  the  sure  sign,  and  only  sure  sign, 
 of  life.  If  a  branch  does  not  sprout  and 
 put  forth  leaf  and  blossom  in  the  spring, 
 we  know  that  it  is  a  dead  branch,  the  sap 
 which  is  the  life  of  the  tree  does  not  reach 
 it,  is  not  circulating  through  it.  If  an 
 infant  lives,  it  grows,  increases  in  stature 
 daily,  while  its  features  fill  out  gradually 
 into  that  definite  shape  which  they  are  to 
 wear  through  life.  Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  MIND— Life  and  Peace  of  the. 
 When  at  any  time  they  find  their  souls 
 under  the  blessed  empire  and  dominion  of 
 a  spiritual  mind  ;  when  spirituality  wholly 
 rules  and  denominates  them  ;  are  not  their 
 souls  the  very  region  of  life  and  peace  ? 
 both  these  in  conjunction,  life  and  peace  ? 
 not  raging  life,  not  stupid  peace,  but  a 
 placid  peaceful  life,  a  vital,  vigorous  rest 
 and  peace  :  it  is  not  the  life  of  a  fury,  nor 
 peace  of  a  stone  ;  life  that  hath  peace  in  it, 
 and  peace  that  hath  life  in  it.  Now  can 
 the  soul  say,  "  I  feel  myself  well ;  all  is 
 now  well  with  me."  Nothing  afflicts  the 
 spiritual  mind,  so  far  and  while  it  is  such  : 
 it  is  wrapt  up  and  clothed  in  its  own  in- 
 nocency  and  purity,  and  hereby  become 
 invulnerable,  not  liable  to  hurtful  im- 
 pressions. John  Howe. 
 52 
 
818 
 
 SPTRITUAL-miNDED— SPONTANEOUS  MOTION. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  -  MINEED  AND  CAKNAL- 
 MINDED. 
 Yet  more  thoroughly,  though  less  visihly, 
 is  there  a  gult'betweeu  the  spiritual-minded 
 and  carnal-minded,  in  this  world — between 
 those  who  find  their  essential  pleasures  in 
 following  after  the  senses,  though  it  may 
 be  in  ways  that  are  allowed,  and  those 
 who  follow  after  invisible,  transcendent, 
 and  heavenly  joys.  I  do  not  mean  that 
 they  must  respectively  hate  each  other  ;  I 
 mean  that  they  are  so  unlike,  that  they  for 
 ever  grow  in  different  directions.  As  the 
 root  hides  underground,  and  for  evermore 
 grows  away  from  the  leaf  which  lifts  itself 
 up  toward  the  sun  and  for  evermore  seeks 
 unity  of  itself  with  the  sunlight — so  those 
 who  are  working  toward  the  earth  and 
 toward  carnal  things  sink  downward,  ever 
 receding  from  the  others  in  their  tastes 
 and  aspirations,  until  in  the  future  world 
 there  will  be  a:  gulf  wide  as  immensity  itself 
 between  them.  Anon. 
 
 SPIRITUAL  "WISDOM— Teaching. 
 
 He  who  teaches  men  the  principles  and 
 precepts  of  spiritual  wisdom,  before  their 
 minds  are  called  off  from  foreign  objects, 
 and  turned  inward  upon  themselves,  might 
 as  well  write  his  instructions,  as  the  Sybil 
 wrote  her  prophecies,  on  the  loose  leaves 
 of  trees,  and  commit  them  to  the  mercy  of 
 the  inconstant  winds.  Leighton. 
 
 SPIRITUALITY  OF  MIND. 
 
 A  beautiful  flower,  the  wood  sorrel — 
 grows  among  the  trees  in  the  sylvan 
 scenes  of  England.  It  has  shining  green 
 leaves,  and  transparent  bells  with  white 
 veins.  When  it  is  gathered  roughly,  or 
 the  evening  dew  falls,  or  the  clouds  begin 
 to  rain,  its  foliage  closes  and  droops ;  but 
 when  the  air  is  bright  and  calm,  it  un- 
 folds all  its  loveliness.  Like  this  sensitive 
 flower,  spirituality  of  mind,  when  touched 
 by  the  rough  hand  of  sin,  or  the  cold  dew 
 of  worldliness,  or  the  noisy  rain  of  strife, 
 hides  itself  in  the  quietude  of  devout  me- 
 ditation ;  but  when  it  feels  the  influence 
 of  sunny  and  serene  piety,  it  expands  in 
 the  beauty  of  holiness — the  moral  image  of 
 God.  P.  J.  JVright. 
 
 STABILITY— Christian. 
 
 "  Stand  fast  in  the  faith."  There  are 
 some  men  who,  because  they  want  to 
 grow,  are  continually  being  transplanted ; 
 and  they  think  that  because  they  keep 
 moving  from  place  to  place,  they  are 
 gaining ;  but  they  gain  nothing  at  all. 
 Trees  that  grow  fastest  stand  stillest. 
 Running  after  every  new  thing  that 
 presents  itself  does  not  increase  the 
 growth  of  Christian  graces,  or  anything 
 else  that  is  good.     If  a  man  would  grow 
 
 spiritually,  he  must  have  a  stand  point, 
 a  fixed  root-place,  for  his  religious  con- 
 victions. S.  W.  Beecher, 
 
 STABILITY— in  Conflict. 
 
 At  the  critical  moment  in  the  battle  of 
 Waterloo,  when  everything  depended  on 
 the  steadiness  of  the  soldiery,  courier  after 
 courier  kept  dashing  into  the  presence  of 
 the  Duke  of  Wellington,  announcing  that 
 unless  the  troops  at  an  important  point 
 were  immediately  relieved  or  withdrawn 
 they  must  soon  yield  before  the  impetuous 
 onsets  of  the  French.  By  all  of  these  the 
 Duke  sent  back  the  same  spirit-stirring 
 message,  "  Stand  firm  !  " 
 
 "  But  we  shall  perish ! "  remonstrated 
 the  officer. 
 
 "  Stand  firm  !"  again  answered  the  iron- 
 hearted  chieftain. 
 
 "  You'll  find  us  there ! "  rejoined  the 
 other,  as  he  fiercely  galloped  away.  The 
 result  proved  the  truth  of  his  reply,  for 
 every  man  of  that  doomed  brigade  fell 
 bravely  fighting  at  his  post. 
 
 What  an  example  is  this  for  the  Chris- 
 tian contending  under  the  blood-stained 
 banner  of  the  Cross  !  Shall  the  worldling 
 maintain  his  position  at  all  hazards  for 
 mere  earthly  considerations,  and  the  fol- 
 lower of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  dare 
 nothing  for  the  boon  of  eternal  life  ?  God 
 forbid !  His  pathway  should  be  lighted 
 up  by  the  flame  of  Divine  love,  and  in  the 
 strength  of  Christ  he  should  press  man- 
 fully on  from  conquering  unto  conquest. 
 If  he  will  only  continue  to  act  thus,  he 
 will  eventually  achieve  a  glorious  victory 
 over  his  last  foe,  and  be  able  to  shout  the 
 "  harvest  home  "  in  that  upper  and  better 
 kingdom,  where  the  sound  of  weeping  never 
 comes,  and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 
 
 Dr.  Saven, 
 
 STABILITY— Means  of. 
 
 For  as  we  use  to  tie  a  tender  tree  to 
 some  other  tree  that  it  may  not  be  broken 
 by  the  winds,  and  to  cast  anchor  in  a  storm 
 to  fix  the  ship  that  it  may  not  be  driven  by 
 the  tempest ;  so  ought  we  to  join  and  ajjply 
 our  faint  and  weak  hearts  to  the  firm  pillar 
 of  God's  word,  and  fix  the  ship  of  our  souls 
 by  the  anchor  of  hope,  that  it  sink  not. 
 
 John  Arndt. 
 
 SPONTANEOUS  MOTION. 
 
 And  what  shall  we  say  of  spontaneous 
 motion,  wherewith  we  find  also  creatures 
 endowed  that  are  so  weak  and  despicable 
 in  our  eyes,  as  well  as  ourselves ;  that  is, 
 that  so  silly  a  thing  as  a  fly,  a  gnat,  &c., 
 should  have  power  in  it  to  move  itself  or 
 stop  its  own  motion  at  its  own  pleasure  ! 
 How  far  have  all  attempted  imitations  in 
 this  kind  fallen  short  of  this  perfection, 
 and  how  much  more  excellent  a  thing  is 
 
STRENGTH— SUBMISSION  TO  GOD. 
 
 819 
 
 Jie  smallest  and  most  contemptible  insect, 
 than  the  most  admired  machine  we  ever 
 heard  or  read  of !  JoJin  Sowe. 
 
 STRENGTH— Spiritual. 
 
 "  As  a  man  is,  so  is  his  strength  ; "  and 
 as  his  strength  is,  so  is  his  joy  and  pleasure. 
 The  sun  is  said  to  go  forth  "  as  a  strong 
 man,  rejoicing  to  run  his  race."  When  a 
 man  goes  in  the  fulness  of  his  strength 
 upon  any  enterprise,  how  do  his  blood  and 
 spirits  triumph  beforehand  !  no  motion  of 
 hand  or  foot  is  without  a  sensible  delight. 
 The  strength  of  a  man's  spirit  is  unspeak- 
 ably more  than  that  of  the  outward  man  ; 
 its  faculties  and  powers  more  refined  and 
 raised  ;  and  hence  are  rational  or  intellec- 
 tual exercises  and  operations  much  more 
 delightful  than  corporal  ones  can  be. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 SUSJECTION  TO  GOD— Nature  of. 
 
 This  is  the  soul's  real  and  practical 
 aelinowledgment  of  the  Supreme  Majesty, 
 its  homage  to  its  Maker,  its  self-dedication, 
 than  which  nothing  more  suits  the  state  of 
 a  creature,  or  the  spirit  of  a  saint.  It  is 
 that  by  which  the  blessed  soul  becomes, 
 in  its  own  sense,  a  consecrated  thing,  a 
 devoted  thing,  sacred  to  God;  its  very  life 
 and  whole  being  referred  and  made  over 
 to  Him.  John  Hoive. 
 
 SUBJECTION  TO  GOD— Pleasure  of. 
 
 With  what  delightful  relishes,  what 
 sweet  gusts  of  pleasure,  is  this  done  while 
 the  soul  tastes  its  own  act;  approves  it 
 with  a  full  ungainsaying  judgment;  appre- 
 hends the  condignity  and  fitness  of  it ; 
 assents  to  itself  herein,  and  hath  the  ready 
 suft'rage,  the  harmonious  concurrence  of 
 all  its  powers.  Ibid. 
 
 A  soul  cast  into  such  a  mould,  formed 
 into  an  obediential  subject  frame,  what 
 sweet  peace  doth  it  enjoy,  how  pleasant 
 rest !  Everything  rests  most  composedly 
 in  its  proper  place  ;  a  bone  out  of  joint 
 knows  no  ease,  nor  lets  the  body  enjoy 
 any.  Ibid. 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— Ease  of. 
 
 The  late  Ephraim  Peabody,  of  America, 
 about  twenty  years  ago  was  attacked  with 
 bleeding  at  the  lungs,  and  was  obliged  to 
 resign  his  pastoral  duties.  His  only  child 
 was  laid  in  the  grave  ;  his  young  wife  had 
 temporarily  lost  the  use  of  her  eyes ;  his 
 home  was  broken  up,  and  his  prospects 
 were  very  dark.  They  had  sold  their  fur- 
 niture, and  went  to  board  in  a  tavern.  One 
 day  as  he  came  in  from  a  walk,  his  wife 
 said  to  him,  "  I  have  been  thinking  of  our 
 situation  here,  and  have  determined  to  be 
 submissive  and  patient."  "Ah,"  said  he, 
 ,'  that  is  a  good  resolution :  let  us  see  what 
 
 we  have  to  submit  to.  I  will  make  a  list 
 of  our  trials.  First,  we  have  a  home,  we 
 will  submit  to  that.  Secondly,  we  have 
 the  comforts  of  life,  we  will  submit  to  that. 
 Thirdly,  we  have  each  other.  Fourthly, 
 we  have  a  multitude  of  friends.  Fifthly, 
 we  have  a  God  to  take  care  of  us."  "  Ah  !  " 
 said  she,  "  I  pray  you  to  stop,  and  I  will 
 say  no  more  about  submission."  Anon. 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— Effects  of. 
 
 1.  It  will  prevent  rash  conclusions;  such 
 as  Jacob's  in  regard  to  Joseph,  when  he 
 said,  "  All  these  things  are  against  me ;  " 
 such  as  David's  when  he  said,  "  All  men 
 are  liars." 
 
 2.  It  will  prevent  immoderate  sorrow. 
 
 3.  It  will  prevent  sinful  staggerings. 
 Abraham  staggered  not. 
 
 4.  It  will  give  to  us  inward  peace. 
 
 5.  It  will  produce  enduring  patience. 
 
 6.  It  will  excite  praise  and  thanks- 
 giving. Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— Entire. 
 
 By  retaining  any  branch  of  our  own 
 wills  or  desires  nnrenounced,  as  not  re- 
 signed up  into  God's  hand,  we  give  him 
 hold  of  us,  who  will  never  let  hold  go, 
 unless  we  cut  off  the  member  which 
 otfendeth  us.  For,  as  one  very  well  ob- 
 serves, so  the  snare  be  strong  and  hold 
 sure,  a  bird,  though  caught  but  by  one 
 claw,  shall  as  certainly  be  the  fowler's 
 portion,  as  if  she  had  been  taken  by  both 
 wings.  Br.  Jackson. 
 
 To  do,  or  not  to  do ;  to  have. 
 
 Or  not  to  have ;  I  leave  to  Thee  : 
 
 To  be,  or  not  to  be,  I  leave : 
 Thy  only  will  be  done  in  me ! 
 
 All  my  requests  are  lost  in  one, — 
 
 "  Father,  Thy  will  be  done  ! " 
 
 Welcome  alike  the  crown  or  cross ; 
 
 Trouble  I  cannot  ask,  nor  peace ; 
 Nor  toil,  nor  rest ;  nor  gain,  nor  loss  ; 
 
 Nor  joy,  nor  grief;  nor  pain,  nor  ease ; 
 Nor  life,  nor  death  ; — but  ever  groan, 
 "  Father,  Thy  only  will  be  done  !  " 
 
 C.  Wesley^ 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— and  Feeling. 
 
 When  the  brave  man  gives  his  shattered 
 arm  to  the  surgeon's  knife,  will  may  pre- 
 vent even  the  quiver  of  an  eyelid ;  but  no 
 will  and  no  courage  can  reverse  his  sen- 
 sations or  prevent  the  operation  from  in- 
 flicting pain.  When  the  heart  is  raw,  and 
 smarting  from  recent  bereavement,  let 
 there  be  the  deepest  and  most  reverential 
 submission  to  the  Highest  Will,  is  it  pos- 
 sible not  to  wince  ?  Can  any  cant  demand 
 for  submission  extort  the  profession  that 
 pain  is  pleasure  ?  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
820 
 
 SUBKISSION  TO  GOD— SUCCESS. 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— Grounds  of. 
 
 1.  The  sovereignty  of  God.  The  sove- 
 reignty of  God  is  that  of  a  father.  What- 
 ever we  have,  it  is  God's  more  than  ours. 
 He  never  resigns  His  right  to  anything 
 He  entrusts  us  with. 
 
 2.  The  righteousness  and  justice  of  God. 
 He  does  all  things  right. 
 
 3.  The  mercy  and  goodness  of  God.  He 
 does  all  things  well. 
 
 4.  The  all-sufficiency  of  God.  He  is  a 
 Fountain  ever  full :  if  He  takes  one  bless- 
 ing. He  can  give  a  hundred. 
 
 5.  The  unchangeableness  of  God. 
 
 Dr.  Beaumord. 
 
 SUBMISSION  TO  GOD— Nature  of. 
 
 It  does  not  suppose  insensibility  to  the 
 afflictions  under  which  we  are  called  to 
 cultivate  it.  It  does  not  suppose  that  we 
 are  not  to  employ  the  means  which  are 
 within  our  power,  with  a  view  to  the  pre- 
 vention of  evil.  Nor  is  prayer  to  God 
 against  evil  inconsistent  with  submission 
 to  Him  under  it. 
 
 Submission  to  God  implies  that  we  justify 
 Him  in  everything  that  He  does — that  we 
 approve  all  that  God  does — that  we  cleave 
 to  God  in  the  midst  of  all.  Ibid. 
 
 When  that  monster -taming  Hercules 
 overcame  all  in  the  Olympics,  Jupiter  at 
 last,  in  an  unknown  shape,  wrestled  with 
 him  ;  the  victory  was  uncertain,  till  at 
 length  Jupiter  descried  himself,  and  Her- 
 cules yielded.  No  striving  with  supreme 
 powers ;  we  must  submit  ourselves  unto 
 the  mighty  hand  of  God,  acknowledge  our 
 offences,  call  to  Him  for  mercy.  If  He 
 strike,  as  it  is  with  them  that  are  wounded 
 with  the  spear  of  Achilles,  He  alone  must 
 help.  Burton. 
 
 0  Lord  my  God,  do  Thou  Thy  holv  will— 
 
 I  will  lie  still— 
 
 1  will  not  stir,  lest  I  forsake  Thine  arm. 
 
 And  break  the  charm,        [breast, 
 Which  lulls  me,  clinging  to  my  Father's 
 In  perfect  rest. 
 
 Wild  Fancy,  peace  !  thou  must  not  me 
 beguile 
 
 With  thy  false  smile  :  [ways  ; 
 I   know  thy  flatteries   and   thy    cheating 
 
 De  silent.  Praise,  [all 
 
 Blind  guide  with  siren  voice,  and  blinding 
 
 That  hear  thy  call. 
 
 "  0  Father !  not  my  will,  but  Thine  be 
 done—" 
 
 So  spake  the  Son. 
 Be  this  our    charm,   mellowing    Earth's 
 ruder  noise 
 
 Of  griefs  and  joys  : 
 That  we  may  cling  for  ever  to  Thy  breast 
 In  perfect  rest !  Keble. 
 
 SUCCESS— Early. 
 
 Success  at  first  doth  many  times  undo 
 men  at  last ;  many  may  say  that  they  had 
 never  been  unhappy,  if  they  had  not  been 
 happy.  Venning. 
 
 SUCCESS— Having. 
 
 The  surest  way  not  to  fail  is  to  deter- 
 mine to  succeed.  Sheridan. 
 
 SUCCESS— Motive  to. 
 
 It  is  a  truth,  the  importance  of  which 
 can  hardly  be  over  estimated,  that  nearly 
 every  successful  member  of  any  profession 
 whatever,  owes  his  success  largely  to  the 
 fact  that  he  has  pursued  it,  not  from  a 
 slavish  hunger  after  emoluments,  but  from 
 a  genuine  love  for  it,  and  satisfaction  in 
 discharging  its  duties  efficiently  and  well. 
 A  ploughman,  if  he  is  worth  his  wages, 
 likes  to  see  the  furrows  run  evenly  and 
 syuimetrieally.  The  mason  likes  to  see  his 
 work  justified  by  the  plumb-line  and  spirit- 
 level  ;  and  in  the  higher  walks  of  life,  every 
 man  who  deserves,  and  almost  every  man 
 who  earns  distinction,  seeks  and  finds  his 
 reward  far  more  in  his  work  than  in  his 
 pay.  Saturday  Review. 
 
 SUCCESS— Secret  of. 
 
 The  Duke  of  Wellington  used  often  to 
 remark  that  the  secret  of  success  lay  in 
 embracing  every  opportunity  of  being  use- 
 ful ;  and  that  he  never  forgot  the  golden 
 rule  which  he  learned  in  the  Church  cate- 
 chism, "  of  doing  your  duty  in  that  station 
 of  life  to  which  it  shall  please  God  to  call 
 you."  Anon. 
 
 SUCCESS— Way  of. 
 
 The  men  whom  I  have  seen  succeed  best 
 in  life  have  always  been  cheerful  and  hope- 
 ful men,  who  went  about  their  business 
 with  a  smile  on  their  faces,  and  took  the 
 changes  and  chances  of  their  mortal  life 
 like  men  facing  rough  and  smooth  alike  as 
 it  came,  and  so  found  the  truth  of  the  old 
 proverb,  that  "  Good  times,  and  bad  times, 
 and  all  times  pass  over."  Of  all  men,  per- 
 haps, who  have  lived  in  our  days,  the  most 
 truly  successful  was  the  great  duke  of  Wel- 
 lington; and  one  thing,  I  believe,  which 
 helped  him  most  to  become  great,  was 
 that  he  was  so  wonderfully  free  from  vain 
 fretting  and  complaining,  free  from  useless 
 regrets  about  the  past,  from  useless 
 anxieties  for  the  future.  Though  for 
 years  he  had  on  his  shoulders  a  responsi- 
 bility which  might  have  well  broken  down 
 the  spirit  of  any  man,  though  the  lives  of 
 thousands  of  brave  men,  and  the  welfare 
 of  great  kingdoms — ay,  humanly  speaking, 
 the  fate  of  all  Europe — depended  on  his 
 using  his  wisdom  in  the  right  place,  and 
 one  mistake  might  have  broi-^ht  ruin  and 
 
SUFIERIKG— SUN. 
 
 821 
 
 shame  on  him  and  on  tens  of  thousands ; 
 yet  no  man  ever  saw  him  anxious,  confused, 
 terrified.  Though  for  many  years  he  was 
 much  tried  and  hampered,  and  unjustly 
 and  foolishly  kept  from  doing  his  work  as 
 he  knew  it  ought  to  be  done,  yet  when  the 
 time  came  for  work,  his  head  was  always 
 clear,  his  spirit  was  always  ready,  and 
 therefore  he  succeeded  in  the  most  mar- 
 vellous way.  Solomon  says,  "  Better  is  he 
 that  ruleth  his  spirit,  than  he  that  taketh 
 a,  city."  Now,  the  great  duke  had  learnt 
 \n  most  things  to  rule  his  spirit,  and 
 therefore  he  was  able  not  only  to  take 
 cities,  but  to  do  better  still,  to  deliver 
 cities — ay,  and  whole  countries — out  of  the 
 hand  of  armies  fer  stronger,  humanly 
 speaking,  than  his  own.  C.  Kingsley. 
 
 SUFFERING-Benefit  of. 
 
 Suffering  curbs  our  wayward  passions, 
 Childlike  tempers  in  us  fashions. 
 
 And  our  will  to  His  subdues : 
 Thus  His  hand,  so  soft  and  healing, 
 Each  disordered  power  and  feeling. 
 
 By  a  blessed  change  renews. 
 
 Suffering  keeps  the  thoughts  compacted, 
 Thdt  the  soul  be  not  distracted 
 
 By  the  world's  beguiling  art ; 
 'Tis  like  some  angelic  warder 
 Ever  keeping  sacred  order 
 
 In  the  chambers  of  the  heart. 
 
 Suffering  tunes  the  heart's  emotion 
 To  eternity's  devotion. 
 
 And  awakes  a  fond  desire 
 For  the  land  where  psalms  are  ringing 
 And  with  psalms  the  martyrs  singing 
 
 Sweetly  to  the  harper's  quire. 
 
 Hartmann. 
 
 SUFPEEING— Evidence  and  Design  of. 
 
 All  sufferings,  even  those  of  the  pious, 
 are  certainly  an  evidence  of  the  sin  of  the 
 wliole  race.  The  saint  does  not  withdraw 
 himself  from  the  consequences  of  this 
 general  sinfulness,  but  accepts  them  with 
 patience  and  childlike  resignation,  in  that 
 form  in  which  God,  for  the  perfecting  of 
 the  individual  and  of  the  whole  community, 
 sees  it  right  to  lay  them  on  him.  Suf- 
 fering thus  appears  in  the  hand  of  God  an 
 advantage,  a  means  of  moral  perfection; 
 and  he  whose  efforts  are  directed  to  avoid- 
 ing all  suffering  here  below,  gives  himself 
 up  wholly  to  self-seeking,  hardens  his  heart 
 against  the  wretched,  whose  sufferings 
 might  have  awakened  liira  to  sympathy, 
 and  so  deprives  himself  of  the  blessed- 
 ness which  is  implied  in  loving. 
 
 Olshausen. 
 
 SUFFERING— Resignation  in. 
 
 Let  me  wither  and  wear  out  mine  age 
 in  a  discomfortable,  in  an  unwholesome,  in 
 a  penurious  prison,  and  so  pay  my  debts 
 
 with  my  hones,  and  recompense  the  waste- 
 fulness of  my  youth  with  the  beggary  of 
 my  age ;  let  me  wither  in  a  spital,  under 
 sharp,  and  foul,  and  infamous  diseases,  and 
 so  recompense  the  wantonness  of  my  youth 
 with  that  loathsomeness  in  mine  age;  yet, 
 if  God  withdraw  not  His  spiritual  blessings. 
 His  grace,  His  patience, — if  I  can  call  my 
 sutiering  His  doing,  my  passion  His  action, 
 all  this  that  is  temporal  is  but  a  caterpillar 
 got  into  one  corner  of  my  garden,  but  a 
 mildew  fallen  upon  one  acre  of  my  corn; 
 the  body  of  all,  the  substance  of  all,  is  Siife, 
 as  long  as  the  soul  is  safe.  Hr.  Donne. 
 
 SUFFERING  FOR  CHRIST— Honours  of. 
 
 Thuanus  tells,  that  a  Gallic  lord  being 
 led  forth  to  martyrdom  in  company  with 
 some  equally  faithful,  though  plebeian  pro- 
 fessors, saw  that  out  of  regard  to  his  rank, 
 the  officers  put  on  him  no  chains,  while 
 each  of  his  brethi-en  bore  them;  upon 
 which  he  cried,  "  Let  me,  I  pray  you,  be 
 clipped  of  none  of  my  honours ;  I,  too,  for 
 love  of  Jesus,  would  wear  a  chain  !" 
 
 S.  Coley. 
 
 SUFFERING  FOR  CHRIST— Rewarded. 
 
 Agrippa,  grandson  of  Herod  the  Great, 
 once  expressed  a  desire  that  his  friend 
 Caligula  might  soon  come  to  the  throne. 
 Old  Tiberius,  the  reigning  monarch,  felt 
 such  a  wish,  however  flattering  to  Caligula, 
 to  be  so  little  kindly  to  himself,  that  he 
 threw  the  author  of  it  into  a  loathsome 
 dungeon.  But  the  very  day  Caligula 
 reached  Imperial  power,  Agrippa  was  re- 
 leased. The  new  emperor  gave  him  purjjle 
 for  his  rags,  tetrarchies  for  his  narrow  cell, 
 and,  carefully  weighing  the  gyves  that 
 fettered  him,  ti.  r  every  link  of  iron  be- 
 stowed on  him  one  of  gold.  Think  you 
 that  day  Agrippa  wished  his  hand-cuffs 
 and  his  leg-locks  had  been  lighter  ? 
 
 Will  Jesus  forget  the  well-wishers  of 
 His  kingdom,  who,  for  His  sake,  have  borne 
 the  burden  and  wore  the  chain  ?  His 
 scales  will  be  forthcoming,  and  assuredly 
 those  faithful  in  great  tribulation  shall  be 
 beatified  with  greater  glory.  Ibid. 
 
 SUFFERING  WITH  CHRIST. 
 
 Phocian,  an  Athenian  captain,  being  con- 
 demned to  death,  and  seeing  one  Euippus 
 condemned  to  the  same  death,  but  very 
 fearful,  he  comforts  him  with  these  words : 
 "  Is  it  not  enough  to  thee  that  thou  art  to 
 die  with  Phocion  ?"  Should  it  not  comfort 
 us  in  suffering,  that  we  die  with  Christ  ? 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 SUN— Creation  of  the. 
 
 We  may  with  much  probability  suppose 
 that  the  sun,  that  immense  globe,  distant 
 from  us  95,000,000  of  miles,  around  which 
 our  earth  is  ever  turning,  had  not  been 
 
SUNDAY-SUNDAY-SCHOOLS. 
 
 created  on  the  fourth  day.  It  had  most 
 likely  sprung  into  being  at  the  time,  "  in 
 the  beginning,"  when  God  created  the 
 heavens  and  the  earth.  But  it  was  on  the 
 fourth  day  that  it  was  lighted  up  for  us, 
 and  became  the  "  light  of  this  world"  by 
 day;  and  by  night  our  attendant  star,  the 
 moon,  which  is  but  the  mirror  and  reflector 
 of  the  sun,  began  to  shine  upon  our  earth 
 with  her  borrowed  light. 
 
 Kemark  particularly  that  it  is  not  said 
 in  Scripture  that  God  created  the  sun  on 
 the  fourth  day.  No  ;  we  are  only  told  that 
 God  said,  "  Let  there  be  lights,"  and  "  God 
 made  lights."  Is  it  not  just  as  I  might 
 say  of  the  lamp  which  is  now  hanging 
 from  the  ceiling  of  this  room  at  present 
 quite  dark,  "  Let  it  be  lighted ;"  and  the 
 instant  the  gas  already  within  it  is  lighted 
 it  becomes  a  light  ?  You  would  not  say 
 that  I  first  placed  the  lustre  there  at  the 
 moment  when  I  desired  that  it  should  be 
 lighted;  for  the  lustre  may  have  been 
 there  years  before,  but  I  made  it  a  light  to 
 the  room  at  the  moment  I  caused  it  to 
 be  lighted  up. 
 
 The  sun  and  moon  had  most  probably 
 been  in  existence  like  lamps  or  lustres  still 
 unlighted,  we  know  not  how  long  before ; 
 but  when  it  pleased  God  to  command  them 
 to  become  lights,  they  were  lighted,  and 
 then  these  two  great  globes  became  our 
 lights,  to  give  light  to  us  by  day  and  by 
 night,  the  one  by  its  own  light,  and  the 
 other  by  reflected  light  borrowed  from  the 
 greater  luminary.  Frof.  L.  Gaussen. 
 
 SUNDAY— Blessings  of. 
 
 The  Sunday's  of  man's  life, 
 Threaded  together  on  Time's  string, 
 Make  bracelets  to  adorn  the  wife 
 Of  the  Eternal  glorious  King. 
 On  Sunday  heaven's  gates  stand  ope ; 
 Blessings  are  plentiful  and  rife. 
 More  plentiful  than  hope. 
 
 George  Serlert. 
 
 0  what  a  blessing  is  Sunday,  interposed 
 between  the  waves  of  worldly  business 
 like  the  Divine  path  of  the  Israelites 
 through  Jordan.  There  is  nothing  in  which 
 I  would  advise  you  to  be  more  strictly  con- 
 scientious than  in  keeping  the  Sabbath- 
 day  holy.  I  can  truly  declare  that  to  me 
 the  Sabbath  has  been  invaluable. 
 
 Wilherforce. 
 
 Heaven  once  a  week ; 
 The  next  world's  gladness  prepossessed  in 
 this; 
 
 A  day  to  seek. 
 Eternity  in  time ;  the  steps  by  which 
 We  climb  above  all  ages ;  lamps  that  light 
 Man  through  his  heap  of  dark  days;  and 
 the  rich 
 
 And  full  redemption  of  the  whole  week's 
 
 flight ; 
 Transplanted    paradise;     God's    walking 
 
 hour; 
 
 The  cool  of  the  day ; 
 The  creatures'  jubilee ;  God's  parley  with 
 
 dust; 
 Heaven  here.  Henry  Vauglian. 
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOLS— Claims  of. 
 
 The  reason  why  Sunday-schools  have 
 such  a  claim  upon  our  patronage  and  sup- 
 port is,  that  the  kind  of  knowledge  which 
 they  communicate  as  staple  knowledge  is 
 the  highest  sort  of  knowledge — the  know- 
 ledge of  God  and  of  Christ  and  of  things 
 Divine,  to  which  we  have  just  now  been 
 referring.  The  laws  of  matter,  the  dis- 
 coveries of  Newton,  the  principles  of 
 Aristotle,  the  teachings  of  Seneca,  these 
 are  left  for  other  schools,  if  they  will  teach 
 them ;  the  Sunday-school  has  to  do  with 
 the  Proverbs  of  Solomon — with  the  stories 
 of  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John — with 
 the  principles  of  Paul  and  Peter  and 
 James.  The  warp  and  the  woof  of  the 
 Sabbath-school  teaching  is  Divine  truth, 
 evangelical  truth.  Give  that  knowledge ; 
 give  it,  and  do  not  spare ;  throw  it  into 
 the  soil  of  the  youthful  mind.  Do  not 
 doubt  whether  there  shall  come  a  return ; 
 do  not  let  any  one  say  that  the  principles 
 of  Christian  truth  are  too  exalted  for  the 
 infant  mind;  no,  the  most  important  and 
 momentous  of  these  principles  are  suited 
 to  the  infant  mind  itself.  Just  as  the 
 young  flower  opens  its  petals  in  the  raid- 
 day  sun,  drinks  in  the  solar  ray,  and  is 
 kissed  into  loveliness,  grace  and  beauty, 
 so  the  young  mind  opens  to  Divine  truth. 
 Have  you  never  read  of  young  Josiah  ? 
 Have  you  never  read  of  Hannah  and  Sarah 
 and  Mary  ?  Have  you  never  read  of  per- 
 sons being  sanctified  from  the  womb  ?  Let 
 us  therefore  give  our  sanction  to  this  kind 
 of  teaching.  I  do  not  see  a  probability 
 that  it  will  ever  be  superseded.  Indeed, 
 the  work  of  teaching  must  always  go  on , 
 it  must  go  on,  from  generation  to  genera- 
 tion— for  the  child  of  the  most  godly 
 parent,  the  child  of  the  most  illuminated 
 philosopher,  the  child  of  the  most  gifted 
 and  sanctified  minister,  the  child  of  the 
 seraphic  believer,  is  born  in  ignorance  and 
 in  sin,  as  much  as  the  child  of  the  most 
 ignorant  peasant,  of  the  rudest  mechanic, 
 of  the  hardiest  river  or  canal-going  man. 
 There  is  no  difference,  and  there  never  will 
 be,  even  in  the  Millennium  ;  it  will  then  be 
 the  same;  children  will  be  born  in  sin. 
 The  only  difference  between  then  and  now 
 is  this;  that  now  conversions  are  rare — ■ 
 then  they  will  be  common ;  now  they  hap- 
 pen somewhat  late — then  they  will  happen 
 early  in  life ;  but  even  in  the  Millennium 
 the  child  will  be  born  in  depravity  and 
 
SUNDAY-SCHOOLS— SUPERNATURAL. 
 
 823 
 
 ignorance,  and  the  work  of  teaching  must 
 go  on.  Dr.  Beaumont. 
 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOLS— Origin  of. 
 
 The  utility  of  an  estabhshment  of  this 
 sort  was  first  suggested  by  a  group  of 
 little  miserable  wretches,  whom  I  ob- 
 served one  day  in  the  street,  where  many 
 people  employed  in  the  pin  manufactory 
 reside. 
 
 I  was  expressing  my  concern  to  one, 
 at  their  forlorn  and  neglected  state,  and 
 was  told,  that  if  I  were  to  pass  through 
 that  street  upon  Sundays,  it  would  shock 
 uie,  indeed,  to  see  the  crowds  of  children 
 who  were  spending  that  sacred  day  in 
 noise  and  riot,  to  the  extreme  annoyance 
 of  all  decent  people. 
 
 I  immediately  determined  to  make  some 
 effort  to  remedy  the  evil.  Having  found 
 four  persons  who  had  been  accustomed  to 
 instruct  children  in  reading,  I  engaged  to 
 pay  the  sum  required  for  receiving  and 
 instructing  such  children  as  I  should  send 
 to  them  every  Sunday.  The  children 
 were  to  come  soon  after  ten  in  the  morn- 
 ing, and  stay  till  twelve;  they  were  then 
 to  go  home  and  return  at  one ;  and  after 
 reading  a  lesson  they  were  to  be  conducted 
 to  church.  After  church  they  were  to  he 
 employed  in  reading  the  catechism  till  after 
 five  and  then  to  be  dismissed,  with  an  in- 
 junction to  go  home  without  making  a 
 noise,  and  by  no  means  to  play  in  the  street. 
 This  was  the  general  outline  of  the  regula- 
 tions. Ealkes. 
 
 SUPERFLUITIES— Use  of. 
 
 Our  superfluities  should  give  way  to  our 
 brother's  conveniences;  and  our  conve- 
 niences to  our  brother's  necessities,  yea, 
 even  our  necessities  should  give  way  to 
 their  extremity  for  the  supplying  of  them. 
 Venning. 
 
 SUPERNATURAL— Definition  of  the. 
 
 That  is  supernatural,  whatever  it  be,. 
 that  is  either  not  in  the  chain  of  natural 
 cause  and  effect,  or  which  acts  on  the 
 chain  of  cause  and  effect,  in  nature,  from 
 without  the  chain.  Thus,  if  any  event 
 transpires  in  the  bosom,  or  upon  the  plat- 
 form of  what  is  called  nature,  which  is  not 
 from  nature  itself,  or  is  varied  from  the 
 process  nature  would  execute  by  her  own 
 laws,  that  is  supernatural,  by  whatever 
 power  it  is  wrought.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 SUPERNATURAL— Explained. 
 
 It  is  not  said,  be  it  observed,  as  is  some- 
 times done,  that  the  supernatural  implies 
 a  suspension  of  the  laws  of  nature,  a  caus- 
 ing them,  for  the  time,  not  to  be — that, 
 perhaps,  is  never  done ;  it  is  only  said  that 
 we,  as  powers,  not  in  the  line  of  cause  and 
 effect,   can   set   the   causes   in   nature   at 
 
 work  in  new  combinations  otherwise  never 
 occurring,  and  produce,  by  our  own  action 
 upon  nature,  results  which  she,  as  nature, 
 could  never  produce  by  her  own  internal 
 acting. 
 
 Illustrations  are  at  hand  without  num- 
 ber. Thus,  nature,  for  example,  never 
 made  a  pistol,  or  gunpowder,  or  pulled  a 
 trigger ;  all  which  being  done,  or  procured 
 to  be  done,  by  the  criminal,  in  his  act  of 
 murder,  he  is  hung  for  what  is  rightly 
 called  his  unnatural  deed.  So  of  things 
 not  criminal ;  nature  never  built  a  house, 
 or  modelled  a  ship,  or  fitted  a  coat,  or 
 invented  a  steam-engine,  or  wrote  a  book, 
 or  framed  a  constitution.  These  are  all 
 events  that  spring  out  of  human  liberty, 
 acting  in  and  upon  the  realm  of  cause  and 
 efl'ect,  to  produce  results  and  combinations, 
 which  mere  cause  and  effect  could  not; 
 and,  at  some  point  of  the  process  in  each, 
 we  shall  be  found  coming  down  upon 
 nature,  by  an  act  of  sovereignty  just  as 
 peremptory  and  mysterious  as  that  which 
 is  discovered  in  a  miracle,  only  that  a 
 miracle  is  a  similar  coming  down  upon  it 
 from  another  and  higher  Being,  and  not 
 from  ourselves.  Thus,  for  example,  in  the 
 firing  of  the  pistol,  we  find  materials 
 brought  together  and  compounded  for 
 making  an  explosive  gas,  an  arrangement 
 prepared  to  strike  a  fire  into  the  substance 
 compounded,  an  arm  pulled  back  to  strike 
 the  fire,  muscles  contracted  to  pull  the 
 arm,  a  nervous  telegraph  running  down 
 from  the  brain,  by  which  some  order  has 
 been  sent  to  contract  the  muscles ;  and 
 then,  having  come  to  the  end  of  the  chain 
 of  natural  causes,  the  jury  ask,  who  sent 
 the  mandate  down  upon  the  nervous  tele- 
 graph, ordering  the  said  contraction  ?  And, 
 having  found,  as  their  true  answer,  that 
 the  arraigned  criminal  did  it,  they  offer 
 this  as  their  verdict,  and  on  the  strength 
 of  the  verdict  he  is  hung.  He  had,  in 
 other  words,  a  power  to  set  in  order  a  line 
 of  causes  and  effects,  existing  elementally 
 in  nature,  and  then,  by  a  sentence  of  his 
 will,  to  start  the  line,  doing  his  unnatural 
 deed  of  murder.  Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 SUPERNATURAL— Nature  of  the. 
 
 Nature  is  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect — 
 that  coming  to  pass  which  is  determined 
 by  the  laws  of  cause  and  effect  in  things. 
 The  supernatural  is  that  which  acts  on  the 
 chain  of  cause  and  effect,  from  without  the 
 chain  ;  not  being  caused  in  its  action,  but 
 acting  from  itself,  under  no  conditions  of 
 previous  causality.  The  distinction  of 
 nature  and  the  supernatural  is  the  dis- 
 tinction, in  fact,  between  propagations  of 
 causality  and  original  causality,  between 
 things  and  powers.  In  this  view,  man,  as 
 a  power,  together  with  all  created  spirits, 
 good  and  bad,  is  a  supernatural  being,  co- 
 
824 
 
 SUPEESTITION-  SUPPLIANT. 
 
 ordinate  with  God,  in  so  far  as  he  acts 
 freely  and  morally.  If  he  moves  but  a 
 limb  in  his  freedom,  he  acts  on  the  lines  of 
 cause  and  effect  in  nature  j  and  if,  in 
 moving  that  limb,  he  has  committed  a 
 murder,  we  blame  him  for  it,  and  bring 
 him  to  a  felon's  punishment;  simply  be- 
 cause he  was  not  caused  to  do  the  deed,  by 
 any  efficient  cause  back  of  him,  but  did  it 
 of  himself;  or,  as  the  common  law  has  it, 
 "  by  malice  aforethought."     Dr.  Bushnell. 
 
 SUPERSTITION— Cause  of. 
 
 The  true  cause  and  rise  of  superstition  is 
 indeed  nothing  else  but  a  false  opinion  of 
 the  T>eity,  that  renders  Him  dreadful  and 
 terrible,  as  being  vigorous  and  imperious  ; 
 that  which  represents  Him  as  austere,  and 
 apt  to  be  angry,  but  yet  impotent,  and 
 loasy  to  be  appeased  again  by  some  flattering 
 devotions,  especially  if  performed  with 
 sajiotimonious  shows,  and  a  solemn  sadness 
 of  mind.  John  Smith. 
 
 SUPEESTITION— Definition  of. 
 
 Superstition  is  generally  defined  to  be 
 the  observance  of  unnecessary  and  uncom- 
 manded  rites  and  practices  in  religion ; 
 reverence  of  objects  not  fit  for  worship ; 
 too  gi-eat  nicety,  fears,  or  scrupulousness ; 
 or  extravagant  devotions ;  or  religion  wrong 
 directed  or  conducted.  The  word  may  be 
 applied  to  the  idolatry  of  the  heathens,  the 
 traditions  of  the  Jews,  the  unscriptural 
 rites  of  the  Catholics;  to  the  dependence 
 placed  by  many  on  Baptism,  the  Lord's 
 Supper,  and  other  ceremonies.  It  may  be 
 extended  to  those  who,  without  any  evi- 
 dence, believe  that  prophecies  are  still 
 uttered,  or  miracles  are  performed.  It  is 
 also  applied  to  those  who  believe  in  witch- 
 craft, magic,  omens,  &c.  C.  Buck. 
 
 SUPEESTITION— Description  of. 
 
 Superstition  is  a  word  so  often  used, 
 that  the  evil  which  it  designates  has  passed 
 for  innocent  and  playful  aberrations  of  ig- 
 norance. Where  I  to  attempt  its  descrip- 
 tion, I  would  say  that  superstition  is  the 
 restless  effort  of  a  guilty  but  blind  con- 
 science, to  find  rest,  and  peace,  and  good, 
 by  unauthorised  propitiations  and  cere- 
 monies; and  the  horrid  nature  of  these 
 propitiations,  and  the  multitude  of  these 
 ceremonies,  equally  prove  the  strong  feeling 
 of  distress  in  the  soul,  and  the  inefficiency 
 of  the  means  used  to  remove  it. 
 
 jB.  Watson. 
 
 SUPEESTITION— Import  of. 
 
 It  imports  an  over-timorous  and  dread- 
 ful apprehension  of  the  Deity. 
 
 John  Smith. 
 
 SUPEESTITION— Instances  of. 
 
 Superstitiou  is  an  opinion  of  the  works 
 
 of  God's  providence,  the  reason  whereof 
 can  neither  be  drawn  out  of  the  word  of 
 God,  nor  the  whole  course  of  nature :  for 
 example,  that  it  is  unlucky  for  one  in  the 
 morning  to  put  on  his  shoe  awry ;  or  to 
 put  on  the  left  shoe  on  the  right  foot ;  to 
 sneeze  in  drawing  on  his  shoes;  to  have 
 salt  fall  towards  him ;  to  bleed  some  few 
 ch-ops  of  blood.  Again,  that  it  is  good 
 luck  to  find  old  iron ;  to  have  drink  spilled 
 on  him  ;  to  pare  our  nails  on  some  certain 
 day  of  the  week ;  to  dream  of  some  certain 
 things.  W.  Ferkins. 
 
 SUPPLIANT— Lonely. 
 
 All  night  the  lonely  suppliant  prayed. 
 All  night  his  earnest  crying  made. 
 Till,  standing  by  his  side  at  morn. 
 The  tempter  said,  in  bitter  scorn  : 
 
 "  O  peace !  what  profit  do  you  gain 
 From  empty  words  and  babblings  vain  ? 
 Come,  Lord, — 0  come  !  you  cry  alway. 
 You  pour  your  heart  out  night  and  day, 
 Yet  still  no  murmur  of  reply. 
 No  voice  that  answers,  '  Here  am  I !' " 
 
 Then  sank  that  stricken  heart  in  dust; 
 That  word  had  wither'd  all  its  trust. 
 No  strength  retain'd  it  now  to  pray. 
 While  Faith  and  Hope  had  fled  away; 
 And  ill  that  mourner  now  had  far'd. 
 Thus  by  the  tempter's  art  ensnar'd. 
 But  that  at  length  beside  his  bed 
 His  sorrowing  Angel  stood,  and  said : 
 
 "  Doth  it  repent  thee  of  thy  love. 
 That  never  now  is  heard  above 
 Thy  prayer  ;  that  now  not  any  more 
 It  knocks  at  heaven's  gate  as  before  ?" 
 
 "  I  am  cast  out, — I  find  no  place. 
 No  hearing  at  the  throne  of  grace. 
 Come,  Lord,  O  come — I  cry  alway, 
 I  pour  my  heart  out  night  and  day ; 
 Yet  never  until  now  have  won 
 The  answer, — '  Here  am  I,  my  son  !' " 
 
 O  dull  of  heart !  inclosed  doth  lie 
 
 In  each  "Come, Lord  !" — an  "Here  am  I." 
 
 Thy  love,  thy  longing,  are  not  thine — 
 
 Reflections  of  a  love  Divine  : 
 
 The  very  prayer  to  thee  was  given. 
 
 Itself  a  messenger  from  heaven. 
 
 Whom  God  rejects,  they  are  not  so. 
 
 Strong  bands  are  round  them  in  their  woe ; 
 
 Their  breasts   are    bound   with   bauds   of 
 
 brass. 
 That  sigh  or  crying  cannot  pass. 
 All  treasures  did  the  Lord  impart 
 To  Pharaoh,  save  a  contrite  heart. 
 All  other  gifts  unto  His  foes 
 He  freely  gives,  nor  grudging  knows; 
 But  Love's  sweet  smart,  and  costly  pain 
 A  treasure  for  His  friends  remain. 
 
 Trench. 
 
SUSPICION— SYMPATHY. 
 
 SUSPICION— Al)sence  of. 
 
 A  noble  brother. 
 Whose  nature  is  so  far  from  doing  harms. 
 That  he  suspects  noue.  Shakespeare. 
 
 SUSPICION— EvHs  of. 
 
 If  thou  begin  to  suspect  evil  of  another, 
 the  next  thing  is  to  conclude  it,  and  the 
 next  to  report  it.  This  suspicion  is  a 
 strange  shadow,  that  every  action  of  ano- 
 ther will  cast  upon  our  minds  ;  especially 
 if  we  be  beforehand  a  little  disaffected  to- 
 wards them.  Thus,  very  dreams  increased 
 suspicion  against  Joseph,  in  his  brethren. 
 And,  if  once  a  man  be  out  of  esteem  with 
 us,  let  him  then  do  what  he  will,  be  it 
 never  so  virtuous  and  commendable,  sus- 
 picion will  still  be  the  interpreter;  and, 
 where  suspicion  is  the  intei'preter  of  men's 
 actions,  slander  and  detraction  will  be  the 
 gloss  and  comment  upon  them.  Indeed 
 suspicion  is  always  too  hasty  in  concluding  : 
 and  many  times,  our  jealousies  and  dis- 
 trusts, upon  very  small  occasion,  prompt 
 us  to  conclude  that  what  we  have  thus  sur- 
 mised is  certainly  come  to  pass ;  and  so  we 
 take  shadows  for  enemies ;  and  report  that 
 confidently  for  truth,  which  yet  we  never 
 saw  acted,  but  only  in  our  own  fancies. 
 
 Bp.  Hopkins. 
 
 SUSPICION— Proneness  to. 
 
 Never  put  much  confidence  in  such  as 
 put  no  confidence  in  others.  A  man  prone 
 to  suspect  evil  is  mostly  looking  in  his 
 neighbour  for  what  he  sees  in  himself.  As 
 to  the  pure  all  things  are  pure,  even  so  to 
 the  impure  all  things  are  impure. 
 
 Sare. 
 
 SWEARING— Reasons  against. 
 
 We  can  conceive  of  no  reason  why  a 
 man  should  swear,  but  of  ten  reasons  why 
 he  should  not : 
 
 1.  It  is  mean.  A  man  of  high  moral 
 standing  would  almost  as  soon  steal  a  sheep 
 as  sweai\ 
 
 2.  It  is  vulgar ;  altogether  too  low  for  a 
 decent  man. 
 
 3.  It  is  cowardly  ;  implying  a  fear  either 
 of  not  being  believed  or  obeyed. 
 
 4.  It  is  ungentlemanly.  A  gentleman, 
 according  to  Webster,  is  a  genteel  man, 
 well-bred,  refined.  Such  a  man  will  no 
 more  swear  than  go  into  the  street  and 
 throw  mud  with  a  clodhopper. 
 
 5.  It  is  indecent.  Offensive  to  delicacy, 
 and  extremely  unfit  for  human  ears. 
 
 6.  It  is  foolish.  Want  of  decency  is  the 
 want  of  sense. 
 
 7.  It  is  abusive — to  the  mind  that  con- 
 ceives the  oath,  to  the  tongue  that  utters 
 it,  and  to  the  person  at  whom  it  is  aimed. 
 
 8.  It  is  venomous;    showing  a   man's 
 
 heart  to  be  a  nest  of  vipers,  and  every  time 
 he  swears  one  of  them  sticks  on  his  head. 
 
 9.  It  is  contemptible;  forfeiting  the 
 respect  of  the  wise  and  good. 
 
 10.  It  is  wicked;  violating  the  Divine 
 law,  and  provoking  the  displeasure  of  Him 
 who  would  not  hold  him  guiltless  who 
 takes  His  name  in  vain.  Anon. 
 
 SWEARING— Unprofitableness  of. 
 
 Take  not  His  name,  who  made  thy  mouth, 
 
 in  vain; 
 It  gets  thee  nothing,  and  hath  no  excuse. 
 Lust  and  wine  plead  a  pleasure,  avarice 
 
 gain: 
 But  the  cheap  swearer,  through  his  open 
 
 sluice. 
 Lets  his  soul  run  for  nought.  Serhert, 
 
 SYMPATHY— an  Attribute  of  Man. 
 
 Though  the  lower  animals  have  feeling, 
 they  have  no  fellow-feeling.  Have  not  I 
 seen  the  horse  enjoy  his  feed  of  corn,  when 
 his  yoke-fellow  lay  a-dying  in  the  neigh- 
 bouring stall,  and  never  turn  an  eye  of 
 pity  on  the  sufferer  ?  They  have  strong 
 passions,  but  no  sympathy.  It  is  said  that 
 the  wounded  deer  sheds  tears ;  but  it  be- 
 longs to  man  only  to  "weep  with  them 
 that  weep,"  aiid  by  sympathy  to  divide 
 another's  sorrows  and  double  another's  joys. 
 When  thunder,  following  the  dazzling  flash, 
 has  burst  among  our  hills,  when  the  horn 
 of  the  Switzer  has  rung  in  his  glorious 
 valleys,  when  the  boatman  has  shouted 
 from  the  bosom  of  a  rock-girt  loch,  wonder- 
 ful were  the  echoes  I  have  heard  them 
 make ;  but  there  is  no  echo  so  fine  or  won- 
 derful as  that  which,  in  the  sympathy  of 
 human  hearts,  repeats  the  cry  of  another's 
 sorrow,  and  makes  me  feel  his  pain  almost 
 as  if  it  were  my  own.  They  say  that  if  a 
 piano  is  struck  in  a  room  where  another 
 stands  unopened  and  untouched,  who  Idys 
 his  ear  to  that  will  hear  a  string  within,  as 
 if  touched  by  the  hand  of  a  shadowy  spirit 
 sound  the  same  note.  But  more  strange 
 how  the  strings  of  one  heart  vibrate  to 
 those  of  another ;  how  woe  wakens  woe ; 
 how  your  grief  infects  me  with  sadness; 
 how  the  shadow  of  a  passing  funeral  and 
 nodding  hearse  casts  a  cloud  on  the  mirth 
 of  a  marriage  party;  how  sympathy  may 
 be  sc  delicate  and  acute  as  to  become  a 
 pain.  There  is,  for  example,  the  well  au- 
 thenticated case  of  a  lady  who  could  not 
 even  hear  the  description  of  a  severe  sur- 
 gical operation,  but  she  felt  all  the  agonies 
 of  the  patient ;  grew  paler  and  paler,  and 
 shrieked,  and  fainted  under  the  horrible 
 imagination.  Not  fancy  ;  for  the  dog  has 
 that,  and,  asleep  on  the  warm  hearth,  he 
 dreams  of  battles  and  of  hunts :  not  rea- 
 son;  for  there  is  an  intelligence  in  his 
 honest  eye,  and  a  skill  in  his  tasks,  that  at 
 least  apes  and  imitates  the  intellect  of  man 
 
826 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 —it  is  not  these,  but  fellow-feeling, 
 which  elevates  our  race  above  the  unim- 
 JDortal  brute,  and  brings  us  near  to  Him 
 whose  sympathy  is  our  chief  comfort  in 
 sorrow,  and  of  whom  we  are  assured — 
 thank  God  in  life's  dark  hour  for  the  as- 
 surance— that  "  iu  all  His  people's  affliction 
 He  is  Himself  afflicted."  Br.  Guthrie. 
 
 SYMPATHY-A  Child's. 
 
 A  child's  eyes ;  those  clear  wells  of  un- 
 defiled  thought :  what  ou  earth  can  be 
 more  beautiful  ?  full  of  hope,  love,  and 
 curiosity,  they  meet  your  own.  In  prayer, 
 how  earnest ;  in  joy,  how  sparkling ;  in 
 sympathy,  how  tender.  The  man  who 
 never  tried  the  companionship  of  a  little 
 child  has  carelessly  passed  by  one  of  the 
 great  pleasures  of  life,  as  one  passes  a  rare 
 flower,  without  plucking  it  or  knowing  its 
 value.  A  child  cannot  understand  you,  you 
 think  ;  speak  to  it  of  the  holy  things  of  your 
 religion,  of  your  grief  for  the  loss  of  a 
 friend,  of  your  love  for  some  one  you  fear 
 will  not  love  in  return  ; — it  will  take,  it  is 
 true,  no  measure  or  soundings  of  your 
 thought — it  will  not  judge  how  much  you 
 should  believe,  whether  your  grief  is  ra- 
 tional in  proportion  to  your  loss,  whether 
 you  are  worthy  or  fit  to  attract  the  love 
 which  you  seek,— but  its  whole  soul  will 
 incline  to  yours,  and  engraft  itself  as  it 
 were,  on  the  feeling  which  is  your  feeling 
 for  the  hour.  Mrs.  Norton. 
 
 SYMPATHY— Excellency  of. 
 There's  nought  in  this  bad  world  like  sym- 
 pathy ; 
 'Tis  so  becoming  to  the  soul  and  face — 
 Sets  to  soft  music  the  harmonious  sigh, 
 And  robes  sweet  friendship  in  a  Brussels 
 lace.  Byron. 
 
 SYMPATHY— Good  of. 
 
 Every  man  rejoices  twice  when  he  has  a 
 partner  of  his  joy ;  a  friend  shares  my  sor- 
 row and  makes  it  but  a  moiety ;  but  he 
 swells  my  joy  and  makes  it  double. 
 
 For  so  two  channels  divide  the  river  and 
 lessen  it  into  rivulets,  and  make  it  fordable 
 and  apt  to  be  drunk  up  by  the  first  revels 
 of  the  Syrian  Star ;  but  two  torches  do  not 
 divide  but  increase  the  flame  ;  and  though 
 iny  tears  are  the  sooner  dried  up,  when 
 they  run  on  my  friend's  cheeks  in  the  fur- 
 rows of  compassion,  yet  when  my  flame 
 hath  killed  his  lamp,  we-  unite  the  glories 
 and  make  them  radiant,  like  the  golden 
 candlesticks  that  burn  before  the  throne  of 
 God,  because  they  shine  by  numbers,  by 
 unions,  and  confederations  of  light  and  joy. 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 SYMPATHY— Nature  of. 
 
 It  is  by  sympathy  we  enter  into  the  con- 
 cerns of  others,  that  we  are  moved  as  they 
 
 are  moved,  and  are  never  suflfered  to  be 
 indifferent  spectators  of  almost  anything 
 which  men  can  do  or  sufl'er.  For  sympa- 
 thy may  be  considered  as  a  sort  of  substi- 
 tution, by  which  we  are  put  into  the  place 
 of  another  man,  and  aflected  in  many  re- 
 spects as  he  is  aflected.  BurJce. 
 
 SYMPATHY— Power  of. 
 
 Happy  is  the  man  who  has  that  in  Ins 
 soul  which  acts  upon  the  dejected  as  April 
 airs  upon  violet  roots.  -Gifts  from  the 
 hand  are  silver  and  gold,  but  the  heart 
 gives  that  which  neither  silver  nor  gold 
 can  buy.  To  be  full  of  goodness,  full  of 
 cheerfulness,  full  of  sympathy,  full  of  help- 
 ful hope,  causes  a  man  to  carry  blessings  of 
 which  he  is  liimself  as  unconscious  as  a 
 lamp  is  of  its  own  shining.  Such  a  one 
 moves  on  human  life  as  stars  move  on  dark 
 seas  to  bewildered  mariners ;  as  the  sun 
 wheels,  bringing  all  the  seasons  with  him 
 from  the  south.  S.  W.  Beecher, 
 
 SYMPATHY— Practical. 
 
 We  must  not  make  too  much  of  sympa- 
 thy, as  mere  feeling We  praise 
 
 feeling  and  praise  its  possessor.  But  feel- 
 ing is  only  a  sickly  exotic  in  itself — a  pas- 
 sive quality,  having  in  it  nothing  moral, 
 no  temptation  and  no  victory.  A  man  is 
 no  more  a  good  man  for  having  feeling, 
 than  he  is  for  having  a  delicate  ear  for 
 music,  or  a  far-seeing  optic  nerve.  The 
 Son  of  Man  had  feeling — He  could  be 
 "touched."  The  tear  would  start  from 
 His  eyes  at  the  sight  of  human  sorrow. 
 But  that  sympathy  was  no  exotic  in  His 
 soul,  beautiful  to  look  at,  too  delicate  for 
 use.  Feeling  with  Him  led  to  this,  "  He 
 went  about  doing  good."  Sympathy  with 
 Him  was  this,  "  Grace  to  help  in  time  of 
 need."  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 It  is  said  of  the  saintly  George  Herbert, 
 the  quaint  old  English  church  poet,  that 
 once  in  a  walk  to  Salisbury,  to  join  a  mu- 
 sical party,  he  saw  a  poor  man  with  a 
 poorer  horse  that  was  fallen  under  his  load. 
 They  were  both  in  distress  and  needed  pre- 
 sent help,  which  Mr.  Herbert  perceiving, 
 put  oft'  his  canonical  coat,  and  helped  the 
 poor  man  to  unload,  and  afterwards  load 
 his  horse.  The  poor  man  blessed  him  for 
 it  and  he  blessed  the  poor  man,  and  was  so 
 like  the  good  Samaritan,  that  he  gave  him 
 money  to  refresh  both  himself  and  his  horse. 
 Thus  he  left  the  poor  man;  and  at  his 
 coming  to  his  musical  friends  at  Salisbury, 
 they  began  to  wonder  that  Mr.  Herbert, 
 who  used  to  be  trim  and  clean,  so  soiled 
 and  discomposed.  But  he  told  them  the 
 occasion;  and  when  one  of  the  company 
 told  him  "  he  had  disparaged  himself  by  so 
 dirty  an  employment,"  his  answer  was, 
 "  that  the  thought  of  what  he  had  done 
 
SYMPATHY— TALENT. 
 
 827 
 
 would  prove  music  to  Mm  at  midnight,  and 
 that  the  omission  of  it  would  have  up- 
 braided and  made  discord  in  his  conscience 
 whensoever  he  shoukl  pass  by  that  place ; 
 for  if  I  be  bound  to  pray  for  all  that  be  in 
 distress,  I  am  sure  that  1  am  bound,  so  far 
 as  it  is  in  my  power,  to  practise  what  I 
 pray  for ;  and  let  me  tell  you,  I  would  not 
 willingly  pass  one  day  of  my  life  without 
 comforting  a  sad  soul,  or  showing  mercy, 
 and  bless  God  for  this  occasion."  Oh,  how 
 many  might  have  anxious  thoughts  which 
 often  infest  their  midnight  hours  changed 
 into  sweet  music,  if  they  would  only  be 
 more  frequently  seen  with  full  hands  and 
 friendly  words  in  the  abodes  of  poverty  and 
 suffering !  These  are  the  places  in  which 
 to  attune  one's  conscience  to  midnight 
 harmonies.  Leisure  Hour. 
 
 SYMPATHY— Promptness  of. 
 
 Sympathy  is  as  the  lightning — it  is  quick 
 as  thought :  it  waits  not  to  make  its  selec- 
 tions— it  is  irrespective  of  considerations, 
 and  of  partialities,  and  of  tastes,  and  of 
 cold  prudence.  If  the  stone  on  which  I 
 have  set  my  foot  proves  to  be  loose,  I  catch 
 hold  of  my  companion's  arm,  and  I  do  so 
 without  ceremony,  or  the  intervention  of  a 
 thought.  Or  if  I  see  that  my  companion 
 is  in  danger  of  a  f;ill,  I  catch  hold  of  his 
 arm  to  save  him,  without  ceremony,  or  the 
 intervention  of  a  thought.  Or  if  on  my 
 path  I  find  some  one — a  stranger — who 
 has  just  fallen  and  has  broken  a  limb,  and 
 is  bleeding,  I  start  forward,  without  cere- 
 mony, or  the  intervention  of  a  thought  (on 
 the  supposition  that  I  am  no  descendant  of 
 the  Priest  or  of  the  Levite). 
 
 Isaac  Taylor. 
 
 T. 
 
 TALE-BEARER— Description  of  the. 
 
 In  the  common  form  of  a  prying  dispo- 
 sition, the  tale-bearer  incurs  the  penalty  of 
 no  one  trusting  him  with  a  secret,  except 
 for  publication.  In  this  case  they  use  him 
 for  a  live  advertisement,  like  the  bill- 
 carriers  in  the  streets,  with  whom  he  only 
 differs  in  the  fact  that  they  carry  their  bills 
 openly  and  "  above  board,"  and  he  secretly, 
 and  like  a  spaniel,  between  his  teeth.  Every 
 social  circle  has  some  such  amateur  gazette, 
 ■who  lives,  like  a  soldier's  dog,  on  the  bits 
 and  scraps  he  picks  up  in  the  barracks,  and 
 whose  office  it  is  to  fetch  and  carry  for 
 every  man  in  the  regiment.  Thus  it  is  no 
 such  honorable  pest,  nor  half  so  innocent, 
 as  its  animal  prototype.  The  poor  dog, 
 at  least,  wags  no  man's  tail  but  his  own  ; 
 but  the  biped  tale-bearer  is  a  mischievous 
 wag  with  other  people's.  Whether  his 
 motive  be  gossiping  or  malevolence,  it  is 
 
 equally  annoying  and  destructive  of  social 
 peace  and  confidence.  "  The  words  of  a 
 talebearer, "  said  the  proverb,  "are  as 
 tvounds,  and  they  go  down  into  the  inner- 
 most parts."  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 TALE-BEARER  AND  TALE-HEARER. 
 
 As  there  is  a  parity  of  guilt  between  the 
 thief  and  the  receiver,  so  there  seems  to 
 be  the  like  between  the  teller  and  the 
 hearer  of  a  malicious  report;  and  that 
 upon  very  great  reason.  For  who  would 
 knock,  where  he  despaired  of  entrance  ?  or 
 what  husbandman  would  cast  his  seed  but 
 into  an-  open  and  a  prepared  furrow  ?  so  it 
 is  most  certain,  that  ill  tongues  would  be 
 idle,  if  ill  ears  were  not  open.  And  there- 
 fore it  was  an  apposite  saying  of  one  of 
 the  ancients  that  both  the  teller  and  hearer 
 of  false  stories  ought  equally  to  be  hanged, 
 but  one  by  the  tongue,  the  other  by  the 
 ears;  and  were  every  one  of  them  so 
 served,  I  suppose  nobody  would  be  so  fond 
 of  those  many  mischiefs  brought  by  such 
 persons  upon  the  peace  of  the  world,  as  to 
 be  concerned  to  cut  them  down,  unless, 
 perhaps,  by  cutting  off  the  forementioned 
 parts  by  which  they  hung.  Dr.  South. 
 
 TALE-BEARING— Mischiefs  of. 
 
 The  carrying  of  a  tale,  and  reporting 
 what  such  an  one  said  or  such  an  one  did, 
 is  the  way  to  sow  such  grudges,  to  kindle 
 such  heart-burnings  between  persons,  as 
 oftentimes  break  forth  and  flame  to  the 
 consumption  of  families,  courts,  and  per- 
 haps at  length  of  cities  and  kingdoms. 
 The  mischief  such  incendiaries  do  is  in- 
 credible, as  being  indeed  for  the  most  part 
 inevitable.  And  a  vine  or  a  rose-tree  may 
 as  well  flourish  when  there  is  a  secret  worm 
 lurking  and  gnawing  at  the  root  of  them  ; 
 as  the  peace  of  those  societies  thrive  that 
 have  such  concealed  plagues  wrapt  up  in 
 their  hearts  and  bowels.  Dr.  South. 
 
 TALENT— Estimating. 
 
 The  question  that  leads  most  directly  to 
 the  true  estimate  of  a  man's  talents  (I 
 asked  myself  this  question  after  having 
 been  several  times  in  Mr.  Hall's  company) 
 is  this  :  How  much  of  neiv  would  prove  to 
 be  gained  to  the  region  of  truth,  by  the 
 assemblage  of  all  that  his  mind  has  con- 
 tributed ?  The  highest  order  of  talent  is 
 certainly  the  power  of  revelation — the 
 power  of  imparting  new  propositions  of 
 important  truth :  inspiration,  therefore, 
 while  it  continued  in  a  given  mind,  might 
 be  called  the  paramount  talent.  The  second 
 order  of  talent  is,  perhaps,  the  power  of 
 development — the  power  of  disclosing  the 
 reasons  and  the  proofs  of  principles,  and 
 the  causes  of  facts.  The  third  order  of 
 talents  is,   perhaps,  the   power   of  appli- 
 
62S 
 
 TALENTS— TALKER. 
 
 cation— the  power    of  adapting  truth  to 
 effect.  J.  Foster. 
 
 TALENTS— Barren. 
 
 A  still  pool  amid  a  most  barren  heath, 
 shining  resplendently  in  the  morning  sun- 
 shine. Analogy:  Talents  accompanied  with 
 moral  barrenness,  i.  e.,  indolence  or  de- 
 pravity. Ibid. 
 
 TALENTS— Improvement  of. 
 
 You  remember  the  parable  of  the  ten 
 talents,  which  shows  us  plainly  enough 
 that  your  talents  are  to  be  put  to  use,  and 
 gain  usury  for  the  lender.  They  must  be 
 kept  well  rubbed  with  work  if  they  are  to 
 shine  brightly  in  their  heavenly  setting.  I 
 do  not  believe  with  those  people  who  seem 
 to  think  that  it  will  be  all  as  one  a  thou- 
 sand years  hence,  whether  we  cultivate 
 our  minds  in  this  life  or  not,  and  that  it 
 matters  nothing  how  small  our  knowledge 
 may  be.  All  is  good  if  turned  to  a  right 
 account,  and  the  acquirements  of  this  life 
 may  enlarge  our  spiritual  capacities  for 
 another !  Christ  Himself  very  emphatically 
 tells  us  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  ac- 
 cording to  what  you  have  done  with  your 
 talents  in  this  world.  We  may  look  upon 
 our  present  life  as  the  ground-floor  of  ex- 
 istence. Hell,  the  dark  place  under  ground. 
 Heaven  is  overhead.  But  remember  that 
 Christ  says,  "  In  my  Father's  house  are 
 many  mansions."  There  are  different  de- 
 grees of  the  life  above ;  different  chambers 
 overhead  in  the  house  of  heaven.  I  dare 
 say  most  of  us  will  be  very  glad  if  we 
 can  at  least  secure  a  place  in  some  humble 
 corner  of  heaven ;  but  still,  if  by  culti- 
 vating those  faculties  which  God  has  given 
 us,  we  can  climb  a  little  higher  in  glory, 
 we  are  bound  so  to  do.  We  know  how  it 
 is  in  this  life.  The  eye,  see  what  it  brings 
 with  it — the  power  of  seeing  according  to 
 the  life  of  the  spirit  which  looks  through 
 it.  Different  persons  look  with  different 
 eyes  upon  a  fine  sunset,  or  starry  midnight. 
 And  I  cannot  help  thinking  that,  to  some 
 extent,  our  power  of  seeing  and  appre- 
 ciating the  hidden  things  of  the  next  life 
 will  depend  on  the  exercise  and  growth  of 
 our  faculties  in  this.  Dr.  Macleod. 
 
 TALKER— Biting. 
 
 A  biter  is  one  who  tells  you  a  thing  you 
 have  no  reason  to  disbelieve  in  itself,  and 
 perhaps  has  given  you,  before  he  bit  you, 
 no  reason  to  disbelieve  it  for  his  saying  it ; 
 and,  if  yon  give  him  credit,  laughs  in  your 
 face,  and  triumphs  that  he  has  deceived 
 you.  In  a  word,  a  biter  is  one  who  thinks 
 you  a  fool  because  you  do  not  think  him  a 
 knave.  This  description  of  him  one  may 
 insist  upon  to  be  a  just  one  ;  for  else  but  a 
 degree  of  knavery  is  it,  to  depend  upon 
 deceit  for  what  you  gain  of  another,  be  it 
 
 in  point  of  wit,  or  interest,  or  anything 
 else  ?  Addison. 
 
 TALKER— Doubtfal. 
 
 Dubius  is  such  a  scrupulous  good  man — 
 Yes — you  may  catch  him  tripping  if  you 
 
 can. 
 He  would  not  with  a  peremptory  tone 
 Assert  the  nose  upon  his  face  his  own  j 
 With  hesitation  admirably  slow, 
 He  humbly  hopes — presumes — it  may  be  so. 
 His  evidence,  if  he  were  called  by  law 
 To  swear  to  some  enormity  he  saw, 
 For  want  of  prominence  and  just  relief. 
 Would  hang  an  honest  man  and  save  a  thief. 
 Through  constant  dread  of  giving  truth 
 
 offence, 
 He  ties  up  all  his  hearers  in  suspense ; 
 Knows  what  he  knows,  as  if  he  knew  it 
 
 not; 
 What  he  remembers,  seems  to  have  forgot  j 
 His  sole  opinion,  whatsoe'er  befall. 
 Centring  at  last  in  having  none  at  all. 
 Yet,  though  iie  tease  and  baulk  your  listen- 
 ing ear, 
 He  makes  one  useful  point  exceeding  clear ; 
 Howe'er  ingenious  on  his  darling  theme 
 A  sceptic  ii '  philosophy  m.ay  seem. 
 Reduced  U ,  ;jractice,  his  beloved  rule 
 Would  only  prove  him  a  consuiumate  fool ; 
 Unless  in  him  alike  both  brain  and  speech, 
 Fate  having   placed   all  truth  above   his 
 
 reach. 
 His  ambiguities  his  total  sum, 
 He  might  as  well  be  blind,  and  deaf,  and 
 dumb.  Cow^er. 
 
 TALKER— Egotistic. 
 
 Almost  every  circle  is  blessed  with  the 
 egotist,  who  exercises  a  kind  of  dictator- 
 ship over  it.  Are  you  in  a  mistake  as  to  a 
 matter  of  fact  ?  He  cannot  suffer  you  to 
 proceed  till  you  are  corrected.  Have  you 
 a  word  on  the  end  of  your  tongue  ?  He 
 at  once  comes  to  your  relief.  Do  you  talk 
 bad  grammar  ?  He  quotes  rules  and  gives 
 examples  like  a  pedagogue.  Does  he  dis- 
 cover that  there  is  a  link  wanting  in  the 
 chain  of  your  argument  ?  He  bids  you 
 stay  till  he  has  supplied  it.  Do  you  drop 
 a  word  to  which  he  has  devoted  much  re- 
 search ?  He  asks  you  whether  you  know 
 its  primitive  signification,  and  straight- 
 way  inflicts  upon  the  circle  a  long  phi- 
 lological disquisition.  When  you  relate 
 an  incident  which  you  suppose  new  and 
 aft'ecting,  your  friend  listens  without  emo» 
 tion.  When  you  have  done,  he  observes 
 that  he  heard  the  same  long  ago,  and  adds 
 a  very  material  circumstance  which  you 
 omitted.  He  is  never  taken  by  surprise, 
 and  it  is  impossible  to  give  him  any  in- 
 formaticm.  And  yet  he  never  takes  the 
 lead  in  conversation,  nor  advances  an  origi- 
 nal thought.  It  is  his  business  to  come 
 after,  and  pick  up  the  words  which  others 
 
TALKER— TALKING. 
 
 let  slip  in  a  running  talk,  or  to  check  their 
 impetuosity,  that  he  may  point  out  to  them 
 their  missteps.  Had  he  lived  in  the  days 
 of  Solomon,  he  would  have  flattered  the 
 royal  sage  with  an  intimation  that  some 
 of  his  proverhs  were  but  plagiarisms ;  or, 
 had  he  been  a  contemparary  of  Solomon's 
 father,  would  have  felt  himself  bound  to 
 give  the  slayer  of  Goliath  some  lessons  on 
 the  use  of  the  shng,  and  hinted  to  the 
 sweet  singer  of  Israel  his  private  opinion, 
 that  the  shepherd  bard  did  not  perfectly 
 understand  the  use  of  the  harp. 
 
 G.  W.  Servey. 
 
 TALKER— Highfalutin. 
 
 Dr.  Oliver  Wendall  Holmes,  in  the 
 course  of  an  interesting  article  on  the 
 photograph  art,  delivers  himself  of  the 
 following  astounding  paragraph : 
 
 "  Then  we  replace  the  slide  in  the  shield, 
 draw  this  out  of  the  camera,  and  carry  it 
 back  into  the  shadowy  realm  where  Cocy- 
 tus  flows  in  black  nitrate  of  silver,  and 
 Acheron  stagnates  in  the  pool  of  hyposul- 
 phite, and  invisible  ghosts,  trooping  down 
 from  the  world  of  day,  cross  a  Styx  of  dis- 
 solved sulphate  of  iron,  and  appear  before 
 the  Rhadamanthus  of  that  lurid  hades"  !  !  ! 
 Jeffers. 
 
 Some  years  ago,  a  physician,  while  in 
 his  patient's  room,  thus  addressed  a  sur- 
 geon :  "  You  must  not  fail  to  phleboto- 
 mise the  old  gentleman  to-morrow  \"  "I 
 will  never  sutt'er  it,"  cried  the  sick  man  in 
 a  fright.  "  Sir,  don't  be  alarmed,"  replied 
 the  surgeon;  "the  doctor  only  orders  you 
 to  be  bled."  "  0,  as  for  the  bleeding,"  re- 
 plied the  venerable  patient,  "  it  matters 
 little ;  but  as  for  the  other,  I  would  sooner 
 die  then  endure  it."  Who  will  dare  blame 
 our  aged  friend  for  such  a  determination  ? 
 What  sane  man  would  submit  to  the  bar- 
 barous and  excruciating  operation  of  being 
 phlebotomised  ?  Ihid. 
 
 Andrew  Jackson  was  once  making  a 
 stump  speech  in  a  country  village  out  west. 
 Just  as  he  was  concluding,  Amos  Kendall, 
 who  sat  behind  him,  whispered,  "Tip  'em 
 a  little  Latin,  General ;  they  won't  be 
 satisfied  without  it."  The  "  Hero  of  New 
 Orleans"  instantly  thought  of  a  few  phrases 
 he  knew,  and,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  wound 
 up  his  speech  by  exclaiming,  ''  JS  plurihtis 
 unum — sine  qua  non ; — ne  plus  ultra! — 
 multum  in  parvo .'"  The  effect  was  tre- 
 mendous, and  the  shouts  could  be  heard 
 for  miles.  Ibid. 
 
 TALKER— Monopolising. 
 
 The  talkative  listen  to  no  one,  for  they 
 are  ever  speaking.  And  the  first  evil  that 
 attends  those  who  know  not  to  be  silent  is, 
 that  thej^  hear  nothing.  Flutarch. 
 
 TALKER— Smoking. 
 The  pipe,  with  solemn  interposing  puff. 
 Makes  half  a  sentence  at  a  time  enough  ; 
 The  dozing  sages  drop  the  drowsy  strain. 
 Then   pause,    and   pufl' — then  speak,  and 
 
 pause  again. 
 Such  often,  like  the  tube  they  so  admire. 
 Important  triflers  !  have  more  smoke  thnn 
 
 fire.  Cowper. 
 
 TALKING— Dogmatical. 
 
 Where  men  of  judgment  creep  and  feel 
 
 their  way. 
 The  positive  pronounce  without  dismay; 
 Their  want  of  light  and  intellect  supplied 
 By  sparks,  absurdity  strikes  out  of  pride. 
 Without  the  means  of  knowing  right  from 
 
 wrong. 
 They  always  are  decisive,  clear  and  strong ; 
 Where  others  toil  with  philosophic  force. 
 Their   nimble   nonsense    takes   a    shorter 
 
 course ; 
 Flings  at  your  head  conviction  in  the  lump. 
 And  gains  remote  conclusions  at  a  jump  : 
 Their  own  defect  invisible  to  them. 
 Seen  in  another,  they  at  once  condemn ; 
 And,  though  self-idolised  in  every  case. 
 Hate  their  own  likeness  in  a  brother's  face. 
 The  cause  is  plain  and  not  to  be  denied. 
 The  proud  are  always  most  provoked  by 
 
 pride ; 
 Tew  competitions  but  engender  spite; 
 And  those  the  most  where  neither  has  a 
 
 right.  Cowper. 
 
 TALKING— luflnence  of  Knowledge  in. 
 
 Great  knowledge  if  it  be  without  vanity 
 is  the  most  severe  bridle  of  the  tongue. 
 For  so  have  I  heard,  that  all  the  noises  and 
 prating  of  the  pool,  the  croaking  of  frogs 
 and  toads,  is  hushed  and  appeased  upon 
 the  instant  of  bringing  upon  them  the 
 light  of  a  candle  or  torch.  Every  beam  of 
 reason  and  ray  of  knowledge  checks  the 
 dissolutions  of  the  tongue.         Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 TALKING— Literary. 
 
 Men  of  letters  must  be  warned  against 
 talking  exclusively  on  literature  in  mixed 
 companies.  Even  if  they  confine  them- 
 selves strictly  to  their  mother-tongue,  it 
 is  not  to  be  borne  with.  Many  an  excel- 
 lent woman  has  listened  to  the  jargon  of 
 literati,  thinking,  in  the  words  of  Mrs. 
 Teresa  Panza,  "  Though  I  cannot  read  a 
 jot,  I  can  spin."  Not  a  few  men  think 
 that  a  knowledge  of  books  is  far  from  com- 
 prising all  the  useful  information  in  the 
 world — men,  too,  who  can  think,  and  this 
 well,  on  themes  entertaining  to  all,  and  who 
 have  been  so  annoyed  by  bibliomaniacs, 
 that  they  could  almost  wish  that  another 
 Omar  might  rise  and  burn  all  the  books  in 
 Germany.  O.  W.  Hervey. 
 
830 
 
 TALKING— TASTE. 
 
 TALKING— Much. 
 
 But  some  men  will  never  de  cured  with- 
 out a  cancer  or  a  quinsey ;  and  such  per- 
 sons are  taught  by  all  men  what  to  do; 
 for  if  they  would  avoid  all  company  as 
 willingly  as  company  avoids  them,  they 
 might  quickly  have  a  silence  great  as  mid- 
 night, prudent  as  the  Spartan  brevity. 
 But  God's  grace  is  sufficient  to  all  that 
 ■will  make  use  of  it ;  and  there  is  no  way 
 for  the  cure  of  this  evil,  but  the  direct 
 obeying  of  a  counsel,  and  submitting  to  the 
 precept,  and  fearing  the  Divine  thre;it- 
 ening ;  always  remembering,  that  of  every 
 word  a  man  speaks,  he  shall  give  account 
 at  the  day  of  judgment.  I  pray  God 
 show  us  all  mercy  in  that  day,  and  forgive 
 us  the  sins  of  the  tongue.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 Let  your  words  be  few,  especially  when 
 your  betters,  or  strangers,  or  men  of  more 
 experience,  or  understanding,  are  in  the 
 place,  for  you  do  yourself  at  once  two 
 great  mischiefs:  1.  You  betray,  and  dis- 
 cover your  own  weakness  and  folly ;  2. 
 You  rob  yourself  of  that  opportunity  which 
 you  might  otherwise  have  to  gain  know- 
 ledge, wisdom,  and  experience,  by  hearing 
 those  that  you  silence  by  your  impertinent 
 talking.  Sir  M.  Sale. 
 
 A  man  that  speaketh  too  much,  andmuseth 
 
 but  little  and  lightly, 
 Wasteth  his  mind  in  words,  and  is  counted 
 
 a  fool  among  men.  Tapper. 
 
 TALKING— Professional. 
 
 They  commit  an  impropriety  who  talk 
 much  of  subjects  pertaining  to  their  pro- 
 fession, or  business,  or  amusements.  It 
 savours  of  selfishness,  if  not  of  vanity,  to 
 be  ever  harping  upon  our  daily  employ- 
 ments, and  to  allow  such  themes  to  swallow 
 up  those  that  are  of  general  interest.  A 
 magistrate  once  gave  Dr.  Johnson  a  long, 
 tedious  account  of  the  exercise  of  his 
 criminal  jurisdiction,  the  result  of  which 
 was  his  having  sentenced  four  convicts  to 
 transportation.  The  doctor,  in  an  agony 
 of  impatience  to  get  rid  of  such  a  com- 
 panion, exclaimed  :  "  I  heartily  wish,  sir, 
 I  were  a  fifth."  G.  W.  Rervey. 
 
 TALKING— Small. 
 
 So  language  in  the  mouths  of  the  adult, 
 
 "Witness  its  insignificant  result, 
 
 Too  often  proves  an  implement  of  play, 
 
 A  toy  to  sport  with,  and  pass  time  away. 
 
 Collect  at  evening  what  the  day  brought 
 
 forth. 
 Compress  the  sum  into  its  solid  worth. 
 And  if  it  weigh  the  importance  of  a  fly. 
 The  scales  are  false,  or  algebra  a  lie. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 TALKING-Small. 
 
 The  circle  formed,  we  sit  in  silent  state, 
 Like  figures  drawn  upon  a  dial  plate  j 
 Y'es,  ma'am,  and  no,  m'am,  uttered  softly 
 
 show 
 Every  five  minutes,  bow  the  minutes  go  : 
 Each  individual  suffering  a  constraint. 
 Poetry  may,  but  colours  cannot  paint ; 
 As  if  in  close  committee  on  the  sky. 
 Reports  it  hot  or  cold,  or  wet  or  dry; 
 And  finds  a  changing  clime  a  happy  source 
 Of  wise  reflection,  and  well-timed  discourse. 
 We  next  inquire,  but  softly,  and  by  stealth. 
 Like  conservators  of  the  public  health. 
 Of  epidemic  throats,  if  such  there  are. 
 And  coughs  and  rheums,  and  phthisic,  and 
 
 catarrh. 
 That  theme  exhausted,  a  wide  chasm  ensues, 
 Filled  up  at  last  with  interesting  news. 
 Who  danced  with  whom,  and  who  are  like 
 
 to  wed,  [bed ; 
 
 And  who  is  hanged,  and  who  is  brought  to 
 But  fear  to  call  a  more  important  cause. 
 As  if  'twere  treason  against  English  laws. 
 The  visit  paid,  with  ecstasy  we  come, 
 As   from    a    seven   years'   transportation, 
 
 home. 
 And  there  resume  an  unembarrassed  brow. 
 Recovering  what  we  lost  we  know  not  how, 
 The  faculties  that  seemed  reduced  to  naught, 
 Expression  and  the  privilege  of  thought. 
 
 Cowper. 
 TASTE— Definitions  of. 
 
 Taste  is  that  sensibility  by  which  we 
 recognise  the  beauties  and  deformities  of 
 nature  or  art,  deriving  pleasure  from  the 
 one,  and  suffering  pain  from  the  other. 
 
 Way  I  and. 
 
 Taste  is,  in  general,  considered  as  that 
 
 faculty  of  the  Human  Mind,  by  which  we 
 
 perceive  and  enjoy  whatever  is  beautiful 
 
 or  SUBLIME  in  the  works  of  Nature  or  Art. 
 
 Archibald  Allison.  . 
 
 TASTE— Depravity  of. 
 
 We  may  say  in  a  few  words  that  what- 
 ever injures  the  body,  the  morals,  or  the 
 mind,  will  lessen  or  vitiate  taste;  thus, 
 disorders  of  the  body,  and  violent  passions 
 of  the  mind,  will  do  this,  and  so  will  also 
 excessive  care  or  covetousness  ;  but  above 
 all,  a  habit  of  intemperance  and  keeping 
 low  company  will  greatly  deprave  that 
 which  was  once  a  good  taste.  Osborne. 
 
 TASTE— the  Gift  of  God. 
 Say  what  is  taste,  but  the  internal  powers 
 Active  and  strong,  and  feelingly  alive 
 To  each  fine  impulse  ?  a  discerning  sense 
 Of  decent  and  sublime,  with  quick  disgust 
 From  things  deform'd  or    disarrang'd,  or 
 gross  [gold, 
 
 In  species  ?     This,  nor  gems,  nor  stores  of 
 Nor  purple  state,  nor  culture  can  bestow  : 
 
TASTE— TEARS. 
 
 831 
 
 But  God  alone,  when  first  His  active  hand 
 Imprints  the  sacred  bias  of  the  soul. 
 
 Akemide. 
 
 TASTE— Varieties  of. 
 
 Different  minds 
 Incline  to  different  objects  ;  one  pursues 
 The  vast  alone,  the  wonderful,  tlie  wild ; 
 Another,  sighs  for  harmony,  and  grace, 
 And  gentlest  beauty.     Hence  when  light- 
 ning fires  [ground ; 
 The  arch  of  heaven,  and  thunders  rock  the 
 When  furious  whirlwinds  rend  the  howling 
 
 air. 
 And  ooean,  groaning  from  his  lowest  bed. 
 Heaves  his  tempestuous  billows  to  the  sky, 
 And  mid  the  mighty  uproar,  while  below 
 The   nations   tremble,    Shakespeare   looks 
 
 abroad 
 Prom  some  high  cliff,  superior,  and  enjoys. 
 The  elemental  war ;  but  Waller  longs, 
 All  on  the  margin  of  some  flowery  stream. 
 To  spread  his  careless  limbs  amid  the  cool 
 Of  plaintain  shades,  and  to  the  list'ning 
 
 deer. 
 The  tale  of  slighted  vows  and  love's  disdain. 
 Resounds  soft  warbling  all  the   live-long 
 
 day; 
 Consenting  zephyr  sighs,  the  weeping  rill 
 Joins  in  his  plaint,  melodious;   mute  the 
 groves,  [mourn. 
 
 And   hill  and  dale  with  all   their  echoes 
 Such  and  so  various  are  the  tastes  of  men. 
 Akenside. 
 
 TASTE  AND  GENIUS. 
 
 Taste  in  all  probability  from  the  Latin 
 tactum,  and  tango  to  touch,  seems  to  de- 
 signate the  capacity  to  derive  pleasure 
 from  an  object:  Genius  designates  the 
 power  we  have  for  accomplishing  any 
 object.  He  who  derives  particular  plea- 
 sure from  music  may  be  said  to  have  a 
 tasfe  for  music;  he  who  makes  very  great 
 proficiency  in  the  theory  and  practice  of 
 music,  may  be  said  to  have  a  genius  for  it. 
 It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that  we  may  have 
 a  taste  without  having  genius;  but  it 
 would  not  be  possible  to  have  genius  for  a 
 thing  without  having  a  taste  for  it ;  for 
 nothing  can  so  effectually  give  a  taste  for 
 any  accomplishment,  as  the  capacity  to 
 learn  it,  and  the  susceptibility  of  all  its 
 beauties,  which  circumstances  are  in- 
 separable from  genius.  G.  Or  abb. 
 
 Taste  and  genius  are  two  words  fi-e- 
 quently  joined  together,  but  different  in 
 their  meaning.  There  may  be  taste  with- 
 out genius,  but  there  cannot  be  genius 
 without  taste.  Taste  consists  in  the  power 
 of  judging,  genius  in  the  power  of  exe- 
 cuting. One  may  have  a  considerable 
 degree  of  taste  in  poetry,  oratory,  painting, 
 &c.,  who  has  very  little  genius  for  compo- 
 sition or  execution  in  any  of  these.  Genius 
 
 always  imports  something  inventive,  or  a 
 power  to  execute  something,  and  therefore 
 deserves  to  be  considered  as  a  higher  power 
 of  the  mind  than  taste.  Dr.  Blair. 
 
 TEACHER— A. 
 
 A  teacher  is  a  kind  of  intellectual  mid- 
 wife. Many  of  ^hem,  too,  discharge  their 
 office  after  the  fashion  enjoined  on  Hebrew 
 midwives;  if  they  have  a  son  to  bring 
 into  the  world,  they  kill  him  ;  if  a  daughter, 
 they  let  her  live.  Strength  is  checked; 
 boldness  is  curbed ;  sharpness  is  blunted  ; 
 quickness  is  clogged;  height  is  curtailed 
 and  depi-essed ;  elasticity  is  damped  and 
 trodden  down ;  early  bloom  is  nipped : 
 feebleness  gives  little  trouble,  and  excites 
 no  fear,  so  it  is  let  alone. 
 
 How,  then,  does  genius  ever  contrive  to 
 escape  and  gain  a  footing  on  this  earth  of 
 ours  ? 
 
 The  birth  of  Minerva  may  show  us  the 
 
 way  :    it  sprmgs  fbrth  in  full  armour.     As 
 
 the  midwives  said  to  Pharaoh,  "  It  is  lively, 
 
 and  is  delivered  ere  the  midivives  come  in." 
 
 Sare. 
 
 TEARS— Childhood's. 
 
 The  tear  down  childhood's  cheek  that  flows 
 
 Is  like  the  dewdrop  on  the  rose ; 
 
 When  next  the  summer  breeze  comes  by, 
 
 And  waves  the  bush,  the  flower  is  dry. 
 
 Sir  W.  Scott. 
 
 TEARS— Definition  of. 
 
 The  safety-valves  of  the  heart,  when  too 
 much  pressure  is  laid  on.        Albert  Smith. 
 
 TEARS— False. 
 
 Sooner  mayest  thou  trust  thy  pocket  to 
 a  pickpocket  than  give  loyal  friendship  to 
 the  man  who  boasts  of  eyes  to  which  the 
 heart  never  mounts  in  dew !  Only  when 
 man  weeps  he  should  be  alone,  not  because 
 tears  are  weak,  but  they  should  be  secret. 
 Tears  are  akin  to  prayer — Pharisees  parade 
 prayers,  impostors  parade  tears. 
 
 Bulwer. 
 
 TEARS— of  God's  People. 
 
 They  are  the  tears  which  burst  from 
 our  hearts  when  we  look  upon  Him  whom 
 we  have  pierced,  and  weep  as  a  mother 
 that  weepeth  for  an  only  son;  the  tears 
 which  Christ  wept  over  Jerusalem,  fallen 
 and  impenitent,  foreseeing  its  relentless 
 doom;  the  tears  of  compassion  which  He 
 wept  over  the  sorrows  of  the  house  of 
 Lazarus;  the  tears  which  Paul  shed  when 
 in  the  city  of  Ephesus  he  went,  by  night 
 and  by  day^  from  house  to  house,  entreat- 
 ing the  people  to  be  reconciled  unto  God. 
 Not  the  bitter  and  disappointed  mood  of 
 Jonah  when  he  was  exceedingly  displeased 
 and  very  angry  because  the  Lord  had  re- 
 lented of  his  threateuings  against  Nineveh, 
 
TEARS— TEMPER. 
 
 and  entreated  God,  saying,  "Take,  I  be- 
 seech Thee,  my  life  away  from  me,  for  it 
 is  better  for  me  to  die  than  to  live  ;"  but 
 the  mood  of  Jeremiah  the  prophet,  when 
 he  exclaimed,  "  Is  there  no  halm  in  Gilead  ? 
 Is  there  no  physician  there?  Why  then 
 is  not  the  health  of  the  daughter  of  my 
 people  recovered  ?"  "  0  that  my  head  were 
 waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears, 
 that  I  might  weep  day  and  night  for  the 
 daughters  of  my  people  !"  Not  the  tears 
 of  pride  which  come  reluctant  from  the 
 steeled  head,  like  water  dropping  from  the 
 flmty  rock,  hut  the  tears  of  pride  humbled 
 and  convinced  by  the  power  of  God,  which 
 flow  copiously  like  the  stream  which  issued 
 from  the  rock,  when  it  had  been  smitten 
 by  the  wand  of  Moses,  the  messenger  of 
 God.  Not  the  tears  of  natural  desire  after 
 a  worldly  good,  nor  the  tears  of  natural 
 sorrow  for  a  worldly  good  removed,  but 
 the  tears  of  spiritual  desire  after  spiritual 
 good,  or  the  tears  of  sorrow  when  God 
 hath  hidden  His  countenance  or  removed 
 our  candlestick  out  of  its  former  place. 
 
 JE.  Irving. 
 
 TEARS— Joyous. 
 
 Tears  of  Joy  are  the  dew  in  which  the 
 Sun  of  Righteousness  is  mirrored. 
 
 Siehter. 
 
 TEARS— Sacredness  of. 
 
 There  is  a  sacredness  in  tears.  They  are 
 not  the  mark  of  weakness,  but  of  power. 
 They  speak  more  eloquently  than  ten 
 thousand  tongues.  They  are  the  messengers 
 of  overwhelming  grief,  of  deep  contrition, 
 and  of  unspeakable  love.  W.  Irving. 
 
 TEARS— Sympathy  of. 
 
 Thy  heart   is  big !     Get   thee   apart   and 
 
 weep. 
 Passion  I  see  is  catching ;  for  mine  eyes, 
 Seeing  those  beads   of    sorrow    stand   in 
 
 thine, 
 Begin  to  water.  Shakesjpeare. 
 
 I  did  not  think  to  shed  a  single  tear 
 
 In  all  my  miseries ;   hut  thou  hast  forc'd 
 
 me 
 Out  of  thy  honest  truth  to  play  the  woman. 
 Ibid. 
 
 TEARS— Various. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  that  spots  the  cheek. 
 And  speaks   more   than   the  tongue   can 
 speak 
 
 In  words  without  a  name, 
 Tliat  tells  of  many  a  pang  within 
 Of  many  a  foul  and  deadly  sin — 
 
 It  is  the  tear  of  shame. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  that  through  the  soul 
 Causes  compassion's  tide  to  roll 
 In  full  but  placid  flow, 
 
 That  shows  the  holy  maxim  trn" 
 How  man  is  born  his  guilt  to  rue — 
 It  is  the  tear  of  woe. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  whose  mute  appeals 
 Tell  all  the  conscious  bosom  feels. 
 
 With  thrilling  eloquence. 
 That  wrings  the  sympathetic  sigh 
 Where  ne'er  a  drop  had  dimm'd  the  eye — 
 
 The  tear  of  penitence. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  that  trickles  still 
 Announcing  all  the  worst  of  ill. 
 
 Too  bitter  for  relief. 
 That  when  by  some  dire  mis'ry  curst. 
 Swells  the  stretch'd  heart-strings  till  they 
 burst — 
 
 It  is  the  tear  of  grief. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  that  dims  the  ej^e, 
 When  answer'd  by  the  stifled  sigh. 
 
 That  speaks  of  woe  within, 
 Ploughing  a  channel  down  the  face 
 As  if  were  there  its  resting-place^ 
 
 It  is  the  tear  of  sin. 
 
 There  is  a  tear  that  fiercely  starts. 
 And  to  the  haughty  eye  imparts 
 
 A  glance,  by  guilt  supplied. 
 That  falls  not  o'er  the  moisten'd  lid — 
 To  flow  by  fierce  disdain  forbid — 
 
 It  is  the  tear  of  pride. 
 
 But  there's  a  tear  that  gently  flows. 
 And,  like  the  dew-drop  on  the  rose, 
 
 Refreshes  all  things  near — 
 In  which  the  sky  of  purest  blue 
 Reflects  its  own  celestial  hue — 
 
 It  is  religion's  tear.  Caunfer. 
 
 TEMPER— Cheerful. 
 
 A  cheerful  temper,  joined  with  innocence, 
 will  make  beauty  attractive,  knowledge 
 delightful,  and  wit  good-natured.  It  will 
 lighten  sickness,  poverty,  and  affliction ; 
 convert  ignorance  into  an  amiable  simpli- 
 city, and  render  deformity  itself  agreeable. 
 Addison. 
 
 TEMPER— Fretful. 
 
 Some  fretful  tempers  wince  at  every  touch. 
 You  always  do  too  little  or  too  much ; 
 You  speak  with  life  in  hopes  to  entertain, 
 Your    elevated   voice    goes    through    the 
 
 brain ; 
 You  fall  at  once  into  a  lower  key, 
 That's  worse — the  drone-pipe  of  an  humble 
 
 bee.  [light, 
 
 The   southern  sash   admits  too   strong  a 
 You  rise  and  drop  the  curtain — now  'tis 
 
 night. 
 He  shakes  with  cold — you  stir  the  fire  and 
 
 strive 
 To  make  a  blaze — that's  roasting  him  alive. 
 Serve  him  with  venison,  and  he  chooses 
 
 fish; 
 With  sole — that's  just  the  sort  he  would 
 
 not  wish. 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 833 
 
 Ho  takes  what  he  at  first   professed  to 
 
 loath, 
 And  in  due  time  feeds  heartily  on  both ; 
 Yet  still,  o'erclouded  with  a  constant  frown, 
 He  does  not  swallow,  but  he  gulps  it  down. 
 Your  hope  to  please  him,  vain  on  every 
 
 plan, 
 Himself  should  work  that  wonder  if  he 
 
 can. 
 Alas  !  his  efforts  double  his  distress. 
 He   likes  youi-s   little,  and   his  own  still 
 
 less. 
 Til  us  always  teasing  others,  always  teased. 
 His  only  pleasure  is— to  be  displeased. 
 
 Cow  per. 
 
 TEMPER— Good. 
 
 There's  not  a  cheaper  thing  on  earth. 
 
 Nor  yet  one  half  so  dear  ; 
 'Tis  worth  more  than  distinguished  birth. 
 
 Or  thousands  gained  a  year. 
 
 It  maketh  poverty  content. 
 
 To  sorrow  whispers  peace ; 
 It  is  a  gift  from  heaven  sent. 
 
 For  mortals  to  increase. 
 
 A  charm  to  banish  grief  away. 
 
 To  free  the  brow  from  care — 
 Turns  tears  to  smiles,  makes  dulness  gay, 
 
 Spreads  gladness  everywhere. 
 
 And  yet  'tis  cheap  as  summer's  dew 
 
 Tliat  gems  the  lily's  breast— 
 A  talisman  for  love  as  true 
 
 As  ever  man  possessed. 
 
 As  smiles  the  rainbow  through  the  cloud 
 When  threat'ning  storm  begins — 
 
 As  music  'mid  the  tempest  loud 
 That  still  its  sweet  way  wins — 
 
 As  springs  an  arch  across  the  tide 
 Wlieu  waves  conflicting  foam — 
 
 So  comes  the  seraph  to  our  side, 
 The  angel  to  our  home. 
 
 Wliat  may  this  wondering  spirit  be, 
 With  power  unheard  before — 
 
 This  chnrm,  this  bright  divinity  ? 
 Good  nature — nothing  more. 
 
 Good  temper — 'tis  the  choicest  gift 
 That  woman  homeward  brings. 
 
 And  can  the  poorest  peasant  lift 
 
 To  bliss  unknown  to  kings.  Swain, 
 
 Easy,  good-tempered,  affable  persons, 
 •whose  hearts  are  nevertheless  unrenewed 
 by  grace,  may  be  compared  to  ripe  plums 
 and  apricots,  which,  however  soft  and 
 smooth  on  the  outside,  yet  have  a  hard 
 stone  within.  Dr.  Arrowsmith. 
 
 TEMPER— Quarrelsome. 
 
 There  is  in  some  persons  an  excessive 
 lialiility  to  be  offended;  a  morbid  sensi- 
 bility which  is  kindled  to  anger  by  the 
 
 least  possible  injury,  whether  that  injury 
 is  intentional  or  unintentional.  They  are 
 all  combustible,  and  ignite  by  a  spark.  A 
 word,  nay,  a  look  is  enough  to  inflame 
 them.  Tliey  are  ever  ready  to  quarrel 
 with  any  or  everybody ;  and  remind  us  of 
 what  Cromwell  said  of  John  Lilburne,  that 
 he  was  so  quarrelsome  that  if  he  could 
 find  nobody  else  to  quarrel  with,  John 
 would  quarrel  with  Lilburne,  and  Lilburne 
 with  John.  J.  A.  James. 
 
 A  wolf  and  a  lamb  were  accidentally 
 quenching  their  thirst  together  at  the  same 
 rivulet.  The  wolf  stood  towards  the  head 
 of  the  stream,  and  the  lamb  at  some  dis- 
 tance below.  The  injurious  beast,  resolved 
 on  a  quarrel,  fiercely  demands,  "  How  dare 
 you  disturb  the  water  which  I  am  drink- 
 ing ?"  The  poor  lamb,  all  trembling,  re- 
 plies, "  How,  I  beseech  you,  can  that 
 possibly  be  the  case,  since  the  current  sets 
 from  you  to  me  ?  "  Disconcerted  by  the 
 force  of  truth,  he  changes  the  accusation. 
 "  Six  months  ago,"  says  he,  "  you  vilely 
 slandered  me."  "  Impossible,"  returns  the 
 lamb,  "  for  I  was  not  then  horn."  "  No 
 matter,  it  was  your  father  then,  or  some  of 
 your  relations."  And  immediately  seizing 
 the  innocent  lamb,  he  tore  him  in  pieces. 
 Aiion. 
 
 TEMPER— Subjection  of  the. 
 
 Too  many  have  no  idea  of  the  subjection 
 of  their  temper  to  the  influence  of  religion, 
 and  yet  what  is  changed  if  the  temper  is 
 not  ?  If  a  man  is  as  passionate,  malicious, 
 resentful,  sullen,  moody,  or  morose,  after 
 his  conversion  as  before  it,  what  is  he  con- 
 verted from  or  to  ?  J.  A.  James. 
 
 TEMPER— "Variation  of. 
 
 The  sea  is  not  so  calm  in  summer  but 
 hath  its  commotions  ;  the  mountain  so  firm 
 but  may  be  moved  with  an  earthquake. 
 Dogs  in  a  chase  bark  sometimes  at  their 
 own  masters.  So  do  men  in  their  passions 
 let  fly  at  their  best  friends.  When  tlie 
 taste  is  vitiated  it  mistakes.  When  there 
 is  a  suffusion  in  the  eye  (as  in  case  of  the 
 jaundice),  it  apprehends  colours  like  itself: 
 so  here.  Abraham  felt  the  motion  of  tre- 
 pidation ;  meek  Moses  was  over-angry  at 
 Meribtfh  ;  so  was  Job,  Jonas,  Jeremiah,  &c. 
 John  Trapjp. 
 
 TEMPER— Whining. 
 
 There  is  a  class  of  persons  in  this  world, 
 by  no  means  small,  whose  prominent  pe- 
 culiarity is  whining.  They  whine  because 
 they  are  poor,  or  if  rich,  because  they  have 
 no  health  to  enjoy  their  riches  ;  they  whine 
 because  it  is  too  shiny ;  they  whine  because 
 it  is  too  rainy ;  they  whine  because  they 
 have  "no  luck,"  and  others'  pro^per'ty 
 exceeds  theirs  ;  thev  whine  because  some 
 53 
 
834 
 
 TEMPERANCE— TEMPTATION. 
 
 friends  have  died  and  they  are  still  living ; 
 they  whine  because  they  have  aches  and 
 pains,  and  have  aches  and  pains  because 
 they  whine,  and  they  whine  no  one  can 
 tell  why.  T.  S.  Arthur. 
 
 TEMPERANCE— Benefits  of. 
 
 'Tis  to  thy  rules,  O  temperance  !  we  owe 
 
 All     pleasures    which    from    health    and 
 
 strength  can  flow ; 
 Vigour  of  body  and  purity  of  mind. 
 Unclouded  reason,  sentiment  refined. 
 
 Chandler. 
 
 Temperance  and  proper  diet 
 Keep  the  mind  and  body  quiet. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 O  temperance,  thou  fortune  without 
 envy;  thou  universal  medicine  of  life,  that 
 clears  the  head  and  cleanses  the  blood, 
 eases  the  stomach,  strengthens  the  nerves, 
 and  perfects  digestion.         Sir  W.  Temple. 
 
 TEMPERANCE— Definition  of. 
 
 Temperance  is  properly  that  virtue 
 which  moderates  our  aft'ections  in  their 
 pursuit  after  the  pleasures  of  the  flesh, 
 which  we  enjoy  in  common  with  the 
 beasts.  Temperance,  therefore,  chiefly 
 consists  in  restraining  that  concupiscence 
 which  the  external  senses,  when  any  ob- 
 ject grateful  to  them  is  ofiered,  are  apt  to 
 excite  in  us.  Limborch. 
 
 TEMPERANCE—Excellency  of. 
 
 Temperance  is  a  bridle  of  gold,  and  he 
 
 that  can  use  it  aright  is  liker  a  God  than 
 
 a  man ;  for  as  it  will  transform  a  beast  to 
 
 a  man  again,  so  it  will  make  a  man  a  God. 
 
 Burton. 
 
 TEMPERANCE— Nature  of. 
 
 Temperance  is  love  taking  exercise,  love 
 enduring  hardness,  love  seeking  to  become 
 healthful  and  athletic.  We  striving  for 
 the  mastery  in  all  things,  and  bringing 
 the  body  under.  It  is  superiority  to  sen- 
 sual delights,  and  it  is  the  power  of  apply- 
 ing resolutely  to  irksome  duties  for  the 
 Master's  sake.  It  is  self-denial  and  self- 
 eontrol.  Fearful  lest  it  should  subside  to 
 gross  carnality,  or  waste  away  into  sha- 
 dowy and  hectic  sentiment,  temperance  is 
 love  alert,  and  timeously  astir  ;  sometimes 
 rising  before  day  for  prayer,  sometimes 
 spending  that  day  on  tasks  which  laziness 
 or  daintiness  declines.  It  is  love  with  girt 
 loins,  and  dusty  feet,  and  blistered  hands. 
 It  is  love  with  the  empty  scrip,  but  the 
 glowing  cheek ;  love  subsisting  on  pulse 
 and  water,  but  grown  so  healthful  and  so 
 hardy,  that  it  beareth  all  things,  believeth 
 all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  cndureth  all 
 things.  Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 TEMPERANCE— better  than  Physic. 
 
 Physic  is  of  little  use  to  a  temperate 
 person,  for  a  man's  own  observation  on 
 what  he  finds  does  him  good,  and  what 
 hurts  him,  is  the  best  physic  to  preserve 
 health.  .  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Ad  aptedness  of. 
 
 The  devil  doth  not  know  the  hearts  of 
 men  but  he  may  feel  their  pulse,  know 
 their  temper,  and  so  accordingly  can  apply 
 himself.  As  the  husbandman  knows  what 
 seed  is  proper  to  sow  in  such  soil ;  so  Satan, 
 finding  out  the  temper,  knows  what  temp- 
 tation is  proper  to  sow  in  such  a  heart. 
 That  way  the  tide  of  a  man's  constitution 
 runs,  that  way  the  wind  of  temptation 
 blows.  Satan  tempts  the  ambitious  man 
 with  a  crown,  the  sanguine  man  with 
 beauty,  the  covetous  man  with  a  wedge  of 
 gold.  He  provides  savoury  meat,  such  as 
 the  sinner  loves.  T.  Watson. 
 
 TEMPTATION— After. 
 
 It  is  a  fact  which  all  close  students  of 
 human  character  must  have  observed,  that 
 there  is  a  back-water  of  temptation,  if  I 
 may  so  speak,  which  is  more  deadly  than 
 its  direct  assaults.  You  may  fight  hard 
 against  temptation,  and  fight  victoriously. 
 You  may  beat  it  oft",  and  crush  it  down ; 
 and  then,  when,  weary  with  the  conflict, 
 you  suff"er  the  strain  of  vigilance  to  relax, 
 it  shall  steal  in  and  easily  master  the  cita- 
 del, which  lately  it  spent  all  its  force  in 
 vain  to  win.  Beware  of  your  bes^.  m  i- 
 ments  as  well  as  of  your  worst ;  or  rather 
 the  moments  which  succeed  the  best.  They 
 are  the  most  perilous  of  all.  Just  when 
 the  consciousness  of  a  triumph  seetns  to 
 permit  and  justify  disarmament  for  a  mo- 
 ment, the  subtle  foe  with  whom  you  have 
 to  deal  will  steal  in  on  you,  and  win  a 
 treacherous  victory.  J.  B.  Brown. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Benefits  of. 
 
 When  thou  art  tempted  or  troubled, 
 think  upon  the  remedy  that  our  Saviour 
 saith  in  His  Gospel,  "  Watch  ye  and  pray 
 ye,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation." 
 He  saith  not.  Pray  ye  that  ye  be  not 
 tempted ;  for  it  is  good  and  profitable  to 
 good  men  to  be  tempted  and  troubled,  as 
 is  shown  by  what  the  prophet  saith.  To 
 him  that  is  tempted  and  troubled  God 
 saith,  "  I  am  with  him  in  tribulation  ;  I 
 shall  deliver  him,  and  shall  glorify  him." 
 Let  no  man  think  himself  to  be  holy  be- 
 cause he  is  not  tempted,  for  the  holiest 
 and  highest  in  life  have  the  most  tempta- 
 tions. How  much  the  higher  a  hill  is,  so 
 much  is  the  wind  there  greater ;  so,  how 
 much  higher  the  life  is,  so  much  stronger 
 is  the  temptation  of  the  enemy.  God 
 playeth  with  His  child  when  He  sufl"ereth 
 him  to  be  tempted,  as  a  mother  rises  from 
 
TEMPTATION. 
 
 her  mudi  beloved  child,  and  hides  herself, 
 and  leaves  him  alone,  and  suffers  him  to 
 cry,  Mother,  mother,  so  that  he  looks 
 about,  cries  and  weeps  for  a  time,  and  at 
 last,  when  the  child  is  ready  to  be  overset 
 with  troubles  and  weeping,  she  comes 
 again,  clasps  him  in  her  arms,  and  kisses 
 him,  and  wipes  away  the  tears.  So  our 
 Lord  suffereth  His  loved  child  to  be 
 tempted  and  troubled  for  a  time,  and 
 withdraweth  some  of  His  solace  and  full 
 protection,  to  see  what  His  child  will  do ; 
 and  when  he  is  about  to  be  overcome  by 
 temptations,  then  He  defendeth  him,  and 
 comforteth  him  with  His  grace.  And 
 therefore,  when  we  are  tempted,  let  us 
 cry  for  the  help  of  our  Father,  as  a  child 
 cries  after  the  co;iifort  of  its  mother.  For 
 whoso  prayeth  devoutly  shall  have  help 
 oft  to  pray;  and  it  shall  profit  much  to 
 establish  the  heart  in  God,  and  suffer  it 
 not  to  bow  about,  now  into  this,  and  now 
 into  that.  The  fiend  is  overcome  by  busy 
 and  devout  prayer,  and  becomes  feeble  and 
 without  strength  to  them  that  are  strong 
 and  persevering  in  devout  prayer.  Devout 
 prayer  of  a  holy  soul  is  as  sweet  incense 
 which  driveth  away  all  evil  savours,  and 
 enters  up  by  odour  of  sweetness  into  the 
 presence  of  God.  WicJcliff. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Courting. 
 
 We  read  a  story  of  a  virtuous  lady  that 
 desired  of  St.  Athanasius  to  procure  for 
 her,  out  of  the  number  of  the  widows  fed 
 from  the  ecclesiastical  corban,  an  old 
 woman,  morose,  peevish,  and  impatient, 
 that  she  might,  by  the  society  of  so  un- 
 gentle a  person,  have  often  occasion  to 
 exercise  her  patience,  her  forgiveness,  and 
 charity.  I  know  not  how  well  the  counsel 
 succeeded  with  her;  I  am  sare  it  was  not 
 very  safe :  and  to  invite  the  trouble,  to 
 triumph  over  it,  is  to  wage  a  war  of  an 
 uncertain  issue,  for  no  end  but  to  get  the 
 pleasures  of  the  victory,  which  oftentimes 
 do  not  pay  for  the  trouble,  never  for  the 
 danger.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Danger  of. 
 
 I  have  been  much  affected  with  the  fol- 
 lowing reflection : — Though,  if  not  greatly 
 deceived,  1  have  had  some  degree  of  ex- 
 perimental acquaintance  with  Jesus  Christ 
 for  almost  forty  years ;  though  I  have 
 borne  the  ministerial  character  for  upwards 
 of  twenty-five  years ;  though  I  have  been 
 perhaps  of  some  little  use  in  the  Church  of 
 Gjd ;  and  though  I  have  had  a  greater 
 share  of  esteem  among  religious  people 
 than  I  had  any  reason  to  expect ;  yet, 
 after  all,  it  is  possible  for  me,  in  one  single 
 hour  of  temptation,  to  blast  my  character — 
 to  ruin  my  public  usefulness — and  to  render 
 my  warmest  Christian  friends  ashamed  of 
 owning  me.  Booth. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Danger  of. 
 
 See  where  the  tree  its  richest  foliage  wears, 
 And  golden  fruit  its  laden  branches  bears. 
 Behold  conceal'd  beneath  its  shade  side- 
 long 
 The   glossy   serpent,   with    its    poisonous 
 
 tongue ; 
 The  simple  boy,  far  from  his  father's  care. 
 Is  well-nigh  taken  with  the  gilded  snare. 
 The  tempting  fruit,  outspread  before  his 
 
 eyes. 
 Fills  him  with  rapture  and  complete  sur- 
 prise ; 
 Nor  hidden  dangers  will  he  wait  to  see, 
 But  onward  hastens  to  the  fatal  tree. 
 His  father  sees  him,  and,  with  faltering 
 
 breath. 
 Recalls  his  loved  one  from  the  brink   of 
 
 death. 
 Nor  waits  reply,  but  on  the  spot  he  sjjrings. 
 And  saves  his  darling  from  the  serpent's 
 stings.  W.  Holmes. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Different  in. 
 
 Satan  tempts  some  persons  more  than 
 others ;  some  are  like  wet  tinder,  who  will 
 not  soon  take  tjie  fire  of  temptation  as 
 others.  Satan  tempts  most  when  he  thinks 
 his  policies  will  more  easily  prevail;  some 
 are  fitter  to  receive  the  impression  of 
 temptation,  as  soft  wax  is  fitter  to  receive 
 the  impression  of  the  seal.  The  apostle 
 speaks  of  "  vessels  fitted  for  destruction  ;" 
 so  there  are  vessels  fitted  for  temptation. 
 Some,  like  the  sponge,  suck  in  Satan's 
 temptations.  T.  Watson. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Everywhere. 
 
 A  countryman  riding  with  an  unknown 
 traveller  (whom  he  conceived  honest)  over 
 a  dangei'ous  plain,  "This  place,"  said  he, 
 "  is  infamous  for  robbery ;  but  for  my  own 
 part,  though  often  riding  over  it  early  and 
 late,  I  never  saw  anything  woi'se  than  my- 
 self." "  In  good  time,"  replied  the  other, 
 and  presently  demanded  his  purse,  and 
 robbed  him.  Thus  it  is  that  no  place,  no 
 company,  no  age,  no  person  is  temptation- 
 free  ;  let  no  man  boast  that  he  was  never 
 tempted,  let  him  not  be  high-minded,  but 
 fear,  for  he  may  be  surprised  in  that  very 
 instant  wherein  he  boasteth  that  he  was 
 never  tempted  at  all.  Spencer. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Explained. 
 
 There  is  an  old  story  of  two  knights 
 who  fell  into  a  quarrel,  almost  into  a  com- 
 bat, about  a  shield — the  one  asserting, 
 and  prepared  with  his  sword  to  maintain, 
 that  the  shield  was  made  of  gold ;  the 
 other  as  positively  asserting  that  it  was 
 not  gold,  but  silver.  Both  were  right; 
 and  there  was  no  more  occasion  for  quarrel 
 between  them  than  there  has  often  been 
 between  good  men  in  rehgious  controversy. 
 
TEMPTATION. 
 
 Lookin^at  a  doctrine  from  different  points 
 of  view,  noD  having  the  same  stand-point, 
 as  it  is  called,  they  quarrelled;  and  the 
 quarrel  was  a  mistake.  These  two  knights 
 saw  one  and  the  same  shield;  but  looking 
 on  it  from  opposite  sides,  each  saw  a  differ- 
 ent face  ;  this  was  of  silver,  liiat  of  gold. 
 
 Like  that  shield,  the  word  temptation, 
 as  used  in  Holy  Scripture,  has  to  be  re- 
 garded under  two  aspects.  It  has  two 
 meanings ;  and  unless  care  be  taken  to 
 distinguish  the  one  from  the  other,  we 
 mrty  fall  into  a  very  serious  mistake. 
 Sometimes  temptation  is  employed  as  an- 
 other word  for  affliction,  trials ;  at  other 
 times  in  a  sense  so  different  that,  instead 
 of  counting  it,  as  the  apostle  James  says, 
 all  joy,  we  should  dread  nothing  more 
 than  to  fall  into  divers  temptations. 
 Wliatever  is  calculated  to  inflame  our  cor- 
 ruptions, and  has  a  tendency,  from  its  own 
 nature  and  ours,  to  seduce  us  into  sin,  is 
 temptation ;  and  it  is  in  this  sense  the 
 word  is  used  when  it  is  said,  "  Let  no 
 man  say  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am 
 tempted  of  God ;  for  God  cannot  be 
 tempted  with  evil,  neither  tempteth  He 
 any  man.  But  evei-y  man  is  tempted 
 when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his  lust,  and  is 
 enticed.  Then  when  lust  has  conceived  it 
 brlngeth  forth  sin ;  and  sin,  when  it  is 
 finished,  brlngeth  forth  death." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Falling  into. 
 
 He  who  daily  and  truly  utters  the 
 prayer,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation," 
 will  seek  to  avoid  not  only  the  evil,  but 
 tlie  very  appearance  of  evil.  The  story  of 
 Alypius  shows  how  easy  it  is  to  fall  into 
 hurtful  and  dangerous  lusts  when  once 
 vain  curiosity  or  unrighteous  desire  is  in- 
 dulged, 
 
 Alypius,  a  friend  of  St.  Augustine,  was 
 accustomed  to  hold  in  the  utmost  horror 
 and  detestation  the  gladiatorial  combats 
 which  were  exhibited  in  the  age  in  which 
 he  lived.  Being  invited  one  day  by  his 
 companions  to  be  a  spectator  of  those  in- 
 human sports,  he  refused  to  go.  They, 
 however,  insisted  on  his  accompanying 
 tliem,  and  drew  him  along  against  his 
 will.  When  they  had  all  taken  their  seats, 
 the  games  commenced.  Alypius  shut  his 
 eyes,  that  objects  so  abominable  might  not 
 pollute  his  mind.  "  Would  to  God,"  said 
 Augustine,  "  he  had  also  stopped  his  ears  !" 
 For,  having  heard  a  great  cry,  he  suffered 
 himself  to  be  conquered  by  his  curiosity, 
 and  opened  his  eyes  to  see  what  it  was, 
 imagining  he  still  retained  the  power  of 
 shutting  them.  Oue  of  the  combatants 
 was  wounded.  No  sooner  did  he  behold 
 the  purple  stream  issuing  from  the  body 
 of  this  unhappy  wretch,  than,  instead  of 
 turning  away  his  eyes,  they  were  arrested 
 
 by  the  object,  and  he  actually  became  in- 
 toxicated with  those  brutal  combats.  He 
 was  no  longer  the  same  man ;  by  degrees 
 he  imbibed  the  sentiments  of  the  multi- 
 tude around  him,  joined  in  their  shouts 
 and  exclamations,  and  carried  away  from 
 the  amphitheatre  a  violent  passion  for  re- 
 turning; and  not  only  did  he  go  the 
 second  time  with  those  who  had  ensnared 
 him,  but  he  himself  enticed  others.  Yet 
 this  man  began  at  first  with  an  abhorrence 
 of  such  criminal  amusements,  and  resolved 
 to  take  no  part  in  them ;  but  sad  ex- 
 perience taught  him  that  the  best  reso- 
 lutions are  insufficient  to  withstand  so 
 great  temptation,  and  that  the  only  way 
 to  escape  danger  is  to  keep  at  a  distance 
 from  it.  Stamp. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Good  of. 
 
 Temptation  is  the  fire  that  brings  up 
 the  scum  of  the  heart.  Boston. 
 
 Temptation  is  the  file  which  rubs  off 
 much  of  the  rust  of  self-confidence. 
 
 Fe}ielon. 
 
 The  temptations  of  Satan,  which  he  in- 
 tended for  their  destruction,  frequently 
 become  jewels  to  adorn  the  crowns  of  God's 
 people,  before  the  eternal  throne.       Anon. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Necessary. 
 
 Luther  said  that  temptation  was  an  im- 
 portant qualification  for  a  minister.  It  is 
 equally  necessary  to  the  Christian.  If  to 
 be  a  Christian  is  to  be  Christ-like,  a  man 
 cannot  be  a  Christian  without  temptation ; 
 for  He  was  tempted  sorely,  repeatedly, 
 through  life.  To  be  like  Christ,  therefore, 
 in  this  world  we  must,  more  or  less,  be 
 the  subjects  of  temptation.  But  He  in- 
 stantly and  successfully  resisted  tempta- 
 tion, so  that  though  tempted.  He  was 
 "  without  sin."  We  also,  to  carry  out 
 the  Christian  character,  must  resist,  to 
 complete  victory,  all  the  teiiiptations  to 
 sin  with  which  we  may  be  assailed  from 
 every  quarter.  John  Bate. 
 
 TEMPTATION — after  an  Ordinance. 
 
 After  we  have  been  at  the  solemn  wor- 
 ship of  God,  we  are  apt  to  grow  remiss, 
 and  leave  off  former  strictness ;  like  a  sol- 
 dier that,  after  the  battle,  leaves  off  his 
 armour.  Now  Satan  watcheth  his  time ; 
 he  doth  as  David  did  to  the  Amalekites  : 
 after  they  had  taken  the  spoil,  and  were 
 secure,  they  did  eat,  and  drink,  and  dance ; 
 now  David"  fell  upon  them,  and  did  smite 
 them  (1  Sam.  xxx,  17).  So  when  we  grow 
 remiss  after  an  ordinance,  and  perhaps  too 
 much  indulge  ourselves  in  carnal  delights, 
 now  Satan  falls  upon  us  by  a  temptation, 
 and  oft  foils  us.  As,  after  a  full  meal,  men 
 are  apt  to  grow  drowsy ;  so  after  we  have 
 
TEMPTATION— TEMPTATION  IN  DEATH. 
 
 837 
 
 had  a  full  meal  at  an  ordinance,  we  are  apt 
 to  slumber  and  grow  secure,  and  now  Satan 
 shoots  his  arrow  of  temptation,  and  hits  us 
 hetween  the  joints  of  oui-  armour. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Plan  of. 
 
 The  devil  acts  according  to  a  plan 
 "i\hich  we  should  know,  and  which  the 
 Hdly  Ghost  reveals  to  us  :  "the  lust  of  the 
 lesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of 
 Jfe."  He  adhered  to  that  plan  with  Eve, 
 ivho  yielded  to  temptation  when  she  saw, 
 first,  that  the  fruit  "  was  good  for  food," 
 then  "  that  it  was  pleasant  to  the  eyes," 
 and  lastly,  that  it  was  "  to  he  desired  to 
 make  one  wise."  He  adopted  it,  equally, 
 with  Jesus,  whom  he  tempted,  first,  by  the 
 want  of  the  flesh  ;  secondly,  by  the  ex- 
 hibition of  earthly  pomp;  lastly,  by  the 
 pride  of  a  wonderful  miracle. 
 
 Adolphe  Monod. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Resistance  of. 
 
 I  must  not  pray  simply  against  tempta- 
 tions, though  I  may  against  the  evil  of 
 temptation  ;  for  a  Christian  may  be  tempt- 
 ed, and  yet  not  overcome ;  a  castle  may 
 be  assaulted,  and  yet  not  taken.  If  Satan 
 inject  an  evil  motion,  and  I  reject  it,  this 
 is  not  mine,  but  the  devil's  sin ;  this  shall 
 be  a  shining  jewel  in  my  crown  of  victory, 
 and  as  an  aggravating  item  in  his  day  of 
 judgment.  ^"0»- 
 
 TEMPTATION— after  Special  Blessing. 
 
 Satan,  like  a  pirate,  sets  on  a  ship 
 that  is  richly  ladeu ;  so  when  a  soul  hath 
 been  laden   with   spiritual   comforts,  now 
 
 TEMPTATION— Watching  against. 
 
 "  Stand  in  awe  and  sin  not ;"  "  Watch 
 and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into  tempta- 
 tion/' are  warnings  which  no  good  man 
 should  disregard.  Is  this  to  be  a  coward  ? 
 Anything  else  were  the  height  of  rashness. 
 Who  sleeps  by  a  magazine  of  gunpowder, 
 needs  to  take  care  even  of  sparks;  wh< 
 walks  on  slippery  ice,  let  him  not  go  star- 
 gazing, but  look  to  his  feet,  and  take  care 
 of  tailing.  Whatever  pr'7Vokes  sin,  though 
 beautiful  as  Bathsheba,  what  is  in  its  nature 
 calculated,  and  by  the  cunning  fiend  in- 
 tended to  draw  us  into  transgression,  is  w 
 danger  against  which  we  cannot  be  too 
 mucli  upon  our  guard.  Though  in  them- 
 selves innocent,  pleasures  are  sought  at 
 too  great  hazard  that  grow  on  dizzy  crag, 
 or  among  the  grass  where  adders  creep,  or 
 in  the  lofty  crevice  of  stone  tottering  wall, 
 or  on  the  brink  of  a  swollen  flood  ;  and  all 
 the  more  if,  such  as  our  poet  describes — 
 "  Pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread. 
 We  nip  the  flower,  the  bloom  is  fled  j 
 Or  like  the  snow-flake  on  the  river, 
 A  moment  white,  then  gone  for  ever." 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 TEMPTATION  IN  DEATH. 
 
 A  few  hours  before  his  death,  Knox 
 awoke  from  a  sleep,  and  being  asked  the 
 cause  of  his  sighing  so  deeply,  replied,  "  I 
 have  formerly,  during  my  frail  life,  sus- 
 tained many  contests  and  many  assaults 
 of  Satan  ;  but  at  present  that  roaring  lion 
 hath  assailed  me  most  furiously,  and  put 
 forth  all  his  strength  to  devour  and  make 
 an  end  of  me  at  once.     Often  before  has 
 
 the  devil  will  be  shooting  at  him  to  rob  j^^  placed  my  sins  before  my  eyes,  often 
 him  of  all.  The  devil  envies  to  see  a  soul  |  tempted  me  to  despair,  often  endeavoured 
 feasted  with  spiritual  joy.     Joseph's  party-     ^^  ensnare  me  by  the  allurements  of  the 
 
 spiritual  joy, 
 
 coloured  coat  made  his  brethren  envy  him, 
 and  plot  against  him.  After  David  had 
 the  good  news  of  the  pardon  of  his  sin 
 (which  must  needs  fill  with  consolation) 
 Satan  presently  tempted  him  to  a  new 
 sin  in  numbering  the  people  ;  and  so  all 
 his  comfort  leaked  out  and  was  spilt. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 TEMPTATION— Standard  of. 
 
 The  true  standard  of  temptation  lies  not 
 in  its  external  conditions,  but  in  the  in- 
 ternal disposition  of  him  whom  it  visits. 
 The  cold,  impure  touch  of  a  serpent  is  one 
 thing  for  the  rough  skin  of  a  herdsman, 
 and  "another  for  the  delicate  feeling  of  a 
 young  child.  The  tempter's  attacks  are 
 not  the  same  when  directed  against  a 
 sinner  like  you  or  me,  as  those  same  at- 
 tacks when  aimed  against  "  the  Saint  of 
 saints."  If  we  account  it  a  terrible  thing 
 to  contend  with  the  spirit  of  darkness, 
 say,  what  must  it  have  been  for  the  Son  of 
 ^od  ?  Adolphe  Monod. 
 
 to  ensnare  me  by 
 world;  but  with  these  weapons,  broken  by 
 the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  the  Word  of  God, 
 he  could  not  prevail.  Now  he  has  attacked 
 me  in  another  way ;  the  cunning  serpent 
 has  laboured  to  persuade  me  that  I  have 
 merited  heaven  and  eternal  blessedness  by 
 the  faithful  discharge  of  my  ministry. 
 But  blessed  be  God,  who  has  enabled  me 
 to  beat  down  and  quench  this  fiery  dart." 
 M'Crie. 
 
 That  eminently  devoted  and  useful  minis- 
 ter, Rev.  J.  Smith,  passed  through  a  most 
 severe  temptation  from  the  powers  of  dark- 
 ness just  before  his  death. 
 
 Nor  must  we  forget  that  even  the  Holy 
 and  Blessed  Redeemer  walked  through  the 
 agony  of  the  garden — a  fearful  struggle 
 with'  the  prince  of  this  world— to  the 
 death  of  Calvary.  But  when  Satan  finds 
 "  nothing"  in  the  dying  saint,  as  he  found 
 nothing  in  the  Saviour,the  victory  is  as  sure 
 and  palpable.  John  Bale. 
 
83S 
 
 TEMPTATION  IN  DEATH— THANKSGIVING. 
 
 TEMPTATION  IN  DEATH. 
 
 As  the  poor  sheep  when  it  is  sick  and 
 weak,  and  can  hardly  help  itself,  now  the 
 crows  lie  picking  it ;  so,  when  a  saint  is 
 weak  on  his  deatli-bed,  now  the  devil  lies 
 picking  at  him  with  a  temptation  ;  he  re- 
 serves his  most  furious  assaults  to  the  last. 
 The  people  of  Israel  were  never  so  fiercely 
 assaulted  as  when  they  were  going  to  take 
 possession  of  the  promised  land  ;  then  all 
 the  kings  of  Canaan  combined  their  forces 
 against  them;  so,  when  the  saints  are 
 leaving  the  world,  and  going  to  set  their 
 foot  on  the  heavenly  Canaan,  now  Satan 
 sets  upon  them  by  temptation  ;  he  tells 
 them  they  are  hypocrites;  all  their  evidences 
 are  counterfeit.  Thus,  like  a  coward,  he 
 strikes  the  saints  when  they  are  down; 
 when  death  is  striking  at  the  body,  he  is 
 striking  at  the  soul.  T.  Watson. 
 
 TEMPTER— Subtlety  of  the. 
 
 As,  in  the  robbinc;  of  a  house,  it  is  the 
 custom  of  the  sturdiest  thieves  to  put  in  a 
 little  boy  at  a  window,  who,  being  once 
 within  the  house,  may  easily  open  the  doors 
 and  let  them  in  too ;  so  the  tempter,  in 
 riding  of  the  soul,  despairs  for  the  most 
 part  to  attempt  his  entrance  by  some  gross 
 sin  of  a  dismal,  frightful  hue  and  appear- 
 ance, and  therefore  he  employs  a  lesser, 
 that  may  creep  and  slide  into  it  insensibly, 
 — which  yet,  little  as  it  is,  will  soon  open 
 and  unlock  the  bars  of  conscience,  that  the 
 biggest  and  the  most  enormous  abomina- 
 tions shall  at  length  make  their  entrance, 
 and  seize  and  take  possession  of  it.     Anon. 
 
 TESTIMONY  AND  ARGUMENT. 
 
 Testimony  is  like  an  arrow  shot  from  a 
 long-bow;  the  force  of  it  depends  on  the 
 strength  of  the  hand  that  draws  it.  Argu- 
 ment is  like  an  arrow  from  a  cross-bow, 
 which  has  equal  force  though  shot  by  a 
 child.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 TI-IANKFULNESS— Reasons  for. 
 
 Plato,  looking  through  the  dim  spec- 
 tacles of  Nature,  gave  tiianks  unto  God  for 
 tliree  things : — First,  That  God  had  created 
 him  a  man,  and  not  a  beast ;  Secondly,  That 
 he  was  born  a  Grecian,  not  a  barbarian; 
 Thirdly,  That  not  only  so,  but  a  philoso- 
 pher also.  But  Christians,  that  are  better 
 bred  and  taught,  turn  the  stream  of  their 
 thanks  into  another  manner  of  channel : — 
 First,  that  God  hath  created  them  after 
 His  own  image ;  Secondly,  that  He  hath 
 called  them  out  of  the  common  crowd  of 
 this  world,  and  made  them  Christians ; 
 Thirdly,  and  more  especially,  that  amongst 
 those  that  bear  the  name  of  Christ,  He 
 hath  made  them  faithful  ones;  like  a 
 few  quick-sighted  men  amongst  a  company 
 of  blind  ones;  like  the  light  in  Goshen, 
 
 when  all  Egypt  was  dark  besides;  or,  like 
 Gideon's  fleece,  only  watered  with  the 
 dew  of  heaven,  whilst  the  rest  of  the  earth 
 was  dry  and  destitute  of  His  favour.  Great 
 cause  of  thankfulness  indeed  !        Spencer. 
 
 THANKFULNESS  AND  GRATITUDE. 
 
 Thankfulness,  or  a  fulness  of  thanks,  is 
 the  outward  e.xpression  of  a  grateful 
 feeling. 
 
 Gratitude,  from  the  Latin  gratitude,  is 
 the  feeling  itself  Our  thankfulness  is  mea- 
 sured by  the  number  of  our  words ;  our 
 gratitude  is  measured  by  the  nature  of  our 
 actions.  A  person  appears  very  thankful 
 at  the  time,  who  afterwards  proves  very 
 ungrateful.  Thankfulness  is  the  beginning 
 of  gratitude;  gratitude  is  the  completion 
 of  thankfulness.  G.  Crabb. 
 
 THANKFULNESS  AND  MURMURING. 
 Some  murmur  when  their  sky  is  clear 
 
 And  wholly  brought  to  view. 
 If  one  small  speck  of  dark  appear 
 
 In  their  great  heaven  of  blue; 
 And  some  with  thankful  love  are  filled 
 
 If  but  one  streak  of  light. 
 One  ray  of  God's  good  mercy,  gild 
 
 The  darkness  of  their  night. 
 
 In  palaces  are  hearts  that  ask, 
 
 In  discontent  and  pride. 
 Why  life  is  such  a  dreary  task 
 
 And  all  good  things  denied  ? 
 And  hearts  in  poorest  huts  admire 
 
 How  Love  has  in  their  aid 
 (Love  that  never  seems  to  tire) 
 
 Such  rich  provision  made. 
 
 Archbishop  Trench, 
 
 THANKSGIVING— Advantages  of. 
 
 Unspeakable  is  the  advantage  that  the 
 soul  raises  to  itself  by  this  continual  exer- 
 cise of  thanksgiving  ;  for  the  grateful  ac- 
 knowledgment of  favours  is  the  way  to 
 more.  Even  amongst  men  whose  hands 
 are  short  and  strait,  this  is  the  means  to 
 pull  on  further  beneficence ;  how  much 
 more  from  the  God  of  all  consolation, 
 whose  largest  bounty  diminisheth  nothing 
 of  His  store.  And  herein  the  devout  soul 
 enters  into  its  heavenly  task,  beginning 
 upon  earth  those  hallelujahs  which  it  shall 
 perfect  above,  in  the  blessed  choir  of  saints 
 and  angels,  ever  praising  God,  and  saying, 
 "  Blessing,  and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and 
 thanksgiving,  and  honour,  and  power,  and 
 miglit,  be  unto  our  God  for  ever  and  ever." 
 £p.  Mall. 
 THANKSGIVING— in  the  Heart. 
 
 As  flowers  carry  dewdrops,  trembling 
 on  the  edges  of  the  petals,  and  ready  to 
 fall  at  the  first  waft  of  wind  or  brush  of 
 bird,  so  the  heart  should  carry  its  beaded 
 words  of  thanksgiving ;  and  at  the  first 
 breath  of  heavenly  flavour,  let  down  the 
 
THEATRE— THEOLOGY. 
 
 shower,   perfumed  with  the  heart's  grati- 
 tude. H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 THEATRE— Excuse  for  the. 
 
 The  idea  wherewith  some  would  fain 
 excuse  their  sin  is  a  staple  managed  in 
 accordance  with  pure  morals.  It  is  a  vain 
 imagination.  Those  who  build  and  manage 
 theatres  do  so  with  the  view  of  a  good  in- 
 vestment and  profitable  employment.  They 
 know  the  taste  of  their  customers.  They 
 must  either  conform  to  these  tastes,  or 
 lose  money  by  opposing  them.  A  theatre 
 conducted  on  such  principles  as  would 
 make  it  safe  to  the  morals  of  youth  would 
 not  pay  its  proprietor.  There  are  many 
 enlightened  and  benevolent  citizens  who 
 rear  and  maintain  institutions  which  do 
 not  bear  their  own  charges.  They  submit 
 to  loss  f>om  zeal  for  the  public  good ;  but 
 these  men  never  choose  theatres  as  the 
 instrumeijts  of  elevating  the  community. 
 
 Arnot. 
 THEATRE— Immoral  Effects  of  the. 
 
 Although  it  is  said  of  plays  that  they 
 teach  morality,  and  of  the  stage  that  it  is 
 the  mirror  of  human  life,  these  assertions 
 are  mere  declamations,  and  have  no  foun- 
 dation in  truth  aud  experience,  One  parish 
 alone,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  place  I 
 am  now  speaking  of  (a  theatre"),  expended, 
 to  my  knowledge,  the  sum  of  £1300  in  pro- 
 secutions for  removing  inhabitants,  whom, 
 for  instruction  in  the  science  of  human 
 life,  the  playhouse  had  drawn  thither. 
 
 Sir  John  Hawkhis. 
 
 THEATRE— Moral  Dangers  of  the. 
 
 I  do  not  hesitate  for  a  moment  to  pro- 
 nounce the  theatre  to  be  one  of  the 
 broadest  avenues  that  lead  to  destruction  ; 
 fascinating,  no  doubt  it  is,  but  on  that 
 account  the  more  delusive  and  the  more 
 dangerous.  Let  a  young  man  once  acquire 
 a  taste  »for  this  species  of  entertainment, 
 and  yield  himself  up  to  its  gratification, 
 and  he  is  in  great  danger  of  becoming  a 
 lost  character,  rushing  upon  his  ruin.  All 
 the  evils  that  can  waste  his  property,  cor- 
 rupt his  morals,  blast  his  reputation,  im- 
 pair his  health,  embitter  his  life,  aud 
 destroy  his  soul,  lurk  in  the  purlieus  of  a 
 theatre.  Vice,  in  every  form,  lives,  and 
 moves,  and  has  its  being  there.  Myriads 
 have  cursed  the  hour  when  they  first  ex- 
 posed themselves  to  the  contamination  of 
 the  stage.  Light  and  darkness  are  not 
 more  opposed  to  each  other  than  the  Bible 
 and  the  play-book.  If  the  one  be  good, 
 the  other  must  be  evil.  If  the  Scriptures 
 are  to  be  obeyed,  the  theatre  must  be 
 avoided.  The  only  way  to  justify  the  stage, 
 as  it  is,  as  it  has  ever  been,  as  it  is  ever 
 likely  to  be,  is  to  condemn  the  Bible— 
 the  same  individual  cannot  defend  both. 
 
 Hannah  More. 
 
 THEOCRACY— Definition  of. 
 
 It  is  a  special  sovereignty  which  God  exer- 
 cises over  man  in  the  whole  compass  of  his 
 relations,  but  chiefly  in  his  nature — a  sove- 
 i-eignty  founded  in  grace,  andcarried  on  by  a 
 system  of  laws  and  agencies  which  denote 
 His  interposing  and  actuating  presence. 
 
 G.  Steward^ 
 THEOLOGY— Christian. 
 
 Like  as  the  seed,  one  in  itself,  yet  falls 
 into  two  halves  in  the  process  of  its  fruc- 
 tifying, or  as  the  one  force  of  the  magnet 
 manifests  itself  at  two  opposing  poles, 
 exactly  according  to  the  same  law,  reappear- 
 ing in  the  spiritual  world,  we  have  two 
 developments  of  the  same  Christian  theo- 
 logy, which  make  themselves  felt  from  the 
 very  first ;  whereof  St.  Paul  may  be  taken 
 as  the  chief  representative  of  the  one,  and 
 St.  John  of  the  other.  We  cannot  do  more 
 than  trace  the  distinction  in  some  of  its 
 broadest  features.  We  see,  then,  St.  Paul 
 making  man  the  starting-point  of  his  theo- 
 logy. The  Divine  image  in  man,  that 
 image  lost,  the  impossibility  of  its  restora- 
 tion by  any  powers  of  his  own  ;  the  ever 
 deeper  error  of  the  sin-darkened  intellect ; 
 the  ever  vainer  struggles  of  the  sin-enslaved 
 will ; — it  is  from  this  human  side  of  the 
 truth  that  he  starts  ;  these  are  the  grounds 
 which  he  first  lays, — as  eminently  in  his  great 
 dogmatic  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  And  only 
 when  he  has  brought  out  this  confession  of  a 
 fall,  of  an  infinite  shortcoming  from  the  true 
 ideal  of  humanity,  and  from  the  glory  of  God, 
 only  when  the  cry,  "Oh,  wretched  man  that  I 
 am,  who  shall  deliver  me  ?"  has  been  wrung 
 out  from  the  bond-slaves  of  evil,  does  he 
 bring  in  the  mighty  Redeemer,  and  the 
 hymn  of  praise,  the  "  I  thank  God  through 
 .Jesus  Christ "  of  the  redeemed.  But  St. 
 John,  upon  the  other  hand,  starts  from  the 
 opposite  point,  from  the  theology  in  the 
 more  restricted  sense  of  the  word ;  in 
 this  justifying  the  title  6  Qio\oybq,  which 
 He  bears.  His  centre  and  starting-point 
 is  the  Divine  Love,  and  out  of  that  he 
 unfolds  all  ;  not  delineating,  as  his  brother 
 Apostle,  any  mighty  birth-pangs  in  which 
 the  new  creature  is  born ;  since  rather  in 
 that  passing  from  death  unto  life  and  in 
 that  abiding  in  the  Father  and  in  the  Son 
 which  follows  therefrom,  the  discovery  of 
 sin  does  not  run  before,  but  rather  goes 
 hand  in  hand  with,  the  discovery  of  the 
 grace  of  God  for  forgiving,  and  the  power 
 of  God  for  overcoming,  that  sin  which  by 
 the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  gradually  revealed. 
 Thus  we  have  man  delivered  in  St.  Paul, 
 God  delivering  in  St.  John  ;  man  rising  in 
 the  one,  God  stooping  in  the  other ;  and 
 thus  each  travels  over  an  hemisphere  in 
 the  great  orb  of  Christian  truth,  and  they, 
 not  each  singly,  but  between  them,  embrace 
 uud  encircle  it  all.  Archbishop  Trench. 
 
810 
 
 THEOLOGY  AHI)  PHILOSOPHY— THINGS  THAT  NEVER  DIE. 
 
 THEOLOGY  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 Theology  and  philosopliy  have  heen  en- 
 tirely separated  by  most  divines,  and  some 
 have  attempted  an  awkward  association  of 
 them ;  they  joined  them  without  producing 
 unity  or  union.  All  the  emanations  of 
 both  ought  to  converge  to  one  focus ;  and 
 thence,  combined  and  identified,  dart  for- 
 ward, a  living  beam  of  light  in  infinitum. 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 THEOLOGY  AND  RELIGION— Difference 
 between. 
 There  has  of  late  been  a  good  deal  of 
 what  seems  to  me  frivolous  and  profitless 
 discussion  as  to  the  difference  between 
 religion  and  theology.  Now,  really,  the 
 difference  is  but  small.  It  amounts,  I 
 think,  to  no  more  than  this :  that  the 
 word  religion  is  used  in  two  senses,  and 
 theology  in  one  only.  Religion  is  either 
 objective  or  subjective ;  that  is,  we  have 
 religion  in  the  book,  and  i-eligion  in  the 
 person.  We  speak  of  the  Christian  reli- 
 gion, meaning  the  doctrines  and  precepts 
 of  Christianity ;  and  we  speak  of  a  man's 
 religion,  meaning  the  faith  and  the  influ- 
 ence of  those  doctrines,  manifested  in  con- 
 formity to  those  precepts.  This  is  a  sense 
 in  which  we  never  use  the  term  theology. 
 It  is  always  objective.  We  may,  indeed, 
 speak  of  a  man's  theology,  meaning  by  it, 
 however,  those  views  of  theological  doc- 
 trine he  professes  to  hold.  We  never  mean 
 by  it,  as  we  generally  do  when  we  speak 
 of  a  man's  refigion,  the  influence  of  what 
 he  professes,  as  felt  and  exemplified  by 
 him.  Keeping  such  distinctions  in  mind, 
 we  might  say  that  theology  is  objective 
 religion,  and  that  religion  is  subjective 
 theology.  Dr.  E.  Wardlaw. 
 
 THEORY  AND  PRACTICE. 
 
 One  clear  frosty  morning  an  eminent 
 Cambridge  Don  famous  for  encyclopedic 
 information  accompanied  some  of  his 
 young  friends  to  the  ice,  and  in  going 
 talked  to  them  with  such  science  about 
 skating  that  they  expected  from  him  mar- 
 vellous feats  of  clever  gyration.  To  their 
 surprise  his  skill  proved  to  be  but  small, 
 and  his  tumbles  woful.  "Doctor,"  at  length 
 cried  one,  as  he  lifted  the  fallen  pro- 
 fessor, "  how  is  this  ?"  "  Easily  ex- 
 plained, easily  explained,"  was  the  ready 
 reply.  "  I,  you  see,  am  up  in  theory,  but 
 down  in  practice."  S.  Coley. 
 
 THINGS  INDIFFERENT— Definition  of. 
 
 Things  indift'erent  are  such  as  in  their 
 own  nature  are  neither  good  nor  evil, 
 which  may  be  used  or  not  used  without 
 sin,  and  consequently  are  either  good  or 
 evil,  upon  the  account  of  some  circum- 
 stances in  the  using  of  them.     Whatever 
 
 then  is  commanded  or  forbidden  cannot 
 be  reckoned  as  indifferent ;  but  those  things 
 are  only  so  which  are  either  expressly 
 allowed  of,  or  nowhere  prohibited  by  God; 
 of  which  nature  are  several  external  thin  j;s 
 relating  to  meats,  drinks,  raiment,  and  the 
 actions  of  a  civil  life.  Limhorch. 
 
 THINGS— ReaL 
 
 The  things  of  this  life  have  a  kind  of 
 reality.  Riches  are  in  some  sort  riches, 
 and  beauty  is  in  some  sort  beauty,  and 
 nobility  is  in  some  sort  nobility,  and  so 
 possessions  are  in  some  sort  possessions. 
 But  all  this  is  but  a  pageant,  as  it  were  : 
 as  a  man  that  acts  in  a  pageant  or  a  play, 
 he  is  in  some  sort  a  king  or  a  beggar  for 
 the  time.  But  we  value  him,  not  as  he  is 
 then,  but  as  he  is  when  off  the  stage.  And 
 while  we  live  here  we  act  the  part,  some 
 of  a  rich  man,  some  of  a  nobleman,  some 
 of  a  beggar  or  a  poor  man — all  is' but  act- 
 ing of  a  part.  And  therefore,  considering 
 that  this  world  is  but  an  apparition,  but 
 the  acting  of  a  part,  why  should  we  think 
 ourselves  the  better  for  anything  here  ? 
 Doth  he  that  acts  the  part  of  a  nobleman 
 upon  a  stage  think  himself  better  than 
 another  that  acts  the  part  of  a  poor  man  ? 
 No;  he  knows  that  he  shall  go  oft"  in  a 
 short  time,  and  then  he  shall  be  as  he  was 
 before.  Why  are  we  not  thus  wise  in 
 better  things?  It  is  not  he  that  acts  the 
 greatest  part,  but  he  that  acts  any  part 
 best.  So  it  is  no  matter  what  a  man  acts. 
 If  he  do  it  well,  he  is  for  ever  happy  ;  if 
 he  do  it  ill,  he  is  for  ever  miserable  ;  all 
 here  is  but  a  pageant.  If  you  talk  of 
 reality,  it  is  in  the  things  of  religion.  If 
 you  talk  of  true  nobility,  it  is  to  be  a  child 
 of  Gud.  If  you  talk  of  true  riches,  they 
 are  those  that  we  carry  to  our  death-bed; 
 those  that  we  carry  to  heaven  ;  those  that 
 comfort  the  soul;  those  that  enrich  the 
 soul  with  grace,  and  comfort,  and'peace ; 
 that  is  true  riches.  If  you  talk  of  true 
 beauty,  it  is  to  have  the  image  of  God 
 stamped  upon  our  souls,  to  be  like  Christ, 
 to  be  new  creatures.  If  we  talk  of  true 
 strength,  it  is  to  stand  against  tempta- 
 tions, to  be  able  to  serve  God,  and  to  go 
 through  the  world  without  polluting  our 
 souls,  to  bear  crosses  as  we  should ;  that 
 is  the  true  reality.  The  things  of  this  life 
 are  all  but  apparitions  and  pageants. 
 
 Sibles. 
 
 THINGS  THAT  NEVER  DIE. 
 
 The  pure,  the  bright,  the  beautiful. 
 
 That  stirred  our  hearts  in  youth. 
 The  impulse  to  a  wordless  prayer. 
 
 The  dreams  of  love  and  truth  ; 
 The  longings  after  something  lost, 
 
 The  spirit's  yearning  cry. 
 The  strivings  after  better  hopes— 
 
 These  things  can  never  die. 
 
THINK— THOUGHTS. 
 
 811 
 
 The  timid  hand  stretched  forth  to  aid 
 
 A  brotlier  in  his  need, 
 The  kindly  word  in  grief's  dark  hour 
 
 That  proves  a  friend  indeed, — 
 The  plea  for  mercy,  softly  breathed. 
 
 When  justice  threatens  high, 
 The  sorrow  of  a  contrite  heart — 
 
 These  things  shall  never  die. 
 
 The  memory  of  a  c]as])ing  hand, 
 
 The  pressure  of  a  kiss. 
 And  all  the  trifles,  sweet  and  frail, 
 
 That  make  up  love's  first  bliss ; 
 If  with  a  firm,  unchanging  faith. 
 
 And  holy  trust  aud  high,  [met. 
 
 Those  hands  have  clasped,  those  lips  have 
 
 These  things  shall  never  die. 
 
 The  cruel  and  the  bitter  word, 
 
 That  wounded  as  it  fell ; 
 The  chilling  want  of  sympathy 
 
 We  feel  but  never  tell ; 
 The  hard  repulse,  that  chills  the  heart 
 
 Whose  hopes  were  bounding  high — 
 In  an  unfading  record  kept — 
 
 These  things  shall  never  die. 
 
 Let  nothing  pass,  for  every  hand 
 
 Must  find  some  work  to  do ; 
 Lose  not  a  chance  to  waken  love — • 
 
 Be  firm,  and  just,  and  true. 
 So  shall  a  light  that  cannot  fade 
 
 Beam  on  thee  from  on  high. 
 And  angel  voices  say  to  thee — 
 
 These  things  shall  never  die. 
 
 Dickens. 
 
 THINK— What  it  is  to. 
 
 We  might  suppose  that  nothing  was  so 
 easy  as  to  think.  What  is  it  ?  It  requires 
 not  to  move  hand  or  foot,  but  to  sit  still 
 and  ponder.  It  appears  as  if  it  needed 
 but  to  let  the  brain  work,  and  let  memory 
 observe  and  register  the  result.  Certainly, 
 ever  and  ever  without  ceasing,  perceptions 
 are  passing  through  the  brain,  and  con- 
 sciousness is,  without  interruption,  taking 
 impressions  from  the  senses, — but  to  ar- 
 range aud  concentrate  these  so  as  to  ex- 
 tract an  import  from  them  for  judgment 
 and  the  reason,  this  is  the  hardest  task  that 
 man  can  undertake,  and  it  is  the  one  of  all 
 others  he  would  avoid.  He  would,  in  gene- 
 ral, dig  or  break  stones  rather  than  do  it. 
 S.  Giles. 
 
 THINKING— Pleasures  of. 
 
 How  vastly  disproportionate  are  the 
 pleasures  of  the  eating  and  of  the  thinking 
 man  !  Indeed  as  difierent  as  the  silence  of 
 an  Archimedes  in  the  study  of  a  problem, 
 and  the  stillness  of  a  sow  at  her  wash. 
 Nothing  is  comparable  to  the  pleasure 
 of  an  active  and  prevailing  thought — a 
 thought  prevailing  over  the  difficulty  and 
 obscurity  of  the  object,  and  refreshing  the 
 soul  with  new  discoveries  and  images  of 
 things  ;  and  thereby  extending  the  bounds 
 
 of  apprehension,  and  (as  it  were")  enlarging 
 the  territories  of  reason.  Hr.  South. 
 
 THOUGHT— Immortality  of. 
 
 It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  persons  who 
 have  been  rescued  from  drowning  have  had 
 the  most  wonderful  activity  and  power 
 given  to  their  memories  just  before  they 
 became  insensible ;  so  that  in  a  moment  of 
 time  their  whole  lives  have  been  photo- 
 graphed, as  it  were,  and  held  up  before 
 them.  They  have  lived  over  years  of  time 
 in  a  single  moment.  Every  one  can  recall 
 periods  when  a  measure  of  the  same  activity 
 has  been  given  to  memory,  and  when  the 
 leaves  of  the  past  have  been  unfolded  with 
 a  rapidity  scarcely  before  conceived  of,  and 
 when  revelations  have  been  made  of  what 
 seemed  buried  in  oblivion,  so  utterly  had  it 
 passed  away  from  the  mind.  Some  simple 
 association,  a  familiar  voice,  a  strain  of 
 music,  an  incident  recalled,  or  even  a  state 
 of  mind,  is  sufficient  to  vivify  the  dead 
 past. 
 
 The  extent  to  which  the  memory  is 
 capable  of  recalling  the  past,  even  when  it 
 seemed  utterly  forgotten,  is  illustrated  by 
 many  a  curious  chapter  of  facts.  One  of 
 the  most  striking  is  that  of  an  illiterate 
 servant  girl,  who,  in  the  delirium  of  a 
 fever,  astonished  all  who  were  about  her 
 by  repeating  long  passages  from  Greek  and 
 Latin  authors,  with  which  it  was  well 
 known  she  had  no  ordinary  acquaintance. 
 The  mystery  was  solved  by  learning  that 
 she  had  once  been  at  service  in  the  family 
 of  a  learned  clergyman,  who  was  in  the 
 habit  of  reading  aloud  fi-om  his  favorite 
 authors,  portions  of  which  she  had  heard, 
 but  without  any  knowledge  of  the  meaning 
 of  what  she  heard.  The  mere  sound  of  the 
 words  had  so  impressed  itself  upon  her 
 memory,  that  the  delirium  of  the  fever, 
 like  the  chemicals  applied  to  the  daguerre- 
 otype plate,  brought  out  the  impression 
 as  distinct  and  clear  as  at  first. 
 
 Thornton. 
 
 THOUGHT— Man  of. 
 
 The  man  of  thought  strikes  deepest,  and 
 
 strikes  safely. 
 
 Savarje. 
 
 THOUGHT— Overflowing. 
 
 Constant  thought  will  overflow  in  words 
 unconsciously.  Lord  Bi/ron. 
 
 THOUGHTS — Company  in. 
 
 The  man  who  has  learnt  to  think  well 
 and  rightly  never  need  be  alone,  for  he 
 can  people  solitude,  and  cheer  the  dreari- 
 ness of  night  with  bright  and  pure  thoughts. 
 He  may  languish  innocently  in  the  dun- 
 geon, whither  the  tyrant's  hand  has  thrust 
 him,  or  he  may  be  stretched  on  his  restless 
 couch  in  the  hospital,  or  he  may  lie  ema- 
 ciated ou  his  pallet  of  straw  in  his  lonely 
 
812 
 
 THOUGHTS. 
 
 garret;  but  alone  he  cannot  be,  for  holy 
 and  happy  thoughts,  like  angels  of  mercy, 
 flit  too  and  fro  before  his  mental  vision, 
 and  become  his  joyful  companions. 
 
 E.  Roberts. 
 
 THOUGHTS— Grandeur  of. 
 
 It  is  a  grand  thing  when,  in  the  stillness 
 of  the  soul,  thought  bursts  into  flame,  and 
 the  intuitive  vision  comes  like  inspiration; 
 when  breathing  thoughts  clothe  themselves 
 in  burning  words,  winged  as  it  were  with 
 lightning — or  when  a  great  law  of  the 
 universe  reveals  itself  to  the  mind  of  Ge- 
 nius, and  where  all  was  darkness,  his  single 
 word  bids  Light  he,  and  all  is  Order  where 
 chaos  and  confusion  were.  Or  when  the 
 truths  of  human  nnture  shape  themselves 
 forth  in  the  creative  fancies  of  one  like 
 the  million-minded  poet,  and  yon  recog- 
 nise the  rare  power  of  heart  which  sympa- 
 tliises  with,  and  can  reproduce  all  that  is 
 found  in  man.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 THOUGHTS-Influence  of. 
 
 The  effect,  or  the  influence,  of  thoughts 
 may  be  imagined,  but  never  calculated. 
 Each  benevolent  institution,  now  the  glory 
 of  our  country,  may  be  traced  to  one 
 thought,  or  the  thinkings  of  one  indivi- 
 dual. Two  illustrations  may  sufiice.  The 
 "  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,"  to 
 the  thought  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Charles,  of 
 B:ila;  the  "Anti- Slavery  Society,"  to  the 
 thought  of  Thomas  Clarkson,  Esq.  The 
 same  principle  of  influence  is  applicable  to 
 other  institutions.  That  eminent  persons 
 have  been  raised  up  to  fill  important  and 
 extensive  spheres  of  usefulness,  may  be 
 traced  to  the  thinkiug  of  some  individual, 
 or  to  one  thought.  An  affectionate  sister 
 expressed  her  solicitude  for  the  salvation 
 of  a  brother;  and  Persia  receives  the 
 word  of  Christ,  in  its  own  language,  from 
 the  hands  of  a  Henry  Martyn.  A  sermon 
 thought  at  Basingstoke,  Hants,  was  the 
 means  of  extensive  blessing  on  the  coast  of 
 South  America,  in  bringing  out  John 
 Smith,  the  martyred  missionary  of  Deme- 
 rara.  The  pious  conversation,  the  thoughts 
 of  anxiety  for  the  salvation  of  a  young 
 man,  expressed  in  the  Tabernacle  Yard  of 
 the  metropolis,  have  reverberated  over 
 the  Pacific,  by  raising  up  the  heroic  and 
 sainted  John  Williams  for  the  South  Sea 
 Islands.  And  the  intrepid,  the  devoted, 
 and  enterprising  Moffat,  caught  his  mis- 
 sionary inspiration  (instrumentally)  from  a 
 thought  suggested  by  seeing  a  placard 
 announcing  a  missionin-y  meeting.  Dr. 
 Philip  for  Africa,  Dr.  Morrison  for  China, 
 and  others,  furnish  ample  and  forcible  il- 
 lustrations of  the  principle,  the  influence 
 of  thoughts  on  the  minds  and  characters 
 of  others.  Many  others  might  be  added, 
 showing — 
 
 "  That  a  small  drop  of  ink 
 Falling,  like  dew  upon  a  thought,  produces 
 That   which   makes   thousands,   aye,    and 
 millions  think."  Dr.  Hewlett. 
 
 THOUGHTS— Known  to  God. 
 
 The  thoughts  of  a  man's  heart,  what 
 millions  are  there  of  them  in  a  day !  The 
 twinkling  of  the  eye  is  not  so  sudden  a 
 thing  as  the  thinking  of  a  thought;  yet 
 those  thousands  and  thousands  of  thoughts 
 which  pass  from  thee,  that  thou  canst  not 
 reckon,  they  are  all  known  to  God.  Ps. 
 cxxxix,  2,  "Thou  knowest  my  down- 
 sitting  and  uprising,  thou  understandest 
 my  thoughts  afar  oft";"  that  is,  God, 
 though  afar  off  in  the  heavens,  so  that  we 
 would  think  He  did  not  take  notice  of  what 
 is  done  in  earth,  yet  He  so  far  understands 
 all  things,  that  our  very  thoughts  are 
 known  to  Him,  or  else  our  thoughts,  while 
 tliey  are  afar  off,  before  they  come  to  be 
 expressly  conceived  and  formed,  while  they 
 are  in  the  chaos  in  the  confused  womb  of 
 the  soul,  God  knoweth  them.  He  knoweth 
 what  we  will  think,  before  we  do  think. 
 Surely  this  shoidd  refrain  men,  not  only 
 from  sinful  lives,  but  also  sinful  thoughts. 
 Anthony  Burgess, 
 
 THOUGHTS— Latent. 
 
 Oh,  there  are  thoughts 
 That  slumber  in   the  soul,  like   sweetest 
 
 sounds, 
 Amid  the  harp's  loose  strings,  till  airs  from 
 
 heaven, 
 On  earth  at  dewy  nightfall  visitant, 
 Awake  the  sleeping  melody.  Wilson. 
 
 THOUGHTS— Vain. 
 
 One  of  the  besetting  evils  of  the  present 
 day  is  the  indulgence  in  trifling,  useless, 
 vain,  and  volatile  thoughts.  These  must 
 be  distinguished  from  thoughts  that  are 
 positively  vicious,  polluted,  and  impious. 
 They  are  nevertheless  very  injurious,  and 
 when  habitually  indulged  in,  exert  a  bane- 
 ful influence  on  the  character.  Books  of 
 travel  inform  us,  that  in  hotter  climates 
 the  locusts  swarm  so  thickly  in  the  air,  as 
 sometimes  to  hide  from  the  traveller  the 
 light  of  the  sun,  and  cast  a  dark  and  cold 
 shadow  on  his  pathway.  So  is  it  in  the 
 world  of  mind.  Swarms  of  vain  thoughts 
 are  ever  floating  over  some  minds,  inter- 
 cepting the  beams  of  truth  from  falling 
 on  the  heart,  and  thus  keeping  that  heart 
 barren  of  all  virtue  and  goodness.  Or, 
 like  a  set  of  evil  birds  falling  on  the  newly 
 sown  field,  these  winged  wanderers  of 
 thought  fall  on  the  heart,  and  pick  up 
 many  a  precious  seed  sown  by  the  hand  of 
 the  great  husbandman,  and  which,  other- 
 wise, would  have  brought  forth  much  fruit. 
 If  we  would  avoid  the  evil,  we  must,  like 
 the    farmer,   set    up   something   to   scare 
 
THOUGHTS -TIME. 
 
 843 
 
 these  flitting:  spirits  awny.  Nothing  can 
 do  this  so  eiiectuully  as  the  presence  of 
 nobler  and  better  thoughts.       JB.  Roberts. 
 
 THOUGHTS  (Bad)— Preventive  of. 
 
 Would  you  prevent  bad  thoughts  coming 
 into  the  mind,  keep  yonr  mind  constantly 
 occupied  with  good  thoughts.  It  is  the 
 empty  house  that  accumulates  dust,  cob- 
 webs, and  vermin  in  its  rooms ;  that  falls 
 into  desolation  and  ruin.  So  it  is  the  mind 
 unoccupied  that  Satan  enters  into  and  sug- 
 gests thought  after  thought  until  evil 
 thoughts  take  full  and  authorised  posses- 
 sion. Keep  your  mind  engaged  in  good 
 thoughts,  and  bad  shall  find  no  entrance. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 THREATENINGS— Love  in  the. 
 
 A  shepherd,  foreseeing  a  snow-storm 
 that  will  drift  deep  in  the  hollows  of  the 
 hill,  where  the  silly  sheep  seeking  refuge 
 would  find  a  grave,  prepares  shelter  in  a 
 safe  spot,  and  opens  its  door.  Then  he 
 sends  his  dog  after  the  wandering  iiock 
 to  frighten  them  into  the  fold.  The  bark 
 of  tlie  dog  behind  them  is  a  terror  to  the 
 timid  sheep ;  but  it  is  at  once  the  sui  e 
 means  of  their  safety  and  the  mark  of  the 
 shepherd's  care.  Without  it  the  prepared 
 fold  and  the  open  entrance  might  have 
 proved  of  no  avail.  The  terror  which  the 
 shepherd  sent  into  the  flock  gave  the 
 finishing  touch  to  his  tender  care  and  effect 
 to  all  that  had  gone  before.  Such,  jire- 
 cisely,  in  design  and  effect  are  the  terrible 
 things  of  God's  Word;  not  one  of  them 
 indicates  that  He  is  unwilling  to  receive 
 sinners.  They  are  the  overflowings  of 
 Divine  compassion.  They  are  sent  by  the 
 Gdod  Shepherd  to  surround  triflers  on  the 
 brink  of  perdition,  and  compel  them  to 
 Clime  into  the  provided  refuge  ere  its  door 
 be  shut.  The  terrors  of  the  Lord  are  not 
 the  salvation  of  men;  but  they  have 
 driven  many  to  the  Saviour.  No  part  of 
 the  Bible  could  be  wanted ;  a  man  shall 
 live  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of 
 the  mouth  of  God.  Aniot. 
 
 TIME— Conduct  of. 
 
 Time  is  like  a  fashionable  host, 
 That  slightly  shakes  his  parting  guest  by 
 
 the  hand; 
 And   with   his   arms   outstretched,  as   he 
 
 would  fly, 
 Gras]is  in  the  comer :  Welcome  ever  smiles. 
 And  farewell  goes  out  sighing. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 TIME— Definitions  of. 
 
 Time  is  the  measure  of  motion,  or  dura- 
 tion of  things  upon  earth.  Scruggs. 
 
 Time  is  the  chrysalis  of  eternity. 
 
 TIME— Definition  of. 
 
 Time  is  a  continual  over-dropping  of 
 moments,  which  fall  down  one  upon  the 
 other,  and  evaporate.  Richter. 
 
 TIME— Economy  of. 
 
 How  many  minutes  have  you  to  spare? 
 Five,  ten,  fifteen  ?  Much  may  be  done 
 with  them ;  we  have  heard  of  a  young 
 man  who  perused  a  History  of  England 
 while  waiting  for  his  meals  in  a  boarding- 
 house  ;  we  have  heard  of  a  mathematician 
 who  is  said  to  have  composed  an  elaborate 
 work  when  visiting  with  his  wife,  dui-ing 
 the  interval  between  the  moment  when 
 she  first  started  to  take  leave  of  their 
 friends,  and  the  moment  she  had  finished 
 her  last  words.  "  The  small  stones  which 
 fill  up  the  crevices  have  almost  as  much  to 
 do  with  making  the  fair  and  firm  wall  as 
 the  great  rocks ;  so  the  right  and  wise  use 
 of  spare  moments  contributes  not  a  little 
 to  the  building  up  in  good  proportions,  and 
 with  strength,  a  man's  mind." 
 
 E.  P.  Hood. 
 
 TIME— Employment  of. 
 
 "  We  all  com])lain,"  says  the  philosopher 
 Seneca,  "  of  the  shortness  of  time  ;  and  yet 
 we  have  more  than  we  know  what  to  do 
 with.  Our  lives  are  spent  either  in  doing 
 nothing  at  all,  or  in  doing  nothing  to  the 
 purpose,  or  in  doing  nothing  that  we  ought 
 to  do.  We  are  always  complaining  that 
 our  days  are  few,  and  acting  as  though 
 there  would  be  no  end  of  them." 
 
 Alfred  the  great  was  one  of  the  wisest, 
 the  best,  and  most  beneficent  monarchs 
 that  ever  swayed  the  scejitre  of  this  reahn  ; 
 and  his  example  is  highly  memorable. 
 Every  hour  of  his  life  had  its  peculiar 
 allotted  business.  He  divided  the  day  and 
 night  into  three  portions  of  eight  hours 
 each;  and  though  much  afflicted  with  a 
 very  painful  disorder,  he  assigned  only 
 eight  hours  to  sleep,  meals,  and  exercise ; 
 devoting  the  remaining  sixteen,  one  half 
 to  reading,  writing,  and  prayer,  and  the 
 other  to  public  business.  So  sensible  was 
 this  great  man  that  time  was  not  a  trifle 
 to  be  dissipated,  but  a  rich  talent  entrusted 
 to  him,  for  which  he  was  accountable  to  the 
 great  Dispenser  of  it !  . 
 
 We  are  told  by  historians  that  Queen 
 Elizabeth,  except  when  engaged  by  public 
 or  domestic  affairs,  and  the  exercises  neces- 
 sary for  the  preservation  of  her  health  and 
 spirits,  was  always  employed  either  in  read- 
 ing or  writing;  in  translating  from  other 
 authors,  or  in  compositions  of  her  own. 
 
 Gassendi,  the  celebrated  philosopher, 
 was  perhaps  one  of  the  hardest  students 
 that  ever  existed.  He  generally  rose  at 
 three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  rend  or 
 wrote  till  eleven,  when  he  received  the 
 
814 
 
 TIME. 
 
 visits  of  his  friends.  He  afterwards  at 
 twelve  made  a  very  slender  dinner,  at 
 which  he  drank  nothing  but  water,  and 
 sat  down  to  his  books  again  at  three. 
 There  he  remained  till  eight  o'clock ;  and 
 after  having  eaten  a  very  light  supper,  he 
 retired  to  bed  at  ten. 
 
 Among  the  ancient  Indians  there  were  a 
 set  of  men  called  gymnosophists,  who  had  a 
 great  aversion  to  sloth  and  idleness.  When 
 the  tables  were  spread  for  their  repasts, 
 the  assembling  youths  were  asked  by  their 
 masters  in  what  useful  task  they  had  been 
 employed  from  the  hour  of  sunrise.  One, 
 perhaps,  represented  himself  as  having  been 
 an  arbitrator,  and  succeeded  by  his  prudent 
 management  in  composing  a  difference  be- 
 tween friends.  A  second  had  been  paying 
 obedience  to  his  parent's  commands.  A 
 third  had  made  some  discovery  by  his 
 own  application,  or  learned  something  by 
 another's  instruction.  But  he  who  had 
 done  nothing  to  deserve  a  dinner  was 
 turned  out  of  doors  without  one,  and 
 obliged  to  work  while  the  others  enjoyed 
 the  fruits  of  their  application. 
 
 Knowles. 
 
 Time  is  like  a  ship  which  never  anchors ; 
 while  I  am  on  board,  I  had  better  do  those 
 tilings  that  may  profit  nie  at  my  landing, 
 than  practise  such  as  shall  cause  my  com- 
 mitment when  I  come  ashore. 
 
 FeWiam. 
 
 TIME— Finding. 
 
 A  professional  gentleman  of  rare  attain- 
 ments, and  one  who  added  to  the  laborious 
 duties  of  his  calling  a  great  variety  of 
 learning,  much  scientific  research,  and 
 many  elegant  accomplishments,  was  asked 
 by  a  young  lady  how  he  found  time  for 
 ail  he  did.  He  replied,  "  There  is  one  rule 
 which  I  have  found  of  great  use,  and 
 therefore  I'ecommend  it  to  you ;  that  is, 
 always  to  do  small  things,  such  as  writing 
 a  letter,  cojiying  out  some  short  piece, 
 making  a  sketch,  reading  a  review,  &c., 
 in  small  portions  of  time,  and  to  i-eserve  a 
 whole  day  of  leisure  for  some  long  and  im- 
 portant aH"air.  Never  use  up  a  rainy  morn- 
 ing in  doing  a  variety  of  little  jobs,  and 
 think  because  you  despatch  a  great  many 
 that^ou  have  well  bestowed  your  time; 
 leave  small  alfiiirs  for  odd  half-hours;  use 
 your  uninterrupted  morning  for  something 
 that  cannot  be  done  in  half-hours.  You 
 have  sometimes  wondered  at  my  having 
 time  to  correspond  with  so  many  absent 
 friends,  but  all  my  letters  of  friendship  are 
 written  in  odd  minutes,  while  I  am  waiting 
 for  peo^ile  who  are  not  so  punctual  to  their 
 appointments  as  I  am."  Statn^p. 
 
 TIME— Flight  of. 
 
 When  young,  our  years  are   ages;   in 
 
 mature  life  they  are  three  hundred  and 
 sixty-five  days;  in  old  age  they  have 
 dwindled  to  a  few  weeks.  Time  is,  in- 
 deed, the  messenger  with  wings  at  his  feet. 
 Yesterday  he  took  my  w.fe,  to-day  my  son, 
 to-morrow  he  will  take  me. 
 
 Madame  de  Gasparin. 
 
 When  the  famous  Baron  de  Trench  came 
 out  of  his  dark  dungeon,  in  Magdeburg, 
 where  he  could  not  distinguish  night  from 
 day,  and  in  which  the  King  of  Prussia  had 
 kept  him  imprisoned  for  ten  years,  he 
 imagined  that  he  had  been  in  it  for  a 
 much  shorter  period,  because  he  had  no 
 means  of  marking  how  the  time  had  passed, 
 and  he  had  seen  no  new  events,  and  had 
 had  even  few  thoughts — his  astonishment 
 was  extreme  when  he  was  told  how  many 
 years  had  thus  passed  away  like  a  painful 
 dream.  Frof.  L.  Gaussen. 
 
 TIME— Fragments  of. 
 
 As  in  money,  so  in  time,  we  are  to  look 
 chiefly  to  the  smallest  portions.  Take  care 
 of  the  pence,  and  the  pounds  will  take  cave 
 of  themselves.  Take  care  of  the  minutes, 
 and  the  hours  and  years  will  take  care  of 
 themselves.  Gold  is  not  found  in  Cali- 
 fornia for  the  most  in  great  masses,  but  in 
 little  grains.  It  is  sifted  out  oi  the  sand 
 in  minute  particles,  which,  melted  together, 
 produce  the  rich  ingots  that  excite  the 
 world's  cupidity.  So  the  spare  pieces  of 
 time,  the  shreds,  the  odds  and  ends  of 
 time  put  together,  may  form  a  very  great 
 and  beautiful  work.  Hale  wrote  his  '  Con- 
 templations' when  on  his  circuits.  Dr. 
 Mason  Good  translated  Lucretius  in  his 
 carriage,  while,  as  a  physician,  he  rode 
 from  door  to  door.  One  of  the  chancellors 
 of  France  penned  a  bulky  volume  in  the 
 successive  intervals  of  daily  waiting  for 
 dinner.  Doddridge  wrote  his  'Exposition* 
 chiefly  before  breakfast.  Kirke  White 
 studied  Greek,  went  over  the  nouns  and 
 verbs,  as  he  was  going  to  and  from  a  law- 
 yer's  office.  Burney  learned  French  and 
 Italian  while  riding  on  horseback.  Frank- 
 liu  laid  the  foundation  of  his  wonderful 
 stock  of  knowledge  in  his  dinner  hours 
 and  evenings,  while  working  as  a  printer's 
 boy.  In  the  Palace  of  Industry  there  were 
 several  curious  specimens  of  art,  wrought 
 by  humble  individuals  out  of  such  frag- 
 ments of  time  as  they  could  secure  froni 
 their  regular  occupations.  Oh,  the  precious- 
 ness  of  moments !  no  gold  or  gems  can  be 
 compared  to  them.  Yet  all  have  them ; 
 while  some  are  thereby  enriched  and  others 
 leave  themselves  in  poverty.  The  wealth 
 of  time  is  like  gold  in  the  mine — like  the 
 gem  in  the  pebble — like  the  diamond  in 
 the  deep.  The  mine  must  be  worked;  the 
 pebble  ground  and  polished — the  dcciJ 
 fathomed  and  searched.  J.  Stougldon. 
 
TIME. 
 
 845 
 
 TIME — Improvement  of. 
 
 Boyle  remarks  "that  sand-grains  are 
 eaily  scattered,  but  skilful  artificers  gather, 
 jsielt,  and  transmute  them  to  glass,  of  which 
 they  make  mirrors,  lenses,  and  telescopes. 
 Even  so  vigilant  Christians  improve  paren- 
 thetic fi'agments  of  time,  employing  them 
 in  self-examination,  acts  of  faith,  and  re- 
 searches of  holy  truth ;  by  which  they 
 became  looking-glasses  for  their  souls,  and 
 telescopes  revealing  their  promised  heaven." 
 Jewellers  save  the  very  sweepings  of  their 
 shops  because  they  contain  particles  of 
 precious  metal.  Should  Christians,  whose 
 every  moment  was  purchased  for  them  by 
 the  blood  of  Christ,  be  less  careful  of  time  ? 
 Surely  its  very  minutise  should  be  more 
 treasured  than  grains  of  gold  or  dust  of 
 diamonds.  S.  Coley. 
 
 Tlie  man  who  would  excel  must  be  judi. 
 cious  in  the  allotment  and  diligent  in  the 
 improvement  of  his  time.  It  was  a  maxim 
 or'  the  Latins,  that  "no  one  reached  the 
 summit  of  honour,  unless  he  prudently 
 used  his  time."  This  prudent  use  of  time, 
 rather  than  any  extraordinary  natural 
 power,  has  been  the  secret  of  success,  in  a 
 vast  majority  of  instances,  among  those 
 who  have  been  distinguished  for  extraor- 
 dinary parts  and  have  accomplished  ex- 
 traordinary results.  When  Luther  was 
 asked  how  he  had  found  time  to  translate 
 the  Bible,  he  said,  "  I  did  a  little  every 
 day."  The  well-known  habits  of  Wesley, 
 ■with  reference  to  the  use  of  his  time,  are 
 a  striking  characteristic  of  the  man,  and 
 give  us  the  key  to  his  success.  They  tell 
 us  how,  in  addition  to  all  his  other  labours, 
 he  wrote  and  prepared  for  the  press  more 
 books  than  most  men  find  time  to  read.  I 
 remember  reading  somewhere  the  descrip- 
 tion of  a  picture,  representing  a  man  at  tlie 
 base  of  a  mountain  with  his  coat  and  hat 
 upon  the  ground,  delving  into  it  with  a 
 pickaxe,  above  him  the  motto,  "  Little  by 
 little."  Let  this  be  the  motto  of  him 
 that  would  excel.  Slowly  and  amidst 
 many  discouragements  may  the  fabric  rise ; 
 but  its  fair  proportions  will  at  length 
 shine  forth  in  the  "workman  that  needeth 
 not  to  be  ashamed."  D.  W.  Clarlc. 
 
 TIMS— no  Leisure. 
 
 Dionysius,  the  Silician,  employed  his 
 time  so  well,  that  being  asked  by  one  who 
 wanted  to  speak  with  him  if  he  were  at 
 leisure,  answered,  "  Heaven  forbid  that  1 
 should  ever  have  any  leisure  time." 
 
 Scraggs. 
 
 TIME— lost. 
 
 Lost  wealth  may  be  restored  by  indus- 
 try— the  wreck  of  health  regained  by  tem- 
 perance— forgotten  knowledge  restored  by 
 
 study— alienated  friendship  smoothed  into 
 forgetfulness — even  forfeited  reputation 
 won  by  penitence  and  virtue.  But  who- 
 ever looked  upon  his  vanished  hours— re- 
 called his  slighted  years — stamped  them 
 with  wisdom ;  or  eff'aced  from  Heaven's 
 record  the  fearful  blot  of  wasted  time  ? 
 
 Mrs.  Sigourney. 
 
 It  was  a  saying  of  Charles  V,  "  I  have 
 spent  my  treasure,  but  that  I  may  recover 
 again ;  I  have  lost  my  health,  but  that  I 
 may  have  again;  but  I  have  lost  a  great 
 many  brave  soldiers,  but  them  I  can  never 
 have  again."  So  other  temporal  blessings 
 may  be  lost  and  recovered  again ;  but  if 
 the  term  of  life  wherein  you  should  work 
 for  heaven  be  once  lost,  it  is  past  all  re- 
 covery j  you  can  never  have  another  season 
 of  grace  for  your  souls.  T.  Watson. 
 
 TIME— Mystery  of. 
 
 That  great  mystery  of  Time,  were  there 
 no  other;  the  illimitable,  silent,  never- 
 resting  thing  called  Time,  i-olling,  rushing 
 on,  swift,  silent  like  an  all-embracing 
 ocean-tide,  on  which  we  and  all  the  uni- 
 verse swim  like  exhalations,  like  appa- 
 ritions which  are  and  then  are  not.  This 
 is  for  ever  very  literally  a  miracle, — a 
 thing  to  strike  us  dumb ;  for  we  have  no 
 word  to  speak  about  it.  Carlgle. 
 
 TIME— as  an  Old  Man. 
 
 Time  was  figured  by  the  artists  of 
 Greece  as  an  old  man,  running  on  tiptoes, 
 with  wings  at  his  feet,  a  razor,  or  a  scythe, 
 in  bis  right  hand,  a  lock  of  hair  on  his 
 forehead,  and  his  head  bald  behind ;  of  all 
 which  particulars  the  signification  is  too 
 well  known  to  need  a  comment. 
 
 W.  Jones. 
 
 TIME — as  Seen  in  Old  Age. 
 
 I  who  squandered  whole  days  heretofore, 
 now  husband  hours  and  minutes;  thus, 
 when  the  glass  begins  to  run  low,  I  will 
 not  spend  what  remains  in  trifles.  At  the 
 end  of  the  lottery  of  life  our  last  minutes, 
 like  tickets  left  in  the  wheel,  rise  in  their 
 valuation;  they  are  not  of  so  much  worth, 
 perhaps,  in  themselves,  as  those  which 
 preceded,  but  we  are  apt,  with  great 
 reason,  to  prize  them  more. 
 
 Bp.  Atterhury, 
 
 TIME— Shortness  of. 
 
 'Time's  a  hand's-breadth;  'tis  a  tale; 
 'Tis  a  vessel  under  sail ; 
 'Tis  an  eagle  in  its  way. 
 Darting  down  upon  its  prey ; 
 'Tis  an  arrow  in  its  flight. 
 Mocking  the  pursuing  sight ; 
 'Tis  a  short-lived  fading  flower; 
 'Tis  a  rainbow  on  a  shower  : 
 
816 
 
 TIME— TO-DAY. 
 
 'Tis  a  momentnrj'  ray 
 
 Smiling  in  a  winter's  day; 
 
 'Tis  a  torrent's  rapid  stream  ; 
 
 'Tis  a  shadow  ;  'tis  a  dream ; 
 
 'Tis  the  closing  watch  of  night. 
 
 Dying  at  the  rising  light ; 
 
 'Tis  a  bubble  ;  'tis  a  sigh  : 
 
 Be  prepared,  O  man,  to  die.        Quarles. 
 
 TIME— Travelling  of. 
 Time  travels  like  a  ship  in  the  wide  ocean, 
 Which  hath  no  bounding  shore  to  mark  its 
 progress.  Joanna  liailUe. 
 
 TIME— a  Treasure. 
 
 An  Italian  philosopher  expressed  in  his 
 motto,  "  that  time  was  his  treasure  ; "  an 
 estate,  indeed,  which  will  produce  nothing 
 without  cultivation,  but  which  will  always 
 abundantly  repay  the  labours  of  industry, 
 and  satisfy  the  most  extensive  desires,  if 
 no  part  of  it  be  suffered  to  lie  waste  by 
 negligence,  to  be  overrun  with  noxious 
 plants,  or  laid  out  for  show  rather  than 
 use.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 TIME— a  Tyrant. 
 
 Time  is  the  greatest  of  tyrants.  As  we 
 go  on  towards  age,  he  taxes  our  health, 
 our  limbs,  our  faculties,  our  strength,  and 
 our  features.  J,  Foster. 
 
 TIME— Use  of. 
 
 Time  is  life's  freightage,  wherewith  some 
 men  trade  and  make  a  tbrtune  ;  and  others 
 suffer  it  to  moulder  all  away,  or  waste  in 
 extravagance.  Time  is  life's  book,  out  of 
 which  some  extract  wondrous  wisdom ; 
 while  others  let  it  lie  uncovered,  and  then 
 die  fools.  Time  is  life's  tree,  from  which 
 some  gather  precious  fruit,  while  others  lie 
 down  under  its  shadow,  and  perish  with 
 hunger.  Time  is  life's  ladder,  whereby 
 some  raise  themselves  up  to  honour,  and 
 renown,  and  glory  ;  and  some  let  them- 
 selves down  into  the  deeps  of  shame, 
 degradation,  and  ignominy.  Time  will  be 
 to  us  what,  by  our  use  of  the  treasure,  we 
 make  it  j  a  good  or  an  evil,  a  blessing  or  a 
 curse.  J.  Stoughton. 
 
 TIME -Value  of. 
 
 As  every  thread  of  gold  is  valuable,  so  is 
 every  minute  of  time.  J.  Mason. 
 
 TIME— Waste  of. 
 
 The  amount  of  time  wasted  in  some 
 men's  lives  is  fearfully  large.  Not  to  men- 
 tion the  time  which  is  wasted  in  sleep, 
 dress,  and  gossip  ;  look  at  the  time  wasted 
 in  reveries,  absence  of  mind,  air-balloon 
 imaginations,  and  wild-goose  chases,  search- 
 ing for  new  inventions  without  finding 
 them,  making  schemes  and  never  executing 
 them,  writing  manuscripts  with  a  view  to 
 publish,  and  never  publishing  them,  brood- 
 
 ing over  imnginary  fears  and  never  real- 
 ising them,  indulging  in  sanguine  hopes 
 which  never  ripen  into  fruit,  battling  with 
 expected  spectral  appearances,  which  never 
 were  seen,  crossing  bridges  and  streams 
 and  forests  which  never  came  in  the  way, 
 meeting  objections  of  opponents  which 
 were  never  raised,  preparing  defences  of 
 character  upon  points  which  were  never 
 assailed,  quaking,  shaking,  moaning,  groan- 
 ing, grumbling  over  aches,  pains,  losses, 
 woes,  and  deaths,  which  only  existed  in 
 the  dreams  of  a  diseased  brain. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 TIME— Worth  of. 
 
 To  show  us  the  worth  of  time,  God, 
 most  liberal  of  all  other  things,  is  exceed- 
 ingly frugal  in  the  dispensing  of  that ;  for 
 He  never  gives  us  two  moments  together, 
 nor  grants  us  a  second  till  He  has  with- 
 drawn the  first,  still  keeping  the  third  in 
 His  own  hands,  so  that  we  are  in  a  perfect 
 uncertainty  whether  we  shall  have  it  or 
 not.  The  true  manner  of  preparing  for 
 the  last  moment  is,  to  spend  all  the  others 
 well,  and  ever  to  expect  that.  We  dote 
 upon  this  world  as  if  it  were  never  to 
 have  an  end  ;  and  we  neglect  the  next, 
 as  if  it  were  never  to  have  a  beginning. 
 
 Fenelon. 
 
 TIME  AND  ETERNITY— Claims  of. 
 
 Time  and  Eternity  touch  me  ;  for  I  am 
 both.  Time  assaults  me  for  the  dust  which 
 I  have,  and  insists  that  I  give  back  to  the 
 dust  every  atom  which  I  have  derived 
 therefrom.  Eternity  appeals  to  me  for  the 
 spirit  which  I  have.  Owing  to  these  two 
 claimants,  the  partnership  will  soon  have 
 to  be  dissolved  between  my  soul  and  body, 
 that  Earth  may  take  its  own,  and  Eternity 
 its  own.  J.  Fulsford. 
 
 TO-DAY. 
 
 To-day  is  given  us  by  Him  to  whom 
 belong  days.  We  have  the  power  to  use 
 it  as  we  please ;  we  can  compass  our  sal- 
 vation or  our  damnation  within  it ;  we  can 
 travel  twenty-four  hours  of  time  nearer  to 
 heaven  or  to  hell.  We  are  responsible  for 
 its  proper  use.  How  important  that  we 
 do  the  proper  work  of  to-day  in  the  sphere 
 of  to-day.  That  man  is  blessed  who,  at 
 the  close  of  to-day,  can  look  upon  all  his 
 work  as  done,  and  anticipate  to-morrow  as 
 bringing  nothing  with  it  but  the  things 
 which  legitimately  belong  to  it.  To-day 
 God  speaks  unto  us  in  His  Word,  that  we 
 harden  not  our  hearts.  To-day  is  the  day 
 of  salvation.  All  duties,  all  privileges,  all 
 trials,  all  joys,  all  sorrows;  iii  one  word, 
 everything  we  have,  we  have  to-day.  Yes- 
 terday is  gone,  to-morrow  is  not,  only  to- 
 day is  ours,  and  only  in  to-day  do  we  hold 
 all  our  possessions.  John  Bate. 
 
TO-MOEEOW— TONGUE. 
 
 847 
 
 TO-MOERO-W. 
 
 Whose  is  to-morrow  ?  'Tis  the  Lord's. 
 Then  what  right  has  man  to  claim  it  as 
 his,  but  with  the  permission  of  the  Pro- 
 prietor ?  Hence  the  consistency  of  St. 
 James's  language,  "  If  the  Lord  will " 
 (James  iv,  13 — 15).  How  many  defer 
 their  work  of  to-day  till  to-morrow,  when 
 each  day  ought  to  witness  the  finish  of  its 
 own  allotted  work.  How  many  postpone 
 salvation  till  to-morrow,  when  now  is  the 
 day  of  salvation.  There  is  great  power  of 
 flattery,  insinuation,  hope,  and  deception 
 JH  to-morrow.  It  has  robbed  the  world  of 
 many  noble  deeds,  the  Church  of  many 
 r"'<5cious  gifts,  and  the  Redeemer  of  millions 
 6i  precious  souls.  John  Bate. 
 
 Our  yesterday's  to-morrow  now  is  gone, 
 And  still  a  new  to-morrow  does  come  on ; 
 We  by  to-morrows  draw  up  all  our  store, 
 Till  the  exhausted  well  can  yield  no  more. 
 Cowley. 
 
 To-morrow  you  will  live,  you  always  cry : 
 In  what  far  country  does  this  morrow  lie. 
 That  'tis  so  mighty  long  ere  it  arrive  ? 
 Beyond  the  Indies  does  this  morrow  live  ? 
 'Tis  so  far  fetch'd  this  morrow,  that  I  fear 
 'Twill  be  both  very  old  and  very  dear. 
 To-morrow  I  will  live,  the  fool  does  say; 
 To-day  itself's  too  late,  the  wise  lived  yes- 
 terday. Ibid. 
 
 TO-MOEEOW— Thought  of. 
 
 "  Take  no  thought  for  to-morrow."  Am 
 I  to  be  told  that  I  break  this  latter  com- 
 mand if  I  take  thought  for  duties  and 
 responsibihties  which  do  not  press  to-day, 
 but  will  to-morrow  ?  Without  doing  so, 
 I  cannot  fulfil  my  duty  to  God,  to  my 
 neighbour,  or  to  myself.  The  highest 
 obligations  which  are  laid  upon  me  re- 
 quire thought,  and  action  too,  for  the 
 morrow.  This  runs  through  all  the  ways 
 of  Providence.  Most  of  the  duties  for 
 which  He  holds  us  responsible  call  us  to 
 work  for  the  morrow.  For  to-morrow  the 
 plougher  ploughs,  for  to-morrow  the  sower 
 sows,  for  to-morrow  the  reaper  reaps,  for 
 to-morrow  the  miller  grinds,  for  to-morrow 
 the  weaver  plies  his  loom,  for  to-morrow 
 the  builder  frames  his  roof;  and  did  we 
 put  a  stop  to  all  labour  which  is  for  to- 
 morrow, we  should  at  once  reduce  the 
 activity  of  the  human  race  to  a  few  of 
 the  most  menial  occupations.  The  call  to 
 take  no  thought  for  to-morrow  is  cer- 
 tainly not  a  call  to  neglect  duties,  and 
 evade  responsibilities ;  but  a  call  to  trust 
 in  Providence  when  the  time  only  to  trust 
 has  come.  When  I  have  done  for  to- 
 morrow all  that  is  laid  at  my  door,  then 
 let  me  not  encroach  upon  the  province  of 
 Him  who  alone  can  rule  the  future  and 
 
 the  contingent  by  troubling  myself  with 
 them.  Let  me  simply  do  this  day  the 
 work  which  is  this  day  due ;  and  though 
 long  and  impenetrable  months  may  lie 
 between  me  and  its  result,  for  that  I  must 
 trust  Him  whom  the  sparrows  trust ;  say- 
 ing cheerfully,  "  The  Lord  will  provide  ! " 
 W.  Arthur. 
 
 TONGUE— Mischief  of  the. 
 
 I  saw  a  terrible  fire  some  time  ago,  or 
 rather,  I  saw  the  reflection  of  it  in  the 
 sky  ;  the  heavens  were  crimsoned  with  it. 
 It  burned  a  large  manufactory  to  the 
 ground,  and  the  firemen  had  hard  work 
 to  save  the  buildings  which  surrounded  it. 
 They  poured  streams  of  water  on  it  from 
 fifteen  engines,  but  it  licked  it  up,  and 
 would  have  its  course  till  the  walls  gave 
 way.  That  terrible  fire  was  kindled  by  a 
 farthing  rushlight.  Some  years  ago  I  saw 
 the  black  ashes  of  what  the  night  before 
 was  a  splendid  farm-yard,  with  hay-ricks, 
 corn-stacks,  stables,  and  cow-sheds,  and 
 lying  about  upon  them  were  the  carcases 
 of  a  number  of  miserable  horses  and  bul- 
 locks, which  had  perished  in  the  flames. 
 All  that  was  done  by  a  lucifer  match.  In 
 America,  the  Indians  strike  a  spark  from 
 a  flint  and  steel,  and  set  fire  to  the  dry 
 grass,  and  the  flames  spread  and  spread, 
 until  they  sweep  like  a  roaring  torrent 
 over  prairies  as  large  as  England,  and  men 
 and  cattle  have  to  flee  for  their  lives. 
 "  Behold,  how  great  a  matter  a  little  fire 
 kindleth  ! "  and  the  tongue  is  a  fire.  A 
 few  rash  words  will  set  a  family,  a  neigh- 
 bourhood, a  nation  by  the  ears ;  they  often 
 have  done  so.  Half  the  law-suits  and  half 
 the  wars  have  been  brought  about  by  the 
 tongue.  Husband  and  wife  have  separated 
 for  ever,  children  have  forsaken  their  homes, 
 bosom  friends  have  become  bitter  foes-— 
 all  on  account  of  fiery  arrows  shot  by  this 
 powerful  little  member.  J.  Bolton, 
 
 TONGUE— Eestraint  of  the. 
 
 Give  not  thy  tongue  too  great  a  liberty, 
 lest  it  take  thee  prisoner.  A  word  un- 
 spoken is,  like  the  sword  in  the  scabbard, 
 thine  ;  if  vented,  thy  sword  is  in  another's 
 hand.  If  thou  desire  to  be  held  wise,  be 
 so  wise  as  to  hold  thy  tongue.         Quarles. 
 
 TONGUE— Versatile. 
 
 For  on  the  tip  of  his  subduing  tongue 
 All  kind  of  arguments  and  question  deep. 
 All  replication  prompt,  and  reason  strong. 
 For   his   advantage    still    did    wake    and 
 
 sleep : 
 To  make  the  weeper  laugh,  the  laugher 
 
 weep. 
 He  had  the  dialect  and  different  skill. 
 Catching  all  passions  in  his  craft  at  wilL 
 
 ShaJces^eare. 
 
813 
 
 TONGUE  AND  HEART-TRIALS. 
 
 TONGUE  AND  HEART. 
 
 The  tongue  blessing  God  without  the 
 heart  is  but  a  tinkling  symbal ;  the  heart 
 blessing  God  without  the  tongue  is  sweet 
 but  still  music  ;  both  in  concert  make  their 
 harmony,  which  fills  and  delights  heaven 
 and  earth.  Venning. 
 
 TRACT— Good  of  a. 
 
 "  Are  you  out  of  work,  my  friend  ?"  in- 
 quired a  city  missionary  of  a  man  whom 
 he  saw  standing  idle  at  the  corner  of  a 
 street. 
 
 "Yes,"  replied  the  idler  with  averted 
 eyes. 
 
 "I  fear,  my  friend,"  rejoined  the  mis- 
 sionary, "  that  you  do  not  lead  an  honest 
 life.  I  think,  too,  that  your  evil  courses 
 make  you  unhappy.    Am  I  not  correct  ?  " 
 
 "  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "  I  am,  and  if  I 
 knew  how,  I  would  change  my  course." 
 He  then  pulled  an  old  soiled  tract  from 
 his  pocket,  and  holding  it  up,  said  with 
 deep  feeling,  "  That  makes  me  unhappy  !  " 
 
 Now  this  man,  who  had  been  spoiled  for 
 the  devil's  service  by  the  gift  of  a  tract, 
 had  long  been  employed  in  teaching  boys 
 to  steal.  Not  less  than  five  hundred  boys 
 had  been  instructed  in  the  arts  of  the  thief 
 by  this  bad  man.  But  a  tract  placed  in 
 his  hands  one  day  by  some  pious  soul  con- 
 vinced him  of  sin,  and  made  him  desire  to 
 lead  a  new  life.  The  city  missionary  took 
 him  in  hand,  he  sought  forgiveness,  and 
 became  a  truly  Christian  man.  His  con- 
 version was  the  fruit  of  a  tract  given  as 
 seed  is  scattered  by  the  wayside.         Wise. 
 
 TRANSUBSTANTTATION— Absurdity  of. 
 
 A  young  gentleman  who  had  been  edu- 
 cated at  Maynooth  College  in  the  Roman 
 Catholic  faith,  once  held  a  conversation  in 
 company  with  Gideon  Ouseley  upon  the 
 pnpe's  supremacy,  but  finding  himself  un- 
 able to  defend  this  dogma,  he  turned  to 
 the  famous  topic  of  transubstantiation.  He 
 said  that  our  Lord  had  turned  the  sacra- 
 mental bread  into  His  own  body,  &c.  Mr. 
 Ouseley  asked  him,  "  Did  not  our  blessed 
 Lord  eat  of  that  bread,  and  drink  of  that 
 CU51  after  the  consecration  ?"  He  answered, 
 "  Yes."  "  And  do  you  think,"  said  Mr. 
 Ouseley,  "that  He  ate  Himself?"  The 
 young  disputant  replied,  "  I  believe  He 
 did."  "  Then,"  retorted  Mr.  0.,  "  His  oion 
 head  was  in  His  own  mouth,  as  were  His 
 feet  and  His  whole  body.  And  so,  a  part 
 is  greater  than  the  whole,  &c.,  &c.  And 
 yet  His  feet  were  on  the  ground !"  The 
 gentlemen  present  laughed  immoderately 
 at  such  an  absurd  notion.  The  young  man 
 was  quite  confounded,  and  virtually  relin- 
 quished the  doctrine. 
 
 Life  of  Gideon  Ouseley. 
 
 TREACHERY— Definition  of. 
 
 Treachery  is  the  violation  of  allegiance, 
 or  of  faith  and  confidence.  The  man  who 
 betrays  his  country  in  any  manner,  violates 
 his  allegiance,  and  is  guilty  of  treachery. 
 This  is  treason.  The  man  who  violates  his 
 faith  pledged  to  his  friend,  or  betrays  a 
 trust  in  which  a  promise  of  fidelity  is  im- 
 plied, is  guilty  of  treachery.  The  dis- 
 closure of  a  secret  committed  to  one  in 
 confidence  is  treachery.  Webster. 
 
 TREACHERY— "Wickedness  of. 
 
 Of  all  the  vices  to  which  human  nature 
 is  subject,  treachery  is  the  most  infamous 
 and  detestable,  being  compounded  of  fraud, 
 cowardice,  and  revenge.  The  greatest 
 wrongs  will  not  justify  it,  as  it  destroys 
 those  principles  of  mutual  confidence  and 
 security  by  which  only  society  can  subsist. 
 The  Romans,  a  brave  and  generous  people, 
 disdained  to  practise  it  towards  their  de- 
 clared enemies ;  Christianity  teaches  us  to 
 forgive  injuries  :  but  to  resent  them  under 
 the  disguise  of  friendship  and  benevolence, 
 argues  a  degeneracy  at  which  common 
 humanity  and  justice  must  blush. 
 
 L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 TREASON— Curse  on. 
 
 Is  there  not  some  chosen  curse, 
 Some    hidden   thunder   in   the   stores    of 
 
 heaven. 
 Red  with  uncommon  wrath,  to  blast  the 
 
 man 
 Which  owes  his  greatness  to  his  country's 
 
 ruin !  Addison. 
 
 0  for  a  tongue  to  curse  the  slave 
 Whose  treason,  like  a  deadly  blight. 
 
 Comes  o'er  the  councils  of  the  brave 
 To  blast  them  in  their  hour  of  might ! 
 T.  Moore. 
 
 TREASON— Disgrace  of. 
 
 The  man  was  noble. 
 But  with  his  last  attempt  he  wip'd  it  out, 
 Betray'd  his  country ;   and  his  name  re- 
 mains 
 To  the  ensuing  age  abhorr'd. 
 
 Slialcespeare. 
 
 TREASON— Murder  with. 
 Treason  and  murder  ever  kept  together, 
 As  two  yoke-devils  sworn  to  cither's  pur- 
 pose. Ibid. 
 
 TRIALS — Beauties  of  Holiness  in. 
 
 As  the  rainbow  would  never  be  seen  were 
 it  not  for  the  clouds  and  the  rain,  the 
 beauties  of  holiness  would  never  shine  so 
 brightly  were  it  not  for  the  trials  which 
 the  Spirit  of  God  employs  to  promote 
 them.  Br.  Tweedie. 
 
TRIALS. 
 
 849 
 
 TRIALS— Benefit  of. 
 
 Stars  shine  brightest  in  the  darkest 
 night;  torches  are  the  better  for  beating; 
 grapes  come  not  to  the  proof  till  they  come 
 to  the  press ;  spices  smell  sweetest  when 
 pounded;  young  trees  root  the  faster  for 
 shaking ;  vines  are  the  better  for  bleeding ; 
 gold  looks  the  brighter  for  scouring ;  glow- 
 worms glisten  best  in  the  dark ;  juniper 
 smells  sweetest  in  the  fire;  pomander 
 becomes  most  fragrant  for  chasing;  the 
 palm-tree  proves  the  better  for  pressing ; 
 camomile,  the  more  you  tread  it,  the  more 
 you  spread  it.  Such  is  the  condition  of  all 
 God's  children  ;  they  are  the  most  trium- 
 ])liant  when  most  tempted;  most  glorious 
 when  most  afflicted;  most  in  the  favour 
 of  God,  when  least  in  man's  ;  as  their  con- 
 flicts, so  their  conquests  ;  as  their  tribula- 
 tions, so  their  triumphs.  True  salamanders, 
 that  live  best  in  the  furnace  of  persecution ; 
 so  that  heavy  afflictions  are  the  best  bene- 
 fiictors  to  heavenly  atfec.'ions.  And  where 
 afflictions  hang  heaviest,  corruptions  hang 
 loosest ;  and  grace  that  io  hid  in  nature,  as 
 sweet  water  in  rose  leaves,  is  then  most 
 fr:i grant,  when  the  fire  of  affliction  is  put 
 under,  to  distil  it  out.  Spencer. 
 
 It  is  the  broken  rock  that  sends  forth 
 streams  of  living  water  through  the  wil- 
 derness. It  is  the  broken  ground  that 
 opens  its  bosom  for  the  reception  of  the 
 incorruptible  seed  which  springs  up  and 
 which  brings  forth  fruit  abundantly.  It 
 is  the  broken  cloud  that  discbarges  itself 
 in  showers  that  usher  in  the  spring,  and 
 cheer  the  thirsty  ground.  It  is  the  broken 
 alabaster  wherewith  the  poor  penitent 
 anoints  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  and  which 
 fills  the  whole  house  with  the  odour  of  the 
 precious  spikenard.  It  is  the  broken  body, 
 which  the  nails  of  the  cross  and  the  spear 
 of  a  mortal  enemy  have  pierced,  that  fur- 
 nishes the  blood  that  cleanses  the  soul 
 from  all  sin.  It  is  the  broken  vail  that 
 opens  into  the  holiest  of  all,  and  gives  to 
 the  believing  soul  bright  glimpses  into  the 
 glory  that  is  yet  to  be  revealed.  It  is  the 
 broken  grave  that  announces  the  reality  of 
 the  resurrection,  and  proclaims  to  the  un- 
 believing disciple  that  the  Saviour  is  risen 
 indeed.  It  is  the  broken  corn  that  is 
 separated  from  the  chaff,  and  laid  up  in 
 the  garner  of  the  husbandman,  or  changed 
 into  the  break  of  life.  And  it  is  the 
 broken  berries  which  the  millstones  of  the 
 olive  press  have  crushed,  that  give  forth 
 the  precious  oil  which  fills  the  dark  taber- 
 nacle  with  the  radiance  of  a  clear  and 
 tranquillising  light. 
 
 So  it  is  with  vital  Christians.  It  is  by 
 means  of  the  sifting  and  the  crushing  pro- 
 cesses to  which  they  are  subjected  by  the 
 providence  of  God,  that  thev  become  like 
 
 the  salt  of  the  earth — like  the  lamps  of 
 the  tabernacle — like  the  lights  of  the 
 world.  Dr.  J.  Samilton. 
 
 TRIALS— Design  of. 
 
 Look  as  a  mother  that  weans  her  child, 
 lays  wormwood,  or  some  other  bitter  thing, 
 upon  her  breast,  to  make  the  child  loathe 
 the  milk;  so  likewise  God  makes  us  often 
 feel  the  miseries  and  crosses  of  this  life, 
 that  our  love  and  liking  may  be  turned 
 from  this  world  and  fixed  in  heaven. 
 
 W.  Ferkins. 
 
 TRIALS— Effects  of. 
 
 Trial  brings  man  face  to  face  with 
 God — God  and  he  touch ;  and  the  flimsy 
 veil  of  bright  cloud  that  hung  between 
 him  and  the  sky  is  blown  away ;  he  feels 
 that  he  is  standing  outside  the  earth  with 
 nothing  between  him  and  the  Eternal  In- 
 finite. Oh !  there  is  something  in  the 
 sick-bed,  and  the  aching  heart,  and  the 
 restlessness  and  the  languor  of  shattered 
 health,  and  the  sorrow  of  affections  withered, 
 and  the  stream  of  life  poisoned  at  its  foun- 
 tain, and  the  cold  lonely  feeling  of  utter 
 rawness  of  heart  which  is  felt  when  God 
 strikes  home  in  earnest,  that  forces  a  man 
 to  feel  what  is  real  and  what  is  not. 
 
 F.  W.  Eolertson. 
 
 TRIALS— Expressions  of  Love. 
 
 Our  heavenly  Father  loveth  us ;  and 
 because  He  loveth  us.  He  takes  away  our 
 precious  things.  He  deals  with  us  some- 
 what after  the  manner  of  an  ancient 
 painter  with  his  pupil.  The  young  artist 
 had  genius,  and  produced  a  picture  of 
 much  merit,  which  was  greatly  admired 
 by  all.  His  young  heart  then  swelled  with 
 vanity.  He  laid  aside  his  palette  and 
 pencil,  and  sat  daily  before  his  easel,  ad- 
 miring the  offspring  of  his  own  genius. 
 
 One  morning,  he  found  his  beautiful 
 creations  expunged  from  the  canvass.  He 
 wept  bitterly.  His  master  appeared,  and 
 said,  "  I  have  done  this  for  your  benefit; 
 the  picture  was  ruining  you." 
 
 "  How  so  ?"  demanded  the  pupil. 
 
 "Because,  in  the  admiration  of  your 
 own  talents,  you  were  losing  your  love  of 
 the  art  itself.  Take  your  pencil,  and  try 
 again." 
 
 The  youth  dried  his  tears,  seized  his 
 pencil,  and  produced  a  masterpiece,  which, 
 but  for  this  severe  trial,  he  would  in  all 
 probability  have  never  executed. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 TRIALS— Good  of. 
 
 The  Athenian  said,  "  I  should  have  been 
 lost,  if  I  had  not  been  lost."  What  made 
 the  Prodigal  think  of  home,  but  want  ? 
 Where  did  Manasseh  find  his  father's  God, 
 but  in  affliction  ?  We  often  feel  for  those 
 54 
 
TPJAIS. 
 
 who  have  been  reduced,  and  say,  They 
 have  seen  better  days  ;  but  it'  in  tlieir  pros- 
 perity tbey  forgot  God  that  made  them, 
 and  lightly  esteemed  the  Eock  of  their 
 •salvation,  and  in  their  adversity  have 
 thrown  themselves  into  His  arms ;  these, 
 ■these  are  the  best  days  they  ever  saw,  and 
 ihey  will  draw  forth  their  praise  for  ever. 
 
 Jay- 
 
 Job,  after  his  trials,  knew  more  of  himself 
 and  God,  was  more  like  Him,  and  possessed 
 more  wealth  than  he  did  before.  If  the 
 jeweller  places  an  article  of  worth  in  the 
 fire  and  uzider  the  hammer,  it  comes  forth 
 in  his  hands  an  article  of  greater  beauty 
 and  valu€.  The  good  wheat  which  is  cast 
 into  the  mill,  comes  out,  after  the  grind- 
 ing, as  flour,  more  valuable  and  serviceable 
 tliari  it  was  before.  It  is  thus  with  God's 
 people.  After  they  are  tried  they  come 
 forth  as  gold  purified. 
 
 "  The  lire  our  graces  «hall  refine 
 
 Till  moulded  from  above. 
 We  bear  the  character  divine. 
 The  stamp  of  perfect  love." 
 
 Johi  Bate. 
 
 TRIALS— Help  in. 
 
 There  are  two  ways  of  helping  a  man 
 burdened  with  what  he  has  to  do  or  bear. 
 The  one  is  to  give  him  less  to  do  or  bear : 
 to  take  the  burden  ofl'  his  back.  The 
 other  way  is  to  strengthen  him  to  do  or 
 bear  all  that  is  sent  him :  to  strengthen 
 the  back  to  bear  the  burden.  In  brief, 
 you  may  give  less  work ;  or  you  may  give 
 more  strength.  And  it  is  in  this  way  that 
 the  wise  and  Almighty  Saviour  promises 
 help  to  His  people  in  their  trials.  When 
 He  does  not  see  proper  to  lessen  the  work, 
 or  reduce  the  burden,  he  says,  "  My  grace 
 is  sufficient  for  thee ;  for  my  strength  is 
 made  perfect  in  weakness."  Thus  Abraham, 
 Job,  and  Paul,  were  helped  in  their  trials. 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 TRIALS— ITecessary. 
 
 •Fire,  and  hammer,  and  file  are  necessary 
 to  give  the  metal  form ;  and  it  must  have 
 many  a  grind,  and  many  a  rub  ere  it  will 
 shine;  so,  in  trial,  character  is  shaped, 
 and  beautified  and  brightened. 
 
 S.  Coleij. 
 
 TRIALS— Polisli. 
 
 It  is  rough  work  that  polishes.  Look 
 at  the  pebbles  on  the  shore  !  Far  inland, 
 where  some  arm  of  the  sea  thrusts  itself 
 deep  into  the  bosom  of  the  land,  and,  ex- 
 panding into  a  salt  loch,  lies  girdled  by 
 the  mountains,  sheltered  from  the  storms 
 that  agitate  the  deep,  the  pebbles  on  the 
 beach  are  rough,  not  beautiful ;  angular, 
 not  rounded.  It  is  where  long  white  lines 
 of  breakers  roar,  and  the  rattling  shingle 
 
 is  rolled  about  the  strand,  that  its  pebbles 
 are  rounded  and  polished.  As  in  nature,  as 
 in  the  arts,  so  in  grace ;  it  is  rough  treat- 
 ment that  gives  souls,  as  well  as  stones, 
 their  lustre;  the  more  the  diamond  is  cut, 
 the  brighter  it  sparkles;  and  in  whit 
 seems  hard  dealing,  their  God  has  no  end 
 in  view  but  to  perfect  His  people's  graces. 
 Our  Father,  and  kindest  of  fathers.  He 
 afflicts  not  willingly;  He  sends  tribula- 
 tions, but  hear  Paul  tell  their  purpose, 
 "  Tribulation  worketh  patience,  patience 
 experience,  experience  hope." 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie, 
 
 TRIALS— Preventives  of  Sin. 
 
 We  never  know  how  near  we  are  to 
 danger.  We  are  like  blind  men  wander- 
 ing near  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  the  mouth 
 of  a  well,  or  the  margin  of  a  deep  pit;  and 
 then  God  by  a  severe  wrench,  it  may  be, 
 and  a  violent  jerk  that  puts  us  to  some 
 pain  and  gives  us  a  severe  shock,  plucks 
 us  from  the  ruin  that  we  saw  not.  Oh, 
 what  hair-bi'eudth  escapes  from  destruc- 
 tion, eflected  perhaps  by  some  distressing 
 visitation,  shall  we  in  eternity  be  made  to 
 understand  that  we  experienced  on  eai'th. 
 We  now  often  stand  amazed  at  some  sore 
 trial ;  we  cannot  conjecture  why  it  was 
 sent;  we  see  no  purpose  it  was  to  serve, 
 no  end  it  was  to  accomplish;  but  there 
 was  an  Omniscient  Eye  that  saw  what  we 
 did  not  and  could  not  see,  and  He  sent 
 forth  this  event  to  pluck  our  feet  from  the 
 net  which  had  been  spread  for  them.  How 
 we  shall  adore  God  in  heaven  for  these  pre- 
 venting mercies  that  came  in  the  form  of 
 some  d;n-k  and  inexplicable  event,  but 
 which  filled  us  at  the  same  time  with 
 lamentation  and  woe  !  J.  A.  James. 
 
 TRIALS— Purification  by. 
 
 When  I  was  at  Shields,  I  went  into  a 
 glass-house;  and,  standing  very  attentive, 
 I  saw  several  masses  of  burning  glass,  of 
 various  forms.  The  workman  took  a  piece 
 of  glass  and  put  it  into  one  furnace,  then 
 he  pvxt  it  into  a  second,  and  then  into  a 
 third.  I  said  to  him,  "  Why  do  you  put 
 this  through  so  many  fires  ?"  He  answered, 
 "  O,  sir,  the  first  was  not  hot  enough,  nor 
 the  second,  and,  therefore,  we  put  it  into 
 a  third,  and  that  will  make  it  transparent." 
 Whitfield. 
 
 TRIALS— Refuge  in. 
 
 It  was  once  demanded  of  the  fourth 
 khalif,  Aalee :  "  If  the  canopy  of  heaven 
 were  a  bow,  and  the  earth  were  the  cord 
 thereof;  if  calamitieo  were  arrows,  and 
 mankind  were  the  mark  for  them ;  and 
 if  Almighty  God,  the  Tremendous  and 
 Glorious,  were  the  unerring  archer;  to 
 whom  could  the  sons  of  Adam  flee  for  pro- 
 
TRIALS— TRIALS  SAVE  US. 
 
 831 
 
 tection  ?"     The  khallf  answered,  saying, — 
 
 *'  The  sons  of  Adam  must  flee  to  the  Lord." 
 
 Dr.  A.  Clark. 
 
 TRIALS— Tests. 
 
 The  surest  way  to  know  our  gold  is  to 
 look  upon  it  and  examine  it  in  God's  fur- 
 nace, where  He  tries  it  for  that  end,  that 
 we  may  see  what  it  is.  If  we  have  a  mind 
 to  know  whether  a  building  stands  strong 
 or  no,  we  must  look  upon  it  when  the  wind 
 Wows.  If  we  would  know  wliether  that 
 ■which  appears  in  the  form  of  wheat  has 
 the  real  substance  of  wheat,  or  be  only 
 chaff,  we  must  observe  it  when  it  is  win- 
 nowed. If  we  would  know  whether  a  staft' 
 be  strong,  or  a  rotten,  broken  reed,  we 
 must  observe  it  when  it  is  leaned  on,  and  I 
 weight  is  borne  upon  it.  If  we  would  i 
 weigh  ourselves  justly,  we  must  weigh  | 
 ourselves  in  God's  scales,  that  He  makes 
 use  of  to  weigh  us. 
 
 Jonathan  Edwards. 
 
 TRIALS— Use  of. 
 
 Outward  attacks  and  troubles  rather  fix 
 than  unsettle  the  Christian,  as  tempests 
 from  without  only  serve  to  root  the  oak 
 faster ;  whilst  an  inward  canker  will  gra- 
 dually rot  and  decay  it.  S.  More. 
 
 TRIALS— Wisdom  of. 
 
 Unthinking  people  would  like  a  world 
 ■where  corn  should  grow  spontaneously  and 
 plenty  ever  lie  ready  to  hand.  They 
 would  have  their  path  beautified  by  flowers 
 fairer  than  those  of  Eden,  and  refreshed 
 by  zephyrs  balmier  than  those  of  the 
 sunny  south.  They  would  banish  care, 
 and  make  work  obsolete.  How  would  all 
 this  issue  ?  Doubtless  in  the  degeneracy 
 of  our  race  into  a  crowd  of  soft  and  sloth- 
 ful Sybarites.  God  is  too  wise  for  this. 
 He  knows  comfort  to  be  of  far  less  impor- 
 tance than  character,  aud  acts  on  that 
 knowledge.  S.  Colei/. 
 
 TRIALS— Wisdom  of  God  in. 
 
 We  may  indeed  think,  Cannot  God 
 bring  us  to  heaven  with  ease  and  pros- 
 perity ?  Who  doubteth  that  He  can  ?  But 
 His  infinite  wisdom  thinketh,  and  decreeth 
 the  contrary  ;  and  we  cannot  see  a  reason 
 for  it,  yet  He  hath  a  most  just  reason. 
 We  never  with  our  eyes  saw  our  own  soul, 
 yet  we  have  a  soul;  we  see  many  rivers, 
 but  we  know  not  their  first  spring  and 
 original  fountain,  yet  they  have  a  begin- 
 ning. Madam,  when  ye  are  come  to  the 
 other  side  of  the  water,  and  have  set  down 
 your  foot  on  the  shore  of  glorious  eternity, 
 and  look  back  again  to  the  waters,  and  to 
 your  wearisome  journey,  and  shall  see,  in 
 that  clear  glass  of  endless  glory,  nearer  to 
 the  bottom  of  God's  wisdom,  ye  shall,  then, 
 be  forced  to  say,  "  If  God  had  done  other- 
 
 wise with  me  than  He  hath  done,  I  had 
 never  come  to  the  enjoying  of  this  crown 
 of  glory."  It  is  your  part  now  to  believe, 
 and  suffer,  and  hope,  and  wait  on  ;  for  I 
 protest,  in  the  presence  of  that  all-discern- 
 ing Eye,  who  knoweth  what  I  write,  and 
 what  I  think,  that  I  would  not  want  the 
 sweet  experience  of  the  consolations  of 
 God,  for  all  the  bitterness  of  affliction: 
 nay,  whether  God  come  to  His  children 
 with  a  rod  or  a  crown,  if  He  come  Himself 
 with  it,  it  is  well.  AVelcome,  welcome 
 Jesus,  what  way  soever  Thou  comest,  if 
 we  can  get  a  sight  of  Thee.  And  sure  I 
 am  that  it  is  better  to  be  sick,  providing 
 Christ  come  to  the  bed-side,  and  draw  by 
 the  curtains,  and  say,  "  Courage  !  I  am  thy 
 salvation !"  than  to  enjoy  health,  being 
 lusty  aud  strong,  aud  never  to  be  visited 
 of  God.  S.  Eutherford. 
 
 TRIALS  IN  ALL  CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 Let  a  man  be  in  the  most  propitious  cir- 
 cumstances, he  is  sure  to  have  something 
 to  pain  his  heart.  Naaman  was  a  great 
 man,  but  he  was  a  leper  ;  Paul,  a  great 
 apostle,  but  he  had  a  thorn  in  the  flesh ; 
 David  a  mighty  sovereign,  but  his  house 
 was  not  right  with  God.  Man  looks  to 
 new  relationships,  and  fancies  they  will  be 
 a  beautiful  garden,  on  which  the  sun  will 
 shine  and  the  dews  descend,  but  he  will 
 find  a  grave  there.  He  looks  to  new  de- 
 partments of  business  as  a  garden,  but  he 
 will  find  a  grave  there.  There  is  some 
 cloud  on  every  landscape,  a  mildew  ou 
 every  flower.  Br.  Thomas. 
 
 TRIALS  SAVE  US. 
 
 Two  painters  were  employed  to  frescoe 
 the  walls  of  a  cathedral.  Both  stood  on  a 
 rude  scaflblding,  constructed  for  the  pur- 
 pose, some  forty  feet  from  the  floor. 
 
 One  of  them  was  so  intent  upon  his 
 work  that  he  became  wholly  absorbed,  and, 
 in  admmition,  stood  off  from  the  picture, 
 gazing  at  it  with  intense  delight. 
 
 Forgetting  where  he  was,  he  moved 
 back  slowly,  surveying  critically  the  work 
 of  his  pencil,  until  he  had  neared  the  edge 
 of  the  plank  on  which  he  stood.  At  this 
 critical  moment  his  companion  turned  sud- 
 denly, and,  almost  paralysed  with  horror, 
 beheld  his  imminent  peril;  another  in- 
 stant, and  the  enthusiast  would  be  pre- 
 cipitated upon  the  pavement  beneath.  If 
 he  spoke  to  him,  it  was  certain  death ;  if 
 he  held  his  peace,  death  was  equally  sure. 
 Suddenly  he  regained  his  presence  of  mind, 
 and  seizing  a  wet  brush,  flung  it  against 
 the  wall,  spattering  the  picture  with  un- 
 sightly blotches  of  colouring. 
 
 The  painter  flew  forward,  and  turned 
 upon  his  friend  with  fierce  upbraidings; 
 but,  startled  at  his  ghastly  face,  he  listened 
 to  his  recital  of  danger,  looked  shuddering 
 
852 
 
 TRIFLER— TRINITY. 
 
 over  the  dread  space  telow,  and  with  tears 
 of  gratitude  blessed  the  hand  that  saved 
 him. 
 
 Just  so  we  sometimes  get  absorbed  upon 
 the  pictures  of  the  world ;  and  in  con- 
 templating them  step  backwards,  uncon- 
 scious of  our  peril,  when  the  Almighty  in 
 mercy  dashes  out  the  beautiful  images, 
 and  draws  us,  at  the  time  we  are  com- 
 plaining of  His  dealings,  into  His  out- 
 stretched arms  of  compassion  and  love. 
 
 Anon. 
 TRIFLER— Description  of  the. 
 
 The  trifler,  the  speaking  automaton, — 
 the  moral  insect  whose  existence  is  a  per- 
 petual flutter ;  less  respectable  than  the 
 bee,  for  he  gathers  no  honey ;  or  the  glow- 
 worm, for  he  sheds  no  light ;  or  the  ant, 
 for  he  lays  up  nothing  in  store.  Some 
 men's  conversation  is  a  uniform  rattle,  as 
 if  the  proper  business  of  society  was  to  re- 
 vel in  nonsense,  and  the  best  use  of  speech 
 was  to  give  it  currency.  J.  B.  Owen. 
 
 TRIPLES— Importance  of. 
 
 Your  doom  is  spoken  in  a  word  or  two. 
 A  single  look  from  the  eyes,  a  mere  pres- 
 sure of  the  hand,  may  decide  it  j  or  of  the 
 lips,  though  they  cannot  speak. 
 
 Tliackeray. 
 
 A  spectator  in  hastening  across  the 
 street  to  witness  a  passing  pageant,  had 
 some  dust  blown  into  his  eyes  by  the  wind, 
 which  effectually  prevented  him  from 
 accomplishing  his  object.  "  There  were 
 but  a  few  specks  m  my  eye,"  said  he, 
 when  relating  the  circumstance  after- 
 wards, "  but  they  blinded  me  as  much  as 
 if  you  had  held  up  a  barn  door  befoi'e  me." 
 
 A  heavily-laden  waggon  was  rumbling 
 along  the  road,  when  the  driver  discovered, 
 just  in  time,  that  one  of  the  wheels  was 
 coming  off.  This  accident  was  occasioned 
 by  a  loose  linch-pin  having  fallen  out, 
 somehow,  on  the  road.  "  It  is  but  a 
 trifle,"  muttered  the  waggoner,  "  but  trifle 
 as  it  is,  it  will  prevent  me  stirring  till  I 
 get  another,  for  I  can  no  more  go  on  with- 
 out a  linch-pin,  than  I  could  without  a 
 wheel." 
 
 A  beautiful,  but  somewhat  complicated 
 machine  was  being  exhibited  to  a  group  of 
 mechanics,  when  suddenly,  its  movements 
 were  altogether  stopped,  by  a  small  screw 
 becoming  loose.  The  exhibiter  requested 
 his  auditors  to  be  patient  while  he  remedied 
 the  evil,  telling  them  that  the  machine 
 was  as  useless  without  the  screw,  as  the 
 screw  would  be  without  the  machine. 
 
 <?.  Mogridge. 
 TRIPIES— Time  spent  in. 
 
 As  it  would  be  great  folly  to  shoe  horses 
 (as  Nero  did)  with  gold,  so  it  is  to  spend 
 time  in  trifles.  J.  Mason. 
 
 TRINITY. 
 
 There    be    three   grand   principles;    life, 
 
 generation,  and  obedience ; 
 Shadowing  in  every  creature,  the  Spirit, 
 
 and  the  Father,  and  the  Son. 
 Thyself  hast  within  thyself  body,  and  life, 
 
 and  mind : 
 Matter,  and  breath,  and  instinct,  unite  in 
 
 all  beasts  of  the  field ; 
 Substance,  coherence  and  weight,  fashion 
 
 the  fabrics  of  the  earth  ; 
 The  will,  the  doing,  and  the  deed,  combine 
 
 to  frame  a  fact : 
 The  stem,  the  leaf,  and  the  flower :  begin-i 
 
 ning,  middle,  and  end ; 
 Cause,    circumstance,     consequent ;     and 
 
 every  three  in  one. 
 Yea   the  very  breath  of  man's  life  con- 
 
 sisteth  of  a  trinity  of  vapours. 
 And  the  noonday  light  is  a  compound,  the 
 
 triune  shadow  of  Jehovah.       Tupper. 
 
 TRINITY— Divine. 
 
 The  first  illustration  we  endeavour  to 
 give  in  this  is  taken  from  the  woi-ld  of 
 matter.  We  will  take  any  material  sub- 
 stance :  we  find  in  that  substance  qualities ; 
 we  will  say  three  qualities — colour,  shape, 
 and  size.  Colour  is  not  shape,  shape  is  not 
 size,  size  is  not  colour.  They  are  three  dis- 
 tinct essences,  three  distinct  qualities,  and 
 yet  they  all  form  one  unity,  one  single  con- 
 ception, one  idea — the  idea,  for  example,  of 
 a  tree.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 Now  we  will  ascend  from  that  into  the 
 immaterial  world ;  and  here  we  come  to 
 something  more  distinct  still.  Hitherto  we 
 have  had  but  three  qualities;  we  now 
 come  to  the  mind  of  man,  where  we  find 
 something  more  than  qualities.  We  will 
 take  three, — the  will,  the  affections,  the 
 thoughts  of  man.  His  will  is  not  his  affec- 
 tions, neither  are  his  affections  his 
 thoughts  ;  and  it  would  be  imperfect  and 
 incomplete  to  say  that  these  are  mere 
 qualities  in  the  man.  They  are  separate 
 consciousnesses,  living  consciousnesses,  as 
 distinct,  and  as  really  sundered  as  it  is 
 possible  for  these  things  to  be,  yet  bound 
 together  by  one  unity  of  consciousness. 
 Now  we  have  distincter  proof  than  even 
 this  that  these  things  are  three.  The  anato- 
 mist can  tell  you  that  the  localities  of 
 these  powers  are  different.  He  can  point 
 out  the  seat  of  the  nerve  of  sensation ;  he 
 can  localise  the  feeling  of  affection  ;  he  can 
 point  to  a  nerve  and  say,  "  There  resides 
 the  locality  of  thought." 
 
 There    are    three    distinct   localities  for 
 three  distinct  qualities,  personalities,  con- 
 sciousnesses ;  yet  all  these  three  are  one. 
 Ibid. 
 
 Once  more,  we  will  give  proof  even  be- 
 
TRINITY. 
 
 853 
 
 yond  all  that.  The  act  that  a  man  does  is 
 done  by  one  particular  part  of  that  man. 
 You  may  say  it  was  a  work  of  his  genius, 
 or  of  his  fancy ;  it  may  have  been  a  mani- 
 festation of  his  love,  or  an  exhibition  of  his 
 courage ;  yet  that  work  was  the  work  of 
 the  whole  man ;  his  courage,  his  intellect, 
 his  habits  of  perse vei-ance,  all  helped  to- 
 wards the  completion  of  that  single  work. 
 Just  in  this  way  certain  special  works  are 
 attributed  to  certain  personalities  of  the 
 Deity ;  the  work  of  redemption  being  at- 
 tributed to  one,  the  work  of  sanctification 
 to  another.  And  yet  just  as  the  whole 
 man  was  engaged  in  doing  that  work,  so 
 does  the  whole  Deity  perform  that  work 
 which  is  attributed  to  one  essential. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 TRINITY— General  Belief  of  a. 
 
 That  nearly  all  the  pagan  nations  of  an- 
 tiquity, in  their  various  theological  sys- 
 tems, acknowledged  a  kind  of  Trinity  in 
 the  Divine  nature,  has  been  fully  evinced  by 
 those  learned  men  who  have  made  the  hea- 
 then mythology  the  subject  of  their  elabo- 
 rate inquiries.  The  almost  universal  pre- 
 valence of  this  doctrine  in  the  gentile 
 kingdoms  must  be  considered  as  a  strong 
 argument  in  favour  of  its  truth.  The  doc- 
 trine itself  bears  such  striking  internal 
 marks  of  a  Divine  original,  and  is  so  very 
 unlikely  to  have  been  the  invention  of  mere 
 human  reason,  that  there  is  no  way  of  ac- 
 counting for  the  general  adoption  of  so 
 singular  a  belief,  but  by  supposing  that  it 
 was  revealed  by  God  to  the  early  patri- 
 archs, and  that  it  was  transmitted  by  them 
 to  their  posterity.  Bp.  Tomline. 
 
 TRINITY— Incomprehensible. 
 
 But  it  is  objected,  "  Whatever  becomes 
 of  the  text  (1  John  v,  7),  we  cannot  be- 
 lieve what  we  cannot  comprehend.  When, 
 therefore,  you  require  us  to  believe  mys- 
 teries, we  pray  you  to  have  us  excused." 
 
 Here  is  a  tv.'ofold  mistake.  1.  We  do  not 
 require  you  to  believe  any  mystery  in  this, 
 whereas,  you  suppose  the  contrary.  But, 
 2.  You  do  already  believe  many  things 
 you  cannot  comprehend. 
 
 To  begin  with  the  latter.  You  do  already 
 believe  many  things  that  you  cannot  com- 
 prehend. For  you  believe  there  is  a  sun 
 over  your  head.  But,  whether  he  stands 
 still  in  the  midst  of  his  system,  or  not  only 
 revolves  on  his  own  axis,  but  "  rejoices  as  a 
 giant  to  run  his  course ;"  you  cannot  com- 
 prehend either  the  one  or  the  other.  How 
 he  moves,  or  how  he  rests :  by  what 
 power, — natural,  mechanical  power, — is  he 
 upheld  in  the  fluid  ether?  You  cannot 
 deny  the  fact,  yet  you  cannot  account  for 
 it,  so  as  to  satisfy  any  rational  inquirer. 
 You  may,  indeed,  give  us  the  hypotheses 
 of  Ptolemy,  Tycho  Brahe,  Copernicus,  and 
 
 twenty  more.  I  have  read  them  over  and 
 over ;  I  am  sick  of  them  ;  I  care  not  three 
 straws  for  them  all. 
 
 Each  new  solution  but  once  more  affords 
 New  change  of  terms,  and  scaflbldiug  of 
 
 words. 
 In  other  garb  my  question  I  receive, 
 And  take  my  doubt  the  very  same  I  give. 
 
 Still  1  insist,  the  fact  you  believe  j  yoa 
 cannot  deny.  But  the  manner  you  cannot 
 comprehend. 
 
 You  believe  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
 light,  whether  flowing  from  the  sun  or 
 any  other  luminous  body.  But  you  cannot 
 comprehend  either  its  nature,  or  the  man- 
 ner wherein  it  flows.  How  does  it  move 
 from  Jupiter  to  the  earth  in  eight  minutes 
 — two  hundred  thousand  miles  in  a  mo- 
 ment ?  How  do  the  rays  of  the  candle 
 brought  into  the  room  instantly  disperse 
 into  every  corner  ?  Again ;  here  are 
 three  candles,  yet  there  is  but  one  light. 
 Explain  this,  and  I  will  explain  the  Three- 
 One  God. 
 
 You  believe  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
 air.     It  both  covers  you  as  a  garment,  and 
 
 Wide  interfused 
 
 Embraces  round  this  florid  earth. 
 
 But  can  you  comprehend  how  ?  Can  you 
 give  me  a  satisfactory  account  of  its  nature, 
 or  the  cause  of  its  properties?  Think 
 only  of  one — its  elasticity ;  can  you  account 
 for  this  ?  It  may  be  owing  to  electric  fire 
 attached  to  each  particle  of  it;  it  may 
 not;  and  neither  you  nor  I  can  tell.  But 
 if  we  will  not  breathe  it  till  we  can 
 comprehend  it,  our  life  is  very  near  its 
 period. 
 
 You  believe  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
 earth.  Here  you  fix  your  foot  upon  it. 
 You  are  supported  by  it.  But  do  you 
 comprehend  what  it  is  that  supports  the 
 earth  ?  "  0,  an  elephant,"  says  a  Mala- 
 barian  philosopher,  "  and  a  bull  supports 
 him."  But  what  supports  the  bull  ?  The 
 Indian  and  the  Briton  are  equally  at  a  loss 
 for  an  answer.  We  feel  it  is  God  that 
 "  spreadeth  the  north  over  the  empty 
 space,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon  no- 
 thing." This  is  the  fact.  But  how  ?  Who 
 can  account  for  this  ?  Perhaps  angelic,  but 
 no  human  creatures. 
 
 I  know  what  is  plausibly  said  concern- 
 ing the  powers  of  projection  and  attraction. 
 But  spin  as  fine  as  we  can,  matter  of  fact 
 sweeps  away  our  cobweb  hypothesis.  Con- 
 nect the  force  of  projection  and  attraction 
 how  you  can,  they  will  never  produce  a 
 circular  motion.  The  moment  the  pro- 
 jected steel  comes  within  the  attraction  of 
 the  magnet,  it  does  not  form  a  curve,  but 
 drops  down. 
 
 You  believe  you  have  a  soul.  "Hold 
 there,"  says  the  doctor;  "  I  believe  no  such 
 
854 
 
 TSINITY— TROUBLE. 
 
 thing.  If  yon  liave  an  immortal  soul,  so 
 have  the  brutes  too."  I  wlU  not  quarrel 
 ■with  any  that  think  they  have  ;  nay,  I  wish 
 he  could  prove  it.  And  surely  I  would 
 rather  allow  them  soiils  than  give  up  my 
 own.  In  this  I  cordially  concur  in  the  sen- 
 timent of  the  honest  heatlien,  Si  erro  li- 
 henter  erro ;  et  me  redargid  valde  reciisem. 
 If  I  err,  I  err  willingly  ;  and  I  vehemently 
 refuse  to  be  convinced  of  it.  And  I  trust 
 most  of  those  who  do  not  believe  a 
 Trinity  are  of  the  same  mind.  Permit  me, 
 then,  to  go  on.  You  believe  you  have  a 
 soul  connected  with  this  house  of  clay. 
 But  can  you  comprehend  how  ?  What  are 
 the  ties  that  unite  the  heavenly  flame  with 
 the  earthly  clod  ?  You  understand  j  ust 
 n<ithing  of  the  matter.  So  it  is :  but  how; 
 none  can  tell. 
 
 You  surely  believe  you  have  a  body  to- 
 gether with  your  soul,  and  that  each  is  de- 
 pendent on  the  other.  Run  only  a  tliorn 
 into  your  hand,  immediately  pain  is  felt  in 
 the  soul.  On  the  other  hand,  is  shame  felt 
 in  your  soul?  Instantly  a  blush  over- 
 spreads your  cheek.  Does  the  soul  feel  fear 
 or  violent  anger  ?  Presently  the  body 
 trembles.  These  also  are  facts  which  you 
 cannot  deny,  nor  can  you  account  for  them. 
 
 I  bring  but  one  instance  more.  At  the 
 command  of  your  soul,  your  hand  is  lifted 
 up.  But  who  is  able  to  account  for  this  ? — 
 for  the  connection  between  the  actions  of 
 the  mind  and  the  outward  actions  ?  Nay, 
 who  can  account  for  muscular  motion  at 
 all,  in  any  instance  of  it  whatever  ?  When 
 one  of  the  most  ingenious  physicians  in 
 England  had  finished  his  lecture  on  that 
 head  he  added,  "Now,  gentlemen,  I  have 
 told  you  all  the  discoveries  of  our  en- 
 lighted  age.  And  now,  if  you  understand 
 one  jot  of  the  matter,  you  understand  more 
 than  I  do." 
 
 The  short  of  the  matter  is  this;  those 
 who  will  not  believe  anything  but  what 
 they  can  comprehend,  must  not  believe 
 that  there  is  a  sun  in  the  firmament,  that 
 there  is  even  light  shining  around  them, 
 that  there  is  air,  though  it  encompasses 
 them  on  every  side ;  that  there  is  any 
 earth,  though  they  stand  upon  it.  They 
 must  not  believe  that  they  have  a 
 soul,  no,  nor  that  they  have  a  body. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 TRINITY— Proof  of  the. 
 
 The  trinity  of  persons  may  be  proved 
 out  of  Matt,  iii,  16  :  "  Jesus,  when  He  was 
 baptized,  went  up  straightway  out  of  the 
 water,  and  He  saw  the  Spirit  of  God  de- 
 scending like  a  dove,  and  lighting  upon 
 Him  ;  and,  lo,  a  voice  from  heaven  saying, 
 '  This  is  my  beloved  Son.' "  Here  are 
 three  names  given  to  the  three  persons. 
 He  who  spake  with  a  voice  from  heaven 
 was  God  the  Father;   He  who  was    bap- 
 
 tised in  Jordan  was  God  the  Son ;  He  who 
 descended  in  the  likeness  of  a  dove,  was  God 
 the  Holy  Ghost.  T.  Watson. 
 
 TRINITY — The  Three  Persons  in  the. 
 
 The  three  persons  in  the  blessed  Trinity 
 are  distinguished,  but  not  divided;  three 
 substances,  but  one  essence.  This  is  a  Di- 
 vine riddle,  where  one  makes  three,  and 
 thi-ee  make  but  one.  Our  narrow  thoughts 
 can  no  more  comprehend  the  Trinity  in 
 Unity,  than  a  little  nutshell  will  hold  all 
 the  water  in  the  sea.  Let  me  shadow  it 
 out  by  this  similitude^:  in  the  body  of  the 
 sun  there  is  the  substance  of  the  sun,  the 
 beams,  and  the  heat ;  the  beams  are  begot- 
 ten of  the  sun,  the  heat  proceeds  both  from 
 the  sun  and  the  beams ;  but  these  three, 
 though  diiferent,  are  not  divided ;  they  all 
 three  make  hwt  one  sun ;  so  in  the  blessed 
 Trinity,  the  Son  is  begotten  of  the  Father, 
 the  Holy  Ghost  proceeds  from  both ;  yet 
 though  they  are  three  distinct  persons,  yet 
 but  one  God.  T.  Watsott, 
 
 TRINITY  IN  UNITY. 
 
 The  light  of  the  sun,  the  light  of  the 
 moon,  and  the  light  of  the  air,  in  nature 
 and  substance  are  one  and  the  same  light, 
 and  yet  they  are  three  distinct  lights :  the 
 light  of  the  sun  being  of  itself,  and  from 
 none;  the  light  of  the  moon  from  the  sun; 
 and  the  light  of  the  air  from  them  both. 
 So  the  Divine  Nature  is  one,  and  the  Per- 
 sons three ;  subsisting,  after  a  diverse  man- 
 ner in  the  one  and  the  same  nature. 
 
 /S^eHcer. 
 
 TROUBLE— Borrowing. 
 
 When  we  borrow  trouble,  and  look  for- 
 ward into  the  future  and  see  what  storms 
 are  coming,  and  distress  ourselves  before 
 they  come,  as  to  how  we  shall  avert  them 
 if  they  ever  do  come,  we  lose  our  proper 
 trustfulness  in  God.  When  we  torment 
 ourselves  with  imaginary  dangers,  or  trials 
 or  reverses,  we  have  already  parted  with 
 that  pefect  love  which  casteth  out  fear. 
 Mothers  sometimes  fret  themselves  and  are 
 •  made  miserable  about  the  future  career  of 
 their  children,  whether  they  will  turn  out 
 drunkards  or  not;  whether  they  will  go 
 to  the  gallows  or  not;  whether  they  will 
 be  a  disgrace  to  their  pai-entage  or  not. 
 Now  all  this  is  simply  an  evidence  of  a  lack 
 of  ftiith.  There  are  many  persons  in  good 
 health  with  all  their  faculties  in  active  ex- 
 ercise, who,  having  nothing  else  to  worry 
 about,  rob  themselves  of  sleep  at  night  by 
 thinking,  if  they  should  suddenly  be  taken 
 away  what  would  become  of  their  families, 
 and  who  would  take  care  of  their  children  ? 
 Such  distrust  of  God  is  dishonorable  to 
 Christian  men,  and  it  is  because  of  His 
 exceeding  patience,  which  is  the  most  won- 
 
TROUBLE. 
 
 855 
 
 derful  attribute  of  the  Divine  nature — 
 that  He  does  not  signally  rebuke  and  pun- 
 ish it  whenever  it  is  manifested. 
 
 S.  W.  BeecTier. 
 
 TEOUBLE— Discipline  of. 
 
 It  is  a  beneficent  arrangement  of  Pro- 
 vidence, that,  "  the  Divinity  which  shapes 
 onr  ends "  weaves  our  sorrows  into  ele- 
 ments of  character,  and  that  all  the  disap- 
 pointments and  conflicts  to  which  the  living 
 are  subject — the  afflictions,  physical  and 
 mental,  personal  and  relative,  which  are  the 
 common  lot,  may,  rightly  used,  become 
 the  means  of  improvement,  and  create  in 
 us  sinews  of  strength.  Trouble  is  a  mar- 
 vellous mortifier  of  pride,  and  an  effectual 
 restralner  of  self-will.  DifBculties  string 
 up  the  energies  to  loftier  effort,  and  in- 
 tensity is  gained  from  repression.  By 
 sorrow  the  temper  is  mellowed,  and  the 
 feeling  is  refined.  When  suffering  has 
 broken  up  the  soil,  and  made  the  furrows 
 soft,  there  can  be  implanted  the  hardy  vir- 
 tues which  out-brave  the  storm.  In  short, 
 trial  is  God's  glorious  alchymistry,  by 
 which  the  dross  is  left  in  the  crucible,  the 
 baser  metals  are  transmuted,  and  the 
 character  is  riched  with  the  gold. 
 
 W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 TROUBLE— God's  Favour  in. 
 
 If  the  sun  of  God's  countenance  shine 
 upon  me,  I  may  well  be  content  to  be  wet 
 with  some  rain  in  affliction.  How  oft  have  I 
 seen  the  heaven  overcast  with  clouds  and 
 tempest ;  no  sun  appearing  to  comfort  me, 
 yet  even  these  gloomy  seasons  have  I 
 rid  patiently,  only  with  the  help  of  the 
 common  light  of  the  day.  At  last,  those 
 beams  have  broken  forth  happily,  and 
 cheered  my  soul.  J3^.  Hall. 
 
 TROUBLE— Jesus  with  us  in. 
 
 When  waves  of  trouble  round  me  swell. 
 
 My  soul,  be  not  dismayed ; 
 But  hear  a  voice  thou  know'st  full  well — 
 
 "  'Tis  I,  be  not  afraid." 
 
 When  black  the  threat'ning  clouds  appear 
 _  And  storms  my  path  invade, 
 That  voice  shall  tranquillise  each  fear — 
 "  'Tis  I,  be  not  afraid." 
 
 There  is  a  gulf  that  must  be  cross' d, 
 
 Saviour !  be  near  to  aid  ! 
 Whisper,  when  my  frail  bark  is  toss'd — 
 
 "  'Tis  I,  be  not  afraid." 
 
 There  is  a  dark  and  fearful  vale, 
 Death  hides  within  its  shade  ; 
 
 Oh  !  say,  when  flesh  and  heart  shall  fail — 
 "  'Tis  I,  be  not  afraid."  Anon. 
 
 TROUBLE— Man  Born  to. 
 
 A  brief  view  of  the  history  of  each  man 
 ebovvs  this.   As  soon  as  he  comes  into  life  he 
 
 comes  into  a  troublesome  world.  As  soon 
 as  he  begins  to  walk  he  walks  into  trouble 
 by  stumbles,  falls,  bruises.  As  soon  as  he 
 begins  to  talk  he  finds  trouble  it  may  be  from 
 angry,  passionate,  and  untruthful  words. 
 As  soon  as  he  goes  to  school  he  gets  into 
 trouble  about  his  lessons,  late  attendance, 
 negligence;  with  other  boys,  in  competi- 
 tion, quarrelling,  tale-bearing.  As  soon  as 
 he  goes  apprentice  he  gets  into  trouble; 
 when  he  marries,  he  finds  fresh  trouble; 
 when  he  goes  into  business,  trouble  meets 
 him  there;  wlien  he  comes  to  old  age, 
 trouble  does  not  forsake  him.  If  he  thinks 
 that  by  changing  his  residence,  his  country, 
 his  occupation,  he  shall  avoid  trouble,  he 
 will  prove  by  sad  experience  that  that  is 
 no  preventive.  Let  him  go  fj-om  the 
 country  to  the  city,  and  he  will  find  trouble 
 awaiting  him  in  the  city.  Let  him  end- 
 grate  from  England  to  Australia,  and  he  will 
 see  trouble  standing  ready  to  receive  him  in 
 the  new  country ;  nay,  he  may  meet  with 
 more  trouble  even  in  his  passage,  than  he 
 experienced  in  all  his  sojourn  in  his  native 
 land.  Let  him  exchange  the  place  of  ser- 
 vant for  that  of  master  ;  the  circumstance 
 of  poverty  for  that  of  wealth,  and  in  the 
 one  as  the  other  he  shall  find  the  posi- 
 tive proof  in  himself  that  man  is  born  to 
 trouble.  There  is  only  one  place  free  from 
 trouble,  and  that  is  heaven.  He  that  is 
 born  into  that  country  shall  escape  all 
 trouble  for  ever,  for  there  "  God  shall  wipe 
 away  all  tears  from  his  eyes;  and  there 
 shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor 
 crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more 
 pain,  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away" 
 (Rev.  xxi,  4).  John  Bate. 
 
 Men  are  born  to  trouble  at  first  and 
 exercised  in  it  all  their  days.  There  is  a 
 cry  at  the  beginning  of  life,  and  a  groan 
 at  its  close.  Avnot. 
 
 TROUBLE— Peace  in. 
 
 The  mighty  wind  which  blows  over  and 
 about  the  fruit  tree  of  the  garden  does  not 
 apparently  affect  the  roots  and  lower  part 
 of  the  trunk.  They  abide  in  peace.  All 
 it  does  is  to  shake  the  branches,  break  off 
 the  rotten  ones,  blow  away  the  dead  leaves, 
 and  shake  off  the  ripe  fruit  for  use.  So 
 when  trouble  comes  from  God,  the  soul 
 maintains  the  roots  of  its  faith  and  love  in 
 the  Rock  of  Ages  unmoved.  All  that  it  does 
 is  to  destroy  what  is  superfluous  and  cor- 
 rupt about  us,  and  to  draw  from  us  the 
 manifestation  of  the  graces  of  the  Sjiirit 
 for  the  practical  use  of  others  and  the  com- 
 mendation of  the  Saviour's  religion.  Our 
 heart  is  kept  in  peace.  John  Bate. 
 
 TROUBLE— Resignation  in. 
 
 Did  you  never  see  the  lily  as  it  stands 
 
853 
 
 TROUBLE— TEUST  IN  GOD. 
 
 in  the  garuen  in  the  summer  ?  God  sends 
 it  the  pure  sunsliine,  and  it  seems  to  rejoice 
 in  his  warm  beams.  He  sends  it  the  cool- 
 ing dews,  and  it  seems  to  drink  in  their 
 sweetness  like  milk.  The  clouds  gather, 
 the  storm  rages,  the  rain  pours  down,  the 
 wind  sweeps  along.  See  !  the  lily  has  shut 
 up  its  blossoms,  and  folds  its  leaves,  and 
 meekly  bows  its  head,  and  it  bends  to  the 
 wind,  and  asks  uo  eyes  to  gaze  on  it  while 
 the  storm  lasts.  God  has  taught  it  to  do 
 thus,  till  the  smile  shall  again  follow  the 
 tempest.  It  is  not  injured.  It  opens  and 
 smiles  again.  So  does  God  teach  the  good. 
 The  Christian  thus  is  glad  when  blessed ; 
 and  when  troubles  and  sorrows  come,  he 
 meekly  bows  and  waits  till  God  remembers 
 him,  and  removes  the  storm. 
 
 Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 TROUBLE— Thankfulness  in. 
 
 A  Christian  sailor,  who  lost  one  of  his 
 legs  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  said  that  he 
 could  very  often  measure  the  faith  of  the 
 people  wlio  conversed  with  him,  by  the 
 way  in  which  they  alluded  to  his  misfor- 
 tune. Nine  out  of  ten  would  exclaim, 
 "  What  a  pity  that  you  lost  your  leg  !" 
 and  only  one  in  ten,  "  What  a  blessing  that 
 the  otlier  was  preserved !"  When  God 
 comes  into  the  family  and  takes  away  one 
 child,  instead  of  complaining  because  He 
 has  taken  one,  it  would  be  wiser  to  thank 
 Him  that  He  has  left  the  rest.  Or 
 He  may  crush  a  man's  business,  and  strip 
 him  of  all  his  worldly  wealth,  and  yet 
 leave  untouched  and  uniuvaded  what  is 
 dearer  than  all — the  cradle  of  his  only 
 child.  Would  it  not  be  nobler  for  such  a 
 man  to  be  thankful  for  what  God  left  than 
 to  murmur  for  what  He  took  away  ? 
 "  The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord  taketh 
 away,"  but  He  always  gives  more  than  He 
 takes  away.  If  God  robs  a  man  of  his 
 riches,  He  leaves  hira  his  health,  which  is 
 better  than  riches.  If  He  takes  health  He 
 leaves  wealth.  If  He  takes  both  He  leaves 
 friends.  And  if  He  takes  all  these 
 — house,  and  home,  and  worldly  goods, 
 God's  providence  is  not  yet  exhausted,  and 
 He  can  make  blessings  out  of  other  things 
 which  remain.  He  never  strips  a  man 
 entirely  bare.  A  man  may  be  left  a  beggar 
 upon  the  highway,  and  yet  be  able  to  give 
 increasing  testimony  to  God's  goodness 
 aiid  grace  !  JS.  W.  Beeclier. 
 
 TROUBLES— become  Blessings. 
 
 The  flinty  soil  indeed  their  feet  annoys. 
 Chill  blasts  of  trouble  nip  their  springing 
 
 joys; 
 An  envious  world  will  interpose  its  frown, 
 To  mar  delights  superior  to  its  own  ; 
 And  many  a  pang  experienc'd  still  within. 
 Reminds  them  of  their  hated  inmate,  sin ; 
 
 But  ills  of  every  shape  and  ev'ry  name, 
 Transform'd  to  blessings,  miss  their  cruel 
 
 aim  ; 
 And  ev'ry  moment's  calm  that  soothes  the 
 
 breast. 
 Is  given  in  earnest  of  eternal  rest. 
 
 Co%oj}er- 
 
 TROUBLES— Chased  by. 
 
 You  can  imagine  thistle-down  so  light 
 that  when  you  run  after  it  your  running 
 motion  would  drive  it  away  from  you,  and 
 that  the  more  you  tried  to  catch  it  the 
 faster  it  would  fly  from  your  grasp.  And 
 it  should  be  with  every  man,  that  when  he 
 is  chased  by  troubles,  they,  chasing,  shall 
 raise  him  higher  and  higher. 
 
 R.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 TROUBLES— Use  of. 
 
 Troubles  are  often  the  tools  by  which 
 God  fashions  us  for  better  things.  Far  up 
 the  mountain  side  lies  a  block  of  granite, 
 and  saj's  to  itself,  "  How  happy  am  I  in 
 my  serenity^ — above  the  winds,  above  the 
 trees,  almost  above  the  flight  of  the  birds  ! 
 Here  I  rest,  age  after  age,  and  nothing 
 disturbs  me."  Yet  what  is  it  ?  It  is  only 
 a  bare  block  of  granite,  jutting  out  of  the 
 clifl",  and  its  happiness  is  the  happiness  of 
 death. 
 
 By  and  by  comes  the  miner,  and  with 
 strong  and  repeated  strokes  he  drills  a  hole 
 in  its  top,  and  the  rock  says,  "  What  does 
 this  mean  ?"  Then  the  black  powder  is 
 poured  in,  and  with  a  blast  that  makes  the 
 mountain  echo,  the  block  is  blown  asunder, 
 and  goes  crashing  down  into  the  valley. 
 "  Ah !"  it  exclaims  as  it  falls,  "  why  this 
 rending  ?"  Then  come  saws  to  cut  and 
 fashion  it;  and  humbled  now,  and  willing 
 to  be  nothing,  it  is  borne  away  from  the 
 mountain  and  conveyed  to  the  city.  Now 
 it  is  chiselled  and  polished,  till,  at  length, 
 finished  in  beauty,  by  block  and  tackle  it  is 
 raised,  with  mighty  hoistings,  high  in  air, 
 to  be  the  top-stone  on  some  monument  of 
 the  country's  glory. 
 
 So  God  Almighty  casts  a  man  down 
 when  He  wants  to  chisel  him,  and  the 
 chiselling  is  always  to  make  him  something 
 finer  and  better  than  he  was  before. 
 
 S.  W.  BeecJier. 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD. 
 
 Let  us  learn,  as  Luther  did,  who,  looking 
 out  of  his  window  one  summer  evening, 
 saw,  on  a  tree  at  hand,  a  little  bird  making 
 his  brief  and  easy  dispositions  for  a  night's 
 rest.  "  Look,"  said  he,  "  how  that  little 
 fellow  preaches  faith  to  us  all.  He  takes 
 hold  of  his  twig,  tucks  his  head  under  his 
 wing,  and  goes  to  sleep,  leaving  God  to 
 tidnk  Jar  him," 
 
 F.  B.  Pvtvcr. 
 
TRUST  IN  GOD— TRUTH. 
 
 857 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD. 
 
 Thus  ever  in  the  steps  of  grief 
 
 Are  sown  the  precious  seeds  of  joy  j 
 Each  fount  of  Marah  hath  a  leaf, 
 
 Whose  healing  balm  we  may  employ. 
 Then  'mid  life's  fitful,  fleeting  day. 
 
 Look  up  !  the  sky  is  bright  above  ! 
 Kind  voices  cheer  tliee  on  thy  way  ! 
 
 Faint  spirit !     Trust  the  God  of  love  ! 
 
 Woodbridge. 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD— shows  Faith. 
 
 The  trial  of  feith  is  by  finding  what  we 
 will  do  for  God.  To  trust  Him  when  we 
 have  securities  in  our  own  iron  chest  is 
 easy,  and  not  thankworthy.  But  to  de- 
 pend on  Him  for  what  we  cannot  see,  as  it 
 is  more  hard  for  man  to  do,  so  it  is  more 
 acceptable  to  God  when  done,  for  in  that 
 act  we  make  confession  of  His  deity. 
 
 Feltham. 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD— Grounds  for. 
 
 When  Martin  Luther  was  writing  to 
 his  friend,  the  chancellor,  at  the  diet  of 
 Augsburgh,  you  know  many  reformers  at 
 the  time  had  their  minds  filled  with  great 
 anxieties — Melancthon  was  very  fearful — 
 and  many  of  the  Protestant  princes  were 
 fearful,  too ;  but  glorious  Luther,  bis  heart 
 was  stout  as  a  castle  wall.  He  trusted  in 
 the  Lord  his  God ;  nothing  made  him 
 afraid ;  and  he  wrote,  as  I  tell  you,  to  the 
 chancellor  a  letter,  in  which  he  says,  "  I 
 fear  not,  and  why  should  I  fear  ?  I  have 
 seen  two  miracles  lately.  I  looked  up, 
 and  saw  the  clouds  above  me  in  the  noon- 
 tide; and  they  looked  like  the  sea  that 
 was  hanging  over  me,  and  I  could  see  no 
 cord  on  which  they  suspended,  and  yet 
 they  never  fell.  And  then  when  the  noon- 
 tide had  gone  and  the  midnight  came,  I 
 looked  again,  and  there  was  the  dome  of 
 heaven,  and  it  was  spangled  with  stars, 
 and  I  could  see  no  pillars  that  held  up  the 
 skies,  and  yet  they  never  fell.  Now  He 
 that  holds  the  stars  up  and  moves  the 
 clouds  in  their  course,  He  can  do  all  things, 
 and  I  trust  Him  in  the  sight  of  these 
 miracles."  C.  Coley. 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD— in  Persecution. 
 
 The  blows  by  which  people  are  endea- 
 vouring to  subvert  the  house  of  God,  are 
 so  rude,  and  the  assaults  made  upon  it  are 
 so  frequent  that  it  is  not  only  the  winds 
 and  the  rain  that  beat  upon  it,  according 
 to  our  Lord's  prediction,  but  hail  and 
 lightning.  Had  I  not  perceived  that  the 
 Lord  was  preserving  the  vessel,  I  should 
 long  ago  have  thrown  the  helm  into  the 
 sea.  I  behold  Him  through  the  tempest, 
 strengthening  the  cordage,  adjusting  the 
 yards,  spreading  the  sails ;  what  do  I  say  ? 
 commanding  the  very  winds,     .... 
 
 should  I  not  then  be  a  coward  unworthy 
 of  the  name  of  man  were  I  to  abandon  my 
 post  in  order  to  find  a  shameful  death  in 
 flight?  I  commit  myself  wholly  to  His 
 sovereign  goodness ;  let  Him  govern,  let 
 Him  transport,  let  Him  hasten,  let  Him 
 delay,  let  Him  accelerate,  let  Him  retard, 
 let  Him  even  plunge  us  into  the  bottom  of 
 the  abyss,  we  will  fear  nothing;  we  are 
 earthen  vessels  that  belong  to  Him.  He 
 can  employ  us  in  His  service  according  to 
 His  good  pleasure,  whether  for  honour  or 
 dishonour.  Zwingle. 
 
 TRUST  IN  GOD— Safety  of. 
 
 At  one  time,  when  a  pious  minister  of 
 the  Gospel  was  passing  over  a  hill,  a  lark, 
 pursued  by  a  hawk,  took  refuge  in  his 
 bosom ;  he  kindly  lodged  the  little  refugee, 
 till,  having  reached  a  considerable  distance 
 from  its  persecutor,  he  gave  it  liberty  to 
 soar  and  sing  in  safety.  The  circumstance 
 suggested  to  his  mind  a  train  of  happy 
 thoughts,  which  he  brought  forward  in  a 
 discourse  from  Psalm  xxxiv,  22 :  "  The 
 Lord  redeemeth  the  soul  of  His  servantsi ; 
 and  none  of  them  that  trust  in  Him  shall 
 be  desolate."  Whitecross. 
 
 TRUTH— Aspects  of. 
 
 Truth  in  itself  is  like  the  light  shining 
 direct  from  the  sun ;  but  in  the  aspects  of 
 it  as  seen  reflected  from  the  minds  of  men 
 it  assumes  ditt'erent  colours  and  represent- 
 ations, the  same  as  the  sun's  light  when  it 
 shines  upon  objects  through  diS"erent 
 coloured  mediums.  Suppose  there  are  as 
 many  coloured  windows  in  a  room  as  there 
 are  colours  in  the  rainbow,  there  will  be 
 as  many  reflections  of  the  one  light  as 
 there  are  colours.  It  is  so  with  truth ; 
 one  truth  or  one  system  of  truth  may  be 
 received  by  various  minds,  and  those  minds 
 differing  in  the  educational  or  ecclesiastical 
 colouring  of  them  shall  present  as  many 
 various  appearances  of  the  one  truth  or 
 one  system  of  truths,  which  shines  alike  on 
 all.  The  ditt'erence  is  simply  in  the  re- 
 flecting medium.  For  the  want  of  this 
 understanding  of  the  matter,  many  would 
 say  that  there  is  contradiction  in  the  truth ; 
 whereas,  if  there  is  contradiction,  it  is 
 exclusively  in  the  aspects  given  by  the 
 various  mediums;  but  even  these  apparent 
 contradictions  in  the  aspects,  might  all 
 disai32)ear  by  blending  them  all  in  one; 
 just  as  all  colours,  mixed  and  properly 
 combined,  constitute  the  pure  harmonious 
 white  light  of  the  heavens.         John  Bate. 
 
 TRUTH— Characteristics  of. 
 
 Truth  is  the  most  glorious  thing ;  the 
 least  filing  of  this  gold  is  precious.  Truth 
 is  ancient;  its  gray  hairs  may  make  it 
 venerable  ;  it  comes  from  Him  who  is  the 
 Ancient  of  Days.     Truth  is  unerring ;  it  is 
 
8S8 
 
 TEUTH. 
 
 the  st:ir  which  leads  to  Christ.  Truth  is 
 pure  (Psa.  cxix,  110);  it  is  compared  to 
 silver  refined  seven  times  (Psa.  xii,  6). 
 There  is  not  the  least  spot  on  truth's  face ; 
 it  breaths  nothing  but  sanctity.  Truth  is 
 triumphant ;  it  is  like  a  great  conqueror ; 
 when  all  its  enemies  lie  dead,  it  keeps  the 
 field,  and  sets  up  its  trophies  of  victory. 
 Truth  may  be  opposed  but  never  quite 
 deposed.  In  the  time  of  Diocletian,  things 
 seemed  desperate,  truth  ran  low :  soon 
 after  was  the  golden  time  of  Constautius, 
 and  then  truth  did  again  lift  up  its  head. 
 When  the  water  in  the  Thames  is  lowest, 
 a  hijih  tide  is  ready  to  come  in.  God  is  on 
 truth's  side,  and  so  long  there  is  no  fear 
 but  it  will  prevail.  "  The  heavens  being 
 on  fire  shall  be  dissolved  "  (2  Peter  iii,  12), 
 but  not  that  truth  which  crime  from 
 heaven  (1  Peter  i,  25).  T.  Watson. 
 
 TEUTH— Common-Place. 
 
 Common-place  truth  is  of  no  use,  as  it 
 makes  no  impression ;  it  is  no  more  in- 
 struction than  ivind  is  music.  The  truth 
 must  take  a  particular  bearing,  as  the  wind 
 must  pass  through  tubes,  to  be  anything 
 worth.  J.  Foster. 
 
 TEUTH— Condescension  of. 
 
 "  When  He  was  come  down  from  the 
 mountain,  great  multitudes  followed  Him." 
 Only  a  few  select  souls  can  follow  the 
 Truth  up  its  own  mountain  height.  But 
 Truth  is  meek  and  lowly,  and  comes  down 
 to  tne  multitudes.  J.  PuliJ'urd. 
 
 TEUTH— Credibility  of. 
 
 There  is  an  inward  state  of  heart  which 
 makes  truth  credible  the  moment  it  is 
 stated.  It  is  credible  to  some  men  because 
 of  what  they  are.  Love  is  credible  to  a 
 loving  heart ;  purity  is  credible  to  a  pure 
 mind ;  life  is  credible  to  a  spirit  in  which, 
 ever,  life  beats  strongly ;  it  is  incredible  to 
 other  men.  F.  W.  Rolertson. 
 
 TEUTH— Definitions  of. 
 
 Truth  is  a  mirror  which  reflects  objects 
 that  pass  before  it,  without  addition,  dimi- 
 nution, or  alteration  in  any  sense  or  degree 
 whatsoever.  It  is  a  pure,  crystal  stream, 
 wliich  shows  in  her  depths  the  exact  image 
 of  things  as  they  may  stand  on  her  banks. 
 John  Bate. 
 
 Truth  is  the  joining  or  separating  of 
 signs,  as  the  things  signified  agree  or  dis- 
 agree. LocTce. 
 
 TEUTH— Description  of. 
 
 Truth,  the  mother  of  virtue,  is  painted 
 in  garments  as  white  as  snow ;  her  looks 
 are  serene,  pleasant,  courteous,  cheerful, 
 and  yet  modest ;  she  is  the  pledge  of  all 
 honesty,  the  bulwark  of  honour,  the  light 
 
 and  joy  of  human  society.  She  is  com- 
 monly accounted  the  daughter  of  Time,  or 
 Saturn;  because  truth  is  discovered  in 
 the  course  of  time ;  but  Democritus  feigns 
 that  she  lies  hid  in  the  bottom  of  a  well. 
 
 Andrew  Tooke. 
 
 TEUTH— Discovering. 
 
 If  Archimedes,  upon  the  discovery  of  a 
 i"nathematical  truth,  was  so  ravished,  that 
 he  cried  out,  "  I  have  found  it,  I  have 
 found  it,"  what  pleasure  must  the  discovery 
 of  a  Divine  truth  give  to  a  sanctified  soul ! 
 "  Thy  words  were  found  of  me,"  says 
 Jeremiah,  "  and  I  did  eat  them ;  and  Thy 
 word  was  to  me  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of 
 my  heart."  Truth  lies  deep,  as  the  rich 
 veins  of  gold  do:  if  we  will  get  the 
 treasure,  we  must  not  only  beg,  but  dig 
 also.  J.  Fletcher. 
 
 TEUTH— Distortion  of. 
 
 Concave  mirrors  magnify  the  features 
 nearest  to  them  into  undue  and  monstrous 
 l)ropoi"tions ;  and  in  common  mirrors  that 
 are  ill  cast,  and  of  uneven  surface,  the 
 most  beautiful  face  is  distorted  into  de- 
 formity. So  there  are  many  minds  of  this 
 description,  they  distort  and  magnify, 
 diminish  or  discolour,  almost  every  Gospel 
 truth  which  they  reflect.         Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 TEUTH— Duration  of. 
 
 Truth,  crush'd  to  earth,  shall  rise  again, — 
 
 The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 
 But  eri'or,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 
 
 And  dies  among  his  worshippers. 
 
 W.  a  Bryant. 
 
 TEUTH— Force  of. 
 
 For  my  own  part,  I  am  fully  persuaded 
 that  the  most  powerful  goddess,  and  one 
 that  rules  mankind  with  the  most  authori- 
 tative sway,  is  Truth.  For  though  she  is 
 resisted  by  all  and  oftentimes  has  drawn 
 up  against  her  the  plausibilities  of  falsehood 
 in  the  subtlest  forms,  she  triumphs  over  all 
 opposition.  I  know  not  how  it  is  that  she, 
 by  her  own  unadorned  charms,  forces  her- 
 self into  the  heart  of  man.  At  times  her 
 power  is  instantly  felt;  at  other  times, 
 though  obscured  for  a  while,  she  at  last 
 bursts  forth  in  meridian  splendour,  and 
 conquers  by  her  innate  force  the  falsehood 
 with  which  she  had  been  oppressed. 
 
 Bolyhus, 
 
 TEUTH— Habit  of  Cultivating. 
 
 Take  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
 the  habit  of  cultivating  truth  is  got.  Two 
 boys  see  a  misshapen,  hideous  object  in  the 
 dark.  One  goes  up  to  the  cause  of  his 
 terror,  examines  it,  learns  what  it  is ;  he 
 knows  the  truth,  and  the  truth  has  made 
 him  free.  The  other  leaves  it  in  mystery 
 and  unexplained  vagueness,  and  is  a  slave 
 
TRUTH. 
 
 for  life  to  superstitions  and  indefinite 
 terrors.  Romance,  prettiness,  "  dim  re- 
 ligious light,"  awe  and  mystery — these  are 
 not  the  atmosphere  of  Christ's  Gospel  of 
 liberty.  Base  the  heart  on  facts.  The 
 truth  can  only  make  you  free. 
 
 F.  W.  Eolertson. 
 
 TEUTH— Humiliation  of, 
 
 Divine  truth  hath  its  liumiUatlon  and 
 examination,  as  well  as  its  exaltation. 
 Divine  truth  becomes  many  times  in  Scrip- 
 ture incarnate,  debasiug  itself  to  assume 
 our  rude  conceptions,  that  so  it  might  con- 
 verse more  freely  with  us.  If  God  should 
 speak  in  the  language  of  eternity,  who 
 could  understand  Him,  or  interpret  His 
 meaning?  or  if  he  should  have  declared 
 His  truth  to  us,  only  in  a  way  of  the 
 purest  abstraction  that  human  souls  are 
 capable  of,  how  should  then  the  more  rude 
 and  illiterate  sort  of  men  have  been  able 
 to  apprehend  it  ?  Truth  is  content,  when 
 it  comes  into  the  world,  to  wear  our 
 mantles,  to  learn  our  language,  to  conforiii 
 itself  as  it  were,  to  our  dress  and  fashions ; 
 it  aflects  not  that  state,  or  fastits,  which 
 the  disdainful  rhetorician  sets  out  his  style 
 withal —?^o»  Tarentlnis  aut  Siciilis  Jicec 
 scriiimus ;  but  it  speaks  with  the  most 
 idiotical  sort  of  men  in  the  most  idiotical 
 way,  and  becomes  all  things  to  all  men,  as 
 every  sou  of  truth  should  do,  for  their 
 good.  John  Smith. 
 
 TSUTH— Indescribable. 
 
 It  is  not  in  the  power 
 Of  painting  or  of  sculpture  to  express 
 Aught  so  divine  as  the  fiiir  foi-m  of  Truth  ! 
 The  creatures  of  their  art  may  catch  the 
 
 eye. 
 But  her  sweet  nature  captivates  the  soul. 
 Cumberland. 
 
 TEUTH— Light  of. 
 
 As  the  sun  shining  upon  a  man's  face 
 discovers  all  the  wens,  warts,  and  blotches 
 that  may  be  upon  it,  so  the  light  of  truth 
 shining  into  the  sinner's  heart,  reveals  to 
 lilm  all  the  evil  desires,  thoughts,  feelings, 
 and  everything  else,  which  may  lie  con- 
 cealed therein.  John  Bate. 
 
 I  have  noticed  at  a  railway  station  the 
 porter  with  a  lantern  bright  and  polished 
 inside,  casting  forth  a  most  brilliant  white 
 light,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  he  has  turned 
 the  glass  and  the  inside  polish  has  dis- 
 appeared, and  the  pure  brilliant  light  has 
 exchanged  into  a  dull  red  or  heavy  green. 
 How  often  in  looking  at  the  truth  of  the 
 Scripture  in  itself,  we  see  the  beauty, 
 purity,  and  force  of  it ;  but  when  the  mind 
 of  man  is  turned  over  it,  with  his  prejudices 
 of  education,  family  religion,  position  in 
 life,  &c.,  how  often  do  we  see  the  internal 
 
 excellencies  and  the  pure  heaven-inspired 
 light,  exchanged  into  nothing  but  the 
 reflection  of  the  turned-on  glass, 
 
 John  Bate, 
 TEUTH— Love  of. 
 
 The  love  of  truth  is  the  love  of  realities ; 
 the  determination  to  rest  upon  facts,  and 
 not  on  semblances.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 TEUTH— Perception  of. 
 
 To  perceive  truth  by  its  proper  evidence, 
 is  of  the  formal  nature  of  the  rational 
 mind;  as  it  is  of  the  physical  nature  of 
 the  eye  to  see  an  object  by  the  light  that 
 it  reflects,  or  of  the  ear  to  hear  the  sounds 
 which  the  air  conveys  to  it.     Bp.  Horsle^j. 
 
 TEUTH— Power  of. 
 
 A  Roman  gentleman  once  kept  off  a 
 whole  band  of  soldiers  who  were  sent  to 
 murder  him,  by  his  eloquence,  which  was 
 stronger  than  their  anger  or  design ;  such 
 is  truth  in  her  influence  upon  those  who 
 seek  to  murder  her,  when  they  listen  to 
 her  charming  voice.  Anon. 
 
 TEUTH— Profound  and  Simple. 
 
 The  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  whilst  in  one 
 view  of  it,  so  profound  that  the  highest 
 archangel's  intellect  may  be  lost  in  the 
 contemplation  of  its  mysterious  depths,  is 
 yet,  in  another,  so  simple  that  the  lisping 
 babe  at  a  mother's  knee  may  learn  its 
 meaning.  Caird. 
 
 TEUTH— Progress  of. 
 
 The  truth-haters  of  every  future  gene- 
 ration will  call  the  truth-haters  of  the  pre- 
 ceding ages  by  their  true  names ;  for  even 
 these  the  stream  of  time  carries  onward. 
 In  fine,  truth,  considered  in  itself  and  in 
 the  effects  natural  to  it,  may  be  conceived 
 as  a  gentle  spring  or  water- source,  warm 
 from  the  genial  earth,  and  breathing  up 
 into  the  snow-drift  that  is  piled  over  and 
 4iround  its  outlet.  It  turns  the  obstacle 
 into  its  own  form  and  character,  and  as  it 
 makes  its  way  increases  its  stream ;  and 
 should  it  be  arrested  in  its  course  by  a 
 chilling  season,  it  suffers  dehiy,  not  loss, 
 and  waits  only  for  a  change  in  the  wind  to 
 awaken,  and  again  roll  onward. 
 
 S.  T.  Coleridge. 
 
 TEUTH— Seeking. 
 
 Truth  is  a  great  stronghold,  barred  and 
 fortified  by  God  and  Nature  j  and  diHgence 
 is  properly  the  understanding's  laying 
 siege  to  it ;  so  that,  as  in  a  kind  of  war- 
 fare, it  must  be  perpetually  upon  the 
 watch,  observing  all  the  avenues  and 
 passes  to  it,  and  accordingly  makes  its  ap- 
 proaches. Dr.  South. 
 
 Truth,  like  a  stately  dame,  will  not  be 
 seen,  nor  show  herself  at  the  tii-st  visit, 
 
860 
 
 TRUTH- TRUTH  AMD  ERROR. 
 
 nor  match  with  the  understanding  ujion 
 an  ordinary  courtship  or  address.  Long 
 and  tedious  attendances  must  be  given, 
 and  the  hardest  fatigues  endured  and  di- 
 gested ;  nor  did  ever  the  most  pregnant 
 wit  in  the  world  bring  forth  anytlnng 
 great,  lasting,  and  considerable,  without 
 some  pain  and  travail,  some  pangs  and 
 throes  before  the  delivery.  Now  all  this 
 that  I  have  said  is  to  show  the  force  of 
 diligence  in  the  investigation  of  truth,  and 
 particularly  of  the  noblest  of  all  truths, 
 which  is  that  of  religion.  Br.  Smith. 
 
 TRUTH— Seize  the. 
 Seize  upon  Truth,  where'er  'tis  found, 
 Amongst  your  friends,  amongst  your  foes. 
 On  Christian  or  on  heathen  ground ; 
 The  flower  's  Divine,  where'er  it  grows. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 TRUTH— Speaking  the. 
 
 Speak  the  truth  though  it  displease; 
 speak  the  truth,  though  the  heathen  rage 
 and  the  people  imagine  vain  things ;  speak 
 the  truth,  though,  for  aught  we  know,  it 
 may  be  the  last  word  we  speak ;  speak  the 
 truth,  though  it  may  nail  us  to  the  cross, 
 where  we  shall  most  resemble  Him  with 
 this  title.  The  servant  of  Christ,  as  His 
 was.  The  King  of  the  Jews. 
 
 Anthony  Farindon. 
 
 TRUTH— Sweetness  of. 
 
 The  priests  of  Mercury,  as  Plutarch  tells 
 US,  in  eating  of  their  holy  things,  were 
 wont  to  cry  out,  "  Sweet  is  the  truth." 
 But  how  sweet  and  delicious  that  truth  is, 
 which  holy  and  heaven-born  souls  feed 
 upon  in  their  mysterious  converse  with  the 
 Deity,  who  can  tell  but  they  that  taste  it  ? 
 John  Smith. 
 
 TRUTH— Universality  of. 
 
 Truth  is  in  each  flower, 
 As  well  as  in  the  solemnest  things  of  God. 
 Truth  is  the  voice  of  Nature  and  of  Time — 
 Truth  is  the  startling  monitor  within  us — 
 Nought  is  without  it,  it  comes  from  the 
 
 stars. 
 The   golden   sun,  and   every  breeze   that 
 
 blows — 
 Truth,  it  is  God,  and  is  everywhere. 
 
 W.  T.  Bacon. 
 
 Whitlier  shall  we  look  and  not  discern 
 truth  ?  There  is  truth  in  the  angels  and 
 truth  in  men.  There  is  truth  in  the 
 heavens  and  truth  in  the  earth.  Truth 
 compasses  a  planet  as  it  travels  in  its 
 course,  and  the  atom  as  it  drifts  before  the 
 breeze.  It  shines  in  the  buttercup  of  the 
 meadow,  and  waves  in  the  golden  grain  of 
 the  harvest.  Yea,  truth  is  even  in  com- 
 pany with  a  lie,  revealing  it  and  damning 
 it.      The  devil  himself  cannot   fly  from 
 
 truth,  for  it  is  truth  that  proves  him  to 
 be  a  devil.  Every  sin  and  every  sinner 
 live  with  truth  exposing  them  and  con- 
 demuing  them.  Truth  is  as  omnipresent 
 as  all  things,  yea,  as  God  Himself. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 TRUTH— Vastness  of. 
 
 The  truth  is  infinite  as  the  firmament 
 above  you.  In  childhood,  both  seem  near 
 and  measurable;  but  with  years  they  grow 
 and  grow ;  and  seem  further  ofl",  and  fur- 
 ther and  grander,  and  deeper,  and  vaster, 
 as  God  Himself;  till  yon  smile  to  remember 
 how  you  thought  you  could  touch  the  sky, 
 and  blush  to  recollect  the  proud  and  self- 
 sufficient  way  in  which  you  used  to  talk  of 
 knowing  or  preaching  "  The  Truth." 
 
 F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 
 TRUTH— View  of. 
 
 It  is  a  pleasure  to  stand  upon  the  shore, 
 and  to  see  ships  tost  upon  the  sea ;  a  plea- 
 sure to  stand  in  the  window  of  a  castle, 
 and  to  see  a  battle  and  the  adventures 
 thereof  below;  but  no  pleasure  is  com- 
 parable to  the  standing  upon  the  vantage 
 ground  of  truth  (a  hill  not  to  be  com- 
 manded, and  where  the  air  is  always  clear 
 and  serene)  and  to  see  the  errors,  andwan- 
 derings,  and  mists,  and  tempests,  in  the 
 vale  below.  Certainly,  it  is  heaven  upon 
 earth  to  have  a  man's  mind  move  in  charity, 
 rest  in  Providence,  and  turn  upon  the  poles 
 of  truth.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 TRUTH— Weapons  of. 
 
 Truth  is  not  defended  by  physical 
 weapons.  Peter  in  defending  Christ  was 
 defending  truth,  and  yet  Christ  forbade  the 
 use  of  the  sword.  "  The  weapons  of  our 
 warfare  are  not  carnal,  but  mighty  through 
 God  to  the  pulling  down  of  the  stronghold 
 of  Satan."  Truth  shudders  in  her  palace 
 of  light  as  she  beholds  men  attempting  to 
 promote  her  interests  by  the  employment 
 of  material  forces;  truth  sits  not  on  a 
 throne  that  is  bristling  with  bayonets — 
 her's  is  a  throne  established  on  the  im- 
 movable basis  of  Eternal  Right  and  Inlinite 
 Love.  Dr.  J.  Parker. 
 
 TRUTH  AND  ERROR— not  Blended. 
 
 The  Rhone  is  formed  of  two  rivers,  run- 
 ning side  by  side  in  one  channel,  the  one 
 pure  as  the  blue  sky  above  it,  the  other 
 turbid  and  discoloured ;  but  they  do  not 
 combine :  so  truth  and  error,  or  good  and 
 evil  may  live  side  by  side  in  this  world, 
 the  one  as  beautiful  as  God,  the  other  as 
 ugly  as  hell ;  but  they  do  not,  they  cannot 
 conaningle.  Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 TRUTH  AND  ERROR— Forms  of. 
 
 Truth  like  life  will  make  its  own  form  ; 
 error  only  lives  as  it  is  wrapped  in  fine 
 
TRUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD— TRUTHFULNESS  AND  VERACITY. 
 
 861 
 
 clothes.  Christianity  was  a  principle  of 
 living  truth,  "  a  seed ;"  and  though  small, 
 only  give  it  soil  and  it  will  build  up  struc- 
 tures for  itself.  The  little  acorn  will 
 build  in  oaken  forests  for  itself  a  home, 
 before  which  the  most  magnificent  palace 
 of  kings  shall  appear  mean,  and  tliat  shall 
 flourish  in  strength  and  beauty  when 
 those  palaces  are  dust.  Truth  never 
 studies  appearances,  error  does;  truth  is 
 content  with  the  form  of  a  mustard-seed, 
 error  seeks  all  the  pageantry  that  art  can 
 invent  and  wealth  procure.      Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 TKUTH  AND  FALSEHOOD. 
 
 I  once  asked  a  deaf  and  dumb  boy, 
 "  What  is  truth  ?"  He  replied  by  thrust- 
 ing his  finger  forward  in  a  straight  line. 
 I  then  asked  him,  "  What  is  falsehood  ?" 
 when  he  made  a  zigzag  with  his  finger. 
 Try  to  remember  this ;  let  whoever  will 
 take  a  zigzag  path,  go  you  on  in  your 
 course  as  straight  as  an  arrow  to  its  mark, 
 and  shrink  back  from  falsehood  as  you 
 would  from  a  viper.  Barnahy. 
 
 TRUTH  AND  A  LIE. 
 
 Truth  is  spiritual  substance;  and  a  lie 
 spiritual  shadow.  Truth  is  spiritual  light ; 
 and  a  lie  spiritual  darkness.  Truth  is  the 
 root  of  all  virtue  ;  and  a  lie  is  the  root  of 
 all  vice.  Truth  is  the  celestial  tincture 
 that  makes  spirits  good;  and  a  lie  the  in- 
 fernal tincture  that  makes  them  evil.  A 
 lie  is  as  nearly  related  to  the  devil,  as  in- 
 fection to  one  that  has  a  plague,  or  opacity 
 to  the  earth ;  and  truth  is  as  nearly  re- 
 lated to  God  as  fragrancy  to  burning  in- 
 cense, and  light  to  the  unclouded  sun. 
 
 /.  Fletcher. 
 
 TRUTH  AND  LOVE— Power  of. 
 
 When  we  would  convince  men  of  an 
 error  by  the  strength  of  truth,  let  us  withal 
 pour  the  sweet  balm  of  love  upon  their 
 heads.  Truth  and  love  are  two  of  the  most 
 powerful  things  in  the  world ;  and  when 
 they  both  go  together  they  cannot  easily 
 be  withstood.  The  golden  beams  of  truth 
 and  the  silken  cords  of  love  twisted  to- 
 gether will  draw  men  on  with  a  secret  vio- 
 lence, whether  they  will  or  no. 
 
 Cudworth. 
 
 TRUTH  OF  GOD— Operations  of  the. 
 
 It  may  be  asked,  How  can  the  truth  be 
 said  to  commend  itself  to  an  impaired,  im- 
 perfect conscience  ?  How  can  light  be 
 perceived  by  blmd  eyes,  harmony  by  dull 
 or  deaf  ears  ? 
 
 The  solution  of  this  difficulty  will  per- 
 haps be  found  in  the  consideration  that 
 Divine  truth  exerts  on  the  mind  of  man  at 
 once  a  restorative  and  a  self-manifesting 
 power.  It  creates  in  the  mind  the  capacity 
 by  which  it  is  discerned.     As  light  opens 
 
 the  close-shut  flower-bud  to  receive  light, 
 or  as  the  sunbeam  playing  on  a  sleeper's 
 eyes,  by  its  gentle  irritation  opens  them  to 
 see  its  own  brightness;  so  the  truth  of 
 God,  shining  on  the  soul,  quickens  and  stirs 
 into  activity  the  faculty  by  whicli  that 
 very  truth  is  perceived.  Caird. 
 
 TRUTH  OF  GOD— Power  of  the. 
 
 Suppose  that  a  person  wishing  to  send  a 
 message  from  London  to  Edinburgh  by 
 lightning,  knows  how  to  construct  an 
 electric  battery ;  but  when  he  comes  to  con- 
 sider how  he  will  transmit  the  impulse 
 through  hundreds  of  miles,  he  looks  at  an 
 iron  wire,  and  says, "  This  is  dull,  senseless, 
 cold,  has  no  sympathy  with  light,  it  is  un- 
 natural, in  frtC't  irrational,  to  imagine  that 
 this  dark  thing  can  convey  a  lightning 
 message  in  a  moment."  From  this  he 
 turns  and  looks  at  a  prism.  It  glows  with 
 the  many  coloured  sunbeam.  He  might 
 say,  "  This  is  sympathetic  with  light,"  and 
 in  its  flashing  imagine  that  he  saw  proof 
 that  his  message  would  speed  through  it ; 
 but  when  he  puts  it  to  the  experiment,  it 
 proves  that  the  shining  prism  will  convey 
 no  touch  of  his  silent  fire,  but  that  the 
 dull  iron  will  transmit  it  to  the  farthest 
 end  of  the  land.  And  so  with  God's  holy 
 truth.  It  alone  is  adapted  to  carry  into 
 the  soul  of  man  the  secret  fire  which  writes 
 before  the  inner  eye  of  the  soul  a  message 
 from  the  unseen  One  in  the  skies. 
 
 Br.  T.  TF.  Jenkyn. 
 
 TRUTHFULNESS  AND  VERACITY. 
 
 There  is  a  wide  difljei'ence  between 
 truthfulness  and  mere  veracity.  Veracity 
 implies  a  correspondence  between  thoughts 
 and  realities.  To  be  veracious,  it  is  only 
 necessary  that  a  man  give  utterance  to  his 
 convictions ;  to  be  true,  it  is  needful  that 
 his  convictions  have  affinity  with  fiict. 
 
 Let  us  take  some  illustrations  of  this 
 distinction.  The  prophet  tells  of  men 
 who  put  sweet  for  bitter,  and  bitter  for 
 sweet ;  who  called  good  evil,  and  evil  good ; 
 yet  these  were  veracious  men ;  for  to  them 
 evil  ^vas  good  and  bitter  was  sweet : — 
 There  was  a  correspondence  between  their 
 ojiinions  and  their  words ;  this  was  ve- 
 racity. But  there  was  no  correspondence 
 between  their  opinions  and  eternal  fiict; 
 this  was  untruthfulness.  They  spoke  their 
 opinions  truly,  but  their  opinions  were  not 
 true.  The  Pharisees  in  the  time  of  Christ 
 were  men  of  veracity.  What  they  thought 
 they  said.  They  thought  that  Christ  was 
 an  impostor.  They  believed  that  to  tithe 
 mint,  anise,  and  cummin,  was  as  acceptable 
 to  God  as  to  be  just,  and  merciful,  and  true. 
 It  was  their  conviction  that  they  were  im- 
 measurably better  than  the  publicans  and 
 profligates;   yet,  veracious  as  they  were, 
 
8G2 
 
 TTPE-TYEANTS. 
 
 the  title  perpetually  affixed  to  them  is,  "  Ye 
 hypocrites."  Tlie  life  they  led  being  a 
 false  life,  is  called,  in  the  phraseology  of 
 the  Apostle  John,  a  lie. 
 
 If  a  man  speak  a  careless  slander  against 
 another,  believing  it,  he  has  not  sinned 
 against  veracity ;  bnt  the  carelessness 
 which  has  led  him  into  so  grave  an  error, 
 efiectually  bars  his  claim  to  clear  truth- 
 fulness. He  is  a  veracious  witness  but  not 
 a  true  one. 
 
 Or  a  man  may  have  taken  up  second- 
 hand, indolently,  religious  views ;  may  be- 
 lieve them  ;  defend  them  vehemently, — Is 
 he  a  man  of  truth  ?  Has  he  bowed  before 
 the  majesty  of  truth  with  that  patient, 
 reverential  humbleness  which  is  the  mark 
 of  those  who  love  her  ? 
 
 F.  IF.  Rolertsoii. 
 
 TYPE— Definition  of  a. 
 
 A  type  is  a  fact  precedent  to  some  other 
 greater  than  itself,  designed  to  prepare 
 the  way  for  it,  and  to  be  a  voucher  for  it 
 as  pre-ordained  and  brought  to  pass  by  the 
 Divine  wisdom  and  power.  It  is  the 
 shadow  of  a  coming  truth  projected  far 
 before  it,  showing  its  figure  rather  than 
 its  substance,  its  image,  not  its  properties. 
 G.  Steward. 
 
 TYPE— Object  and  Tendencies  of  a. 
 
 Its  object  is  to  teach  by  symbol — more 
 or  less  vague,  yet  insignificant — truths  as 
 yet  remaining  mysteries,  and  to  be  fully 
 expounded  by  the  facts  and  teachings  of 
 the  future.  Its  tendencies  are  to  awaken 
 interest  in  things  or  persons,  past  and 
 passing,  by  their  intimated  correspondences 
 with  the  future;  and  to  enable  the  student 
 of  revelation  to  complete  his  views  of  the 
 unity  and  sweep  of  the  Divine  plans. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 TYPE— Properties  of  a. 
 
 A  type  in  the  theological  sense  is  well 
 defined  by  systematic  writers  to  be  a  sign 
 or  example  prepared  and  designed  by  God 
 to  prefigure  some  future  thing.  It  is  re- 
 quired that  it  should  represent  (though  the 
 degree  of  clearness  may  be  very  ditt'erent 
 in  diflerent  instances)  this  future  object 
 either  by  something  which  it  has  in  com- 
 mon with  it,  or  in  being  the  symbol  of 
 some  property  which  it  possesses ;  that  it 
 should  be  prepared  and  designed  by  God 
 thus  to  represent  its  antitype,  which  cir- 
 cumstance distinguishes  it  from  a  simile 
 and  from  a  hieroglyph  ;  that  it  should  give 
 place  to  the  antitype  as  soon  as  the  latter 
 appears ;  and  that  the  efficacy  of  the  anti- 
 type should  exist  in  the  type  in  appear- 
 ance only,  or  in  a  lower  degree.  These 
 may  be  considered  as  the  general  proper- 
 ties of  a  type.  jB.  TFatson. 
 
 TYPES  IN  NATURE. 
 
 In  every  object  hei-e  I  see 
 
 Something,  O  Lord,  that  leads  to  Thee  • 
 
 Firm  as  the  rocks  Thy  proinise  stands, 
 
 Thy  mercies  countless  as  the  sands ; 
 
 Thy  love  a  sea  immensely  wide, 
 
 Thy  grace  an  ever-flowiug  tide. 
 
 In  every  object  here  I  see 
 
 Something,  my  heart,  that  points  to  thee ; 
 
 Hard  as  the  rocks  that  bound  the  strand. 
 
 Unfruitful  as  the  barren  sand. 
 
 Deep  and  deceitful  as  the  ocean, 
 
 And  like  the  tides  in  constant  motion. 
 
 J.  Newton. 
 
 TYRANTS— Death  of 
 
 Hearing  a  whole  quire  of  birds  chirping 
 merrily  together,  my  curiosity  was  excited 
 to  inquire  into  the  occasion  of  their  convo- 
 cation and  merriment,  when  I  quickly  per- 
 ceived a  dead  hawk  in  the  bush,  about 
 which  they  made  such  a  noise,  seeming  to 
 triumph  at  the  death  of  an  enemy.  I 
 could  not  blame  them  for  singing  the  knell 
 of  one  who,  like  a  cannibal,  was  wont  to 
 feed  upon  their  living  bodies,  tearing  them 
 limb  from  limb,  and  scaring  them  with  his 
 frightful  appearance.  Over  this  bird, 
 which  was  so  formidable  when  alive,  the 
 most  timid  wren  or  titmouse  did  not  now 
 fear  to  chirp  and  hop. 
 
 This  occurrence  brought  to  my  mind 
 the  case  of  tyrants  and  oppressors.  When 
 living,  they  are  the  terror  of  mankind; 
 but  when  dead,  they  are  the  objects  of 
 general  contempt  and  scorn.  "  When  the 
 wicked  perish,  there  is  shouting"  (Prov. 
 xi,  10).  The  death  of  Nero  was  celebrated 
 by  the  Romans  with  bonfires  and  plays  j 
 birds  ate  the  naked  flesh  of  Pompey; 
 Alexander  lay  unburied  thirty  days  ;  but  a 
 useful  and  holy  life  is  generally  closed  by 
 an  honorable  and  lamented  death.     Anon. 
 
 TYRANTS— Description  of. 
 To  trample  on  all  human  feelings,  all 
 Ties  which  bind  man  to  man,  to  emulate 
 The  fiends,  who  will  one  day  requite  them 
 
 Variety  of  torturing. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Th'    oppi-essive,    sturdy,    man-destroying 
 villains,  [waste. 
 
 Who  ravag'd  kingdoms,  and  laid  empires 
 And  in  a  cruel  wantonness  of  power, 
 Thinn'd  states  of  half  their  people,   and 
 
 gave  up 
 To  want  the  rest.  IBlair. 
 
 TYRANTS— Family. 
 
 For  his  rule  over  his  family  and  for  his 
 conduct  to  wife  and  children,  subjects  over 
 whom  his  power  is  monarchial,  any  one 
 who  watches  the  world  must  think  with 
 trembling  of  the  account  which  many  a 
 
TYRANTS— UNBELIEF. 
 
 853 
 
 man  will  have  to  render.  For  in  our 
 society  there  is  no  law  to  control  the  king 
 of  the  fireside.  He  is  master  of  property, 
 happiness,  life  almost.  He  is  free  to 
 punish,  to  make  happy  or  unhappy,  to  ruin 
 or  to  torture.  He  may  kill  a  wife  gra- 
 dually, and  he  no  more  questioned  than  the 
 gi'and  seignior  who  drowns  a  slave  at  mid- 
 night. He  may  make  slaves  and  hypocrites 
 of  his  children,  or  friends  and  freemen  ;  or 
 drive  them  into  revolt  and  enmity  against 
 the  natural  laws  of  love.  I  have  heard  poli- 
 ticians and  cotfee-house  wiseacres  talking 
 over  the  newspaper,  and  railing  at  the 
 tyranny  of  the  emperor,  and  wondered  how 
 these,  who  are  monarchs  too  in  their  way, 
 govern  their  own  dominions  at  home, 
 where  each  man  rules  absolute.  When 
 the  annals  of  each  little  reign  are  shown 
 the  Supreme  Master  under  whom  we  hold 
 sovereignty,  histories  will  he  laid  bare  of 
 household  tyrants  cruel  as  Amnrath,  savage 
 as  Nero,  and  reckless  and  dissolute  as 
 Charles.  Thackeray. 
 
 TYEANTS— Moral. 
 
 Think'st  thou  there  is  no  tyranny  hut  that 
 
 Of  blood  and  chains  ?     The  despotism  of 
 
 vice — 
 The    weakness    and    the    wickedness    of 
 
 luxury. 
 The  negligence,  the  apathy,  the  evils 
 Of  sensual  sloth — produce   ten  thousand 
 
 tyrants. 
 Whose  delegated  cruelty  surpasses 
 The  worst  acts  of  one  energetic  master, 
 However  harsh  and  hard  in  his  own  bear- 
 ing. Lord  Byron. 
 
 UNBELIEF— Deeply-looted. 
 
 How  deeply  rooted  must  unbelief  be  in 
 our  hearts,  when  we  are  surprised  to  find 
 our  prayers  answered!  instead  of  feeling- 
 sure  that  they  will  be  so,  if  they  are  only 
 offered  up  in  faith  and  accord  with  the 
 will  of  God.  Hare. 
 
 UNBELIEF— Effects  of. 
 
 Unbelief  stops  the  current  of  God's 
 mercy  from  running ;  it  shuts  uji  God's 
 bowels,  closeth  the  orifice  of  Christ's 
 wounds,  that  no  healing  virtue  will  come 
 out.  "  He  could  not  do  many  mighty 
 works  there,  because  of  their  unbelief" 
 (Matt,  xiii,  58).  T.  Waison. 
 
 UNBELIEF— Forms  of. 
 
 There  are  the  various  ramifications  of  the 
 subtle  spirit  of  Unbelief — Atheism,  dis- 
 carding its  former  audacity  of  blasphemy, 
 assuming  now  a  modest  garb  and  mendi- 
 cant whine,  asking  our  pity  for  its  idiosyn- 
 
 crasy, bewailing  its  misfortune  in  not 
 being  able  to  believe  there  is  a  God — S«- 
 tionaJhm,  whether  in  the  transcendental- 
 ism of  Hegel,  or  in  the  allegorising  impiety 
 of  Strauss,  or  in  the  pantheistic  philosophy 
 of  Fichte,  eating  out  the  heart  of  the  Gos- 
 pel, into  which  its  vampire-fangs  have  fas- 
 tened— Lcdltiidinavianism  on  a  sentimen- 
 tal journey  in  search  of  the  religious  in- 
 stinct, doling  out  its  equal  and  niggard 
 praise  to  it  wherever  it  is  found,  in  Fe- 
 tichism,  Thuggism,  Mohammedism,  or 
 Christianity — that  species  of  active  and 
 high-sounding  scepticism,  which,  for  want 
 of  a  better  name,  we  may  call  a  Credoplio- 
 Via,  which  selects  the  confessions  and  cate- 
 chisms as  theobjects  of  its  especial  hostility, 
 and  which,  knowing  right  well  that  if  the 
 banner  is  down,  the  courage  fails,  and  the 
 army  will  be  routed  or  slain,  "  furious 
 as  a  woulded  bull  runs  tearing  at  the 
 creeds," — these,  with  all  their  off-shoots 
 and  dependencies  (for  their  name  is  Legion) 
 grouped  under  the  generic  style  of  Infi- 
 delity, have  girt  themselves  for  the  combat 
 and  are  asserting  and  endeavouring  to 
 establish  their  empire  over  the  intellects 
 and  consciences  of  men.  And  as  this  sjjirit 
 of  Unbelief  has  many  sympathies  with  the 
 spirit  of  Superstition,  they  have  entered 
 into  unholy  alliance — "  Herod  and  Pilate 
 have  been  made  friends  together" — and, 
 hand  joined  in  hand,  they  are  arrayed 
 against  the  truth  of  God.  Oh,  rare  John 
 Bunyan  !  Was  he  not  among  the  prophets  ? 
 Listen  to  his  description  of  the  last  army 
 of  Diabolus  before  the  final  triumph  of 
 Immanuel.  "  Ten  thousand  Doubtees, 
 and  fifteen  thousand  Bloodmen,  and  old 
 Incredulity  was  again  made  general  of  the 
 army."  W.  M.  Fuiislioii. 
 
 UNBELIEF— the  Mother-Sin. 
 
 But  how  comes  this  to  be  the  great 
 prime  sin,  the  mother  of  all  sins  ?  Think 
 brethren,  a  moment,  where  we  are  ;  think 
 what  our  business  is  here.  We  are  in 
 God's  world ;  we  are  God's  creatures ;  but 
 yet  we  are  cut  off  from  God.  We  are,  as 
 it  were,  outcasts  from  God,  shut  up  in 
 the  prison  of  the  body,  and  bound  heart 
 and  soul  and  mind  with  the  chains  of  the 
 senses.  The  walls  of  this  our  prison  hide 
 Him  from  us.  We  can  neither  see  Him 
 with  our  eyes,  nor  hear  Him  with  our 
 ears ;  still  less  can  our  smell  or  taste  or 
 touch  bring  us  into  His  presence.  There- 
 fore our  great  business  here  on  earth  is  to 
 live  by  faith  :  for  only  through  faith  can 
 we  live  in  the  presence  of  God.  When  we 
 look  through  the  chambers  of  this  our  pri- 
 son, we  find  that  in  it,  however  stunted 
 and  pining  with  long  confinement  in  an 
 alien  atmosphere,  there  is  still  an  under- 
 standing which  has  some  faint  power  of 
 discerning  the  ways  of  God,  and  a  heart 
 
864 
 
 UNBELIEF. 
 
 •which  may  he  hronght  to  feel  some  faint 
 motion  of  love  for  God.  If  we  believed  in 
 Him,  we  should  be  better  able  to  dis- 
 cern Him,  and  far  better  able  to  love  Him. 
 But  inasmuch  as  we  cannot  perceive  Him 
 ■with  our  senses,  we  need  the  eye  of  faith. 
 Faith  should  lift  us  out  of  the  prison  of 
 the  body,  and  free  us  from  the  bondage  of 
 the  senses,  and  bear  us  up  into  the  presence 
 of  Him,  whom  no  eye  hath  seen,  or  can 
 see.  Moreover,  as  God  alone  is  good  in 
 Himself,  as  He  is  the  only  Fountain  of  all 
 pood,  so  that  nothing  is  good  except  what 
 comes  from  God,  and  is  received  and  held 
 in  communion  with  Him,  it  is  plain  that, 
 where  there  is  no  faith,  there  can  be  nothing 
 truly  good.  The  bond  of  union  with  God 
 is  snapped.  The  one  channel,  through 
 which  good  can  flow  into  our  hearts,  is  cut 
 off.  Hence  we  must  be  like  members 
 severed  from  their  body  ;  everything  about 
 us  must  have  the  taint  of  death,  must  par- 
 take more  or  less  of  the  nature  of  sin. 
 Now  what  is  the  state  of  the  world  with 
 regard  to  faith  ?  Surely  the  world  is  with- 
 out faith.  Until  our  hearts  have  been  re- 
 newed by  the  Spirit  of  God,  faith,  in  this, 
 its  highest  relation,  as  faith  in  God,  is 
 very  weak  in  most  of  us,  in  many  almost 
 an  utter  blank.  Therefore  do  we  give  up 
 our  mind  to  dig  in  the  quarries  of  the  body 
 and  our  heart  to  work  in  the  hulks  of  the 
 senses.  We  clothe  ourselves  in  the  con- 
 vict dress  of  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  put 
 out  the  eyes  of  the  reason,  and  tie  a  clog 
 to  the  heels  of  the  understauding,  and  clip 
 the  wings  of  the  imagination,  and  muzzle 
 the  will,  and  tar  and  feather  our  feelings 
 with  the  dust  and  dirt  of  the  earth.  If  we 
 had  faith  in  its  full  life  and  strength, — if 
 our  faith  were  indeed  the  substance  of 
 things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things 
 unseen, — if  it  gave  a  body  to  the  future 
 and  invisible,  so  that  we  could  see  it  as 
 with  our  eyes, — if  our  understandings  were 
 opened  to  behold  heaven  and  hell,  with  the 
 same  clearness  with  which  we  behold  tlie 
 skj'  over  our  heads,  and  the  earth  under 
 our  feet,— if  we  could  feel  the  blessedness 
 of  communion  with  God,  the  unutterable 
 woe  of  separation  from  Him,  as  lively  and 
 intensely  as  we  feel  the  pleasures  and  pains 
 of  the  senses, — it  would  be  impossible  for 
 us  to  sin.  As  it  is  declared  that  the  pure  in 
 heart  shall  see  God,  so  if  we  had  that  faith 
 which  would  enable  us  to  see  God  ever 
 standing  at  our  right  hand,  and  compassing 
 us  about  with  the  arms  of  His  power  and 
 love,  how  could  we  be  otherwise  than  pure 
 in  heart  ?  For  impurity,  of  whatsoever 
 kind,  sin,  of  whatsoever  kind,  is  the  turn- 
 ing away  from  God.  It  is  turning  our 
 thoughts  away  from  God,  and  fixing  them 
 ever  on  other  objects  than  God.  It  is  turn- 
 ing cur  heart  away  from  God,  and  giving 
 it  up  to  something  apart  from  God, — to 
 
 something  that  we  love,  not  in  God  and 
 through  God,  as  His  creature,  and  His 
 gift,  in  humble  thankfulness  to  the  Giver, 
 but  without  God,  and  against  God,  and 
 in  despite  of  God,  without  a  thought  of 
 Him,  against  His  will,  in  despite  of  His 
 commandment.  It  is  taking  our  faith 
 away  from  God,  and  placing  it  in  some- 
 thing else, — the  believing  that  there  is  any- 
 thing real,  anything  true,  anything  lasting, 
 anything  good  and  worthy  and  lovely, 
 except  God,  and  that  into  which  He  is 
 pleased  to  pour  out  from  the  riches  of  His 
 surpassing  excellencies, — the  believing  that 
 happiness  may  be  found  in  something  be- 
 side communion  with  God,  and  dutiful  obe- 
 dience to  His  will.  For  this  is  the  curse 
 of  unbelief.  We  will  not  believe  the 
 truth  ;  and  therefore  God  has  given  us  up 
 to  believe  all  manner  of  lies.  There  is  no- 
 thing too  gross,  too  senseless,  too  wild  and 
 extravagant  for  us  to  believe.  We  believe 
 that  the  fleeting  pleasures  of  the  flesh  are 
 more  substantial  and  precious  than  the  en- 
 during joys  of  the  spirit, — that  the  fitful 
 admiration  and  favour  of  feeble  man  are 
 more  to  be  desired  than  the  grace  and  love 
 of  Almighty  God, — that  earth  is  truer  and 
 more  real  than  heaven, — that  a  life  of  a 
 few  years  is  longer  and  of  more  importance 
 than  a  life  through  eternity', — that  the 
 scarred  and  bloated  carcase  of  sin,  with  its 
 death's  head,  and  its  stinging  snakes  coil- 
 ing restlessly  around  it,  is  lovelier  and 
 more  to  be  desired  than  the  pure  and  ra- 
 diant  beauty  of  holiness.  Yes,  alas,  we 
 assuredly  do  believe  these  lies ;  we  believe 
 them,  all  of  us,  more  or  less  :  the  natural 
 man  believes  them  wholly ;  and  we  never  get 
 so  far  quit  of  the  natural  man,  as  to  escape 
 from  the  last  maze  of  this  never-ending 
 labyrinth  of  falsehood.  By  our  conduct 
 we  show  almost  daily,  in  one  way  or  other, 
 that  we  do  believe  these  lies.  Yet,  if  we 
 had  feith,  this  would  be  impossible.  For 
 faith,  while  it  taught  us  that  God  is  to  be 
 loved  above  all  things,  and  that  a  union 
 with  God  is  to  be  desired  above  all  things, 
 would  at  the  same  time  teach  us  that 
 whatever  draws  us  away  and  separates 
 us  from  God,  is  to  be  shunned  and  cast 
 out  and  abhorred.  Tiius  faith  takes  the 
 charm  out  of  every  temptation,  and  turns 
 its  sweetness  into  bitterness,  its  honey  into 
 gall.  Were  a  cup  of  pleasant  wine  put 
 into  your  hands,  and  you  knew  for  certain 
 that  a  deadly  poison  was  mixed  up  with 
 the  wine,  which  would  rack  you  with  the 
 fiercest  pains,  and  ere  long  tear  soul  and 
 body  in  sunder, — who  would  drink  it  ? 
 who  would  not  dash  it  from  him  forth- 
 with ?  Yet,  if  we  had  but  faith,  we  should 
 know  and  feel  that  sin  is  deadlier  than  the 
 deadliest  poison,  that  it  racks  us  with 
 fiercer  pains,  and  gives  us  over  to  a  more 
 terrible  dissolution.     For  it  cuts  08.  from 
 
UNDERSTANDING— UNIFORMITY  OF  THOUGHT. 
 
 865 
 
 God,  from  Him  who  is  the  only  Source  of 
 all  blessing  and  peace  and  joy. 
 
 Hence  it  is,  because  our  want  of  faith, 
 and  the  consequent  estrangement  from 
 God,  is  our  prime,  original  misery  and  sin, 
 — because  it  is  the  curse,  through  which 
 man's  heart  only  brings  forth  thorns  and 
 thistles, — because  it  is  the  occasion,  if  not 
 the  cause,  of  every  other  sin,  from  all  which 
 iinth  would  infallibly  preserve  us, — and 
 because,  if  we  continued  witliout  faith, 
 even  though  every  other  sin  were  tho- 
 roughly purged  from  the  earth,  a  fresh 
 brood  would  immediately  spring  forth, — 
 therefore  it  was  tliat,  when  the  Spirit  of 
 (lod  came  to  convince  the  world  of  sin,  the 
 sill  He  chose  out  to  be  the  special  object 
 of  His  conviction  was  want  of  faith. 
 
 Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 UNDERSTANDING— before  the  Fall. 
 
 The  understanding  was  then  sublime, 
 clear,  and  aspiring,  and,  as  it  were,  the 
 soul's  upper  region,  lofcy  and  serene,  free 
 fnim  the  vapours  and  disturbances  of  the 
 inferior  affections.  It  was  the  leading, 
 controlling  faculty;  all  the  passions  wore 
 the  colours  of  reason ;  it  did  not  so  much 
 persuade  as  command ;  it  was  not  consul, 
 but  dictator.  Discourse  was  then  almost 
 as' quick  as  intuition;  it  was  nimble  in 
 proposing,  firm  in  concluding;  it  could 
 sooner  determine  than  now  it  can  dispute. 
 Like  the  suu,  it  had  both  light  and  agility  ; 
 it  knew  no  rest  but  in  motion ;  no  quiet 
 but  in  activity.  It  did  not  properly  ap- 
 prehend as  irradiate  the  object;  not  so 
 much  find  as  make  things  intelligible.  It 
 did  arbitrate  upon  the  several  reports  of 
 sense,  and  all  the  varieties  of  imagination  ; 
 not  like  a  drowsy  judge,  only  heiring,  but 
 also  directing  their  verdict.  In  sum,  it 
 was  vegete,  quick,  and  lively;  open  as  the 
 day,  untainted  as  the  morning,  full  of  the 
 innocence  and  sprightliness  of  youth ;  it 
 gave  the  soul  a  bright  and  a  full  view  into 
 all  things,  and  was  not  only  a  window,  but 
 itself  the  prospect.  Dr.  South. 
 
 UNDERSTANDING— Importance  of  the. 
 
 Every  thinker,  writer,  and  sjjeaker  ought 
 to  be  apprised  that  understanding  is  the 
 basis  of  all  mental  excellence,  and  that 
 none  of  the  faculties  projecting  beyond 
 this  basis  can  be  either  firm  or  graceful. 
 A  mind  may  have  great  dignity  and  power, 
 whose  baais  of  judgment,  to  carry  on  the 
 figure,  is  broader  than  the  other  faculties 
 that  form  the  superstructure  :  thus  a  man 
 whose  memory  is  less  than  his  under- 
 standing, and  his  imagination  less  than 
 his  memory,  and  his  wit  none  at  all,  may 
 be  an  extremely  respectable,  al)le  man — as 
 a  ])vramid  is  sufficiently  graceful  and  in- 
 fiuiuly  strong;— but  not  so  a  man  wlioso 
 
 memory  or  fancy  is  the  widest  faculty,  and 
 then  his  judgment  more  confined.  Not 
 but  that  a  man  may  have  a  powerful 
 understanding  while  he  has  a  still  more 
 powerful  imagination ;  but  he  would  be  a 
 nmch  superior  man  to  what  he  is  now,  if 
 his  understanding  could  be  extended  to  the 
 dimensions  of  his  fancy,  and  his  fancy  re- 
 duced to  the  dimensions  of  his  present 
 understanding,  the  faculties  thus  changing 
 places.  J.  Foster. 
 
 UNIFORMITY— not  Desirable. 
 
 Uniformity  in  religion  is  not  desirable. 
 It  is  by  no  means  desirable,  even  if  you 
 could  obtain  it.  For  one  thing,  it  is  very 
 unbeautiful.  A  palace  with  every  aspect 
 like  every  other  aspect,  and  every  wing 
 like  every  other  wing,  and  every  window 
 like  every  other  window,  and  every  column 
 like  every  other  column,  would  be  a  tame 
 and  spiritless  palace.  A  city  with  every 
 street  a  second  edition  of  every  other 
 street,  and  every  house  in  every  street  a 
 second  edition  of  every  other  house  in 
 every  other  street,  would  not  be  a  very 
 beautiful  city.  A  landscape  without  lakes, 
 without  rivers,  without  hills,  without 
 mountains,  without  rocks,  without  forests, 
 is  dead  and  spiritless.  One  star  differeth 
 from  another  star  in  glory,  and  if  it  were 
 not  so,  would  the  heavens  be  as  beautiful 
 as  they  are  ?  Would  you  like  to  have  the 
 stars  all  of  the  same  size,  divided  into 
 equal  distances,  and  measured,  as  it  were, 
 by  rule  ?  Are  not  the  stars  more  beautiful 
 because  they  are  scattered  carelessly  yonder 
 in  tlie  deep  blue,  sometimes  numbers  of 
 them  together,  aijd  at  anotlier  time  a  tiny 
 star  shining  forth  almost  solitary  and  alone 
 in  the  distance  ?  Would  the  heavens  be 
 as  beautiful  as  they  are  if  it  were  not  so  ? 
 And  would  it  be  as  beautiful,  dear  friends, 
 if  you  could  bind  every  minister  to  preach 
 the  same  as  every  other  minister  all  over 
 England,  if  there  could  be  one  formula,  if 
 the  prayers  and  everything  here  on  the 
 Sabbath  morning  were  exactly  the  sa'ne 
 as  the  prayers  in  every  other  place,  and  if 
 w.e  were  in  all  things  exactly  alike  ? 
 
 T.  Jones. 
 
 UNIFORMITY  OF  THOUGHT. 
 
 Charles  the  Fifth,  after  vainly  attempting 
 for  many  years  to  quench  the  light  of  the 
 Reformation,  and  make  all  men  think  alike, 
 resigned  his  crown  and  retired  to  a  Spanish 
 cloister.  He  betook  himself,  for  recreation, 
 to  the  mechanical  ai-ts.  He  tried  long  and 
 repeatedly  to  make  two  timepieces  to  go 
 alike,  to  keep  uniform  time;  but  his  efforts 
 failed.  Whereupon,  it  is  said,  he  uttered 
 this  memorable  reflection,  "  What  a  fool 
 was  I  to  attempt  to  make  all  men  think 
 .alike  I"  Jo//n  Bate. 
 
 55 
 
UNION— TINITAPJANISK. 
 
 UNION- Power  of. 
 
 Separate  the  atoms  which  make  the 
 hammer  and  each  would  fall  on  the  stone 
 as  a  snow  flake ;  but  welded  into  one,  and 
 wielded  by  the  firm  arm  of  the  quarryman, 
 it  will  break  the  massive  rocks  asunder. 
 Divide  the  waters  of  Niagara  into  distinct 
 and  individual  drops,  and  they  would  be 
 no  more  than  the  falling  rain,  but  in  their 
 united  body  they  would  quench  the  fires 
 of  Vesuvius,  and  have  some  to  spare  for 
 the  .volcanoes  of  other  mountains. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 
 UNION  OF  AFFECTION. 
 
 There  are  two  souls  whose  equal  flow 
 In  gentle  streams  so  calmly  run, 
 
 That  when  they  part— they  part !  oh,  no  ; 
 They  cannot  part— their  souls  are  one ! 
 Barton. 
 
 UNION  WITH  CEHIST. 
 
 To  abide  in  Christ,  to  le  in  Chrlff,,  to 
 put  on  Christ;  and  reciprocally  Christ's 
 being  in  us,  living,  dwelling,  being  formed 
 in  us ;  and  the  like  expressions  occurring 
 in  Holy  Scripture,  do  not  denote  any 
 physical  inherence,  or  essential  conjunction 
 between  Christ  and  us,  but  only  that  mii- 
 tual  relation  accruing  from  our  profession 
 of  being  Christ's  disciples,  our  being  go- 
 verned by  His  laws,  partaking  of  His 
 grace,  with  all  the  privileges  of  the  Gospel, 
 relying  upon  His  promises,  and  hoping  for 
 eternal  salvation  from  Him.     Dr.  Barrow. 
 
 If  a  vine-branch  is  to  sprout  and  throw 
 out  new  suckers  and  shoots,  tlie  tube  by 
 which  it  communicates  with  the  stock  of 
 the  tree  must  adhere  tightly  to  the  stem, 
 and  be  well  open  for  the  passage  of  the 
 sap.  If  you  desire  to  see  the  colours  of 
 furniture  in  this  room,  whose  shutters  are 
 closed,  throw  open  the  shutters,  and  admit 
 the  full  flood  of  sunlight.  And  if  you 
 desire  to  see  the  dead  heart  put  forth  tlic 
 energies  of  spiritual  life,  and  the  dark 
 heart  illumined  by  the  fair  colours  of 
 spiritual  grace,  throw  wide  open  the 
 passage  of  communication  between  Christ 
 and  it.  Dr.  Goulburn. 
 
 UNION  OF  CHRIST  AND  BELIEVERS. 
 
 In  actual  experience  both  the  union  and 
 the  delight  in  it  are  mutual :  ' '  My  Beloved 
 is  mine,  and  I  am  His."  The  vine  holds 
 the  branch,  and  the  branch  holds  the  vine. 
 These  two  are  one  attachment.  The 
 mother  clings  to  her  child,  and  the  child, 
 when  danger  threatens,  clings  to  his 
 mother.  If  the  child  were  dead,  the 
 corpse  woiild  no  longer  clasp  the  mother ; 
 but  neither  would  the  mother  continue  to 
 clasp  the  corpse.  These  two  graspings 
 stand  or  fall  together.     You  must  have 
 
 both  or  neither.  Such  is  the  relation 
 between  Christ  the  Redeemer  and  Chris- 
 tians the  redeemed.  Arnot. 
 
 UNION  OF  CHRISTIANS  TO  CHRIST. 
 
 The  union  of  Christians  to  Christ,  their 
 common  Head,  and.  by  means  of  the  in- 
 fluence which  they  derive  from  Him,  one 
 to  another,  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
 load.stone ;  it  not  only  attracts  the  par- 
 ticles of  iron  to  itself  by  the  magnetic 
 virtue,  but,  by  this  virtue,  it  unites  them 
 one  among  another.  Cecil. 
 
 UNION  WITH  GOD. 
 
 God  is  united  to  us  and  we  are  united 
 to  Him,  not  by  any  form  of  matter,  not  by 
 physical  conjunction  or  contiguity,  but  by 
 the  intersphering  of  soul-life.  It  is  that 
 which  knits  us  to  Him.  Our  thoughts 
 reach  out  and  thread  themselves  to  His 
 thoughts,  and  thus  bring  us  toward  Him. 
 Hence,  God's  union  with  men  is  not  a 
 shadow,  is  not  a  figure,  is  not  a  dream ; 
 it  is  the  statement  of  a  fact  as  literal  as 
 any  law  in  nature.  The  union  of  sunlight 
 witk  vegetables  is  not  more  real.  The 
 flow  of  nourishing  sap  in  fruits  is  not 
 more  literal  than  the  interfusion  and  soul 
 union  of  God's  soul  with  men's. 
 
 H.  W.  Beecher. 
 
 UNION  OF  GREAT  MINDS. 
 
 How  beautiful  is  the  sight  of  the  union 
 of  great  minds,  diversifie;!  though  tliey 
 may  be  in  many  points,  and  that  diversity 
 even  obvious  to  olisTvers.  But  tlie  union 
 in  high  and  nuble  sentiments  is  so  strong 
 and  close,  tbat  the  differences  only  appear 
 as  the  back  ground  to  a  fine  picture,  giving 
 greater  prominence  of  expression  to  tha 
 leading  characteristic  of  the  scene. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 UNITARIANISM. 
 
 What  is  Unitarianism  but  a  stumbling 
 at  tlie  simplicity  of  the  cross  ?  They  were 
 Unitarians  who  stood  at  the  cross  when 
 Christ  died;  they  said,  "Let  Him  come 
 down  from  the  cross  and  we  will  believe 
 on  Him."  That  has  been  the  Unitarian 
 character  ever  since ;  they  will  receive 
 .Tesus  anywhere  but  on  His  cross  ;  but  up 
 there,  dying  in  man's  stead,  He  is  so  cf)m- 
 monplace  that  these  great  gentlemen  run 
 to  philosophy  and  vain  deceit  sooner  than 
 lay  hold  on  that  which  the  commonest  may 
 as  fully  understand  as  they. 
 
 C.  H.  Spurgeon. 
 
 As  the  epicureans  had  a  deism  without  a 
 God,  so  the  Unitarians  have  a  Christianity 
 without  a  Chiist,  and  a  Jesus  but  no 
 Saviour,  Hare. 
 
TTNITY— XINITY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 
 
 867 
 
 UNITY— Departure  from. 
 
 The  number  two  hath  by  the  heathen 
 been  accounted  accursed;  because  it  was 
 the  first  departure  from  unity.     /.  Trapi^. 
 
 UNITY— Description  of. 
 
 I  distinguish  the  unity  of  comprehen- 
 siveness from  the  unity  of  mere  singularity. 
 The  word  one,  as  oneness,  is  an  ambiguous 
 word.  There  is  a  oneness  belonging  to  the 
 army  as  well  as  to  every  soldier  in  the 
 army.  The  army  is  one,  and  that  is  the 
 oneness  of  unity ;  the  soldier  is  one,  and 
 that  is  the  oneness  of  the  unit.  There  is 
 ditference  between  the  oneness  of  a  body 
 and  the  oneness  of  a  member  of  that  body. 
 The  body  is  many,  and  a  unity  of  manifold 
 comprehensiveness.  An  arm  or  a  member 
 of  a  body  is  one,  but  that  is  the  unity  of 
 singularity.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 UNITY— Diversity  in. 
 
 There  are  seven  different  colours  in  the 
 one  rainbow  which  spans  the  heavens. 
 A  diversity  of  attributes  unite  in  blessed 
 harmony  in  the  one  living  and  true  God. 
 An  innumerable  multitude  of  divereified 
 things  commingle  and  combine  to  constitute 
 the  one  earth.  How  diverse  the  great 
 woi'lds,  planets,   and  systems  which  com- 
 
 Erise  the  one  illimitable  universe  of  Je- 
 ovah ! 
 
 This  principle  applies  to  works  of  art  as 
 well  as  nature.  The  one  beautiful  watch 
 contains  in  peaceful  harmony  a  great  di- 
 versity of  parts.  That  exquisite  landscape 
 oil  painting  exhibits  in  happy  combination 
 a  rich  variety  of  different  colours.  The 
 massive  piece  of  machinery  which  accom- 
 plishes such  feats  in  manufacture,  possesses 
 in  its  unity  a  wonderful  diversity  of  parts. 
 These,  and  others,  may  serve  to  illustrate 
 the  unity  of  the  Church  composed  of  such 
 a  diversity  of  ages,  talents,  graces,  opera- 
 tions, doctrines,  &c.  John  Bate. 
 
 UNITY— Evangelical. 
 
 Very  true,  there  are  minor  differences, 
 but  yet  there  is  real  unity.  Ours  is  not  a 
 unity  like  that  of  the  waters  of  a  stagnant 
 pool,  over  which  the  purifying  breath  of 
 heaveu  sweeps  in  vain.  Ours  is  not  the 
 unity  of  darkness,  like  the  cloud-covered 
 midnight  sky,  where  neither  moon  nor  star 
 appears.  Ours  is  not  the  unity  of  a  forced 
 conformity,  such  as  is  found  in  polar  seas, 
 where  eternal  winter  has  locked  up  the 
 waves  in  fetters ;  but  rather,  the  unity  of 
 evangelical  Protestants  is  like  the  fountain 
 flowing  ever  fresh  and  free  from  the  rock  ; 
 like  the  rainbow  that  combines  the  seven 
 prismatic  colours  into  one  glorious  arch  of 
 promise  spanning  the  heavens;  like  old 
 ocean's  unfettered  flow,  as  its  waves  rush 
 
 in,  in  all  their  majesty  and  might,   "dis- 
 tinct as  the  billows,  but  one  as  the  sea. " 
 Weir. 
 
 UNITY— Holy  Band  of. 
 
 The  Thchans  in  their  annies  had  a  band 
 of  men  they  called  the  holy  band,  consist- 
 ing of  such  only  as  were  joined  together  in 
 the  bonds  of  love,  as  would  live  and  die 
 together;  these  they  made  great  account 
 of,  and  esteemed  the  strength  of  their 
 armies.  Such  a  holy  band  every  society  of 
 Christians  should  be.  /.  Trapp. 
 
 UNITY— Peace  in. 
 
 Mark  the  unity  in  God,  and  then  the 
 associated  peace.  Look  at  the  unity  of 
 His  works,  and  then  the  peace  which  per- 
 vades them.  Note  the  peace  of  a  nation 
 when  united,  the  peace  of  a  family  when 
 one  ;  the  peace  of  a  church  when  dwelling 
 in  harmony,  &c. 
 
 A  breach  of  unity  is  a  breach  of  peace. 
 It  was  so  among  the  angels.  It  is  so  in 
 nature,  in  nations,  in  machinery,  in  the 
 Church ;  and  were  it  possible  for  a  breach 
 to  take  place  in  the  grand  harmony  of  the 
 Divine  attributes  constituting  His  One 
 Being,  there  would  be  a  breach  of  the 
 infinite  depths  of  peace  which  is  now  a 
 characteristic  of  the  ever  blessed  God. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 UNITY— no  Proof  of  Truth. 
 
 Aaron  and  the  vast  multitude  that  sur- 
 i-ounded  him  were  united  in  the  worship 
 of  the  golden  calf;  were  they,  therefore, 
 right  ?  The  ten  tribes  that  met  at  Bethel 
 were  united  as  much  as  the  two  that  met 
 at  Jerusalem.  Satan  and  his  angels  are 
 just  as  united  as  the  angels  in  heaveu  are ; 
 only,  the  union  of  the  angels  in  glory  is 
 the  concord  of  the  holy,  while  the  union 
 of  Satan  and  his  host  is  the  conspiracy  of 
 the  damned.  Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 UNITY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 
 
 Then  add  the  reflection,  how  this  influ- 
 ence stretches  beyond  the  reach  of  any 
 other  known  sentiment  among  mankind ; 
 far  outstripping  all  the  motives  of  sympa- 
 thy among  men  of  different  countries,  it 
 flies  over  mountains,  and  seas,  and  ocean.s, 
 and  puts  into  the  mouths  of  nations  the 
 most  remote  and  the  most  dissimilar,  one 
 canticle  of  praise,  and  into  theii-  minds  one 
 symbol  of  belief,  and  into  their  hearts  one 
 sentiment  of  charity.  And  thus  professing 
 alike,  they  kneel  in  countless  multitude 
 before  one  altar,  and  from  the  soul  of  each 
 proceeds  the  golden  bond  Avhich  joins  them 
 unto  it,  which  God  collects  together  and 
 holdeth  in  His  hand,  for  in  Him  is  the 
 centre  towards  which  the  faith  of  all  con- 
 verges, and  in  His  truth  is  it  blended  into 
 uniformity  and  oneness  of  thought. 
 
 Cardinal  Wiseman. 
 
868 
 
 UNITY  OP  CHRISTIANS— UNIVERSE. 
 
 UNITY  OP  CHRISTIANS. 
 
 I  do  not  want  the  walls  of  separation 
 
 between  different  orders  of  Christians  to 
 
 be  destroyed,  but  only  lowered,  that  we 
 
 may  shake  hands  a  little  easier  over  them. 
 
 Roivland  Hill. 
 
 The  hearts  and  hands  of  Christians  ought 
 not  to  be  set  against  each  other,  but  tvith 
 each  other,  and  all  against  the  wickedness 
 of  the  world.  John  Bate. 
 
 UNITY  AND  PEACE— Prosperity  in. 
 
 While  nature  dwells  in  unity  and  peace, 
 it  goes  on  prosperously  in  the  accomplish- 
 ment of  the  things  to  which  she  is  ap- 
 pointed. A  locomotive,  working  in  unity 
 and  peace,  answers  satisfactorily  the  end 
 of  construction.  So  the  Church,  when  she 
 is  possessed  of  the  one  blessed  spirit  of 
 Divine  unity  and  peace,  she  increases  with 
 all  the  increase  of  God.  Ibid. 
 
 UNITY  IN  VARIETY. 
 
 I  think  I  am  correct  when  I  say  that 
 one  of  the  most  common  laws  of  God's 
 works  is  this — unity  in  variety — unity  of 
 principle,  but  variety  and  manifoldness  of 
 manifestation  and  expression.  Let  me  give 
 you  one  or  two  examples.  You  know  how 
 varied  all  organic  nature  is.  There  it  is  in 
 the  clouds,  there  it  is  in  the  rushing  winds, 
 in  the  rolling  ocean,  in  the  flowing  river, 
 in  the  green  field,  in  the  i*ock,  in  the  moun- 
 tain— everywliere  is  organic  nature  ;  and 
 yet  if  you  only  follow  this  out,  take  the 
 clouds,  take  the  river,  take  the  field,  take 
 the  flinty  rock,  take  whatever  you  like  in 
 the  organic  kingdom,  analyse  it,  melt  it, 
 test  it,  and  what  does  it  all  end  in  but 
 this,  that  they  are  all  alike,  that  there  is 
 but  one  principle,  one  elementary  substance 
 throughout  all  this  manifoldness  ?  Look, 
 again,  at  motion — the  rushing  of  the  river, 
 the  falling  of  the  avalanche,  the  flying  of 
 the  bird,  the  heaving  of  the  ocean,  the 
 flowing  of  the  tide,  the  ebbing  of  the  same. 
 In  all  these  there  is  manifold  motion,  won- 
 drous motion,  but  under  all  that  there  is 
 one  law  of  gravity,  and  only  one.  What 
 do  we  see  in  the  exquisite  beauty  and 
 variety  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  ?  We 
 see  the  cedar  stretching  its  noble  arms  on 
 the  brow  of  Lebanon,  the  little  flower 
 bashfully  looking  out  between  the  stones 
 of  the  old  wall  in  ruins,  the  daisy  smiling 
 in  the  sunbeam,  the  forest  waving  on  the 
 mountain  side,  the  rose  blushing  in  the 
 garden.  What  do  we  see  under  all  this 
 variety  but  one  principle  of  life,  the  same 
 in  the  flower  as  in  the  cedar,  the  same  in 
 the  rose  as  in  the  oak,  and  in  all  the 
 variety  of  the  vegetable  kingdom  there  is 
 one  common  principle  of  life.  It  is  a  re- 
 markable fact,  which  the  anatomist  knows 
 
 very  well,  that  in  all  animal  organisms, 
 both  strong  and  weak,  with  their  immense 
 variety  of  form,  there  is  but  one  leading 
 idea,  and  that  every  animal  in  the  world  is 
 built  upon  a  modification  of  the  same  idea 
 as  every  other  animal — the  same  plan,  the 
 same  idea,  only  infinitely  varied,  so  tliat 
 there  again  you  have  an  illustration  of  this 
 law  of  unity  in  variety.  Then  look  a( 
 yourselves,  dear  friends,  and  what  variety 
 is  there  there  ?  Perception,  sensation, 
 memory,  will,  imagination,  reason,  con- 
 sc^ience,  grief,  joy,  revenge,  love,  hatred, 
 hope,  desjiair — all  these  faculties  and  al! 
 the.se  feelings  are  held  together  by  that 
 mysterious  unity  which  you  call  "  I,"  or 
 yourself.  What  variety,  and  yet  what 
 unity  in  variety  is  there  here!  My  brethren, 
 I  did  not  make  these  illustrations  on  pur- 
 pose, or  merely  for  the  sake  of  speaking 
 them,  but  to  show  you  that  this  is  so.  And 
 so  is  it  with  the  spiritual  life.  The  spiri- 
 tual life  is  one — one  in  its  nature,  one  in 
 its  source — but  it  must  have  manifold  ex- 
 pression. If  your  view  is  aright  it  would 
 be  as  unreasonable  for  you  to  try  and  get 
 a  uniformity  of  religious  sentiment  in  the 
 mind  of  man,  as  it  would  be  for  you  to  lay 
 down  the  rule  that  in  the  vegetable  king- 
 dom the  principle  of  vegetable  life  should 
 only  show  itself  in  the  form  of  the  oak  or 
 of  the  cedar.  No,  it  must  have  liberty  to 
 express  itself  in  its  own  way.  "  Now, 
 there  are  diversities  of  gifts,  but  the  same 
 Spirit ;  and  there  are  difterences  of  admi- 
 nistration, but  the  same  Lord;  and  there 
 are  diversities  of  operations,  but  it  is  the 
 same  God  which  worketh  all  in  all ;  but 
 the  manifestation  of  the  Spirit  is  given  to 
 every  man  to  profit  withal.  For  to  one  is 
 given  by  the  Spirit  the  word  of  wisdom  ; 
 to  another  the  word  of  knowledge,  by  the 
 same  Spirit;  to  another  faith,  by  the  same 
 Spirit;  to  another  the  gifts  of  healing, 
 by  the  same  Spirit ;  to  another  the  work- 
 ing of  miracles ;  to  another  prophecy  ;  to 
 another  discerning  of  spirits ;  to  another 
 divers  kinds  of  tongues;  to  another  the 
 interpretation  of  tongues:  but  all  these 
 worketh  that  one  and  the  self-same  Spirit, 
 dividing  to  every  man  severally  as  he  will." 
 T.  Jones. 
 
 UNIVERSE— Theories  of  the. 
 
 Some  say  that  the  universe  sprang  from 
 a  "  fortuitous  concourse  of  eternal  atoms," 
 which  having  exhausted,  in  infinite  ages, 
 infinite  combinations,  at  last  most  oppor- 
 tunely fell  into  the  present  form ;  some 
 that  it  is  the  necessary  development  of  the 
 essential  properties  of  eternal  matter;" 
 one  man  tells  us  that  all  "  organic  forms  " 
 and  all  "  organic  life  "  are  the  result  of  the 
 "  plastic  powers  of  nature,"  whatever  that 
 may  mean;  another  says  that  man  is 
 eternal ; — antecedent  men  and  consequent 
 
UNKNOWN  THINGS  OF  GOD— TTSEFUL. 
 
 baTiies — or  antecedent  babies  and  con- 
 sequent men  for  ever ;  though  whether 
 babies  first  came  from  men,  or  men  from 
 babies,  must  remain  an  "  eternal  "  puzzle ; 
 Bome  say  that  neither  is  true,  but  that  man 
 came  from  a  monkey,  millions  of  ages  ago, 
 and  a  monkey  from  a  tadpole  millions  of 
 ages  before  that,  and  a  tadpole  from — a 
 particle  of  albumen  and  a  spark  of  elec- 
 tricity— millions  of  ages  before  that ;  and 
 these  from  a  "  fire  mist  " — heaven  knows, 
 or  rather  does  not  know,  how  many  millions 
 of  ages  before  that,  and  that  all  this  may 
 have  been  without  any  intelligence  at  all ! 
 Some  say,  with  Comte,  that  all  the  appear- 
 ances of  "design"  are  nothing  in  the 
 world  to  surprise  us,  and  do  not  at  all 
 infer  it ;  they  are  nothing  but  the  "con- 
 ditions of  being,"  without  which  things 
 could  not  exist,  and  consequently  imply 
 only  that  things  arc  as  tliey  are,  for  if 
 they  were  not  so,  they  would  not  be — all 
 which  is  merely  as  plain  as  the  nose  on 
 your  face ;  some  say  that  birds  got  wings 
 (nothing  easier)  by  the  ''  appetency  "  to  fly, 
 and  dogs  got  stomachs  by  the  "appetency" 
 to  eat  because  the  plastic  powers  had  given 
 them  stomachs,  and  birds  the  "appetency" 
 to  fly  because  they  had  wings, — and  which 
 is  first,  "appetencies"  or  "organs,"  or 
 "appetencies,"  may  beadoubt, — but  surely 
 either  will  account  for  the  phenomena  ; 
 some  say  that  the  various  orders  of  ani- 
 mated beings  originated  in  "prolific 
 matter"  running  in  "internal  moulds" 
 or  "matrices"  (whatever  that  means); 
 and  if  you  ask  why  we  do  not  daily  see 
 new  monsters,  I  suppose  it  must  be  said 
 that  the  said  "  matrices  "  were  all  long  ago 
 exhausted  ;  or,  if  you  ask  why  we  do  not 
 at  least  see  new  individuals  of  existing 
 species  originated  in  this  very  obvious  and 
 natural  way  by  means  of  such  a  matrix,  I 
 suppose  it  must  be  said  that  the  original 
 matrices  are  all  broken  to  pieces  !  Some 
 say  that  the  true  doctrine  is  very  different, 
 and  that  one  species  has  been  developed 
 out  of  another,  and  transmuted  into 
 another  by  a  necessary  law  ;  tliat  though 
 no  present  facts  are  in  favour  of  such  a 
 theory,  yet  that  is  no  reason  why  you 
 should  not  believe  (and  certainly  as  little 
 reason  why  you  should)  that  such  things 
 may  have  happened  fifty  million  years 
 ago  ;  and  that  you  may  even  see  a  trifle 
 or  two  of  the  same  kind,  confirming  this 
 obvious  hypothesis,  if  you  only  live  for 
 thirty  millions  of  years  to  come.  Others 
 there  are  who  tell  us  that  the  whole 
 universe  is  an  ideal  thing ;  and  compress- 
 ing the  voluminous  phenomenon  into  the 
 one  mind  that  alone  thinks  it  into  being, 
 reduces  everything  to  the  solitary  "  ego, " 
 — of  which  pleasing  theory  there  are  at 
 least  half-a-dozen  modifications. 
 
 H.  Rogers. 
 
 UNKNOWN  THINGS  OF  GOD. 
 
 There  are  shores  paved  with  shells  which 
 no  human  foot  has  trod  ;  there  are  fields 
 carpeted  with  flowers  which  human  eyes 
 have  never  seen  ;  there  are  seas  inlaid  with 
 pearls  which  human  research  has  never 
 found  out ;  so  there  are  things  in  the  great 
 mind  of  God  itself,  and  in  the  Scriptures, 
 which  lie  concealed  from  the  most  powerful 
 mental  efforts  of  human  intellect. 
 
 Dr.  Guthrie. 
 USEFUL— All  may  be. 
 
 ]\Iany,  influenced  by  fear  or  pride,  re- 
 fuse to  shine  as  twinkling  stars  because 
 they  cannot  flame  as  blazing  suns.  They 
 will  not  pour  the  murmurs  of  the  cascade 
 around  them,  because  they  cannot  rush 
 and  roar  like  Niagara.  They  will  not  fan 
 the  fevered  brow  of  humanity  with  the 
 light  wing  of  zephyr,  because  they  have 
 not  been  permitted  by  nature  and  grace  to 
 career  with  the  whirlwind.  Now  aU  sucti 
 men  should  remember  that  gunboats  are 
 often  more  useful  than  three-deckers.  The 
 sun  is  useful,  so  is  a  torch  carried  to  men 
 lost  in  a  cavern.  A  chariot  of  fire  and 
 horses  of  fire  were  sent  to  take  Elijah  to 
 heaven,  but  the  ravens  were  sent  to  feed 
 him.  Remington. 
 
 USEFUL— Dead. 
 
 The  cedar  is  the  most  useful  when  dead. 
 It  is  the  most  productive  when  its  ]>lace 
 knows  it  no  more.  There  is  no  timber  like 
 it.  Firm  in  grain,  and  capable  of  the 
 finest  polish,  the  tooth  of  no  insect  will 
 touch  it,  and  Time  himself  can  hardly 
 destroy  it.  Diffusing  a  perpetual  fragrance 
 through  the  chamber  which  it  ceils,  the 
 worm  will  not  corrode  the  book  which  it 
 protects,  nor  the  moth  corrupt  the  gar- 
 ment which  it  guards— all  but  immortal 
 itself,  it  transfuses  its  amaranthine  quali- 
 ties to  the  objects  around  it. 
 
 Every  Christian  is  useful  in  his  life,  but 
 the  goodly  cedars  are  the  most  useful 
 afterwards.  Luther  is  dead,  but  the  Refor- 
 mation lives. 
 
 Calvin  is  dead,  but  his  vindication  of 
 God's  free  and  sovereign  grace  will  never 
 die.  Knox,  Melville,  and  Henderson  are 
 dead,  but  Scotland  still  retains  a  Sabbath 
 and  a  Christian  peasantry,  a  Bible  in  every 
 house,  and  school  in  every  parish. 
 
 Bunyau  is  dead,  but  his  bright  spirit  still 
 walks  the  earth  in  his  'Pilgrim's  Pro- 
 gress.' Baxter  is  dead,  but  souls  are  still 
 quickened  by  the  'Saint's  Rest.'  Cowper 
 is  dead,  but  the  "golden  apples"  are  stiU 
 as  fresh  as  when  newly  gathered  in  the 
 "  silver  basket  "  of  the  '  Olney  Hymns.' 
 
 Elliott  is  dead,  but  the  missionary  enter- 
 prise is  young.  Henry  Martyn  is  dead, 
 but  who  can  count  the  apostolic  spirits 
 
USEnjlNESS— VANITY  OF  EARTHLY  THINGS. 
 
 870 
 
 who,  phccnixwise,  have  started  from   his 
 funeral  pile  ? 
 
 Howard  is  dead,  but  modern  philan- 
 thropy is  only  commencing  its  career. 
 Raikes  is  dead,  but  the  Sabbath-schools 
 go  on.  Wilberforce  is  dead,  but  the  negro 
 will  find  for  ages  a  protector  in  his  memory. 
 Dr.  J.  Ramilton. 
 
 USEFULNESS— in  old  age. 
 
 On  the  day  of  his  death,  in  his  eightieth 
 year,  Elliott,  "the  apostle  of  the  Indians," 
 was  found  teaching  the  alphabet  to  an 
 Indian  child  at  his  bed-side.  "  Why  not 
 rest  from  your  labours  now  ?"  said  a  friend. 
 "  Because,"  said  the  venerable  man,  "  I 
 have  prayed  God  to  render  me  useful  in 
 my  sphere,  and  He  has  heard  my  prayers  ; 
 fur  now  that  I  can  no  longer  preach.  He 
 leaves  me  strength  enough  to  teach  this 
 poor  child  his  alphabet."  J.  Chaplin. 
 
 UTILITAEIAN. 
 
 He  is  a  slave  to  science.     He  would  pull 
 Great  Heaven  to  pieces,  and  anatomise 
 Each  fragment  of  its  crystal  battlements. 
 Weigh  out  its  hymns,  divide  its  light,  and 
 
 class 
 The  radiant  feathers  of  archangels'  wings. 
 Cornwall. 
 
 V. 
 
 VAIN  PURSUITS. 
 
 As  you  may  often  see  a  boy  on  a  sum- 
 mer's day  prefer  chasing  a  butterfly,  or 
 gathering  daisies,  to  the  exercises  of  the 
 school,  by  whicli  he  may  gain  knowledge, 
 so  you  may  see  many  men  who  leave  the 
 solid  paths  of  knowledge,  industry,  and 
 lawful  pleasure,  in  order  to  follow  the 
 short-lived  things  of  this  world.         Anon. 
 
 VALETUDINARIAN— Description  of  the. 
 Some  men  employ  their  health,  an  ugly 
 
 trick,  [sick. 
 
 In  making  known  how  oft  they  have  been 
 And  give  us,  in  recitals  of  disease, 
 A  doctor's  trouble,  but  without  his  fees; 
 Relate  how  many  weeks  they  kept  their  bed, 
 How  an  emetic  or  cathartic  sped; 
 Nothing  is   slightly   touched,   much   less 
 
 forgot,  [spot. 
 
 Nose,  ears,  and  eyes,  seem  present  on  the 
 Now  the  distemper,  spite  of  draught  or 
 
 pill,  [skill ; 
 
 Victorious  seemed,  and  now  the  doctor's 
 And  now — alas  for  unforeseen  mishaps ! 
 They  put  on  a  damp  nightcap  and  relapse ; 
 They  thought  they  must  have  died,  they 
 
 were  so  bad, 
 Their  peevish  hearers  almost  wish  thoy  had. 
 Cowper. 
 
 VALIANCY— True. 
 
 If  thou  desire  to  be  truly  valiant,  fear 
 to  do  any  injury  ;  he  that  fears  not  to  do 
 evil  is  always  afraid  to  suffer  evil ;  he  that 
 never  fears  is  desperate ;  and  he  that  fears 
 always  is  a  coward  :  he  is  the  true  valiant 
 man  that  dares  nothing  but  what  he  may, 
 and  fears  nothing  but  what  he  ought. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 VALIANT  AND  TIMOROUS. 
 
 The  valiant  standeth  as  a  rock,  and  the 
 
 billows  break  upon  him  ; 
 The  timorous  is  a  skiff  unmoored,  tost  and 
 
 mocked  at  by  a  ripple ; 
 The  valiant  holdeth  fast  to  good  till  evil 
 
 wrench  it  from  him  ; 
 The  timorous  casLeth  it  aside,  to  meet  the 
 
 worst  half-way.  Tapper. 
 
 VANITY— Pre-eminent. 
 
 No  vanity  is  so  vain  as  the  trusting  in 
 vanity ;  all  the  vanity  in  the  creature 
 amounts  not  to  so  much  vanity  as  the  trust- 
 ing in  vanity.  Jeremiah  Burrouglis, 
 
 VANITY— Rebuked. 
 
 A  young  clergyman  boasting  among  his 
 relations  of  having  been  educated  at  two 
 colleges,  Havard  and  Cambridge,  an  aged 
 divine,  being  present,  said,  "  You  remind 
 me  of  an  instance  I  knew,  of  a  calf  that 
 sucked  two  cows."  "  What  was  that  ?" 
 said  a  third  person.  "  Why,  sir,  the  con- 
 sequence was,  that  he  was  a  very  great 
 calf."  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 There  was  one  Michael  Fenwick  that 
 travelled  with  Wesley  as  a  sort  of  groom, 
 nurse,  and  occasional  exhorter.  The  good 
 man  was  vain  enough  to  complain,  one  day, 
 that  his  name  was  never  inserted  in  Wes- 
 ley's published  '  Journals.'  In  the  next 
 number  of  the '  Journals'  he  found  his  name 
 in  a  coiinection  that  probably  did  not  serve 
 to  increase  his  vanity.  "I  left  Epworth," 
 wrote  Wesley,  "with  great  satisfaction, 
 and  about  one  preached  at  Clayworth.  I 
 think  none  were  unmoved  but  Michael 
 Fenwick,  who  fell  fast  asleep  under  an  ad- 
 joining hayrick."  Dr.  Haven, 
 
 VANITY  OF  EARTHLY  THINGS. 
 
 Mr.  Locke,  about  two  months  before  his 
 death,  drew  up  a  letter  to  a  certain  gentle- 
 man, and  left  his  direction  on  it — "  To  be 
 delivered  to  him  after  my  decease."  la 
 it  are  these  remarkable  words  : — "  This  lite 
 is  a  scene  of  anity  that  soon  passes  away, 
 and  affords  no  solid  satisfaction  but  in  the 
 consciousness  of  doing  well,  and  in  the 
 hopes  of  another  life.  This  is  what  I  can 
 say  upon  experience,  and  what  you  will 
 find  to  be  true  when  you  came  to  make  up 
 the  account."  J.  Whitecross. 
 
VANITY  OF  EARTHLY  THINGS— VAST  AND  THE  MINXTTE, 
 
 871 
 
 VANITY  OF  EARTHLY  THINGS. 
 
 How  vain  is  all  beneath  the  skies ! 
 
 How  transient  every  earthly  bliss, 
 How  slender  all  the  fondest  ties 
 
 That  bind  us  to  a  world  like  this ! 
 The  evening  cloud,  the  morning  dew, 
 
 The  with'ring  grass,  the  fading  flower, 
 Of  earthly  hopes  are  emblems  true — 
 
 The  glory  of  a  passing  hour. 
 But  though  earth's  fairest  blossoms  die. 
 
 And  all  beneath  the  skies  is  vain, 
 There  is  a  brighter  world  on  high, 
 
 Beyond  the  reach  of  care  and  pain. 
 Then  let  the  hope  of  joys  to  come. 
 
 Dispel  our  cares  and  chase  our  fears ; 
 If  God  be  ours,  we're  trav'ling  home, 
 
 Though  passing  through  a  vale  of  tears. 
 Pratt. 
 
 VANITY  OF  VANITIES. 
 
 "Wherefore  bethink  thyself  at  length,  0 
 deluded  world,  and  write  over  all  thy 
 school  doors,  "Let  not  the  wise  man  glory 
 in  his  wisdom;"  over  all  thy  court-gates, 
 "Let  not  the  mighty  man  glory  in  his 
 might ; "  over  all  thy  exchanges  and  banks, 
 "Let  not  the  rich  man  glory  in  his  riches." 
 Write  upon  thy  looking-glasses  that  of 
 Bathsheba,  ' '  Favour  is  deceitful,  and 
 beauty  is  vain ;"  upon  thy  mews  and 
 artillery  yards  that  of  the  psalmist,  "God 
 delighteth  not  in  the  strength  of  a  horse. 
 He  taketh  not  pleasure  in  the  legs  of  a 
 man  ;"  upon  thy  taverns,  inns,  and  ale- 
 houses, that  of  Solomon,  ' '  Wine  is  a 
 mocker,  strong  drink  is  raging,  and  who- 
 soever is  deceived  thereby  is  not  wise  ;" 
 upon  thy  magazines  and  wardrobes,  that 
 of  our  Saviour,  ' '  Lay  not  up  for  yourselves 
 treasures  on  earth,  where  moth  and  rust 
 doth  corrupt,  and  where  thieves  break 
 through  and  steal."  Write  upon  thy 
 counting-houses  that  of  Habakkuk,  "Woe 
 to  him  that  increaseth  that  which  is  not 
 his,  how  long  ?  and  to  him  that  loadeth 
 himself  with  thick  clay  ;"  thy  playhouses, 
 that  of  Paul,  ' '  Lovers  of  pleasure  more 
 than  lovers  of  God ;"  thy  banqueting 
 houses  that  of  the  same  holy  apostle, 
 "Meats  for  the  belly  and  the  belly  for 
 meats,  but  God  shall  destroy  both  them  and 
 it ;"  yea,  upon  all  thine  accommodations 
 that  of  the  preacher,  "Vanity  of  vanities  ; 
 all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 
 
 Dr.  Arrowsmith. 
 
 It  is  at  this  moment,  more  than  ever, 
 we  are  justified  in  saying  with  the  wise 
 man,  "  Vanity  of  vanities  ;  all  is  vanity." 
 Where  is  now  the  splendour  of  the  consu- 
 late? Where  their  brilliancy  of  lamps 
 and  torches  ?  The  feast  of  joyous  assem- 
 blies ?  Where  are  the  crowns  and  maguifi-  i 
 cent   ornaments  ?      Where   the  flattering 
 
 reports  of  the  city — the  acclamations  of 
 the  circus — the  adulations  of  thousands  of 
 spectators  ?  All  have  passed  away  !  The 
 wind  by  one  blast  has  swept  the  leaves, 
 and  now  they  show  to  us  a  dead  tree,  torn 
 from  its  roots, — so  violent  has  been  the 
 tempest.  It  lies  a  broken  ruin.  Where 
 are  the  pretended"  friends — the  swarm  of 
 parasites — the  tables-  charged  with  luxury 
 — the  wine  circulated  during  entire  days  ; 
 where  the'  various  refinements  of  feasting 
 — the  supple  language  of  slaves  ?  What 
 has  become  of  them  all  ?  A  dream  of  the 
 niglit,  which  vanishes  with  the  day  !  A 
 flower  of  spring,  which  fades  in  the  .summer 
 — a  shade  which  passes  ! — a  vapour  which 
 scatters  ! — a  bubble  of  water  which  bursts ! 
 — a  spider's  web  which  is  torn  down ! 
 "Vanity  of  vanities;  all  is  vanity."  In- 
 scribe these  words  on  your  walls,  on  your 
 vestments,  on  your  palaces,  on  your  streets, 
 your  houses,  on  your  windows,  on  your 
 doors  ;  inscribe  them  on  your  consciences, 
 in  order  that  they  may  represent  it  inces- 
 santly to  your  thoughts.  Repeat  them  in 
 the  morning  ;  repeat  them  in  the  evening ; 
 and  in  the  assemblies  of  fashion  let  each 
 repeat  to  his  neighbour,  "  Vanity  of  vani- 
 ties ;  all  is  vanity."  St.  Chrysostom. 
 
 VARIETIES— Pleasures  of. 
 
 Variety's  the  source  of  joy  below, 
 
 From  which  stiU  fresh  revolving  pleasures 
 flow; 
 
 In  books  and  love,  the  mind  one  end  pur- 
 sues. 
 
 And  only  change  the  expiring  flame  re- 
 news. Gay. 
 
 VAST  AND  THE  MINUTE. 
 
 The  telescope  led  me  to  see  a  system  in 
 every  star  ;  the  microscope  leads  me  to  see 
 a  world  in  every  atom.  The  one  taught 
 me  that  this  mighty  globe,  with  tlie  whole 
 burden  of  its  people  and  its  countries,  is 
 but  a  grain  of  sand  on  the  high  field  of 
 immensity;  the  other  teaches  me  that 
 every  grain  of  sand  may  harbour  within  it 
 the  tribes  and  families  of  a  busy  population. 
 The  one  told  me  of  the  insigiuliiuiiii'e  of 
 the  world  I  tread  on  ;  the  other  redeems 
 it  from  all  its  insignificance,  for  it  tells  me 
 that  in  the  leaves  of  every  forest,  and  in 
 the  flowers  of  every  garden,  and  in  the 
 waters  of  every  rivulet,  there  are  worlds 
 teeming  with  life,  and  numberless  as  are 
 the  glories  of  the  firmament.  The  one  has 
 suggested  to  me  that,  beyond  and  above 
 all  "that  is  visible  in  man,  there  may  be 
 fields  of  creation  which  sweep  immeasurably 
 along,  and  carry  the  impress  of  the  Al- 
 mighty's hand  to  the  remotest  scenes  of 
 the  universe ;  the  other  suggests  to  me 
 that  within  and  beneath  all  that  minute- 
 ness which  the  aided  eye  of  man  has  been' 
 able  to  explore,  there  may  lie  a  region  of 
 
VERACITY  THE  BEST  POLICY— VIGILANCE. 
 
 invisibles  ;  and  that,  could  we  draw  aside 
 the  inystcrious  curtain  which  shrouds  it 
 from  our  senses,  we  might  see  there  a  thea- 
 tre of  as  many  wonders  as  astronomy  has 
 unfolded,  a  universe  within  the  compass  of 
 a  point,  so  small  as  to  elude  all  the  powers 
 of  the  microscope,  but  where  the  wonder- 
 working God  finds  room  for  the  exercise 
 of  all  His  attriliutes,  where  He  can  raise 
 another  mechanism  of  worMs  and  fill  and 
 animate  them  all  with  the  evidences  of  his 
 glory.  Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 VERACITY  TEE  BEST  POLICY. 
 
 It  is  related  of  a  Persian  mother,  on 
 giving  her  son  forty  pieces  of  silver  as  his 
 portion,  she  made  him  swear  never  to  tell 
 a  lie,  and  said  ; 
 
 ■'Go,  my  son  ;  I  consign  thee  to  God  ! 
 and  we  shall  not  meet  here  again  till  the 
 flay  of  judgment." 
 
 The  youth  went  away,  and  the  party  he 
 travelled  with  were  assaulted  by  robbers. 
 One  fellow  asked  the  boy  what  he  had,  and 
 he  answered  : 
 
 ' '  Forty  dinars  are  sewed  up  in  my  gar- 
 piputs." 
 
 The  robber  laughed,  thinking  that  the 
 hoy  jested.  Another  asked  the  same 
 .■[uestion,  and  received  the  same  answer. 
 At  last  the  chief  called  him,  and  asked 
 what  he  had.     The  boy  replied  : 
 
 "  I  have  told  two  of  your  people  already 
 that  I  had  forty  dinars  sewed  up  in  mj 
 clothes." 
 
 The  chief  ordered  his  clothes  to  be  ripped 
 open,  and  the  money  was  found. 
 
 "  And  how  came  you  to  tell  this  ?" 
 
 "Because,"  replied  the  boy,  ■"  I  would 
 not  be  false  to  my  mother,  to  whom  I 
 promised  never  to  tell  a  lie." 
 
 "Child,"  said  the  robber,  "art  thou  so 
 mindful  of  thy  duty  to  thy  mother,  and  J 
 am  insensible  at  my  age  of  the  duty  I  owe 
 to  God  ?  Give  me  thy  hand,  that  I  may 
 swear  repentance  on  it." 
 
 He  did  so,  and  his  followers  were  struck 
 with  the  scene. 
 
 "  You  have  been  our  leader  in  guilt," 
 they  said  to  the  chief — "Ije  the  same  in 
 the  path  of  virtue  ;"  and  taking  the  boy's 
 hand,  they  took  the  oath  of  repentance 
 on  it.  3r.  Haven. 
 
 VERACITY  AND  TRUTH— Definition  of. 
 
 Veracity  is  the  correspondence  between 
 a  projiosition  and  a  man's  belief 
 
 Truth  is  the  correspondence  of  the  pro- 
 position with  fact.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 VIRTUE — Assumption  of. 
 
 There  is  no  vice  so  simple  but  assumes 
 Some  mark  of  virtue  on  its  outward  parts. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 VICE— a  Monster. 
 
 Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
 As,  to  be  dreaded,  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 
 But,  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
 We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace. 
 Pope. 
 VICE  AND  VIRTUE. 
 
 Come,  sinner,  prepare  thy  pencil,  min- 
 gle the  richest  colours  thou  canst  get, 
 draw  thy  sinful  careless  life,  give  it  a  beau- 
 tiful virgin's  face;  draw  all  the  charms 
 that  thy  fancy  can  find  out ;  here,  draw 
 the  adoration  the  world  pays  unto  her ; 
 there,  the  bows  and  cringes  whereby  both 
 great  and  small  insinuate  into  her  favour. 
 On  her  head  draw  a  tree  whose  fruit  is 
 gold,  and  the  dew  thereof  hardens  into 
 pearls;  let  her  right  hand  grasp  a  crown, 
 her  left  drop  gifts  on  her  clients  and 
 votaries.  But  then,  when  this  proud  pea- 
 cock is  drawn  thus,  in  all  her  dazzling 
 circles,  forget  not  to  draw  her  ugly  feet — I 
 mean  an  umiuiet,  roaring,  disturbed,  dis- 
 tracted, trembling  conscience  ;  for  into  this 
 dismal  shape  doth  that  lovely  mermaid 
 end.  On  the  other  side,  I'll  paint  a  wil- 
 derness, a  grove,  which  wise  nature  made, 
 and  in  it  I'U  represent  a  devout  soul 
 kneeling,  and,  with  the  publican,  smiting 
 upon  her  breast ;  then  will  I  draw  heaven, 
 and  out  of  that  heaven  grace  and  mercy 
 in  the  shape  of  an  angel,  flying  down  with 
 this  message,  "Fear  not,  I  have  redeemed 
 thee,  thou  art  mine  ;"  and  holding  a  bottle 
 under  to  catch  her  teai's.  Immediately 
 upon  this,  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  be  seen 
 descending,  spreading  His  beams,  and 
 warning  that  soul,  and  invigorating  it  to 
 resist  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil. 
 By-and-bye  the  glory  of  God  shall  appear, 
 and  crown  all  with  peace  and  joy,  and  in- 
 finite content,  and  eternal  hallelujahs. 
 
 Atithmiy  Horneck. 
 
 VICES. 
 
 Many  a  man's  vices  have  at  first  been 
 nothing  worse  than  good  qualities  run 
 wild.  Hare. 
 
 VICISSITUDES  OF  LIFE. 
 
 Such  are  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  through 
 all  its  parts,  that  day  and  night,  labour 
 and  rest,  hurry  and  retirement,  em  1  ear 
 each  other.  Such  are  the  changes  that 
 keep  the  mind  in  action ;  we  desire,  we 
 pursue,  we  obtain,  we  are  satisfied ;  we 
 desire  something  else,  and  begin  a  new 
 pursuit.  Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 VIGILANCE— CHRISTIAN. 
 
 When  Pompeii  was  destroyed,  there 
 were  many  buried  in  the  ruins  of  it  who 
 were  afterwards  found  in  different  situa- 
 tions.     There  were  some  found  in  deep 
 
VIGILANCE -VIRTUE. 
 
 873 
 
 vaults,  as  if  they  had  gone  thither  for 
 security.  There  were  some  fouud  who  were 
 in  the  streets,  as  if  they  had  been  attempt- 
 ing to  make  their  escape.  There  were  some 
 fouud  in  lofty  chambers.  But  where  did 
 they  find  the  Roman  Sentinel  ?  They  found 
 him  standing  at  the  city  gate,  with  his 
 hand  still  grasping  his  war- weapon,  where 
 he  had  been  placed  by  his  captain  ;  and 
 there,  where  the  heavens  threatened  him, 
 there,  where  the  earth  shook  beneath  him, 
 there,  where  the  lava  stream  rolled,  he 
 stood  at  his  post,  and  there,  after  a  thou- 
 sand years  had  passed  away,  he  was  found. 
 So  let  Christians  learn  to  stand  to  their 
 duty,  willing  to  stand  at  the  post  on  which 
 their  Captain  has  placed  them,  and  they 
 will  find  that  grace  will  support  and  sus- 
 tain them.  Anon. 
 
 VIGILANCE— Use  of. 
 
 Vigilance  is  the  safety  lamp  of  life. 
 What  the  lighthouse  is  to  the  vessel  in  tlie 
 nmrky  night,  nearing  the  rock  and 
 treacherous  banks ;  what  the  torch  is  to 
 the  traveller  who  has  been  enveloped  in 
 thick  mists ;  what  the  lantern  is  to  the 
 miner  who  creeps  from  gallery  to  gallery 
 along  the  low  corridors  which  penetrate 
 the  bowels  of  the  earth  wherein  the  fire- 
 damp hangs  round  about  his  way  ;  what 
 the  genial  bUize  on  the  cottage  hearth  is 
 to  the  sliepherd  as  he  comes  from  afar  over 
 the  morass  or  moor  ;  what  the  branch  of 
 tlie  green  tree  was  to  Columbus  as  it 
 floated  past  his  vessel's  side,  the  sure  and 
 blessed  harbinger  of  a  not  distant  land — 
 such  is  vigilance  to  man's  life.  Never  in 
 all  the  admonitions  wliich  fell  from  those 
 holy  lips  did  Christ  impress  ui)on  the  mind 
 of  man  a  more  solemn  duty  than  when  He 
 proclaimed,  "  What  I  say  unto  you,  I  say 
 unto  all.  Watch  !  Not  in  the  series  of 
 parables  wherewith  He  engraved  His 
 thoughts  by  illustration  and  simile  upon 
 His  hearers  did  He  ever  insist  upon  any 
 duty  which  is  more  completely  a  guide  to 
 our  path,  a  light  upon  our  way,  a  warning 
 against  danger,  and  source  of  internal 
 confidence  in  pursuit  of  the  discovery  of 
 another  and  a  better  world  than  is  vigi- 
 lance. /.  C.  M.  Bellciu. 
 
 VIRTUE— Active  and  Passive. 
 
 We  raise  a  distinction,  as  among  our- 
 selves, between  what  we  call  the  active 
 and  passive  virtues.  Not  that  all  virtues 
 are  not  equally  active,  in  the  sense  of  being 
 voluntary,  or  free,  but  that  in  some  of 
 them  we  communicate,  and  in  some  of 
 them  we  receive  action.  If  I  impart  a 
 charity,  that  is  my  active  virtue  ;  if  I 
 receive  an  insult,  without  revenging,  or 
 wishing  to  revenge  it,  that  is  my  passive 
 virtue.  All  the  wrong  acts  done  us,  and 
 also  all  the  good,   are  occasions  of  some 
 
 appropriate,  proportionate,  and  really 
 great  feeling,  which  is  our  passive  virtue. 
 And  without  this  passive  virtue  in  its 
 varieties  we  should  be  only  no-characters, 
 dry  logs  of  wood,  instead  of  Christian  men. 
 Or,  if  we  kept  on  acting,  still  we  should  be 
 only  active  machines,  equally  dry  as  wood, 
 and  only  making  more  of  noise  ;  for  what 
 better  is  the  active  giving  of  a  charity  if 
 there  be  no  fellow-feeling  or  pitying  pas- 
 sion with  it  to  make  it  a  charity  ? 
 
 Dr.  Bushncll. 
 
 VIRTUE— Admiring. 
 
 Such  as  profess  to  admire  virtue,  but  do 
 not  practise  it,  are  like  a  harp  which  gives 
 a  pleasing  sound  to  others,  but  the  iust*:;- 
 ment  itself  receives  no  pleasure. 
 
 Diogenes, 
 
 VIRTUE— in  Adversity. 
 
 Virtue  is  like  precious  odours,  most 
 fragrant  when  they  are  incensed  ot 
 crushed  ;  for  prosperity  doth  best  discover 
 vice,  but  adversity  doth  best  discover 
 virtue.  Lord  Bacon. 
 
 VIRTUE— Charm  of. 
 
 Virtue  is  the  universal  charm  ;  even  its 
 shadow  is  courted  when  the  substance  is 
 wanting.  Dr.  Blair. 
 
 VIRTUE— when  Commendable. 
 
 The  more  the  virtues  that  we  practise 
 are  contrary  to  our  natural  disposition, 
 to  our  constitution,  or  to  our  darling  pro- 
 pensities, the  more  resplendent  and  excel- 
 lent are  they.  Need  we  indeed  be  surprised 
 at  it,  when  we  see  the  miser  live  frugally  ; 
 the  spendthrift  liberal  and  bountiful ;  the 
 voluptuary  is  tender-hearted,  compas- 
 sionate, and  sometimes  ready  to  do  a  kind 
 office,  that  the  proud  man  is  oi;casionally 
 magnanimous  ?  How  small  is  their  merit 
 in  these  particulars  !  They  do  no  more 
 than  follow  their  predominant  passions, 
 and  it  would  be  difficult  for  them  to  think 
 and  to  act  otherwise  than  they  do.  But 
 if  he  who  is  by  nature  prone  to  anger,  to 
 rage,  to  resentment,  to  revenge,  bridles  and 
 tames  these  furious  passions  ;  if  he  learns 
 to  govern  himself  and  to  suppress  every 
 irregular  motion  as  it  rises  ;  if  he  remains 
 calm  when  injured  or  insulted ;  if  he  is 
 candid,  patient,  and  gentle  ;  if  he  repays 
 evil  with  good,  and  shows  himself  merciful 
 and  generous  even  to  his  enemies  ;  and  if 
 he  do  all  this  from  obedience  to  God  and 
 from  love  to  Christ  ;  his  virtue  then  is  of 
 great  value,  and  God  Himself  has  a  pecu- 
 liar complacency  in  it.  The  same  verdict 
 ought  we  to  pass  on  the  abstinence  of  him 
 who  by  the  force  of  temperament  is  in- 
 cited to  animal  gratifications.  If  he  firmly 
 resists  that  incitement  ;  if  he  strives  to 
 maintain  an  unspotted  chastity  and  purity ; 
 
874 
 
 VIRTUE— VIRTUES. 
 
 if  he  coTistantlj'  watchos  and  prays  that  he 
 may  not  fall  into  temptation  ;  if  he  keeps 
 his  body  under  that  he  may  not  be  a  cast- 
 away ;  if  he  denies  himself  even  lawful  and 
 innocent  pleasures  in  order  to  moderate 
 and  confine  his  sensual  appetites  ;  if  he 
 daily  refines  his  taste  and  asserts  the  dignity 
 of  his  immortal  mind  ;  he  then  is  one  of 
 those  conquerors  over  whom  all  heaven 
 resounds  with  applause,  and  who  will  here- 
 after be  promoted  to  the  foremost  stations 
 among  the  perfected  spirits  of  the  just. 
 
 G.  J.  Zollikofer. 
 
 VIRTUE— Constrained  and  Voluntary. 
 
 A  man  sometimes  finils  himself  in  such 
 circumstances  as  compel  him,  in  a  manner, 
 to  perform  a  charitable  act,  though  he  have 
 otherwise  ever  little  so  inclination.  The 
 sad  view  of  the  miserable  object  that  sues 
 to  him  for  relief,  the  repeated  urgent  soli- 
 citations, the  unwearied  perseverance  with 
 ■which  he  endeavours  to  move  his  heart  to 
 pity,  the  disagreeable  and  painful  sensa- 
 tions thereby  excited  in  his  breast,  the 
 uneasiness  and  disgrace  wliich  an  abrupt 
 refusal  might  perhaps  bring  upon  him,  or 
 even  the  pret-euce  of  such  persons  by  whom 
 he  fain  would  avoid  being  suspected  of 
 uncharitableness  and  avarice  ;  all  this  ex- 
 torts from  him  some  few  donations  which 
 perhaps  in  themselves  are  considerable,  but 
 by  the  manner  in  which  they  are  given 
 li'se  the  whole  of  their  value.  The  sincere 
 Christian,  on  the  contrary,  finds  his  purest 
 satisfaction  in  doing  good  ;  he  does  not 
 wait  till  he  is  roused  to  it  by  siglis  and 
 tears  ;  he  generally,  if  his  means  allow  of 
 it,  anticipates  the  requests  of  the  indigent 
 or  the  distressed ;  he  gladly  embraces  all 
 opportunities  of  succouring  others,  and 
 tiuiformly  employs  them  in  such  manner 
 as  is  least  irksome  and  humiliating  to  those 
 
 whom  he  relieves. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 VIRTUE— Nobility  of.     • 
 
 Virtue  alone  is  true  nobility,  therefore 
 the  most  virtuous  are  the  most  noble.  A 
 virtuous  friend  should  be  esteemed  above 
 a  vicious  relation  ;  for  the  ties  of  virtue 
 are  more  binding  than  those  of  blood,  and 
 every  good  person  is  nearer  related  to 
 another  good  person  than  he  can  possibly 
 be  to  any  of  his  immoral  relations. 
 
 Antisthencs. 
 
 VIRTUE— Permanence  of. 
 
 When  King  Demetrius  had  sacked  and 
 razed  the  city  of  Magaera  to  the  very 
 foundation,  he  demanded  of  Stilpo  the 
 philosopher  what  losses  he  had  sustained  ? 
 "None  at  all,"  said  Stilpo,  "  for  war  can 
 make  no  spoil  of  virtue."  And  'tis  said  of 
 Bias,  that  his  motto  was,  Omnea  mea 
 inccuvi  porto,  I  carry  all  nry  goods  with 
 me,  viz.  his  goodness.  Venning. 
 
 VIRTUE— Unchangeable. 
 
 The  principles  of  virtue,  like  the  ele- 
 ments of  nature,  are  ever  identical  in 
 essence  but  changeful  in  form. 
 
 Dr.  Thomas. 
 
 VIRTUE— Use  of 
 
 Virtue  is  that  which  must  tip  the 
 preacher's  tongue  and  the  ruler's  sceptre 
 with  authority.  Dr.  South. 
 
 VIRTUE— Value  of 
 
 To  little  minds  alone  is  it  necessary  to 
 recommend  virtue  by  great  names.  If  an 
 action  be  not  intrinsically  good,  the  name 
 of  Socrates,  of  Ciesar,  of  Cato,  or  of  Plato, 
 can  stamp  no  excellence  on  it ;  and  if  a 
 sentiment  be  false,  it  cannot  be  rendered 
 otherwise  by  affixing  a  large  number  of 
 the  greatest  names  to  it.  Scraggs. 
 
 Virtue  loses  not  its  worth  by  being 
 slighted  by  the  world,  any  more  than  a 
 pearl  or  a  jewel  is  disesteemed  by  filthy 
 swine,  or  tlie  foolish  cock  who  may  prefer 
 barley-corns  to  them.  Jbid. 
 
 VIRTUE  AND  HONOUR. 
 
 Virtue  derives  her  name  from  vir,  be- 
 cause virtue  is  the  most  manly  ornament. 
 She  was  esteemed  a  goddess,  and  wor- 
 shipped in  the  habit  of  an  eldeidy  matron 
 sitting  upon  a  S(iiiare  stone.  M.  Marcdlus 
 dedicated  a  temple  to  her,  and  hard  by 
 placed  another,  that  was  dedicated  to 
 honour  ;  the  temple  of  virtue  was  the  pas- 
 sage to  honour;  by  which  was  signified, 
 that  by  virtue  alone  true  honour  is  ob- 
 tained. Andrew  Tooke. 
 
 VIRTUE  AND  POVERTY. 
 
 For  when,  virtue  came  from  heaven  (as 
 ihe  poet  feigns),  rich  men  kicked  her  up, 
 wicked  men  abhorred  her,  courtiers  scoffed 
 at  her,  citizens  hated  her;  and  that  she 
 was  thrust  out  of  doors  in  ever}'  place,  she 
 came  at  last  to  her  sister  Poverty,  where 
 she  had  found  good  entertainment.  Poverty 
 and  Virtue  dwell  together.  Burton. 
 
 VIRTUE  AND  VICE. 
 
 Virtue  is  the  beauty,  and  vice  the  de- 
 formity of  the  soul.  Socrates. 
 
 VIRTUE  AND  VICE— Prophets. 
 
 Virtue  and  vice  are  both  prophets,  the 
 first  of  certain  good,  the  second  of  iiain  or 
 else  of  penitence.  Venning. 
 
 VIRTUES— Counterfeit. 
 
 Every  virtue  has  its  counterfeit.  It  is 
 desirable  to  be  wise,  but  not  as  Eve  sought 
 wisdom.  Husbands  should  love  their 
 wives,  but  not  as  Adam  did,  in  heai-kcning 
 to  Eve  when  she  urged  him  to  sin.     We 
 
VIETUES -VOWS. 
 
 875 
 
 ©uglit  to  worship  Gorl,  but  not  as  Cain 
 dill,  disregarding  (rod's  appointed  way. 
 Wives  should  obej'  their  husbands,  but  not 
 as  Sarah  did  Abraham,  in  consenting  to 
 tell  a  lie.  Servants  should  take  care  of 
 their  master's  property,  but  not  as  Abra- 
 ham's and  Lot's  herdsmen,  to  quarrel  about 
 it.  Children  should  obey  their  parents, 
 but  not  Jis  Jacob  obeyed  Kebecca.  We 
 should  desire  to  forward  the  accomplish- 
 ment of  God's  declared  will,  but  not  as 
 Rebecca  did,  by  doing  evil  that  good  might 
 come.  B.  E.  Nicholls. 
 
 VIRTUES— Great. 
 
 Do  not  be  troubled  because  you  have 
 not  great  virtues.  God  made  a  million 
 B  lears  of  grass  where  He  made  one  tree. 
 The  earth  is  fringed  and  carpeted,  not 
 with  forests,  but  with  gra.s.ses.  Ouly  have 
 enough  of  little  virtues  and  common  fide- 
 lities, and  you  need  not  mourn  because 
 you  are  neither  a  hero  or  a  .saint. 
 
 H.  W.  BeecMr. 
 
 VIRTUES— Growth  of. 
 
 It  is  reported  tliat  Uraba  in  Peru  is  of 
 so  rich  a  soil  that  the  seeds  of  cucumbers 
 and  melons  a  \vn  will  bear  ripe  fruits  in 
 twenty-eigl.t  lays  after  ;  so,  many  persons 
 are  much  sooner  ripe  in  many  virtues  than 
 others  are.  Indeed  those  who  have  been 
 remarkable  for  any  virtue  have  in  general 
 b(;en  oli.served  to  give  some  early  speci- 
 mens and  instances  of  it  in  their  youth, 
 and  a  man  that  has  observed  the  first 
 dawning  might  easily  predict  an  illustrious 
 day  to  succeed  it.  Wanleij. 
 
 VIRTUOUS  SOUL— Durability  of  a. 
 
 Sweet  dav  !  so  cool,  so  f;ilin,  so  liright, 
 
 Theln-idal  of  the  earth  and  sky. 
 The  dew  shall  weep  thy  fall  to-night ; 
 
 For  thou  must  die. 
 Sweet  rose  !  whose  hue,  angry  and  brave. 
 
 Bids  the  rash  gazer  wipe  his  eye, 
 Thy  root  is  ever  in  the  grave  ; 
 
 And  thou  must  die. 
 
 Sweet  spring  !  full  of  sweet  days  and  roses 
 
 A  box  where  sweets  compacted  lie— 
 My  music  shows  you  have  your  closes. 
 
 And  all  must  die. 
 Only  a  sweet  and  virtuous  soul. 
 
 Like  seasoned   timlier,  never  gives  : 
 But  though  the  whole  world  turn  to  a  coal, 
 Then  chieily  lives. 
 Jlerbert. 
 
 found  that  .she  had  been  very  unwell  for 
 more  than  a  fortnight,  but  was  recovering. 
 We  were  living  within  five  minutes'  walk 
 of  each  other,  but  I  had  not  heard  of  her 
 illness.  She  told  me  her  case,  and  I  ex- 
 pressed my  sympathy.  I  soon  perceived, 
 however,  that  her  chief  ailment  now  was 
 mental.  "All  the  time  I  was  ill,  my 
 minister  never  came  to  see  me."  I  tried 
 to  soothe  her  mind,  but  she  began  again  ? 
 "I  bad  the  doctor  attending  me  nearly  a 
 fortnight— I  was  very  ill :  and  it  was  un- 
 kind of  Mr.  —  not  to  come  near  me." 
 "  You  had  the  doctor  a  fortnight  ?  I  sup- 
 pose he  was  passing  one  day,  and  happened 
 to  call  in  and  find  you  ill.'  "No  ;  I  sent 
 my  servant  for  him,  of  course."  "  But  you 
 don't  mean  to  say  that  you  sent  for  the 
 doctor  ?"  "  Yes,  I  did  ;  we  always  call  ia 
 medical  men  ;  else  how  should  they  know 
 we  are  ill?"  "Exactly;  when  you  are 
 sick,  and  need  a  doctor,  you  very  reason- 
 ably send  for  one  ;  and  when  you  are  ill, 
 and  wish  to  see  your  minister,  why  don't 
 you  send  for  him  ?  St.  James  says,  '  Is 
 any  sick  among  you  ?  let  him  call  for  the 
 dders  of  the  church.'"  I  rea.soned  with 
 the  lady  at  some  length  in  this  style,  and 
 succeedeil,  I  think,  in  convincing  her  that 
 it  would  have  been  as  reasonable  to  lie  in 
 bed  ill  day  after  day,  expecting  the  doctor 
 to  come  without  being  sent  for,  and  grum- 
 bling at  him  because  he  didn't  come,  as  to 
 be  ill  a  fortnight,  and  complain  that  her 
 Miinister  did  not  visit  her,  when  she  had 
 not  even  let  him  know  that  she  was  ill. 
 
 Dr.  Haven. 
 
 VOLUPTUOUSNESS— Enervates. 
 
 I  had  often  heard  Mentor  say  that  the 
 effeminate  and  voluptuous  are  never  l)rave, 
 and  I  now  found  by  experience  that  it  was 
 true  ;  for  the  Cyprians,  whose  jollity  had 
 lieen  so  extravagant  and  tumultuous,  now- 
 sunk  under  a  sense  of  their  danger,  and 
 vept  like  women.  I  heard  nothing  but 
 'lie  screams  of  terror,  and  the  wailings  of 
 hopeless  distress  ;  some  lamented  the  loss 
 if  pleasures  that  were  never  to  return, 
 and  .some  made  idle  vows  of  .sacrifice  to 
 ^he  gods,  if  they  reachiid  their  port  in 
 safety ;  but  none  had  presence  of  mind 
 c-ither  to  undertake  or  direct  the  naviga- 
 tion of  the  vessel.  Fenelon. 
 
 VOWS. 
 
 The  saints  in  distress,  especially,  used  to 
 make  their  prayers    with  vows.      Hence 
 prayer  in  Greek   is   called  a  service   with 
 I  vows.     Mr.    Philpot,   martyr,   first  coming 
 but  the  ca.se  I    into  Smithfield  to   suffer,  kneeled  down, 
 now  give  IS  only  a  sample  of  many  more  [  and  .said,    "  I  will  pay  my  vows  in  thee,  0 
 tliat  have  come  under  my  eye.     In  making  ;  SmUhfidd."  J.  Trapp. 
 
 a   number  of  pa.storal    calls  one   day,    1 1 
 knocked  at  the  door  of  a  widowed  lady.     1 1 
 
 VISITATION— Pastoral. 
 
 I  am   not  gray-headed  : 
 
676 
 
 WAITING  ON  THE  LORD— WAR. 
 
 W. 
 
 WAITING  ON  THE  LORD, 
 
 The  iiiiagr;  of  the  eagle  is  a  very  fine 
 one,  and  this  is  not  the  only  place  where 
 it  is  employed  (Isa.  xl,  31).  The  prophet 
 alludes  to  the  strength  of  pinion  and  of 
 vision  possessed  by  this  noble  bird,  where- 
 by it  ascends  to  a  lofty  height,  untired 
 and  undazzled,  soaring  even  above  the 
 fogs  and  mists  of  the  lower  regions  of  the 
 air,  mounting  above  the  very  clouds,  un- 
 deterred by  the  licrhtning,  and  floating  in 
 the  pure  azure  above.  Thus  shall  all  who 
 wait  upon  the  Lord  rise  higher  and  higher, 
 upon  the  mighty  pinions  of  strong  devo- 
 tion, and  with  the  unblinking  eye  of  faith, 
 into  the  regions  of  heavenly-mindedness ; 
 and  shall  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to 
 God,  the  Sun  of  our  spiritual  day. 
 
 J.  A.  James. 
 
 WALKING  BEFORE  GOD. 
 
 "  Walk  before  me,"  saith  God,  "  and  be 
 perfect."  Lo,  here  is  ^our  flower,  "  Pure 
 innoeency."  He  that  observeth  this  pre- 
 cept of  God  cannot  displease,  err,  or  oft'end, 
 but  work  pure  innoeency  before  God.  To 
 walk  before  God  is  to  serve  Him  according 
 to  His  Word,  so  purely  and  innocently  as 
 though  God  Himself  were  ever  present 
 before  our  eyes,  Thomas  Becon. 
 
 WALKING  WITH  GOD. 
 
 To  walk  with  God  is  to  be  sincerely  and 
 heartily  careful  to  set  forward  His  cause, 
 to  promote  His  Gospel,  to  defend  His  truth, 
 to  amplify  His  kingdom  to  the  uttermost 
 of  our  powers. 
 
 Walk  on,  and  go  forward.  For  if  ye  be 
 in  the  way  of  life,  not  to  go  forward  is  to 
 go  backward.  A  dog  returning  to  his 
 vomit  is  a  foul  and  an  ugly  thing  to  be- 
 hold.    Take  heed  of  backsliding. 
 
 Walk  not  as  those  do  in  darkness,  but 
 in  light.  "  God  is  light ; "  walk,  there- 
 fore, "  with  God,"  and  then  ye  do  that 
 which  He  requireth  at  your  hands. 
 
 Archbishop  Sandys. 
 
 WANT— Influence  of. 
 Want  is  a  bitter  and  a  hateful  good, 
 Because  its  virtues  are  not  understood ; 
 Yet  many  things,  impossible  to  thought 
 Have    been    by   need    to   full    perfection 
 
 brought. 
 The   daring   of    the    soul    proceeds   from 
 
 thence, 
 Sharpness  of  wit,  and  active  diligence  ; 
 Prudence  at  once,  and  fortitude  it  gives, 
 Aiid,  if  in  patience  taken,  mends  our  lives. 
 J)ri/den. 
 WANTS— Imaginary. 
 
 We  are  ruined,  not  by  what  we  really 
 
 want,  but  by  what  we  think  we  do ;  there- 
 fore never  go  abroad  in  search  of  your 
 wants.  If  they  be  real  wants,  they  will 
 come  home  in  search  of  you ;  for  he  that 
 buys  what  he  does  not  want,  will  soon 
 want  what  he  cannot  buy.  C.  Colton. 
 
 WANTS— Pressure  of. 
 
 To  men 
 Pressed  by  their  wants,  all  change  is  ever 
 welcome,  Jonson 
 
 WAR— Cost  of. 
 
 Men  speak  in  glowing  phrase  of  the 
 triumphs  of  British  arms  in  the  last  great 
 war;  but  never  let  us  forget  the  miseries 
 which  it  entailed.  If  we  look  at  the  ex- 
 penditure, we  And  that  the  war  with 
 France  cost  more  than  a  thousand  millions 
 of  money ;  and  that,  out  of  about  flfty 
 millions  of  annual  taxation,  only  six  mil- 
 lions are  required  for  the  civil  government 
 of  the  country,  including  the  maintenance 
 of  the  dignity  of  the  crown,  the  whole  of 
 the  rest  being  consumed  by  our  war  estab- 
 lishments, and  the  interest  of  the  war 
 debt.  Contrasting  what  war  has  cost 
 during  the  fifty  years  ending  in  1850, 
 with  the  money  expended  in  missionary 
 operations,  we  find  that  the  incomes, 
 during  that  period,  of  the  Bible  Society, 
 the  Society  for  Propagating  the  Gospel 
 in  Foreign  Parts,  the  London,  the  Baptist, 
 the  Wesleyan,  the  Church  of  England,  the 
 Moravian,  the  Home,  the  Colonial,  the 
 Irish  Evangelical,  and  the  City  of  London 
 Missionary  Societies,  amounted  altogether 
 to  fourteen  and  a  half  millions,  for  saving 
 the  lives  and  souls  of  men ;  while,  during 
 the  same  period,  no  less  than  twelve  hun- 
 dred millions  were  spent  in  destroying  life 
 and  property  by  fire  and  sword  in  war, 
 
 N.  Hall. 
 
 WAR— Desolations  of. 
 
 "War  is  that  miserable  desolation  tliat 
 finds  a  land  before  it  like  Eden,  and  leaves 
 it  behind  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  a 
 desolate  and  forsaken  wilderness.  Let  it 
 be  sowed  with  the  seed  of  man  and  beast, 
 as  a  field  with  wheat,  war  will  eat  it  uji. 
 
 T.  Adams. 
 
 WAR— No  Good  in. 
 
 Dr.  Johnson  laughed  at  Lord  Kames's 
 opinion  that  war  was  a  good  thing  occa- 
 sionally, as  so  ranch  valour  and  virtue 
 were  exhibited  in  it.  "  A  fire,"  said  the 
 Doctor,  "  might  as  well  be  considered  a 
 good  thing.  There  are  the  bravery  and 
 address  of  the  firemen  in  extinguishing 
 it ;  there  is  much  humanity  exerted  in 
 saving  the  lives  and  properties  of  the  poor 
 sufterers ;  yet,  after  all  this,  who  can  say 
 that  a  fire  is  a  good  thing  ?"  BosweU,. 
 
"WAR-MONEy— WATCHTTILNESS. 
 
 877 
 
 "WAR-MONEY— How  it  might  be  Spent. 
 
 The  late  Russian  war  cost  England  alone, 
 according  to  careful  calculations,  the  sum 
 of  one  hundred  millions  sterling.  What 
 might,  or  rather,  what  might  not  have 
 Tieen  done  for  our  noble  old  Christian 
 island,  by  a  proper  application  of  such  an 
 enormous  amount  ?  We  copy  here  one 
 estimate,  showing  how  the  hundred  mil- 
 lions might  have  been  expended.  We 
 might  '"'^ve  provided : 
 
 £  £ 
 
 1000  British  Schoolrooms  .  at  1,000  each  1,000,000 
 1000  National  ditto  .  .  .  1,000  „  1,000,000 
 1000  Infant  ditto  ....  1,000  „  1,000,000 
 A  Natiomil  Gallery  for  the)  2  000  000 
 
 line  Arts        .         .    .    .}  '       ' 
 
 100  Schools  of  Desigrn  .  .  10,000  „  1,000,000 
 20  Kpfurmntorv  Sdinols  .  50.000  „  1,000,000 
 100  Homes  for  Governesses  10,000  „  1,000,000 
 100  Playgrounds  and  Gym-  j    ,  q  ^^qq  1,000,000 
 
 nasiums }     ^ 
 
 200  Meitlianics'  Institutes  .  5,000  „  1,000.000 
 100  Public  Libraries  .  .  .  10,000  „  1,000,000 
 1(;0  Hatlis  and  Wash-houses  10,000  „  1,000,000 
 1000  Temperance  HaUs  .  .  1,000  „  1,0(J0,000 
 20  Asvlums  for  the  Blind  .  50,000  „  1,000,000 
 20  Ditto  for  the  Deaf  and  I    ^q^qq  1,000,000 
 
 Dumb ) 
 
 20  P"''li^Pnrks,5000a*res-)5ooooo        10.00,0000 
 at  £100  per  acre  .    .  >       '  »      >     > 
 
 Drainage  and  Sanitary  Im--)  5  000  000 
 
 provements .    .    .    .  > 
 Medical  attendance    of   the)  3  000  000 
 
 Poor S  '      ' 
 
 20  Penitentiaries    forFe-)    gpooQ  1,000,000 
 
 males ) 
 
 100  Reluges  for  Prisoners  .  10,000  „  1,000,000 
 lOOO  Soup  Kitchens  .  .  .  1,000  „  1,000,000 
 100  Sets  of  Almshouses .  .  10,0(J0  „  1,000,000 
 10  Public  Hospitals .  .  .  200,000  „  2,000,000 
 10  Hospitals  for  Consump-]^QQpyQ  1,000,000 
 
 tion }       ' 
 
 20  Fever  Hospitals  .  .  .  50,000  „  1,000,000 
 20  Ophthalmic  Hospitals  .  50,000  „  1,000,000 
 100  Floating  Hospitals  for)    jq.qq  1,000,000 
 
 Sailors } 
 
 100  Hospitals  for  Drunkards      10,000    „    1,000,000 
 100  Hospitals  for  Lying-m.      10,000    „    1,000,000 
 10  Sea-bathing  Inlirmarics    100,000    „    1,000,000 
 A  Fleet  of  2000  Fishing-boats  500    „    1,000,000 
 
 2000  Sets  of  Nets    ....  500    „    1,000,000 
 
 201.0  Life-boats 500    „    1,000,000 
 
 20  Orphan  Asylums      .    .      50,000    „    1,000,000 
 
 All  this  would  have  cost  just  half  the  sum    £50,000,000 
 Let   US  therefore    proceed,    we    might 
 further  have  provided — 
 
 2000  Churches  and  Cliapels  at  an  average         £ 
 
 cost  of  £5000  each 10,000,000 
 
 2000  Ministers'  Incomes  of  £500  a  year 
 
 for  10  years 10,000,000 
 
 4000  Schoolmasters'  Salaries  of   £250  a 
 
 year  for  10  years 10,000,000 
 
 City  and  Home  Missionary  objects  .  .  .  5,000,000 
 Foreign   Missions,  including  Continental 
 
 and  Colonial 5,000,000 
 
 Bible  Society 1,000,000 
 
 Eeligious  Tract  Society 1,000,000 
 
 Rugged  School  Union 1,000,000 
 
 Leaving  still  seven  millions  sterling 
 available  for  other  objects  of  usefulness  or 
 benevolence.  The  items  of  course  may  be 
 varied  according  to  the  taste  and  sympa- 
 thies of  the  reader.  Anon. 
 
 WARNING—Taking. 
 
 Waldus,  a  rich  merchant  in  Lyons,  seeing 
 
 one  drop  down  dead  in  the  streets,  went 
 home,  and  repented,  changed  his  life,  and 
 became  a  preacher,  and  was  the  father  and 
 the  founder  of  tlie  people  called  Waldenses. 
 ris  good  to  take  warning  by  others'  harms, 
 and,  by  the  sight  of  their  death,  to  look 
 after  our  own  life.  Venning. 
 
 WARNING  VOICE. 
 
 There  is  a  story  which  tells  of  a  bell 
 which  was  suspended  on  a  rock  of  the 
 ocean  dangerous  to  navigation.  The  waves 
 of  the  ocean  beating  upon  it  caused  it  to 
 give  a  noise  of  warning  to  keep  off  the 
 approaching  mariner.  It  is  said  that  at 
 one  time  some  pirates  destroyed  the  bell 
 to  prevent  the  warning.  Not  long  after 
 tliese  very  pirates  struck  upon  this  rock, 
 and  were  lost.  How  many  there  are  who 
 take  pains  to  hush  or  remove  the  voice  of 
 warning  coming  forth  from  the  point  of 
 danger,  who,  as  soon  as  the  warning  ceases, 
 founder  upon  the  rock  of  temptation,  and 
 are  lost  for  ever  !  I>r.  lie  Cosh. 
 
 WARNINGS  OF  GOD. 
 
 As  the  mother  bird  shrieks  when  the 
 hawk  is  in  the  sky,  that  her  young  ones 
 may  hide  themselves  under  her  wings,  so 
 God,  the  Father  of  men,  utters  His  voice 
 of  warning  against  sinners,  that  they  maj' 
 rush  to  His  mercy's  protection,  before  the 
 devouring  lion  of  hell  overtake  them  in 
 destruction.  John  Bate. 
 
 WATCHFULNESS— Christian. 
 
 As  the  sentinel  on  duty  watches  for 
 the  coming  foe  ;  as  the  sailor  on  deck 
 watches  for  the  coming  diinger,  from 
 storm,  breakers,  &c.  ;  as  the  watchman 
 watches  for  the  thief  who  seeks  to  plun- 
 der ;  as  Satan  watches  for  opportunities 
 to  sow  tares  and  ruin  souls ;  as  the  world- 
 ling watches  for  "  chances "  to  make  a 
 bargain  ;  as  the  pleasure-taker  watches  for 
 seasons,  times,  and  companies  for  personal 
 enjoyment  ;  as  the  lover  of  knowledge 
 watches  all  openings  for  the  increasing  of 
 his  knowledge ;  so  should  the  Christian 
 watch  for  the  approach  of  his  enemies, 
 and  be  prepared  fur  conflict  and  victory; 
 he  should  watch  for  the  dangers  which 
 beset  his  passage  to  the  haven  of  rest,  and 
 by  the  wisdom  which  cometh  from  above 
 avoid  them  ;  he  should  watch  for  all  occa- 
 sions of  usefulness  in  all  ways  in  his  power  ; 
 for  all  opportunities  of  laying  up  treasure 
 in  heaven  ;  for  all  means  of  promoting 
 his  purity  and  happiness;  for  all  sources 
 whence  may  flow  an  increase  in  the  know- 
 ledge of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  "  What 
 I  say  unto  one,  I  say  unto  all,  Watch." 
 "  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not  into 
 temptation."  Ibid. 
 
878 
 
 WATCHFULNESS-WEALTH. 
 
 WATCHFULNESS— Christian. 
 
 None  are  so  likely  to  maintain  watchful 
 guard  over  their  hearts  and  lives  as  those 
 ■who  know  the  comfort  of  living  in  near 
 communion  with  God.  They  feel  their 
 privilege,  and  will  fear  losing  it.  They 
 will  dread  falling  from  their  high  estate, 
 and  marring  their  own  comforts  by  liring- 
 iiig  clouds  Ijetween  themselves  and  Christ. 
 He  that  goes  on  a  journey  with  a  little 
 money  about  him  takes  little  thought  of 
 danger,  and  cares  little  how  late  he  travels. 
 He,  on  the  contrary,  that  carries  gold  and 
 jewels,  will  be  a  cautious  traveller  ;  he  will 
 look  well  to  his  roads,  his  horses,  and  his 
 company,  and  run  no  risks.  The  fixed  stars 
 are  those  that  tremble  most.  The  man  that 
 most  fully  enjoys  the  light  of  God's  counte- 
 nance will  be  a  man  tremblingly  afraid  of 
 losing  its  blessed  consolations,  and  jealously 
 fearful  of  doing  anything  to  grieve  the  Holy 
 Ghost.  Ryle. 
 
 WATCHING  UNTO  PRAYER. 
 
 A  mother  sends  a  letter  to  her  mnch- 
 loved  son  in  India  ;  and  how  she  watches 
 for  the  return  of  an  answer  !  A  merchant 
 invests  an  amount  of  money  in  some  s{)eeu- 
 lation,  ami  how  he  watches  for  the  success 
 of  the  scheme,  and  the  repayment  of  his 
 money  with  satisfactory  interest.  A  farmer 
 for  the  first  time  sows  his  land  with  grain, 
 and  how  he  watches  for  the  blade,  the  ear, 
 the  full  corn  in  the  ear,  and  the  ripened 
 corn  to  be  gathered  into  the  barn  ;  so 
 ,  should  Christians,  after  they  have  sent  up 
 their  prayers  to  heaven,  wait  and  watch 
 for  the  return  of  answers.  John  Bate. 
 
 WAY  TO  GOD. 
 
 The  way  is  Christ.  He  that  understands 
 how  to  travel  upon  this  road  with  the 
 waggon  of  his  necessities,  will  never  return 
 empty  and  without  back-freight. 
 
 Dr.  Krummacher. 
 
 WAYS  OF  GOD— Mysterious. 
 
 God  hath  ways  and  judgments  which 
 man  cannot  reach  unto.  Some  of  His  ways 
 are  acted,  as  we  say,  above  board,  they  are 
 done  in  a  clear  li;^ht — he  that  runs  may  see 
 and  read  them,  and  God  in  them  ;  he  that 
 runs  may  read  love  written  upon  some  of 
 them  in  letters  of  gold,  or  with  beams  of 
 light.  And  he  that  runs  may  read  wrath 
 written  upon  others  of  them  in  letters  of 
 blood,  or  with  streams  of  darkness,  and  the 
 very  shadows  of  death  ;  but  some  ways  of 
 God  are  so  curtained  about  and  veiled,  so 
 hidden  and  obscured,  that  we  cannot  per- 
 ceive them.  Though  all  the  ways  of  God 
 are  ways  of  light,  yet  many  of  them  are  in 
 the  dark  to  man.  ' '  0  how  unsearchable 
 are  His  judgments,  and  His  ways  past 
 finding  out."  Job  Caryl. 
 
 WEALTH— Advantages  of. 
 
 Wealth  is  an  application  of  mind  to 
 nature  ;  and  the  art  of  getting  rich  con- 
 sists not  in  industry,  much  less  in  saving, 
 but  in  a  better  order,  in  timeliness,  in 
 being  at  the  right  spot.  One  man  has 
 stronger  arms  or  longer  legs  ;  another  sees 
 by  the  course  of  streams  the  growth  of 
 markets,  where  land  will  be  wanted,  makes 
 a  clearing  to  the  river,  goes  to  sleep,  and 
 wakes  up  rich.  Steam  is  no  stronger  now 
 tlian  it  was  a  hundi-ed  years  ago  ;  but  it  is 
 put  to  better  use.  A  clever  fellow  was 
 acquainted  with  the  expansive  force  of 
 steam  ;  he  also  saw  the  wealth  of  wheat 
 and  grass  rotting  in  Michigan.  Then  he 
 cunningly  screws  on  the  steam-pipe  to  the 
 wheat  crop.  Puff  now,  0  steam  !  The 
 steam  puffs  and  expands  as  liefore,  but  this 
 time  it  is  dragging  all  Michigan  at  its 
 back  to  hungry  New  York  and  hungry 
 England.  Coal  lay  in  ledges  under  the 
 ground  since  the  Flood,  until  a  labourer 
 with  pick  and  windlass  brings  it  to  the 
 surface.  We  may  well  call  it  black  dia- 
 monds. Every  basket  is  power  and  civi- 
 lization. For  coal  is  a  portable  climate. 
 It  carries  the  heat  of  the  tropics  to  La- 
 brador and  the  polar  circle  ;  and  it  is  the 
 means  of  transporting  itself  whithersoever 
 it  is  wanted.  Watt  and  Stephenson  whis- 
 pered in  the  ear  of  mankind  their  secret, 
 that  a  half  ounce  of  coal  ivill  draiv  hco 
 tons  a  mile,  and  coal  carries  coal,  by  rail 
 and  by  boat,  to  make  Canada  as  warm  as 
 Calcutta,  and  with  its  comforts  bring  its 
 industrial  power.  Emerson. 
 
 WEALTH— Care  of. 
 
 The  Duke  of  Brunswick,  residing  in 
 Paris,  has  an  extraordinary  collection  of 
 diamonds,  valued  at  £450,000.  A  cata- 
 logue of  his  gems,  which  he  has  published, 
 contains  26S  quarto  pages,  and  lie  gives  iu 
 it  the  history  of  each  individual  stone.  A 
 black  diamond,  obtained  from  the  treasury 
 of  a  Nabob,  served  for  centuries  in  India 
 as  the  eye  of  an  idol.  A  wondrously  fin© 
 pink  brilliant  once  belonged  to  the  jewels 
 of  the  Emperor  Baber  at  Agra,  and  is  said 
 to  be  invaluable.  A  solitaire  of  twelve 
 studs  was  once  worn  by  the  Emperor 
 Pedro  of  Brazil  as  waistcoat  buttons.  A 
 diamond  ring  of  the  purest  water  belonged 
 to  Marie  Stuart,  as  her  arms  and  "M.S." 
 engraved  on  it  prove.  A  pair  of  diamond 
 earrings  were  once  the  property  of  the 
 unfortunate  Marie  Antoinette.  In  tliis 
 way  one  curiosity  follows  the  other.  The 
 duke  has  any  quantity  of  diamonds  at 
 £3,000.  £4,000,  and  £6,000,  two  at  £9,000 
 three  at  £10,500,  and  another  at  £12,000. 
 But  in  spite  of  this  he  is  at  present  bar- 
 gaining for  two  gems,  one  estimated  at 
 £35,500,    the  other,   £97,500.     The   mil- 
 
WEALTH 
 
 879 
 
 lionare,  however,   according  to  tlie   Court 
 Journal,  is  the  slave  of  his  treasure. 
 
 The  Duke  of  Brunswick  dares  not  leave 
 Paris  at  any  period  of  the  year ;  his 
 diamonds  keep  him  chained  there.  He 
 dares  not  sleep  away  (some  folks  reckon 
 this  liberty  of  pillow  one  of  the  great 
 franchises  of  Paris)  a  single  night.  Then 
 he  lives  in  a  house  constructed  not  so  much 
 for  comfort  as  security.  It  is  burglar- 
 proof  ;  surrounded  on  every  side  by  a  high 
 wall :  the  wall  itself  is  surmounted  by  a 
 lofty  iron  railing  defended  by  innumerable 
 sharp  spear-heads  ;  which  are  so  contrived 
 that  if  any  person  touches  one  of  them,  a 
 chime  of  bells  begins  instantly  to  ring  an 
 alarm  ;  this  iron  railing  cost  him  £2821. 
 He  keeps  his  diamonds  in  a  thick  wall  ; 
 his  bed  is  placed  against  it,  that  no  burglar 
 may  break  into  it  without  killing,  or  at 
 least  waking  him,  and  that  he  may  amuse 
 himself  without  leaving  his  bed.  The  safe 
 is  lined  with  granite  and  with  iron  ;  if  it 
 is  opened  by  violence,  a  discharge  of  fire- 
 arms, which  will  inevitably  kill  the  burglar, 
 takes  place,  and  at  the  same  time  a  chime 
 of  bells  in  every  room  in  the  house  is  set 
 ringing.  He  has  but  one  window  in  his 
 bed-room  ;  the  sash  of  the  stoutest  iron,  and 
 cannot  be  entered  unless  one  be  master  of 
 the  secret  combination  of  the  lock.  A  case 
 of  a  dozen  six-barrelled  revolvers,  loaded  | 
 anil  capped,  lies  upon  a  table  within  reach  i 
 of  his  bed.  Jeffers. 
 
 WEALTH— not  Happiness. 
 
 The  name  of  Crcesus,  the  fifth  and  last 
 King  of  Lydia,  who  reigned  557  years 
 before  Christ,  is  become  a  proverb  to  de- 
 scribe the  possession  of  immense  riches. 
 When  Solon,  the  legislator  of  Athens,  and 
 one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  the  ancient 
 sages  of  Greece,  came  to  Sardis,  where 
 Crcesus  hehl  his  court,  he  was  received  in  a 
 manner  suitable  to  the  reputation  of  so 
 great  a  man.  The  king,  attended  by  his 
 courtiers,  appeared  in  all  his  regal  pomp 
 and  splendour,  dressed  in  the  mo-st  mag- 
 nificent apparel.  Solon,  however,  did  not 
 discover  surprise  or  admii-ation.  This  cold- 
 ness and  indifference  astonished  and  dis- 
 pleased the  king;  who  next  ordered  that 
 all  his  treasures,  'his  magnificent  apart- 
 ments and  costly  furniture,  his  diamonds, 
 statixps,  and  paintings,  should  be  shown  to 
 the  philosopher.  When  Solon  had  seen  all, 
 he  was  brought  back  to  the  king ;  who 
 asked  whether  he  had  ever  beheld  a  hap- 
 pier man  than  he.     "  Yes,"  replied  Solon,  i 
 
 ' '  one  Tellus,  a  plain  but  worthy  citizen  of  I  wards  with  honour  and  respect. 
 Athens,  who  lived  all  his  days  above  indi-  j  _  Thus  had  Solon  the  glory  of  saving  the 
 gence,  saw  his  country  in  a  flourishing  con-  life  of  one  king,  and  giving  a  wholesome 
 dition,  had  children  who  were  universally  '  lesson  of  instruction  to  another.  Anon. 
 esteemed  ;  and,  having  had  the  satisfaction 
 of  seeing  those  chihlreu's  children,  died 
 gloriously  fighting  for  his  country." 
 
 Such  an  answer,  in  which  gold  and  silver 
 were  accounted  as  nothing,  seemed  to 
 Croesus  to  indicate  a  strange  ignorance 
 and  stupidity.  However,  as  he  flattered 
 himself  with  being  ranked  in  the  second 
 degree  of  happiness,  he  asked  him  whether, 
 after  Tellu.s,  he  knew  another  happier  man  ? 
 Solon  answered,  "  Cleobis  and  Biton,  of 
 Argos,  two  brothers,  perfect  patterns  of 
 fraternal  affection,  and  of  the  respect  due 
 from  children  to  their  parents.  Upon  a 
 solemn  festival  their  mother,  a  priestess  of 
 Juno,  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  temple  ;  and 
 the  oxen  not  being  ready  for  her  chariot, 
 they  put  themselves  in  the  harness,  and 
 drew  it  thither  amidst  the  blessings  of  the 
 people.  Eveiy  mother  present  congratu- 
 lated the  priestess  on  t\v:  piety  of  her  sons. 
 Slie,  in  the  transport  of  her  joy  and  thank- 
 fulness, earnestly  entreated  the  goddess  to 
 reward  her  children  vs^ith  the  best  thing 
 that  heaven  could  give  to  man.  Her  prayers 
 were  heard ;  when  the  sacrifice  was  over, 
 they  fell  asleep  in  the  temple,  and  there 
 dierl  in  a  soft  and  peaceful  slumber." 
 
 "What,  then,"  exclaimed  Croesus,  "you 
 do  not  reckon  me  in  the  number  of  the 
 happy  ?"  "  King  of  Lydia,"  replied  Solon, 
 "true  philosophy,  considering  what  an  in- 
 finite number  of  vicissitudes  and  accidents 
 the  life  of  man  is  liable  to,  does  not  allow 
 us  to  glory  in  any  prosperity  we  enjoy  our- 
 selves, or  to  admire  happiness  in  others, 
 which,  perhaps,  may  prove  only  transient 
 or  superficial.  No  man  can  be  esteemed 
 happy  but  he  whom  Heaven  blesses  with 
 success  to  the  last.  For  those  who  are 
 perpetually  exposeil  to  dangers,  we  account 
 their  haT)piness  as  uncertain  as  the  crown 
 to  a  champion  before  the  combat  is  deter- 
 mined." 
 
 It  was  not  long  before  Croesus  expe- 
 rienced the  trath  of  what  Solon  had  told 
 him.  Being  defeated  by  Cyrus,  King  of 
 Persia,  and  his  capital  taken,  he  was  him- 
 self taken  prisoner ;  and,  by  order  of  the 
 conqueror,  laid  bound  upon  a  pile  to  be 
 burnt  alive.  The  unfortunate  prince  now 
 recollected  the  admonition  of  the  Athenian 
 sage,  and  cried  aloud,  "0  Solon,  Solon, 
 Solon  !" 
 
 Cyrus,  who  with  the  chief  officers  of  his 
 court  was  present,  was  curious  to  know 
 why  Croesus  pronounced  that  name  with 
 so  much  vehemence.  Being  told  the  reason 
 and  reflecting  upon  the  uncertainty  of  all 
 sublunary  things,  he  was  touched  wiih 
 commiseration,  ordered  the  monarch  to  be 
 taken  from  the  pile,  and  treated  him  after- 
 
 WEALTH -Model. 
 
 The  wealth  of  the  Cretans  consists  iu 
 
880 
 
 WEALTH -WEDDING  GARMENT. 
 
 health,  vigour,  and  courage,  domestic  quiet 
 concord,  public  libert}%  plenty  of  all  that 
 is  necessary,  and  contempt  of  all  that  is 
 superfluous  ;  a  habit  of  industry,  an  abhor- 
 rence of  idleness,  an  emulation  in  virtue, 
 submission  to  the  laws,  and  a  reverence  of 
 the  gods.  Fenclon. 
 
 WEALTH— Slave  of. 
 
 There  is  no  such  galley-slave  in  the 
 world  as  a  man  that  is  given  and  addicted 
 to  his  wealth  and  riches  in  this  present 
 life ;  for  it  pierceth  men  through  with 
 many  sorrows,  as  the  apostle  saith.  Behold, 
 the  sting  of  death  is  the  sting  that 
 pierceth  them  :  the  sting  of  death  is  sin  ; 
 and  this  sting,  it  pierceth  through  the 
 heart,  and  stabs  the  soul  of  every  covetous 
 man  in  the  world,  that  they  cannot  claim 
 any  part  of  that  victory  which  Ood  com- 
 municates to  His  children  ;  but  they  are 
 foiled  base  creatures,  that  are  made  for 
 slaughter  and  destruction.  Day. 
 
 WEALTH— Uncertainty  of. 
 
 Wealth  is  like  a  bird  ;  it  hops  all  day 
 from  man  to  man,  as  that  doth  from  tree 
 to  tree ;  and  none  can  say  where  it  will 
 roost  at  night.  It  is  like  a  vagrant  fellow, 
 which,  because  he  is  big-boned  and  able 
 to  work,  a  man  takes  in  a-doors  and 
 cherisheth,  and  perhaps  for  a  while  he 
 takes  pains  ;  but  when  he  spies  oppor- 
 tunity, the  fugitive  servant  is  gone,  and 
 takes  away  more  with  him  than  all  his 
 service  came  to.  The  world  may  seem  to 
 stand  thee  in  some  stead  for  a  season,  it  at  I 
 last  irrevocably  runs  away,  and  carries  with  i 
 it  thy  joys ;  thy  goods,  as  Rachel  stole 
 Laban's  idols  ;  thy  peace  and  content  of 
 heart  goes  with  it,  and  thou  art  left  des- 
 perate. T.  Adams. 
 
 WEALTH    AND    EXTRAVAGANCE— An- 
 cient. 
 
 Croesus  possessed  in  landed  property  a 
 fortune  equal  to  £1,700,000,  besides  a 
 large  amount  of  money,  slaves,  and  other 
 valuables,  which  amounted  to  an  equal 
 sum.  He  used  to  say  that  a  citizen  who 
 had  not  a  sufficient  sum  to  support  an 
 army,  or  a  legion,  did  not  deserve  the  title 
 of  a  rich  man.  The  philosopher  Seneca 
 had  a  fortune  of  £3,500,000  Tiberius,  at 
 his  death,  left  £23,624,000,  which  Caligula 
 spent  in  less  than  twelve  months.  Ves- 
 pasian, on  ascending  the  throne,  estimated 
 all  the  expenses  of  the  state  at  £35,000,000. 
 Tlie  debts  of  Milo  amounted  to  £600,000. 
 Cresar,  before  he  entered  upon  any  office, 
 owed  £2,995,000.  He  had  purchased  the 
 friendship  of  Curion  for  £500,  and  that  of 
 Lucius  Panlus,  for  £300,000.  At  the  time 
 of  the  assassination  of  Julius  Caesar,  Antony 
 was  in  debt  to  the  amount  of  £3,000,000  ; 
 he  owed  this  sum  on  the  ides  of  March, 
 
 and  it  was  paid  by  the  kalends  of  April ;  ho 
 squandered  £147,000,000,  Appius  squan- 
 dered in  debauchery  £500,000,  and  finding, 
 on  examination  of  the  state  of  his  affairs, 
 that  he  had  only  £80,000,  poisoned  him- 
 self, because  he  thought  that  sum  insuffi- 
 cient for  his  maintenance.  Julius  Csesar 
 gave  to  SutuUa,  the  mother  of  Brutus,  a 
 pearl  of  the  value  of  £10,000.  Cleopatra, 
 at  an  entertainment  she  gave  to  Antony, 
 dissolved  in  vinegar  a  pearl  worth  £80,000, 
 and  he  swallowed  it.  Clodius,  the  son  of 
 Esopus  the  comedian,  swallowed  one  worth 
 £8,000.  One  single  dish  cost  Esopus 
 £80,000.  Caligula  spent  for  one  supjier 
 £80,000,  and  Heliogabulus  £20,000.  The 
 usual  cost  for  a  repast  for  Lucullus  was 
 £20, 000  ;  the  fish  from  his  fish-ponds  were 
 sold  for  £35,000.  Jeffers. 
 
 WEDDING— Happy. 
 
 Happy  is  that  wedding  where  Christ  is 
 a  guest.  There  is  no  holy  marriage 
 whereat  He  is  not  (however  invisible,  yet) 
 truly  present  by  His  Spirit,  by  His  gra- 
 cious benediction.  He  makes  marriages 
 in  heaven,  and  blesses  them  from  heaven. 
 Bp.  Hall. 
 
 WEDDING  GARMENT. 
 
 At  the  royal  marriage  of  Sultan  Mah- 
 mond,  a  few  years  ago,  every  guest  invited 
 to  the  wedding  had  made  expressly  for  him, 
 at  the  expense  of  the  sultan,  a  wedding 
 garment.  No  one,  however  dignified  his 
 station,  was  permitted  to  enter  into  the  pre- 
 sence chamber  of  that  sovereign  without  a 
 change  of  raiment.  This  was  formerly  the 
 universal  custom  in  the  East.  But  inas- 
 much as  these  garments  were  very  costly, 
 and  some  of  the  guests  invited  might  plead 
 poverty,  and  thus  appear  unclad  in  the 
 guest-chamber  of  the  king,  the  cost  was 
 defrayed  at  the  Sultan  Mahmond's  expense. 
 To  each  guest  was  presented  a  suit  of  wed- 
 ding garments.  Had  any,  therefore,  ap- 
 peared before  this  absolute  sovereign  with- 
 out the  wedding  garment,  the  sultan  would 
 have  deemed  his  dignity  insulted,  aud  his 
 magnificent  gifts  despised.  The  question, 
 then,  "  Friend,  how  camest  thou  in  hitiier, 
 not  having  on  a  wedding  garment?" 
 (Matt.  xxii.  12)  explains  the  speechless 
 condition  of  the  man.  The  wedding  I'obe 
 was  ready,  not  at  th«  expense  of  the  in- 
 vited one,  but  at  the  cost  of  the  king.  He 
 had  simply  to  obey  the  requirements  of 
 Eastern  state — put  on  the  garment,  ap- 
 pear before  the  king,  and  do  homage  to 
 him  for  his  rich  habit.  His  refusal  to 
 comply  with  this  reasonable  custom,  and 
 presuming,  notwithstanding,  to  thrust  him- 
 self into  the  presence  of  royalty,  was  an 
 avowal  that  he  denied  his  authority  to 
 rule   over  him,    and  despised  his   power. 
 
■WEDDING-GARMENT— WICKED. 
 
 881 
 
 Hence  he  was  bound  hand  and  foot,  and 
 cast  out.  Anon. 
 
 WEDDING  GARMENT— Explained. 
 
 The  garment  must,  surely,  from  the  very 
 nature  of  the  image,  have  been  intended  to 
 signify  something  public  and  visible,  in 
 which  each  wearer  harmonises  with  all, 
 and  all  with  the  spirit  of  the  peculiar  scene 
 into  which  they  are  introduced,  and  to 
 which  the  dress  is  appropriate.  I  would 
 say,  then,  that  by  this  remarkable  symbol 
 our  Lord  did  not  intend,  merely  the  inward 
 principle  of  faith  exclusively  considered, 
 nor  yet  merely  the  mysterious  imputation 
 of  righteousness  through  identification 
 with  Christ  (though  these  are,  no  doubt, 
 necessary  conditions  and  first  steps  to  its 
 possession)  ;  for  apparel  is,  of  all  things, 
 the  most  manifest  and  visible,  and  the  wed- 
 ding apparel  is  specially  the  apparel  of  joy. 
 This  festal  garment  of  heaven,  then,  which 
 each  man  must  bring  with  him  into  the 
 high  presence  of  God,  seems  to  be  no  other 
 than  that  celestial  temper  which  manifests 
 itself  by  the  infallible  indications  of  a  holy 
 joj', — that  spiritual  sympathy  with  the 
 things  of  the  spiritual  world,  which  ex- 
 hibits itself  in  cordial,  irrepressible  demon- 
 slration  of  the  blessedness  within;  holy 
 happiness,  public  and  expressed;  the  "joy 
 in  the  Holy  Ghost" — no  longer  a  secret, 
 timid,  half-uttered  delight,  but  sparkling 
 in  the  eye,  and  fearless  in  the  voice;  the 
 "  lile  "  no  longer  "  hid  with  Christ  in  God," 
 but  "  apparent  with  Him  in  glory."  I  re- 
 peat it,  inward  spiritual  happiness,  de- 
 veloped by  the  presence  of  God,  and  the 
 consciousness  of  heaven,  into  visible  mani- 
 festation,— this  is  the  "  wedding  garment " 
 which  Christ  bebolds  and  approves  in  the 
 saved.  Archer  Butler. 
 
 WELL-DOING. 
 
 The  Hebrews  have  a  saying,  that  God  is 
 more  delighted  in  adverbs  than  in  nouns  : 
 'tis  not  so  much  the  matter  that's  done,  but 
 the  matter  how  'tis  done,  that  God  minds. 
 l\ot  how  much,  but  how  well  !  'Tis  the  well- 
 doing that  meets  with  a  well-done.  Let 
 US  therefore  serve  God  not  nominally  or 
 verbally,  but  adverbially.  Venning. 
 
 WEEPING— Sympathetic. 
 
 Hide  not  thy  tears  ;  weep  boldly — and  be 
 proud 
 
 To  give  the  flowing  virtue  manly  way : 
 
 'Tis   nature's  mark   to   know   an   honest 
 heart  by. 
 
 Shame  on  those  breasts  of  stone  that  can- 
 not melt 
 
 In  soft  adoption  of  another's  sorrow. 
 
 Aaron  Sill. 
 
 Ko  radiant  pearl,  which  crested  fortune 
 
 wears,  [eyes, 
 
 No  gem,  that  twinkling  hangs  from  beauty's 
 
 Not  the  bright  stars,  which  night's  blue 
 
 arch  adorn. 
 Not  rising  sun,  that  gilds  the  vernal  morn — 
 Shine  with  such  lustre  as  the  tear  that 
 
 flows 
 Down  virtue's   manly   cheek,  for  others* 
 
 woes.  Darwin. 
 
 WICKED— Death  of  the. 
 
 At  that  dread  moment,  how  the  frantic 
 soul 
 
 Eaves  round  the  walls  of  her  clay  tenement ! 
 
 lUms  to  each  avenue,  and  shrieks  for  help; 
 
 But  shrieks  in  vain  ! 
 
 A  little  longer  !  ah  !  a  little  longer. 
 
 Might  she  but  stay  to  wash  away  her 
 crimes, 
 
 And  fit  her  for  her  passage !    Moving  sight ! 
 
 Her  very  eyes  weep  blood,  and  every  sigh 
 
 She  heaves  is  big  with  horror !  But  the 
 foe, 
 
 Like  a  stanch  murderer,  steady  to  his  pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Pursues  her  close  through  every  lane  of 
 life. 
 
 Nor  misses  once  the  track,  but  presses  on. 
 
 Till,  forced  at  last  to  the  tremendous  verge, 
 
 At  once  she  sinks!  Blair. 
 
 WICKED— End  of  the. 
 
 Their  frail  vessels,  though  built  of  the 
 best  materials,  yet  corrupted  by  the  worm 
 of  sin,  being  conveyed  by  the  ebb  of  time 
 down  the  smooth  river  of  life,  are  now- 
 hurried  beyond  the  bar  of  death  into  the 
 fiery  and  unfathomable  sea  of  Divine  wrath. 
 In  this  most  tempestuous  ocean,  tossed  by 
 the  furious  winds  of  Almighty  indignation 
 upon  the  raging  billows  of  insupportable 
 torment,  they  sutter  a  speedy  and  an 
 eternal  shipwreck.  Dashed  upon  the  rocks 
 of  ruin,  or  swallowed  up  in  the  gulf  of 
 despair,  they  are  entirely  lost,  and  not  one 
 broken  piece  of  holiness  or  happiness  re- 
 mains, nor  so  much  as  a  single  plank  of 
 hope,  upon  which  they  may  expect,  though 
 after  millions  of  ages,  to  escape  to  some 
 land  of  rest.     But — 
 
 "  The  hopeless  soul. 
 Bound  to  the  bottom  of  the  flaming  pool. 
 Though  loath,  and  ever  loud  blaspheming, 
 
 owns 
 'Tis  justly  doom'd  to  pour  eternal  groans; 
 To  talk  to  fiery  tempests,  and  implore 
 The  raging  flame  to  give  its  fury  o'er ; 
 To   writhe,  to   toss,   to  pant  beneath  its 
 
 load. 
 And  bear  the  weight  of  an  offended  God." 
 
 And  now  they  have  no  sleepy  opiates  to 
 make  them  forget  for  one  moment  their 
 misery ;  no  amusement  to  divert  their 
 attention  from  their  intolerable  pain ;  and 
 no  consolation  left  to  lighten,  in  any  de- 
 gree, the  dreadful  weight  of  their  suii'iT- 
 iuars.  J-  Benson. 
 
 ^  56 
 
8S2 
 
 WICKED. 
 
 "WICKED— Fears  and  hopes  of  the. 
 
 He  has  his  fears  ;  they  are  realised  : — he 
 has  his  hopes ;  they  are  frustrated  and 
 lost.  The  fears  are  well  founded;  the 
 hopes  delusive  and  vain.  They  are  hased 
 and  built  on  false  and  deceitful  views  of 
 himself  and  God.  They  have  no  founda- 
 tion in  truth.  They  are  like  the  house 
 built  on  the  sand,  which  may  stand  in  the 
 summer's  sunshine  and  calm,  but  gives 
 way  with  tremendous  and  utter  downfall, 
 before  the  storm  and  the  flood  of  winter. 
 "  His  expectation  shall  perish."  He 
 flattered  himself  with  its  stability ;  but 
 it  was  while  it  was  untried  : — in  the  end  j 
 he  is  buried  in  its  ruins.  "His  hope  is 
 as  the  giving  up  of  the  ghost."  The 
 vision  that  has  deceived  him, — the  unreal 
 phantom  that  has  cheated  his  eyes  and 
 allured  his  wandering  steps  onward  and 
 upward  to  the  gates  of  hell,  shall  vanish 
 then  in  "the  blacknesu  of  darkness  for 
 ever  !"— all  his  fears  fulfilled  ;  all  his  hopes 
 blasted !  Dr.  B.  JFardlaio. 
 
 WICKED— Freedom  of  the. 
 
 All  the  freedom  that  wicked  men  have 
 is  but  like  that  of  banished  men — to  wan- 
 der up  and  down  in  the  wilderness  of  this 
 world  from  one  den  and  cave  to  another. 
 
 Plato  hath  long  since  concluded  con- 
 cerning the  condition  of  sensual  men,  that 
 they  live  "  like  a  shellfish" — and  can  never 
 move  up  and  down  but  in  their  own  prison, 
 which  they  ever  carry  about  with  them. 
 
 Wicked  men  are  most  narrow  and  con- 
 fined spirits ;  they  are  so  contracted  by  the 
 pinehing  particularities  of  earthly  and 
 created  things,  so  imprisoned  in  a  dark 
 dungeon  of  sensuality  and  selfishness,  so 
 straitened  through  their  carnal  designs 
 and  ends,  that  they  cannot  stretch  them- 
 selves, nor  look  beyond  the  horizon  of  time 
 and  sense.  John  Smith. 
 
 WICKED— Treasures  of  the. 
 
 Every  man  is  treasuring  up  stores  for 
 eternity  : — the  good  are  laying  up  trea- 
 sures in  heaven,  where  moth  doth  not  cor- 
 rupt ; — the  evil  and  impenitent  are  "  trea- 
 suring up  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath." 
 What  an  idea  is  this !  Treasures  of 
 wrath  !  Whatever  the  impenitent  man  is 
 doing,  he  is  treasuring  up  wrath.  He  may 
 be  getting  wealth ;  but  he  is  treasuring 
 up  wrath.  He  may  be  getting  fame ;  but 
 he  is  treasuring  up  wrath.  He  may  be 
 forming  pleasing  connections ;  but  he  is 
 also  treasuring  up  wTath :  every  day  adds 
 something  to  the  heap.  Every  oath  the 
 swearer  utters,  there  is  something  gone  to 
 the  heap  of  wrath.  Every  lie  the  liar  tells; 
 every  licentious  act  the  lewd  man  commits, 
 adds  something  to  the  treasure  of  wrath. 
 The   sinner  ha«   a  weightier  treasure   of 
 
 wrath  to-day  than  he  had  yesterday;  he 
 will  have  a  weightier  to-morrow  than  he 
 has  to-day.  When  he  lies  down  at  night 
 he  is  richer  in  vengeance  than  when  he 
 arose  in  the  morning.  He  is  continually 
 deepening  and  darkening  his  eternal  por- 
 tion. Every  neglected  Sabbath  increases 
 his  store  of  wrath  ;  every  forgotten  ser- 
 mon adds  something  to  the  weight  of  pun- 
 ishment. All  the  checks  of  conscience,  all 
 the  remonstrances  of  friends,  all  the  advice 
 and  prayers  of  parents,  will  be  taken  into 
 the  account,  and  all  will  tend  to  increase 
 the  treasures  of  wrath  laid  up  against  the 
 day  of  wrath.  J.  A.  James. 
 
 WICKED— TriTunph  of  the. 
 
 How  short  is  the  triumph  of  the  wicked ! 
 When  they  begin  to  crow,  God  stoppeth 
 their  breath ;  and  judgment  seizeth  upon 
 them,  when  they  think  no  danger  near 
 them.  So,  when  Belshazzar  was  in  his 
 mirth  with  his  nobles,  the  fearful  hand 
 wrote  his  doom  upon  the  wall,  and  presently 
 his  mirth  was  changed  into  sadness,  that 
 he  became  as  one  that  was  stricken  with 
 a  palsy ;  so,  while  Herod  vaunted  himself 
 and  the  people  honoured  him  like  a  God, 
 the  angel  of  God  smote  him  upon  his  throne 
 and  immediately  he  was  devoured  of  worms 
 in  the  face  of  them  which  honoured  him ; 
 so,  while  the  Philistines  were  triumphing 
 and  banqueting,  Samson  pulled  the  temple 
 upon  their  heads ;  so,  while  the  men  of 
 Ziklag  were  feasting  and  dancing,  David 
 came  upon  them  and  slew  them  ;  when  tlie 
 Israelites  were  at  their  manna  and  quails, 
 even  while  the  meat  (saith  David)  was  yet 
 in  their  mouths,  God  took  away  their  lives  ; 
 when  Job's  children  were  making  merry 
 one  with  another,  the  wind  came  and  blew 
 down  the  house;  while  the  old  world  was 
 marrying  and  giving  in  marriage,  the 
 flood  came  and  drowned  them  ;  while  the 
 steward  was  recounting  with  himself  and 
 thinking  that  his  master  knew  not  what 
 policy  was  in  his  heart,  suddenly  his  Lord 
 called  him  to  account;  while  the  churl 
 was  musing  of  his  barns  full  of  corn,  and 
 saying  to  himself.  Be  merry,  my  soul,  that 
 night  his  soul  was  taken  from  him ;  so, 
 while  we  sin  and  think  nothing  of  it,  our 
 sins  mount  up  to  heaven,  and  stand  at 
 the  bar,  and  call  for  vengeance  against  us. 
 How  soon  Abel's  blood  called  for  ven- 
 geance of  Cain  !  We  cannot  sin  so  quickly 
 but  God  seeth  us  as  quickly.  How  many 
 have  been  stricken  while  the  oath  hath 
 been  in  their  mouths,  as  Jeroboam  was 
 stricken  while  he  spoke,  that  they  might 
 see  why  they  were  stricken.  Though  a 
 man  sin  often,  and  steal  his  sins  as  it  were 
 without  punishment,  yet  at  last  he  is  taken 
 napping,  even  while  the  wickedness  is  in 
 his  hand,  and  his  day  is  set  when  he  shall 
 pay  for   all,  whether   it   be   after  twelve 
 
months  or  twelve  years,  when  it  cometh 
 it  will  seem  too  soon.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 WIDOWHOOD— Modesty  of. 
 
 When  the  moon,  after  covering  herself 
 with  darkness  as  in  sorrow,  at  last  throws 
 off  the  garments  of  her  widowhood,  she 
 does  not  expose  her  beauty  at  once  bare- 
 facedly to  the  eye  of  man,  but  veils  herself 
 for  a  time  in  a  transparent  cloud,  till,  by 
 degrees,  she  gains  courage  to  endure  the 
 gaze  and  admiration  of  beholders.      JIare. 
 
 WIFE— Good. 
 
 A  good  wife  raahes  the  cares  of  the  world 
 sit  easy,  and  adds  a  sweetness  to  its  plea- 
 sures :  she  is  a  man's  best  companion  in 
 pi  osperity,  and  his  only  friend  in  adversity; 
 the  most  careiul  preserver  of  his  health, 
 and  the  kindest  attendant  on  his  sickness  ; 
 a  faithful  adviser  in  distress,  a  comforter 
 in  affliction,  and  a  discreet  manager  of  all 
 his  domestic  affairs.  L.  M.  Stretch. 
 
 A  good  wife  should  be  like  three  things  : 
 which  three  things  she  should  not  be  like. 
 First,  she  should  be  like  a  snail,  to  keep 
 within  her  own  house ;  but  she  should  not 
 be  like  the  snail,  to  carry  all  she  has  upon 
 her  back.  Secondly,  she  should  be  like  an 
 echo,  to  speak  when  spoken  to;  but  she 
 should  not  be  like  an  echo,  always  to  have 
 the  last  word.  Thirdly,  she  should  be 
 like  a  toion  clock,  always  to  keep  time  and 
 regularity  ;  but  she  should  not,  like  a  town 
 clock,  speak  so  loud  that  all  the  town  may 
 hear  her.  Anon. 
 
 The  grace  of  a  wife  delighteth  her  hus- 
 band, and  her  discretion  will  fatten  his 
 bones.  A  silent  and  loving  woman  is  a 
 gift  of  the  Lord  ;  and  there  is  nothing  so 
 much  as  a  mind  well  instructed.  A  shame- 
 faced and  faithful  woman  is  a  double  grace, 
 and  her  continent  mind  cannot  be  valued. 
 As  the  sun  when  it  ariseth  in  the  high 
 heaven,  so  is  the  beauty  of  a  good  wife  in 
 the  ordering  of  her  house.    Ecclesiasticus. 
 
 WIFE— literary. 
 
 Reiske  affixed  his  wife's  portrait  to  his 
 learned  and  excellent  edition  of  the  Greek 
 orators.  In  the  preface  to  his  first  volume, 
 he  speaks  with  much  gratitude  and  affec- 
 tion of  the  assistance  she  rendered  him  in 
 comparing  the  numerous  editions  and 
 manuscripts,  while  he  used  to  correct  the 
 text. 
 
 "She  is,"  says  he,  "a  modest  and  frugal 
 woman :  she  loves  me  and  my  literary  em- 
 ployments, and  is  an  industrious  and  skil- 
 ful assistant.  Induced  by  affection  for  me, 
 she  applied  herself  to  the  study  of  Greek 
 and  Latin  under  my  tuition.  She  knew 
 neither  of  these  languages  when  we  were 
 married;  but  she  was  soon  able  to  lighten 
 
 WIDOWHOOD— WIFE. 
 
 the  multifirious  and  very  severe  labours  to 
 be  performed  in  this  undertaking.  The 
 Aldine  and  Pauline  editions  she  alone  com- 
 pared; also  the  fourth  Augustine  edition. 
 As  I  had  taught  her  the  Erasmian  pro- 
 nunciation, she  read  first  to  me  the  JVIo- 
 rellian  copy,  while  I  read  those  in  manu- 
 script. She  laboured  unweariedly  in  ar- 
 ranging, correcting,  and  preparing  my  con- 
 fused copy  for  the  press.  As  I  deeply  feel, 
 and  publicly  express,  my  gratitude  for  her 
 aid,  so  I  trust  that  present  and  future 
 generations  may  hold  her  name  in  honoured 
 remembrance."  Mrs.  Child. 
 
 WIFE— Loss  of  a. 
 
 In  comparison  with  the  loss  of  a  wife  all 
 other  bereavements  are  trifling.  The  wife  ! 
 she  who  fills  so  large  a  space  in  the  do- 
 mestic circle ;  she  who  busies  herself  so 
 unweariedly  for  the  precious  ones  around 
 her;  bitter,  bitter,  is  the  tear  that  falls  on 
 her  cold  clay  !  You  stand  beside  her  coffin, 
 and  think  of  the  past.  It  seems  an  amber- 
 coloured  pathway,  where  the  sun  shone 
 up(m  beautiful  flowers,  or  the  stars  hung 
 glittering  overhead.  Fain  would  the  soul 
 linger  there.  No  thorns  are  remembered, 
 save  those  your  hands  may  unwillingly 
 have  planted.  Her  noble,  tender  heart 
 lies  open  to  your  inmost  sight.  You  think 
 of  her  now  as  all  gentleness,  all  beauty,  all 
 purity.  But  she  is  dead!  The  hands 
 that  have  ministered  so  untiringly  are 
 folded,  white  and  cold,  beneath  the  gloomy 
 portal.  The  heart  whose  every  beat  mea- 
 sured an  eternity  of  love  lies  under  your 
 feet.  The  flowers  she  bent  over  with 
 smiles  bend  now  above  her  in  tears,  shak- 
 ing the  dew  from  their  petals,  that  the 
 verdure  around  her  may  be  kept  green  and 
 beautiful.  Anon. 
 
 WIFE— Perfect. 
 
 Eyes  not  down-dropp'd,  nor  over  bright, 
 but  fed 
 With  clear-pointed  flame  of  chastity; 
 
 Locks  not  wide  dispread, 
 Madonna-wise,  on  either  side  her  head; 
 Sweet  lips,  whereon  perpetually  did  reign 
 The  summer  calm  of  golden  charity. 
 
 Were  fixed  shadows  of  thy  fixed  mood. 
 Revered  Isabel,  the  crown  and  head, 
 The  stately  flower  of  female  fortitude. 
 
 Of  her  perfect  wifehood  and  pure  lowlihood. 
 A  courage  to  endure  and  to  obey — 
 A  hate  of  gossip  parlance,  and  of  sway, 
 
 Crown'd  Isabel,  through  all  her  placid  life. 
 
 The  queen  of  marriage — a  most   perfect 
 wife.  Tennyson. 
 
 WIFE— Preciousness  of  a. 
 You  are  my  true  and  lionorable  wife, 
 As  dear  to  me,  as  are  the  ruddy  drops 
 That  visit  my  sad  heart.         Shakespeare. 
 
884 
 
 WIFE— WILL  OF  GOD. 
 
 WIFE— Eelation  of  a. 
 
 A  wife's  a  man's  best  piece;  who  till  he 
 
 marries. 
 Wants  making  up;  she  is  the  shrine  to 
 
 which 
 Nature  doth  send  us  forth  on  pilgrimage ; 
 She  was  a  scion  taken  froiu  that  tree. 
 Into  which,  if  she  has  no  second  grafting 
 The  world  can  have  no  fruit ;  she  is  man's 
 Arithmetic,  which  teaches  him  to  number 
 And  multiply  himself  in  his  own  children  ; 
 She  is  the  good  man's  paradise,  and  the 
 
 bad's 
 First  step  to  heaven ;  a  treasure  which,  who 
 
 wants, 
 Cannot  be  trusted  to  posterity. 
 Nor  pay  his   own  debts;    she's  a  golden 
 
 sentence 
 Writ  by  our  Maker,  which  the  angels  may 
 Discourse  of,  only  men  know  how  to  use, 
 And  none  but  devils  violate.  SJdrley. 
 
 WILL— Definition  of. 
 
 The  term  "will"  is  often  used  to  ex- 
 press the  mere  faculty  of  volition,  whereby 
 the  soul  chooses,  or  refuses,  or  determines 
 to  act,  and  the  exercise  of  that  faculty.  It 
 is  also  used  in  a  wider  sense,  and  in  this 
 sense  I  use  it  here,  to  include  the  faculty 
 of  volition  together  with  all  the  spontaneous 
 states  of  the  soul,  the  dispositions,  afiec- 
 tions,  desires,  which  determine  a  man  in 
 the  exercise  of  his  free  power  of  volition. 
 It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that 
 these  two  senses  of  the  word  "  will "  are 
 essentially  distinct.  The  will,  as  including 
 all  the  faculties  of  conation  (the  dispo- 
 sitions and  desires),  is  to  be  essentially 
 distinguished  fi-om  the  single  faculty  of 
 soul  exercised  in  the  resulting  volition ;  i.  e. 
 the  choosing  or  the  acting  according  to  its 
 prevailing  desire.  A.  A.  Hodge. 
 
 WILL— Perverted. 
 
 A  number  of  mariners,  on  a  certain  oc- 
 casion, following  infallibly  the  direction 
 of  the  compass,  finally  found  themselves  in 
 an  enemy's  port,  where  they  were  seized 
 and  made  slaves.  The  cause  of  this  was 
 the  captain,  in  order  to  betray  the  ship, 
 had  concealed  a  large  loadstone  at  a  little 
 distance  on  one  side  of  the  needle.  So 
 men  are  misguided  by  a  perverted  will, 
 acting  upon  the  conscience.  They  follow 
 what  course  the  conscience  directs,  and  are 
 led  into  moral  bondage.  The  conscience  is 
 deceived  by  the  will.  Dr.  McCosh. 
 
 WILL— Power  of. 
 
 I  remember  admiring  an  instance  of  this 
 kind,  in  a  firm,  sagacious,  and  estimable 
 old  man,  whom  I  well  knew,  and  who  has 
 long  been  dead.  Being  on  a  jury,  in  a 
 trial  of  life  and  death,  he  was  satisfied  of 
 the  innocence  of  the  prisoner;  the  other 
 
 eleven  were  of  the  opposite  opinion.  But 
 he  was  resolved  the  man  should  not  be 
 condemned ;  and  as  the  first  effort  for  pre- 
 venting it,  very  properly  made  application 
 to  the  minds  of  his  associates,  spending 
 several  hours  in  labouring  to  convince 
 them.  But  he  found  he  made  no  im- 
 pression, while  he  was  exhausting  the 
 strength  which  it  was  necessary  to  reserve 
 for  another  mode  of  operation.  He  thep 
 calmly  told  them  that  it  should  now  be  r. 
 trial  who  could  endure  confinement  ani 
 famine  the  longest,  and  that  they  might 
 be  quite  assured  he  would  sooner  die  than 
 release  them  at  the  expense  of  the  pri- 
 soner's life.  In  this  situation  they  spent 
 about  twenty-four  hours  ;  when  at  length 
 all  acceded  to  his  verdict  of  acquittal. 
 
 J.  Foster. 
 
 WILL — Regeneration  of  the. 
 
 The  will,  as  renewed,  inclines  and  points 
 towards  God  and  godliness.  When  God 
 made  man,  his  will  in  respect  of  its  in- 
 tention, was  directed  towards  God,  as  his 
 chief  end ;  in  respect  of  its  choice,  it 
 points  towards  that  which  God  willed. 
 When  man  unmade  himself,  his  will  was 
 framed  into  the  very  reverse  hereof;  he 
 made  himself  his  chief  end,  and  his  own 
 will  his  law.  But  when  man  is  new  made 
 in  regeneration,  grace  rectifies  this  disorder 
 in  some  measure,  though  not  perfectly.  It 
 brings  back  the  sinner  out  of  himself,  to 
 God  as  his  chief  end,  truly  though  not  per- 
 fectly. Boston. 
 
 WILL— Resolute. 
 
 A  person  actuated  by  such  a  spirit  seems 
 by  his  manner  to  say,  "  Do  you  think  that 
 I  would  not  disdain  to  adopt  a  purpose 
 which  I  would  not  devote  my  utmost  lorce 
 to  eftect ;  or  that  having  thus  devoted  my 
 exertions,  I  will  intermit  or  withdraw 
 them,  through  indolence,  debility,  or  ca- 
 price ;  or  that  I  will  surrender  my  object 
 to  any  interference,  except  the  uncon- 
 trollable dispensations  of  Providence  ?  No. 
 I  am  linked  to  my  determinatiun  with  iron 
 bands ;  it  clings  to  me  as  if  a  part  of  my 
 destiny ;  and  if  its  frustration  be,  on  the 
 contrary,  doomed  a  part  of  that  destiny,  it 
 is  doomed  so  only  through  calamity  or 
 death."  J.  Foster. 
 
 WILL  OF  GOD— Characteristics  of  the. 
 
 1.  It  is  a  good  will.  2.  A  holy  will.  3. 
 A  just  will.  4.  An  impartial  will.  5.  A 
 l^racticable  will.  6.  A  supreme  will.  7. 
 An  obligatory  will.  John  Bate. 
 
 WILL  OF  GOD— Knowledge  of  the. 
 
 This  is  the  first  and  last  lesson  of  a 
 Christian,  to  know  the  good  and  perfect 
 and  acceptable  will  of  God;  which  must 
 make  us  good  and  perfect,  and  acceptable 
 
WILL  OP  GOD— WISDOM. 
 
 ourselves.  The  will  of  God  is  always  good 
 and  acceptable,  and  perfect,  howsoever  it 
 seem  to  us.  Though  it  condemn  us  of 
 evil,  yet  it  is  good;  though  we  see  not 
 how  it  is  perfect,  yet  it  is  perfect,  nay  it 
 is  so  perfect,  that  we  cannot  see  the  per- 
 fection of  it,  as  the  sun  is  so  bright,  that 
 we  cannot  behold  the  brightness  of  it. 
 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 WILL  OF  GOD— Nature  of  the. 
 
 God  has  a  will  which  bears  upon  all 
 alike,  viz.  that  all  should  be  saved  and 
 come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  In 
 order  to  the  accomplishment  of  this,  there 
 are  certain  particular  expressions  of  His 
 will,  which  must  be  effected.  1.  He  wills 
 that  the  impenitent  sinner  should  repent. 
 2.  That  the  repentant  sinner  should  believe 
 in  Jesus  for  salvation.  3.  That  the  be- 
 lieving sinner  should  grow  in  grace,  attain 
 holiness,  and  be  faithful  unto  death. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 WILL  OP  GOD— Submission  to  the. 
 
 Socrates,  when  the  tyrant  did  threaten 
 death  to  him,  told  him  he  was  willing ; 
 "Nay,  then,"  said  the  tyrant,  "you  shall 
 live  against  your  will."  "Nay,  but,"  said 
 Socrates,  "whatever you  do  with  me,  it  shall 
 be  my  will."  And  a  certain  Stoic,  speak- 
 ing of  God,  said,  "  What  God  will,  I  will  ; 
 what  God  nills,  I  will  not;  if  He  will  that 
 I  live,  I  will  live ;  if  it  be  His  pleasure  that 
 I  die,  I  will  die."  ^Ah,  how  should  the 
 will  of  Christians  stoop  and  lie  down  at 
 the  foot  of  God's  willj  not  my  will,  but 
 Thine,  be  done.  Venning. 
 
 WILL  OP  GOD— Suffering  the. 
 
 One  of  the  highest  and  most  acceptable 
 services  we  can  render  to  God  is  to  suffer 
 with  perfect  patience  all  His  will.  It  is 
 an  offering  of  which  angels  and  disembodied 
 spirits  are  incapable;  they  perform  the 
 will  of  their  Father  with  indescribable 
 cheerfulness  and  intense  zeal,  but  blessed 
 be  God,  we  can  suffer  as  well  as  do  the 
 will  of  our  heavenly  Father,  and  I  find  an 
 increasing  sweet  resignation  to  His  divine 
 will.  I  am  enabled  to  sit  and  sweat,  and 
 smile  under  pain  of  body,  saying,  Glory, 
 glory,  glory.  Longden. 
 
 WILL- WOESHIP— Definition  of. 
 
 In  the  second  chapter  of  his  Epistle  to 
 the  Colossians,  St.  Paul  speaks  slightingly 
 of  will-worship.  By  will  worship  is  meant 
 the  paying  homage  to  Almighty  God  after 
 a  fashion  devised  by  ourselves,  and  not 
 dictated  by  His  Word.  It  is  the  wor- 
 shipping Him  according  to  the  leanings  of 
 our  own  will,  not  according  to  the  inti- 
 mations which  He  has  been  pleased  to 
 make  to  us  of  His.  I>r.  Ooulburn. 
 
 WISDOM— Definition  of. 
 
 Wisdom  consists  in  the  choice  of  the 
 best  ends,  and  the  use  of  the  most  appro- 
 priate means  to  accomplish  those  ends. 
 
 B.  Watson. 
 
 Wisdom  consists  chiefly  in  three  things : 
 — 1.  Knowledge  to  discern.  2.  Skill  to 
 judge.     3.  Activity  to  prosecute. 
 
 T.  Watson. 
 
 WISDOM— Excellency  of. 
 
 I  called  upon  God,  and  the  spirit  of 
 wisdom  came  to  me.  I  preferred  her  be- 
 fore sceptres  and  thrones,  and  esteemed 
 riches  nothing  in  comparison  of  her. 
 Neither  compared  I  unto  her  any  precious 
 stone,  because  all  gold  in  respect  of  her  is 
 as  a  little  sand,  and  silver  sliall  be  counted 
 as  clay  to  her.  I  loved  her  above  health 
 and  beauty,  and  chose  to  have  her  instead 
 of  light;  for  the  light  that  cometh  from 
 her  never  goeth  out.  All  good  things  to- 
 getlier  came  to  me  with  her,  and  innumer- 
 able riches  in  her  hands.  And  1  rejoiced 
 in  them  all  because  wisdom  goeth  before 
 them.  Wisdom  of  Solomon. 
 
 WISDOM— Guard  of. 
 
 As  God  appointed  the  people  their  bounds 
 which  they  might  not  pass,  when  He  talked 
 with  Moses  in  the  Mount;  so  He  hath 
 appointed  certain  precincts  of  wisdom, 
 which,  when  we  transgress,  we  may  be  said 
 to  exceed  our  commission,  like  Shimei  when 
 he  went  beyond  the  river,  which  Solomon 
 forbad  him.  The  rail  or  pale  of  wisdom 
 is  Sobriety.  As  wisdom  is  made  overseer 
 over  all  other  virtues,  so  sobriety  is  made 
 overseer  of  wisdom,  to  measure  it  forth  in 
 even  portions  and  due  seasons,  that  none 
 of  God's  gii'ts  be  lost;  as  water  is  unto  the 
 wine,  to  allay  the  heat  of  it,  and  salt  is  to 
 meat,  to  make  it  savoury,  so  sobriety  is  to 
 wisdom,  to  make  it  wholesome  and  piotit- 
 able  to  him  that  hath  it,  and  them  which 
 seek  it  of  him.  Renry  Smith. 
 
 WISDOM— Negative  View  of. 
 
 Confound  not  wisdom  with  erudition. 
 They  may  be  connected,  and  should  accom- 
 pany one  another,  but  they  are  not  always 
 so,  and  perhaps  only  in  a  few  instances. 
 Confound  not  wisdom  with  a  sullen,  morose 
 character,  with  a  gravity  frightful  to  all 
 mirth  and  pleasure,  with  a  life  consisting 
 entirely  in  rigid  abstinence  and  perpetual 
 mortification.  Confound  not  wisdom  with 
 singularit}'  in  the  bad  sense  of  the  term, 
 according  to  which  it  is  an  endeavour  to 
 attract  notice,  and  to  distinguish  one's  self 
 from  others,  not  so  much  in  important  and 
 essential  matters,  as  in  pure  insignificant 
 trirtes  relative  to  externals.  Confound  not 
 wisdom  with  understanding  ami  sagacity. 
 
886 
 
 'WISDOM— -WISDOM  OF  GOD. 
 
 Tliey  come,  indeed,  tlie  nearest  to  it,  are 
 more  or  less  implied  in  it,  and  belong  in 
 some  measure  to  it;  however  tiiey  are  not 
 wisdom  itself.  G.  J.  Zollikofer. 
 
 WISDOM— of  a  Poor  Man. 
 
 An  old  man,  of  very  acute  physiognomy, 
 answering  to  the  name  of  Jacob  Wilmot, 
 ■was  brought  before  the  Police  Court.  His 
 clothes  looked  as  if  they  might  have  been 
 bought  second-handed  in  his  youthful 
 prime,  for  they  had  suffered  more  from 
 the  rubs  of  the  world  than  the  proprietor 
 himself. 
 
 "  What  business  ?" 
 
 "  None ;  I'm  a  traveller." 
 
 "  A  vagabond,  perhaps  ?" 
 
 "  You  are  not  far  from  wrong ;  travellers 
 and  vagabonds  are  about  the  same  thing. 
 The  difference  is  that  the  latter  travel 
 without  money,  and  the  former  without 
 brains." 
 
 "  Where  have  you  travelled  ?" 
 
 "All  over  the  continent." 
 
 ♦'  For  what  purpose  ?" 
 
 "  Observation." 
 
 "  What  have  you  observed  ?" 
 
 "  A  little  to  commend,  much  to  censure, 
 and  very  much  to  laugh  at." 
 
 "  Humph  !  what  do  you  commend  ?" 
 
 "A  handsome  woman  that  will  stay  at 
 home,  an  eloquent  preacher  that  will 
 preach  short  sermons,  a  good  writer  that 
 will  not  write  too  much,  and  a  fool  that 
 has  sense  enough  to  hold  his  tongue." 
 
 "  What  do  you  censure  ?" 
 
 "  A  man  who  marries  a  girl  for  her  fine 
 clothing,  a  youth  who  studies  law  or  medi- 
 cine while  he  has  got  the  use  of  his  hands, 
 and  the  people  who  elect  a  drunkard  to 
 office." 
 
 "  What  do  you  laugh  at  ?" 
 
 "  I  laugh  at  a  man  who  expects  his  po- 
 sition to  command  that  respect  which  his 
 personal  qualities  and  ciualitications  do  not 
 merit." 
 
 He  was  dismissed.  Haven. 
 
 WISDOM— Seeking. 
 
 Most  persons  proceed  as  if  they  expected 
 to  obtain  wisdom,  as  Abu  Zeid  al  Hassan 
 declares  some  Chinese  philosophers  thought 
 oysters  got  their  pearls,  viz.  by  gaping. 
 
 Magoon. 
 
 WISDOM— Worth  of. 
 
 If  the  mountains  were  pearl,  if  every 
 sand  of  the  sea  were  a  diauioud,  it  were 
 not  comparable  to  wisdom.  Without 
 wisdom  a  person  is  like  a  ship  without  a 
 pilot,  in  danger  to  split  upon  rocks.  The 
 price  of  wisdom  is  above  rubies.  The  ruby 
 is  a  precious  stone,  transparent,  of  a  red 
 fiery  colour.  1 1  is  reported  of  one  of  the 
 kings  of  India .  he  wore  a  ruby  of  that 
 bigness  and  sp  sndour,  that  he  might  be 
 
 seen  by  it  in  the  dark ;  but  wisdom  casts  a 
 more  sparkling  colour  than  the  ruby,  it 
 makes  us  shine  as  angels.  J.  Watson. 
 
 WISDOM  AND  rOLLY. 
 
 "  Sold  thy  ]peace  J"  says  Wisdom  to 
 Folly. 
 
 "Hold  thy  peace!"  rephes  Folly  to 
 Wisdom." 
 
 "Fly/"  cries  Light  to  Darkness:  and 
 Darkness  echoes  back  Fly  ! 
 
 The  latter  chase  has  been  going  on  since 
 the  beginning  of  the  world,  without  an 
 inch  of  ground  gained  on  either  side. 
 Way  we  believe  that  the  result  has  been 
 di liferent  in  the  contest  between  wisdom 
 and  folly  ?  Hare. 
 
 WISDOM  OF  GOD, 
 
 Were  the  air  divested  of  its  undulating 
 quality,  we  should  be  deprived  of  all  the 
 advantages  of  speech  and  conversation,  and 
 of  all  the  pleasures  of  music.  Were  it  de- 
 prived of  its  reflective  powers,  the  sun 
 would  appear  in  one  part  of  the  sky  in 
 dazzling  brightness,  while  all  around  would 
 appear  dark  as  midnight,  and  the  stars 
 would  be  visible  at  noon-day.  Were 
 it  deprived  of  its  refractive  powers,  in- 
 stead of  the  gradual  approach  of  day  and 
 the  nightj  which  we  now  experience,  we 
 should  be  transported  all  at  once  from 
 midnight  darkness  to  the  splendours  of 
 noonday;  and  at  sunset  should  make  a 
 sudden  transition  from  the  splendours  of 
 diiy  to  all  the  horrors  of  midnight.  In  fine, 
 were  the  oxygen  of  the  air  completely  ex- 
 tracted, destruction  would  seize  on  all  the 
 tribes  of  the  living  world,  throughout  ali 
 the  regions  of  earth,  air  and  sea. 
 
 Br.  t>ich. 
 
 The  mouth  of  the  whale  offers  an  instance 
 of  ingenuity  and  foresight.  Comparing  it 
 to  human  inventions,  it  is  a  shrimping  net 
 while  no  one  could  have  divined  that  the 
 largest  animal  of  all  creation  should  have 
 been  commanded  to  seek  its  food  among 
 the  smallest ;  that  millions  should  be  daily 
 destroyed  to  support  one  life  ;  so,  however, 
 has  it  been  ordered.  But  had  the  whale 
 been  condemned  to  swallow  all  the  water 
 which  it  must  draw  into  its  mouth  together 
 with  its  prey,  the  inconveniences  which 
 would  have  followed  are  obvious.  To  pre- 
 vent this  it  is  provided  with  a  singular 
 piece  of  machinery,  consisting  of  a  series 
 of  flat  hoops,  meeting  from  both  sides  of 
 the  mouth  into  arches,  and  carrying  ranges 
 of  bristles  which  form  a  strainer  and  also 
 a  kind  of  net.  The  water  is  thus  rejected, 
 and  the  mass  of  shrimps  is  delivered  to  the 
 throat.  Macculloch, 
 
 The  secondary  ofiice  of  a  bat's  legs  in 
 forming  a  portion  of  its  wings,  renders  it 
 
"WISDOm  AND  HAPPIITESS— -WIT. 
 
 887 
 
 almost  impotent  on  the  p'ound;  and  its 
 dwelling  places  demanded  the  power  of 
 perching.  Man  contrives  a  hook  oa  which 
 to  hang  such  things  as  the  ground  will 
 not  conveniently  receive,  or  he  attaches  a 
 hook  to  the  object  itself.  This  has  been 
 done  for  the  bat.  It  has  two  hooks  and  it 
 hangs  itself  up  to  rest.  Here,  at  least, 
 he  who  doubts  the  design  and  the  artist 
 must  deny  his  own  ingenuity  and  inven- 
 tions. Ilacculloch. 
 
 WISDOM  AND  HAPPINESS. 
 
 There  is  this  difference  between  happi- 
 ness and  wisdom  :  he  that  thinks  himself 
 the  happiest  man  really  is  so;  but  he  that 
 thinks  himself  the  wisest,  is  generally  the 
 greatest  fool.  C.  CoUon. 
 
 WISDOM  AND  INNOCENCY, 
 
 Wisdom  without  innocency  is  knavery  ; 
 innocence  without  wisdom  is  foolery;  be 
 therefore  as  wise  as  serpents  and  innocent 
 as  doves.  The  subtilty  of  the  serpent  in- 
 structs the  innocency  of  the  dove;  the 
 innocency  of  the  dove  corrects  the  sub- 
 tilty of  the  serpent.  What  God  hath 
 joined  together  let  not  man  separate. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 When  wisdom  and  innocency,  like 
 Castor  and  Pollux,  appear  together  they 
 presage  the  soul's  happiness. 
 
 /.  Watson. 
 
 WISE-POOL— Marks  of  a. 
 
 If  you  would  know  such  as  are  wise  above 
 sobriety  you  shall  discern  them  by  these 
 marks : — First,  they  have  all  the  talk, 
 wheresoever  they  come,  like  parrots.  Se- 
 condly, they  contemn  others,  like  the  Phari- 
 sees. Thirdly, they  spurn  at  them  which  tell 
 them  of  their  fault,  like  Abner.  Fourthly, 
 they  jump  with  Caasar,  like  the  Herodians. 
 Fifthly,  they  turn  with  the  time,  like 
 Demas.  Sixthly,  they  seek  their  own  credit 
 by  the  discredit  of  others,  like  the  enemies 
 of  Paul.  Seventhly,  they  love  to  hear 
 their  own  praise,  like  Herod.  Eighthly, 
 above  all  things  they  would  have  their  own 
 will,  like  Jezebel.  Whensoever  these  eight 
 marks  meet,  there  is  a  wise  man  and  a 
 fool;  a  wise  man  in  his  own  conceit,  and 
 a  fool  in  proof:  these  are  the  wise  men  of 
 the  north,  and  the  philosophers  of  England. 
 Henry  Smith. 
 
 WISH— Nature  of  a. 
 
 There  is  nothing  more  properly  the 
 language  of  the  heart  than  a  wi»h.  It  is 
 the  thirst  and  egress  of  it,  after  some 
 wanted,  but  desired  object.  Dr.  South. 
 
 WISH— Punished. 
 
 It  is  probable  that  God  punishes  the 
 wish  as  much  as  He  does  the  actual  per- 
 
 formance; for  what  is  performance,  but  a 
 wish  perfected  with  power;  and  what  is  a 
 wish,  but  a  desire  wanting  opportunity  of 
 action ;  a  desire  sticking  in  the  birth,  and 
 miscarrying  for  lack  of  strength  and  fa- 
 vorable circumstances  to  bring,  it  into  the 
 world.  Dr.  South, 
 
 WISHES— Idle. 
 
 Wishes  are  parents  of  large  families ;  of 
 idle,  vain  dreams,  and  air-castles.  Wishes 
 usually  respect  a  good  not  within  reach; 
 but  that  wish  brings  up  the  contemplated 
 good,  and  gives  fancy  wings,  and  the  vain 
 and  trifling  mind  flies  abroad  on  all  sorts 
 of  excursions  in  all  directions.  He  who 
 loves  to  wish,  generally  "loves  also  to  give 
 his  imagination  the  reins.  And  the  idle 
 wish  will  start  him  off  on  a  jo^urney  of 
 imaginings,  and  he  is  far  gone,  sometimes 
 long  gone,  from  the  sober  and  substantial 
 realities  of  life.  He  comes  back  drooping 
 and  languid  from  that  profitless  excursion, 
 and  greatly  unfitted  for  the  actual,  serious 
 business  of  life.  It  was  the  idle  wish  that 
 sent  him  away  from  home.  He  gained 
 nothing  by  the  journey  but  mental  empti- 
 ness and  some  stripes  of  conscience,  if  it 
 were  sharp  enough  to  discern  and  act  in 
 view  of  such  folly.  Anon, 
 
 WISHING— Folly  of. 
 
 Wishing,  of  all  employments,  is  the  worst — 
 Philosophy's  reverse,  and  health's  decay. 
 Were  I  as  plump  as  stall'd  theology. 
 Wishing  would  waste   me  to  thin  shade 
 
 again. 
 Were  I  as  wealthy  as  a  South-sea  dream, 
 Wishing  is  an  expedient  to  be  poor : 
 Wishing,  that  constant  hectic  of  a  fool, 
 Caught  at  a  court,  purged  off  by  purer  air 
 And  simpler  diet.  Young, 
 
 WIT— Captivation  of. 
 
 There  is  no  quality  of  the  mind,  nor  of 
 the  body,  that  so  instantaneously  and  irre- 
 sistibly captivates,  as  wit.  An  elegant 
 writer  has  observed,  that  wit  may  do  very 
 well  for  a  mistress,  but  that  he  should 
 prefer  reason  for  a  wife.  He  that  deserts 
 the  latter,  and  gives  himself  up  entirely  to 
 the  guidance  of  the  former,  will  certainly 
 fall  into  many  pitfalls  and  (juagmires,  like 
 him  v.'ho  walks  by  flashes  of  lightning, 
 rather  than  by  the  steady  beams  of  the 
 sun.  C.  Colton, 
 
 WIT— Definitions  of. 
 
 Wit  consists  in  assembling,  and  putting 
 together  with  quickness,  ideas  in  which 
 can  be  found  resemblance  and  congruity, 
 by  which  to  make  up  pleasant  pictures  and 
 agreeable  visions  in  the  fancy.  Loclce, 
 
 Wit  consists  chiefly  in  joining  things  by 
 
•WIT— WITNESS  OP  THE  SPIRIT. 
 
 di-;tant  and  fanciful  relations,  which  sur- 
 prise us  because  they  are  unexpected. 
 
 Karnes. 
 
 WIT— Effects  of. 
 
 Wit  is  one  of  the  few  things  which  has 
 been  rewarded  more  often  than  it  has  been 
 defined.  A  certain  bishop  said  to  his 
 chaplain,  "  What  is  wit  ?"  The  chap- 
 lain  replied,   "The   rectory  of  B is 
 
 vacant,  give  it  to  me,  and  that  will  be 
 wit."  "  Prove  it,"  said  his  lordship,  "  and 
 you  shall  have  it."  "It  would  he  a  good 
 thing  well  applied,"  rejoined  the  cliaplain. 
 Tlie  dinner  daily  prepared  for  the  royal 
 chaplains  at  St.  James's  was  reprieved  for 
 a  time,  from  suspension,  by  an  eflbrt  of 
 wit.  King  Charles  liad  appointed  a  day 
 for  dining  with  his  chaplains;  and  it  was 
 understood  that  tliis  step  was  adopted  as 
 the  least  unpalatable  mode  of  putting  an 
 end  to  the  dinner.  It  was  Dr.  South's 
 turn  to  say  grace  ;  and  whenever  the  king 
 honoured  Ids  chaplains  with  his  presence, 
 the  prescribed  formula  ran  thus : — "  God 
 save  the  king,  and  bless  the  dinner."  Our 
 witty  divine  took  the  lilierty  of  transposing 
 the  words,  by  saying,  "  God  bless  tlie  king, 
 and  save  the  dinner."  "  And  it  shall  be 
 saved,"  said  the  monarch.  C.  Colton. 
 
 Wit   charms    the    lively    but    the    grave 
 
 offends. 
 And   raises   foes   more   often  than  makes 
 
 friends ; 
 Like  the  resistless  beams  of  blazing  light, 
 That   cheers   the    strong,    but    pains    the 
 
 weaker  sight.  Stillingfieet. 
 
 WIT— Triumphs  of. 
 
 The  conquest  of  wit  over  the  mind,  is 
 not  like  that  of  the  Romans  over  the  body  ; 
 a  conquest  regulated  by  policy,  and  per- 
 petuated by  prudence ;  a  conquest  tliat 
 conciliated  that  it  subdued,  and  improved 
 all  that  it  conciliated.  The  triumphs  of 
 wit  should  rather  be  compared  to  the 
 inroads  of  the  Parthians,  splendid,  but 
 transient ;  a  victory  succeeding  by  surprise, 
 and  indebted  more  to  the  sharpness  of  the 
 arrow,  than  the  strength  of  the  arm,  and 
 to  the  rapidity  of  an  evolution,  rather  than 
 to  the  solidity  of  a  phalanx.         C.  Colton. 
 
 WITNESS  OP  THE  SPIRIT— Abiding. 
 
 Believers  have  a  double  testimony,  one 
 without,  and  one  within ;  and  this  witness 
 within  us  will  go  with  us  which  way  so- 
 ever we  go  ;  it  will  accompany  us  through 
 all  straits  and  difficulties.  Tlie  external 
 testimony  may  be  taken  from  us,  our 
 Bibles,  our  Teachers,  our  Friends;  or  they 
 may  imprison  us  where  we  cannot  enjoy 
 them ;  but  they  cannot  take  from  us  the 
 Spirit  of  Christ.     This  witness  within,  is  a 
 
 permanent,   settled,    habituate,    standing, 
 witness.  Ambrose. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT— Definitions  of 
 the. 
 
 The  testimony  of  the  Spirit  is  an  inward 
 impression  of  tlie  soul,  whereby  the  Spirit 
 of  God  directly  "  witnesses  to  ray  spirit, 
 that  I  am  a  child  of  God ;"  that  Jesus 
 Christ  hath  loved  me,  and  given  Himself 
 for  me;  and  that  all  my  sins  are  blotted 
 out,  and  I — even  I — am  reconciled  to  God. 
 John  Wesletf. 
 
 The  witness  of  the  Spirit,  which  directly 
 ascertains  to  us  the  blessing  of  our  accept- 
 ance with  God,  and  which,  impressing  on 
 our  hearts  a  sense  of  His  paternal  love 
 towards  us  in  Christ  Jesus,  creates  within 
 us  tliat  great  element  and  principle  of  the 
 new  nature, — love  to  Him  in  return. 
 
 Dr.  Hannah. 
 
 WITNESS  OP  THE  SPIRIT— Direct. 
 
 We  have  heard  one  witness  (that  of  our 
 own) ;  but  of  the  Supreme,  who  drops  all 
 the  suavities,  and  dictates  all  the  com- 
 fortable words  in  conscience,  is  the  Holy 
 Spirit :  "  The  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness 
 with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  cliildren  of 
 God,"  saith  the  Apostle;  avroTrvtvfia,  not 
 the  gifts  or  graces,  but  the  very  Spirit 
 itself  beareth  witness,  and  that  not  only 
 outwardly  in  the  word,  but  inwardly  ia 
 and  by  our  spirit ;  and  its  testimony  is, 
 "  that  we  are  the  children  of  God." 
 
 JE:  Folhill. 
 
 To  preclude  or  provide  against  the  error 
 of  supposing  that  the  Spirit's  testimony  is 
 to  be  found  only  or  chiefly  in  His  sancti- 
 fying operations,  or  in  the  fruits  of  love, 
 joy,  peace,  &c.,  the  apostle  states,  "The 
 Spirit  itself  beareth  witness,"  &c.  Tliis 
 term  is  not  merely  emphatic,  but  discrimi- 
 native, distinguishing  wluit  is  from  what 
 might  have  been ;  as  when  we  say,  "  he 
 himself  told  me,"  we  mean  to  affirm  that 
 his  testimony  was  obtained  neither  through 
 the  medium  of  any  other  person,  nor  l)y 
 any  process  of  reasoning,  but  immediately 
 from  liimself.  This,  tlieu,  and  nothing  less 
 than  this,  must  be  the  force  of  the  term  in 
 this  passage.  Had  the  apostle  meant  that 
 the  Spirit  witnesses  by  the  fruits  He  pro- 
 duces, he  would  not  have  said,  "  the  Spirit 
 tYse//"  beareth  witness."  S.  Hulme. 
 
 Alford  having  remarked  that  avrb,  itself, 
 expresses  the  independence  of  the  Spirit's 
 testimony  as  distinguished  from  the  witness 
 of  our  spirit,  adds,  "  all  have  agreed,  and 
 indeed  tliis  verse  is  decisive  for  it,  that  it 
 is  something  separate  from,  and  higher 
 than  all  subjective  inferences  and  con- 
 clusions." S.  Hulme. 
 
WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIEIT. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT— Direct. 
 
 Not  only  does  our  filial  spirit  towards 
 
 God  prove  that  we  are  His  children,  but 
 
 the  Holy  Spirit  itself  conveys  to  our  souls 
 
 the  assurance  of  this  delightful  fact. 
 
 A.  A. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIEIT— Frees  from 
 Doubt. 
 
 Should  it  still  be  inquired — How  does 
 the  Spirit  of  God  bea-r  witness  loitli  otir 
 sjjirit  that  we  are  the  children  of  God,  so 
 as  to  exclude  all  doubt,  and  evidence  the 
 'eality  of  our  sonship  ?  The  answei  is 
 clear,  from  what  has  beei\  observed  above. 
 Aud  first,  as  to  the  witness  of  our  spirit. 
 Tlie  soul  as  intimately  and  evidently  per- 
 ceives when  it  loves,  delights,  and  rejoices 
 in  God,  as  when  it  loves  and  delights  in 
 anything  on  earth.  Aud  it  can  no  more 
 doubt  whether  it  loves,  delights,  and  re- 
 joices, or  not,  than  whether  it  exists  or 
 not.     If  therefore  this  be  just  reasoning — 
 
 He  that  now  loves  God,  that  delights 
 aud  rejoices  in  Him,  with  an  humble  joy, 
 an  holy  delight,  and  an  obedient  love,  is  a 
 child  of  God. 
 
 But  I  thus  love,  delight,  and  rejoice  in 
 God; 
 
 Therefore  I  am  a  child  of  God. 
 
 Then  a  Christian  can  in  nowise  doubt 
 of  his  being  a  child  of  God.  Of  the  former 
 proposition,  he  has  as  full  an  assurance  as 
 he  has  that  the  Scriptures  are  of  God. 
 And  of  his  thus  loving  God,  he  has  an  in- 
 ward proof,  which  is  notliing  short  of  self- 
 evidence.  Thus  "the  testimony  of  our 
 own  spirit,"  is  with  the  most  intimate 
 conviction  manifested  to  our  hearts,  in 
 such  a  manner  as,  beyond  all  reasonable 
 doubt,  to  evince  the  reality  of  our  sonship. 
 J.  JVesle^. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT  —  Instan- 
 taneous. 
 The  witness  of  the  Spirit  from  its  nature 
 as  a  witness,  must  be  instantaneous.  A 
 witness  deposes  to  a  particular  fact,  and 
 there  must  be  a  particular  instant  of  time 
 when  his  testimony  is  given.  The  mathe- 
 matician slowly,  by  the  use  of  single 
 ciphers  and  symbols,  works  out  his  problems, 
 in  order  to  find  a  result  concerning  which 
 he  is  altogether  in  doubt ;  the  chemist 
 slowly  and  cautiously  conducts  experiments 
 to  find  out  the  nature  of  substances,  con- 
 cerning which  he  is  totally  ignorant;  but 
 a  wituess  enters  a  court  to  depose  to  a 
 fiict,  of  which  he  has  already  a  full  know- 
 ledge, and  whose  testimony  the  court  is 
 now  waiting  to  hear.  He  who  believes  in 
 Jesus  Christ  is  in  a  Scriptural  condition 
 to  receive  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  that 
 he  is  a  child  of  God,  and  the  case  neither 
 requires  nor  admits  that  the  wituess  should 
 
 be  gradually  imparted.  When  a  parent 
 has  forgiven  his  child,  he  does  not  gradually 
 reveal  that  fact  to  him,  but  gives  imme- 
 diate proof,  in  his  countenance  and  actions, 
 if  not  in  words,  that  he  again  loves  him. 
 
 S.  Huhne, 
 
 WITNESS   OF  THE  SPIRIT— Manner  of 
 
 the. 
 The  manner  how  the  Divine  testimony 
 is  manifested  to  the  heart,  I  do  not  take 
 upon  me  to  explain.  "  Such  knowledge  is 
 too  wonderful  and  excellent  for  me :  I 
 cannot  attain  unto  it.  The  wind  bloweth, 
 and  I  hear  the  sound  thereof.  But  I 
 cannot  tel'  how  it  cometh,  or  whither  it 
 goeth."  As  no  onfe  knoweth  the  things 
 of  a  man,  save  the  spirit  of  a  man  that  is 
 in  him  ;  so  the  manner  of  the  things  of 
 God  knoweth  no  one,  save  the  Spirit  of 
 God.  But  the  fact  we  know,  namely,  that 
 the  Spirit  of  God  does  give  a  believer  such 
 a  testimony  of  his  adoption,  that  while  it 
 is  present  to  the  soul,  he  can  no  more 
 doubt  of  the  shining  of  the  sun,  while  he 
 stands  in  the  full  blaze  of  his  beams. 
 
 J.  Wesley. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT— Mysterious. 
 
 Sow  the  Spirit  interpenetrates  man's 
 nature  and  works  in  our  faculties,  God  has 
 not  revealed,  nor  does  consciousness  inform 
 us.  Here,  then,  philosophy  has  no  data 
 on  which  to  base  a  theory,  for  both  con- 
 sciousness and  the  Bible  are  entirely  silent. 
 As  the  operations  of  God  in  the  proc'esses 
 of  nature  are  incomprehensible,  so  also  are 
 the  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the 
 heart  of  man.  This  analogy  is  employed 
 by  Jesus  Christ,  and  is  calculated  to  re- 
 buke and  repress  speculations  on  subjects 
 which,  to  human  reason,  are  absolutely  mys- 
 terious. "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it 
 listeth,"  &c.  S.  Huhne. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT— Necessary. 
 
 If  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  did  not  bear 
 testimony  to  paternal  love,  our  tongue 
 would  remain  silent,  for  we  could  not  in 
 prayer  call  Him  Father,  unless  we  were 
 assured  that  He  was  really  so.  Our  own 
 mind  of  itself,  indejiendent  of  the  pre- 
 ceding testimony  of  the  Spirit,  could  not 
 produce  this  persuasion  that  we  are  the 
 sons  of  God.  Calvin. 
 
 This  is  what  I  wish  you  not  to  rest 
 without.  Do  not  face  death  without  it : 
 do  not !  How  awful  to  go  to  appear  before 
 the  living  God,  if  you  have  not  the  tes- 
 timony in  your  souls  that  you  are  born  of 
 Him  !  John  Bunyan  well  describes  a  poor, 
 wretched,  self-deceived  pilgrim,  who  had 
 trusted  to  a  vague  and  general  belief 
 without -actual  conversion,  coming  to  the 
 gate  of  the  celestial  city,  but  refused  an 
 
SCO 
 
 WITNESS  0?  THE  SPIRIT— WOMAN. 
 
 entrance,  tocnnse  "lie  lir.d  uo  certificate 
 to  be  taken  in."  "  He  fumbled,"  says  he, 
 "  in  his  bosom  for  it,  but  he  found  none. 
 Then  I  saw  the  shining  ones  commanded 
 to  bind  him  head  and  heels,  and  throw  him 
 into  the  hole  at  the  side  of  the  hill." 
 Beware,  lest  thou  art  as  he. 
 
 Dr.  A.  Clarke. 
 
 WITNESS    OP    THE    SPIRIT  — and  our 
 Own. 
 
 That  this  testimony  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
 must  needs,  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
 be  antecedent  to  the  testimony  of  our  oion 
 spirit,  may  appear  from  this  single  con- 
 sideration. We  must  be  holy  of  heart,  and 
 holy  in  life,  before  we  can  be  conscious  that 
 we  are  so ;  before  we  can  have  tli.e  testi- 
 mony of  our  spirit,  that  we  are  inwardly 
 and  outwardly  holy.  Eut  we  must  love 
 God  before  we  can  be  holy  at  all ;  this 
 being  the  root  of  all  holiness.  Now  we 
 cunnot  love  God  till  we  know  He  loves  us, 
 •'  We  love  Him,  because  He  first  loved  us." 
 And  w^e  cannot  know  His  pardoning  love 
 to  us,  till  His  Spirit  witnesses  it  to  our 
 spirit.  Since,  therefore,  this  testimony  of 
 Jiis  Spirit  must  precede  the  love  of  God 
 and  all  holiness,  of  consequence  it  must 
 precede  our  invard  consciousness  thereof, 
 or  the  testimony  of  our  spirii  concerning 
 thera. 
 
 Then,  and  not  till  then,  when  the  Spirit 
 of  God  beareth  that  witness  to  our  spirit, 
 "  God  hath  loved  thee,  and  given  His  own 
 Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for  thy  sins; 
 the  Son  of  God  hatli  loved  thee,  and  hath 
 washed  thee  white  from  all  thy  sins  in  His 
 blood."  "  We  love  God,  because  He  first 
 loved  us,"  and  for  His  sake  we  love  our 
 hrotlier  also.  And  of  this  we  cannot  but 
 be  conscious  to  ourselves  :  we  "  know  the 
 things  that  are  freely  given  to  us  of  God." 
 We  know  that  we  love  God  and  keep  His 
 commandments.  And  "  hereby  also  we 
 know  that  we  are  of  God."  This  is  that 
 testimony  of  our  own  spirit,  which,  so 
 long  as  we  continue  to  love  God  and  keep 
 His  commandments,  continues  joined  with 
 the  testimony  of  God's  Spirit,  "  that  we 
 are  the  children  of  God." 
 
 Not  that  1  would,  by  any  means,  be 
 understood,  by  anything  which  has  been 
 spoken  concerning  it,  to  exclude  the  ope- 
 ration of  the  Spirit  of  God,  even  from  the 
 "testimony  of  our  own  spirit."  In  no 
 wise.  It  is  He  that  not  only  worketh  in 
 us  every  manner  of  thing  that  is  good,  bub 
 also  shines  upon  His  own  work,  and  clearly 
 shows  what  He  has  wrought.  Accordingly, 
 this  is  spoken  of  by  St.  Paul,  as  one  great 
 ciid  of  our  receiving  the  S])irit,  "  that  we 
 may  know  the  things  which  are  freely  given 
 to  us  of  God;"  that  He  may  strengthen 
 the  testimony  of  our  conscience,  touching 
 our   simplicity   and  godly   sincerity,   and 
 
 give  us  to  discern,  in  a  fuller  and  stronger 
 light,  that  we  now  do  the  things  whlcii 
 please  Him.  J.  Wesley. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  THE  SPIRIT— Satisfactory. 
 I  could  not  feel  satisfied  that  my  sins 
 were  forgiven  from  the  simple  testimony 
 of  an  angel  to  my  outward  ears,  because  it 
 were  possible  that  that  angel  may  be  Satan 
 himself,  changed  into  an  angel  of  light  on 
 purpose  to  deceive ;  or  if  a  true  angel  from 
 heaven,  his  knowledge  would  not  be  in- 
 fallible, or  if  his  knowledge  were  infallible, 
 there  were  a  possibility  of  my  misappre- 
 hending his  testimony.  I  could  not  rely 
 with  confidence  upon  the  evidence  of  a 
 dream,  for  what  is  more  shadowy  than 
 dreams;  or  upon  tlie  testimony  of  priest 
 or  minister,  for  his  knowledge  is  limited 
 and  his  motives  open  to  scrutiny;  or  upon 
 any  good  actions  of  life,  for  some  excellent 
 moral  flowers  have  grown  in  the  unrenewed 
 soil  of  human  nature ;  or  upon  the  deduc- 
 tions of  reason,  for  what  cannot  be  proved 
 by  certain  metiiods  of  logic  ?  But  when 
 the  Spirit  of  God  Himself  comes  and  applies 
 His  testimony  to  my  inner  hearing,  to  my 
 consciousness,  how  can  I  doubt  ?  I  have 
 almighty,  infallible,  eternal,  holy  truth  on 
 which  to  rest.  "  The  Spirit  searcheth  all 
 things,  even  the  deep  things  of  God." 
 When  God  blotteth  out  transgression.  He 
 sees  the  act  performed ;  when  God  speak- 
 eth  forgiveness  to  the  penitent.  He  hears 
 the  voice  which  speaks ;  when  the  Divine 
 hand  writes  his  name  in  heaven  in  the 
 book  of  life,  He  sees  the  record;  and  this 
 Spirit  is  given  with  the  express  design  to 
 make  known  unto  him  these  things  "  freely 
 given  to  him  of  God ;"  which  things  he 
 never  could  have  known,  but  by  this  Spirit 
 who  "searcheth  all  things."  Hence  arises 
 the  certainty  and  infallibility  of  His  testi- 
 mony, and  consequently  the  satisfaction 
 flowing  to  the  believer's  heart. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 WITNESS  OF  OUR  OWN  SPIRIT— Defi- 
 nition of  the. 
 The  witness  of  our  own  spirit,  or  that 
 rational  inference  which,  proceeding  from  ;> 
 careful  examination  of  the  scriptural  marks 
 of  the  children  of  God,  and  a  satisfiictory 
 persuasion  that  these  marks  are  produced 
 in  us  by  the  presence  and  agency  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit,  confirms  us  in  the  grateful 
 conclusion  that  we  are  the  children  ol 
 God.  Br.  Hannah. 
 
 WOMAN— Beauty  of. 
 
 Woman  may  be  said  almost  to  enjoy  the 
 monopoly  of  personal  beauty.  A  good- 
 humoured  writer  thus  defines  her  position 
 j  in  this  respect  as  contrasted  with  the  oppo- 
 site sex  : — "  If  you,  ladies,  are  much  hand- 
 somer than  we,  it  is  but  just  you  should 
 
WOMAN. 
 
 aclcnowledge  that  we  liave  helped  you,  by 
 voluntarily  making  ourselves  ugly.  Your 
 superiority  in  beauty  is  made  up  of  two 
 things ;  first,  the  care  which  you  take  to 
 increase  your  charms;  secondly,  the  zeal 
 ■which  we  have  shown  to  heighten  them 
 by  the  contrast  of  our  finished  ugliness — 
 the  shadow  which  we  supply  to  your  sun- 
 shine. Your  long,  pliant,  wavy  tresses,  are 
 all  the  more  beautiful  because  we  cut  our 
 hair  short ;  your  hands  are  all  the  whiter, 
 smaller,  and  more  delicate,  because  we 
 reserve  to  ourselves  those  toils  and  exer- 
 cises which  make  the  hands  large  and  hard. 
 We  have  devoted  entirely  to  your  use 
 flowers,  feathers,  ribbons,  jewellery,  silks, 
 gold  and  silver  embroidery.  Still  more  to 
 increase  the  difterence  between  the  sexes, 
 which  is  your  share,  we  have  divided  with 
 you  the  hues  of  nature.  To  you  we  have 
 given  the  colours  that  are  rich  and  splendid, 
 or  soft  and  harmonious  ;  for  ourselves  we 
 have  kept  those  that  are  dark  and  dead. 
 We  have  given  you  sun  and  light ;  we 
 have  kept  night  and  darkness."       Doran. 
 
 WOriAIf— a  Blessing. 
 
 Ye  are  stars  of  the  night,  ye  are  gems  of 
 
 the  morn, 
 Ye  are  dew-drops,  whose  lustre  illumines 
 
 the  thorn. 
 And  rayless  that  night  is,  that  morning 
 
 unblest. 
 Where  no  beam  in  your  eye  lights  up  peace 
 
 in  the  breast ; 
 And  the  sharp  thorn  of  sorrow  sinks  deep 
 
 in  the  heart. 
 Till  the  sweet  lip  of  woman  assuages  the 
 
 smart ; 
 'Tis  hers  o'er  the  couch  of  misfortune  to 
 
 bend. 
 In  fondness  a  lover,  in  firmness  a  friend; 
 And  prosperity's  hour,  be  it  ever  confess'd, 
 From    woman   receives    both     refinement 
 
 and  zest ; 
 And  adorn'd  by  the  bay,  or  enwreath'd 
 
 with  the  willow. 
 Her  smile  is  our  meed,  and  her  bosom  our 
 
 pillow.  Moore. 
 
 T70MAN— without  Devotion. 
 
 A  woman  without  devotion,  were  she 
 composed  as  a  Pandora,  and  had  she  all 
 the  beauties  which  the  heart  can  desire, 
 and  the  imagination  feign,  is  a  bee  with- 
 out a  sting,  which  will  make  neither  honey 
 nor,  wax,  is  a  savage  beast  that  nature  hath 
 lodged  in  a  painted  house,  is  a  case  covered 
 with  precious  stones,  to  preserve  a  dung- 
 hill. iY.  Caussin. 
 
 WOMAN— Excellence  in. 
 
 For  nothing  lovelier  can  he  found 
 
 In  woman,  than  to  study  household  good. 
 
 And  good  works  In  her  husband  to  promote. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 WOMAN— Eye  of. 
 
 A  lamp  is  lit  in  woman's  eye 
 
 That  souls  else  lost   on   earth    remember 
 
 angels  by.  N.  P.  JFilUs. 
 
 WOMAN— First  and  last. 
 
 The  very  first 
 Of  human  life  must  spring  from  woman's 
 
 breast ; 
 Your  first  small  words  are  taught  you  from 
 
 her  lips; 
 Your  first  tears  quench'd  by  hei',  and  your 
 
 last  sighs 
 Too    often    breathed    out    in   a    woman's 
 
 hearing, 
 When  men  have  shrunk  from  the  ignoble 
 
 care 
 Of  watching  the  last  hour  of  him  who  led 
 
 them.  Jjord  Byron. 
 
 WOMAN— the  First  Tempter. 
 
 Woman  was  the  first  sinner ;  and,  behold 
 in  the  two  greatest  falls,  and  most  imme- 
 diate denials  of  God,  Adam's  and  Peter's, 
 woman  is  made  the  first  tempter. 
 
 Bp.  Rei/nolds. 
 
 I  never  read  of  more  dangerous  falls  in 
 the  saints,  than  were  Adam's,  Lot's,  Sam- 
 son's, David's,  Solomon's,  and  Peter's ; 
 and  behold  in  all  these,  either  the  first 
 enticers,  or  the  first  occasioners,  are  women. 
 Bp.  Reij)wlds. 
 
 WOMAN— Ill-temper  in. 
 
 Fie,  fie !    unknit  that  threat'ning  unkind 
 brow;  [eyes, 
 
 And  dart  not  scornful  glances  from  those 
 
 To    wound   thy    lord,  thy    king,  thy   go- 
 vernor; [meads; 
 
 It    blots    thy    beauty,  as  frosts    bite    the 
 
 Conf  )unds  thy  fame,  as  whirlwinds  shake 
 fair  buds  ; 
 
 And  in  no  sense  is  meet,  or  amiable. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 WOMAN— Influence  of. 
 
 The  bleakest  rock  upon  the  loneliest  heath 
 
 Feels    in    its    barrenness    some    touch    of 
 
 spring. 
 And  in  the  April  dew,  or  beam  of  May, 
 Its  moss  and  lichens  freshen  and  revive — 
 And  thus  the  heart  most  neared  to  human 
 
 pleasure. 
 Melts   at   the  tear,  joys  at  the  smile  of 
 
 woman.  Sir  J.  Beaumont. 
 
 WOMAN— Loveliness  of. 
 
 0,  what  makes  woman  lovely  ?     Virtue, 
 
 faith. 
 And  gentleness  in  sufi'ering ;  an  endurance 
 Through  scorn  and  trial ;  these  call  beauty 
 
 forth. 
 Give  it  the  stamp  celestial,  and  admit  it 
 To  sisterhood  with  angels.  Brent. 
 
WOMAN— WOMEN. 
 
 WOMAN— Power  of  a  Holy. 
 
 Great  is  the  power  of  a  woman  when 
 she  applies  herself  to  virtue;  behold  at  one 
 instant  (Matt,  xv)  how  one  of  that  sex  as- 
 sails God  and  the  devil,  prevailing  with  the 
 one  by  submission,  and  conquering  the 
 other  by  command.  And  He  which  gave 
 the  wild  sea  arms  to  contain  all  the  world, 
 finds  His  own  arms  tied  by  the  chains  of  a 
 prayer,  which  Himself  did  inspire.  She 
 draws  unto  her,  by  a  pious  violence,  the 
 God  of  all  strength ;  such  was  the  fervency 
 of  her  prayer,  such  the  wisdom  of  her 
 answers,  and  such  the  faith  of  her  words. 
 As  He  passed  away  without  speaking,  she 
 hath  the  boldness  to  call  Him  to  her.  To 
 be  short,  she  is  stronger  than  the  patri- 
 arch Jacob,  for  when  he  did  wrestle  with 
 the  angel,  he  returned  lame  from  the  con- 
 flict J  but  this  woman,  after  she  had  been 
 so  powerful  with  God,  returns  straight  to 
 her  house,  there  to  see  her  victories,  and 
 possess  her  conquests. 
 
 WOMAN— Recreation  of. 
 
 Kecreation  is  to  a  woman  what  the  sun 
 is  to  the  flower;  if  moderately  enjoyed,  it 
 beautifies,  it  refreshes,  and  it  improves ;  if 
 immoderately,  it  withers,  deteriorates,  and 
 destroys.  But  the  duties  of  domestic  liie, 
 <;xercised,  as  they  must  be,  in  retirement, 
 and  calling  forth  all  the  sensibilities  of 
 the  female,  are,  perhaps,  as  necessary  to 
 the  full  development  of  her  charms,  as  the 
 shades  and  shadows  are  to  the  rose ;  con- 
 firming its  beauty,  and  increasing  its  frag- 
 rance. Anon. 
 
 WOMAN— Solace  of. 
 
 As  the  vine  which  has  long  twined  its 
 graceful  foliage  about  the  oak,  and  been 
 lifted  by  it  in  sunshine,  will,  when  the 
 hardy  plant  is  rifted  by  the  thunderbolt, 
 cling  round  it  with  its  caressing  tendrils, 
 and  bind  up  its  shattered  boughs,  so  is  it 
 beautifully  ordered  by  Providence  that 
 woman,  who  is  the  mere  dependant  and 
 ornament  of  man  in  his  hajipier  hours, 
 should  be  his  stay  and  solace  when  smitten 
 with  sudden  calamity;  winding  herself 
 into  the  rugged  recesses  of  his  nature,  ten- 
 derly supporting  the  drooping  head  and 
 binding  up  the  broken  heart. 
 
 Washington  Irving. 
 
 WOMAN— Sympathy  of. 
 
 There  is  one  in  the  world  who  feels  for 
 him  who  is  sad  a  keener  pang  than  he 
 feels  for  himself;  there  is  one  to  whom 
 reflected  joy  is  better  than  that  which 
 comes  direct;  there  is  one  who  rejoices  in 
 another's  honour,  more  than  in  any  which 
 is  one's  own ;  there  is  one  on  whom 
 another's  transcendent  excellence  sheds  no 
 beam  but  that  of  delight:  there  is  one 
 
 who  hides  another's  infirmities  more  faith- 
 fully than  one's  own;  there  is  one  who 
 loses  all  sense  of  self  in  the  sentiment  of 
 kindness,  tenderness,  and  devotion  to 
 another; — that  one  is  woman. 
 
 Washington  Irving. 
 
 WOMAN— Turbulent. 
 
 A    woman     moved     is     like    a    fountain 
 
 troubled. 
 Muddy,  ill-seeming,  and  bereft  of  beauty. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 WOMAN—  Vows  of. 
 
 But  what,  alas  !  are  woman's  vows  ? 
 
 Fit  to  be  written  but  on  air. 
 
 Or  on  the  stream  that  swiftly  flows. 
 
 Cicero. 
 
 WOMEN— Character  of. 
 Women  are  soft,  mild,  pitiful,  and  flexible. 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Wherever  found,  women  are  the  same 
 kind,  civil,  obliging,  humane,  tender 
 beings,  inclined  to  be  gay  and  cheerful, 
 timorous  and  modest.  Ledyard. 
 
 WOMEN — Employees. 
 
 The  enumerators  found  in  1861,  among 
 the  women  of  England,  10  bankers,  7 
 money  lenders,  274  commercial  clerks,  25 
 commercial  travellers,  54  brokers,  38  mer- 
 chants, 29  farriers,  419  printers,  3  shep- 
 herds, 43,964  out-door  agricultural  la- 
 bourers; 13  ladies  were  doctors,  2  wei-e 
 bone-setters,  6  were  reporters  or  shoit- 
 hand-writers,  3  parish-clerks,  4  choristers, 
 4  teachers  of  elocution,  17  dentists,  2 
 knackers,  4  conjurors,  1  astronomer,  8 
 "  naturalists."  John  Bate. 
 
 WOMEN— Features  in. 
 
 'Tis  beauty,  that  doth  oft  make  Women 
 
 proud ; 
 'Tis  virtue,  that  doth   make   them   most 
 
 admired ; 
 'Tis    modesty,    that    makes    them    seem 
 
 divine.  Shakespeare. 
 
 WOMEN— Influence  of. 
 
 Good  and  bad  women  either  sweeten  or 
 poison  the  cup  of  life,  so  great  is  their 
 power  of  doing  much  good  or  much  evil. 
 In  sacred  history  we  read  that  such  was 
 the  influence  of  the  love  of  Rachel  upon 
 the  mind  of  Jacob,  that  he  served  Laban 
 fourteen  years  for  her,  and  they  seemed  to 
 him  but  as  a  few  days.  Profane  history 
 abounds  with  very  remarkable  instances 
 of  the  influence  of  love  upon  some  men. 
 When  women  know  the  power  of  their 
 sex,  and  exercise  it,  the  consequences  have 
 been  very  sui-prising ;  the  hero,  the  ma- 
 gistrate, the  philosopher,  and  the  prince, 
 think  no  more  of  their  grandeur  or  their 
 
"WOMEN. 
 
 power ;  all  restraint,  all  reserve,  are  laid 
 aside  for  a  time,  and  puerile  freedom  of 
 speech  succeeds  to  studied  harangues,  and 
 the  most  grave  and  solemn  looks  ;  the  man 
 of  business  and  of  retirement,  the  young 
 and  the  old,  drop  their  characters  before 
 women.  The  studious  man  leaves  his 
 closet,  the  merchant  his  negociations,  and 
 sometimes  the  general  quits  the  field,  and 
 the  judge  descends  from  the  bench  to  enjoy 
 the  company  of  their  favorite  females. 
 But  further  still,  notwithstanding  only  men 
 take  the  lead  and  appear  as  public  charac- 
 ters, yet  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  all 
 of  them  are  in  some  degree  influenced  by 
 women  in  what  they  do.  Since,  therefore, 
 women  have  such  power  either  directly  or 
 indirectly,  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance, 
 that  they  should  have  a  good  education, 
 and  all  possible  means  made  use  ot,  to 
 make  them  wise,  and  to  keep  them  strictly 
 virtuous.  Scruggs. 
 
 They  are  the  books,  the  arts,  the  acade- 
 mies that  show,  contain,  and  nourish  all 
 vhe  world.  Shakespeare. 
 
 Women  are  the  poetry  of  the  world  in 
 the  same  sense  as  the  stars  are  the  poetry 
 of  heaven.  Clear,  light-giving,  harmo- 
 nious, they  are  the  terrestrial  planets  that 
 rule  the  destinies  of  mankind.     Hargrave, 
 
 li'ramed  to  give  joy,  the  lovely  sex  are  seen, 
 
 Beauteous  their  form,  engaging  in  their 
 mein  ; 
 
 Silent — they  charm  the  pleased  beholder's 
 sight. 
 
 And  speaking — strike  ns  with  a  new  de- 
 light; 
 
 For  there's  that  sweetness    in    a    female 
 mind. 
 
 Which  in  a  man  we  cannot  hope  to  find. 
 
 Pomfret. 
 
 WOMEN— Learned. 
 
 In  Elizabeth's  reign  the  learned  lan- 
 guages formed  the  essential  part  of  a  lady's 
 education.  Sir  Anthony  Cooke,  the  tutor 
 of  Edward  VI,  had  his  four  daughters  so 
 carefully  instructed,  that  they  became  pro- 
 ficients in  literature  ;  but  not  the  less  cele- 
 brated as  mothers  of  families,  conducting 
 tlieir  households  with  admirable  discretion. 
 Katherine,  who  became  Lady  Killigrew, 
 wrote  Latin  hexameters  and  pentameters. 
 Mildred,  the  wife  of  Lord  Burleigh,  is 
 described  by  Roger  Ascham  as  the  best 
 Greek  scholar  among  the  young  women  of 
 England,  Lady  Jane  Grey  always  excepted. 
 Anne,  the  mother  of  Lord  Bacon,  was  dis- 
 tinguished both  as  a  linguist  and  theolo- 
 gian. She  corresponded  in  Greek  with 
 Bishop  Jewell,  and  translated  his  "Apo- 
 logise "  from  the  Latin  so  correctly,  that 
 neither  he  nor  Archbishop  Parker  could 
 
 suggest  a  single  alteration.  She  also 
 translated  a  series  of  sermons  on  fate  and 
 free  will,  from  the  Tuscan. 
 
 Joseph  Johnson. 
 
 "WOMEN— Love  of  Dress  in. 
 
 I  have  observed  among  all  nations  that 
 the  women  ornament  themselves  more 
 than  the  men.  Ledyard. 
 
 "WOMEN— Mental  Character  of. 
 
 It  is  universally  admitted  that  the  battle- 
 field is  not  the  place  for  woman  to  display 
 her  courage,  unless  it  be  when  the  storm 
 is  over,  as  a  ministering  spirit,  an  angel  of 
 mercy,  acting  the  part  of  the  good  Sama- 
 ritan, binding  up  the  wounds  of  the  fallen, 
 wiping  the  cold  sweat  from  the  brow  of  the 
 dying,  or  pouring  the  oil,  the  balm,  and 
 the  wine  of  consolation  into  the  mind  of 
 the  sufferer.  Nor  is  it  in  the  counsels  of 
 the  nation,  in  the  arena  of  stormy  debate, 
 that  we  expect  to  hear  her  voice.  That 
 woman  in  her  first  creation  was  inferior  to 
 man  in  physical  strength  is  cheerfully  ad- 
 mitted, and  in  this  sense,  perhaps,  more 
 than  in  any  other,  she  is  to  be  regarded  as 
 the  "  weaker  vessel."  But  is  she  inferior 
 in  mental  endowments  and  moral  courage, 
 in  spiritual  attainments  and  in  holy  enter- 
 prise ?  No,  indeed ;  far  from  it.  What 
 saith  the  Scripture  ?  What  saith  reason  ? 
 Eeason  would  say,  that  that  which  by 
 universal  consent  is  esteemed  the  letter 
 7irt?/' cannot  be  the  loorse ;  that  which  was 
 twice  modelled  and  fashioned  by  the  Crea- 
 tor, and,  of  course,  doublj'  refined,  cannot 
 be  inferior.  The  Holy  Book  seems  to  inti- 
 mate most  clearly  that  in  those  cases  where 
 the  trial  was  a  fair  one,  the"  weaker  vessel" 
 was  the  stronger  reasoner.  Witness  the 
 case  of  Deborah  and  Barak,  Manoah  and 
 his  wife,  Abigail  and  David,  Huldah  and 
 Joslah,  the  wise  woman  and  Joab  (2  Sam. 
 xiv,  14 ;  XX,  22).  Are  they  then  inferi<jr 
 in  literary  capabilities  and  attainments  ? 
 Never,  where  they  have  had  equal  oppor- 
 tunities with  men.  Witness  the  instances 
 of  a  Hannah  More,  a  Mrs.  Somerville,  a 
 Mrs.  Sigourney,  and  others,  whose  works 
 are  read,  if  not  with  everlasting  wondei', 
 yet  with  perpetual  delight.  Neither  are 
 they  inferior  in  spiritual  gifts.  Experience 
 shows  that  many  women  are  equally  gifted 
 and  more  acceptable  in  their  religious 
 exercises  in  social  meetings  than  their 
 brethren.  They  may  not  be  as  strong  in 
 argument,  nor  as  fierce  in  controversy, 
 but  their  improvements  are  often  far  more 
 edifying  whenever  they  pray,  or  speak  in 
 the  name  of  the  Lord.  Coles. 
 
 YEOMEN- Mission  of. 
 
 'Tis  woman's  to  nourish  affection's  tree. 
 
 And  its  fruit,  domestic  bliss  shall  be ; 
 
WOMEN— WONDER. 
 
 *Tis  hers  to  culture  with  patient  toil, 
 Each  heaveu-boru  plant  in  the  heart's  deep 
 
 soil  ; 
 And  fruits  and  flowers  her  toil  shall  greet, 
 Richest  flavours  and  odours  on  earth  that 
 
 meet. 
 
 'Tis  woman's  to  fashion  the  infant  mind, 
 To  kindle  its  thoughts,  and  its  hopes  un- 
 
 hind; 
 To  guide  its  young  wing  in  Uie  earliest 
 
 flight, 
 And  lure  it  to  worlds  of  unsullied  light; 
 To   teach   him   to   sing   in   his  gladsome 
 
 hours. 
 Of  a  Saviour's  love,  with  an  angel's  powers! 
 
 'Tis  woman's  to  hind  up  the  broken  heart, 
 And  soften  the  blending  spirit's  smart; 
 With  the  balm  that  in  Gilead's   garden 
 grows,  [tain  flows ; 
 
 With  the  stream  that  from  Calvary's  foun- 
 And  to  light  in  this  world  of  sin  and  pain. 
 The  lamp  of  love  and  of  joy  again.     Anon. 
 
 WOMEN— Heligious  Work  of. 
 
 The  supposition  that,  under  the  Gospel 
 dispensation,  women  are  prohiT)ited  from 
 exercising  their  spiritual  gifts  is  entirely 
 gratuitous,  and  is  completely  set  aside  by 
 the  plain  declarations  of  the  New  Testa- 
 ment. 
 
 The  author  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostle 
 informs  us  (Acts  i,  14),  that  all  "  the  apos- 
 tles continued  with  one  accord  in  prayer 
 and  supplication  tvith  the  toomen."  To 
 suppose  that  the  men  prayed  in  presence 
 of  the  women,  and  not  the  women  in  the 
 presence  of  the  men  seems  to  be  a  far- 
 fetched and  overstrained  interpretation  of 
 the  text.  The  same  aui.hor  says  that  Peter 
 in  explaining  the  circumstances  of  the  day 
 of  Pentecost,  refers  to  a  prophecy  in  Joel, 
 where  God,  by  the  mouth  oi"  His  prophets, 
 promises  to  pour  out  His  Spirit  upon  the 
 "daughters"  and  "  handmaids,"  as  well  as 
 upon  the  sons  ;  and  that  "  Philip,  the  Evan- 
 gelist, had  four  daughters  that  did  pro- 
 phecy ;"  and  forasmuch  as  none  of  their 
 predictions  are  recorded,  and  as  St.  Paul, 
 when  speaking  of  "prophesying"  says,  in 
 effect  at  least,  that  it  means  "  speaking  to 
 men  of  edification,  and  exhortation,  and 
 comfort "  (1  Cor.  xiv,  3),  therefore,  Philip's 
 daughters  did  speak  in  the  public  assem- 
 blies. 
 
 St.  Paul  says  also,  that  "every  woman, 
 praying  or  prophesying  with  her  head  un- 
 covered, dishonoureth  her  head,"  which 
 certainly  means,  if  it  mean  anything,  in 
 the  presence  of  men  :  for  surely  it  is  no 
 dishonour  to  a  woman  to  pray  in  secret 
 "  with  her  head  uncovered  !"  The  same 
 aiiostle  says  ex])ressly  in  another  part  of 
 his  writings,  that  "  in  Christ  Jesus  there 
 is  neither  niale  nor  female,"  that  is,  there 
 is  no  inferiority  m  the  woman,  uor  si'j.cri- 
 
 oritif  in  the  man.  (See  MacIcniffJit.) 
 "  Under  the  blessed  Spirit  of  Christianity," 
 says  Dr.  Clarke  on  this  text,  "  they  have 
 equal  rights,  equal  privileges,  and  equal 
 blessiiiffs;  and,  let  me  add,"  says  the  doc- 
 tor, "  they  are  equally  useful."  Coles. 
 
 WOMEN— Speaking  against. 
 
 Of  women  it  has  always  been  known 
 that  no  censure  wounds  so  deeply,  or  that 
 they  resent  so  long,  as  speaking  agaitist 
 their  persons  or  their  dress.    Dr.  Johnson. 
 
 WOMEN— Supremacy  of. 
 The  day-god  sitting  on  his  western  throne. 
 With  all  his  "gorgeous  (ianopy  of  clouds" — 
 The  gentle  moon,  that  weekly  disenshrouds 
 Her  beauty  when  the  solar  glare  is  gone — • 
 The  myriad  eyes  of  night — the  i)leasant 
 
 tone 
 Of  truant    rills,   when   o'er   the   pebbled 
 
 ground 
 Their  silver  voices  tremble — the  calm  sound 
 Of   rustling   leaves    in   noon-tide   forests 
 
 lone — 
 The  cheerful  song  of  birds — the  hum  of 
 
 bees — 
 The  Zephyr's  dance,  that  like  the  footing 
 
 fine 
 Of  moonlight  fays,  scarce  prints  the  glassy 
 
 seas, — 
 Are  all  enchantments  I     But  0 !  what  are 
 
 these. 
 When  music,  poetry,  and  love  combine 
 In  Woman's  voice  and  lineaments  divine. 
 D.  L.  Richardson. 
 
 WONDER. 
 
 Coleridge  says  that  "in  wonder  all  phi- 
 losophy  began,  in  wonder  it  ends,  and  ad- 
 miration fills  up  the  interspace;  but  the 
 first  wonder  is  the  oflfspring  of  ignorance, 
 and  the  last  is  the  parent  of  devotion." 
 
 There  is  great  inconsistency  in  man's 
 wonder.  He  will  sometimes  wonder  at  the 
 works  of  man  but  not  at  the  works  of  God. 
 How  often  does  an  archway  of  more  than 
 the  ordinary  span  and  beauty  excite  his 
 "  wonder ;"  while  the  arch  of  the  heavens 
 with  a  span  measureless  and  a  beauty 
 divine  is  looked  upon  with  cold  indifference. 
 A  piece  of  human  mechanism  calls  forth 
 his  "wonder,"  while  the  marvellous  struc- 
 ture of  his  own  body  is  seldom  or  ever  con- 
 templated with  interest. 
 
 Some  people  have  an  obvious  habit  of 
 wondering  at  almost  everything  they  see 
 and  hear.  The  most  common-place  tale, 
 the  veriest  small  talk,  the  things  that  are 
 palpably  plain  at  the  first  view,  excite 
 "  wonder." 
 
 False  wonder  ends  with  the  utterance 
 of  words,  but  true  wonder  incites  to  study 
 and  research  to  explain  away  the  reason  of 
 
WOaD— WORD  OF  GOD. 
 
 895 
 
 the  wonder  by  making  things  plain  to  the 
 understanding.  John  Bate. 
 
 WOSD  (The  Term)— how  Applicahle  to 
 Christ. 
 A  person  officiating  as  a  medium  of  cor- 
 respondence between  the  throne  and  its 
 functionaries  or  subjects,  might  be  styled 
 the  Word;  or  the  person  who  should  carry 
 the  commands  of  a  general  to  those  who 
 should  see  them  executed.  Such  an  one 
 might  also  lie  styled  the  Word,  as  standing 
 in  a  midposition  between  the  person  hold- 
 ing supreme  command,  and  those  set 
 under  authority.  No  transference  of 
 words  from  a  general  to  a  special  significa- 
 tion could  be  more  easy,  and  even  striking, 
 than  this.  If  then  we  assume  that  the 
 person  invested  with  mediatorial  attributes 
 and  relations,  is  called  in  several  passages 
 of  Scripture,  "  the  Word,"  or  "  the  Word 
 of  the  Lord,"  because  His  official  position 
 is  analogous  to  the  examples  just  given  or 
 to  others  which  human  experience  suggests 
 • — is  there  not  a  manifest  propriety  in  its 
 being  used  in  this  instance  ?  and  could 
 the  whole  compass  of  language  supply  us 
 with  a  second  term  in  all  respects  so 
 suitable  as  this — the  Woi'd  ? 
 
 G.  Steward. 
 
 WOED— Effect  of  one. 
 
 A  single  remark  of  the  Rev.  C.  Simeon 
 on  the  blessings  which  had  resulted  from 
 the  labours  of  Dr.  Carey,  in  India,  first 
 arrested  the  attention  of  Henry  Alartyn  to 
 the  cause  of  missions.  His  mind  began  to 
 stir  under  the  new  thought,  and  a  perusal 
 of  the  life  of  Brainard  fixed  him  in  his 
 resolution  to  give  himself  to  the  missionary 
 work  among  the  heathen.  , 
 
 Harlan  Page  once  went  through  his 
 Sabbath-school  to  get  the  spiritual  census 
 of  the  school.  Coming  to  one  of  the 
 teachers,  he  said,  "  Shall  I  put  you  down 
 as  having  hope  in  Christ  ?"  The  teacher 
 replied,  "No."  "Then,"  said  he,  very 
 tenderly,  "  I  will  put  you  down  as  having 
 no  hope."  He  closed  his  little  book,  and 
 left  him.  That  was  enough.  God  gave 
 that  young  man's  soul  no  rest  till  he  found 
 hope  through  the  Cross.  Anon. 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD— Abideth. 
 
 On  the  door  of  the  old  mosque  in  Da- 
 mascus, which  was  once  a  Christian  church, 
 but  for  twelve  centuries  has  ranked  among 
 the  holiest  of  the  Mahomedan  sanctuaries, 
 are  inscribed  these  remarkable  words : 
 "Thy  kingdom,  O  Christ,  is  an  everlasting 
 kingdom,  and  Thy  dominion  endureth 
 throughout  all  generations."  Though  the 
 name  of  Christ  has  been  regularly  blas- 
 phemed, and  the  disciples  of  Christ  regu- 
 larly cursed  for  twelve  hundred  years  within 
 it,  the   inscription   has,  nevertheless,  re- 
 
 mained unimpaired  by  time,  and  undis- 
 turbed by  man.  It  was  unknown  during 
 the  long  reign  of  Mahomedan  intolerance 
 and  oppression;  but  when  religious  liberty 
 was  partially  restored,  and  the  missionaries 
 were  enabled  to  establish  a  Chiistian 
 church  in  that  city,  it  was  again  brought 
 to  light,  encouraging  them  in  their  work 
 of  faith  and  labour  of  love.  Thus  the 
 Word  of  God — though  it  may  be  hid  in 
 the  errors  and  superstitions  of  men,  still 
 maintains  its  existencie,  and  shall  ulti- 
 mately come  forth  in  the  purity  of  light 
 and  in  the  vigour  of  youth.        John  Bate. 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD— a  Light. 
 
 When  we  bullet  with  a  baffling  tempest, 
 how  gladdening  is  the  glimmer  even  of  a 
 lamp  seen  through  the  drift,  telling  us  of 
 comfort  and  of  home!  When  we  have 
 long  been  driven  by  the  waves  and  tost,  so 
 that  hope  has  fled  and  exertion  become 
 paralysed,  how  welcome  the  haven  of  our 
 rest !  When  strangers  have  long  been  our 
 only  associates  in  a  foreign  land,  where  no 
 familiar  face  was  near  to  greet  us  with  a 
 smile,  how  pleasant  to  know 
 
 "  There  is  an  eye  will  mark 
 Our  connno;,  and  look   brighter  when  we 
 come ;" 
 
 And  how  much  more  gladdening,  that 
 wordof  God  which  irradiates  the  path  of  a 
 believer,  a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  a  pillar 
 of  fire  by  night !  In  joy  or  sorrow,  in 
 youth  or  in  age,  in  his  home,  in  his  place 
 of  toil  or  of  business,  amid  unceasing  ac- 
 tivities, or  when  the  sands  of  life  are  eb- 
 bing low,  such  a  man  has  a  directory  at 
 every  hour  of  need,  a  counsellor  in  every 
 diificulty — enough  to  crown  his  weary  life 
 with  a  portion  of  the  joy  of  God. 
 
 J^r.  Tweedie. 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD-as  Light. 
 
 1.  Light  makes  manifest :  see  the  Divine 
 works  by  it.  The  Word  of  God  is  a  re- 
 velation of  God's  mind,  and  of  His  saving 
 work  ;  discovers  love  to  a  guilty  world,  &c. 
 
 2.  Light  is  clear.  Through  its  trans- 
 parent medium  we  behold  things  distinctly 
 and  fully.  So  the  word  of  God  is  a  clear 
 medium  of  knowledge. 
 
 3.  Light  is  beautiful.  It  is  light  which 
 invests  every  external  object  in  nature 
 with  its  colour  and  hue.  So  all  the  sub- 
 jects of  God's  word  possess  a  celestial 
 beauty  and  heavenly  hue. 
 
 4.  Light  is  pure.  Water  is  easily  de- 
 filed or  poisoned.  The  air  is  liable  to  the 
 influence  of  contagion.  But  light,  fair 
 emblem  of  its  Author,  ever  retains  its  trans- 
 parent purity.  Such  is  the  purity  of  God's 
 word.  It  is  as  pure  as  the  mind  of  its 
 Author.     "  Every  word  of  God  is  pure." 
 
 5.  Light  is  universal.     God  has  diffused 
 
896 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD. 
 
 it  throughout  the  world.  It  is  sent  for 
 all,  free  for  all,  and  enjoyed  by  all  (except 
 the  blind).  Such  is  the  character  of  God's 
 word.  His  gift  to  the  whole  world.  It  is 
 designed  for  the  enlightening  of  all.  None 
 are  excluded  from  its  benefits  but  those 
 who  dwell  in  pagan  darkness,  or  wilfully 
 close  their  eyes  against  it.  Burns. 
 
 WORD  OF  GOD— Mysteries  in  the. 
 
 Nothing  can  be  more  short-sighted,  nor 
 a  greater  contradiction  of  all  the  ways 
 and  works  of  God,  than  the  idea  so  often 
 harped  upon,  that  the  Word  of  God,  or 
 Eevelation,  must  be  level  to  every  one's 
 understanding,  or  it  would  be  no  revela- 
 tion. There  is  much  in  it,  as  there  is  in 
 nature,  which  is  level  to  no  man's  under- 
 standing. Thousands  both  enjoy,  and  de- 
 rive much  benefit  from,  nature,  who  make 
 no  pretensions  to  a  philosophy  of  nature. 
 And  the  Word  of  God  is  fulfilling  very  im- 
 portant ends  in  the  spiritual  culture  of 
 multitudes,  who  have  no  suspicion  of  a 
 Divine  Philosophy  in  the  Word.  Why, 
 the  human  stomach,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
 human  soul,  wliich  is  in  every  one's  pos- 
 session, is  by  no  means  level  to  every  man's 
 comprehension.  J.  Fidsford. 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD— Power  of  the. 
 
 All  human  speculations  have  alloy  about 
 them — that  Word  is  perfect.  All  human 
 speculations  fail — that  Word  abideth.  The 
 Jew  hated  it — but  it  lived  on,  while  the 
 veil  was  torn  away  from  the  shrine  which 
 the  Shekinah  had  forsaken,  and  while  Je- 
 rusalem itself  was  destroyed.  The  Greek 
 derided  it — but  it  has  seen  his  philosophy 
 effete,  and  his  Acropolis  in  ruins.  The 
 Roman  threw  it  to  the  flames — but  it  rose 
 from  its  ashes,  and  swooped  down  upon 
 the  fallen  eagle.  The  reasoner  cast  it 
 into  the  furnace,  which  his  own  malignity 
 had  heated  "seven  times  hotter  than  its 
 wont  "  but  it  came  out  without  the  smell 
 of  fire.  The  Papist  fastened  serpents 
 around  it  to  poison  it — but  it  shook  them 
 otf  and  felt  no  harm.  The  infidel  cast  it 
 overboard  in  a  tempest  of  sophistry  and 
 sarcasm — but  it  rode  gallantly  upon  the 
 crest  of  the  proud  waters.  And  it  iH  liv- 
 ing still — yet  heard  in  the  loudest  swell- 
 ing of  the  storm — it  has  been  speaking  all 
 the  while — it  is  speaking  now.  The  world 
 gets  higher  at  its  every  tone,  and  it  shall 
 ultimately  speak  in  power,  until  it  has 
 spoken  this  dismantled  planet  up  again 
 into  the  smiling  brotherhood  of  worlds 
 which  kept  their  first  estate,  and  God, 
 welcoming  the  prodigal,  shall  look  at  it  as 
 He  did  in  the  beginning,  and  pronounce  it 
 to  be  very  good.  W.  M.  Funshon. 
 
 WOr.D  OF  GOD— Purifying. 
 
 We  must  measure  the  benefit  we  receive 
 
 from  the  word,  not  according  to  what  of 
 it  remains,  but  according  to  what  efliect  it 
 leaves  behind.  Lightning,  than  which  no- 
 thing sooner  vanishes  away,  yet  often 
 breaks  and  melts  the  hardest  and  most 
 firm  bodies  in  its  sudden  passage.  Such  is 
 the  irresistable  force  of  the  word ;  the 
 Spirit  often  darts  it  through  us,  it  seems 
 but  like  a  flash  and  gone;  and  yet  it 
 may  break  and  melt  down  our  hard  hearts 
 before  it,  when  it  leaves  no  impression  at 
 all  upon  our  memories.  I  have  heard  of 
 one  who,  returning  from  a  sermon,  highly 
 commended  it  to  some;  and,  being  de- 
 manded what  he  remembered  of  it  an- 
 swered, "Truly,  I  remember  nothing  at 
 all ;  but  only,  while  I  heard  it,  it  made  me 
 resolve  to  live  better  than  ever  I  have 
 done,  and  so,  by  God's  grace,  I  will."  To 
 the  same  purpose  I  have  somewhere  read 
 a  story  of  one  who  complained  to  an  aged 
 holy  man  that  he  v\-as  much  discouraged 
 from  reading  the  Scripture,  because  his 
 memory  was  so  slippery,  that  he  could 
 fasten  nothing  upon  it  wliich  he  read.  The 
 old  hermit  (for  so  as  I  remember  he  was 
 described)  bid  him  take  an  earthen  pitcher 
 and  fill  it  with  water;  when  he  had  done 
 it,  he  bid  him  empty  it  again,  and  wipe  it 
 clean  that  nothing  should  remain  in  it; 
 which  when  the  other  had  done,  and  won- 
 dered to  what  this  tended;  "Now,"saith 
 he,  "  though  there  be  nothing  of  the  water 
 remaining  to  it,  yet  the  pitcher  is  cleaner 
 than  it  was  before ;  so,  though  thy  memory 
 retain  nothing  of  the  word  thou  readest, 
 yet  thy  heart  is  the  cleaner  for  its  very 
 passage  through."  B^.  Hopkins. 
 
 WORD  OP  GOD— as  a  Sword. 
 
 "  The  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the 
 word  of  God."     Thus  speaks  St.  Paul. 
 
 1.  A  sword  has  a  maker;  the  Word  of 
 God  has  an  Author — the  Spirit. 
 
 2.  A  sword  has  a  form  made  after  a 
 pattern,  the  Word  of  God  has  a  style  of 
 language,  a  form  of  moral  and  religious 
 truths,  fiishioned  after  the  similitude  of 
 the  Divine  mind. 
 
 3.  A  sword  has  a  scabbard ;  so  has  the 
 Word  of  God,  which  is  the  letter,  the  type, 
 the  paper. 
 
 4.  A  sword  has  point,  edge,  brightness, 
 weight;  so  the  Word  of  God  has  point  to 
 pierce  the  heart,  edge  to  divide  asunder, 
 brightness  so  as  to  be  a  mirror,  weight  so 
 as  to  be  mighty  to  the  pulling  down  and 
 breaking  down  of  strongholds. 
 
 5.  A  sword  is  for  defence  against 
 enemies,  so  is  the  Word  of  God. 
 
 6.  A  sword  to  be  of  any  practical  use 
 must  be  used ;  so  the  Word  of  God. 
 
 7.  A  sword  in  the  hand  of  some  persons 
 may  do  iiiischief;  so  the  Word  of  Gid. 
 
 8.  A  sword  used  by  pro^.er  persons  in  a 
 
WOEDS— WORK. 
 
 897 
 
 ritrht  way,  and  at  a  right  time,  does  great 
 exploits  J  so  the  word  of  God. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 "WORDS— Bad. 
 
 Bad  words  are  as  influential  as  the  plague 
 and  the  pestilence.  They  have  wrought 
 more  evil  than  battle,  murder,  and  sudden 
 death.  They  creep  through  the  ear  into 
 the  heart,  call  up  all  its  bad  passions,  and 
 tempt  it  to  break  God's  commandments. 
 A  few  bad  words  got  into  the  ear  of  the 
 mother  of  mankind,  and  they  led  her  on 
 to  eat  the  forbidden  fruit,  and  thus  to 
 bring  death  into  the  world. 
 
 O.  Mogridge. 
 
 WORDS— Cruel. 
 
 You  may  tame  the  wild  beast ;  the  con- 
 flagration of  the  American  forest  will  cease 
 when  all  the  timber  and  the  dry  wood  is 
 consumed ;  but  you  cannot  arrest  the  pro- 
 gress of  that  cruel  word  which  yon  ut- 
 tered carelessly  yesterday  or  this  morning. 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 WORDS— Good. 
 
 Good  words  do  more  than  hard  speeches, 
 as  the  sunbeams  without  any  noise  will 
 make  the  traveller  cast  ofl"  his  cloak,  which 
 all  the  blustering  winds  could  not  do,  but 
 only  make  him  bind  it  closer  to  him. 
 
 Leighton. 
 
 WORDS— Hard. 
 
 Hard  words  are  like  hailstones  in  sum- 
 mer, beating  down  and  destroying  what 
 they  would  nourish  were  they  melted  into 
 drops.  Anon. 
 
 WORDS— Importance  of. 
 
 What  is  it  wliich  makes  men  different 
 from  all  other  living  things  we  know  of  ? 
 Is  it  not  speech — the  power  of  words  ? 
 The  beasts  may  make  each  other  under- 
 stand many  things,  but  they  have  no 
 speech.  These  glorious  things — words — 
 are  man's  right  alone,  part  of  the  image  of 
 the  Son  of  God — the  Word  of  God,  in 
 which  man  was  created.  If  men  would 
 hut  think  what  a  noble  thing  it  is  merely 
 to  be  able  to  speak  in  words,  to  think  in 
 words,  to  write  in  words  !  Without  words 
 we  should  know  no  more  of  each  others' 
 hearts  and  thoughts,  tlian  the  dog  knows 
 of  his  fellow  dog,  without  words  to  think 
 in  ;  for  if  you  will  consider,  you  always 
 tliiiik  to  yourself  in  tcords,  though  you  do 
 not  speiik  them  aloud;  and  without  them 
 all  our  thoughts  would  be  mere  blind  long- 
 ings, feelings  which  we  could  not  under- 
 stand ourselves.  Without  words  to  write 
 in  we  (iould  not  know  what  our  forefathers 
 did — we  could  not  let  our  children  after 
 us  know  what  we  do.  C.  Kingsley, 
 
 WORDS— in  Use. 
 
 Out  of  the  50,000  words  or  so  in  the 
 English  tongue  it  has  been  found  that  a 
 rustic  labourer  only  used  300.  An  ordi- 
 narily educated  man  is  supposed  to  use 
 3000  or  4000,  while  a  great  orator  reachi's 
 10,000.  The  Old  'JTestament  contains 
 5642  diftereut  words,  and  the  works  of 
 Shakespeare  about  15,000;  those  of  Milton 
 about  8000.  Prof.  Muller. 
 
 WORDS— Useless. 
 
 I  hate  anything  that  occupies  more 
 space  than  it  is  worth.  I  hate  to  see  a 
 load  of  bandboxes  go  along  the  street,  and 
 I  hate  to  see  a  parcel  of  big  words  without 
 anything  in  them.  Hazlitt. 
 
 WORDS  OF  GREAT  MEN. 
 
 Great  men's  words,  saith  one,  are  like 
 dead  men's  shoes  j  he  may  go  barefoot  tliat 
 waiteth  for  them.  J.  Trapp. 
 
 WORK— Benefit  of. 
 
 Men  who  have  half-a-dozen  irons  in  the 
 fire  are  not  the  men  to  go  crazy.  It  is  the 
 man  of  voluntai-y  or  compelled  leisure  who 
 mopes,  and  pines,  and  thinks  himself  into 
 the  madhouse  or  the  grave.  Motion  is  all 
 nature's  law.  Action  is  man's  salvation, 
 physical  and  mental.  And  yet,  nine  men 
 out  of  ten  are  wistfully  looking  forward  to 
 the  coveted  hour  when  they  shall  have 
 leisure  to  do  nothing,  or  something  only 
 if  they  feel  to  like  it,  the  very  siren  that 
 has  lured  to  death  many  a  "  successful  " 
 man.  He  only  is  truly  wise  who  lays  him- 
 self out  to  work  till  life's  latest  hour,  and 
 that  is  the  man  who  will  live  the  longest 
 and  live  to  the  most  purpose.  Anon. 
 
 WORK— Definition  of. 
 
 Work  is  individual  action  or  conduct. 
 It  comprehends  whatever  is  done  in  tlie 
 body, — speech  and  deed,  sentiment  and 
 feeling.  It  embraces  the  whole'  range  of 
 our  moral  agency.  It  implies  those  par- 
 ticular qualities  which  provoke  praise  or 
 condemnation.  Dr.  R.  IF.  HamiUun. 
 
 WORK— Excess  of. 
 
 As  in  a  piece  of  machinery,  whether  a 
 watch  in  the  pocket  or  a  locomotive  on  the 
 railway,  if  it  be  driven  beyond  the  powers 
 bestowed  upon  it  by  the  maker,  it  will 
 break  in  some  of  its  parts,  and,  for  a  time 
 at  least,  be  rendered  useless ;  so  with  man, 
 if  his  body  or  mind  be  tasked  with  work, 
 whether  in  quantity  or  quality,  beyond  its 
 capabilities,  it  will  soon  give  way  under 
 tlie  pressure,  and  require  a  respite  for  its 
 restoration.  John  Bate. 
 
 WORK— Healthiness  of. 
 
 Physical  work  proipotes  the  circulation 
 57 
 
888 
 
 "WOEK— WOEK  OF  THE  CHRIS  TIAIf. 
 
 of  tlie  Hoofi,  opens  tho  pores  of  the  skin, 
 g\ve>  tone  to  the  respiratory  organs,  helps 
 the  fiuictions  of  (li^^estion,  strengthens  the 
 muscles,  adds  suppleness  to  the  joints,  en- 
 livens the  senses,  quickens  the  nerves, 
 regulates  the  passions,  and  benevolently 
 tends  to  build  .up  the  general  constitution. 
 Mental  and  moral  work  clears  the  under- 
 standing, empowers  the  will,  keens  the  per- 
 ception, awakens  the  conscience,  informs 
 the  judgment,  enlarges  the  memory,  rec- 
 tifies the  affections.  In  one  word,  the 
 tendency  of  work  is  to  promote  and  sus- 
 tain the  mental  and  physical  organisation 
 in  an  uninterrupted  action  of  health,  until 
 by  the  fiat  of  ^nature,  or  as  the  result  of 
 accident,  or  by  the  ravages  of  disease,  it 
 shall  be  broken  up  and  dissolved  in  death. 
 Man  is  kept  in  life  by  work,  and  dies  either 
 because  he  will  not  or  because  he  cannot 
 work. 
 
 "  That  like  an  emmet  thou  must  ever  toil, 
 Is  the  sad  sentence  of  an  ancient  date — 
 And  certes,  there  is  for  it  reason  great ; 
 For  though  it  sometimes  make  thee  weep 
 
 and  wail. 
 And  curse  thy  stars,  and  early  rise  and  late. 
 Without  e'en  this  would  come  a  heavier 
 
 bale — 
 Loose   life,  unruly  passions,  and  diseases 
 
 pale."  John  Bate. 
 
 WOEK— Honorable.  • 
 
 Nor  can  I  honour  too  highly  the  faithful 
 and  industiious  hiechanic — the  man  who 
 fills  up  his  chink  in  the  great  economy  by 
 ])atiently  using  his  hammer  or  his  wheel. 
 For  he  does  something.  If  he  only  sews  a 
 welt,  or  planes  a  knot,  he  helps  to  build  up 
 the  solid  pyramid  of  this  world's  welfare. 
 While  there  are  those  who  exhibiting  but 
 little  use  while  living,  might,  if  embalmed, 
 serve  the  same  purpose  as  those  forms  of 
 ape  and  ibis  inside  the  Egyptian  caverns — 
 serve  to  illustrate  the  shapes  and  idolatries 
 of  human  conceit.  At  any  rate,  there  is 
 no  doubt  of  the  essential  nobility  of  that 
 man  who  pours  into  life  the  honest  vigour 
 of  his  toil,  over  those  who  compose  the 
 feathery  foam  of  fashion  that  sweeps  along 
 Broadway ;  who  consider  the  insignia  of 
 honour  to  consist  in  wealth  and  indolence; 
 and  who,  ignoring  the  family  history, 
 ])aint  coats  of  arms  to  cover  up  the  leather 
 aprons  of  their  grandfathers. 
 
 Dr.  Chapin. 
 
 WOEK— a  Law  of  Nature. 
 
 The  law  of  nature  is,  that  a  certain 
 quantity  of  work  is  necessary  to  produce 
 a  certain  quantity  of  good  of  any  kind 
 whatever.  If  you  want  knowledge,  you 
 must  toil  for  it ;  if  food  you  must  toil  for 
 it ;  and  if  pleasure,  you  must  toil  for  it. 
 
 Hmkin. 
 
 WOEK— the  lot  of  all. 
 Who's  born  to  sloth  ?     To  some  we  find 
 The  ])loughshare's  annual  toil  assign'd; 
 Some  at  the  sounding  anvil  glow; 
 Some  the  swift  sliding  shuttle  throw; 
 Some,  studious  of  the  wind  and  tide, 
 From  i)ole  to  pole  our  commerce  guide; 
 While  some  of  genius  more  refin'd 
 With  head  and  tongue  assist  mankind. 
 In  every  rank,  or  great  or  small, 
 'Tis  industry  supports  us  all.  Gay. 
 
 WOEK— Sphere  of. 
 
 It  is  not  probable  that  our  mission  is 
 to  beard  unfaithful  royalties,  or  to  pull 
 down  the  edifices  which  are  festooned  with 
 the  associations  of  centuries.  But  in  the 
 sphere  of  each  of  us — in  the  marts  of  com- 
 merce, in  the  looms  of  labour — while  the 
 sun  is  climbing  hotly  up  the  sky,  and  the 
 race  of  human  pursuits  and  competitions 
 is  going  vigorously  on,  there  is  work  enough 
 for  the  sincere  and  honest  workman.  The 
 sphere  for  personal  improvement  was  never 
 so  large.  To  brace  the  body  for  service  or 
 for  suffering — to  bring  it  into  subjection  to 
 the  control  of  the  master-faculty — to  ac- 
 quaint  the  mind  with  all  wisdom — to  hoard, 
 with  miser's  care,  every  fragment  of  bene- 
 ficial knowledge — to  twine  the  beautiful 
 around  the  true,  as  the  acanthus  leaf  around 
 the  Corinthian  pillar — to  quell  the  sinward 
 propensities  of  the  nature — to  evolve  the 
 soul  into  the  completeness  of  its  moral 
 manhood — to  have  the  passions  in  harness, 
 and  firmly  curb  them — "  to  bear  the  image 
 of  the  heavenly  " — to  strive  after  "  that 
 mind  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus," — 
 here  is  a  field  of  labour  wide  enough  for 
 the  most  resolute  will.        W.  M.  Punshon. 
 
 WORK— Things  Made  to. 
 
 Says  a  quaint  but  forcible  author,  there 
 is  not  a  man  or  a  thing  now  alive,  but  has 
 tools  to  work  with.  The  basest  of  created 
 animalcules,  the  spider  itself,  has  a  spinning 
 jenny  and  a  warping-mill  and  power-looms 
 within  its  head;  the  stupidest  of  oysters 
 has  a  Pepin's  digester,  with  a  limestone 
 house  to  hold  it  in.  E.  L.  Magoon. 
 
 WOEK  OF  THE  CHEISTIAN. 
 
 The  builder  builds  for  a  century;  we 
 for  eternity.  The  painter  paints  for  a 
 generation ;  we  for  ever.  The  statuary 
 cuts  out  the  marble  that  soon  perishes ; 
 let  us  try  to  cut  out  the  likeness  of  Christ, 
 to  endure  for  ever  and  ever.  A  hundred 
 thousand  men  were  employed  in  Egypt  to 
 construct  a  pyramidal  tomb  for  a  dead 
 king;  let  us  feel  that  we  are  engaged  in  a 
 far  nobler  work  in  constructing  temples 
 for  the  living  God.  In  my  humble  judg- 
 ment, the  poorest  parish-school  in  our 
 laud,  with  no  othe"-  ornament  than  the 
 
WOUK  OP  THE  LORD— WORLD. 
 
 dew-drops  of  the  morning  to  gild  it,  and 
 the  sun-beams  to  shine  upon  it,  is  a  nobler 
 spectacle  than  the  loftiest  European  ca- 
 thedral, with  its  spires  glistening  in  the 
 setting  and  rising  suns  of  a  thousand  years. 
 Dr.  Cumming. 
 
 WORK  OF  THE  LORD— Perfect. 
 
 There  is  not  a  more  necessary  and  con- 
 solatory truth  than  this — reason  allows  it, 
 revelation  affirms  it ; — "  the  work  of  the 
 Lord  is  perfect."  Whatever  He  does, 
 sustains  its  consistency,  and  answers  its 
 end.  Neither  is  there  redundance  nor 
 defect.  The  question  of  degrees,  the  scale 
 of  dimensions,  cannot  alter  the  fact ; 
 whether  the  emmet  or  the  leviathan, 
 whether  the  atom  or  the  world,  each  bears 
 a  stamp  of  entireness  and  self-sufficience. 
 The  most  cautious  inspection,  the  most 
 fertile  imagination,  can  discover  no  want, 
 can  suggest  no  improvement.  You  can 
 relieve  no  difficulty,  you  can  facilitate  no 
 process,  you  can  heighten  no  result.  The 
 system  of  the  individual  is  as  faultless  as 
 that  of  the  species,  the  economy  of  the 
 particle  as  that  of  the  universe.  The 
 grain  imbedded  on  the  shore,  the  star  set 
 among  the  constellations  of  the  sky,  in 
 their  differing  ranks  of  constituted  nature, 
 exhibit  the  same  matchless  adjustment, 
 fitness,  and  application. 
 
 Br.  E.  W.  Hamilton. 
 
 WORK  AND  REWARD. 
 
 Set  it  down  as  a  fact  to  which  there  are 
 no  exceptions,  that  we  must  labour  for  all 
 we  have,  and  that  nothing  is  worth  pos- 
 sessing or  offering  to  others  which  costs  us 
 nothing.  Gilbert  Wakefield  tells  us  that 
 lie  wrote  his  own  memoirs,  a  large  octavo, 
 in  six  or  eight  days.  It  cost  him  nothing ; 
 and,  what  is  very  natural,  is  worth  nothing. 
 You  might  yawn  scores  of  such  books  into 
 existence ;  but  who  would  be  the  wiser  or 
 better  ?  We  all  like  gold,  but  dread  the 
 digging.  The  cat  loves  the  fish,  but  will 
 not  wade  to  catch  them.  Dr.  J.  Todd. 
 
 WORK  IN  SOME  WAY. 
 
 Weep  with  them  that  weep,  if  you  cannot 
 relieve  them,  liestow  personal  service,  if 
 you  cannot  give  gold.  Teach  children,  if 
 you  be  not  competent  as  an  instructor  of 
 men.  Be  a  support  to  the  household  if 
 you  are  not  able  to  become  a  pillar  of  the 
 state.  Be  a  lamp  in  the  chamber  if  you 
 cannot  be  a  star  in  the  sky.  Gladden  the 
 circle  of  home  if  it  transcend  your  powers 
 to  illumine  the  town.  Talk  to  the  few  if 
 you  have  no  vocation  to  preach  to  the 
 crowd.  <S.  Coley. 
 
 WORKIITG  FOR  CHRIST. 
 
 The  bee-hunter  in  America  puts  a  piece 
 «f  honey-comb  into  a  box,  and  catches  a 
 
 bee.  He  then  covers  the  hox,  and  very 
 soon  the  bee  fills  himself  with  honey^ 
 Being  let  loose,  he  finds  his  way  honie> 
 and  in  a  little  time  returns,  but  not  alone. 
 He  brings  his  companions  with  him,  and 
 in  turn  they  bring  their  companions,  till 
 the  box  is  filled  with  a  full  swarm  of  bees. 
 Let  every  Christian  hearer,  and  Sunday- 
 school  scholar,  learn  a  lesson  from  this.  If 
 they,  like  the  bee,  have  tasted  the  good 
 word  to  be  sweeter  than  honey  or  the 
 honeycomb,  let  them  go  and  bring  their 
 companions  and  friends  with  them,  to  par- 
 take of  the  same  benefits,  till  all  shall  have 
 come,  and  God's  house  and  school  shall  be 
 filled  with  devout  worshippers  and  patient 
 learners.  Anon. 
 
 WORKS— without  Faith. 
 
 Works  without  faith  is  like  a  salamander 
 without  fire,  or  a  fish  without  water  ;  for 
 though  there  seems  to  be  some  symptoms 
 of  life,  yet  they  are  but  the  presages  ot 
 death.  "J.  Beaumont. 
 
 WORKS  OF  MERCY. 
 
 Ye  great  men,  spend  not  all  your  time  in 
 building  castles  in  the  air,  or  houses  on  the 
 sand  ;  but  set  your  hands  and  purses  to  the 
 building  of  the  porches  of  Bethesda.  It 
 is  a  shame  for  a  rich  Christian  to  be  like 
 a  Christmas-box,  that  receives  all,  and 
 nothing  can  be  got  out  till  it  be  broken  in 
 pieces  ;  or  like  unto  a  drowned  man's  hand, 
 that  holds  whatsoever  it  gets.  "  To  do 
 good,  and  to  distribute,  forget  not ;  for 
 with  such  sacrifices  God  is  well  pleased." 
 Bp.  Mall. 
 
 WORLD— Attachment  to  the. 
 
 A  pagan  moralist  hath  represented  the 
 folly  of  an  attachment  to  this  world,  almost 
 as  strongly  as  a  Christian  could  express  it. 
 "  Thou  art  a  passenger,"  says  he,  "  and 
 thy  ship  put  into  harljour  for  a  few  hours. 
 The  tide  and  the  wind  serve,  and  the  pilot 
 calls  to  thee  to  depart,  and  thou  art 
 amusing  thyself,  and  gathering  shells  and 
 pebbles  on  the  shore,  till  they  set  sail 
 without  thee."  So  is  every  Christian,  who 
 being  upon  his  voyage  to  a  happy  eternity, 
 delays  and  loiters,  and  thinks,  and  acts,  as 
 if  he  were  to  dwell  here  for  ever.      Jortin. 
 
 WORLD— Corrupt. 
 
 We  live  in  a  world  extremely  corrupt, 
 of  which  may  be  said,  it  is  a  monster, 
 whose  understanding  is  a  pit  of  darkness ; 
 his  reason  a  shop  of  malice  ;  his  will  a  hell, 
 where  thousands  of  passions  outrageously 
 infest  him  ;  his  eyes  are  two  conduit-jiipes 
 of  fire,  out  of  which  fly  si)ark8  of  concupis- 
 ence ;  his  tongue,  an  instrument  of  curs- 
 ing ;  his  face  a  painted  hyjjocrisy  ;  his  body 
 a  sponge  full  of  froth  ;  his  hands  harjiies' 
 talons ;  and,  to  con«lude,  bo  owns  no  iuith, 
 
900 
 
 WORLD. 
 
 but  infidelity ;  no  Lord  but  liis  passions ; 
 no  God  but  bis  belly.  -N.  Caussin. 
 
 ■WORLD— Creator  of  the. 
 
 What  an  honour  conferred  upon  this 
 world,  that  God  should  have  been  its 
 Creator,  and  that  He  should  have  left  so 
 many  expressions  of  Himself  us  its  Creator ! 
 His  footprints  are  everywhere.  His  hand- 
 marks  are  on  every  flower,  every  star,  and 
 every  living  creature ;  so  that  any  one  who 
 will,  may  see  them. 
 
 But  how  much  greater  honour  has  been 
 conferred  upon  our  world  by  having  God 
 as  an  inhabitant  in  it,  walking  upon  its 
 surface,  seeing  by  its  light,  breathing  its 
 air,  speaking  its  language,  and  dying  for 
 its  sins.  This  honour  exceeds  the  other ; 
 and  he  who  contemplates  this,  cannot  see 
 the  other  by  reason  of  the  glory  that  ex- 
 celleth.  John  Bate. 
 
 "WORLD— Danger  of  the. 
 
 As  you  love  your  souls,  beware  of  the 
 world;  it  has  slain  its  thousands  and  ten 
 thousands.  What  ruined  Lot's  wife  ?  The 
 world.  What  ruined  Achan  ?  The  world. 
 What  ruined  Hainan  ?  The  world.  What 
 ruined  Judas  ?  The  world.  What  ruined 
 Simon  Magus  ?  The  world.  Wliat  ruined 
 Demas  ?  The  world.  And  "  what  shall  it 
 profit  a  man,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
 world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  " 
 
 J.  Mason. 
 
 "WORLD— Deceitful. 
 
 The  world  with  stones  instead  of  bread 
 
 Our  hungry  souls  has  often  fed ; 
 
 It  promised  health — in  one  short  hour 
 
 Perished  the  fair  but  fragile  flower ; 
 
 It  promised  riches— in  a  day 
 
 They  made  them  wings  and  fled  away ; 
 
 It  promised  friends — all  sought  their  own. 
 
 And  left  my  widowed  heart  alone.     Anon. 
 
 "WORLD— Fear  of  the. 
 
 Do  not  fear  the  power  of  the  world. 
 When  a  blind  man  runs  against  you  in 
 the  street,  you  are  not  angry  with  bun. 
 You  say,  "  He  is  blind,  poor  man,  or  he 
 would  not  have  hurt  you."  So  you  may 
 say  of  the  world,  when  they  speak  evil  of 
 Christ,  "  They  are  blind."  McCheyne. 
 
 "WORLD- Gain  of  the. 
 
 It  is  a  bubble  and  a  fantasm,  and  hath 
 no  reality  beyond  a  present  transient  use  ; 
 a  thing  that  is  impossible  to  be  enjoyed, 
 because  its  fruits  and  usages  are  trans- 
 mitted to  us  by  parts  and  by  succession. 
 He  that  hath  all  the  world  (if  we  can  sup- 
 pose such  a  man),  cannot  have  a  dish  of 
 fresh  summer  fruits  in  the  midst  of  winter, 
 not  so  much  as  a  green  fig  ;  and  very  nmch 
 of  possessions  is  so  hid,  so  fugacious,  and  of 
 so  uncertain  purchase,  that  it  is  like  the 
 
 riches  of  the  sea  to  tne  xord  of  the  shore ; 
 all  the  fish  and  wealth  within  all  its  hollow- 
 ness  are  his,  but  he  is  never  the  better  (or 
 what  he  cannot  get ;  all  the  shell-fishes 
 that  produce  pearl,  produce  them  not  for 
 him  ;  and  the  bowels  of  the  earth  shall 
 hide  her  treasures  in  undiscovered  retire- 
 ments ;  so  tliat  it  will  signify  as  much  to 
 this  great  purchaser  to  be  entitled  to  an 
 inheritance  in  the  upper  region  of  the  air ; 
 he  is  so  far  from  possessing  all  its  riches, 
 that  he  does  not  so  much  as  know  of 
 them,  nor  understand  the  philosophy  of 
 her  minerals.  Bp.  Taylor, 
 
 "WORLD— God's  Use  of  this. 
 
 This  world,  small  as  it  is,  is  made  use  of 
 by  the  Creator  to  illustrate  principles  in 
 His  Government,  "  to  the  intent  that  now 
 unto  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly 
 places  may  be  known  by  the  Church  the 
 manifold  wisdom  of  God." 
 
 Tliat  this  world  is  the  smallest  but  two 
 in  the  planetary  system,  is  no  more  a  valid 
 objection  to  its  being  used  for  infinite  pur- 
 poses of  wisdom,  than  it  would  be  to  object 
 to  the  size  of  the  slate  on  which  La  Place 
 wrought  out  his  logarithms  for  his  '  Me- 
 canique  Celeste.'  God  is  solving  problems 
 in  this  world  with  sin ;  the  results  may 
 enter  into  the  practical  knowledge  of  un- 
 numbered worlds,  as  the  answers  to  pro- 
 blems are  transferred  to  books  of  naviga- 
 tion, and  are  the  confidence  of  them  that 
 are  afar  off"  upon  the  sea.  Our  own  Lex- 
 ington and  Bunker  Hill  were  not  too  small 
 for  transactions  which  brought  this  nation 
 into  being  ;  nor  did  one  field  in  Waterloo 
 prove  too  small  to  have  the  destiny  of  half 
 of  Europe  decided  there.  The  cross  of  a 
 Redeemer  has  stood  here ;  things  are  asso- 
 ciated with  it  which  we  are  told  "  angels 
 desire  to  look  into."  If.  Adams. 
 
 "WORLD— Good  in  this. 
 
 There  is  more  sunshine  than  rain— more 
 joy  than  gloom — more  love  than  hate — 
 more  smiles  than  tears  in  the  world.  Those 
 wlio  say  to  the  contrary  we  should  not 
 choose  for  our  friends  or  companions.  The 
 good  heart,  the  tender  feelings,  and  the 
 pleasant  disposition,  make  smiles,  love,  and 
 sunshine  everywhere.  A  word  spoken 
 pleasantly  is  a  large  spot  of  sunshine  on 
 the  heart — who  has  not  seen  its  eftects  ? 
 A  smile  is  like  the  bursting  out  of  tlie  sun 
 behind  a  cloud  to  him  who  thought  he  had 
 no  friend  in  the  wide  world.  The  tear  of 
 afl'ection,  how  brightly  it  shines  along  the 
 dark  path  of  life  !  A  thousand  gems  m:ike 
 a  milky-way  on  earth,  more  glorious  than 
 the  glorious  cluster  over  our  beads.   Anon. 
 
 "WORLD— Holding  to  the. 
 
 As  you  will  sometimes  see  a  sere  and 
 sallow  leaf  hang  upon  the  tree  all  through 
 
•WOULD. 
 
 901 
 
 whiter,  tenacious  of  its  hold,  dancing  and 
 whirling  in  the  playful  wind,  out  of  beauty, 
 out  of  grace,  out  of  season ;  so  you  some- 
 times may  see  some  worn-out,  godless  sin- 
 ners, clinging  to  this  world,  when  they 
 have  lost  all  their  use,  beauty,  and  good- 
 ness. Dr.  Chuthrie. 
 
 WOELD— the  Light  of  the. 
 
 As  God,  in  the  lieginning,  placed  the 
 sun,  moon,  and  stars  in  the  firmament  for 
 the  beauty  and  glory  of  the  same,  and  for 
 the  illumination  of  e:irth  ;  so  He  has  placed 
 Jesus,  the  Spirit,  the  Bible,  the  saints  in 
 His  church  for  its  beauty  and  glory,  and 
 for  the  enlightenment  of  the  moral  world. 
 "  I  am,"  said  Jesus,  "  the  light  of  the 
 world."-  The  Spirit  giveth  light  in  His 
 influences  upon  the  mind.  The  Bible  gives 
 light  by  its  teachings  of  holy  truth  ;  and 
 to  the  saints  Christ  has  said,  "  Ye  are  the 
 light  of  the  world."  John  Hate. 
 
 "WOELD— Love  of  the. 
 
 Crates  threw  his  gold  into  the  sea, 
 saying,  "  I  will  destroy  thee,  lest  thou 
 destroy  me."  If  men  do  not  put  the  love 
 of  the  world  to  death,  the  love  of  the 
 world  will  put  them  to  death.         Venning. 
 
 WOELD— No  Perfectioii  in  the. 
 
 Naaman  was  a  mighty  man,  but  he  was 
 a  leper.  Every  man  has  some  but  or  other 
 in  his  character,  something  that  blemishes 
 and  diminishes  him,  some  alloy  in  his  gran- 
 deur, some  damp  to  his  joy ;  he  may  be 
 very  happy,  very  good  ;  yet,  in  something 
 or  other,  not  so  good  as  he  should  be. 
 Naaman  was  as  great  as  the  world  could 
 make  him ;  and  yet,  as  Bishop  Hall  re- 
 marks, "  the  basest  slave  in  Syria  would 
 not  have  exchanged  skins  with  hiin." 
 
 M.  Henri). 
 
 "WOELD— Pleasures  of  the. 
 
 The  pleasures  of  the  world  are  not  like 
 the  waters  of  the  Nile,  which  leave,  when 
 they  are  gone,  the  germs  of  beauty  and 
 fertility,  to  bud  and  blossom  and  cheer  the 
 heart  of  man  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
 like  those  streams  polluted  by  the  wash- 
 ings of  poisonous  minerals,  depositing  the 
 seeds  of  death  and  disease  to  all  who  drink 
 them.  Anon. 
 
 WOELD— Prince  of  this. 
 
 Who  is  the  Prince  of  this  world  ?  "  The 
 Lord  is  king,"  cries  the  psalmist ;  "  let  the 
 earth  rejoice  ;  and  let  the  multitude  of  the 
 isles  be  glad  thereof."  Is  the  Lord,  then, 
 the  Prince  of  this  world  —  the  Prince  of 
 those  who  give  up  their  hearts  to  this 
 world  ?  Is  he  your  Prince,  your  King  ? 
 By  right  He  is  so,  by  a  twofold  title,  as 
 your  Creator,  and  as  your  Redeemer.  But 
 so  long  as  you  continue  the  children  of  this 
 
 world.  He  is  not,  in  point  of  fact,  your  King 
 He  is  not  the  king  whom  the  children  of 
 this  world  honour  and  obey  and  serve. 
 Their  true  king,  the  king  whom  they 
 really  honour  and  obey  and  serve,  is  .  .  , 
 whom  did  Eve  obey  and  serve,  when  she 
 was  beguiled  by  the  pleasures  of  the  senses 
 to  pluck  the  forbidden  fruit  ?  Whom  did 
 Cain  obey  and  serve,  when  he  lifted  his 
 hand  against  Abel  ?  Whom  did  the  gene- 
 ration before  the  flood  obey  and  serve, 
 when  it  repented  the  Lord  that  He  had 
 made  man  ?  Whom  did  the  children  of 
 the  plain  obey  and  serve,  when  they 
 attempted  to  build  a  tower,  the  top  of 
 which  should  reach  to  heaven  ?  Whom 
 did  Esau  obey  and  serve,  when  he  sold  his 
 birthright  ?  Whom  did  the  sons  of  Jacob 
 obey  and  serve,  when  they  cast  Joseph 
 into  the  pit  ?  Whom  did  Samson  obey 
 and  serve,  when  he  laid  his  head  in  the 
 lap  of  Delilah  ?  Whom  did  David  obey 
 and  serve,  when  he  commanded  that  Uriah 
 should  be  set  in  the  front  of  the  battle, 
 and  left  to  die  ?  Whom  did  Solomon  obey 
 and  serve,  when  his  wives  turned  away  his 
 heart  to  worship  Ashtoreth  and  Milcom  ? 
 Whom  did  Herod  obey  and  serve,  when  he 
 slew  the  children  at  iJethlehem  ?  Whom 
 did  Judas  obey  and  serve,  when  he  be- 
 trayed his  Master  ?  Whom  did  Pilate 
 obey  and  serve,  when  he  gave  up  Him  in 
 whom  he  could  find  no  fault,  to  be  cruci- 
 fied ?  They  all  obeyed  and  served  the 
 prince  of  this  world,  the  prince  who,  under 
 one  shape  or  other,  reigns  in  the  hearts  of 
 all  the  children  of  this  world,  swaying 
 some  by  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  others 
 by  the  lusts  of  the  eye,  and  others  again 
 by  the  pride  of  life.         Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 "WOELD- a  Eeflection  of  Ourselves. 
 
 This  disordered  universe  is  the  picture 
 of  your  own  mind.  We  make  a  wilderness 
 by  encouraging  artificial  wants,  by  creating 
 sensitive  and  selfish  feelings  ;  then  we  pro- 
 ject everything  stamped  with  the  impress 
 of  our  own  feelings,  and  we  gather  the 
 whole  of  creation  into  our  pained  being — ■ 
 "  The  whole  creation  groaneth  and  tra- 
 vaileth  in  pain  together  until  now."  The 
 world  you  complain  of  as  impure  and  wrong 
 is  not  God's  world,  but  your  world  ;  the 
 blight,  the  dulness,  the  blank,  are  all  your 
 own.  The  light  which  is  in  you  has  be- 
 come darkness,  and  therefore  the  light 
 itself  is  dark.  F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 "WOELD— Spirit  of  the. 
 
 The  spirit  of  the  world  is  for  ever  alter- 
 ing— impalpable  ;  for  ever  eluding,  in  fresh 
 forms,  your  attempts  to  seize  it.  In  the 
 days  of  Noah,  the  spirit  of  the  world  was 
 violence.  In  Elijah's  day  it  was  idolatry. 
 In  the  day  of  Chi-ist  it  was  power  concen- 
 trated  and  condensed  in  the  government  of 
 
902 
 
 WORLD. 
 
 Home.  In  ours,  perhaps,  it  is  the  love  of 
 money.  It  enters  in  different  proportions 
 into  different  bosoms ;  it  is  found  in  a  dif- 
 ferent form  in  contiguous  towns ;  in  the 
 fashionable  watering-place,  and  in  the  com- 
 mercial city ;  it  is  this  thing  at  Athens, 
 and  another  in  Corinth.  This  is  the  spirit 
 of  the  world — a  thing  in  my  heart  and 
 yours  ;  to  be  struggled  against,  not  so 
 much  in  the  case  of  others,  as  in  the  silent 
 battle  done  within  our  own  souls. 
 
 F.  W.  Rohertson. 
 
 WORLD— a  Stage. 
 
 The  world  is  a  great  show  which  pre- 
 sents us  various  scenes  and  fantastic 
 characters  ;  princes,  politicians,  warriors, 
 and  philosophers  ;  the  rich,  the  honorable, 
 the  learned  and  the  wise  ;  and  with  these, 
 the  servant  and  the  beggar,  the  poor,  the 
 weak,  and  the  despised.  Some  seldom 
 come  from  behind  the  scenes  j  others 
 adorned  with  honour  and  power,  are  fol- 
 lowed by  a  shouting  multitude,  and  fill  the 
 world  with  the  noises  of  their  actions. 
 But  in  a  little  time  the  scene  turns  and  all 
 these  phantoms  disappear.  The  king  of 
 terrors  clears  the  stage  of  these  busy 
 actors,  and  strips  them  of  their  fictitious 
 ornaments,  bringing  them  all  to  a  level, 
 and  sending  them  down  to  the  grave ;  all 
 the  actors  in  a  drama  return  to  their 
 private  character  when  the  action  is  over. 
 W.  Jones. 
 
 WORLD— as  a  Stage. 
 
 All  the  world's  a  stage, 
 And    all    the    men    and    women    merely 
 
 players ; 
 They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances ; 
 And  one  man  in  his  time  plajs  many  parts, 
 His  acts  being  seven  ages.     At  first,  the 
 
 infant, 
 Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms ; 
 And  then,  the  whining  school-boy,  with  his 
 
 satchel. 
 And  shining  morning  face,  and  creeping 
 
 like  a  snail 
 Unwillingly    to    school ;    and,    then,    the 
 
 lover. 
 Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woful  ballad 
 Made  to  his  mistress'  eye-brow  :  then  a 
 
 soldier. 
 Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the 
 
 pard. 
 Jealous  in  honour,  sudden  and  quick  in 
 
 quarrel. 
 Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 
 Even  in  the  cannon's  mouth :  and  then, 
 
 the  justice. 
 In  fair  round  belly  with  good  capon  lined. 
 With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut. 
 Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances  j 
 And  so  he  plays  his  part :   the  sixth  age 
 
 shifts 
 Into  the  lean  and  slipp'rcd  pantaloon. 
 
 With   spectacles  on   nose  and  pouch  on 
 
 side  ; 
 His  youthful  hose,  well  saved,  a  world  too 
 
 wide 
 For  his  shrunk  shank  ;  and  his  big  manly 
 
 voice. 
 Turning  again  toward  childish  treble,  pipes 
 And  whistles  in  his  sound;  last  scene  of 
 
 all, 
 That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history. 
 Is  second  childishness,  and  mere  oblivion : 
 Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every- 
 thing. Shakespeare. 
 
 WORLD— Things  of  the. 
 
 The  things  of  this  world,  like  Absalom's 
 mule,  run  away  and  leave  us  when  we  have 
 most  need  of  them.  Venning. 
 
 WORLD— Vanity  of  the. 
 
 What  can  all  the  world  minister  to  a 
 sick  person,  if  it  represents  all  the  spoils 
 of  nature,  and  the  choicest  delicacies  of 
 land  and  sea  ?  Alas,  his  appetite  is  lost, 
 and  to  see  a  pebble  stone  is  more  pleasing 
 to  him  ;  for  he  can  look  upon  that  without 
 loathing,  but  not  so  upon  the  most  de- 
 licious fare  that  ever  made  famous  the 
 Roman  luxury.  Perfumes  make  his  head 
 ache ;  if  you  load  him  with  jewels,  you 
 press  him  with  a  burden  as  troublesome  as 
 his  grave-stone ;  and  what  pleasure  is  in 
 all  those  possessions  that  cannot  make  his 
 pillow  easy,  nor  tame  the  rebellion  of  a 
 tumultuous  humour,  nor  restore  the  use  of 
 a  withered  hand,  or  staighten  a  crooked 
 finger  ?  Vain  is  the  hope  of  that  man, 
 whose  soul  rests  upon  vanity  and  such  un- 
 profitable possessions.  Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 The  greatest  vanity  of  this  world  is  re- 
 markable in  this,  that  all  its  joys  summed 
 up  together  are  not  big  enough  to  coun- 
 terpoise the  evil  of  one  sharp  disease,  or  to 
 allay  a  sorrow.  For  imagine  a  man  great 
 in  his  dominion  as  Cyrus,  rich  as  Solomon, 
 victorious  as  David,  beloved  like  Titus, 
 learned  as  Trismegist,  powerful  as  all  the 
 Roman  greatness ;  all  this,  and  the  results 
 of  all  this,  give  him  no  more  pleasure,  in 
 the  midst  of  a  fever  or  the  tortures  of  the 
 stone,  than  if  he  were  only  lord  of  a  little 
 dish,  and  a  dishful  of  fountain  water. 
 
 Bp.  Taylor. 
 
 WORLD — as  a  Wilderness. 
 
 1.  A  wilderness  is  commonly  a  waste, 
 wild,  and  barren  place,  some  of  which  are 
 of  a  vast  bigness ;  this  world  is  of  a  vast 
 bigness,  and  very  barren  of  grace  and  holi- 
 ness. 
 
 2.  A  wilderness  abounds  with  briars 
 and  thorns  ;  so  doth  this  world  with  wicked 
 and  ungodly  men,  who  are  compared  to 
 thorns  and  briers. 
 
 3.  In  a  wilderness  are  many  wild  and 
 
WORLD  AND  THE  CHUUCH— WORLDLING. 
 
 903 
 
 devouring  Leasts;   so  this  world  abounds 
 with  cruel  and  unmerciful  men. 
 
 4.  In  a  wilderness  a  traveller  may  very 
 soon  lose  his  way;  so  the  Christian  will  if 
 he  is  not  watchful  wander  from  the  ways 
 of  righteousness. 
 
 5.  In  a  wilderness  commonly  grow 
 trees  of  divers  sorts,  some  good  and  some 
 evil ;  so  in  this  world  there  are  sinners  and 
 saints. 
 
 6.  In  a  howling  wilderness  a  wall  of 
 fire  is  necessary  to  preserve  from  wild  and 
 ravenous  beasts ;  God  on  this  account  is 
 said  to  be  a  wall  of  fire  to  His  people  in 
 this  world. 
 
 7.  In  a  wilderness  thei'e  is  no  tilling 
 or  sowing  or  reaping ;  so  in  this  world 
 there  grows  little  or  nothing,  but  what  the 
 carnal  and  natural  hearts  of  sinners  bring 
 forth. 
 
 8.  A  wilderness  is  a  solitary  and  desolate 
 place  ;  so  is  this  world  to  a  godly  man. 
 
 Keach. 
 
 WORLD  AND  THE  CHURCH. 
 
 Balak,  the  king  of  the  Moabites,  hated 
 the  camp  of  Israel,  and  bribed  Balaam,  a 
 prophet,  to  curse  them.  Just  thus  doth 
 the  world  hate  the  Church,  and  is  never 
 happier  than  when  it  can  hire  the  minis- 
 ters of  the  Church  to  turn  against  it  and 
 betray  its  interests.  But  it  can  no  more 
 succeed  by  its  curses  than  the  wicked 
 Balak  could ;  it  must  seduce  Christians  to 
 sin,  and  then  it  prevails ;  not  by  its  own 
 power,  but  by  tempting  the  Church  to 
 provoke  the  anger  of  God.  When  Balaam 
 found  that  he  could  prevail  nothing  by  his 
 sacrifices  and  enchantments,  then  he  gave 
 counsel  to  Balak  to  corrupt  the  people  of 
 the  camp  with  fornication ;  and  that  soon 
 answered  the  purpose.  W.  Jones. 
 
 WORLD  LINESS— Definition  of. 
 
 Now  to  define  what  worldliness  is.  Re- 
 mark that  it  is  determined  by  the  spirit  of 
 a  life,  not  the  objects  with  which  the  life  is 
 conversant.  It  is  not  the  "  flesh,"  nor  the 
 "  eye,"  nor  "  life,"  whvcii  are  forbidden 
 but  it  is  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  last 
 of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life.  It  is  not 
 this  earth  nor  the  men  who  inhabit  it, 
 ror  the  sphere  of  our  legitimate  activity, 
 that  we  may  not  love  ;  but  the  way  in  which 
 the  love  is  given  which  constitutes  worldli- 
 ness. F.  W.  Eohertson. 
 
 WORLDLINESS— Description  of. 
 
 Worldliness  is  the  attractive  power  of 
 something  present  in  opposition  to  some- 
 thing to  come.  It  is  this  rule  and  tyranny 
 of  the  present,  that  constitutes  Demas  a 
 worldly  man. 
 
 In  this  respect  worldliness  is  the  spirit 
 of  childhood  carried  on  into  manhood. 
 The  child  lives  in  the   present  hour — to- 
 
 day to  him  is  everything.  The  holiday 
 promised  at  a  distant  interval  is  no  holiday 
 at  all — it  must  be  either  now  or  never. 
 Natural  in  the  child,  and  therefore  pardon- 
 able, this  spirit  when  carried  on  into 
 manhood,  of  course — is  worldliness.  The 
 most  distinct  illustration  given  us  of  this 
 is  the  case  of  Esau.  Esau  came  from  the 
 hunting-field  worn  and  hungry ;  tlie  only 
 means  of  procuring  the  tempting  mess  of 
 his  brother's  pottage  was  the  sacrifice  of 
 his  father's  blessing,  which  in  those  ages 
 carried  with  it  a  substantial  advantage ; 
 but  that  birthright  could  be  enjoyed  only 
 after  years — the  pottage  was  present,  near 
 and  certain;  therefore  he  sacrificed  a 
 future  and  higher  blessing,  for  a  jjvesenfc 
 and  lower  pleasure.  For  this  reason  Esau 
 is  tlie  Bible  type  of  worldliness;  he  is 
 called  in  Scripture  a  profane,  that  is,  not 
 distinctly  a  vicious,  but  a  secular  or 
 worldly  person — an  overgrown  child  ;  im- 
 petuous, inconsistent;  not  without  gleams 
 of  generosity  and  kindliness,  but  over- 
 accustomed  to  immediate  gratification. 
 
 F.  W.  Robertson. 
 
 WORLDLINESS— Stream  of. 
 
 As  a  river  leads  a  man  through  sweet 
 meadows,  green  woods,  fertile  pastures, 
 fruit-laden  fields,  by  glorious  buildings, 
 strong  forts,  famous  cities,  yet  at  least 
 brings  him  to  the  salt  sea;  so  the  stream 
 of  this  world  carries  along  through  rich 
 commodities,  voluptuous  delights,  stately 
 dignities,  all  possible  content  to  flesh  and 
 blood,  but  after  all  this  brings  a  man  to 
 death,  after  death  to  judgment,  aftir 
 judgment  to  hell.  T.  Adams. 
 
 WORLDLING— Belief  of  the. 
 
 He  believes  that  the  fleeting  pleasures  of 
 the  flesh  are  more  substantial  and  precious 
 than  the  enduring  joys  of  the  Spirit — 
 that  the  fitful  admiration  and  favour  of 
 feeble  man  are  more  to  be  desired  than  the 
 grace  and  love  of  Almighty  God ;  that  earth 
 is  truer  and  more  real  than  heaven  ;  that 
 a  life  of  a  few  years  is  longer  and  of  more 
 importance  than  a  life  through  eternity; 
 that  the  scarred  and  bloated  carcase  of  sin, 
 with  its  death's  head,  and  its  stinging 
 snakes  coiling  restlessly  around  it,  is  love- 
 lier and  more  to  be  desired  than  the  pure 
 and  radiant  beauty  of  Holiness. 
 
 Archdeacon  Hare. 
 
 WORLDLING— Choice  of  the. 
 
 Man  would  sit  down  at  this  world ;  God 
 bids  him  sell  it  and  purchase  a  better.  Just 
 as  a  father,  who  hath  in  his  hand  an  ajiple, 
 and  a  piece  of  gold  under  it :  the  child 
 comes,  and  with  pulling  gets  the  apple  out 
 of  his  father's  hand;  his  father  bids  him 
 throw  it  away  and  he  will  give  him  the 
 gold  for  it;    which    the  child  utterly  re- 
 
904 
 
 WORLDLING— T^ORLDLT  CARES. 
 
 filling',  eats  it  and  is  troubled  with  worms. 
 So  is  the  Crtrnal  and  wilful  man  with  the 
 Avonn  of  the  grave  in  this  world,  and  the 
 worm  of  conscience  in  the  next. 
 
 George  Serhert. 
 
 "WORLDLING— Covetous. 
 
 It  is  said  that  among  the  recent  disco- 
 veries at  Pompeii  was  a  woman  in  the  act 
 of  gathering  in  her  apron,  rings,  bracelets, 
 and  other  valuable  articles  of  jewellery. 
 It  would  seem  that  some  wealthy  persons, 
 aware  of  the  coming  destruction,  had  made 
 their  escape,  and  left  these  things  behind 
 as  worthless  in  comparison  with  life ;  but 
 she,  hoping  to  save  both,  delayed  the  time 
 of  her  tliglit,  and,  alas  !  was  overwhelmed 
 in  the  terrific  judgment,  and  so  lost  her  life 
 and  hei  jewels.  How  forcibly  may  this 
 remind  us  of  covetous  worldlings,  who, 
 while  God's  people  in  the  last  day  shall 
 make  haste,  like  Lot,  to  escape  to  the 
 mountain  of  the  Lord,  they  shall  be  seeking 
 and  toiling  to  accumulate  the  perishable 
 things  of  earth,  when  the  conflagration  of 
 the  world  shall  break  upon  them,  and  they 
 hud  their  possessions  shall  be  consumed 
 together.  John  Bate. 
 
 WORLDLING— Envying  the  Rich. 
 
 How  apt  many  are  at  the  sight  of  a  rich 
 worldling,  to  envy  him  for  what  he  hath ; 
 Out  for  my  part,  I  rather  pity  him  for 
 what  he  wants;  he  hath  a  talent,  but  it 
 wants  improvement ;  he  hath  a  lamp,  but 
 it  wants  oil;  he  hath  a  soul,  but  it  wants 
 grace ;  he  bath  a  star,  but  it  wants  the 
 sun ;  he  hath  the  creature,  but  wants  the 
 Creator.  In  his  life  he  doth  float  upon  a 
 torrent  of  vanity,  which  empties  itself  into 
 an  ocean  of  vexation;  and  after  death 
 then  take  this  unprofitable  servant,  bind 
 him  hand  and  foot,  and  cast  him  into  outer 
 darkness  ;  go  set  his  soul  adrift  for  ever  in 
 an  impetuous  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone. 
 Where  now  is  the  object  of  your  envy  ? 
 It  is  not  his  silver  that  will  now  anchor 
 him,  nor  his  gold  that  shall  land  him,  nor 
 his  friends  that  can  comfort  him  ;  there- 
 fore if  he  be  worth  the  envying,  who  is 
 worth  the  pitying  ?  If  this  be  felicity, 
 then  give  me  misery.  Lord  !  rather  make 
 me  poor  with  a  good  heart,  than  rich  with 
 a  bad  conscience.  Anon. 
 
 f  ORLDLINGS— Misery  of  Rich. 
 
 We  see  the  most  rich  wordlings  live  the 
 most  miserably,  slaved  to  that  wealtli 
 whereof  they  keep  the  key  under  their 
 girdles.  JSstiriunt  in  popina,  as  we  say, 
 — they  starve  in  a  cook's  shop.  A  man 
 would  think,  that  if  wealth  could  do  any 
 good,  it  could  surely  do  this  good,  keep 
 the  owner  from  want,  hunger,  sorrow,  care. 
 No,  even  these  evils  riches  do  not  avoid, 
 but  ratlier  force  on   him.      Whereof  is  a 
 
 man  covetous  but  of  riches  ?  When  these 
 riches  come,  you  think  he  is  cured  of  his 
 covetousness ;  no,  he  is  more  covetous  > 
 though  the  desires  of  his  mind  be  granted, 
 yet  this  precludes  not  the  access  of  new 
 desires  to  the  mind.  So  a  man  might 
 strive  to  extinguish  the  lamp  by  putting 
 oil  into  it,  but  this  makes  it  burn  more. 
 And  as  it  is  with  some,  that  thirstily  drink 
 harsh  and  ill-brewed  drinks,  have  not  their 
 heat  allayed,  but  inflamed ;  so  this  world- 
 ling's hot  eagerness  of  riches  is  not  cooled, 
 but  fired  by  his  abundance.         T.  Adams. 
 
 WORLDLINGS— Two. 
 
 Lo  !  here  spread  out  the  plains  of  heavenly 
 
 light. 
 And  narrow   way,  that  ends  where  all  is 
 
 bright. 
 Behold,   with  globes  upon  the  hghtsome 
 
 green. 
 To  dili'erent  work  address'd,  two  men  are 
 
 seen. 
 With  careless  ease  one  rolls  his  globe  along, 
 And  follows  after  full  of  mirth  and  song ; 
 The  other  strives  to  move  his  world's  vast 
 
 weight, 
 Up-hill,  toward  the  brightly  shining  gate ; 
 He  strives  in  vain ;  the  globe,  though  in 
 
 the  track. 
 Still  downward  tending,  drives  him  farther 
 
 back. 
 And  though  they  seem  contrary  roads  to  go, 
 They  meet  together  in  the  vale  below. 
 Thus  some  pursue  an  open  course  of  sin  ; 
 Some  Christ  profess,   yet  hold  the  world 
 
 within. 
 Though  these   appear  to  play  a  different 
 
 game. 
 Their  fate  is  equal,  and  their  end  the  same. 
 W.  Holmes. 
 
 WORLDLY  CARES— Immersed  in. 
 
 We  keep  ourselves  in  such  a  continual 
 hurry  and  crowd  of  cares,  thoughts,  and 
 employments  about  the  things  of  the  body, 
 that  we  can  find  little  time  to  be  alone, 
 communing  with  our  own  hearts  about  our 
 great  concernments  in  etei-nity.  It  is  with 
 many  of  us  as  it  was  with  Archimedes,  who 
 was  so  intent  upon  drawing  his  mathe- 
 matical schemes,  that  though  all  the  city 
 was  in  alarm,  the  enemy  had  taken  it  by 
 storm,  the  streets  filled  with  dead  bodies, 
 the  soldiers  come  into  his  particular  house, 
 nay,  entered  his  very  study,  and  plucked- 
 him  by  the  sleeve,  before  he  took  any 
 notice  of  it.  Even  so,  many  men's  hearts 
 are  so  profoundly  immersed  and  drowned 
 in  earthly  cares,  thoughts,  projects,  or 
 pleasures,  that  death  must  come  to  their 
 very  houses,  yea,  and  pull  them  by  the 
 sleeve,  and  tell  them  its  errand,  before 
 they  will  begin  to  awake,  and  come  to  a 
 serious  consideratiou  of  things  more  im. 
 portant.  Flavel, 
 
WORLDLY  COMPANY— WORLDLY  PLEASURES. 
 
 905 
 
 WORLDLY  COMPANY-Christian  in. 
 
 It  is  not  for  him  to  lend  the  sanction 
 of  his  presence  to  a  meeting  with  which 
 he  could  not  sit  till  its  final  termination. 
 It  is  not  for  him  to  stand  associated,  for  a 
 single  hour,  with  an  assembly  of  men  who 
 begin  with  hypocrisy,  and  end  with  down- 
 right blackguardism.  It  is  not  for  him  to 
 watch  the  progress  of  coming  ribaldry,  and 
 to  hit  the  well-selected  moment,  when  talk 
 and  turbulence  and  boisterous  merriment 
 are  on  the  eve  of  bursting  forth  upon  the 
 company,  and  carrying  them  forward  to 
 the  full  acme  and  uproar  of  enjoyment.  It 
 is  in  vain  to  say  he  has  sanctioned  only  a 
 part  of  such  an  entertainment ;  he  has  ns 
 good  as  given  his  connivance  to  the  whole 
 of  it ;  and  left  behind  him  a  discharge  in 
 full  of  all  its  abominations,  and,  therefore, 
 be  they  who  they  may,  it  is  his  part  to 
 keep  as  purely  and  indignantly  aloof  from 
 such  society  as  this,  as  he  would  from  the 
 vilest  and  most  debasing  associations  of 
 profligacy.  Dr.  Chalmers. 
 
 WORLDLY  GLORY— Shadowy. 
 
 Worldly  glory  is  but  a  breath,  a  vapour, 
 a  froth,  a  phantasm,  a  shadow,  a  reflection, 
 an  apparition,  a  very  nothing.  Like  the 
 incubus  or  nightmare  in  a  dream,  y(ju 
 imagine  it  a  substance,  a  weight ;  you 
 grasp  at  it,  and  awake,  and  'tis  nothing  ! 
 Pleasure  and  wealth  will  abide  a  sense  or 
 two — the  one  a  touch  or  taste,  the  other  a 
 sight  of  the  eyes ;  but  this  of  glory  can 
 neither  be  felt,  seen,  nor  understood. 
 
 T.  Brooks. 
 
 WORLDLY  GREATNESS— Disappointment 
 of. 
 
 Look  at  the  tender  climbing  plant  of  sum- 
 mer; it  takes  hold  of  some  ol>ject,  and  creeps 
 along  upward  till  its  tendrils  shoot  high 
 and  beautifully  into  the  air  :  but  the  prop 
 is  taken  away,  and  there  it  stands,  reaching 
 out  its  fingers  for  something  to  fasten 
 upon — full  of  life  and  vigour  still,  but 
 sinking  because  its  support  is  taken 
 away,  and  falling  like  a  worthless 
 weed  to  the  ground.  Such,  even  at  the 
 very  moment  of  its  greatest  vigour,  is  often 
 the  state  of  those  who  seek  worldly  great- 
 ness. Look  at  all  history  :  when  were  its 
 great  men  so  wretched,  as  when  they  had 
 attained  the  highest  point  of  exaltation  ! 
 "  He  has  gained  everything,"  said  a  com- 
 panion of  Napoleon,  when  he  was  in  the 
 zenith  of  prosperity,  "  and  yet  he  is  un- 
 happy." Lewis. 
 
 WORLDLY  HAPPINESS— Unsatisfying. 
 
 The  prodigal  son  tried  to  satiate  his  ap- 
 petite with  husks.  A  husk  is  an  empty 
 thing ;  it  is  a  thing  which  looks  extremely 
 like  food,  and  promises  as  much  as  food ; 
 
 but  it  is  not  food.  It  is  a  thing  which 
 when  chewed  will  stay  the  appetite,  but 
 leaves  the  emaciated  body  without  nourish- 
 ment. Earthly  happiness  is  a  husk.  We 
 say  not  that  there  is  no  satisfaction  in  the 
 pleasures  of  a  worldly  life.  That  would 
 be  an  overstatement  of  the  truth.  Some- 
 thing there  is,  or  why  should  men  persist 
 in  living  for  them  ?  The  cravings  of  man's 
 appetite  may  be  stayed  by  things  which 
 cannot  satisfy  him.  Every  new  pursuit 
 contains  in  it  a  new  hope ;  and  it  is  long 
 before  hope  is  bankrupt.  But,  my  breth- 
 ren, it  is  strange  if  a  man  has  not  found  out 
 long  before  he  has  reached  the  age  of  thirty, 
 that  everything  here  is  empty  and  dis- 
 appointing. Tlie  nobler  his  heart,  and  the 
 more  unquenchable  his  hunger  for  the  high 
 and  the  good,  the  sooner  will  he  find  that, 
 out.  Bubble  after  bubble  bursts,  each 
 bubble  tinted  with  the  celestial  colours  of 
 the  rainbow,  and  each  leaving  in  the  hand 
 which  crushes  it  a  cold,  damp  drop  of  dis- 
 appointment. All  that  is  described  in 
 Scripture  by  the  emphatic  metaphor  of 
 "  sowing  the  wind  and  reaping  the  whirl- 
 wind," the  whirlwind  of  blighted  hopes 
 and  unreturned  feelings,  and  crushed  ex- 
 pectations— that  is  the  harvest  which  the 
 world  gives  you  to  reap. 
 
 F.  W.  Eohertson. 
 
 WORLDLY  NAME. 
 
 A  great  name  of  worldly  glory  is  but 
 like  a  peal  rung  on  the  bells;  the  common 
 people  are  the  clappers ;  the  rope  that 
 moves  them  is  popularity ;  if  you  once  let 
 go  your  hold  and  leave  pulling,'the  clappers 
 lie  still,  and  farewell  honour.      T.  Adams. 
 
 WORLDLY  PLEASURES— Unsatisfying. 
 
 We  might  ask  the  statesman,  and  as  we 
 wished  him  a  happy  new  year.  Lord 
 Dundas  would  answer,  "  It  had  need  to  be 
 happier  than  the  last,  for  I  never  knew 
 one  happy  day  in  it."  We  might  ask  the 
 successful  lawyer,  and  the  wariest,  luckiest, 
 most  self-complacent  of  them  all,  would 
 answer,  as  Lord  J]ldon  was  privately  record- 
 ing when  the  whole  bar  envied  the  Chan- 
 cellor ;  "  A  few  weeks  will  send  me  to  dear 
 Encomb,  as  a  short  resting-place  between 
 vexati(m  and  the  grave."  We  might  say 
 to  the  golden  millionaire,  "  You  must  be  a 
 happy  man,  Mr.  Rothschild."  "  Happy  ! 
 me  happy  ?  What !  happy,  when  just  "as 
 you  are  going  to  dine,  you  have  a  letter 
 put  into  your  hand,  saying,  '  If  you  do  not 
 send  me  £500,  I  will  blow  your  brains 
 out.'  Happy  !  when  you  have  to  sleep 
 with  pistols  at  your  pillows  !  "  We  might 
 ask  the  clever  artist  (David  Scott),  and 
 our  gifted  countryman  would  answer,  of 
 whose  latter  days  a  brother  writes,  "In 
 the  studio  all  the  pictures  seemed  to  stand 
 up  like  enemies  to  receive  me."     This  joy 
 
WORLDLY  EICHES-WOHLDLY  THINGS. 
 
 in  labour,  this  desire  for  fame,  what  have 
 tliey  done  for  him?  The  walls  of  this 
 gaunt  sounding  place,  the  frames,  even 
 some  of  the  canvasses  are  furred  with 
 damp.  In  the  little  library  where  he 
 painted  last,  was  the  "  Nepenthe"  written 
 interrogatively,  with  white  chalk  on  the 
 wall.  We  might  ask  the  world-famed 
 warrior,  and  get  for  our  answer  the 
 "  Miserere  "  of  the  emperor  monk,  or  the 
 sigh  of  a  broken  heart  from  St.  Helena. 
 AVe  might  ask  the  brilliant  courtier,  and 
 Lord  Chesterfield  would  tell  us,  "  I  have 
 enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  and 
 I  do  not  regret  their  loss.  I  have  been 
 behind  the  scenes;  I  have  seen  all  tlie 
 coarse  pulleys  and  dirty  ropes  which  move 
 tiie  gaudy  machines ;  and  I  have  seen  and 
 smelt  the  tallow  candles  which  illuminate 
 the  whole  decorations,  to  the  astonishment 
 of  an  ignorant  audience."  We  might  ask 
 the  dazzling  wit,  and  faint  with  a  glut  of 
 glory,  yet  disgusted  with  the  creatures 
 that  adored  him,  Voltaire  would  condense 
 the  essence  of  his  existence  into  one  word, 
 "  Ennui."  And  we  might  ask  the  world's 
 poet,  and  we  should  be  answered  with  an 
 imprecation  by  that  splendid  genius,  who 
 "  Drank  every  cup  of  joy,  heard  every 
 trump  of  fame ;  drank  early,  deeply  drank, 
 drank  draughts  that  might  have  quenched 
 common  millions;  then  died  of  thirst,  be- 
 cause there  was  no  more  to  drink." 
 
 Dr.  J.  Hamilton. 
 
 WOELDLY  RICHES. 
 
 Worldly  riches  are  like  mits;  many 
 clothes  are  torn  in  getting  them,  many  a 
 tooth  broke  in  cracking  them,  but  never 
 a  belly  filled  with  eating  them.       Yenning. 
 
 •WORLDLY  AND  SPIRITUAL  THINGS. 
 
 The  man  who  seeks  first  the  things  of 
 this  world  in  preference  to  those  which 
 are  spiritual,  is  like  the  man  who  should 
 build  a  pyramid  with  its  apex  on  the 
 ground,  and  its  base  in  the  air,  which, 
 before  he  had  proceeded  far,  would  tumble 
 over  and  crush  him  under  its  ruins. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 "WORLDLY  THINGS— Abuse  and  use  of. 
 
 If  you  would  use  the  world  as  not 
 abusing  it,  consider,  that  in  abusing  the 
 things  of  the  world,  you  do  pervert  the  end 
 of  God  in  giving  you  the  things  of  the 
 world;  for  the  end  that  God  aims  at  is, 
 that  every  creature  should  lead  you  to  the 
 Creator,  that  thereby  you  may  the  more 
 admire  His  goodness,  and  advance  His 
 praise  and  glory.  He  looks  that  every 
 blessing  He  bestows  upon  you,  should  be 
 as  a  perspective  glass,  through  which  you 
 may  have  a  clearer  sight  and  view  of  Him- 
 self, though  you  are  at  a  great  distance 
 from  Him.     In  1  Tim.  iv,  4,  "  Every  crea- 
 
 ture of  God  is  good,  and  to  be  received 
 with  thanksgiving."  As  doves,  every  grain 
 they  pick  look  upward,  so  should  Chris- 
 tians ;  and  therefore  if  thou  dost  abuse 
 any  of  His  creatures,  thou  dost  pervert 
 the  end  of  the  Most  High.  God  did  or- 
 dain food  for  thy  use,  to  satisfy  thy 
 hunger,  and  not  to- feed  thy  gluttony.  He 
 gave  thee  drink  to  extinguish  thy  thirst, 
 and  not  to  provoke  thee  to  drunkenness. 
 God  gave  thee  apparel  to  cover  thy  naked- 
 ness, and  to  keep  thee  warm,  and  not  to 
 be  an  instrument  of  pride  in  thee,  and  so 
 of  any  other  comfort.        Christopher  Love. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Beauty  of. 
 
 The  beauty  of  all  worldly  things  is  but 
 as  a  fair  picture  drawn  upon  the  ice,  that 
 melts  away  with  it.  The  foshion  of  this 
 world  passeth  away.    Jeremiah  Burroughs. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Deception  of. 
 
 It  is  said  there  is  a  fiery  light  which 
 appears  in  marshy  places,  floating  just 
 above  the  surface  of  the  earth,  so  volatile 
 in  its  nature  that  the  least  breath  moves 
 it,  and  consequently  those  who  rush  towards 
 it  most  eagerly,  create  a  current  of  air 
 which  drives  it  from  them,  and  it  thus 
 leads  them  on  to  miry  places  for  their  de- 
 struction ;  while  if  they  would  quietly  sit 
 down  it  might  float  near  them,  or  rest 
 upon  them  when  there  was  no  agitation  in 
 the  atmosphere  to  repel  it.  So  is  it  with 
 the  great  things  of  this  world,  they  often 
 fly  from  the  face  of  those  who  pant  most 
 anxiously  in  the  chase  of  them ;  they  fre- 
 quently rest  upon  those  who  reach  after 
 them  with  calm  and  persevering  industry. 
 Leivis. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— in  a  Dying  Hour. 
 
 When  Garrick  showed  Dr.  Johnson  his 
 fine  house,  gardens,  statues,  pictures,  &c., 
 at  Hampton  Court,  what  ideas  did  they 
 awaken  in  the  mind  of  that  great  man  ? 
 Instead  of  a  flattering  compliment  that 
 was  expected,  "  Ah  !  David,  David  !"  said 
 the  Doctor,  "these  are  the  things  which 
 make  a  death-bed  terrible !" 
 
 J.  Whitecross. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Fading. 
 
 As  withereth  the  primrose  by  the  river, 
 As   fadeth  summer's  sun   from  gliding 
 fountains. 
 
 As  vunisheth  the  light  blown  bubble  ever, 
 As  melteth  snow  upon  the  mossy  moun- 
 tains; 
 
 So  melts,  so  vanishes,  so  fades,  so  withers 
 
 The  rose,  the  shine,  the  bubble,  and  the 
 snow, 
 
 Of  praise,  pomp,  glory,  joy  (which  short 
 life  gathers), 
 
 Fair  praise,  va  n  pomp,  sweet  glory,  brittle 
 joy! 
 
WORLDLY  THINGS— WOKSHIP  OF  GOD. 
 
 fl07 
 
 The  witliered  primrose  by  the  mourning 
 river, 
 The  faded  summer's  sun,  from  weeping 
 fountains. 
 The  liglit  blown  bubble,  vanished  for  ever, 
 The  molten  snow  upon  the  naked  moun- 
 tains. 
 Are  emblems  that  the  treasures  we  uplay. 
 Soon  wither,  vanish,  fade,  and  melt  away. 
 E.  King. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Grasping  after. 
 
 The  avaricious  often  overreach  them- 
 selves, and  obtain  bankruptcy  rather  than 
 wealth  ;  and  the  politician  often  grasps  at 
 office  too  eagerly,  and  like  a  man  stretching 
 exit  his  hand  too  fast  and  too  far,  oversets 
 himself  in  the  mire  of  infamy  and  disap- 
 pointment. The  best  way  for  us  to  gain 
 and  enjoy  the  gifts  of  earthly  good  is  to 
 let  them  come  to  us  while  in  the  way  of 
 duty,  without  much  anxiety  on  our  part 
 for  them.  These  painted  butterflies  of  the 
 world  are  beautiful  indeed,  and  to  be  ad- 
 mired in  their  place,  but  grasped  eagerly 
 they  are  crushed  in  the  hand,  while  wooed 
 quietly  they  may  settle  by  our  side  and  be 
 made  our  own.  Letois. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Lawful  Use  of. 
 
 There  is  a  lawful  use  God  allows  of 
 these  outward  things,  but  the  sin  is  in  the 
 excess.  The  bee  may  suck  a  little  honey 
 from  the  leaf,  but,  put  it  in  a  barrel  of 
 honey,  and  it  is  drowned.  The  wicked  are 
 thus  characterised  : — "  They  mind  earthly 
 things."  They  are  like  Saul,  hid  among 
 the  stuff".  We  should  be  as  eagles,  flying 
 aloft  towards  heaven;  and  not  as  serpents 
 creeping  upon  the  earth,  and  licking  the 
 dust.  T.  Watson. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Perishing  of. 
 
 When  Alexander  saw  himself  wounded 
 and  in  danger  of  death,  he  then  saw  the 
 vanity  of  those  flatterers  that  would  have 
 persuaded  him  he  was  a  god.  So  when  we 
 see  those  things  upon  which  we  set  our 
 hearts,  as  if  our  chief  good,  as  if  a  deity 
 were  in  them,  to  be  wounded  and  ready  to 
 perish,  let  us  learn  to  alter  our  thoughts 
 of  them,  to  take  off  our  hearts  from  them. 
 Jeremiah  Burroughs. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Stooping  to. 
 
 Plutarch  saith  of  Themistocles  that  he 
 accounted  it  below  his  state  to  stoop  to 
 take  up  the  spoils  (though  chains  of  gold) 
 which  the  enemy  had  scattered  in  the  way, 
 but  said  to  one  of  his  followers,  "  Thou 
 mayest,  for  thou  art  not  Themistocles."  It 
 is  for  worldly  spirits  ;  it  is  below  the  state 
 of  heaven-born  spirits  to  stoop  to  worldly 
 things.  Worldlings  may,  they  are  not 
 Themistocles,  they  are  not  saints. 
 
 Venning. 
 
 WORLDLY  THINGS— Uncertainty  of. 
 
 "  Wilt  thou  set  thine  eyes  upon  that 
 which  is  not  ?  for  riches  certainly  make 
 themselves  wings,  they  flee  away  as  an 
 eagle  towards  heaven  "  (Prov.  xxiii,  5). 
 You  would  think  him  an  absurd  man  who, 
 when  he  sees  an  eagle  in  his  field,  would 
 take  great  care  how  to  fence  it  in  there, 
 whereas  no  fence  can  secure  it,  make  it  as 
 high  as  he  can.  The  eagle,  when  she  list, 
 will  make  use  of  her  wings,  and  fly  away  ; 
 she  will  do  it  certainly.  Such  winged 
 things  are  the  enjoyments  of  this  life. 
 There  is  nothing  so  certain  as  our  utter 
 uncertainty  of  having  them  or  keeping 
 them.  D.  Clarkson. 
 
 WORSHIP  OF  GOD— with  the  Body. 
 
 God  is  to  be  worshipped  with  the  body 
 as  with  the  mind  ;  for  He  made  both,  re- 
 deemed both,  and  will  glorify  both.  But 
 there  are  amongst  us  those  who  have 
 banished  the  worship  of  the  body  out  of 
 our  churches;  to  bow  their  knees,  or  to 
 stand  upright  in  some  of  the  more  solemn 
 acts  of  worship,  is  thought  superstitious ; 
 and  they  measure  the  purity  of  religion 
 by  its  rusticities  and  indecencies,  and  think 
 that  they  are  never  got  far  enough  from 
 Rome,  unless  they  oppose  all  decent  cus- 
 toms of  the  civilised  world.  As  if  the 
 eternal  majesty  of  heaven  was  to  be  ap- 
 proached contrary  to  the  custom  of  all 
 nations,  the  devotion  of  churches,  and  the 
 common  sense  of  all  mankind.  The  de- 
 votion of  such  resembles  the  superstition 
 of  those  Pagans  that  Strabo  mentions,  that 
 offered  none  of  the  flesh  of  their  sacrifice 
 unto  their  gods,  but  affirmed  that  the  gods 
 were  content  with  the  blood  only,  as  if 
 they  had  no  regard  to  the  externals  of  their 
 worship.  The  behaviour  of  some  of  us  in 
 the  time  of  God's  worship,  would  not  be- 
 come us  in  the  presence  of  our  governors. 
 But  customary  and  universal  faults  are  not 
 so  easily  reformed,  and  some  of  them,  the 
 more  they  are  reproved,  the  more  incurable 
 they  become.  Monro. 
 
 WORSHIP  OF  GOD— False. 
 
 As  if  a  stranger  coming  into  a  country 
 mistakes  a  subject  for  the  prince,  and  pays 
 that  reverence  to  the  subject  which  is  due 
 to  the  prince,  though  lie  mistakes  the 
 object,  yet  he  owns  an  authority ;  or  if  he 
 pays  any  respect  to  the  true  prince  of  that 
 country  after  the  mode  of  his  own,  though 
 appearing  ridiculous  in  the  place  where  he 
 is,  he  owns  the  authority  of  the  prince ; 
 whereas  the  omission  of  all  respect  would 
 be  a  contempt  of  majesty.  And  therefore, 
 the  judgments  of  God  have  been  more 
 signal  upon  the  sacrilegious  contemners  of 
 worship  among  the  heathens,  than  upon 
 those  that  were   diligent  and  devout  in 
 
903 
 
 WORSHIP  OP  GOD— WORTH. 
 
 their  false  wnrsliip ;  and  they  generally 
 owned  the  blessings  received,  to  tlie  pre- 
 servation of  a  sense  and  worship  of  a  deity 
 among  them.  Though  such  a  worship  be 
 not  acceptable  to  God,  and  every  man  is 
 bound  to  offer  to  God  a  devotion  agreeable 
 to  his  own  mind,  yet  it  is  commendable, 
 not  as  worship,  but  as  it  speaks  an  acknow- 
 ledgment of  such  a  being  as  God,  in  His 
 power  in  creation,  and  His  beneficence  in 
 His  providence.  Charnock. 
 
 WORSHIP  OF  GOD— Nature  of  the. 
 
 1.  Is  He  a  Saviour  1  Then  we  should 
 come  to  Him  as  sinners ;  for  sinners  only 
 need  a  Saviour.  All  others  will  be  re- 
 jected. If  you  do  not  need  a  Saviour,  you 
 do  not  need  the  true  God,  and  can  neither 
 know  nor  worship  Him.  All  have  sinned 
 and  come  short  of  His  glory  ;  all  are  guilty 
 .  .  .  .  and  not  a  son  of  Adam  can 
 approach  a  holy  God,  except  as  a  sinner 
 condemned,  guilty,  cursed,  seeking  sal- 
 vation, and  mercy,  and  pardon,  and  grace, 
 from  a  Saviour.  There  can  be  no  ac- 
 ceptable worship  until  we  are  convinced  of 
 sin,  and  humbled  on  account  of  it. 
 
 2.  Is  God  a  Father?  Then  we  should 
 worship  Him  as  children.  Keconciled  to 
 Him  as  a  Saviour,  pardoned,  accepted, 
 justified,  there  is  no  more  condemnation, 
 for  us  who  believe,  and  so  we  can  look  up 
 to  the  great  God,  and  call  Him  Father 
 (Rom.  viii,  14—17  ;  Gal.  iv,  6,  7). 
 
 3.  Is  He  a  Spirit  ?  Then  "  we  must 
 worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 
 Whether  as  a  Saviour,  a  Father,  or  the 
 Great  God,  He  will  accept  only  the  wor- 
 ship of  the  mind,  the  heart,  the  under- 
 standing.  An  idol  god  might  be  satisfied 
 with  the  bended  knee  and  uplifted  hand, 
 but  our  God  looks  on  the  heart.  "  My  son, 
 give  me  thy  heart."  A  legal  master  would 
 be  content  with  outward  obedience,  but 
 our  God  requires  His  law  to  be  written  on 
 our  hearts  because  He  is  a  Spirit. 
 
 Dean  Close. 
 
 WORSHIP  OF  GOD -Place  of  the. 
 
 It  was  formerly,  and  for  hundreds  of 
 years,  only  in  one  place  where  God  would 
 be  worshipped  (Deut.  xii,  5  ;  v.  13,  14 ; 
 Exod.  XXV,  21,  22).  Salvation  was  then 
 confined  to  the  Jews,  and  where  the  ark  of 
 the  covenant,  and  the  high  priest,  and  the 
 altar,  and  all  the  symbols  of  salvation 
 were — there,  and  there  only,  would  God  be 
 worshipped.  Thither  "  the  tribes  of  the 
 Lord  went  up,"  and  when  banished  from 
 that  place,  they  worshipped  "  towards  it." 
 So  Solomon  prayed  at  the  dedication  of  the 
 temple  (1  Kings  viii,  35—38,  42).  So 
 Daniel  in  captivity  in  Babylon,  threw  open 
 his  window,  "  and  prayed  towards  Jeru- 
 salem "  (Dan.  vi,  10).  "  I  will  worship 
 toward  Thy  holy  temple."  There  the  great 
 
 God  actually  dwelt  in  the  Holy  of  Holies, 
 and  only  tliere  would  He  be  worshipped. 
 
 But  our  Lord  teaches  the  woman  of 
 Samaria  that  this  whole  system  of  local 
 worship  was  passing  away.  "  The  hour 
 was  coming" — nay,  "was  come" — when 
 the  mountain  of  Samaria  would  be  as  holy 
 as  Mount  Zion ;  the  Steppes  of  Kussia  and 
 the  Prairies  of  America  as  sacred  as  the 
 land  of  Canaan ;  when  neither  in  one  place 
 more  than  in  another  would  God  be  wor- 
 shipped, but  anywhere  and  everywhere, 
 "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  to- 
 gether in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the 
 midst"  (Matt,  xviii,  20).  That  is  my 
 Church,  my  temple,  my  holy  mountain,  in 
 the  midst  of  the  hearts  of  my  praying 
 people.  "  To  all  that  in  every  place  call 
 upon  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord" 
 (1  Cor.  i,  2).  Bean  Close. 
 
 WORSHIP  OP  GOD— Pleasures  of  the. 
 
 I  know  of  no  pleasure  so  rich,  none  so 
 pure,  none  so  hallowing  in  their  influences, 
 and  constant  in  their  supply,  as  those 
 which  result  from  tlie  true  and  spiritual 
 worship  of  God.  Pleasant  as  the  cool 
 water  brooks  are  to  a  thirsty  hart,  so 
 pleasant  will  it  be  to  us  to  approach  unto 
 the  living  God.  11.  Watson. 
 
 WORSHIP  OF  GOD— Spiritual. 
 
 As  the  strength  of  sin  lies  in  the  inward 
 frame  of  the  heart,  so  the  strength  of  woi-- 
 ship  in  the  inward  complexion  and  temper 
 of  the  soul.  Shadows  are  not  to  be  ottered 
 instead  of  substance.  God  asks  for  the 
 heart  in  worship,  and  commands  outward 
 ceremonies,  as  subservient  to  inward  wor- 
 ship, and  goads  and  spears  unto  it.  Wliat 
 value  had  the  offering  of  the  human  nature 
 of  Christ  been,  if  He  had  not  had  a  Divine 
 nature  to  qualify  Him  to  be  the  Priest  ? 
 And  what  is  the  oblation  of  our  bodies, 
 without  a  priestly  act  of  the  spirit  in  the 
 presentation  of  it  ?  To  offer  a  body  with 
 a  sapless  spirit,  is  a  sacrilege  of  the  same 
 nature  with  that  of  the  Israelites  whiu 
 they  offered  dead  beasts.  One  sound  sacri- 
 fice is  better  than  a  thousand  rotten  one-f. 
 Charnock. 
 
 WORTH— Neglected. 
 Full  many  a  gem,  of  purest  ray  serene. 
 The   dark    unfathom'd   caves   of  ocean 
 bear ; 
 Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen. 
 And  waste  its  fragrance  on  the  desert  air. 
 Gray. 
 
 Ah  me !  full  sorely  is  my  heart  forlorn. 
 To  think  how  modest  worth  neglected 
 lies ;  [adorn 
 
 While  partial  fame  doth  with  her    hosts 
 
WEATH  OF  GOD— TEAR. 
 
 Sucli  deeds  alone  as  pride  and  pomp  dis- 
 guise— 
 
 Deeds  of  ill  sort,  and  mischievous  em- 
 prise. Shenstone, 
 WEATH  OF  GOD. 
 
 A  timerous  man  can  fancy  vast  and  ter- 
 rible fears,  fire,  sword,  tempests,  racks, 
 furnaces,  scalding  lead,  boiling  pitch,  run- 
 ning bell-metal,  and  being  kept  alive  in 
 all  these  to  feel  their  torment ;  but  these 
 come  far  short  of  the  wrath  of  God ;  for, 
 first,  there  are  bounds  set  to  the  hurting 
 power  of  a  creature ;  the  fire  can  burn,  but 
 it  cannot  drown  ;  the  serpent  can  sting, 
 but  he  cannot  tear  in  pieces.  Secondly, 
 the  fears  of  the  heart  are  bounded  within 
 those  narrow  apprehensions,  which  itself 
 can  frame  of  the  hurts  which  may  be  done. 
 But  the  wrath  of  God  proceeds  from  an 
 infinite  justice,  and  is  executed  by  an  om- 
 nipotent and  unbounded  power,  comprising 
 all  the  terror  of  all  other  creatures  (as  the 
 sun  doth  all  other  light)  eminently  and 
 excessively  in  it ;  it  burns,  and  drowns, 
 and  tears,  and  stings,  and  bruises,  and 
 consumes,  and  nature  can  feel  much  more 
 than  reason  is  able  to  comprehend. 
 
 Bp.  Reynolds. 
 WRATH  OF  GOD.— Restrained. 
 
 The  wrath  of  God  is  like  great  waters 
 that  are  dammed  for  the  present ;  they  in- 
 crease more  and  more,  and  rise  higher  and 
 higlier,  till  an  outlet  is  given  ;  and  the 
 higher  the  stream  is  stopped,  the  more 
 rapid  and  mighty  is  its  course,  when  once 
 it  is  let  loose.  If  God  should  only  with- 
 draw His  hand  from  the  flood-gate,  it 
 would  immediately  fly  open,  and  the  fiery 
 floods  of  the  fierceness  and  wrath  of  God 
 would  rush  forth  with  inconceivable  fury, 
 and  would  come  upon  you  with  omnipotent 
 power ;  and  if  your  strength  were  ten 
 thousand  times  greater  than  it  is,  yea,  ten 
 thousand  times  greater  than  the  strength 
 of  the  stoutest,  sturdiest  devil  in  hell,  it 
 would  be  nothing  to  withstand  or  endure 
 it.  Jonathan  Edwards. 
 
 WRATH  OF  GOD— why  Restrained. 
 
 The  bow  of  God's  wrath  is  bent,  and  the 
 arrow  made  ready  on  the  string,  and  jus- 
 tice bends  the  arrow  at  your  heart,  and 
 strains  the  bow,  and  it  is  nothing  but  the 
 mere  pleasure  of  God,  and  that  of  an 
 angry  God,  without  any  promise  or  obli- 
 gation at  all,  that  keeps  the  arrow  one 
 moment  from  being  made  drunk  with  your 
 blood.  Ibid. 
 
 WRONG— Imagining. 
 
 We  make  ourselves  more  injuries  than 
 are  offered  to  us ;  t\\ey  many  times  pass 
 for  wrongs  in  our  own  thoughts,  that  were 
 never  meant  so  by  the  heart  of  him  that  j 
 speaketh.     The    apprehension    of   wrong  I 
 
 hurts  more  than  the  sharpest  part  of  the 
 wrong  done.  Feltham. 
 
 WRONG— Resistance  of. 
 
 As  it  is  said  that  ferocious  animals  are 
 disarmed  by  the  eye  of  man,  and  will  dare 
 no  violence,  if  he  but  steadily  look  at  them, 
 so  it  is  when  right  looks  upon  wrong.  Re- 
 sist the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you  ; 
 off'er  him  a  bold  front,  and  he  runs  away. 
 He  goes,  it  may  be,  uttering  threats  of 
 rage,  but  yet  he  goes.  Bushnell. 
 
 WRONG— Revenging  a. 
 
 To  revenge  a  wrong  is  easy,  usual  and 
 natural,  and  as  the  world  thinks,  savours 
 of  nobleness  of  mind  ;  but  religion  teaches 
 the  contrary,  and  tells  us  it  is  better  to 
 neglect  than  to  requite  it,       J.  Beaumont. 
 
 WRONG  THINGS. 
 
 'Tis  wrong  to  sleep  in  church;  'tis  wrong 
 to  borrow 
 What  you  can  never  pay ;  'tis  wrong  to 
 touch 
 With  unkind  word  the  heart  that  pines  in 
 sorrow ; 
 'Tis  wrong  to  scold  too  loud ;  to  eat  too 
 much ; 
 'Tis  wrong  to  put  off'  acting  till  to-morrow. 
 J.  T.  Watson. 
 
 Y. 
 
 YEAR— the  Dying. 
 
 If  we  might  for  a  moment  personify 
 the  dying  year  in  his  last  days,  we  should 
 picture  him  a  little  shrivelled  old  man — 
 shrivelled  as  one  of  his  grandsire's  winter 
 pippins  —  piping  in  the  shrill  treble  of 
 extreme  age,  and  uttering  an  experience 
 strongly  resembling  that  of  human  life. 
 "  Listen  to  me,  mortals  ! "  he  might  say, 
 with  the  same  emphasis  with  which  the 
 old,  wise  by  experience,  say  the  like  to 
 the  young,  who  will  never  be  wise  without 
 it :  "  Listen  to  me,  ye  mortals  !  for  I  also 
 am  of  the  race  of  the  ephemerals.  I  had 
 my  sturdy  youth,  when  it  seemed  that 
 my  life  would  never  end  ;  and  I  dug,  and 
 ploughed,  and  planted,  and  enjoyed  my 
 jocund  prime  and  my  golden  summer ; 
 and  I  decked  myself  in  the  garlands  of 
 May,  and  reaped  the  yellow  harvest,  and 
 gathered  the  purple  vintage  of  autumn  ; 
 but  scarcely  had  I  attained  the  object  of 
 my  desires,  and  secured  the  plenty  for 
 which  I  laboured,  than  I  found  the  shadows 
 lengthening,  and  the  days  shortening,  and 
 my  breath  growing  short  with  them,  and 
 decrepitude  coming  upon  me,  and  the  days 
 at  hand  of  which  I  said,  '  I  have  no  plea- 
 sure in  them.'  I  have  laid  up  riches  and 
 know  not  who  shall  gather  them  ;  have 
 planted  trees  which  must  shade  far  distaut 
 
910 
 
 YOUUG— YOUTH. 
 
 years,  and  stored  the  vintage  of  which  other 
 years  must  driuk."  K.  Rogers. 
 
 YOUNG— Car 6  of  the. 
 
 A  gentleman  was  once  walking  over  the 
 farm  of  his  friend,  and  observing  the  very 
 superior  sheep  which  he  had,  he  asked  him 
 how  it  was  he  came  to  have  them  so  fine  ? 
 His  reply  was,  "  I  take  care  of  my  lambs, 
 sir  ? "  What  an  important  lesson  this 
 teaches  fathers,  mothers,  teachers,  and 
 ministers !  If  we  want  the  future  gene- 
 ration to  be  sober,  wise,  religious,  let  us 
 take  care  of  them  while  they  are  children. 
 The  florist  and  gardener  take  care  of  the 
 buds  and  blossoms,  in  order  that  the  fruit 
 may  be  good.  So  let  all  they  who  have  in 
 any  way  the  charge  of  the  young  pay  par- 
 ticular attention  to  their  physical,  moral, 
 social,  mental,  and  religious  training,  so 
 that  their  subsequent  years  may  bear  good 
 fruit  to  the  world  and  to  God. 
 
 John  Bate. 
 
 YOUTH— Allurements  of. 
 
 How  richly  glows  the  water's  breast 
 
 Before  us,  tinged  with  evening's  hues. 
 While,  facing  thus  the  crimson  west. 
 
 The  boat  her  silver  course  pursues  ! 
 And  see  how  dark  the  backward  stream, 
 
 A  little  moment  past  so  smiling. 
 And  still,  perhaps,  with  faithless  gleam. 
 
 Some  other  loiterers  beguiling  I 
 
 Such  views  the  youthful  soul  allure ; 
 
 But,  heedless  of  the  following  gloom, 
 He  deems  their  colours  shall  endure 
 
 Till  peace  go  with  him  to  the  tomb. 
 And  let  him  nurse  his  fond  deceit ; 
 
 And  what  if  he  must  die  in  sorrow  ? 
 Who  would  not  cherish  dreams  so  sweet. 
 
 Though   grief  and  pain  may   come  to- 
 morrow ?  Wordsworth. 
 
 YOUTH— Conversion  of. 
 
 Of  507  students,  at  six  theological  insti- 
 tutions in  the  States,  313  were  instructed 
 in  the  Sabbath-schools,  and  the  average 
 age  of  their  conversion  was  sixteen  years. 
 In  a  single  town  500  persons  were  received 
 into  a  church  in  forty  years ;  more  than 
 400  of  these  were  children  of  pious 
 parents,  and  most  of  them  embraced  the 
 Gospel  in  early  life.  In  a  revival  which 
 took  place  in  Lewisburg,  Virginia,  there 
 were  converted  and  joined  the  church  79, 
 or  47  per  cent.,  from  the  age  of  ten  to 
 twenty  years  ;  from  twenty  to  thirty  years 
 there  were  48,  or  28  per  cent.  During 
 eleven  years,  there  were  converted  in  the 
 Sabbath-schools  of  the  M.  E.  Church, 
 United  States,  143,867.  John  Bate. 
 
 YOUTH— Duration  of. 
 
 Youth  is  a  flower  that  soon  withereth  ; 
 a  blossom  that  quickly  falls  ofl";  it  is  a 
 
 space  of  time  in  which  we  are  rash,  foolish, 
 and  inconsiderate,  pleasing  ourselves  with 
 a  variety  of  vanities,  and  swimming,  as  it 
 were,  through  a  flood  of  them.  But  ere 
 we  are  aware,  it  is  past,  and  we  are  in 
 middle  age,  encompassed  with  a  thick  cloud 
 of  cares,  through  which  we  must  grope. 
 
 Boston. 
 
 YOUTH— Excesses  of. 
 
 The  excesses  of  youth  are  drafts  upon 
 our  old  age,  payable  with  interest  about 
 thirty  years  after  date.  Cotton, 
 
 YOUTH— Flight  of. 
 
 Oh  !  what  a  world  of  beauty  fades  away 
 
 With  the  wing'd  hours  of  youth !     Dawes. 
 
 YOUTH— Gladness  of. 
 
 There's  a  gladness  in  the  voice  of  youth, 
 
 and  its  song  'mid  summer  bowers, 
 When  the  sun  is  on  its  golden  car,  and 
 
 the  dew  upon  the  flowers ; 
 It  comes  like  our  own  voices  back  from  a 
 
 past  and  happy  scene, 
 So  fair  that  nothing  after  is  so  fair  as  what 
 
 has  been. 
 
 There's  a  gladness  in  the  look  of  youth, 
 
 and  its  smile  of  friendly  glee. 
 When  it  meets  with  gladness  /like  its  own, 
 
 as  simple  and  as  free  ; 
 It  warms  our  bosoms  like  the  thought  ot 
 
 those  that  with  us  dwelt. 
 Ere   friendship    to    another    shrine    than 
 
 friendly  hearts  had  knelt. 
 
 There's  a  gladness  in  the  step  of  youth, 
 and  its  bearing  frank  and  high. 
 
 That  the  proudest  despot  of  the  earth 
 would  tremble  to  defy  ; 
 
 We  follow  it  as  if  it  led  to  the  very  moun- 
 tain's side, 
 
 Where  we  chased  the  bold  stag  in  its  speed, 
 and  the  eagle  in  its  pride. 
 
 There's  a  gladness  in  the  sleep  of  youth, 
 and  its  calm  unbroken  rest. 
 
 With  the  dew  of  blessing  on  its  head  from 
 the  fountain  in  its  breast ; 
 
 There's  nothing  in  our  after  years  of  weari- 
 ness like  this. 
 
 Till  when  the  heart  is  young  again  in  its 
 sabbath  year  of  bhss.  M.  Siebbinff. 
 
 YOUTH— Learning  in. 
 
 Daniel  Webster  once  told  a  good  anec- 
 dote in  a  speech.  When  asked  where  he 
 got  it,  he  said,  "  I  have  had  it  laid  up  in 
 my  head  for  fourteen  years,  and  never  had 
 a  chance  to  use  it  till  to-day." 
 
 My  little  friend  wants  to  know  what 
 good  it  will  do  to  learn  the  "  rule  of 
 three,"  or  to  commit  a  verse  of  the  Bible 
 or  the  Catechism.  The  answer  is  this: 
 Sometime  you  will  need  that  very  thing. 
 Perhaps  it  may  be  twenty  years   before 
 
YOUTH— YOUTHFUL  EUESGY.. 
 
 911 
 
 yon  can  maTte  it  fit  in  just  the  right  place. 
 But  it  will  be  just  in  place  sometime,  and 
 then  if  you  don't  have  it,  you  will  be  like 
 the  hunter  who  had  no  ball  in  his  ritie 
 when  a  bear  met  him. 
 
 "  Twenty-five  years  ago,  my  teacher 
 made  me  study  surveying,"  said  a  man 
 who  had  lately  lost  his  property,  "  and 
 now  I  am  glad  of  it.  It  is  just  in  place. 
 I  can  get  a  good  situaticm  and  high 
 salary."  The  Bible  and  Catechism  are 
 better  than  that.  They  will  be  in  place 
 as  long  as  we  live.  Ano7t. 
 
 YOUTH— in  Old  Age. 
 
 John  Wesley  preached  on  an  average, 
 fifteen  sermons  a  tceek.  Instead  of  break- 
 ing down  under  it,  when  seventy-three 
 years  old  he  writes  that  he  is  far  abler 
 to  preach  than  when  three-and-twenty. 
 His  brow  was  then  smooth,  his  complexion 
 ruddy,  and  his  voice  strong  and  clear,  so 
 that  an  audience  of  thirty  thousand  could 
 hear  him  without  difficulty.  This  vigour 
 he  ascribes  to  continual  travel,  early  rising, 
 good  sleep,  and  an  even  temper.  "  I  feel 
 and  grieve,  but  by  the  grace  of  God  I  fret 
 at  nothng."  Dr.  Stevens, 
 
 YOUTH-Pleasures  of. 
 
 It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  wisdom  and 
 goodness  of  Providence  that  the  world 
 commonly  puts  on  its  most  smiling  aspect 
 to  welcome  our  entrance.  The  charm  of 
 novelty  makes  every  object  which  we  then 
 behold  an  object  of  delight.  All  around  is 
 wonder,  enchantment,  and  ecstasy.  Every- 
 thing we  see,  and  everything  we  hear,  is 
 capable  of  attracting  the  attention,  and 
 soothing  the  heart.  In  short,  the  first 
 scenes  of  our  existence  may  be  considered 
 as  the  empire  of  pleasure,  and  her  favorite 
 residence.  And  for  what  end  was  this 
 ordained,  but  that,  at  the  period  when  we 
 are  least  capable  of  conducting  aftairs  of 
 importance,  and  most  free  from  the  avo- 
 cations of  business  and  the  cares  of  life, 
 impressions  of  clieerfulness  and  joy  might 
 be  stamped  upon  the  mind — that  the  social 
 principles,  nourished  by  giving  and  re- 
 ceiving pleasure,  might  be  strengthened 
 and  improved ;  and  that  stores  of  gratitude 
 and  love  to  our  Great  parent  might  be 
 laid  up  within  the  soul  from  so  long  a 
 train  of  recollected  blessings  ?  These  are 
 virtues  for  which  the  rigid  and  austere 
 arc  not  always  the  most  remarkable  ;  yet, 
 what  is  there  left  which  deserves  the  name 
 of  virtue,  when  the  cheerful  services  of  our 
 fellow-creatures  and  of  our  M:iker  is  want- 
 ing ?  Nature,  therefore,  clearly  points  out 
 (as  the  God  of  nature  ordained)  that  cheer- 
 fulness, gaiety,  and  pleasure,  accompanied 
 with  innocenc  •  and  virtue,  should  preside 
 over  the  early  stages  of  life. 
 
 Observe,  then,  and  admire  the  benignity 
 
 of  your  Creator  !  Let  every  new-born  hope 
 and  heartfelt  joy  that  childhood  or  youth 
 inspires,  open  in  your  breasts  the  springs 
 of  pious  gratitude,  and  increase  the  gene- 
 rous spirit  of  universal  benevolence. 
 
 Roughton. 
 
 YOUTH— Pre-occupation  of. 
 
 You  remember  the  coachman  who  said 
 to  the  gentleman  on  the  box,  "  Do  you  see 
 that  off  leader  there,  sir?"  "Yes;  what 
 of  him  ?  "  "  He  always  shies,  sir,  when 
 he  comes  that  'ere  gate.  I  must  give  him 
 something  to  think  on"  No  sooner  said 
 than  up  went  the  whirling  thong,  and 
 came  down  full  of  its  sting  on  the  skittish 
 leader's  haunches.  He  had  "  something 
 else  to  think  on,"  no  time  for  panic  or 
 effected  panic,  and  flew  past  the  gate  like 
 lightning.  If  we  can  but  give  youth,  in 
 time,  "  something  else  to  think  on,"  we 
 may  keep  out  of  their  minds,  by  pre-occu- 
 pation, more  evil  than  we  can  ever  directly 
 expell.  S.  Sogers. 
 
 YOUTH— Protection  of. 
 
 Proprietors  rear  strong  fences  round 
 young  trees,  while  they  leave  aged 
 forests  to  take  their  chance.  Permit  not 
 the  immortal  to  be  twisted  at  the  very 
 starting  of  its  growth,  for  the  want  of 
 such  protection  as  it  is  in  your  power  to 
 aftbrd.  Arnot, 
 
 YOUTH— Retrospect  on. 
 
 The  retrospect  on  youth  is  too  often 
 like  looking  back  on  what  was  a  fair  and 
 promising  country;  but  is  now  desolated 
 by  an  overwhelming  torrent,  from  which 
 we  have  just  escaped. 
 
 Or  it  is  like  visiting  the  pjrave  of  a  friend 
 whom  we  had  injured,  and  are  precluded 
 by  his  death  from  the  possibility  of  making 
 him  an  atonement.  J.  Foster. 
 
 YOUTH— Transitory. 
 
 Youth  is  not  like  a  new  garment,  which 
 we  can  keep  fresh  and  fair  by  wearing 
 spariugly.  Youth,  while  have  it,  we  tmtsi 
 wear  daily,  and  it  will  fast  wear  away. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  ENERGY. 
 
 How  pi-ecious  a  thing  is  youthful  energy 
 if  only  it  could  be  preserved  entirely  en- 
 globed,  as  it  were,  within  the  bosom  of  the 
 young  adventurer,  till  he  can  come  and 
 offer  it  forth  a  sacred  emanation  in  yonder 
 temple  of  truth  and  virtue.  But  alas  !  all 
 along  as  he  goes  towards  it,  he  advances 
 through  an  avenue,  formed  by  a  long  line 
 of  tempters  and  demons  on  each  side,  all 
 prompt  to  touch  him  with  their  conductors, 
 and  draw  this  Divine  electric  element,  with 
 which  he  is  charged,  away.  Ibid. 
 
912 
 
 YOUTHFUL  PIETY— YOUTHFUL  VANITY. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  PIETY. 
 
 Zenzindorf,  when  a  boy,  used  to  write 
 little  notes  to  the  Saviour,  and  throw  them 
 out  of  the  window,  hoping  that  He  would 
 find  them  ;  such  were  his  thoughts  of  Jesus 
 and  his  love  to  Him.  Phelps. 
 
 The  first  breath  of  morn  is  sweeter  than 
 the  last  breath  of  evening.  The  earliest 
 snowdrop  is  lovelier  than  the  latest  rose. 
 As  the  first-fruits  of  the  ground,  and  the 
 firstlings  of  the  flock,  were  offered  up  to 
 the  Lord  in  the  olden  time,  so  off'er  up  to 
 Him  your  youthful  affections  and  your 
 youthful  service. 
 
 "  The  first,  the  first !— oh,  nought  like  it 
 Our  after  years  can  bring. 
 For  summer  liath  no  flowers  so  sweet 
 As  those  of  early  spring. 
 
 The  early  storm  that  strips  the  tree 
 Still  wildest  seems  and  worst ; 
 
 Whate'er  hath  been  again  may  be. 
 But  never  as  at  first."     G.  Mogridge. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  PIETY— Importance  of. 
 
 If  the  tree  is  permitted  to  grow  up  and 
 to  grow  old,  with  the  intention  of  making 
 it  new  then,  there  is  danger  lest  through 
 storms,  or  fire,  or  war,  it  may  be  suddenly 
 destroyed.  And  even  though  it  were  pro- 
 tected from  all  these  risks,  it  is  strange 
 that  any  one  should  deliberately  desire  that 
 the  soil  and  sun  and  air  should  be  en- 
 joyed by  that  tree,  and  wasted  in  bearing 
 bitter  fruit  all  the  days  of  its  strength, 
 and  only  made  a  good  tree  in  its  old  age, 
 when  it  scarcely  has  sap  sufficient  in  its 
 veins  to  bear  any  fruit  at  all.  See,  reader, 
 in  this  plain  parable,  how  foolish,  how 
 fidse,  how  blasphemous,  is  the  desire  that 
 throbs  cowardly  and  covertly  in  many 
 young  hearts,  to  waste  the  broad  sunny 
 surface  of  life  in  sin,  and  throw  a  narrow 
 stripe  of  its  withered,  rugged  edge  at  last 
 as  an  offering  to  God.  If  you  have  no  de- 
 sire to  be  good  and  do  good  throughout  the 
 life  on  earth  that  lies  before  you,  how  can 
 you  desire  to  be  good  and  do  good  in  the 
 eternity  that  lies  beyond  ?  Be  not  deceived. 
 He  who  is  weary  of  sin,  wants  to  be  quit  of  it 
 now,  and  instantly  to  enjoy  a  new  life.  He 
 who  says  he  wants  to  be  holy,  but  would 
 rather  put  off'  the  date  of  the  change,  lies 
 to  himself  and  to  the  world  and  to  God. 
 
 Ar)iot. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Be  it  a  weakness,  it  deserves  some  praise. 
 We  love  the  play  place  of  our  early  days; 
 Tlie   scene  is  touching,  and  the  heart  is 
 
 stone, 
 Tlia;  teels  not  at  that  sight,  and  feels  at 
 
 none. 
 
 The  wall  on  which  we  tried  our  graving 
 
 skill ; 
 The  very  name  we  carv'd  subsisting  still; 
 The  bench  on  which  we  sat  while  deep 
 
 employed. 
 Though  mangled,  hack'd,  and  hew'd,  not 
 
 yet  destroy'd ; 
 The  little  one's  unbuttoned,  glowing  hot. 
 Playing  our  games,  and  on  the  very  spot ; 
 As  happy  as  we  once,  to  kneel  and  draw 
 The  chalky  ring,  and  knuckle  down  at  taw ; 
 To  pitch  the  ball  into  the  grounded  hat. 
 Or  drive  it  devious  with  a  dextrous  pat; 
 The  pleasing  spectacle  at  once  excites 
 Such  recollections  of  our  own  delights, 
 That,  viewing  it,  we  seem  almost  to  ob- 
 tain 
 Our  innocent  sweet  simple  years  again. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  RELIGION. 
 
 It  is  an  old  saying,  Repentance  is  never 
 too  late;  but  it  is  a  true  saying.  Repen- 
 tance is  never  too  soon.  Therefore  we  are 
 commanded  to  run,  that  we  may  obtain ; 
 which  is  the  swiftest  pass  of  man.  The 
 cherubims  were  portrayed  with  wings  be- 
 fore the  place  where  the  IsraeHtes  prayed, 
 to  show  how  quickly  they  went  about  the 
 Lord's  business.  The  hound  which  runs 
 but  for  the  hart,  girds  forth  so  soon  as  he 
 sees  the  hart  start ;  the  hawk  which  flieth 
 but  for  the  partridge,  taketh  flight  so  soon 
 as  she  spieth  the  partridge  spring;  we 
 should  follow  the  Word  so  soon  as  it 
 speaketh,  and  come  to  our  Master  so  soon 
 as  He  calleth.  For  God  requiring  the 
 first-born  for  His  offering,  and  the  first- 
 fruits  for  His  service,  requireth  the  first 
 labours  of  His  servants,  and  (as  I  may  say) 
 the  maidenhead  of  every  man.  Therefore 
 so  soon  as  man  was  created,  a  law  was 
 given  him  to  show  that  he  should  live 
 under  obedience  from  the  day  that  he  was 
 born.  So  soon  as  he  is  born  he  is  I)ap- 
 tized  in  the  name  of  God,  to  show  that 
 when  we  cannot  run  to  Christ,  we  should 
 creep  unto  Him  and  serve  Him  as  we  can 
 in  youth  and  age.  So  soon  as  he  beginneth 
 to  pray  he  saith.  Thy  name  be  hallowed, 
 Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done, 
 before  he  asks  his  daily  bread,  to  show  that 
 we  should  seek  the  will  of  God,  belbre  the 
 food  which  we  live  by,  much  more  before 
 the  sins  and  pleasures  which  we  perish  by. 
 So  soon  as  the  Lord  distributed  the  talents 
 he  enjoined  His  servants  to  use  them.  Who 
 is  so  young  which  hath  not  received  some 
 talent  (5r  other  ?  therefore  youth  cannot 
 excuse  him,  because  the  talent  retjuires  to 
 be  asked  of  everyone  which  hath  it. 
 
 S.  Smith. 
 
 YOUTHFUL  VANITY. 
 
 The  youth,  wlio,  like  a  woman,  loves  to 
 adorn  his  person,  has  renounced  all  claim 
 
ZEAL. 
 
 913 
 
 to  wisdom  and  to  glory ;  glory  is  due  to 
 those  ouly  who  dare  to  associate  with  paiu, 
 and  have  trampled  pleasure  under  their 
 I'eet.  •  Fenelon. 
 
 ZE;1L— Constancy  of. 
 
 We  do  not  value  an  intermitting  spring 
 so  ranch  as  the  clear  brooklet  which  our 
 childhood  knew,  and  whiidi  has  laughed  on 
 its  course  unheeding,  and  which  could 
 never  be  persuaded  to  dry  up,  though  it 
 has  had  to  battle  against  the  scorchings  of 
 a  jubilee  of  summer's  suns.  We  do  not 
 guide  ourselves  by  the  glow-worm's  bead 
 of  light,  or  with  the  mar.sh-lamp's  fitful 
 flame.  No,  we  look  to  the  ancient  sun, 
 which  in  our  infauny  struggled  through 
 the  window  and  danced  upon  the  wall  of 
 the  nursery,  as  if  he  knew  how  much  we 
 delighted  to  see  him  light  up  the  flower- 
 cup  and  peep  through  the  shivering  leaf 
 And,  for  ourselves,  we  do  not  value  the 
 affection  of  a  stranger  awakened  by  some 
 casual  congeniality,  and  displayed  in  kindly 
 greeting  or  in  occasional  conrtesj'.  Our 
 wealth  is  in  the  patient  beariug,  and  the 
 unnoticed  deed,  and  the  anticipated  wish, 
 and  the  ready  sympathies,  which  make  a 
 summer  and  a  paradise  wherever  there  is 
 a  home.  And  not  only  in  the  natural  and 
 the  social  relations,  but  in  the  enterprise 
 of  the  world,  in  the  busy  activities  of  men, 
 the  necessity  for  uniformity  in  earnestness 
 is  reailily  acknowledged.  Society  very 
 soon  brands  a  man  if  he  has  not  gob  a  pier- 
 severance  as  well  as  an  earnestness  about 
 him.  Society  very  soon  puts  its  mark 
 upon  the  man  who  lodges  in  a  succession 
 of  Utopias,  the  unwearied  but  the  objectless 
 builder  who  never  roofs  his  house,  either 
 because  he  was  unable  to  finish,  or  because 
 some  more  brilliant  speculation  dazded  the 
 builder's  brain.  The  world  has  got  so 
 matter-of-fact  now  that  it  jostles  the  genius 
 off"  the  footpath,  while  the  plodder,  whose 
 eye  sparkles  less  brilliantly  but  more 
 evenly  and  longer,  steadily  proceeds  on  his 
 way  to  success.  IF.  M.  Panslooii. 
 
 ZEAL— Eefinition  of. 
 
 Zeal  may  be  defined  as  the  heat  or  fervor 
 of  the  mind,  prompting  its  vehemence  of 
 indignation  against  anything  which  it  con- 
 ceives to  be  evil — prompting  its  vehemence 
 of  desire  towards  anything  which  it 
 imagines  to  be  good.  In  itself  it  has  no 
 moral  character  at  all.  It  is  the  simple 
 instinct  of  energetic  nature,  never  wholly 
 divested  of  a  sort  of  rude  nobility,  and 
 never  destitute  of  influence  upon  the  lives 
 and  upon  the  characters  of  others.  The 
 word   "zeal  "  is  used  indiscriminately  in 
 
 scripture  in  order  to  denote  a  strong 
 feeling  of  the  mind,  whether  bent  upon 
 evil  design  or  on  cultivating  the  thiugs 
 which  are  of  good  report  and  lovely. 
 Hence  in  the  I7th  verse  of  the  5th  chapter 
 of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  we  read  that 
 "The  high  ])riest  and  they  that  were  with 
 him  were  filled  with  envy," — with  zeal,  as 
 it  is  in  the  original ;  while  in  the  Book  of 
 ISTumbers,  Phinehas  is  commended  for  the 
 zeal  with  which  he  rose  up  against  those 
 who  had  violated  the  law  of  tlie  Lord  ;  and 
 when  once,  just  once,  in  the  Redeemer's 
 incarnate  lite  His  disciples  saw  His  holy 
 indignation  burn  as  the  merchandise  whs 
 scattered  and  the  baffled  money  changers 
 driven  from  the  temple  they  had  profiined, 
 they  remembered,  the  place  where  it  is 
 written — "The  zeal  of  thy  h;iuse  hath 
 eaten  me  up."  W.  M.  Picnshon. 
 
 ZSAL— False. 
 
 A  false  zeal  in  religion  is  always,  in  some 
 respect  or  other,  a  misdirected  zeal,  or  a 
 zeal  not  according  to  knowledge — a  zeal 
 seeking  some  false  end,  or,  while  proposing 
 to  itself  a  good  end,  se^-king  its  prcmotic-n 
 in  some  unauthorised  way.  Jehu  had  a 
 good  zeal,  which  he  called  zeal  for  the 
 Lord  of  Hosts.  His  fault  was,  not  that 
 he  was  too  zealous,  but  that  his  zeal  was 
 really  directed  to  his  own  advancement. 
 The  Jews,  in  the  days  of  Christ,  had  a  zeal 
 for  God,  but  it  was  so  misdirected  as  to 
 fire  them  with  a  frenzy  to  destroy  the  Son 
 of  God  and  extinguish  the  Light  of  the 
 world.  There  are  countless  forms  of  false 
 zeal  now  at  work  ;  but  in  all  cases  they  sin 
 not  by  excess,  but  by  misdirection.  Some 
 are  flaming  with  a  zeal  to  spread  some  of 
 the  corruptions  of  Christianity,  and  to 
 carry  men  away  from  its  great  and  car- 
 dinal truths.  Some  are  equally  zealous  to 
 build  up  a  sect  or  a  party  on  other  founda- 
 tions than  those  which  God  has  laid  in 
 Zion  ;  and  that  which  taints  their  zeal  is 
 the  purpose  to  which  tliey  employ  it,  and 
 not  any  excessive  fervour  of  their  zeal 
 itself.  BorMi\ 
 
 ZEAL — Impatient. 
 
 There  are  some  Christians  very  efniest 
 to  do  good,  but  very  anxious  to  see  the 
 good — anxious  even  to  impatience.  They 
 ask  for  results,  they  search  for  results,  they 
 make  themselves  unhappy  and  sometimes 
 obtrusive  in  the  matter.  This  reminds  me 
 very  much  of  a  boy  who  was  anxious  to 
 have  a  little  wheat  field  in  one  corner  of 
 his  father's  garden.  He  preiiared  the  land 
 and  sowed  the  grain.  The  first  morning 
 came,  but  there  was  no  appe.arance  of 
 growth  ;  the  second,  and  it  was  the  same. 
 His  patience  was  put  to  the  test,  and  he 
 went  with  his  knife  or  the  rake  to  scratch 
 
914 
 
 ZEAI. 
 
 up  the  earth  to  see  if  the  seed  was  growing. 
 If  he  had  waited,  he  would  have  seen  the 
 result  of  his  labours  in  due  time.  The 
 effects  of  his  anxiety  retarded,  rather  than 
 helped  the  growth  of  the  seed.  In  patient 
 waiting  after  doing  his  duty  he  would  have 
 seen  the  blade  in  the  proper  time.  So 
 with  Christians,  let  thein  be  zealously 
 affected  to  do  good,  and  patiently  wait  for 
 results.  Their  impatience  will  have  a 
 greater  tendency  to  check  succe^^s  than  to 
 forward  it.  John  Bate. 
 
 ZEAL— Justifiable. 
 
 On  such  a  theme  't  were  impious  to  be  calm ; 
 Passion  is  reason,  transport  temxjer  here. 
 
 Young. 
 ZEAL— of  Paul, 
 
 Paul  was  emphatically  an  earnest  man. 
 David  and  Isaiah  were  perhaps  more  sub- 
 limely eloquent  men.  Elijah  was  clothed 
 with  a  more  awfully  miraculous  power. 
 Solomon  possessed  more  of  earthly  wisdom. 
 The  beloved  disciple  who  rested  on  the 
 bosom  of  our  Lord  had  a  more  heavenly 
 sweetness  of  temper.  But  in  the  zeal  that 
 confers  not  with  flesh  and  blood — the  zeal 
 that  rejoices  in  abundant  labours,  in  strijjes 
 above  measure,  in  weariness  and  watch- 
 fulness and  tears — the  zeal  that  counts  not 
 even  life  dear,  but  cries  out  exultingly, 
 "  I  am  ready  to  he  offered!" — in  this  the 
 great  apostle  outshone  them  all. 
 
 This  zeal  no  waters  could  quench.  No 
 Euroclydon  tempests  conld  fright  it.  No 
 prison  dungeons  or  royal  judgment-halls 
 could  shake  it.  No  labours  or  painful 
 watchings  could  -^'eary  it.  On  througli 
 every  dungeon  and  over  every  difficulty, 
 and  in  spite  <)f  every  obstacle  he  went  in 
 his  holy  mission,  and  became  even  "  all 
 things  to  all  men,"  if  by  any  means  he 
 might  allure  them  up  to  those  heights  of 
 serene  joy  on  which  his  own  soul  was  ever 
 uasking. 
 
 The  examples  of  his  zeal  that  are  given 
 in  the  holy  record  are  not  isolated  instances 
 in  a  life  of  sluggishness.  They  were  the 
 fruits  of  a  spiritual  fervour  so  great,  that, 
 if  seen  but  on  one  occasion,  they  might 
 have  appeared  to  be  the  overtlow  of  a  mo- 
 mentary enthusiasm  ;  but  the  regularity 
 and  constancy  of  their  occurrence,  showed 
 them  to  be  but  the  customary  and  natural 
 actings  of  a  soul  always  impelled  by  the 
 same  living  and  lofty  principle, — so  that 
 his  every-day  efforts  more  than  equalled 
 the  extraordinary,  and,  as  it  were,  spasmo- 
 dic, efforts  of  mere  enthusiasts. 
 
 "  When  I  reach  heaven,"  said  an  aged 
 saint,  just  then  descending  the  Delectable 
 Mountains,  "  I  shall  love  to  talk  with  the 
 apostle  Paul."  This  M'as  natural  and 
 beautiful.  It  was  not  strange  that  the  old 
 pilgrim  whose  life  struggle  was  nearly 
 over,  and  who  was  just  about  exchanging 
 
 the  cross  for  the  crown,  should  long  for 
 communion  with  that  glorified  saint  who 
 had  withstood  so  many  trials  and  borne 
 so  many  stripes,  and,  if  it  be  one  occu- 
 pation of  heaven  to  talk  of  things  below, 
 to  hear  him  tell  how  in  his  Master's 
 strength  he  had  confronted  Grecian  elo- 
 quence on  the  hill  of  Mars — how  he  had 
 stood  before  Cffisar  unappalled — how  he 
 had  risen  from  his  bed  in  the  midnight 
 dungeon  to  sing  praises  to  God — and  how 
 he  had  cast  off  the  weeping  brethren  from 
 his  neck,  and  cried  aloud,  "  Behold,  I 
 go  bound  in  the  spirit  to  Jerusalem,  not 
 knowing  the  things  that  shall  befall  me 
 there." 
 
 Oh,  for  such  a  voice  again  on  earth,  to 
 arouse  tiie  slumbering  Church,  and  to  lead 
 her  forth  to  a  second,  and,  we  trust,  the 
 final  contest  for  the  dominion  of  the  world  ! 
 With  a  higher  meaning  may  we  apply  to 
 him  the  noble  lines  in  which  Wordsworth 
 invokes  the  return  of  the  patriot  Milton, 
 and  say  to  the  great  apostle, — • 
 
 "  Thou  shouldst  be  living  at  this  hour ! 
 The  WORLD  hath  need  of  thee.     We  are 
 
 selfish  men; 
 Oh,  raise  us  up ;  return  to  us  again. 
 And  teach  us  duty,  virtue,  freedom,  power. 
 Thy  soul  was  like  a  star  and  dwelt  apart; 
 Thou  hadst  a  voice  ivhose  sound  ivas  like 
 
 t/ie  sea. 
 Pure  as  the  naked  heavens,  majestic,  free. 
 So  didst  thou  travel  on  life's  common  way 
 In  cheerful  godliness;  and  yet  thy  heart 
 The  lo\\  liest  duties  on  herself  did  lay." 
 
 Ci'yler. 
 
 ZEAL— Too  Much. 
 
 An  Indian  having  heard  from  a  white 
 man  some  strictures  on  zeal,  replied,  "  I 
 don't  know  about  having  too  much  zeal, 
 but  I  think  it  is  better  the  pot  should  boil 
 over,  than  not  boil  at  all."  Anon. 
 
 ZEAL— True. 
 
 Let  us  take  heed  we  do  not  sometimes 
 call  that  zeal  for  God  and  His  Gospel  which 
 is  nothing  else  but  our  own  tempestuous 
 and  stormy  passion.  True  zeal  is  a  sweet, 
 heavenly,  and  gentle  flame,  which  maketh 
 us  active  for  God,  but  always  within  the 
 sphere  of  love.  It  never  calls  for  fire  from 
 heaven  to  consume  those  that  differ  a  little 
 from  us  in  their  apprehensions.  It  is  like 
 that  kind  of  lightning  (which  philosophers 
 sjieak  of)  that  melts  the  sword  within, 
 but  singeth  not  the  scabbard  ;  it  strives 
 to  save  the  soul,  but  hurteth  not  the  body. 
 Cudwo7'th. 
 
 True  zeal  is  an  it/nis  lamheus,  a  soft 
 and  gentle  flame,  that  will  not  scorch  one's 
 hand.  laid. 
 
ZEAL. 
 
 915 
 
 True  zeal  Is  like  the  vital  heat  in  us  that 
 we  live  upon,  which  we  never  feel  to  be 
 angry  or  troublesome.  Cudworth. 
 
 Our  zeal,  if  it  be  heavenly,  if  it  be  true 
 vestal  fire  kindled  from  above,  will  not  de- 
 light to  tarry  here  below,  burning  up 
 straw  and  stubble  and  such  combustible 
 things,  and  sending  up  nothing  but  gross 
 earthly  flames  to  heaven ;  but  it  will  rise 
 up  and  return  back  pure  as  it  came  down, 
 and  will  be  ever  striving  to  carry  up  men's 
 hearts  to  God  along  with  it.  Ihid. 
 
 ZEAL— Youthful. 
 
 With  all  the  zeal 
 Wliich  young  and  fiery  converts  feel, 
 Within  whose  heated  bosoms  throngs 
 The  memory  of  a  thousand  wrongs. 
 
 Lord  Byron. 
 
 ZEAL— of  the  World  and  the  Church. 
 
 If  it  is  necessary  for  the  world  to  be  so 
 zealous  in  the  use  of  means,  ordinary  and 
 extraordinary,  for  securing  the  attendance 
 of  men  to  its  scenes  of  amusements,  com- 
 panies, places  of  pleasure,  and  marts  of 
 merchandise,  for  which  they  possess  an 
 innate  inclination  and  bias,  how  much  more 
 necessary  is  it  for  the  Church  to  be  zealous 
 in  the  use  of  all  possible  means  to  gain 
 men  to  the  higher  things  of  religion,  to- 
 wards which  they  have  an  innate  antipathy 
 and  aversion  ?  John  Bate. 
 
 ZEAL  (Christian)— Definition  of. 
 
 Christian  zeal  is  an  earnest  and  ardent 
 disposition  of  heart  for  the  promotion  of 
 all  the  interests  of  vital  Christianity. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 ZEAL  (Christian)— Motives  of. 
 
 1.  The  command  of  Christ,  "  Be  zeal- 
 ous." 
 
 2.  The  example  of  Christ. 
 
 3.  The  love  of  Christ  in  the  heart. 
 
 4.  The  examples  of  holy  apostles  and 
 Christians. 
 
 5.  The  personal  advantages  derived 
 from  it. 
 
 6.  The  good  which  it  may  accomplish. 
 
 7.  The  commendation  which  is  given  of 
 it,  and  its  examples  in  the  Scriptures. 
 
 Ihid. 
 
 ZEAL  (Christian)— Objects  of. 
 
 1.  The  salvation  of  the  soul  of  him  who 
 is  the  subject  of  it. 
 
 2.  The  house  of  the  Lord  in  its  worship, 
 its  word,  its  attendance. 
 
 3.  Promotion  of  family  religion. 
 
 4.  The  conversion  of  sinners. 
 
 5.  The  general  welfare  of  all  the  means, 
 ordinances,  and  institutions  of  the  Church. 
 
 6.  Whatever  concerns  the  real  welfare 
 of  mankind.  Ibid. 
 
 ZEAL  (Christian)— Obligation  to. 
 
 1.  The  value  of  personal  salvation. 
 
 2.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  its 
 exercise. 
 
 3.  The  duties  and  privileges  of  religion. 
 
 4.  The  claims  of  the  Church. 
 
 5.  The  condition  of  the  world. 
 
 6.  The  glory  of  Christ.  John  Bate. 
 
 ZEAL  (Christian)— Regulation  of. 
 
 1.  It  should  be  guided  by  charity. 
 
 2.  By  the  wisdom  which  cometh  from 
 above. 
 
 3.  By  a  due  regard  to  times,  circum- 
 stances, places,  and  persons. 
 
 4.  By  the  relative  claims  of  each  ob- 
 ject. 
 
 5.  By  an  aim  to  the  glory  of  God. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 ZEAL  AND  DISCRETION. 
 
 Zeal  and  discretion  united  together  are 
 like  the  two  lions  which  supported  the 
 throne  of  Solomon,  and  he  which  hath 
 them  both,  is  like  Moses  for  mildness,  and 
 like  Phineas  for  his  service;  therefore,  as 
 wine  is  tempered  with  water,  so  let  dis- 
 cretion temper  zeal.  Henry  Smith. 
 
 ZEAL  WITHOUT  KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Zeal  without  knowledge  is  like  fir*' with- 
 out a  grate  to  contain  it ;  like  a  sword  with- 
 out a  hilt  to  wield  it  by;  like  a  high  bred 
 horse  without  a  bridle  to  guide  him.  Zeal 
 without  knowledge  speaks  without  think- 
 ing, acts  without  planning,  seeks  to  ac- 
 complish a  good  end  without  the  adoption 
 of  becoming  means.  It  often  does  one 
 thing  when  it  should  have  done  another. 
 It  is  boasting,  vain,  self-righteous,  stub- 
 born ;  it  goes  about  seeking  to  establish  its 
 own  righteousness,  not  having  submitted 
 to  the  righteousness  of  God.       John  Bate. 
 
 ZEAL  FOR  SOULS. 
 
 Some  winters  ago  two  friends  were  tra- 
 velling in  Lapland.  To  protect  them- 
 selves against  the  extreme  rigor  of  the 
 season,  they  had  enveloped  tliemselves  in 
 thick  foldings  of  garments,  and  were  well 
 wrapped  in  fur.  Notwithstanding  all  these 
 precautions  the  cold  was  almost  insuff'er- 
 able.  In  the  course  of  their  journey  through 
 one  of  the  glens  of  that  country,  they  per- 
 ceived the  body  of  a  man  nearly  covered 
 with  snow.  When  they  reached  him  he 
 appeared  frost-bitten  and  dead.  What 
 was  to  be  done  ?  They  were  both  enfeebled 
 by  the  frost,  breathing  an  atmosphere  of 
 snow,  and  shivering  with  the  cold.  One 
 of  the  travellers  proposed,  that,  as  they 
 could  do  the  frost-bitten  man  no  good, 
 they  shoidd  leave  him,  and  make  the  best 
 of  their  way  to  the  distant  inn.  The 
 other  felt  the  spark  of  compassionate 
 benevolence   kindling  in  his    breast,    and 
 
916 
 
 ZEALOTS— ZEST. 
 
 l)PS-:m  the  work  of  restoring  animation, 
 while  his  coinpanion  shivered  and  sliuddored 
 on  to  the  distant  village.  His  eflbrts  were 
 at  first  very  feehle,  hut  as  he  persevered  he 
 became  warm.  His  benevolent  labour  was 
 crowned  with  success — animation  was  re- 
 stored, and  a  "  soul  was  saved  from  death." 
 How  pure  and  solid  was  his  joy !  He  had 
 saved  a  man  from  dying,  and  in  the  glorious 
 ed'ort  he  had  benefited  himself.  By  his 
 benevolent  activity  he  had  restored  a 
 healtliy  glow  in  his  own  system,  and  then 
 continued  his  journey,  not  trembling  and 
 shivering,  but  brisk  with  the  imjiulse  of 
 generous  spirits,  and  with  the  dignified 
 port,  and  the  cheerful  step  of  a  man  that 
 had  done  good.  At  the  inn,  which  of  these 
 travellers  would  my  readers  wish  to  have 
 been  ?  Go,  and  do  likewise  !  There  is  a 
 world  before  you  ready  to  perish.  The 
 Holy  Spirit  says  you  can  save  it  from  Death. 
 You  feel  weak  only  from  your  own  cold- 
 ness and  apathy.  Make  the  attempt,  con- 
 tinue the  eflbrt,  and  your  own  life-blood 
 will  glow  with  a  more  healthy  vigour,  and 
 your  own  frame  will  be  cheered  with  a 
 more  generous  vitality,  and  ransomed  souls 
 will  live  and  bloom  in  the  crown  of  your 
 rejoicing.  Dr.  T.  W.  Jenhyn. 
 
 ZEALOTS— Graceless. 
 
 For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots 
 
 fight ; 
 He  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right. 
 In  faith  and  hope  the  world  will  disagree. 
 But  all  mankind's  conceru  is  charity. 
 
 ZEST— Description  of. 
 
 But  what  is  zest  ?  To  describe  it  by  its 
 oppositcs  :  it  is  the  contrary  of  phlegmatic 
 apathy  ;  it  is  the  contrary  of  littleness  and 
 of  indifference,  and  of  dulness  of  apprehen- 
 sion, and  of  sluggishness  and  slowness  of 
 the  faculties.  Zest  is  a  plant  which 
 flourishes  in  the  country  :  it  does  not  grow 
 well  in  a  gavden-pot  in  cities.  The  town 
 substitute  for  zest  is  excitement :  but  you 
 are  not  likely  to  mistake  the  one  for  the 
 othei',  and  you  may  know  them  by  this 
 mark;  zest  is  awake  tov/ard  all  things, 
 even  the  dullest.  Excitement  wakes  up  only 
 at  the  shrill  call  of  things  new  and  strange. 
 Zest  imparts  a  relish  to  things  that  are 
 not  the  most  sapid.  Excitement  asks  for 
 larger  mid  larger  doses  of  cayenne,  what- 
 ever it  may  be  that  i*  on  table. 
 
 I.  Ta!/lor. 
 
NAMES   OF   AUTHOES   QUOTED. 
 
 Adams  Eev.  N. 
 Adams  Rev.  T. 
 Adams  Rev.  Dr. 
 Adams  J.  G. 
 Addison  J. 
 
 ^SCYLUS. 
 
 Akenside  M. 
 Akroyd  Rev.  T. 
 Alexander  Rev.  Dr.  W.  L. 
 Aleyn,  C. 
 Alford,  Dean. 
 Alleine  Rev.  J. 
 Allison  A. 
 Allon  Rev.  H. 
 Ambrose  Rev.  I. 
 Ambrose  St. 
 Anacreon. 
 
 Anderson  Rev.  Dr.  W. 
 Anderson  J.  S.  M. 
 Antisthenes. 
 Antonius  M. 
 Aeminius  Dr.  J. 
 Armstrong  Dr.  J. 
 Arndt  Rev.  J. 
 Arnold  Rev.  Dr. 
 Arnot  Rev.  W. 
 Arnott  Dr. 
 Arrowsmith  Rev.  Dr, 
 Arthur  Rev.  W. 
 Arthur  T.  S. 
 Arvine  Rev.  K. 
 Athelstane. 
 Atterbury  Bp. 
 Augustine  St. 
 AusoNius. 
 Bacon  Lord 
 Bacon  W.  T. 
 Bailey  H. 
 Bailey  P.  J. 
 Baillie  Joanna. 
 Baines  E. 
 
 Balfour  Rev.  J.  H. 
 Balkam  W. 
 Balfern  Rev.  W.  P. 
 Balguy  Rev.  J. 
 Bankes  T. 
 Baebauld  Mrs. 
 
 Baeford  T. 
 Barnard  Mrs. 
 Barnes  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 Barrett  Rev.  A. 
 Barrow  Rev.  Dr. 
 Bartas  W.  De  S.  Du. 
 Bartholin  A. 
 Barton  B. 
 Barton  R. 
 Basil  St. 
 
 Bates  Rev.  Dr.  W. 
 Bates  D. 
 Bathurst  W.  H. 
 Batty  T. 
 
 Baumgarten  Prof.  M. 
 Baxter  R. 
 Bayne  p. 
 Bkattie  Dr. 
 Beaumont  Sir  J. 
 I    Beaumont  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Beaumont  Rev.  J. 
 I    Beard  Rev.  Dr. 
 Bebbington  W. 
 Becon  Rev.  T. 
 Beddome  B. 
 Bedell  Rev.  Dr. 
 Beecher  Rev.  H.  "W. 
 Bell  G.  M. 
 Bellew  Rev.  J.  C  M. 
 Bengel  J.  A. 
 Bennett  Rev.  Dr. 
 Benson  Rev.  J. 
 Bentham  T. 
 Benton  Hon.  F. 
 Bernard  St. 
 Bernard  C. 
 Beveridge  Bp. 
 Bickeesteth  Rev.  F. 
 Bigg  J.  S. 
 BiNNEY  Rev.  T. 
 Blackie  Professor. 
 Blaikie  W.  G. 
 Blair  Rev.  Dr. 
 Blakey  J. 
 Blanchard  L. 
 Boardman  Rev.  W.  E. 
 Bogatzky  C.  H.  V. 
 
918 
 
 NAMES   OF   AUTHORS   QUOTED. 
 
 BOLINGBROKE  Loi'd. 
 
 Bolton  Dean. 
 Bolton  Rev.  J. 
 Bolton  Rev.  R. 
 BoNAR  Rov.  Dr. 
 
 BONHOMME  S. 
 
 BoNNETT  Rev.  C. 
 Booth  Rev.  A. 
 Boston  Rev.  T. 
 
 BoSWELL  J. 
 
 Bowes  Rev.  G.  S. 
 BowRiNG  Dr. 
 BovvRiNG  Sir  J. 
 Boyd  Rev.  A.  K.  H. 
 Boyle  Hon.  J. 
 Bremer  IVIiss  F. 
 Brent  J. 
 Brewster  Sir  D'. 
 Bridge  Rev.  W. 
 Bridges  Rev.  C. 
 Brissot  J.  P. 
 Brock  Rev.  W.  J. 
 Brooks  Rev.  T. 
 Brown  R. 
 Brown  Rev.  R. 
 Brown  Rev.  J.  B. 
 Brown  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 Brow:<e  Bp. 
 Browning  Miss  E.  B. 
 Brougham  Lord. 
 Bruyere  J.  De  La> 
 Bryant  W.  C. 
 Buck  Rev.  C. 
 Buchanan  C. 
 Buckingham  Duke  of.. 
 Buchsel  Dr. 
 
 BULWTIR  H. 
 
 Bunting  Rev.  Dr. 
 Bunyan  John. 
 Burgess  Rev.  Anthony. 
 Burke  E. 
 Burns  Rev.  Dr. 
 Burroughs  Rev.  J. 
 Burton  Rev.  R. 
 BusHNALL  Rev.  Dr.  H. 
 Butlkr  S. 
 Butler  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 Butler  Bp. 
 Buxton  Sir  F. 
 Byron  Lord. 
 Caird  Rev.  J. 
 Calmet  M. 
 Calvin  J. 
 Cameron  Rev.  Andrew. 
 
 Campbell  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 Campbell  T. 
 Capel  Lord. 
 Carlisle  Lord. 
 Carlyle  T. 
 Caryl  Rev.  J. 
 Caunter  Rev.  H. 
 Caussin  N. 
 Cecil  Rev.  R. 
 Chambers  Rev.  Dr. 
 Chambers  A.  W. 
 Champneys  Rev.  W.  W. 
 Chandler  J. 
 
 Channing  Rev.  Dr.  W.  E. 
 Chapin  Rev.  Dr.  E.  H. 
 Chapman  G. 
 Chaplin  Rev.  J. 
 Charnock  Rev.  S. 
 Charron  R.  de. 
 Cheever  Rev.  Dr. 
 Chesterfield  Lord. 
 Child  Mrs. 
 Chrysostom  St. 
 Churchill  C. 
 Clarendon  Lord. 
 Clark  Rev.  Dr.  W.  D, 
 Clarke  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 Clarkson  Rev.  D. 
 Clay  H. 
 
 Clinton  de  Witt. 
 Close  Dean. 
 CoBBE  Miss. 
 CoBBiN  Rev.  I. 
 Cockton  H. 
 Coleridgk  S.  T. 
 Coles  Rev.  G. 
 CoLEY  Rev.  S. 
 Collier  J. 
 CoLTON  Rev.  C. 
 CoNDER  Rev.  G.  W. 
 
 CONDER  J. 
 
 Cook  Eliza 
 Cooke  W. 
 Cope  Rev.  R. 
 Cornwall  B. 
 Cotton  N. 
 CouLiN  Rev.  Dr.  F. 
 Cousin  V. 
 Cowley  A. 
 Cowper  W. 
 Crabb  Rev.  G. 
 Crabbe  G. 
 Crashaw  R. 
 Creech. 
 
NAMES    OF    AUTHORS    QUOTED. 
 
 919 
 
 Croly  Rev.  Dr. 
 Cbouch  J. 
 Crude N  A. 
 
 CuDWORTH  Rev.  Dr.  R. 
 CuLROSs  Rev.  J. 
 CuLVERWELL  Rev.  K. 
 Cumberland  R. 
 CuMMiNG  Rev.  Dr. 
 Cunningham  Rev.  J.  \i. 
 CuRZON  Hon.  S. 
 CuYLER  Rev.  T.  L. 
 Dale  T. 
 Dana  M.  S.  B. 
 Daniel  S.  H. 
 Darley  J.  R. 
 Darwin  Dr.  E. 
 
 D'AuBiGNE  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Davies  Rev.  Presideut. 
 
 Davies  Rev.  Edwin. 
 
 Davies  Sir  J. 
 .  Davy  Sir  H. 
 
 Dawes  J. 
 
 Day  Rev.  Dr.  M. 
 
 Delany  p. 
 
 Demosthenes. 
 
 Denton  B. 
 
 Derham  Rev.  W. 
 
 Dick  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Dick  Dr.  T. 
 
 Dickens  C. 
 
 DiNNiES  Mrs. 
 
 Diogenes. 
 
 DiONYSIUS. 
 DOBELL  S. 
 
 Doddridge  Rev.  Dr. 
 Donne  Rev.  Dr. 
 DooLiTTLE  Rev.  T. 
 DnRAN  Rev.  J.  W. 
 Drexelius  J. 
 Dryden  J. 
 D WIGHT  Rev.  Dr. 
 Eddy  Rev.  Dr. 
 Edgeworth  Miss. 
 Edmeston  J. 
 Edmond  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 Edmunston  J. 
 Edwards  C. 
 Edwards  Rev.  Jonatlian. 
 
 Ellicott  Bp. 
 
 Elliott  C. 
 
 Elliott  Rev.  W.  H. 
 
 Emerson  K  W. 
 
 Epicurus. 
 
 Erskine  Rev.  R. 
 
 Euripides. 
 Evans  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 Evans  Rev.  J.  H. 
 
 EVREMOND  St. 
 
 Eyre  Rev.  C.  J.  P. 
 Faber  Rev.  Dr.  F.  W. 
 Farindon  Rev.  A. 
 Farrar  Rev.  J. 
 Farre  Dr. 
 Feltham  Owen. 
 Fenelon  Archbiphop. 
 Ferguson  Rev.  Dr.  R. 
 Finney  Rev.  C.  G. 
 FisK  Rev.  Dr.  W. 
 Flavel  Rev.  J. 
 Fletcher  Mrs. 
 Fletcher  Rev.  J. 
 Flockhart  R. 
 FooTE  A.  L.  R. 
 Ford  Rev.  D.  E. 
 Ford  John 
 Foster  J. 
 Franklin  B. 
 Frost  Prof.  J. 
 Fry  Mrs. 
 
 Fuller  Rev.  Dr.  T. 
 !    Fuller  Rev.  A. 
 i    Garth  Sir  S. 
 j    Gasparin  Madame  de. 
 1    Gaston  Judge. 
 I    Gaussen  Professor. 
 Gay  J. 
 Gibbon  E. 
 Gibbons  T. 
 Giles  Rev.  H. 
 '    GiLFiLLAN  Rev-  George. 
 Gilpin  H. 
 GisBORNE  Rev.  T. 
 Glenalvon. 
 Goethe  J.  W. 
 Goldsmith  0. 
 GooDE  Dean. 
 Goodman  Dr. 
 Goodrich  S.  G. 
 Goodwin  Rev.  Dr.  T. 
 Gordon  Dr,  R. 
 
 GOSSNEE  J- 
 GOTTHOLD. 
 
 Gouge  Rev.  T. 
 GOUGH  J.  B. 
 GouLBUEN  Rev.  Dr. 
 Gray  T. 
 Gregory  Pope. 
 Gregory  St. 
 
020 
 
 ICAMES    OF    AUTHOKS    QrOTED. 
 
 Gresley  Prof. 
 Gbeville  Sir  F. 
 Grosart  Eev.  A. 
 Gbotius. 
 Grove  Professor. 
 GuRNALL  Rev.  \Y. 
 Gurney  J.  J. 
 Guthrie  Rev.  Dr. 
 GuYON  Madame. 
 
 GUYSE  J. 
 
 Hale  Mrs. 
 
 Hale  Sir  M. 
 
 Halford  Sir  H. 
 
 Haliburton  Judge. 
 
 Hall  Bp. 
 
 Hall  Rev.  R. 
 
 Hall  Rev.  N. 
 
 Hall  Dr. 
 
 Hall  A. 
 
 Hasiilton  Rev.  P. 
 
 Hamiltiin  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Hajiilton  Rev.  Dr.  E.  W. 
 
 Hamilton  A. 
 
 Hanna  Rev.  Dr.  W. 
 
 Hannah  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Hare  Arclideaeon. 
 
 Harris  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Hargrave  C. 
 
 Hartmann  J. 
 
 Havard  "VY. 
 
 Haven  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Haweis  T. 
 
 HAVi^KiNs  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Hawkins  Sir  J. 
 Hazlitt  W. 
 Headley  Rev.  P.  C. 
 Eeber  Bp. 
 Heinzelmann. 
 Hemans  Mrs. 
 Henry  Rev.  P. 
 Henry  Rev.  M, 
 Henshaw  Bp. 
 Herbert  Lord. 
 Herbert  Rev.  G. 
 Herrick  R. 
 Hervey  G.  W. 
 Hervey  T.  K. 
 Hervey  Rev.  J. 
 Herschel  Sir  J. 
 Hewlett  Rev.  Dr. 
 Hiebard  Rev.  Dr.  F.  G. 
 Hill  Rev.  R. 
 Higgons  B. 
 Hill  A. 
 
 Hinds  Bp. 
 Hinds  Dr.  W. 
 Hlne  J. 
 Hi  N  ton  J. 
 
 Hitchcock  Professor. 
 Hoadley  Bp. 
 
 HOBBES   T. 
 
 Hodge  Rev.  A.  A. 
 HoGE  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 H0DGS(JN  W. 
 
 HoLDicH  Rev.  Dr. 
 HoLFORD  Miss. 
 Holmes  Dr.  0.  W. 
 Holmes  Rev.  ^^•. 
 Home  J. 
 Homer. 
 Hood  T. 
 Hood  Rev  E.  P. 
 Hooker  Rev.  R. 
 Hopkins  Bp. 
 Horace. 
 HoRNE  Bp. 
 
 HoRNECK  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 
 HORSLEY  Bp. 
 
 Howard  Dr. 
 Howe  Rev.  J. 
 
 HOWELS  J. 
 
 Houghton  W. 
 Hov/iTT  Mary. 
 
 HoVt'ITT  W. 
 
 HowsoN  Rev.  Dr. 
 Hudson  H.  N. 
 Hughes  Rev.  T. 
 Hughes  T. 
 Hughes  J.  G. 
 HuLME  Rev.  S. 
 Humboldt  Baron. 
 Hume  D. 
 Hunt  R. 
 Huntingdon  "W. 
 HuRDis  Dr. 
 
 HuRNDALL  Rev.  Dr.  W.  F. 
 Hutchinson  Rev.  J. 
 Irving  Rev.  E. 
 Irving  Washington. 
 Jackson  Bp. 
 Jackson  Rev.  Dr.  T. 
 Jackson  Rev.  T. 
 Jacob  Mnjor. 
 James  Rev.  J.  A. 
 Jameson  Mrs. 
 Jay  Rev.  W. 
 Jkffery  R.  T. 
 Jeffers  Rev.  Dr. 
 
NAMES   or    AUTHOrvS    QUOTED. 
 
 921 
 
 JSFFERSON  T. 
 
 Jenkyn  Kev.  Dr.  T.  W. 
 
 Jerome. 
 
 Jereold  Douglas. 
 
 Jewell  Bp. 
 
 JoBSON  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Johnson  Dr. 
 
 Johnson  C. 
 
 JuHNSON  Jos. 
 
 JoNKs  Rev.  W. 
 
 Jones  Rev.  T. 
 
 Jones  Sir  W. 
 
 Johnson  B. 
 
 JORTIN  Dr.  J. 
 
 Kaimks  Lord. 
 
 Keach  Rev.  B. 
 
 Keats  J. 
 
 Keble  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 KiDD  Dr.  J. 
 
 King  Dr. 
 
 King  Rev.  T.  S.  . 
 
 King  Rev.  Dr.  H. 
 
 Kingsley  Rev.  C. 
 
 Kitchen  Rev.  J. 
 
 KiTTo  Dr. 
 
 Knight  C. 
 
 Knox  J. 
 
 Kossuth. 
 
 Krummachee  Rev.  Dr.  F.  YL 
 
 Lamb  C. 
 
 Lamennais  a. 
 
 Land  ELS  Rev.  W. 
 
 Landis  Rev.  R.  W. 
 
 Landon  L.  E. 
 
 Laepant  Sir  G. 
 
 Latimee  Bp. 
 
 Lavater  J.  C. 
 
 Lavington  Rev.  S. 
 
 Lawson  Rev.  G. 
 
 Ledyaed  J. 
 
 Lee  Dr.  S. 
 
 Leechman  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Leighton  Archbishop. 
 
 Leo  Pope. 
 
 Lessing  Professor. 
 ,  Lkwis  Rev.  W.  H. 
 
 Leupolt  C.  B. 
 Lightfoot  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 LiMBORCH  Rev.  P. 
 Linwood  M. 
 Locke  J. 
 Longden  H. 
 Longfellow  H.  W. 
 Love  Rev.  C. 
 
 Lucas  Rev.  Dr.  R. 
 Lucretius. 
 Luther  M. 
 Lynch  Rev.  T.  T. 
 Macarius. 
 M'Caul  Rev.  Dr. 
 Macaulay  Lord. 
 Macculloch  Rev.  J.  M.  I'. 
 Macdonald  Rev.  W. 
 Macduff  Rev.  J.  R- 
 M'Cheyne  Rev.  R.  M. 
 Mackensie  Rev.  W. 
 Mackintosh  Sir  J. 
 Mackintosh  M. 
 Maclagan  Alex. 
 ]\L*.CLAURiN  Rev.  J. 
 Maclean  Rev.  J. 
 MACLEOD  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 M'Clintock  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 M'Nule  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 M'Cosh  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 M'Ceie  Rev.  Dr.  T. 
 
 Madan  M. 
 
 Magoon  E.  L. 
 
 Mallet  D. 
 
 Malcolm  Sir  J. 
 
 Mansfield  Lord. 
 
 Mant  Bp. 
 
 Manton  Rev.  Dr.  T. 
 
 Mar  Helen. 
 
 Marston  J. 
 
 Martin  Rev.  S. 
 
 Martin  F. 
 
 Martin  L. 
 
 Martyn  Rev.  H. 
 
 Marvel  I. 
 
 Mason  Rev.  J. 
 
 Massillon  Bp. 
 
 Massinger  p. 
 
 Maunder  S. 
 
 Mauey  Lieut. 
 
 Medhurst  W.  H. 
 
 Melancthon  p. 
 
 Mellen  G. 
 !    Melvill  Rev.  H. 
 Merry  Rev.  C.  M. 
 Middleton  C. 
 Miley  Rev.  J. 
 Miller  Hugh. 
 Milman  H.  H. 
 MiLNER  Rev.  T.  F. 
 Milner  Rev.  Dr. 
 Milton  J. 
 Mitchel  0.  M. 
 
922 
 
 MxTFOED  Miss. 
 MoBERLEY  Rev.  Dr.  G. 
 
 MOGRIDGE  G. 
 
 MoNOD  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 MoNSELL  Rev.  Dr. 
 Monro  Rev.  E. 
 Montague  Hon.  Mrs. 
 Montgomery  J. 
 Montgomery  Rev.  R. 
 Montesquieu  Baron. 
 Moore  Sir  J. 
 Moore  Sir  T. 
 Moore  T. 
 Moore  S.  J. 
 More  Hannah. 
 More  Dr.  H. 
 Morgan  Dr. 
 Morris  J. 
 Muller  Prof. 
 MiJLLER  Rev.  H. 
 Myers  F. 
 Nabb  T. 
 Kalton  J. 
 Neal  J. 
 N EAVES  Lord. 
 Neff  Felix. 
 Nevins  Rev.  Dr.  V7. 
 Newman  J.  H. 
 Newton  Rev.  Dr.  R. 
 Newton  Rev.  J. 
 NicHoL  Rev.  R.  B. 
 NicHOLLS  Rev.  B.  E. 
 Nicholson  W. 
 Norris  W. 
 Nottidge  J.  T. 
 
 Olin  Rev.  Dr.  S. 
 
 O'Nkil  Rev.  W. 
 
 Opie  Mrs. 
 
 Osborn  Rev.  Dr.  G. 
 
 Osborne  T. 
 
 Otway  T. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 Owen  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Owen  Rev.  J.  B. 
 
 Owgan  H. 
 
 OusELEY  Rev.  Gideon. 
 
 OxENDEN  Rev.  A. 
 
 Paley  Archdeacon. 
 
 Palmer  Rev.  R. 
 
 Palmer  Rev.  J. 
 
 Parker  Archbishop. 
 
 Parker  Theodore. 
 
 Parker  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 
 Pascal  Blaise. 
 
 NAMES  OF  AUTHORS  QUOTED. 
 
 B. 
 
 s.  n. 
 
 Patrick  Bp. 
 Patterson  Rev.  J. 
 Paul  St. 
 Paulding  J.  K. 
 Paysox  Rev.  Dr.  E. 
 Pearson  Bp. 
 Pearson  Rev.  T. 
 Penn  W. 
 Perkins  Rev.  "W. 
 Perthes  F. 
 Phelps  Rev.  A. 
 Philip  Rev.  M.  E. 
 Philips  Rev.  C.  R. 
 Phillips  J. 
 Pierre  St. 
 Pitt  W. 
 Planche  J.  R. 
 Plato. 
 Platt  Rev. 
 Plautus. 
 Pliny. 
 Plutarch, 
 polhill  e. 
 
 POLLOK  R. 
 POLYBIUS. 
 
 Pomfret  J. 
 Pope  Alex. 
 PoRsoN  Prof. 
 Porteus  Bp. 
 Power  Rev.  P.  B. 
 Pratt  Rev.  J. 
 Prentice  G.  D. 
 Prideaux  Dean. 
 Prince  Albert. 
 Prince  P. 
 Prior  M. 
 Proctor  A.  A. 
 
 Psalmist. 
 
 Pulsford  Rev.  J. 
 
 Punshon  Rev.  W.  M. 
 
 Quarles  F. 
 
 Racine  J. 
 
 Ragg  Rev.  T. 
 
 Raikes  R. 
 
 Raleigh  Rev.  A. 
 
 Raileigh  Sir  W. 
 
 Ramsay  Rev.  E.  B. 
 
 Ramsay  A. 
 
 Randolph  J. 
 
 Read  Rev.  H. 
 
 Reid  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Reynolds  Sir  J. 
 
 Reynolds  Bp. 
 
 Richardson  D.  L. 
 
NAMES   OF    AUTHOUS   QUOTED. 
 
 923 
 
 ElCHTER  J.  P. 
 RiDEK  W. 
 
 EocHESTER  Earl. 
 Robertson  Rev.  F.  W. 
 Robertson  W.  B. 
 Robinson  Professor. 
 Robinson  Rev.  T. 
 Roberts  Rev.  R. 
 Rogers  Henry. 
 Rogers  S. 
 Rogers  Rev.  N. 
 Roget  p.  M. 
 RoMAiNE  Rev.  W. 
 Rose  H.  I. 
 RowE  N. 
 
 RUSKIN  J. 
 
 Russell  Earl. 
 Rutherford  Rev.  S. 
 Ryle  Rev.  J.  C. 
 Saadi. 
 
 Sage  ^neas. 
 Sala  a. 
 Sales  F. 
 Salter  H.  G. 
 Sanderson  Bp. 
 Sandys  Archbishop. 
 Sargent  E. 
 Saurin  Rev.  J. 
 Savage  R. 
 Savile  Sir  H. 
 Schiller  F. 
 Schmidt  E. 
 Scott  Sir  W. 
 Scott  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 ScouGAL  Rev.  H. 
 ScRAGGS  Rev.  G.  G. 
 Selden  John. 
 Seneca. 
 Seymore  M.  H. 
 Shaftesbury  Earl. 
 Shakespeare  W. 
 Sharpe  Dr. 
 Sharr  Rev.  F.  J. 
 Shelley  P.  B. 
 She  N  STONE  W, 
 Shepard  Rev.  T. 
 Sheppard  J. 
 Sheridan  R.  B. 
 Shirley  J. 
 Shute  Rev.  N. 
 Sibbes  Rev.  R. 
 Sidney  Sir  P. 
 Sigourney  Mrs, 
 
 SiLLIMAN  B. 
 
 Simeon  Rev.  C. 
 Simpson  Bp. 
 Simpson  Rev.  D. 
 
 SiSMONDI. 
 
 Sladden  Dr. 
 Smee  a. 
 Smellie  "W. 
 Smiles  S. 
 Smith  Rev.  H. 
 Smith  Rev.  J. 
 Smith  Adam. 
 Smith  Albert. 
 Smith  Sidney. 
 Socrates. 
 Somerville  W. 
 South  Rev.  Dr. 
 Southern  T. 
 
 SOUTHEY  Dr. 
 
 Southwell  R. 
 Spadara  Marchioness  de. 
 Spencer  John. 
 Spenser  E. 
 Sprague  Rev.  Dr. 
 Spring  Rev.  Dr. 
 Spurgeon  C.  H. 
 Spurstowe  Rev.  Dr.  W. 
 Stanford  Rev.  C. 
 Stanley  Dean. 
 Stebbing  Rev.  H. 
 Steel  Rev.  R. 
 Steele  Sir  R. 
 Sterne  L. 
 
 Stevens  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 Stevenson  W.  F. 
 Steward  Rev.  G. 
 Stewart  Rev.  J.  H. 
 Stewart  D. 
 
 Stillingfleet  Bp. 
 
 Stoughton  Rev.  J. 
 
 Stowe  Mrs. 
 
 Stretch  L.  M. 
 
 Strickland  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 Sturm  Julius. 
 
 Summers  G.  W. 
 
 Swain e  C. 
 
 Swain  E  J. 
 
 Swinnock  Rev.  Dr.  G. 
 
 Swift  Dean. 
 
 Sylvester  J. 
 
 Tacitus. 
 
 Talfourd  Sir  T.  N. 
 
 Tappam  Professor. 
 
 Tatham  Miss. 
 
 Taylor  Bp. 
 
924 
 
 KAMES    OF    AUTIIOKS    QrOTED. 
 
 Taylor  Rev.  N. 
 Taylor  Rev.  A. 
 Taylor  Isaac. 
 Temple  Sir  W. 
 Tennyson  A. 
 Thackeray  W.  M, 
 Theocritus. 
 Tholuck  Rev.  Dr.  A. 
 Thomas  Rev.  Dr. 
 Thomson  Arcbbisliop. 
 Thomson  Bp. 
 Thomson  Rev.  Dr.  Yi.  11. 
 Thomson  J. 
 Thornton  Rev.  W.  L. 
 Thornycroft  Major. 
 Tibullus. 
 TiGHE  Mrs. 
 TiLLOTSON  Archbishop. 
 Times  J. 
 Todd  Rev.  Dr. 
 
 ToOKE  A. 
 
 Toplady  Rev.  A. 
 
 ToMLINE  Bp. 
 TOWNSEND  G. 
 
 Town  SON  Rev.  J. 
 Trapp  Rev.  J. 
 Trench  Archbishop. 
 TuppER  M.  F. 
 Turner  S. 
 TwEEDiE  Rev.  Dr. 
 Twiss  T. 
 Upham  Professor. 
 Undert^tood  Susan  M. 
 Vaughan  Rev.  Dr.  C.  J. 
 Vaughan  H. 
 Venn  Archbishop. 
 Venning  R. 
 
 ViLLlERS  Bp. 
 
 Vinet  Professor. 
 Virgil. 
 
 Wakeley  Rev.  Dr. 
 AValker  J.  B. 
 V/alker  T. 
 Walpule  H. 
 Wallace  Rev.  J.  A. 
 Waller  E. 
 Walton  I. 
 Ward  Rev.  S. 
 Wardlaw  Rev.  Dr.  R. 
 Warren  S. 
 Warwick  Sir  P. 
 Washington  G. 
 
 Watson  Bp. 
 Watson  Rev.  T. 
 Watson  Rev.  R. 
 Watson  J.  T. 
 Watts  Dr.  J. 
 Wayland  Rev.  Dr.  F. 
 Webster  N. 
 Weir  Rev.  Dr.  J. 
 Welby  Mrs. 
 Welsh  Rev.  J. 
 Wesley  Mrs.  S. 
 Wesley  Rev.  J. 
 Wesley  Rev.  C. 
 Wesley  S. 
 Westwood  a.  L. 
 Wetherall  Miss. 
 Whateley  Archbishop. 
 Wheedon  Rev.  Dr. 
 White  H.  K. 
 V/hitecross  Rev.  J. 
 Whitfield  Rev.  G. 
 Whitehead  W. 
 Whitson  J. 
 Whittikr  J.  G. 
 Wickliffe  J. 
 
 WiGNl'R. 
 
 Wilberforce  W. 
 Wilcox  W. 
 Vv^illiams  I. 
 Willis  N.  P. 
 Wilson  Bp.  D, 
 Wilson  Bp.  T. 
 Wilson  Mrs.  C.  B. 
 Wilson  Professor. 
 Wilson  Rev.  J.  H. 
 Wilson  Rev.  J.  G! 
 Wilson  Dr.  G. 
 Wilton  R. 
 Win  SLOW  Dr.  F. 
 Win  SLOW  Rev.  Dr.  0. 
 Wise  Rev.  Dr. 
 Wiseman  Cardinal. 
 WoLCuT  Dr.  J.     ■ 
 
 VfoODERIDGE  D. 
 
 Woodward  Rev.  H. 
 Wordsworth  W. 
 Wright  Rev.  P.  J. 
 Young  Dr.  E. 
 YoNGE  Rev.  J. 
 
 ZiLLIKOFER  G.  J. 
 ZiMMERMANN  J.   G. 
 ZWINGLE. 
 
 JARUOLB   AND    BUK»,    I'l 
 
 SCUN    STllKET,    NORWICH. 
 
DATE  DUE 
 
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